Patriarchy After Patriarchy Studies on South East Europe

Karl Kaser Patriarchy after Patriarchy Studies on South East Europe

edited by Prof. Dr. Karl Kaser (Graz)

vol. 7

LIT Karl Kaser Patriarchy after Patriarchy Gender Relations in Turkey and in the Balkans, 1500 – 2000

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When I was asking myself what place could be the most inspiring for the writing of this book, the metropolis of Istanbul automatically came to mind. Consti- tuting one of the geographical bridges between the “Orient” and the “Occi- dent”, between “Asia” and “Europe”, the city, stretching along both sides of the Bosporus, became the ideal working site in my imagination. It constitutes the geographic centre of an imagined region that I will call Eurasia Minor in this book – consisting of the Balkan countries and Turkey. Not accidentally, these regions had formed the core of what used to be the Ottoman Empire for about six centuries, and Istanbul was the seat of its sultans. In my opinion, Eurasia Minor is a kind of remnant of the Ottoman Empire and, in several respects, still constitutes a regional entity – gender relations not excluded. This book would not have seen the light of day without the release I obtained from most of my duties as an academic teacher. My employer, the Karl- Franzens-University of Graz, Austria, generously gave me permission to leave my workplace for a semester in order to move to the city at the Bosporus. I am very grateful for this opportunity. Moreover, I wish to thank Canay and Malte Fuhrmann for offering their apartment in the Muradiye Mahallesi for my use for the duration of my sabbatical, and Hannes Grandits, Siegfried Gruber, Joel M. Halpern, Gentiana Kera, Enriketa Pandelejmoni, Robert Pichler, Christian Promitzer, and Michaela Wolf for their critical comments.

Istanbul and Graz, 2007 Contents

Preface 1 Abbreviations 4 List of Tables 5

Introduction 9 Eurasia Minor: Historical-Cultural Context 10 Bibliographical, Methodological, and Theoretical Notes 20

Chapter 1 Patriarchy in Power (ca. 1500-1950) 33 1. Kinship Relations 36 Kinship Relations in Europe and the Near Eas 38 Kinship Terminology among the Peoples of Eurasia Minor 44 The Patrilineal Descent Group 46 Spiritual Kinship 51 2. Family Forms 56 The Rural Family 57 Urban Households 75 3. Stability and Dynamic Change 84 Patriarchal Persistence 85 Patriarchy Questioned 93

Chapter 2 The Decline of Patriarchy (approx. 1950-1990) 115 1. Social Transformation and Population Politics 118 Industrialazation and Urbanization 121 Modernization 126 General Demographic Trends 129 Abortion and Pronatalist Policy 131 2. State Patriarchy and State Feminism 141 The “Women’s Question” and Its Official Resolution 145 Women’s Movements 152 Informality 159 3. Ideological Trends and the Growth of the Nuclear Family 162 The Socialist Family – Ideology and Reality 164 The Rural Family and Social Change 169 The Urban Family 180

Chapter 3 The Continuity of Patriarchy 187 1. Personalized Relationships 189 Economic and Demographic Realities 191 Providing for Social Security 196 Kin, Patron, Client 199 The Old Problem: Lacking Integration of the Periphery 205 2. Male Democracies 208 Patriarchal Backlash 209 Women in the Public Sphere 216 Men and the Other Sexes 223 Counter Force: Organized Women 231 3. Contemporary Gender Relations 237 The Transnational Household 238 Weak Signs of The Second Demographic Transition 242 Fertility, Sexuality, and Contraception 251 Marriage and Marriage Arrangements 260 The Young Generation 266

Conclusions 273 Bibliography 283 Index 317 4 Patriarchy after Patriarchy

Abbreviations

EU – European Union FDT – First Demographic Transition GDP – Gross Domestic Product GDR – German Democratic Republic IUD – Interuterine Devices MENA – Middle East and North African Countries OECD – Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development PKK – Kurdish Worker’s Party SDT – Second Demographic Transition SIRYA – Steady Intimate Relationship of Young Adults Patriarchy after Patriarchy 5

List of Tables

Table 1: The Population (July 2006, estimated) and Territories of Eurasia Minor 14 Table 2: Population (in thousands) and Population Density (per km2) of the Ottoman Balkans, 1790-1910 16 Table 3: Ottoman Population, 1893-1914 17 Table 4: Population Increase, Decrease, and Fertility (births per woman) in the Countries of Eurasia Minor in Comparison 18 Table 5: GDP (per capita, in US $) of Eurasia Minor’s Countries, in comparison, 2003 19 Table 6: Kinship Terminology in Balkan and Turkish Languages 44 Table 7: Unmarried Men and Women at the Age of 45 to 49 (in per cent, around 1900) 60 Table 8: Married Men and Women of Rural Serbia According to Age Groups (in per cent), 1863 62 Table 9: Average Age at Marriage, Female Population of Orašac, 1870-1939 62 Table 10: Differences of Western and Eastern Balkans 88 Table 11: Life Expectancy at Birth, by Country and Sex, 1910-1995 106 Table 12: Total Fertility Rate (average number of children per woman) per Country, 1920-2004 107 Table 13: Average Age of Population in Various European Countries, 1950-2000 108 Table 14: Percentage of Population in the Agrarian Sector, Balkan Countries, 1910 120 Table 15: Proportion of Agrarian Population Compared to the Overall Population in the Yugoslav Republics South of the Save-Danube-Line and in the Serbian Province of Kosovo/Kosova 1948-1981 (in per cent) 122 Table 16: Population Growth of Major Bulgarian Cities, 1934-1985 (in 1,000 inhabitants) 125 6 Patriarchy after Patriarchy

Table 17: Births, Abortions, and Birth Rates, Bulgaria, 1950-1967 132 Table 18: Births, Abortions, and Birth Rates, Romania, 1950-1966 132 Table 19: Births, Abortions, and Birth Rates, Romania, 1966-1990 135 Table 20: Births, Abortions, and Birth Rates, Albania, 1950-1995 135 Table 21: Births, Abortions, and Birth Rates, Bulgaria, 1967-1990 136 Table 22: Birth Rates, Greece, 1935-1999 138 Table 23: Women’s Participation in Labour Force in Industry and Agriculture, Albania, 1960-1990 146 Table 24: Rate of Female Employment, Bulgaria, 1952-1988 (in per cent of Labour Force) 147 Table 25: Females Among University Students, Albania (in per cent, 1960-1990) 148 Table 26: Literacy Rates by Sex in Turkey, 1927-1975 (ages six and higher) 149 Table 27: Labour Force Participation of Turkish Population (ages 15 and higher), 1950-1975 150 Table 28: Household Typology, Bulgaria (in per cent, 1975) 165 Table 29: Fertility Rates of Serbia Proper and Kosovo/Kosova, 1950-1983 172 Table 30: Mortality and Natural Population Growth among Macedonians and Albanians, Socialist Republic of Macedonia, 1953-1981 173 Table 31: Household Typology of Eleven Serbian Villages and Towns (in per cent, 1863) 178 Table 32: Family Composition of Orašac (1961) Compared to Albanian Villages in 1930 and 1950 (in per cent) 178 Table 33: Poverty Rates by Ethnic Group (in per cent, Bulgaria, 1999) 193 Table 34: Unemployment Totals and Overall Population Rates for Women, Romania (in per cent, 1991-1996) 193 Table 35: Evolution of Labour Force Participation of Selected MENA Countries 195 Patriarchy after Patriarchy 7

Table 36: Female Economic Activity Rate (2003) 195 Table 37: Living Arrangements of Persons Aged 65 (in per cent), Unmarried, 1989-1992 197 Table 38: Gender-related Development Index 2004 and 2003, Regions and Countries Compared 210 Table 39: Being Only a Housewife is fulfilling (per cent of women, around 2000) 215 Table 40: Labour Force Participation of the Population (ages 15 and higher), Turkey, 1950-1975 216 Table 41: Average Male and Female Income (Purchasing Power Parity, in US $), 2004 217 Table 42: Adult Literacy in Eurasia Minor, Age 15 and Higher (in per cent, 2004) 218 Table 43: Women’s Political Participation, Selected MENA Countries, 1980s/1990s 220 Table 44: Women’s Seats in Parliament, selected European Countries (in per cent, 2003/2004) 221 Table 45: Men Make Better Political Leadership (per cent of women’s agreement) 221 Table 46: Serbian Population by Marital Status (over 15 years of age) (in per cent, 2003) 245 Table 47: Living with Parents (in per cent, around 2000) 248 Table 48: Women Who Want Children but Live in Single Household (in per cent, men and women around 2000) 249 Table 49: Contraceptive Prevalence Rate (married women, ages 15-49), in per cent, 1995-2003, in Relation to the Percentage of Pregnancies Aborted 257 Table 50: Number of Legal Induced Abortions per 100 Live Births, by Country (in per cent, 1970-1999) 258 Table 51: Should a Woman Abort, If She is Not Married? (Percentage of approval, 1999) 258 8 Patriarchy after Patriarchy

Table 52: Should a Married Woman Abort, If She Does Not Want to Have More Children? (Percentage of approval, 1999) 259 Table 53: Marriage Is An Outdated Institution? (Percentage of approval, 1999) 260 Table 54: Importance of Family in Life (percentage of importance, total of men and women) 261 Table 55: Distribution of Ever-Married Women by Decision Making Attributes (in per cent, Turkey, 1993 262 Introduction

Since the second half of the 1980s, social movements, which questioned the legitimacy of the hitherto seemingly stable systems of Kemalist Turkey and the socialist Balkans, have won ground. Political Islam struck Turkey, pouring into the country from the time of the Iranian Islamic Revolution. The Turkish military junta, for a short period in power in the early 1980s, launched a counter- attack by beginning to train religious personnel in state schools. The aim of this measure was to preserve the secularistic character of the Kemalist state. Turkey has been relatively successful although the battle is not yet over. In the Balkan socialist countries, however, the dams broke in the years between 1989 and 1991, and parliamentary democracies replaced monolithic socialist regimes. A long “transition period” began. This temporal coincidence is striking but so is its impact on male-biased gender relations. The term most frequently used to describe this re-strengthening of men’s position in society is “patriarchal backlash”. In Turkey, the influence of political Islam on society is under control but the massive re-strengthening of Islam in general is not. Kemalist Turkey formally introduced gender equality already in the first half of the 1930s, and the Islamist governments in power since 2002 have also been passing many gender equality-laws. The socialist states legally introduced gender equality in the second half of the 1940s. In both the cases, the results are similar: legal advancement has been enforced on the top-down principle and therefore can be easily undermined by men (and women) in daily practice. The former state-directed economies transformed into liberal ones. This process has not been gender-neutral, as it can be deduced from women disappearing largely from the public sphere. Therefore, the central question is – after the abolition of patriarchy and the official installation of gender equality – whether patriarchy and female discrimination are returning in the region through the backdoor, yet in a modernized version? If we accept a term such as “patriarchal backlash”, we have to know about the traditional patriarchal forms where the backlash seemingly leads. One patriarchal pattern has been consistently visible over the Balkans and Anatolia for at least a millennium. Its main elements were three principles: segmentary distance, genealogical distance, and generational distance. The analysis of patriarchal backlash makes it necessary to study the traditional pattern as well as the decline of patriarchy in the course of the 20th century. For the realization of the first endeavour, we largely depend on the construction of hypotheses and their convincing explanation. In doing so, we are forced to take empirical evidence from the 19th and the 20th centuries and project it back to earlier centuries while hoping to discover analogies in times that are more distant. Instead of resulting in a dynamic view of history to which patriarchy is exposed and which presumably has changed it over time, we are forced to paint a static picture, seem- 10 Patriarchy after Patriarchy ingly unchanged for centuries. The emergence of patriarchal structures does not adhere to a specific founding date. Scholars link it to urbanization, the formation of the state, class and social hierarchies after the Neolithic Revolution (10,000-9,000 BC), but this remains a hypothesis. Therefore, its emergence will remain obscure. Thus, there are numerous open questions to be answered: What were the forms of traditional patriarchy, what kind of socio-political framework were they embedded in, and why did they remain unquestioned until far into the 20th century? Which were the means and methods of achieving more rights for women applied in the different countries of the region in the course of this century? What kind of socio-political background encourages traditional patriarchy in modern clothes to knock at the backdoor of modern society at the beginning of the 21st century?

Eurasia Minor: The Historical-Cultural Context

The epistemological framework of this text is related to the Anatolian and Eu- ropean parts of the historic Ottoman Empire and its successor states until the turn from the 20th to the 21st century. I refer to the region that spreads eastwards and westwards from the Bosporus as “Eurasia Minor”, since it represents the Eurasian continent in nuce. Whereas the term “Eurasia” has found its way into the political arena and into academic discourse, the term “Eurasia Minor” is, of course, completely artificial and invented by the author. Here, the Balkan historian trembles due to a well-fostered taboo. In academia, the traditional division of labour recommends the limitation of the Balkanist, Balkanologist, or Balkan historian to an area that is generally termed “The Balkans”, “South-eastern Europe”, or “Southeast Europe”. The Turkophile’s interest is limited to Turk- ish-speaking populations; the Ottomanist’s work is devoted to the history and culture of the Ottoman Empire. This kind of specialization, indeed, makes sense as long as it does not limit knowledge production. If we transgress the traditional research areas, the priority of the research question wins our attention. This means that it is not only permitted, but also even strongly recom- mended, to cross the traditional borderlines of geographically and chronologi- cally defined research areas – otherwise emerging blind spots in research cannot be dealt with. The exact geographic extension of Eurasia Minor will be discussed later. One argument, of course, has to be made explicit immediately, since it explains why this work is limited to Anatolia and the Balkans in geographical terms; it does not include countries such as Croatia and Hungary, on the one hand, and the predominantly Arab parts of the former Ottoman Empire in the Near East and North Africa, on the other hand. Traditional kinship relations of the peoples of Eurasia Minor were very similar – in contrast to those of Western and Central Europe, on the one hand, and of the Middle East, on the other hand. Interest- Introduction 11 ingly enough, the characteristics of kinship organization – segmentation, generational distance, and birth order – as described for the Inner Asian steppe, are not limited to peoples of Turkish or Mongolian descent. We find them in most of the Balkan peoples, too.

Historical Background

Historically, Eurasia Minor had been part of multi-ethnic cultures and imperial institutions for many centuries. No doubt, the integration of the region into the three-continental Roman Empire – no other empire in history stretched from Great Britain to the Caucasus, from the northern limes in Germany to North Africa – left deep imprint on the culture and social structure of its peoples. This impact intensified, when, in the early 4th century, Constantinople became the second administrative centre of the Empire. After the administrative division of the declining Roman Empire into a western and an eastern part in 395, with Eurasia Minor belonging to the east, the Hellenization of the East Roman Em- pire set in. The year 476 brought about the fall of the western part – it simply could not defend itself any longer against the restless Germanic tribes at and within its borders. The eastern part, by historians also referred to by the artificial term “Byzantium” or “Byzantine Empire”, survived the decline of the west for about a millennium. Until the 11th century, the Byzantine Empire was able to control Eurasia Minor from the Balkans to the Caucasus. However, in this century certain structural weaknesses of its political structure became obvious. On its western frontiers, small Balkan empires as for instance, the Serbian state began to demonstrate ambitions to expand at the cost of the Byzantine Empire; Normans invaded the Balkans; the maritime city-states of Geneva and Venice began to dominate the Adriatic and Mediterranean Sea. The Byzantine army – already highly dependent on foreign mercenaries – had to fight many battles against invaders from the west and against nomadic armies from the Asian steppe, and lost many of them. Perhaps the most decisive defeat was that of the year 1071 by the Seljuk- Turkish army not far from Lake Van in Eastern Anatolia (the battle of Mantzi- kert). The history of the Asiatic Turks is a very complex one. Primarily nomadic and speaking a non-Indo-European language, and originally located near the Chinese Empire, a part of them had moved westwards in the course of the first millennium, reached the Caspian Sea, converted to Islam in the 10th century and established a powerful empire in the eastern neighbourhood of Byzan- tium, including Persia, under the leadership of Seljuk. The above-mentioned victory at the battleground of the region of Mantzikert opened Anatolia to Tur- kish nomadic tribes and settlements and consequently to the Turkification and Islamization of Asia Minor. The Turkish social organization of the steppe began to meet Arab and Byzantine institutions. 12 Patriarchy after Patriarchy

After a political setback caused by Mongolian expansion in the 13th century into the region, a kind of Seljuk successor institution under the leadership of a certain Osman (†1326) won territorial ground in the late 13th/early 14th centuries in the region around the central Anatolian city of Eskiúehir. This event was decisive. Osman and his successors were more than successful in their ambition to expand their original tribal area. After having surrounded Constantinople and having occupied a considerable part of the Balkan Peninsula, Sultan Meh- med II (called “The Conqueror”) “knocked” on one of the continental doors of the mighty Byzantine defence walls of Constantinople in late May of 1453. The Byzantine defences were no longer able to refuse his wish. The former capital of the Byzantine Empire became the new capital of the Ottoman Empire. Mehmed’s successors stretched the Empire to the vicinity of Central Europe and to the Middle East, including most of North Africa. The big question with regard to gender relations is the permanent social imprint on the pre-Ottoman population and the kind of gender-heritage the Byzantine Empire had left. Its legislation reflected a significant focus on the conjugal family and on gender equality (Kaser 2000, 47). It is impossible to decide whether legislation was successfully imposed on the entire population of the decreasing empire. A considerable part of its European population was of Sla- vic origin. What kind of gender relations exactly did they practise, and did By- zantine legislation have any impact on their supposed patrilineal and agnatic practises? Evidence from the following Ottoman period document the continuation of the conjugally based “Mediterranean” kinship pattern among the Greek population in the Aegean area; other evidence indicates an agnatic kinship focus among the Greek population in Thrace or on the fringes of the Black Sea and among the Slavic population in the Balkans. The huge exception to the rapid rise and fall of Muslim states in the Near East of that time was the Ottoman Empire, which was the last and in some ways the most successful of the emerging cosmopolitan Sultanates. From their power base in Anatolia, the Osmanlı ruling family governed most of the Near East and the Balkans. The Empire in Europe expanded steadily from the middle of the 14th to the middle of the 16th century. The Peace of Karlovci (1699) with the Habsburg Empire – after the second siege of Vienna and a series of lost battles against the Habsburg army and its allies – signals the turning point of Ottoman presence in Europe. Nevertheless, it held sway over its enormous territory until the early 20th century. How can we best describe the character of the Ottoman expansion? Both the Ottoman regime and economy were based upon warfare, military expansion, and tributes. Throughout most of its history, all Ottoman administrators were part of the army and the militarily structured policy. Despite the difficulties of maintaining a war-based economy, the Ottomans were able to press into Europe for hundreds of years, building an internal sense of unity and a spirit of a holy war against the “infidel”. This spirit was more difficult to stimulate else- Introduction 13 where in the Near East, where neighbours were usually also Muslims, and where war generally led armies into tribal hinterlands, not towards greater wealth. The Ottomans developed an exceptionally effective army, the Janissa- ries. During at least the first two centuries of the Ottoman Empire, the elite of the troops and bureaucrats were drafted by the institution of devshirme, as Christian children were taken as a levy from their parents, converted to Islam, then rigorously trained from earliest infancy to become court warriors, and high level administrators. All earlier regimes had used slaves to a greater or lesser extent, but the Ottomans had an advantage in that the proximity of Christian Europe allowed them a ready supply of loyal slave soldiers and administrators. In comparison, other Middle East states had to import the non-Muslim slaves they required from remote regions of central Asia, Europe, or Africa, risking having their supply cut or interrupted, which would weaken the base of the state (Lindholm 1996, 121pp.). The most important structural problem of the Ottoman Empire was that its progress as a tributary state was based on conquering additional land to provide its military machine and functionaries with revenues. The 16th century was still a century of expansion, the 17th century more or less a century of status quo, and by the end of this century, territorial losses – at least in rich Europe – became considerable. In the course of the 18th century, again, a kind of territorial stabilization could be achieved. However, at the beginning of the 19th century at the latest, it became clear to the leading elite that the declining Empire could only be saved by severe reforms of the army and the state. The times of military success, especially on the European continent, were over. Reforms of military and civil administration required revenues that were not available. Certain western countries – France and England – were willing to lend money, but this had its political price. Another problem of the tributary state was its low population density in Asia and Africa. Geographically, the Ottoman Empire was a large state, and until 1878, the Empire stretched from the Danube to Southern Arabia. Yet, judged by its population and exploitable land, the Empire was insufficient in comparison. Cultivatable land was intermixed with great regions of mountain and de- sert. The Empire’s population of 32 million (in 1912, including provinces in Southern Arabia and Africa) was less than a quarter as densely settled as West- ern Europe. In comparison to its main enemy since the 18th century, the Rus- sian Empire that had 129 million inhabitants in 1897, the Ottoman Empire was more or less a pygmy. All of the major European states had larger populations. The vast size of the Empire was a hindrance to economic development and governmental control. To connect settlements, railroads and roads had to be constructed over long stretches of uninhabited land. Troops and police had to be stationed over huge distances (Carthy 2001, 3pp.). The above-described problems, and also many other reasons – just to mention the decision to join the Central Powers in WWI – brought the Ottoman Empire 14 Patriarchy after Patriarchy to an end. To cut a long and complex story short, a group of wise military and civil functionaries, among them Mustafa Kemal Pasha, who is until today ad- mired as the founder of the Republic of Turkey, collected the remnants of the remnants in Anatolia and Europe. The Empire was turned into a Republic (1923), the last Sultan went into exile, and the Caliphate was dissolved (1924). They declared the Republic to be a completely new start.

Population

The Congress of Berlin in 1878 constitutes a significant turning point in the territorial composition of the Ottoman Empire: Bosnia-Herzegovina fell under the administration of Austria-Hungary; Serbia, Romania, and Montenegro received formal independence; a great part of what in 1908 would constitute the Kingdom of Bulgaria received an autonomous status within the Ottoman Em- pire. These territories, in addition to the Macedonian, Albanian, and Thracian lands, had been under the Empire’s administration for about four to five centuries. This justifies their inclusion into the region of Eurasia Minor (together with Greece, the northern regions of which remained under Ottoman control until the Balkan Wars (1912/13) and WWI). Starting from the contemporary political status (2007), ten countries constitute therefore the core region of this study: Turkey, Greece, Albania, Macedonia, Bulgaria, Serbia, Montenegro, Bosnia-Herzegovina, Romania, and Moldova.

Table 1: The Population (July 2006, estimated) and Territories of Eurasia Mi- nor

Territory km2 Population Turkey 70,413,958 780,580 Greece 10,688,058 131,940 Albania 3,581,655 28,750 Macedonia 2,050,554 25,333 Bulgaria 7,385,367 110,550 Serbia and Montenegro* 10,832,545 102,350 Romania 22,303,552 237,500 Moldova 4,466,706 33,843 Bosnia-Herzegovina 4,498,976 51,129 ______135,921,371 1,501,975 * Since May 2007 separated countries. Source: 2006 CIA World Factbook: http://www.theodora.com/wfbcurrent/index.html Introduction 15

The inclusion of Romania and Moldova can be considered doubtful, since its constituent historical regions, Transylvania, Walachia, and Moldova had never been under the immediate control of the Ottoman Empire but was exposed to its indirect rule. Eurasia Minor, defined this way, consists of a population of roughly 136 million inhabitants and covers a territory of 1.5 million km2 as reflected in Table 1. The territory of the Republic of Turkey constitutes half of the region, and about half of the population are citizens of it. Most of the population originated from Asia, although these origins lead far back in history. The oldest strata of population that can be studied based on written historical documents are the Greek, Illyrian, and Thracian peoples – all of them Indo- Europeans. Most of the tribes later on grouped together as “Greek” expanded from Inner Asia to Asia Minor, the Aegean, and to the south of the Balkan Pen- insula since the 19th century BC. The Illyrians, presumably also Asian by origin, began to settle in the western parts of the Balkan Peninsula at the beginning of the second millennium BC. The most current theories on the Albanian population’s origins assume its Illyrian ancestry. One of the basic arguments is that the Albanian language is related to Illyrian. Neighbouring peoples absorbed the rest of the Illyrian population. The Thracians, finally, began to settle around 1200 BC in the eastern parts of the Balkan Peninsula. Getes and Dacians represent two subgroups of them, the first settling at the lower course of the Danube, the latter north of the Danube, where they had formed a joint kingdom. The Roman Empire integrated the Thracian population between 46 BC and 105. Intensive Romanization accompanied this process. When Rome had to give up this eastern fore post between 271 and 275, a Latin-speaking population was left behind. This is one of the reasons contemporary Romani- ans, speaking a Romanic dialect, claim to be descents of the ancient Thracians. Such Romanized populations were frequently called “Walachians”, or by deri- vates of this term, by neighbouring populations. This was also the case with the later Romanians and the Romanian Principality of Walachia (Kaser 2002, 54- 64; Campbell 1976). Centuries later, the numerically dominant population of the Balkan territories, the Slavs, spread in its great majority into the Balkans and Eastern Europe in the 6th and 7th centuries. They also spoke Indo-European languages. Five out of ten contemporary countries of Eurasia Minor speak Slavic languages: Bosnia, Serbia, Montenegro, Macedonia, and Bulgaria. The Bulgarian population represents a special case. In the 7th century, two ethnic groups intermingled on the territory that later on constituted Bulgaria: Slavs and Bulgarians. The latter were of Turkish origin, speaking a Turkish dialect, stemming from Inner Asia, and were politically better organized than the Slavic population. Although numerically a minority, they took over political leadership of the Bulgarian Em- pire, but in the following centuries completely intermingled with the Slavic majority, which is reflected by the taking over of the Slavic language (Kaser 2000, 64-77). 16 Patriarchy after Patriarchy

The first Inner Asian people that settled in Central Europe and kept its identity were the Magyars, crossing the Carpathian mountain range in the late 9th century and finding their homeland on the Pannonian Plain under the leadership of their prince Árpád. They speak a Finno-Ugrian dialect. Originally constituting a tribal confederation, the Magyar lands were integrated into the political sphere of the Holy Roman Empire, receiving the royal crown from the Pope in the year 1000 (Ibid. 77p.). The wide framework of the Ottoman Empire, stretching from Southeast Europe to the Middle East, became attractive to various peoples. The region received, for instance, a large number of Jews from the Iberian Peninsula – the Sephar- dim – who found permanent residence in the Empire by the end of the 15th century. Roma and Sinti people circled within the Empire or passed it on their way to Central and Western Europe. Peoples from South Caucasia, Christians as well as Muslims (Georgians, Azerbaijanis, Armenians, Circassians, Tatars etc.) settled in Anatolia or found their way to Ottoman Europe, as for example many Armenian tradesmen.

Table 2: Population (in thousands) and Population Density (per km2) of the Ottoman Balkans, 1790-1910

Year Population Population Density 1790 5.157 12.1 1800 5.294 12.4 1810 5.434 12.8 1820 5.511 13.7 1830 5.560 15.8 1840 6.075 17.9 1850 6.880 20.3 1860 7.520 22.2 1870 8.130 24.0 1880 4.437 25.1 1890 4.341 26.3 1900 4.680 28.3 1910 5.176 31.3 Source: Palairet 1997, 20p.

It is generally difficult to calculate both the Ottoman population and the population of Eurasia Minor for the period before 1831, when the first general Ot- toman census was taken. The Ottoman censuses of the 19th century had various deficiencies compared to other European censuses: only men were counted, and ethnic affiliation was subsumed under religious affiliation. Based on the 1831 census, the population of the Ottoman Balkan territories was calculated as Introduction 17 about ten million people, men and women. About six million of them were Christians and about four million were Muslims; Jews and Armenians were about half of a million in number (Karpat 1985, 21p.). Population calculations for the Ottoman Balkans before this census provide only a very rough picture. The Balkans, defined as south of the rivers Save and Danube and bounded by the sea to West, South, and East, consisted of a population of approximately 5.4 million at about 1530 (Palairet 1997, xiii, 4). The calculations reflected in Table 2 take the territorial losses of the Empire in Europe into consideration. The population decrease between 1870 and 1880, caused by the territorial losses resulting of the Congress of Berlin, is significant. The attached estimations of population density in the Ottoman Balkans therefore represent a more accu- rate picture; the population density almost tripled between 1790 and 1910, but on a very low level. Table 3 also reflects diverse territorial losses and therefore cannot give a reliable picture of the overall population development, but figures signal that in comparison to Table 2, Anatolia and the rest of the Ottoman Near East was clearly under-populated compared to the Balkan regions.

Table 3: Ottoman Population, 1893-1914

Year Population 1893 17,388, 562 1894 17,637,191 1895 18,735,218 1896 19,142,396 1897 19,050,323 1906 20,884,630 1914 18,520,016 Source: Karpat 1985, 190

The distribution between urban and rural population in the Balkans up to WWII shows a great rural preponderance, which indicates relatively weak economic development. In the Ottoman successor states, urban population grew rather more rapidly than the total population, though from a low-base level. In most regions, the urban population was under 10 or 15 per cent. Serbia’s urban population increased from 4.1% in 1834 to 10.8% in 1910; that of Bosnia- Herzegovina even decreased from 17.7% in 1864 to 13.0% in 1910 (Ibid. 25p.). Comparative statistical material for the ten states constituting Eurasia Minor at present reveals a remarkable population increase since the beginning of the 20th century, although the final phase of the First Demographic Transition (FDT) let the population again decrease in most of the countries after WWII. Except in countries such as Turkey and Albania, which are approaching the last phase of 18 Patriarchy after Patriarchy the FDT, the projected population increase in the rest of the countries is +/- zero, except for Bulgaria with a clear tendency towards a significant negative population increase. Bulgaria’s fertility rate of 1.2 births per woman cannot compensate for mortality rates. Albania and Turkey’s fertility rates began to decrease during the three decades 1970/75-2000/05. Data for the three Cauca- sian countries do not show significant deviations, except a sharp fertility decline, which brings the prospected population increase more or less in line with the European average.

Table 4: Population Increase, Decrease, and Fertility (births per woman) in the Countries of Eurasia Minor in Comparison

Population Increase Fertility Rate Country 1975-2003 2003-2115 1970-1975 2000-2005 Bulgaria -0.4 -0.8 2.2 1.2 Romania 0.1 -0.4 2.6 1.3 Bosnia-Herzegovina 0.2 -0.1 2.6 1.3 Moldova 0.3 -0.2 2.6 1.3 Serbia and Montenegro 0.5 -0.1 2.4 1.7 Greece 0.7 0.1 2.3 1.3 Macedonia 0.7 0.1 3.0 1.5 Albania 0.9 0.6 4.7 2.3 Turkey 2.0 1.2 5.3 2.5 ______Azerbaijan 1.3 0.7 4.3 1.7 Armenia 0.3 -0.2 3.0 1.3 Georgia -0.3 -0.7 2.6 1.5 ______Spain 0.6 0.4 2.9 1.3 Austria 0.3 0.1 2.0 1.4 Source: Human Development Index

Whereas fertility rates and population increase are in line with the rest of Eu- rope, the data on the Gross Domestic Product (GDP) shows significant differences (Table 5). These figures indicate striking differences within the region and between Eurasia Minor and the rest of Europe. Greece is by far the most developed region whereas the other countries are situated within a comparable range, except for Moldova and Serbia-Montenegro, which could not provide comparable data for the completion of the Human Development Index. This low economic development is, on the one hand, the result of the harsh process of so-called “transition” in the post-socialist states and, on the other hand, a consequence of the rather weak development of the Turkish economy compared to the sharp population increase of the country in the course of the last Introduction 19 about five decades. The three South Caucasian countries of Armenia, Azerbai- jan, and Georgia, together with Moldavia, are bringing up to the rear in terms of European economic development.

Table 5: GDP (per capita, in US $) of Eurasia Minor’s Countries, in comparison, 2003

Country GDP Greece 19,954 Bulgaria 7,731 Romania 7,277 Macedonia 6,794 Turkey 6,772 Bosnia and Herzegovina 5,967 Albania 4,584 Moldova 1,510 Serbia and Montenegro – ______Armenia 3,671 Azerbaijan 3,617 Georgia 2,588 ______Spain 20,404 Austria 31,289 Source: Human Development Index

These economic and demographic figures have not been chosen accidentally. They cannot per se explain gender relations, but they can pave ways into which meaningful scrutiny could lead. The low proportion of the urban population in the pre-industrial period ascribed rural population higher weight in shaping the profile of Anatolian and Balkan societies in general and of patriarchal patterns specifically. The generally low increase of population until the second half of the 19th century was presumably a stabilizing factor for traditional gender relations. The sharp population increase in the Balkan countries, caused by the decrease of mortality rates and a continuing high level of fertility brought dynamic elements into previously static societies. 20 Patriarchy after Patriarchy

Bibliographical, Methodological, and Theoretical Notes

Notes on Previous Research

Unevenness in time and space, in and about the region, characterizes the research field of family history, the history of social relations, and gender inequalities. In general, a significant number of studies related to the Balkans in pre-industrial and socialist times are at our disposal, whereas studies on the post-socialist period in the Balkans are scarce. On the other hand, Turkish studies which refer to gender relations in the Ottoman and post-Ottoman period are relatively low in number, but numerous when the recent two decades in Turkey are concerned. This reflects the developmental status of social sciences in the respective areas. Whereas social sciences scholarship was held in high esteem in the socialist period – under ideological premises of course – this kind of research in Turkey seems to be rather weakly developed until about the 1990s. Two kinds of scholarship should be distinguished: those emanating from outside the region or from regional scholars trained abroad, mostly at Anglo- American universities, and those trained in the region. Both have equally contributed to the development of the research field. The first group mainly consists of historians, anthropologists, and sociologists, who have studied the pre- industrial and modernizing worlds of the Balkans and Anatolia. Research on Balkan family structures has consistently been a field of intensive collaboration between the mentioned research fields. In this context, the work of Eugene A. Hammel and Maria Todorova has to be mentioned. The first, an anthropologist, has worked with data from Macedonia, Serbia, and Croatia focusing on the Medieval and Ottoman periods as well as on data gathered in field research in the 1960s (Hammel 1968, 1972, 1975, 1976, 1980, 1980a, 1990). The latter, a historian, has conducted general surveys of the Balkans but focused on data from Bulgaria (Todorova 1990, 1993, 1993a, 1994, 1996). The American anthropologist Joel M. Halpern has been concerned with under- taking fieldwork directed towards documentary family-household structures and their functioning at various sites in ex-Yugoslavia and Bulgaria from the 1950s through the 1980s. He analyzed the results both in terms of local community structures and in terms of examining wider regional patterns. Thus, he has intensively examined a village called Orašac in Central Serbia, from 1953- 1986. His work is documented by an abundance of publications, of which only the key publications are mentioned here (Halpern 1956, 1958, 1967, 1967a, 1972, 1977, 1991). The data files he collected in fieldwork during the 1950s and 1960s have been stored at the Centre for Southeast European History at the Introduction 21

Karl-Franzens-University of Graz.1 A special issue of the journal “The History of the Family”, published in 1996, (“Household and Family Contexts in the Balkans”) as well as the author’s monographs (Kaser 1995, 2000) reflect the hitherto achieved research progress of the Graz-based research group. In the second half of the 1990s, an interdisciplinary research group focused its fieldwork on traditional and contemporary family- and kinship structures in Bulgaria. This Bulgarian-Austrian collaboration resulted in a book (Brunnbauer & Kaser 2001), which still provides a good overview of the state of the field. Brunnbauer has devoted part of his work to mountain dwelling societies in the Rhodopes (2002, 2003, 2004, 2004c) and has shed completely new light on the social structure of the Rhodope mountain population. The impact of foreign scholars on the research of patriarchal structures in historical and present times is unquestioned, but the extremely valuable, genuine research that results from the Balkan region itself should not be underestimated. It is always difficult to mention and to leave out names, but two pioneering personalities come immediately to mind: the first is Jovan Cvijiü, the Serbian human-geographer, whose regular fieldwork activities at the end of the 19th and beginning of the 20th century resulted in a monographic book (Cvijiü 1991), which describes Balkan manhood and womanhood in a comparative perspective. Another groundbreaking research work comes from the sociological perspective. The Croatian sociologist Vera Erlich (1966) organized an inquiry in more than 300 villages of the first Yugoslavia in the 1930s on family- and kinship relations and gender issues. Even though the publication of the inquiry was delayed by circumstances related to WWII, it still provides a stimulating resource for family history and gender history research. Gender studies were not fully developed in the period of socialism because Marxist historiography set other priorities. Therefore and because of a general reluctance of historians of the Balkan countries to deal with the socialist period, the early path-breaking works on this period were published outside the region, an example among others being Gail Kligmans pioneering book on reproduction control in socialist Romania (Kligman 1998). Also a good deal of so-called “transition studies” aiming at gender issues originates in Anglo-America-based academia, if only to mention Verdery’s analysis of patriarchy in Eastern Eu- rope (Verdery 2001), or Susan Gal’s and Gail Kligman’s “The Politics of Gen- der After Socialism” (Gal & Kligman 2000). After decades of ideologized research practise, it was difficult to renew the material and conceptional research basis in post-socialist Balkan countries. In relation to the specific research field, three initiatives have to be mentioned. (1) The situation in Serbia under the authoritarian rule of president Miloševiü was harsh, especially in the independence-seeking, predominantly Albanian

1 For a short overview on the history and structure of the database located at the Centre for Southeast European History at Karl-Franzens-University of Graz, see Kaser & Halpern 1994. 22 Patriarchy after Patriarchy province of Kosovo/Kosova. However, at the Faculty of Philosophy in Bel- grade, younger scholars of contemporary history and anthropology began to publish the independent scientific journal “Social History” in 1993 (see http://www.udi.org.yu/annual.asp). Inspired by German Gesellschafts- geschichte, the journal also includes gender issues. A collected volume, edited by Miroslav Jovanoviü and Slobodan Naumoviü (2004), who belong to this group, provides a representative overview of gender-related research in the Balkan countries. In contrast to Turkey in the last two decades, only very little comprehensive sociological research on post-socialist society has been conducted in the Balkan countries. Larger research programs are usually undertaken within the frameworks of national surveys, which mirror society in various fields, such as, for instance, the Serbian National Survey of 2003 (Miliü 2005). (2) In the neighbouring country of Bulgaria, various initiatives at Sofia Univer- sity as well as at universities in the country’s province began to tackle gender issues from historical and anthropological perspectives. The historian Kras- simira Daskalova (2000, 2000a, 2001, 2004) has to be mentioned here as a representative of an entire group of female and male historians who have devoted their work to gender issues. The interdisciplinary-oriented research group around the Balkan Seminar at the University of Blagoevgrad in Southwestern Bulgaria has been focussing on historical-anthropological questions and gender issues since its foundation in 1991. Their publications (collected volumes as well as the journal “Balkanistic Forum”, see http://www.bf.swu.bg/index2.htm) have been including gender issues since the early 1990s. (3) A group of younger Romanian scholars at the New Europe College at Bu- charest launched another remarkable initiative (see http://www.nec.ro/fundatia/ nec/about_us.htm), aiming at a new drive for parallel historical family studies both in the Balkans and in Turkey. This bridge to Turkey is extremely important because of its potential to unite research activities of usually separated research fields, namely Balkan studies and Turkish studies. This leads our attention towards gender-related research on and in Turkey. What has been mentioned already in relation to the Balkans, i.e. that research- ers in the respective countries have followed up research initiatives from outside, holds also true for Turkey. Paul Stirling’s book “Turkish Village” set a milestone in the right direction (Stirling 1965). Stirling had conducted fieldwork in Sakaltutan and in Elbaúı, Muslim villages in the area of Kayseri, in the late 1940s and early 1950s. This was a period when mechanization of agriculture was not yet on the agenda of Turkish governments. His observations reflect deeply rooted and patriarchally shaped gender relations in the pre- industrial Turkish countryside. Later studies, conducted by non-Turkish re- searchers, reflect already rapid change in the countryside, initialized in the 1950s. Paul J. Magnarella’s (Magnarella 1972) study of a changing Turkish town has to be mentioned here, as well as Wolf-Dieter Hütteroth’s geographic Introduction 23 study on “The Influence of Social Structure on Land Division and Settlement in Inner Anatolia” (Hütteroth 1974). Weiker’s book (Weiker 1981) about the modernization processes having taken place in the country since Atatürk’s time, or Shorter’s and Mucura’s volume (Shorter & Macura 1982), which analyses the demographic history of the Turkish Republic, have followed these pioneering studies. Werner Schiffauer (Schiffauer 1983) conducted early research on conflicting sexual relations linked to Turkish labour migration to Germany. Until the early 1970s, Turkish social sciences ignored gender-related issues. Ayúe Kudat Sertel’s studies on ritual kinship in eastern Turkey (Kudat Sertel 1971) and on sex-differences in rural Turkey (Kudat Sertel 1972) represent early forerunners of the massive amount of work that has followed since the 1990s. They were followed by a volume edited by Peter Benedict, Erol Tümer- tekin, and Fatma Mansur (Benedict-Tümertekin & Mansur 1974): “Turkey: Geographic and Social Perspectives”, which focuses on human-geographical aspects. Nermin Abadan-Unat, who edited a first representative volume on “Women in Turkish Society” (Abadan-Unat 1981), set a milestone in the development of Turkish women’s studies. The emerging field of women’s studies is documented, for instance, also by Çi÷dem Kâ÷itçibaúi’s volume (edited with Diane Sunar’s assistance) “Sex Roles, Family, & Community in Turkey” (Kâ÷itçibaúi 1982). Alan Duben and Cem Behar’s predominately demographic research on: “Istan- bul households. Marriage, family and fertility, 1880-1940” (Duben & Behar 1991) set another milestone. Duben had already previously researched Turkish rural communities (1982, 1985), but this book, although analysing only the Muslim sector of Istanbul’s multi-denominational and multi-ethnic population, demonstrated the documentary potential of the Istanbul archives for family studies. This is also indicated by a similar urban family study on the Greek capital of Athens, undertaken by Paul Sant Cassia in collaboration with Con- stantina Bada: “The Making of the Modern Greek Family. Marriage and Ex- change in Nineteenth-Century Athens” (Sant Cassia 1992). Both of these studies underline the role of the urban populations as facilitators of modernized family relations. In the course of the last few years, compared to the previous decades, we have observed a boom in gender related research in Turkey’s social sciences. These studies include, for instance, questions related to fertility (Akadli Ergöçmen 1997), contraception (Koc 2000; Cebecı et al. 2004), migration and gender (Erman 1998, 2001), masculinity and femininity (Özkan & Lajunen 2005), or questions of marital satisfaction of arranged and unarranged marriages (Olcay 2000). Maybe this has to do with the legal changes in family law that have been passed and are expected to be passed by the Turkish Parliament; these legal improvements have brought and will bring, at least theoretically, fundamental rights to Turkish women. 24 Patriarchy after Patriarchy

This overview on research in Turkey and in the Balkans in the given field of inquiry is far from being complete. It would be significantly less complete without mentioning the works of four scholars who have analysed patriarchal structures in wider cultural contexts. Jack Goody’s works on family history have the Eurasian continent in view (Goody 1990, 1996, 2000). Valentine M. Moghadam’s analyses of gender relations (Moghadam 2000, 2003, 2004) start from her postulated New Patriarchy in the Middle East and expand to central Asia, covering also Turkey. The Austrian social historian Michael Mitterauer (Mitterauer 1982, 1990, 1990a, 1996, 2000) turns Moghadam’s perspective, insofar as he has been constantly situating family and kinship structures of the Balkans and Eastern Europe within the European framework. Their perspectives have been contributing significantly to the present research. This is also the case with Göran Therborn’s recent study on patriarchal patterns “Between Sex and Power. Family in the World, 1900-2000” (Therborn 2006). He places Balkan and Turkish societies and patriarchal patterns within a worldwide context in an eye-opening way. In conclusion, the region this book is dealing with still lacks detailed studies on the history of family and kinship relations, which is integral for the analyses of patriarchal patterns. In this respect, Anatolia has remained underinvestigated when compared to the Balkans. Urban studies constitute one of the biggest desiderata along with modern women’s studies. This lack becomes more obvious when we compare the results qualitatively and quantitatively with research on Central, Western, and Southern Europe. Without any exaggeration, until now almost no research has examined the emergence of a more or less homogenous patriarchal pattern within the institutional framework of the Balkan and Anatolian Ottoman Empire and its various transformations in its successor states. For the author, this lack constitutes the source of intellectual challenge, which is both methodological and theoretical in nature. It seems, therefore, to be appropriate here to articulate a methodological note and a theoretical tool related to this work.

Methodological Note

Until about the beginning of the 20th century, the differences in and peculiarities of patriarchal patterns are well visible; this is when processes of amalgamation under labels of “Europeanization”, “westernization”, or “modernization” of Little Eurasia set in. These historical processes open a methodological tension between the “comparativists” and the “transferionists”. The latter have began to challenge the hitherto strong school of comparativists. The controver- sial question is: should we, as social scientists, focus on the differences of historical constellations, or rather concentrate on their common aspects? Compari- son bears the danger of creating otherness by overemphasizing cultural and Introduction 25 social differences seen from a western standpoint, whereas the transfer history approach tends to homogenise differences by pointing at communalities. Co- horts of scholars since the age of enlightenment, who have been dividing Europe and categorizing the world into clear-cut cultural segments, accompanied by evolutionist theories, are warning examples of the first trap. This methodological question is especially urgent since Maria Todorova (Todorova 1997) has put her scholarly finger on the problem whether we, in the case of the Balkans, essentialize regions, which in history and at present do not totally follow the western developmental paths, in our scholarly work. Is it “politically” still correct to compare, and, by doing so, consciously or unconsciously create the other? What constitutes social reality and what is the historian’s construction? The basic question is how we as scholars approach our “objects” of research. Is our mission to categorize the objects we define, is it to be the translator of the standpoints of the objects, or should we let them speak directly, which takes for granted our absolute neutral position as scholars? In a pragmatic view, we as scholars always will play an active role in the production of knowledge. De- pending on our education, the values of the society we were born in, and our individual value system, we are always confronted with differences and similarities when compared to our research objects. The urgency of this question depends on the specific research question. Michael Werner and Bénédicte Zimmermann in a recent article establish a hostile front against the “comparativists”. Comparativists should be aware of a number of difficulties that all involve the tension between the method and the object. These difficulties arise from the fact that, on the one hand, comparison is a cognitive operation that needs binary opposition between differences and similarities; and on the other, the object of comparison is never neutral (Werner & Zimmermann 2006, 33). The authors appeal to a concept they call “histoire croisée”, the stress of which would be laid on the multiplicity of possible viewpoints and the divergences resulting, for instance, from different traditions (Ibid. 31p.). The notion of intersection is basic to the very principle of histoire croisée. Resistances, inertias, and modifications in the process of crossing would both result from and develop themselves in this process. The practises and social institutions intertwined with, or affected by, the crossing process, would not necessarily remain intact and identical in form. Their transformations are connected with the active as well as the interactive nature of their contact. Such transformations would usually be based on reciprocity, but may also derive from asymmetry. The long-term nature of structures deserves to be combined with the short junctures of action in an analysis of social activity based on the study of the dynamic relationships between action and structure. From this perspective, the activity of individuals and social collectives would appear as both structured and structuring, in a relationship of reciprocal relations between structure and action (Ibid. 37p., 48). 26 Patriarchy after Patriarchy

Werner and Zimmermann formulate the histoire croisée’s appeal well and aim at the set of core questions the “comparativist” is confronted with. It deliberately does not mention that croisée-ing is applicable only to a limited set of research questions and has developed in the background of a research metier that does not become explicit in their essay. It also overlooks that the “freezing” of the object in time is not necessarily the decision of the comparativist; the ephemeral character of empirical evidence can impose freezing. Croisée- ing does not occur with constant intensity over time. Mass communication of the 21st century cannot be compared in its intensity to the limited trans-spatial exchange of earlier centuries. The dichotomy of “comparativists” versus “transfer historians” can easily become overemphasized. Nobody is purely “the one” or “the other”. In certain research situations, the application of one or the other approach is fruitful. Thus, in my opinion, there is no objection to a flexibly combined application of tools of historical comparison and transfer history (histoire croisée). In this methodological question, the book’s character is chameleonic. Chapter 2 and 3, which cover the period since about 1950, will exploit some of the potentials of croisée-ing when we look at convergences, which resulted in a “third space” caused by the overlap of “tradition” and “modernity” and the tension at the intersection of “tradition” and “globality”. The pre-industrial period of the history of patriarchy (until approx. 1950) requires the use of the comparativist’s approach; the meagre nature of the documentation encourages us to generalize single findings. Nevertheless, generalization can only make sense against a meaningful theoretical background. This leads us directly to the most important theoretical tool applied in research – the differentiation between tributary and interventionist systems.

Theoretical Tool

The relationship between the respective form of patriarchy and the respective character of administrative institutions established by pre-modern empires and modern states in the course of history is essential. Patriarchal structures are historically deeply embedded in most of the societies in the world. Historically seen, the intervention of powerful institutions, such as religious authorities, the modern state, or an agrarian system, constituted a potential precondition for the lowering of the degree of patriarchal oppression. History documents that patriarchy does not remove itself from power. In the period of time when unwritten customary laws ruled, the relations between human beings changed slowly and the patriarchal structures tended to stay unquestioned. The situation among ruling classes, aristocracy and bourgeoisie, may have differed, of course. Look- ing at the Eurasian continent from historical and comparative perspectives, in this respect we generally may differentiate two models: interventionist and Introduction 27 tributary systems. “Tributary system” is not considered in the Marxist sense here as a “mode of production” (Haldon 1993, 63). On the contrary, Marxists consider the Ottoman state as an institution that had a great impact upon the fundamental structures of social relations, chiefly through their fiscal structures. The early medieval Frankish kingdom through much of its history ex- tracted surplus only indirectly in the form of service and gifts, which permitted the basic unit of peasant production to function without reference to the centre at all (Ibid. 154). We will come here to an exactly opposite evaluation of the interventionist character of both the Empires. Tributary systems are considered here, for instance, tribal confederations, states, and empires, the ruling elites of which had only a limited or no interest at all in organizing the social relations of the ordinary population in a way that was any different from the traditional and customary one. The ruling elites would not try or were not successful in changing these traditional social institutions, because resistance was considerable and therefore the price to be paid would have been too high. Interventionist systems, on the contrary, are constituted by states, empires, and agrarian systems, which had the intention and the means to reorganize the traditional social relations, for instance, in order to be more effective in achieving higher contributions or taxes from the population, to be more effective in the distribution of fertile land, or to avoid its fragmentation. Religious institutions could impose certain marriage rules, could restrict the number of wives per man, or could prevent people from worshipping their ancestors. Interventionist measurements could include the relaxation of patriarchal structures in times before women got the means into their hands to fight for their rights (Kaser 2005, 108). The archaic Greek city-states and the Roman Empire possessed the earliest interventionist systems, which continued to exist for a longer period. Most of the pre-state formations before and many state-like institutions thereafter constituted of tributary systems – generally until the 19th or early 20th centuries. Concerning the social relations between individuals and groups, another important difference between tributary and interventionist systems exists. Tributary systems usually do not establish institutions that would control and direct the everyday behaviour of the mass of the agrarian population. This observation concerns both the general public administration and legal institutions, and results in the freedom of the population to act according to the transmitted customary laws. On the other hand, this prevented the installation of powerful interventionist institutions, which would mediate in conflicts between individuals and groups other than by means of the customary law. On the long run and over many generations, this constellation may have led to alienation between the state and its ruling elite and the masses. If people were confronted with a political framework that collected taxes and contributions without offering something substantial in return, they would hardly develop a feeling of trust of 28 Patriarchy after Patriarchy the ruling elite and their institutions. Such constellations of alienation and distrust between the state and its citizens still exist for instance in countries of the Western Balkans, the Caucasus, or in East- and Southeast Turkey, where people regulate conflicts primarily personally, which sometimes includes blood feuds, without taking into consideration the support of official legal institutions. This kind of unmediated relations is called here “personalized social relations” (Kaser 2001, 28-33). Interventionist systems tend, on the other hand, to develop “institutionalized social relations”. These kind of social relations are characterized by the intervention of public bodies, for instance, in cases of conflict. People incline not to personally resolve conflicts but to pass their cases over to legitimate public organs. The accused is to be punished according to the official criminal and civil codes. German speakers would call this a Rechtsstaat. Archaic Greek city- states and the Roman Empire historically practised this kind of institutionalized social relations. In the late period of the Roman Empire, for instance, the state intruded to a greater extent than before into domestic affairs (Goody 2000, 23). Europe, therefore, from the early Middle Ages up to the 19-20th centuries was characterized by interventionist (institutionalized) regimes in its north-western and central regions and tributary (personalized) ones in its southern, south- eastern, and eastern parts, which were constantly open to waves of migrations from Inner Asia. The character of the Kievian Rus’ and its successor, the Ro- manov Russia, reflects this, for instance. Sometimes described as “absolute monarchs”, they were in fact highly decentralized, with vast domains of everyday life, including family life, beyond the control of central governments. Lo- cal and regional usages and constraints shaped family forms and gender relations. The state as the highest political authority seldom touched directly upon and seldom sought to influence the family domain. The structure of the state was weak and under-governed, and the state’s policies for social change were directionless. Only with the beginning of the 1800s did the situation start to change; the reform of the “backward” countryside came on the agenda (Plakans 2002, 73-77). The Ottoman state as a multi-ethnic Empire subdued large portions of the population to its limited control by demanding the acknowledgment of its sov- ereignty. The enforced payment of tributes and taxes was the easiest way to achieve this aim. On the other hand, the Empire respected regional customary laws that were not explicitly opposed to the essence of Islamic law. This legal pluralism was typical for pre-modern empires that were not able or willing to control their peripheries. The Ottoman Empire was never a nation-state and, therefore, integration or even assimilation of its various ethnic groups was of no interest (Reinkowski 2005, 121-125). Several empirical examples may exemplify the tributary character of the Otto- man Empire, which left customary laws largely untouched. The sultans granted the Orthodox Church limited juristic power over the Orthodox subjects of the Introduction 29

Empire, exercised by the Patriarch and his clergy. This extended to aspects of civil law (marriage, divorce, testamentary dispositions) as well as to clerical disputes. In cases of dispute, the parties were free to seek arbitrators among their own people, who were expected to settle cases “according to their customs”. For instance, on the Aegean group of islands, called the Cyclades, with its majority Greek population, the Ottomans respected the customary laws, with root in the Byzantine era, when they conquered the islands in 1566. The Byzan- tine inscription on the customary law is evident: in the 14th century, a Manual of Laws, the so-called Hexabiblos by an author, known as Armenopoulos, had been collected. This compendium for the use of judiciary and laity alike was an innovative attempt at systematic codification. This was perhaps the main reason that the Hexabiblos served as the basis and source of law for nearly six centuries for the Orthodox population – not only on the Cyclades but also throughout the Balkans (Kasdagli 1999, 74-77; Kasdagli 2004, 260-266). The customary law called Kanun i Lek Dukagjinit is a good example of the western periphery of the Ottoman Empire. Developed in the region of Prizren, nowadays situated in the independence seeking province of Kosovo/Kosova, nevertheless, its range of application included also the northern parts of modern Albania, the south-western parts of Montenegro, and the western provinces of Macedonia, populated by Albanians. The pillars of this kanun were: (a) the principle of honour; (b) the equality of males; (c) the freedom to act within the framework of the kanun without requiring the command of another person; (d) the word of honour, besa. Probably dating from the early Ottoman presence in the region (late 15th century), parts of it was written down in the second half of the 19th century. The most voluminous collection of the customary law was compiled by the Franciscan priest Shtjefën Gjeçovi (1874-1929) at the end of the 1920s (Reinkowski 2005, 129-138; Doll 2003, 148-154). Similar was the situation with customary law on the north-eastern fringes of the Ottoman sphere of influence, in the Caucasian regions. Until the Russian and Soviet reforms in the 19th and 20th centuries – the Russians expansion into this region began in the late 18th century – there was no state-initiated functioning legal order, regulating the public sphere, in use. The patriarchally shaped customary law used to regulate the relations between the people. Islamic law could gain a significant impact on family life only from the 19th century onwards. In the course of this century, Islamic law significantly influenced the spheres of marital, familial, and inheritance relationships, more than other fields of customary law (Babiþ 2005, 262). This was the likely situation in the Anatolian countryside until the middle of the 20th century: the Turkish Republic had introduced western civil and criminal codes in the 1920s onto a corpus of patrimonial traditions of great longevity. A written civil code never took root. Rather the older patrimonial codes continued to be effective at the level of everyday life of people even in the public sphere. In their daily activities, people relied on this older “informal” system 30 Patriarchy after Patriarchy of justice, interpersonal expectations, and informal reciprocities (Duben 1982, 86). The Ottoman Empire as tributary state constituted thus a solid framework for the fostering of traditional patriarchal structures, based on mostly unwritten customary laws. Its form of administration constituted a tributary system until it initiated the era of interventionist reforms in the first half of the 19th century. Tributary administration preserved and affirmed local and regional customs. When an increasingly interventionist administration began to question the traditional laws and customs in order to establish a modern state, endless local and regional rebellions were the consequence. The material the book is based upon is organized diachronically; its sub- chapters, however, are thematically oriented. The form of the state – tributary or interventionist – constituted the structural framework for the establishment of social relations; it provided the structures for the individual and collective actors in their ambitions to petrify or to destabilize the existing order between the sexes. Therefore, the character of the state became the decisive parameter for the organization of the empirical material. The history of gender relations in the region can be divided into roughly three periods. The first chapter comprises the long period of the existing tributary state and traditional patriarchy until approx. 1950. The tributary state provided a framework, which left gender relations and the power asymmetries between men and women almost untouched. Patriarchally shaped gender relations were primarily encapsulated in kinship systems and family relations. The sub-chapters on kinship relations and family forms are “frozen” in time until about the second half of the 19th century. For the preceding era, the character of the historical evidence does not allow the reconstruction of eventual dynamic changes in time and space. For the period from about the second half of the 19th century, the empirical evidence becomes denser. This allows the differentiation and identification of factors of both persistence and social change. The second chapter unfolds in the background of massive interventions of the socialist state into practically every sphere of life. Intervention aimed at destroying the traditional social relations and substituting them with those of the “new socialist man”. The period of time from about 1950 and approx. 1990 was doubtless an era of decline of patriarchy. The Turkish and Greek states also increased their interventionist tendencies. After almost a decade of war (WWII, 1940-1944, and the subsequent Civil War, 1946-1949), the Greek state recovered and began to intervene into gender relations, for instance by granting women’s suffrage for elections to the National Parliament (1952); women voted for the first time in national general elections in 1956 (Halkias 2004, 38). The Turkish state increasingly began to control its rural areas from the 1950s; improvement of infrastructure and land reforms were among the most important interventionist instruments. All the countries of the region introduced massive processes of transformation that resulted in internal migration, industriali- Introduction 31 zation, and urbanization. Low population density in Turkey and decreasing population in socialist states such as Bulgaria and Romania exposed their peoples to experiments in population politics. Pronatalist policies and the illegali- zation of abortion constituted the primary means of family planning. This state patriarchy scarcely scratched upon the traditional private patriarchy, nor established legal equality of men and women, and the “women’s question” was declared resolved; autonomous women’s movements were dissolved. The family came into the reticule of socialist modernization and ideology. Whereas ideology and reality were far from being aligned, massive migration created a new reality: only few remnants of the traditional family structures remained at the end of this period. On the other hand, elements of traditional gender relations were absorbed into the modernized family. In Turkey, the abolition of patriarchal relations became part of the Kemalist reform package of state feminism, but, in fact, only the urban population were affected, whereas the vast majority of the rural population remained untouched. Therefore, the contrast between traditional gender and family relations and modernized ones is much more pronounced in Turkey than in post-socialist states. The third period of the history of patriarchy in the region is not yet concluded. It set in with the process of transition after 1989-91; this is about the time when Turkey increasingly became confronted with a re-strengthened Islam with its embedded conservative values concerning family and gender relations. This tendency of re-traditionalization is in sharp contrast to the vanishing state feminism and to the development of the legal sector, which liberated women from many restrictions of the past since the late 1990s. These contrasts are also mirrored in the question of veiling. Whereas the Kemalist modernizers consider the veil (türban) as a conservative reaction, for many the veil has become a sign of Islamic modernity. The character of the post-socialist state is remarkably different from its prede- cessor. State patriarchy as well as the public sector disappeared to a large extent, and the population became exposed to a deregulated world of globalization and economic liberalism. These processes are, of course, not gender- neutral: the social security risks for women are considerable higher than for men; women are more badly hit by unemployment than men are; women have withdrawn to a remarkable extent from the public sphere. Women’s movements are fragmented and women in politics are marginal. In addition, the post- socialist state is weak and its institutions are inefficient. The informal sector has been growing considerably and social relations have become increasingly personalized. The elements of a tributary state are again visible and its interventionist capacity has decreased. This provides the framework for the so- called “patriarchal backlash”, which is more pronounced in former Yugoslav countries that had been at war. Post-socialist countries as well as Turkey and Greece constitute male democracies. The backlash phenomenon is clearly visible and expressed in male dominated public spheres, the increasing popularity of the male breadwinner concept, and the marginalization of gays and lesbians, 32 Patriarchy after Patriarchy on the one hand. On the other hand, the first faint signs of the onset of the SDT are visible, which is indicated by an initial individualization of life-styles and plurification of gender arrangements; certain trends of fertility behaviour and of conception of sexuality speak for convergences towards “European” standards; others against them. The answer to the question “Patriarchy after Patriarchy?” very much depends on the future profile of previously “post-socialist” states and whether the Turkish Republic is able to defend its secularistic core. Also, whether or not future governments will take energetic measures in order to enforce gender equality and empowerment of women is crucial. Here, several limitations of this study have to be mentioned. First of all, it is not based on primary research – at least none that has been conducted specifically for it – but brings together research results of other scholars under an umbrella, which has not yet been opened. The results of this synoptical strategy, hopefully, justify the author’s procedure. Another shortcoming is that the structural level prevails throughout the book, and the historical actors in their narrower or wider ability to take part in the process of forming structures stay hidden throughout significant portions of this book. They become visible in those sections, where, for instance, women’s movements are addressed. Critical readers may argue that the analysis of actor-driven patriarchal real life situations (Lebenswelten) would have made my arguments more convincing. I see this deficit, too, but the structure of the book as well as the available material, especially for Chapter 3, do not allow more than what has been done. Another weak point may possibly be the mixture of qualitative and quantitative data, of “soft” and “hard” data, especially in Chapter 3. I am completely aware of this issue, but I have come to the conclusion that the current contradictory social and cultural processes in the area under investigation can best be revealed by the consideration of different methodological approaches. It is up to the critical reader to decide whether the author’s speculation is justified or not. CHAPTER 1

Patriarchy in Power (approx. 1500-1950)

The term “patriarchy” is not used here in its strictest interpretation as “rule of the father”. As we shall see, in our region – but not only here – it was not necessarily the father who ruled, but the eldest man of a household. In many cases, it was the uncle or the father’s elder brother of an individual household member, who had highest authority. The hierarchy of age had been structuring the relations between male household members in pre-industrial times. For the purpose of analysis, however, it is insufficient to understand patriarchy simply as the rule of the father, the eldest, or the husband. We have to look also at the formalized rules that carry a patriarchal concept: inheritance rules, child obedience, marriage arrangements, residence at marriage, the presence or absence of institutionalized sexual asymmetry such as polygamy and different adultery rules, or the obedience of women (Therborn 2006, 13p.). This exactly is what is meant when the text refers to different patriarchal patterns: the various constellations of these elements to each other. Patriarchal society as a pre-capitalist social formation has historically existed in Eurasia in varying forms in which property, residence, and descent proceeded through the male line. The key to the reproduction of traditional patriarchy lied in the operations of the patrilocally extended household, which is also commonly associated with the reproduction of the peasantry in agrarian societies. The subordination of women in kinship-ordered, agrarian societies was linked to the reproduction of the kin group of the peasantry as well as to the sexual division of labour. Giving birth to male children was the central female duty. In the context of traditional patriarchy, women were considered a form of property. Their honour and, by extension, the honour of their original and married-in families, depended in great measure on their virginity and good conduct (Moghadam 2004, 141pp.). The forms of pre-modern patriarchy in Eurasia Minor are summarized as a complex of hierarchical values embedded in a social structural system defined by both gender and age. This structuring is further linked to a system of values orienting both family life and broader social units. Patriarchy in Eurasia Minor achieved its historical form through the classical complex and interlocking systems of patrilineality, patrilocality, and a patriarchially oriented customary law. They not only ascribe position by gender, but also allocate to men the predominant role in society. An obvious corollary to this defined structure is the formal subordination of women within the context of an overtly “protective” family and household environment. Its broader manifestations are many, but are perhaps best exemplified by the supremacy of male moral authority, reinforced through both traditional and formal state law codes. As a system, Eurasia Minor’s patriarchy has much in common with similar well-documented 34 Patriarchy after Patriarchy systems in Asia and the Near East. The region’s situation is differentiated, however, in that this system existed both within and outside formal state structures. For example, the particular forms in which this pervasive concept of patriarchy has been expressed are sensitive to the differences between agricultural and pastoral economies. Indeed, the same peoples have alternated from one system to another: the former being associated with state-level structures and the latter based on pastoral tribal organizations (Kaser, Halpern & Wagner 1996, 427). The optimal framework, where traditional patriarchal structures could best develop and unfold, was a tributary political and agrarian order such as the one represented by the Ottoman Empire. A male-dominated hierarchical order based upon genealogy, generation, and birth was inscribed into the political system of the Ottoman Empire as a distant inheritance of the steppe – and also the tributary character of the political system. By 1900, little had happened to patriarchy in Eastern Europe and Eurasia Minor. The areas were still overwhelmingly rural. The Orthodox Church condoned arranged marriages, which were still very frequent. In Russia, the Emancipation of 1861 did not seem to have made much change to family matters; the Emancipation Decree explicitly stated that local customs and traditions of household norms should be followed (Therborn 2006, 26pp.). In Ottoman Eurasia Minor, Muslim family law was based on the sharia (the Islamic religious law) until the introduction of a new family law by the Young Turks’ regime in 1917. This was the first Muslim family law in the world not based on the sharia. In contrast to women in other regions of Europe until the 19th or 20th centuries, Ottoman women, at least theoretically, controlled their property also after marriage. They, too, were after their puberty legal subjects, which meant that they were allowed to claim injus- tice in front of a kadı (Islamic judge). In cities and towns, women often used this opportunity. The only problem was that, according to the sharia, their potential of being a witness was limited; the witness value of a woman was only a half. Therefore, in many cases one male witness had to be confronted with several female witnesses. Polygyny in scientific literature has been overestimated. Although it is not possible to prove this statement with numerical evidence, the kadıs’ protocols only give proof of a rather limited number of such cases. Only in rare cases was a second woman mentioned as heir (Faroqhi 1995, 118p., 333). Although marriage with up to four wives was permitted hitherto by Is- lamic law, the predominant form for instance in Istanbul was very clearly monogamy. In rapidly westernizing Istanbul throughout the second half of the 19th century, the polygynous marriage pattern was increasingly refused. This trend was given legal sanction in the Family Law of 1917, which in its Article 38 specified that a woman had the right to forbid her husband to take a second wife. The law added a clause to the marriage contract stipulating that she would in this case automatically receive a divorce. That article was a great novelty within traditional Ottoman Islamic law. The legislators attempted to create obstacles to polygynous unions without departing completely from the basic Patriarchy in Power 35 framework of the sharia. Polygyny was made illegal, finally, in the Turkish Civil Code of 1926 (Duben & Behar 1991, 149p.). In the successor states of the Empire, legislation did not move much into the direction of gender equality. The Serbian Civil Code of 1844, for instance, was fully permeated with the concept of women’s inferior position in society. This was for example reflected in the inheritance law, which denied female children the right to inheritance in case the deceased left behind sons or their male successors. Women were entirely deprived of the legal right to inheritance. Inferi- ority of women’s private legal position was particularly pronounced for married women and resulted in their business incapacity. In this regard, they were not different from a junior minor, i.e. a child under seven years of age. In addition, the husband’s power restricted the wife in exercising her public rights, because she was not allowed to work in any profession without her husband’s consent (Draškiü & Popoviü-Obradoviü 1998, 24p.). Except for the North Atlantic area, the world around 1900 was still deeply patriarchal. The law of the fathers and elder men ruled the world of children; wives were institutionally subordinate to husbands virtually everywhere; marriages were arranged. Among the major American-Indian populations, among the Creole elites of the Americas, in Mediterranean Europe, the Balkans, Rus- sia, in Eastern Europe, and all over Asia and Africa, marriage was first of all a parental affair. Polygyny was normatively permitted all over Africa and Asia, except for Japan, which had just outlawed it. Divorce was a male privilege in China and in Muslim countries; female seclusion was a Muslim and Northern Indian norm, and respectable female movement in public spaces was restricted almost everywhere. As daughters, women had fewer or no inheritance rights at all. Widows were socially dead in India, and were often prevented from re- marrying in China (Therborn 2006, 70p.). Even if generally patriarchal or male-dominated, Eurasia of 1900 was highly differentiated. The poles were the North-western European family system on the one hand, and China on the other. Norms of free choice of marriage, of new household formation upon marriage, and a less bounded kinship system taking account of both the maternal and the paternal side made the North-western European family stand out as significantly less patriarchal. The further south and east one ventured from North-western Europe, the more rigid the patriarchal rules one would find. Patrilineality and patrilocality were the rules almost everywhere in Eurasia, in most parts of Africa, and among the larger Indian populations of America. Only South-eastern Asia as well as most of the North- ern Atlantic area practised bilateral kinship (Ibid. 71). Eurasia Minor fits into this overall picture: patrilineal kinship structure, predominantly patrilocal residence, inheritance practises that excluded a great portion of women from property transfer, polygyny, although practised on a low scale among Muslims, women and wives legally disadvantaged and considered as immature children, children who owed obedience to their fathers and/or husbands. 36 Patriarchy after Patriarchy

The central aim of this chapter is to scrutinize traditional patriarchal structures in the period of the tributary systems’ predominance. This period stretches up to about the middle of the 20th century, when, on the one hand, the newly established socialist regimes in the Balkan countries and, on the other hand, the Turkish state increasingly was able to integrate and control the countryside, except for the peripheral areas, and to enforce legal measures on both the urban and the rural population. In doing so, the first subchapter will focus on variants of patriarchal kinship organization. This is reflected, for instance, in forms of spiritual kinship, ancestor worship, name-giving practises, village organization, or exogamy rules. The second subchapter will deal with the predominant patriarchal household and family forms, marriage arrangements, residence patterns, household cycles, and modes of property transfer. The first two subchapters cannot utilize a dynamic approach because of the scarcity of empirical evidence. The third subchapter will include historical dynamics. It will provide a general overview of components of prevalence and progress with regard to traditional gender relations. Issues are closedness and openness of local and regional communities, the demographic constraints of rural and urban environments, and the impact of forced migration caused by wars and of labour migration, as well as of the FDT on family relations.

1. Kinship Relations

“We are embarrassed to ask him. He has already done a lot for us and there is nothing we can do for him. So we will not ask him for anything else.” (Creed 1998, 269)

Patriarchy in pre-modern times had been inscribed into the all-important personalized institutions such as family and kinship. This is especially the case in regions where administrative institutions were and still are weak, such as in South and Eastern Europe, or Eurasia Minor. Where administrative institutions fail, family and kinship bonds as well as alternative social networks such as patron-client relations substitute abstract institutional bodies. There has been an exhaustive discussion on questions of what family is and where family ends and kinship bonds begin, by demographers, sociologists, anthropologists, and historians in the course of the last four decades or so. Without going into details, the preliminary state of the art is that family cannot be defined in a way that covers family practises all over the world or at a certain place or a certain point of time. One distinction that has been made is between family and the household: the family consisting of a group of immediate kin, the household as a unit of consumption, consisting of a shared roof, shared income and expendi- ture, shared usage rights, such as pastures, woodland, springs, or the communal Patriarchy in Power 37 soil, and shared property, such as fields, animals, or working tools. Kin and non-kin such as servants, serfs, and other people, who share a common residence permanently, or for a certain period, can form a household. However, this distinction does not always match social reality. Family is not necessarily constituted by a group of co-residing kin but can consist of an emotionally closely linked group. This may include children, who study or work at places different from their parent’s residence, aunts, uncles, or cousins residing elsewhere. They visit each other on a regular basis, and difficulties will be treated as a family issue. These emotional bonds may also include non-kin. A household may administratively be divided, let’s say, between brothers (and their wives and children), but would continue collaboration helping out with labour and/or money regardless of reciprocity – and the father still would keep authority over his sons. Modern administrations are inclined to take censuses, and for this purpose, they have to define what is considered a family or/and a household. However, this does not necessarily match social reality. Therefore, the terms “family” and “kinship” will be kept flexible here. Similar difficulties arise when we start to differentiate between kinship and patron-client relations. Kinship seems to be easily defined: a group of persons linked through descent and/or marriage. However, how many generations are included in the descent and how close are in-married kin to a given individual? Administrative bodies such as, for instance, the Christian Church, defined where kinship ended when it came to the question of who was allowed to marry whom. The second or third cousin can be considered as non-kin administratively – but how about social reality, how about sororate and levirate? More- over, what was the situation with all forms of spiritual kinship and customary law, and were they encouraged or permitted by the Churches? Spiritual kinship relates people hitherto unrelated. This leads to the question of the terminological difference between kinship and patron-client relations, the latter generally defined as an asymmetrical relation between a powerful person who had access to important resources that the less powerful did not have. Such relations in social reality were and are established via spiritual kinship – marriage sponsorship, baptismal sponsorship, kinship by milk, and similar practises. What kind of mutual obligations do such relationships exactly include, and in which constellations will they be activated? We could even proceed to terms such as nepotism and friendship; both need the symmetrical or nearly symmetrical exchange of goods and favours to exist. Both friendship and nepotism- relationship may include kin and non-kin. Well, where to start and where to end? The confusing picture becomes clearer, albeit not definitely clear, when we insert the term of patriarchy, in its pre-modern version considered as the male elder’s rule over the younger men and related women. Since patriarchal structures are by definition and in practise asymmetrical in personal relations, patriarchal power would not include friendship and nepotism in its common understanding. Patriarchal power, as a precondition, needs primarily its acknowl- 38 Patriarchy after Patriarchy edgement by those who are expected to be controlled by it. Predominantly personalized relationships discerned from other hierarchical structures of institutions need a simple order. Age is a fundamental criterion in this context. Age means life-experience, coming close to the dead ancestors, having the right to accept visitors and to welcome them; it means accumulated honour in a rural world that lacks material wealth. Honour does not depend on what an individual man defines as his personal honour, but rather on the definition of the narrower community. In the following sections, we have to put traditional kinship organization of Eurasia Minor into European and Near East contexts. By means of comparative analyses we will, of course, discover several similarities, but also decisive specifics that explain the emergence of a specific patriarchal pattern in Eurasia Minor.

Kinship Relations in Europe and the Near East

Drawing a fictive map of kinship systems practised in Eurasia by early tribal societies – leaving aside Eastern, South-eastern, and Southern Asia – based on earliest evidence, roughly three areas will appear on the map. All three of them, of course, favoured the male side of human organization but resulted in different variants of patriarchal structure. (1) Western and Central Europe, constituting the western fringes of the Eura- sian continent, was exposed to migrating peoples after the demise of the West Roman Empire, especially to Celtic, Germanic, and Slavic tribes. This influx of peoples ended more or less in the period that is called in German Völkerwan- derung (migration of peoples) in the early medieval period. We may assume that the Germanic peoples were originally patrilineally organized, but the kinship focus switched to bilateral kindred from the time of permanent settlement. The Germanic Sippe obviously was not any longer unilineal, although patrilineality was frequent on the Celtic fringes of Europe such as Ireland and Scot- land. It was based upon the kindred. Bilateral kinship groups obviously were widespread in early Germanic Europe (Ibid. 46p; Gaunt 2001, 261p.). This does not exclude an agnatic bias, which is reflected, for instance, in kinship terminology. After the Völkerwanderung, the massive migration towards Cen- tral and Western Europe ceased. This demographic stability was one of the factors that enabled the establishment of stable empires such as the Merovin- gian and the Carolingian. After the division of the Carolingian Empire into an Eastern and a Western part, the West was supposed to end in the French King- dom and the East in the so-called Roman Empire of German Nationhood. With the help of the Catholic Church, the latter Empire was able to integrate neighbouring regions such as Bohemia, Hungary, or Croatia into its power sphere. The two political blocs established an agrarian system that was inter- Patriarchy in Power 39 ventionist to a high degree, which resulted in specific family, kinship and gender-relations based on the Sippe. (2) In the narrower Northern Mediterranean, kinship organization was based on conjugality; agnatic relations and descent were of minor importance. The conjugal couple was the primary social unit and did not constitute an integral part of superior descent groups. Women were endowed; property transmission from one generation to the other occurred parallel in male and female lines (Kaser 2000, 32). The existence of a female dowry and the parallel endowment of men meant that the marital pair was independent to a significant extent from their respective natal groups by being set up with a conjugal fund (Goody 2000, 16). The kinship and inheritance system that was widespread, for instance in Medi- terranean Greece and Southern Italy, originated in the interventionist legislation of Classical Greece and the Roman Empire, which influenced earlier agnatic principles (Ibid. 45-48). (3) Early Arab social organization differed from that of the peoples emigrating from the Asian steppe to the Balkans and the Anatolian areas. Early Turkish kinship organization – and presumably also the kinship organization of other peoples migrating from the Inner Asian steppe towards the European continent – was different, on the one hand, from Germanic social organization and, on the other hand, different from Arab (and also Kurdish) social organization. Turkish social organization, and that of the Asian steppe in general, was exogamous and hierarchical. It was organized on the basis of (1) genealogical distance, (2) generational distance, and (3) birth order. Genealogical distance, or segmentation, on the one hand, was a way of orienting individuals belonging to descent groups in patterned relationships of alliance and antagonism in the absence of other hierarchies. Generational distance and birth order, on the other hand, both expressed and determined rank and internal differentiation within the descent group. In the steppe, the elder-younger distinction became a critical factor in social hierarchy. Of the various collateral patrilineages, the senior in order of descent from the founding ancestor, the line of eldest sons, was the most noble. No one had their exact equal; everyone found their place in a system of collaterally ranked lines of descent from a common ancestor. This conjunction implied internal ranking, of both individuals and groups, and a tendency towards hierarchy, expansion, and the eventual disintegration of the lineage structure, as the political and economic unit became paramount at higher levels of organization (Lindholm 1986, 341p.). (4) In contrast, early Arab kinship organization was endogamous and egalitarian. It did not acknowledge legitimacy neither to seniors nor to hierarchy. In Middle Eastern systems, no lineage, clan, or person had any legitimate right to claim superiority over any other, and such claims were always resisted. The distinction between the pliable, egalitarian, and individualistic structure of Middle Eastern kinship structuring and the more rigid, hierarchical, and group- oriented Turkish kinship system is mirrored in the marriage patterns sanctioned 40 Patriarchy after Patriarchy in these two cultures. In the Middle East, the favoured marriage is to the father’s brother’s daughter. Marriage with the father’s brother’s daughter emphasizes the patriline by idealizing marriage within it. Turkish kinship terminology and practise, following an Inner Asian model, indicates quite a different historical pattern: an articulation of society into distinctive and well-demarcated descent groups of superiors and inferiors intermarrying in a pattern known as marriage of men to their mother’s brother’s daughters. Marriage relations structured by this pattern have long since lost significance among Turks, but the terminology still lingers to indicate the past structure of ranked patrilines, and Turks still prohibit the close and lineage-disrupting marriages within the patriline that was favoured by Middle-Easterners (Lindholm 1996, 124p.). The differences of kinship organizations between Arabs and Turks are the main reason for not including the non-Anatolian parts of the Ottoman Empire into this study. When we look at the four different kinship systems from the aspect of gender relations, the pronounced conjugal principle, which included systematic endowment of women, provided the highest standard of equality of the sexes in patriarchal pre-modern Europe. A kindred-based kinship structure such as that of the Germanic tribes supposedly possessed less harsh patriarchal elements compared to patrilineal systems, since the female line was paid more attention than in patrilineally structured social relations. The Arab system and the kinship system of Eurasia Minor were, because of their patrilineal structure and agnatic focus, the less favourable ones for women. The predominantly practised kinship structure in pre-industrialized Eurasia Minor was based on patrilineality, which favours man’s dominance in community, society, and family life in very articulate forms; the kinship group was based on male descent; women did not create kinship bonds; property was transferred exclusively in the male line. Kinship in most of the rest of Europe was organized bilaterally or conjugally. Kinship here consisted of blood kin and relatives by marriage; property transfer to women was not forbidden or was even prescribed, the latter exemplified by traditions of the Mediterranean area. The differences of kinship structures are reflected in kinship terminology. We can basically differentiate three kinds of kinship terminology that is of relevance here: (1) Lineal terminology comprises only one term for the mother and father’s brother and the mother and father’s sister, respectively. This means that a differentiation between the mother and father’s side is of no importance. (2) Bifurcated-collateral terminology provides specific terms for brothers and sisters of father and mother’s sides. (3) A mixed type integrates both the lineal and the bifurcated-collateral terminology; the lineal terminology is applied to the mother’s side, the bifurcated-collateral terminology to the father’s side. The bifurcated-collateral type and the mixed type correspond to unilineal (patrilineal) kinship structure: since the male line is decisive, the father’s brother is differentiated from the mother’s brother. The terminological differentiation between the mother and father’s brother in a system of descent originates from Patriarchy in Power 41 the different roles and functions they are expected to fulfil in community and society. The father’s brother is ascribed high authority, equalling the father’s authority. They could share the same household, whereas the mother’s brother never could. The latter would live in any case in another household, would belong to another descent group, and would not have authority over ego’s descent group. On the other hand, the terminological merging of father’s sister and mother’s sister is based on the logic of the patrilineal structure. Since the father’s sister has to leave the household upon marriage and the mother’s sister is also married into another household, i.e. they could never live in the same household, their terminological differentiation does not seem to be necessary (Kaser 1995, 170p.). The kinship structures of the Mediterranean and in Western Europe – if ever patrilineal – had changed into bilateral ones from antiquity. Changing kinship terminology is considered only as a rough indicator for a changing kinship system here. The biggest problem is that terminology very often survives the social structure in which it originated. The advantage of this terminological method, however, is that one can compare social relations among kin in its long-term development. One of the long-term trends is the move from the ancient bifurcated-collateral to lineal terminology; the differentiation of paternal and maternal lines ceases. Father brother and mother brother, father sister and mother sister are not differentiated any longer terminologically. In Ancient Rome, for instance, the father brother was patruus, the mother brother avuncu- lus; in Old Germanic the father brother was called Vetter und the mother brother Oheim. In the course of merging into a lineal system, patruus and avuncu- lus became paralleled, for instance in French into oncle, in German Oheim and Vetter into Onkel. This process had an impact on other kinship grades, too (Mitterauer 2000, 13p.). In the early Middle Ages, this process of parallelization had an impact on two major European languages only, although both are of specific importance: Greek and Vulgar Latin. The Greek terminology in Homeric times still was undoubtedly bifurcated-collateral; for the period between the fifth and the 3rd centuries BC, the tendency toward parallelization is obvious. Centuries later, in late Roman Antiquity, we can observe a similar process. All Romanic languages display this tendency since the early medieval times. Among the Ger- manic languages, this transition occurred first in English language after the Norman Conquest, the other German languages followed in early modern times. The Polish, Russian, and Hungarian languages underwent this process only in the course of the 20th century (Ibid. 14-17). Balkan and Turkish languages still differentiate the mother brother from the father brother – an expression of patrilineal kinship ideology that is still in practise or not yet forgotten. A further indicator is emerging spiritual kinship, which gained importance in the world of Christianity in the period between the third and the 9th century. It originated in the act of baptism. Spiritual kinship was parallelized to kinship by 42 Patriarchy after Patriarchy blood; this went parallel to the transformation process from the bifurcated- collateral kinship terminology to the lineal terminology. Godparenthood was attributed parental functions. The tendency was to forbid marriages among spiritual relatives; it was stronger in Eastern Christianity where, unlike in the West, the godparent usually was of different sex than the child. Two large Eu- ropean regions with different importance of godparenthood can be singled out. In the Mediterranean, Eastern and South-eastern Europe, godparenthood (com- pater, commater, compaternitas, koumbaros, kumstvo) had the function of establishing also horizontal kinship bounds along with the vertical ones, whereas in Western and Central Europe, the necessity of creating additional kinship relations was obviously considered less urgent; therefore preferably vertical bounds were concluded (Ibid. 28-31). Another factor is the merging of elder and younger siblings. This kind of differentiation was scarcely developed in Western and Central Europe except for e.g., among sons of noble families where primogeniture was practised. Among the peasant population, such kinds of differentiation would not have made sense, since both primogeniture and ultimogeniture had been practised as rules for property transfer. In most of the Balkan languages as well as in Hungarian and Ottoman Turkish, this differentiation was a consequence of the practised principle of seniority. In Bulgarian, besides the differentiation of elder and younger brothers and sisters, elder and younger sisters-in-law and brothers-in- law are also differentiated terminologically. This differentiation has no origin in the Indo-European languages, and there are no European parallels outside the Balkan Peninsula. However, it was widespread among the populations of the steppe, especially among the Turkish populations and the Finno-Ugrians (Ibid. 37p; Kaser 1995, 172p.). The dynamics of changing kinship terminology in Western and Mediterranean Europe obviously originated in the late antique Mediterranean Roman Empire. In the Middle Ages, France and England became the centres of this dynamic change, except for the Celts on the very fringes of the continent. Central- Eastern Europe was included into this process through the Ostkolonisation, the East colonization (11–14th centuries), which transferred a mass of Germanic population and the Germanic Law to east of the river Elbe, including the Baltic regions. This change in terminology signals the fading meaning of patrilineality, of family structure based on patrilineality, and of descent ideology. In parallel, the conjugal bonds were strengthened (Mitterauer 2000, 40). This process reflects also an emerging institutionalized framework in form of the Lehenswe- sen (a kind of network consisting of mutual social obligations between property owners and farmers), which positioned family and kinship into a wider institutional framework. This was not the case in tributary systems; family and kin kept comparatively high importance. Kinship organization and kinship terminology of the Middle East reflects the importance of descent. The ties of descent are imaginary ways of conceptualiz- Patriarchy in Power 43 ing and realizing bonds of mutual help and affection. The concept of descent is important, since it is through the figuring lens of kinship ideology that the ego constructs relationships. A person who is simply attached as a subordinate to a lineage is not bound to the others by affection. Conversely, a client or an ally who is initiated as a full member of the group is eventually conceptualized as a blood kin, and a pedigree may be incorporated. Rights and duties are legitimized in terms of blood relationships that would become accepted as “real”. Lineages are traced only through the father. Men and women drawing up their genealogies will typically only trace the male line. It is through the male line that membership in the lineage obtains, with all its rights and obligations, its honour and pride. Since “brothers” share inheritance and other kinship rights and responsibilities, they are very likely to live contiguously or at least in close proximity. Campsites of nomads are usually made up of men of the same patrilineage. Members of the patrilineage are singled out terminologically from maternal relatives, and one’s father’s brother and one’s mother’s brother are known by different terms (Lindholm 1996, 53pp.). Coincidental with patrilineality is a strong and parallel tendency toward patrilocality. To compensate, men often marry to their own father’s brother’s daughters, in order to keep them in patrilineage. Father’s brother’s daughter marriage (parallel cousin—bint ‘amm) is highly favoured in the Near East. This favoured marriage pattern very strikingly differentiates the region from all those surrounding it, where such parallel cousin marriages are strictly forbidden (Ibid. 55). Turkish kinship and marriage systems do not follow this pattern. It adds two more modes onto this simple genealogical structure: generational distance, or the rank of generation in relation to a common ancestor; and birth order, the rank of brothers in relation to one another. They both express and determine rank and internal differentiation, as elder brothers and the lineages descended from elder brothers are terminologically marked as superior. There are also remarkable differences in kinship terminology. Near Eastern kinship, like Inner Asian, does mark the maternal and paternal lines; but there is no merging of generations in collateral lines as reflected in the kinship terminologies of the peoples of Eurasia Minor, nor is there any terminological discrimination among kin groups by generation or siblings by age. Near Eastern terminology does not reflect a social structure within or among groups upon which hierarchy could be built. In this system, lineage takes a privileged position over alliance. Kinship terminology and practise in Turkey, following an Inner Asian model, indicates quite a different historical pattern: an articulation of society into distinctive and well-demarcated clans of superiors (Ibid. 123p; Lindholm 1986, 343). This probably differentiated kinship terminology and kinship reality from the rest of Europe in pre-industrial times. 44 Patriarchy after Patriarchy

Kinship Terminology among the Peoples of Eurasia Minor

Kinship terminology and kinship organization of Eurasia Minor is different by its patrilineal structure and bifurcated-collateral or mixed terminology as compared to the conjugal, lineal system of most of Europe, emerging since the early Medieval Age, and most of the Near East. Turkish and Albanian terminology is bifurcated-collateral, the Slavic and Greek continental terminologies are of the mixed type. Terms for aunts and uncles, nieces and nephews of paternal and maternal sides in the Balkan languages and in Turkish reflect this structure (Table 6).

Table 6: Kinship Terminology in Balkan and Turkish Languages

Uncle (m) Uncle (f) Aunt (m) Aunt (f) Nephew (m) Nephew (f) Niece (m) Niece (f) Serb. stric ujak tetka tetka bratiü sestriü bratiüin sestriüina Bosn. amidža daidža tetka tetka bratiü sestriü bratiüina sestriüina Maced. þiþko vujko tetka tetka vnuk sestra vnuka sestra Bulg. þiþo vujþo lelja lelja bratov sin sestrin sin bratova sestrina dăšterja dăšterja Alb. mixhë dajë hallë teze nip nip mbesë mbesë Turk. Emme dayı hala amme ye÷en ye÷en ye÷en ye÷en Source: Kaser 1995, 173

Turkish kinship terminology does not correspond consistently to the structure of kinship roles. The situation is complicated by the use of the standard Turkish terms as they are current in Istanbul, in the villages, with only relatively minor variations of dialect and usage (Stirling 1965, 148). What is most striking is the complete merging of the brother and sister’s children into one term (ye÷en). This can be interpreted as a weakening of patrilineal ties. There are similarities but also differences between Turkish and Kurdish kinship terminologies. Kurdish terminology is close to the Near Eastern pattern: (1) Kurds do differentiate between elder and younger siblings, but this is not reflected in terminology, as it is in Turkish a÷abey (elder brother) and abla (elder sister). (2) There is no single generalized term for sibling in Kurdish as the Turkish word kardeú. The terms for male and female siblings are mutually exclusive in Kurdish. Similarly, the general term ye÷en, which is used in Turkish for a sibling’s son or daughter, is differentiated in Kurdish. Not only the sibling’s gender but also that of the offspring is taken into account. This is closely related to the principle of claiming membership and inheritance according to the patriline among the Kurds. (3) The terminologies differ from each other for affines. The distinction in Kurdish between father-brother-wife and mother- Patriarchy in Power 45 brother-wife is again consistent with the patrilineal system of the Near East (Yalçin-Heckmann 1991, 197). Among the continental Greeks, kinship terminology was of the mixed type – at least in certain regions. This was the case, for instance, among the Greeks of the Black Sea region and in Thrace. In the Black Sea region, a distinction was made between the father’s brother and the mother’s brother; while both the father and mother’s sister were terminologically merged. Patrilineal descent organization, patrilocal marriage, and perhaps the influences of Turkish kinship terminology may have caused this divergence from the dominant terminology in Mediterranean Greece (Karachristos 2004, 304pp.). Mixed kinship terminology was also found among the Greek population in Thrace, where the terminological distinction between the two uncles is even clearer. This is reflected in the practise of patrilocal marriage, as well as by the inheritance system. A person was allowed to inherit the father’s brother’s property but not that of the mother’s brother (Ibid. 306). An obvious analogy of Eurasia Minor’s terminology is its reflection of birth order. This leads to the merging of generational differences. In most of the languages, the terms for niece/nephew and grandson/granddaughter are ho- monymous. This merging originates in the equal quality of two relatives independent of generation. In Turkish, where there is only one term for niece/ nephew, the grandchildren are terminologically differentiated, but there exists also only one term for them (torun). The languages of Eurasia Minor differentiate between brother/elder brother and sister/elder sister: in Bulgarian bate (elder brother) and brat (brother), kaka (elder sister) and sestra (sister); in Al- banian bacë (elder brother) and vëlla (brother), dadë (elder sister) and motër (sister) (Kaser 1995, 174). In Thrace, among the Greek population, apart from a few local exceptions, a terminological merging of members of different generations took place. The term tsitsis means either father’s elder brother or elder son. The lack of distinction between elder brother and elder son can be explained by the rule of succession in case of the father’s death; one of them would take his place as head of the household. Similarly, tsatsa and kakou designated the elder sister, the father’s sister, or the mother’s sister. In absence or death, the elder sister replaced her mother. This was also the case among the Greeks along the Black Sea (Karachristos 2004, 306). A further characteristic of Eurasia’s Minor languages is the differentiation of parallel and cross cousins. Turkish differentiates exactly between sons and daughters of father’s sisters and mother’s sisters (see Table 6). Another similarity is the sex of the speaker: depending on the sex of the speaker, a certain relative must be addressed in different forms. The parents-in-law of the wife are termed differently than the parents-in-law of the husband. Generally, terminology is semantically very similar in these languages (Kaser 1995, 174p.). Romanian terminology, however, differs significantly from that of Eurasia Minor. Kinship was reckoned bilaterally and branched out from one’s go- 46 Patriarchy after Patriarchy spodârie (household) to increasingly distant relatives (Kideckel 1993, 43). Nevertheless, inheritance practise excluded wives and daughters, and post- marital residence was virilocal (Kaser 2000, 164p.). Beyond gospodârie comes the fâmiliâ comprising one’s gospodârie and those of married siblings. Sepa- rated families formed the rudâ – bilateral kindred –, which included all relatives within memory and is bifurcated into blood relatives and affines. Rude repeatedly brought together individuals at village social events: Christmas car- olling, visiting, reciprocal labour groups and rites of passage (Kideckel 1993, 43). Interesting specifics can be observed in regions where tribal organization was pronounced such as in the Western Balkans, especially in Montenegro and Northern Albania. Thus, for instance, male cousins generally were addressed as brothers. This reflects the verticality of kinship organization; horizontal differentiation is of less importance. Friends become incorporated into the kinship group by calling them brothers. Terminologically then, the “brother” is differentiated from the “born brother”. Kinship by marriage is neither acknowledged nor devaluated; collateral kin were called friends. The difference of importance between male and female lines is expressed by terms as “blood line” or “thick line” (male) and “milk line” or “thin line” (female). If language reflects social reality – and there can be no doubt about this – patriarchal kinship organization of Eurasia Minor (except Romania) is distinctive and different from that of the rest of Europe and the rest of the Middle East. We can speculate whether this was the result of the influence of the Turkish kinship organization over the continental Balkan populations, or whether this kind of kinship organization already existed before the Ottoman conquest.

The Patrilineal Descent Group

As mentioned above, the patrilineal kinship group of Eurasia Minor differs from the patrilineal kinship group of the Near East and the conjugal kinship group of most of Europe, in multiple aspects. The differences with the Near East system lay in its hierarchal structure and its avoidance of parallel cousin- marriage. The differences with the conjugal kinship-system are even more pronounced: (1) The conjugal system is ego-focused; the kinship lines stretch from an individual into two directions – the blood kin and the married kin; it focuses on horizontal relations. A patrilineal system is vertically oriented; kinship is based on membership of patrilineal descent. (2) The composition of the conjugal kinship group is unique for almost every individual. (3) A conjugal kinship system provides means to easily expand a network of kin by marriage. A patrilineal descent-system is closed; marriage does not extend the network of kin; this can only be achieved by the establishment of spiritual kinship-relations with members of other descent groups. (4) Patrilineal kinship organization is Patriarchy in Power 47 usually male-biased. A conjugal system is usually open to various residence choices, which include uxorilocality as well as neolocality. (5) Unilineal descent groups are usually corporative units; their members share certain economic and non-economic rights as well as usufructs over generations (Kaser 1995, 176pp.). (6) Patrilineal descent groups were not created and supported by Islam and Christianity – quite the contrary. As we will see, both religions op- pose descent ideology. Judaism however, tends towards the affirmation of the patriline. Patrilineal descent groups in Europe and the Middle East exist despite religious affiliation, which point at their pre-Christian and pre-Muslim origins. Historically, the patrilineal descent group could take on different forms: (1) Territorially defined descent groups. Ethnographic literature usually defines these as “tribes” or “tribal states”. This term will be – in view of the lack of alternative terms – applied also here but under the explicit notion that this does not imply any negative connotations, as for instance primitivism. Tribal societies of this kind can typically be found on the peripheries of the Ottoman Em- pire in the 19th and early 20th centuries. The preceding centuries generally lack documentary evidence. The mountainous regions that provide appropriate conditions are the Dinaric mountains in the West, the Caucasus in the East, and the Anatolian Plateau in the Southeast. In North Albania, Montenegro, and East Herzegovina, tribal organization e- merged. This similarity in social structure of the Montenegrins and Albanians provides an important insight into the ways in which western Balkan societies have been structured. There were some thirty named Montenegrin tribes (ple- me) in the second half of the 19th century, and more than sixty identified Alba- nian tribes (fis) at the beginning of the 20th century (Durham 1928, 13-52; Seiner 1922). Recent historical investigations reveal that both the Montenegrin and the Albanian tribes emerged during and after the Ottoman conquest and were not the direct continuation of older tribal structures (Kaser 1992, 146- 152). Political authority in these regions was concentrated at the tribal level. The position of the chieftain was an official rank; its competences were fixed and its authority stressed. The tribal heads were provided with military titles by the Ottoman administration; in case of the Albanian tribes, the heads possessed the rank of a bairaktar, Montenegrin heads with the rank of a serdar – functions that could be integrated into the Ottoman army structure. Depending on the numerical size of a tribe (men able to carry weapons), the bairaktar com- manded one tribe or several smaller ones. If he was called to war by the Otto- man military administration, he carried the flag of his military unit and was its commander-in-chief (Kaser 1995, 235-238; Hann 1995, 94pp.). This position tended to remain within a certain family or lineage. In both regions, lineages controlled defined territories of summer and winter pastures recognized by common law. This extraordinary status made these units immune to the efforts of the modern state to destroy these self-governing units. In Northern Albania, having survived almost a half-century of oppressive socialist rule, most of the traditional patrilineages and their territories still exist today, despite having lost 48 Patriarchy after Patriarchy political power and other important socio-political functions (Kaser 1992, 179- 202). Tribes here were not tribes in the sense that each tribe would speak a separate language (their languages were either Albanian or Slavic); they were constituted of descent groups or an agglomeration of descent groups. Marriage exogamy, therefore, was practised between tribes if the tribe and the patrilineal descent group were identical, but also between the different descent groups of a tribal confederation. In other words, marriage would be contracted between different descent groups of a tribe. Each tribe was administrated by simple bodies mostly consisting of a head, a council of the eldest, and the general tribal assembly, which consisted of all household heads of the respective unit. The bigger a tribe or a tribal confederation, the more complex was its administration. Before states began to integrate these remote regions into their institutional structures in the course of the 19th and 20th centuries, no acknowledged institutional bodies existed beyond the level of the tribe. Therefore, conflicts on the borders of tribal territories easily escalated to wars (Kaser 1995, 233p.). (2) Descent groups based on nomadism. The situation was different, for instance, on the south-eastern fringes of the Ottoman Empire, where the geographical conditions of long-distance herding and the loose integration into the Ottoman Empire enabled the establishment of Kurdish political configurations that were somewhere in between a formal state, called “emirate”, and a tribal territory such as in the Western Balkans. Trappings of the state existed in the Kurdish populated areas until the mid-nineteenth century. These emirates consisted of a number of tribes held in check and balanced against each other by a ruling dynasty with its own military and bureaucratic apparatus. They seem to represent a stage in between chiefdom and the full-blown state. The last emirates were deliberately, by military force, destroyed by the Ottoman state, in the course of its process of administrative reform in the 19th century (Bruinessen 1992, 133). Both functioning and internal organization of the nomadic tribes were very much influenced by external factors, most significantly, states. The impact of the neighbouring state on the petrification of these tribal emirates was crucial. At times, tribes were armed and given military duties by states, which could not affect the internal organization. In a certain sense, the tribes may even be seen as creations of the state. In many cases, the impact of the state on the tribes was less direct, though not necessarily less pervasive. Most Kurdish tribes always remained on the periphery of large states, thereby maintaining a degree of political independence. For most of its history, mountainous Kurdish occupied nomadic territory was in fact a buffer between two or more neighbouring states, which gave the Kurdish tribesmen more leverage. In the 15th and 16th centuries, two strong multi-ethnic states emerged in the region: the Ottoman and Persian Empires. The major confrontations of these two states took place in the Kurdish populated regions; Kurdish tribes and chieftains played an impor- Patriarchy in Power 49 tant role therein. The Ottoman Empire incorporated the greater part by winning the loyalty of local Kurdish rulers. The Ottomans established indirect rule over the Kurdish emirates such as over Hakkari, nowadays a province in south- eastern Turkey. Their leaders ruled over a territory consisting of the present Turkish provinces of Hakkari and Van, and stretching south into Northern Iraq. Since 1534, Hakkari nominally belonged to the Ottoman Empire, being subordinated to the Ottoman governor of Van; de facto, it was independent. Gener- ally, some districts, the most inaccessible ones, were left fully autonomous. Their rulers were given official diplomas of investiture, but the state did not try to intervene in their succession. The position was hereditary, and the selection of the actual successor was left to the local population. These autonomous districts owed neither tribute to the central treasury nor regular military service in the Ottoman army; none of their land was made into timars or ziamets (fiefs at certain income). It seems that until the 19th century, the Ottoman officials largely stuck to this arrangement. The increasingly interventionist Ottoman state destroyed the emirates left in Kurdish regions by the middle of the 19th century (Ibid. 134-137, 147-150, 158p., 176). This kind of integration was characteristic for a tributary state like the Ottoman Empire. It left the social structure as it was, integrated the tribes on the peripheries insofar as a certain kind of tribute in the form of military service was lev- ied (or even no tributes). At the same time, this kind of integration petrified the given structure; both sides were satisfied with the situation. The Ottoman Em- pire did not establish this kind of tribal structure deliberately, but – over centuries – did nothing to integrate the Dinaric and Kurdish mountainous societies more formally into its administrative structure. (3) The descent group in the plain. Many of the mountainous patrilineal descent groups, deliberately or by force, settled permanently in the plains, mostly in the 19th and 20th centuries. This process resulted in the weakening of the social and ideological coherence of the lineage structure. A lineage may have established a common village, but in practical terms and over the course of generations, the village lost the consciousness of common ancestorship and segmented into mahalle (quarter of a village or town). The components of the patrilineage may have or were forced by the administration to split their residences into various villages; subgroups of other lineages may have joined them; a former descent group may have lost consciousness of its common origins generations before. These may have been causes for the territorial segmentation of descent groups that had been compact hitherto in geographical terms. Forced emigration as results of wars led to the establishment of thousands of new villages in Anato- lia with families of different geographical and genealogical origins; they were mixed up with the descent-villages. Thus, the most frequent Balkan and Anato- lian type of cohesion of descent became the formation of a mahalle. Examples have been described for both rural and central Serbia (Halpern 1956, 38p., 312- 328; Halpern 1967), for central Bulgaria (Sanders 1949, 232), for the Rhodopes 50 Patriarchy after Patriarchy

(Brunnbauer 2004, 420-423), and for Southern Albania (Kaser 2002, 163-169) for the 19th and 20th centuries. The forming of mahalles may have also occurred against the Anatolian background, where migration had much more impact on the formation of informal quarters. A settlement group begins with the building of a new house near the old one, where the number of families has increased and new families have formed through marriage so that the old house is no longer sufficient to accommodate them. With the addition of several houses, the settlement core loses its character and becomes a settlement group. The most characteristic type of settlement group is represented by a main house surrounded by three to five houses. In such a group, associations between the old and new houses can take a variety of forms. Although social structure formally prevails and the settlement group looks like a family organization, the old house seems to have lost its previous influence. Regardless of the degree of relation between members of a family, the houses built far or near each other by inhabitants who have established socioeconomic relations with one another, can be considered a mahalle. The mahalle is called after families, and its social structure is based upon family organization. Therefore, the unity of a mahalle and its boundaries remains tied to the subsistence area of a particular family group. Nevertheless, in most mahalles of Turkey, there are persons and families who have migrated from other areas and mingled with the old family groups (Tunçdilek 1974, 52-56). Stirling, who visited villages in central Anatolia around 1950, also shares this observation: each village was composed of distinct patrilineal and patrilocal households. Although several households often occupied one block of buildings, the physical and social boundaries were never vague. Every village was divided into a number of mahalles. Because close neighbours often intermar- ried and close agnates and sometimes other close kin lived near to each other, these quarters often had some kinship unity as well. The group consisted of a number of households, the heads of which were descended patrilineally i.e., strictly through males only, from a common ancestor generally three or four generations back. The main function of the lineage was the protection of its members from aggression by supporting them in quarrels (Stirling 1965, 26p.). Patrilineages used a number of important symbols that bound lineage members together. There was, for example, the common lineage name derived from the male founder and carried by each male member. The Mihajloviüi, for example, were the lineage derived from the common Serbian ancestor Mihajlo. Many lineages preserved myths of origin, orally transmitted from generation to generation, which were essentially charters of identity. Individuals from the oldest extant Balkan lineages can orally trace their ancestors some 13 and 14 generations back to the early Ottoman period. However, in such cases, even where the oral tradition is strong, one gets the names of only the directly connecting series of ancestors to the exclusion of collateral kin (Kaser 1995, 189pp., 205- 211). The feast of the patron saint thought to be the protector of the lineage, Patriarchy in Power 51 was elevated by Serbs to be a vital part of their cultural heritage. It was the most important religious feast of the year, lasting three days or longer, and held close to the calendar day of the patron saint. This event can be interpreted as a Christianized form of a pre-Christian ritual celebration of the lineage ancestor and provided the extant patrilineage with a sacred, religious identity (Kaser 1993, 93-122). This sacred identity was also reinforced by the fact that the common feast of the patron saint could also be regarded as a reminder of distant kinship even when the actual ties had been lost (Dimitrijeviü-Rufu 1998; Hammel 1968, 21; Hristov 2001; Kaser 1993, 93-122). Every household celebrated this event independently and invited affinal kin. This ritual reinforce- ment of both agnatic and affinal ties on the household level is a vital part of symbolizing the way in which these societies were constituted. Affines are symbolized here as honoured guests and by their presence reinforce the solidarity of the agnatic group. This festival also provides a way to reach out to non- kin as guests, including them in the interactive circle of primary social relationships (Halpern 1967). The patrilineal descent group was the dominating kinship organization in traditional patriarchy, except in cities. This kind of kinship organization is a response to the framework of a tributary state. Large kinship agglomerations took over all necessary functions that were important for an individual to survive. Everything circled around the male descent line, most importantly, property transfer and the transfer of honour. Its reproduction became the central task in the life of a man. A recent article, which argues against the Macedonian observations that there was no direct link between patrilineality, on the one hand, and power and authority differentials between men and women, on the other, challenged the notion that such a system clearly oppresses (Schubert 2005, 63pp.). Such an argument, of course, can only been made by singling out certain elements from the whole of a patrilineal kinship order.

Spiritual Kinship

Segmentary descent groups needed mechanisms that bridged the sharp borders between descent groups and to repair situations, when open enmity broke out, for instance after a blood feud. The peoples of Eurasia Minor developed, therefore, numerous forms of spiritual kinship – horizontal linkages crossing the borders of lineages. In the Balkans, brothership in blood and godparenthood were the most important strategies, which were sanctioned by the Christian churches. Besides, kinship by haircut or by milk, which were based in Islam, was not only practised by the Muslim but also by the Christian population of the Ottoman Empire (Kaser 1995, 257p.). Godparenthood at baptism and at marriage is of pre-Christian origin, but was adopted as a Christian ritual. According to the canonical law, godparents had to 52 Patriarchy after Patriarchy be present at marriage and at baptism – maximum one at baptism and two at marriage. Parents were excluded from being godparents at baptism, and women were excluded from godparenthood at marriage. Godparenthood at baptism created spiritual kinship, whereas godparenthood at marriage did not. Deviating from canonical law, the Christian Balkan societies extended the practises allowed by the canon by including godparents into the circle of spiritual kin. As Hammel’s seminal study (Hammel 1968) on godparenthood in the Montene- grin and Serbian context shows, agrarian society adapted canonical law to its needs: marriage between families linked through godparenthood was prohibited until the third degree of kinship. A household was allowed to provide up to five other households with godparents. Men almost exclusively took on this function. Godparenthood was used to knot dense networks of alternative relations and constituted a never-ending cycle: the godfather at baptism usually took the right to function as godfather at marriage for the baptized child and then again, as godfather for its children. Complicated kinship relations were the consequence (Ibid.). They enabled individuals to have available a discrete, identifi- able, and particular set of fictional kin different from others, and the obligations were not transferable to other agnatic kin. Orthodox Church in the early 19th century came out heavily against this practise, emphasising the importance of the “proper choice” of the godparent, the exchange of gifts, and individual baptism (Sant Cassia 1992, 160p.). In religiously mixed regions such as Herzegovina, the Christians’ networking through godparenthood could even include Muslims. In many cases, reputed Muslims were invited by Catholic and Orthodox families to act as godfathers at marriage or baptism, although this was not allowed by the canonical rules. This “problem” could be solved in two different ways: marriage was contracted in front of the Muslim kadı, or an orthodox or catholic representative of the Mus- lim godfather was present at baptism or marriage (Grandits 2006, 214). Among the Muslim population of the Balkans, haircut godparenthood was widespread. This ritual was supposed to protect the child from illness and other negative influences (Ibid. 212). This had a long tradition and was doubtless of pre-Christian and pre-Muslim origin. The designated godfather undertook the first haircut of the newly born. A big feast followed, and the father and the godfather were considered brothers from then on. Although considered a Mus- lim ritual, it was also practised by the Christian population (Kaser 1992, 263p.). Kinship by milk was initiated by the suckling of a baby by a nurse. This created kinship between the two families. Kinship by milk was generally practised in the Balkans and especially in regions with former dense Muslim population. The ritual breast-feeding used to take place on the first or third day after delivery. The idea was that the breast-feeding woman transferred her character to the newly born child. Therefore, the nurse was carefully selected. She was considered the child’s second mother, her children became brothers and sisters of the child, and they were therefore not allowed to intermarry. In the Rhodopes a- Patriarchy in Power 53 mong the Muslim population, the marriage ban was observed for up to twelve generations (Benovska-Sabkova 2001, 212p.). It had, however, different meanings for Christians and Muslims. For Christians, kinship by milk did not create a marriage prohibition between the two groups. Exceptions are reported from religiously mixed Bosnia. Among Bosnian Muslims, for instance, kinship by milk resulted in marriage prohibition for the children of the next generation. The Orthodox considered their children and the children of the nurse only as half-siblings (Kaser 1995, 258). This ritual died out in the middle of the 20th century, since the deliveries were increasingly no longer conducted at home but in hospital (Benovska-Sabkova 2001, 212). Kinship by milk was also widespread among the Muslim population in the Caucasus. Relationship could be formed in two ways: (1) by actual breast suckling; (2) by mere contact of the lips and breast of a woman. Kinship thus formed was sacred as that of consanguinity. The woman and her adopted child were excluded from intermarriage, as were the child and all those suckled by the same woman. The institution existed long before Islamization set in. It is found also among the Christian Caucasian tribes and the Armenians (Lutzbetak 1951, 55p.). In Abkhazia, this relationship was considered even stronger than a blood tie. Among the Karakaitags of Dagestan, as soon as a son was born to their ruler, the child was taken to all the villages of the tribe, from one the another, where all the women in milk allowed him to suck until he was weaned (Parkes 2003, 751p.). In the Caucasus, additional methods could establish spiritual kinship such as the kunak-relationship. This was a contract between two men of different regions, which obliged them to offer mutual hospitality and protection whenever necessary. This institution was a substitute for non-existent restaurants, inns, and hotels. Any offence committed against the guest would be avenged as if it were against one of the family (Dragadze 1984, 171p; Lutzbetak 1951, 55). Elected brotherhood (tleush) was widespread among the Caucasian Circassians. Two men took an oath among themselves and became “brothers”. Their families were not allowed to intermarry (Lutzbetak 1951, 55). For Georgia, three ancient kinds of sworn brotherhood are reported: (1) The two parties met for an oath of brotherhood, accompanied by their relations. One of them brought a sheep, a calf or other animal for sacrifice. At the same time, they swore, once or several times, brotherly loyalty and love. (2) Those who took an oath of brotherhood, usually at a wedding or other festive gathering of a large number of people, would cut the little fingers of their right hands, making the incision in such a way that the blood from both wounds mingled together. (3) The ceremony known as “Oath of Silver” was performed with food and drink; each of the participants dipped the silver part of his weapon in a vessel of wine, beer, or vodka, and uttered a ritual brotherhood oath. This relation was not limited to the two persons but extended to both families and was also used to reconcile enemies (Bardavelidze 1984, 173pp.). 54 Patriarchy after Patriarchy

In North-western Bulgaria, elected brotherhood (harizane) is practised to this day. The idea behind it is to heal chronically sick children. The most important ritual elements were: one meets the future “brother” in early morning at a crossroad; the child is entrusted to this person; later a joint meal and the exchange of gifts followed. The person was not necessarily male; it could also be an aged woman. The person became related to the family and was more appreciated than a godparent was. The establishment of this new symbolic contact was expected to have a positive effect on the child (Benovska-Sabkova 2001, 203pp.). Kivrelik is a form of ritual co-parenthood practised in Eastern Turkey and is established through the Islamic ritual of circumcision. The word kivre is not of Turkish origin; it may mean “penis”. It has no formal base in religious law. Neither kivrelik nor circumcision is mentioned in the Koran. It is known from pre-Islamic poetry that the custom of circumcision existed in early Arabia. Kivrelik may very well antedate Islam also. It is found in a large region including Eastern Turkey, the Southern Caucasus, Northern Iraq, and North-western Iran. Kurds and Georgians, whose ancestors have migrated from the East since the late 19th century, have preserved it in Western Turkey. With respect to religion, both Sunni Muslims and members of various Alevi-Shiite groups practise kivrelik. It is reported that among the Alevi (Turkish and Kurdish), this practise is especially valued. According to their tradition, the Prophet Muham- mad placed great importance on this ritual relationship when his grandsons, Hasan and Husayn, were circumcised. Therefore, they believe that the blood of the Imams (Hasan and Husayn) passes between the sponsored and the sponsor (Magnarella & Türkdo÷an 1972, 1626p.). The kivrelik involves three central elements: (1) the rite of passage associated with the circumcision of a male child (who is usually between seven and twelve years old); (2) the socio- spiritual ties established between the participants; (3) sponsorship. The kivrelik relationship has several basic characteristics. It is very much like kinship, but formed in a voluntary way. The relationship between the two families is one of trust, mutual assistance, close friendship, and respect. The rights, duties, and responsibilities between the sponsor and the child parallel those between father and son. The sponsor shares responsibility for the boy’s circumcision expenses, training, education, well-being, and marriage. In return, the boy reciprocates with the loyalty, obedience, respect, and affection he gives his own father. Peo- ple claim that it is more shameful to disobey or disrespect one’s kivre than one’s father. The incest taboo is extended to both families. While the sponsored boy may marry his father’s brother’s daughter, he may neither marry nor have sexual relations with the offspring of the sponsor (Ibid. 1628; Kudat Sertel 1971, 38-41). Spiritual kinship very often had the character of patron-client relations. This is well documented for the Caucasus (Parkes 2003, 742-752). A good example for clientelism based on godparenthood is Serbia after the so-called Second Serbian Uprising (1815) against Ottoman rule. The autonomous Principality of Patriarchy in Power 55

Serbia was established in this year and Miloš Obrenoviü was elected Prince in 1816. Hierarchical political structures emerged with Miloš on the top. In the earliest phase of his reign, a group of local leaders, responsible for local affairs, including tax collection, were the next in the hierarchy. From the very beginning, Miloš had tried to weaken the power of the local leaders in order to strengthen his own authority. He successfully established a network of godfatherhood by frequently taking over the godfatherhood at marriages and at bap- tisms, especially in the case of large households. Early Serbia can therefore be considered a patron-clientele state (Sahara 1999, 1-3). Another good example is the emerging Greek state seeking independence from the Ottoman Empire in the 1820s. Blood brotherhood and soul brotherhood had generally disappeared in Greece by the early decades of the 19th century with the decline of long enduring agnatically-based kinship groups. In addition, these institutions were examples of popular justice and they declined with the state’s increasing although slow appropriation of the monopoly of violence. The institution of koumbaria (godparenthood) appeared to have achieved a higher profile in the 19th and 20th centuries. Already in Byzantine times, koumbaria, especially in the use of non-kinsmen as baptismal sponsors, had been important as a strategy for turning the powerful into patrons. In the 1820s, Theodore Kolokotronis, the revolutionary hero, had baptised over 50 children, all of whom where named Theodorakis and often accompanied him as secretar- ies (Sant Cassia 1992, 157pp.). In summary, male-centred gender relations in pre-industrialized Eurasia Minor were deeply embedded and inscribed into the patrilineal kinship system that was firmly rooted in the countryside, where the overwhelming majority of the population lived. The patrilineal descent group was practised in different variants. Whatever the variant, the principles of kinship by descent established a clear hierarchy among men and men, and men and women: men generally ruled over women; men’s power was structured and hierarchized by genealogical distance, which positioned the group within the larger framework of a patriline and the distinct patriline within a potential confederation of patrilines. While in the Middle East, patrilineal kinship system was based on endogamy, a system which preferred parallel cousin-marriage, the patrilineal descent group of Eura- sia Minor followed the principle of exogamy, which allowed Muslims the marriage of the cross-cousin, since the mother’s kin was not considered related to the father’s kin. Middle Eastern endogamy caused strong isolation of the descent group, whereas exogamy created weak bonds beyond the “own” descent group. Although these bonds established through women were not acknowledged as kinship relations, they would be considered as a kind of friendship relation. Bonds established through women were considered fragile and therefore spiritual kinship-ties created horizontal kinship relations in addition to the given vertical bonds. Spiritual kinship was considered real kinship; it was deliberately chosen, which underlines the importance of this kind of kinship. The immediate hierarchal principles were those of generation distance and birth 56 Patriarchy after Patriarchy order. They positioned the household within the hierarchy of the patriline and structured the hierarchical order of the household and the family. The following subchapter will shed light on the characteristics of the rural as well as the urban family and household.

2. Family Forms

“Because I was an orphan no one wanted to marry me, but a marriage was arranged for me when I was 13 years of age to a man who was 22 years older than I … I was so young that I had not yet reached puberty and could not sleep with my husband having no sexual relations. He turned his back to me and I turned my back to him for two years.” (Albanian woman born about 1900) (Pritchett Post 1998, 66)

Family and kinship are not to be considered two clearly differentiated social units here. They are only separated because of analytical reasons. The whole kinship group used to be considered as family, as well as the household group. Household groups and kinship groups beyond the household had to fulfil different functions. The primary function of the kinship group was the unquestioned provision of solidarity and protection; the main task of the household was procreation and joint labour, with the latter in many cases exceeding the household level; the labour intensive work on the summer pastures is a good example. Since traditional patriarchy is based on gender and generation hierarchies, family is the location where patriarchy was practised on everyday-basis. Therefore, the history of patriarchy is to a considerable extent family history. Scholarly literature on the history of the rural and urban family has grown e- normously since the 1960s, especially on Western Europe and the Mediterra- nean. In terms of quantity, studies on the history of family forms in Eastern Europe and Russia, the Balkans, and Turkey have been much less numerous. Mostly historians and anthropologists with special focus on the 19th and early 20th centuries have intensively investigated the history of the rural family in the Balkans. For this period, our knowledge of the Turkish rural family is extremely thin, whereas information about the Istanbul family after approx. 1880 is abundant. This sub-chapter will differentiate rural and urban families, although the difference is not as clear-cut as it may seem. The majority of the cities were small and therefore the differentiation of rural and urban is vague. The subchapter will start with a European comparison of family and household structures and will proceed to the key elements of Eurasia Minor’s hierarchy construction in a patriarchal household. Special attention will be paid to property transfer from generation to generation, the universality of marriage, age at Patriarchy in Power 57 marriage, the material exchange that took place at marriage, post-marital residence, household multiplicity, and household cycle.

The Rural Family

For the period of time before about WWII, formal family structures in Europe have been roughly divided into two groups: Western and Eastern. The transition zone between both structures came into being through the establishment and extension of an interventionist agrarian system in Western and Central Europe since early medieval times. The remaining part of Europe was, according to this classification, the domain of the Eastern European family unit, exposed to tributary agrarian systems. Seen from a demographical viewpoint, this transition zone – known among scholars as the Hajnal line – stretches roughly from Trieste to St. Petersburg and continues to Finland, dividing the country into a Western and an Eastern family model. Its main differences consist in the universality of marriage, young age at marriage, the high importance of descent ideology in Eastern Europe, and the high percentage or non-married population, the relatively late age at marriage; and the low importance of descent ideology in Western Europe. Seen from the standpoint of interventionist and tributary system theories, the Northern Mediterranean had belonged to interventionist Europe once upon a time; ancient Greece as well as the Roman and Byzan- tine Empires have left their interventionist footprints here. As already mentioned, personalized relations overshadow institutionalized relations in tributary Europe. This is also the case with the Northern Mediterranean, where the early interventionist systems were substituted by tributary systems: the Ottoman Empire in the North-eastern Mediterranean as well as the Islamic-Arabian rule over Southern and Central Iberia, which took about half a millennium. How- ever, they did not change previous social relations among the indigenous population. The Roman tradition was still upright when the Christian Reconquista finally reoccupied the Iberian territories at the end of the 15th century. The focus was still on the conjugal family-relation; extensive kinship bonds did not overshadow them (Kaser 2000, 60-75). Post-Roman tributary systems in the North-western Mediterranean opened the door to two developments. On the one hand, they left the Roman family law intact and, on the other hand, re- established personalized social relations in the form of patron-clientele relationships. These were already deep-rooted in early Roman history, lost importance in times of the Roman interventionist state, and were revitalized when the stable institutions vanished. Patron-clientele relationships transcended family and kinship bonds and included friends as well as godparents. The typical representative of this male-focused society was not the patriarch, but the macho: the first had almost universal power over family members, whereas the latter demonstrated virility in the public sphere. Yet his family-internal power was very limited, because, for instance, he had to share property with his wife. 58 Patriarchy after Patriarchy

Tributary systems constituted the “realm” of patriarchal structures in regions, where Greek-Roman continuity of law was absent or had vanished. This pre- industrialized tributary Europe was not only marked by a high density of patrilineal descent groups but also by family forms that transcended the borders of a conjugal unit or a nuclear family. Such conglomerations of several conjugal units, very often comprising more than ten or twenty family members (or even more) are usually called “multiple”, “complex”, or “joint” families (here the term multiple will be used). Such family complexes generally split after one or more generations into nuclear families in order to start building multiple structures anew. Whereas in a tributary environment the vertically structured patrilineal descent group, complemented by horizontal forms of spiritual kinship, constituted the outer circle of solidarity and security, the family confederation of conjugal units functioned as an inner circle, where sentiments of solidarity and cooperativeness were even more strongly expressed. In Western Europe, the nuclear structure of the rural family with its conjugal husband-wife-focus was established by the landlord’s intervention since early medieval times; the rural household in many cases was complemented by mostly non-related farmhands and co-residing “guests”; age at marriage was high, and age difference between husband and wife was almost irrelevant (Mit- terauer 2003, 70pp; Laslett1977, 12-49). Intervention also organized retirement regulations anew, which broke with the principle of seniority. The elderly generation had to resign when exceeding an economically active age in order to give way to the next generation. After passing the farmstead to the younger generation, the two generations remained a joined household, usually under the command of a married son. The younger generation had to take care of the elder. Practically, the feudal lord decided the timing of succession. This right and power of intervention had additional far-reaching implications on the family constitution; for instance on inheritance. The lords usually enforced single inheritance to one heir in order to secure the economic and fiscal efficiency of the farmstead. The transfer to more than one heir would endanger its capacity to pay taxes and other tributes. The feudal lord tended to keep the farmstead unit – as terra unius familiae – together. He usually appointed the economically most efficient son as successor and had even the right to appoint a married daughter or an extramarital successor. The decisive criterion was not kinship but economic efficiency. The most important characteristics of the West- ern family were the weakening of descent ideology and the high degree of independence of the individual from kinship bonds (Mitterauer 2003, 76pp.). For Greece, Italy, and Iberia, sufficient evidence indicates that nuclear family households had predominated in the southern, maritime regions with its Ro- man-Byzantine legal continuity, whereas more multiple forms – accounting for 20% to over 50% of all households – appeared to have been typical for the adjacent northern territories in the pre-industrial era. Marriage patterns were different in Southern and Northern Spain as well as in Southern and Northern Portugal. In the South, women married at 20-21 years of age, and men ap- Patriarchy in Power 59 proximately at 27, whereas in the North, female age at marriage was in their late twenties and male age at marriage in their late twenties and early thirties. In the South, partible inheritance had been the norm and post-marital residence had been overwhelmingly neolocal; nuclear families had consequently prevailed (Viazzo 2004, 141p; Kaser 2000, 32-48). In Western and Mediterranean Europe, the integration of the family into extensive kinship bonds was weak. In Mediterranean Europe, marriage was universal, in Western Europe by far not; age at marriage in Mediterranean Europe was low, in Western Europe high. Inheritance in the Mediterranean was transferred to male and female lines, whereas in Western Europe, a male focus was pronounced; residence after marriage was up to personal decisions, except for those who took over property; they were obliged to take care of the senior generation. The principles of family formation in Eurasia Minor were closer to the Mediterranean and Middle Eastern patterns than to Western European rules. This is expressed by the universality of marriage, age at marriage, marriage arrangements, household multiplicity and household cycle, patrilineality, and patrilineal property transfer.

The Universality of Marriage

The universality of marriage in combination with young age at marriage and post-marital patrilocal residence belong to the cornerstones of Eurasia Minor’s pre-industrial patriarchal family. It meant that neither sons nor daughters escaped marriage and patriarchal control; the sons remained under the father’s control while the daughters were put under the observance of another patriarch. Universality of marriage belonged to the canon of methods that secured the functioning of the patriarchal rule since the succeeding generation remained as a whole under the absolute control of the elder generation. One of the decisive differences between the Western marriage pattern and the rest of the world was its non-universality of marriage. This practise was not only observed in West- ern Europe, but also in European settlements overseas, in Iberian America, and the Caribbean. Universality of marriage was practised in most of the pre- industrialized world. In China, there were hardly any unmarried women by 1929-31 above the age of 34 (0.0-0.1%), and about 6% of males had not married by the age of 40. In Taiwan in 1915 and Korea in 1925, respectively, 9.5 and 1% of women were unmarried by the age of 45-49; in Japan in 1925, the figure was 2% for men and women (Therborn 2006, 139p.). The universality of marriage in the countries of Eurasia Minor is documented by Table 7, which reflects the percentage of unmarried men and women at the age of 45-49 at about 1900. Whereas the percentage of unmarried men and women in countries such as Austria, France, and Norway was relatively high, the percentage was marginal in the countries of Eurasia Minor. In agrarian- 60 Patriarchy after Patriarchy animal breeding regions such as the Rhodopes, the percentage of unmarried men and women was practically zero.

Table 7: Unmarried Men and Women at the Age of 45 to 49 (in per cent around 1900)

Country Men Women Austria 11 13 France 11 12 Norway 11 18 Portugal 14 20 Greece 9 4 Romania 5 3 Bosnia-Herzegovina 6 2 Serbia 3 1 Bulgaria 3 1 Rhodopes (Bulgarians) 1 0 Rhodopes (Pomaks) 0 0 Source: Kaser 1995, 150p; Brunnbauer 2004b, 358

Age at Marriage

Another means of patriarchal control was low age at marriage. The earlier the marriage the lower the chance for the development of individuality of men and women and the lower the opportunity for pre-marital sex, which could, in case of becoming public, cause considerable turbulence for all who were involved in such a case (not only the sexual partners but also both kinship parties). In Wes- tern Europe, women in rural areas married on average in the middle of their twenties, from the medieval ages. At age between 25 and 30, almost half of the women were still unmarried, whereas in Eastern Europe and in the Balkans, practically no woman was unmarried at this age. This resulted in a phase of more or less uncontrolled sexual life for men and women in Western Europe (Kaser 1992, 253p; Kaser 2000, 216p.). The age at marriage at approx. 1900, divided the world into those who experienced youth and those who bypassed it. Creole America, Western Europe, and the North American and Oceanian off- shoots of Western Europe differed starkly from the rest of the world. In the latter, marriage was the central status of adulthood, into which every normal person was expected to enter. Girls had no youth in Southern Asia, in some parts of China, and in large parts of Western Asia, the Balkans, and Africa. In some regions, they were married off before reaching puberty. In most of Asia and Africa, girls were married in their teens, if not earlier (Therborn 2006, 160p.). Patriarchy in Power 61

There is abundant ethnographic evidence on the early age at marriage in the Balkans and Anatolia. From Montenegro, an average age at marriage of 16 for men and of 13 for women is reported for the 19th century. Children’s engagement was practised as well as children’s marriage before maturity. In such cases, the young bride had to sleep in the bed of her mother-in-law until she matured. Similar reports come from the Caucasus (Lutzbetak1951, 77-80). Among the Armenian population of the Ottoman Empire, marriages were not only arranged, but they might had been arranged before the birth of a child or while the child was still an infant. This type of marriage occurred if parents were close friends, which desired their children might marry (Mazian 1983, 23). In the decades 1834-1884, in the village of Çukur, about 50 kilometres north-west from Kayseri, Central Anatolia – the population was mixed Orthodox-Muslim – most women were married at the age of sixteen. Male age at marriage was 24/25 (Renieri 2002, 495, 500). From Albania, there is evidence of female age at marriage being between 16 and 20 and male age at marriage of between 20 and 23 (Kaser 1992, 254). Male age at marriage could be higher in regions where labour migration was practised. In the village of Dikanca, for instance, the average age at marriage of the male population was 30-32 in the early 20th century. The village is located in the region of Dibra (Macedonia), where up to 69% of working-age men were in labour migration at this time (Gruber & Pich- ler 2002, 361). The Albanian census of 1918 reveals a significant difference at age of marriage between men and women: a female age at marriage of about 17.5 and a male age at marriage of about 27 (Kera 2003, 25). In the Rhodopes, age at marriage was low, too. For Pomak women, an age at marriage of 12 years and for men an age at marriage of below 20 for the beginning of the 20th century is recorded. According to statistical evidence from the Pomak village of Vladikovo, in the period 1896-1910, men’s average age at marriage was 17.87 and women’s 16.65. After WWI, the average age at marriage of men increased since they used to marry after obligatory military service. Low female age at marriage used to continue. For around 1930, the marriage of young women at age of 12 is reported. Among the Christian population, age at marriage was remarkably higher. In Široka lakă, it was only at the age of 27 that more men were married than were unmarried in 1877. Among women at age of 21, more were married than were unmarried. The results of examination of the registers in the villages of ýepelare and Stojkite in 1880 are similar: the average age at marriage for men was between 25 and 27 and between 19 and 20 for women (Brunnbauer 2004b, 349pp.). In the neighbouring Pirin region, women would marry usually between the ages of 16 and 22 and men between 18 and 25. In poorer regions, men’s marriage would be delayed, and the age at marriage would rise to 25-30 (Todorova 1993, 41). The Serbian census taken in 1863 reflects a similar situation. Table 8 suggests that at the age of 24, half of the male population and 80% of the female population were already married. At the age of 34, practically all women were married. 62 Patriarchy after Patriarchy

Table 8: Married Men and Women of Rural Serbia According to Age Groups (in per cent), 1863

Age group male female 15-19 5.16 13.08 20-24 50.15 80.30 25-29 80.09 97.87 30-34 89.99 99.35 35-39 93.67 99.79 40-44 95.77 99.43 45-49 94.54 99.59 Source: Kaser 1995, 152

The average age at marriage remained practically stable for the period of seven decades, as the example of average age at marriage in the central Serbian village of Orašac in the period between 1870 and 1839 documents (Table 9).

Table 9: Average Age at Marriage, Female Population of Orašac, 1870-1939

Decade Average Age at Marriage 1870-79 21.0 1880-89 21.5 1890-99 20.5 1900-09 21.0 1910-19 22.5 1920-29 22.8 1930-39 20.9 Source: Kaser 1995, 155

The earliest reliable statistical evidence about age at first marriage in Turkey stems from the 1935 national census. In rural areas, it was 19 for women and 22 for men. The relatively high female age at marriage is probably based on misreporting the actual age at marriage. This scepticism is reinforced by ethnographic inquiries, which report an age at first marriage of ca. 14-18 for females and 16-22 for males (Duben 1985, 90). Age at first marriage in the predominantly Kurdish-populated south-eastern Turkish region of Hakkari around 1990 had already become a question of household strategy (labour force, replacing outgoing with incoming women), profession, and education. The age at first marriage of women was between 13 and 22 in villages and 16 and 23-24 in cities. Many male villagers married at the age of 15-16 and before 18 (military service) (Yalçin-Heckmann 1991, 214p.). Patriarchy in Power 63

One can speculate as to why age at marriage was relatively high in Western Europe and relatively low in the regions of Eurasia Minor – and in the rest of the world. The primary reason for late marriage in Western Europe was the high number of life-cycle servants. A similar system of life-cycle servants did exist neither in Eurasia Minor, nor in other regions of the world. One reason for low age at marriage has been already mentioned: patriarchal control. Another reason might have been the high value of virginity in a world of deeply rooted patriarchy. Low age at marriage, especially of women, helped to avoid the danger of pre-marital sexual relations, the loss of virginity, and the eventual birth of extra-marital children. Low age at marriage excluded a period of youth, when teens and young people of both sexes passed through a period of life where they socialized outside the household they were born in, and looked for an eventual future marriage partner for themselves. In a society where the control of female sexuality was strongly linked to the honour of the family, a daughter’s early marriage was a safe strategy to follow (Duben & Behar 1991, 74; Gates & Hendricks 2004).

Marriage Arrangements

In rural Eurasia Minor, marriage arrangements typically included three important components: (1) the post-marital residence was patrilocal; (2) the exchange of goods was asymmetrical: the groom’s group paid money or goods to the family of the bride; (3) the out-marrying daughter neither received any inheritance portion nor any dowry; she brought only a trousseau into marriage, which was not related to the substance of her group’s household. (1) Patrilineality went hand in hand with post-marital patrilocal residence as a rule, except among the Romanian population, where the tradition of Roman family law was still alive and virilocality was the rule (Kaser 2000, 194). The reason for patrilocality was simple: only the agnatic group had property rights for mobile and immobile goods. Therefore, the bride had to move to the groom’s father’s residence; only in this way the groom could keep his share on the joint male property; he could not mix his share of the agnatic property with the property of another patriline. This customary regulation decisively weakened the position of the bride. She had to leave her sphere of socialization; she was only fully accepted by her groom’s household when she gave birth to a male child. Since she was not endowed, she could have been sent back to her father’s household in case she failed (Ibid. 194p.). Evidence of patrilocality in the Balkans as well as in Eastern Europe is abundant. Patrilocality was practised also on the larger islands of the Aegean such as Cyprus and Crete, and continental Greece (Ibid. 195p; Grandits 2006, 133; Toundassakis 1998, 144) as well as in the Caucasus (Lutzbetak 1951, 125, 192pp; Magnarella 1972, 363p.), Anatolia (Duben & Behar 1991, 73; Magnarella 1972, 363p.), and in 64 Patriarchy after Patriarchy the Middle East (Moghadam 2003, 125; Lindholm 1996, 55). Seasonal labour migration, however, could result in neolocality as among the Orthodox population in the Rhodopes, where in the second half of the 19th century most of the Christians were already labour migrants and herding hands. Labour migrants earned sufficient money for the establishment of a new residence, whereas the bride brought in the traditional trousseau – þeiz (Brunnbauer 2004b, 365p.). In cases where no son was born, property was transferred to the closest agnatic kin or to one of the daughters, who possibly would take over the social role of a son, documented for regions such as Montenegro and Northern Albania (Kaser 1992, 286; Kaser 1994; Kaser 1995, 375-383; Šarþeviü 2004; Fischer 1999, 286). Another possibility, which was considered as the ultimate way out, was the incorporation of a son-in-law. This incorporation had to follow regional customs; in most cases in the form of a formal adoption. The adopted son usually lost his name of origin, but was not allowed to take over the name of his new household. In Serbia, such a man was referred to disrespectfully as the domazet (son-in-law) and his son domazetoviü (son of the son-in-law). A Bul- garian proverb says when one was in a bad way, he was like an in-married son- in-law. Sons-in-law, therefore, were very rare; the Serbian census of 1863 reveals only two sons-in-law among a sample of 8,494 persons. In two villages in Macedonia, Veleshta (Albanian population) and Labunishta (mixed Macedo- nian-Albanian population) close to Lake Ohrid in 1961, no son-in-law was registered (Kaser 1995, 347). The Albanian census taken in 1918 registered not a single case of a son-in-law; in four northern Albanian villages shortly after WWII, no son-in-law was registered (Kera 2003, 42; Kaser 1995, 347). In the central Anatolian villages where Stirling conducted fieldwork around 1950, he could discover only two cases where a man had actually resided in his wife’s natal household. Both were refugees without kin and property in the area. The term for the men who married this way was iç-güvey, “son-in-law”, which had a decided flavour of mockery and scorn (Stirling 1965, 43). (2) Exchange of goods at marriage was asymmetric; the groom’s group paid money (or goods in equivalence) to the bride’s group, which was returned only by the bride’s personal belongings usually consisting of textiles (trousseau). This payment of money usually is referred to the term of “marriage by purchase”, which is not correct, since some exchange of goods always takes place at marriage without relating this to the derogate term of purchase. The bride was actually sold and consequently regarded as chattel. In theory, Islamic law improved the bride’s position. Mehr was a fundamental feature of the Islamic law. It consisted of a payment which devolves from the groom’s family to the bride upon marriage and in that sense may be referred to as a form of indirect dowry. From a strictly legalistic point of few, the mehr is a consequence, not the precondition of a marriage. The woman had a right to mehr if, for instance, no mehr was specified in the marriage contract, or even if she had clearly waived her right to it. The mehr is in principle due to and belongs to the wife, not to her family, and she has all rights of disposition over it, though in practise Patriarchy in Power 65 it might be used to cover part of the wedding and household formation expenses. There was traditionally no upper limit to the amount of mehr. If the amount was not specified in the marriage contract, the wife could apply to a judge who would determine an appropriate sum (Duben & Behar 1991, 114). A considerable portion of the payment had to be transferred to the bride as security in case of divorce. A portion of the payment was likewise set aside to cover the expenses of the wedding. But this was not the general practise. Among the Circassians in North-western Caucasia, up to the 19th century, the kalym was so high that the entire multiple family of the prospective groom had to share the burden. According to Circassian customary law, when a multiple family decided to split up into several units and consequently the common possessions had to be divided, a portion had first to be set aside as kalym for the unmarried sons. The higher the social rank, the higher the bride-price demanded. In 1857, the Russian Military Government decided that one third of the bride-price had to become the bride’s property as a social security reserve (Lutzbetak 1951, 82p., 89p.). In the south-eastern Turkish province of Hakkari, marriage based on a bride- price is still one of the potential kinds of marriage arrangements. Bride-price consists of a total of cash, goods, and labour exchanged over a certain period between wife-givers and wife-takers. The first sum of cash is paid at betrothal and the second at the end of negotiations to the wife-givers. Goods demanded by a leading tribal villager may include an automatic gun, a horse, and sheep, whereas town fathers request household goods and furniture. The payment of bride-price usually accompanies the trousseau from the bride’s family (çehiz), which usually includes house utensils, the bride’s own clothes, bedding and linen prepared either by herself or with paid or unpaid work by relatives or other women. The value of the çehiz does not match the bride-price (Yalçin- Heckmann 1991, 242pp.). Among the Turkish population, marriage also involved the transfer of wealth in the form of bride-price either to the bride herself as mehr or to the father of the bride as baúlık (Duben 1985, 82). Most of the Balkan empirical evidence is about the Albanian tribal territories from the 19th and beginning 20th century. The payment of bride-price was the rule. The amount of money paid differed considerably. The different levels of the bride-price indicate one of its most important functions: a way in which a bride’s father could secure an appropriate status of his daughter. The higher the bride-price he received from the groom’s household, the higher the status of the groom’s family and his out-marrying daughter (Kaser 1992, 264pp.). (3) Property transfer of mobile and immobile assets from one generation to the other in the rural, continental regions of Eurasia Minor was limited to the male members of the household; they shared equal parts, and women were excluded from transfer – regardless of the historical actors’ religious affiliation. Women were not dowered, since dowry constitutes a pre-mortal inheritance. Hitherto evidence proves that equally male inheritance was the usual practise in the 66 Patriarchy after Patriarchy

Balkan and Anatolian Ottoman Empire (Brunnbauer 2003, 185p., 189). Wo- men, therefore, did not enjoy any material security after a possible divorce except for their family of origin, which would take them back and re-marry them based on a significant lower bride-price since they had already lost their virginity (Kaser 1992, 265). Evidence for this practise is again abundant for the Balkans (Kaser 1995, 366-375; Kaser 2000, 132-141). Although modern Turk- ish legislation foresees equal inheritance portions for men and women, for instance, sedentarized Yörük population in South-eastern Turkey still in the 1970s acted against the law by excluding women from inheritance (Bates 1974, 119). This occurs also in other areas of the Republic of Turkey (Kâgitçibasi 1982, 7).

Household Complexity and Household Cycle

Almost everywhere in tributary Eurasia – the Romanian principalities or the Mediterranean constituted rare exceptions – people tended to establish multiple households, which underwent cycles of fission and fusion. This does not mean that multiple households did not exist in Western Europe and the Mediterra- nean; but no region there can look back on a multiple household system existing over a longer period. Again, ethnographic and demographic evidence for the general distribution of this kind of household cycle in Eastern Europe and in Eurasia Minor is abundant (see Kaser 1995, 29-60; Kaser 2000, 142-166). This pattern existed as long as interventionist systems began to regulate details of family life (generally not before the 20th century). Based on a disparate array of studies on different and diverged geographical regions over a long period, we can catch only a glimmer of what household size and structure were in Anatolia’s past. This patchwork of studies hardly allows generalizations. Household size was on an average moderate, ranging between 5.3 and 6.5 for the villages studied. Obviously, there has been little change or hardly any significant fluctuation in household size throughout the 19th until the middle of the 20th century. Neither is there any empirical evidence to suggest that the percentage of multiple family households ever reached much beyond 30% of the total number of households in a village at any point of time in the 19th and 20th centuries. The percentages of nuclear family households were remarkably consistent, ranging from 52% to 60%. As we shall see later, this overall picture has also been influenced by the massive immigrations from territories lost by the Ottoman Empire in Europe in the course of the 19th and beginning of the 20th century. Besides, statistical evidence from about the middle of the 20th century shows that multiple family structures were much more widespread in the eastern parts of Anatolia than in its western regions. Percent- ages of multiple family households were much lower in towns in Western Ana- tolia than they were in the area of the Eastern Black Sea (Duben 1985, 88-91; Patriarchy in Power 67

ølbars 2000). Research on family composition in three regions of the Eastern Black Sea for the years 1846/47 confirms this picture. Although only men were registered, the registers provide useful information on family and household structure. The survey comprises 3,355 households with a male population of 10,346. The proportion of multiple families was remarkable and stretched within a range between 25% and 34% of the households. The most frequent form of multiplicity was married brother(s) of the household head (McCarthy 1979, 309-314). This calculation allows us to conclude that a majority of the population experienced a multiple family constellation in certain phases of their lives, either in their youth and/or in their old age. The proportion of multiple families in the village of Çukur, about 50 kilometres northwest from Kayseri, Central Anatolia, with its mixed Orthodox-Muslim population, was beyond average. In 1884, most of the population lived in extended and multiple households. The Greek Orthodox population of the village spent a considerable portion of their lives in multiply structured families: 47.9% of the households were multiple, and 4.5% were extended in their structure (Renieri 2002, 495-500). Household composition of the Balkans is much better researched than in Ana- tolia. Research on the regional distribution of family forms based on the Alba- nian census of 1918 provides a differentiated picture. The sample consists of three city quarters (two quarters of the northern city of Shkodra, one quarter of the city of Tirana) and nine villages (four mountainous villages, four villages in the plains, and one village characterized by labour migration), together comprising 1,862 persons. In the mountainous areas, 56.6% of the population lived in extended and multiple families; in the plain and hilly areas 43.5% of the population formed multiple and extended families, and 36.2% nuclear ones. The composition of the Abdulla Bej quarter of Tirana is surprising: 47.6% multiple, 23.8% extended, and only 23.8 nuclear families. This result reflects Ti- rana’s provincial status before it became capital of Albania. The two Shkodra neighbourhoods, however, were clearly nuclear; the village characterized by labour migration was also predominantly nuclear (69.6%); only 10.9% of the families were multiple (Gruber & Pichler 2002, 355, 358p.). Multiple household composition was more widespread in the Western Balkans than in the Eastern Balkans. The reasons for different patterns in the Western and Eastern Balkans were the level of integration into the state and the modes of social networks through which households interacted. Multiple households dominated where the state was weak and the patrilineal descent group provided security – in the Western Balkans and in Central and Eastern Anatolia as well. More simple-structured households dominated in the better integrated parts of the Empire. In these regions, the village community was the primary social institution after the household, mediating between the households and the wider world. Patrilineal ideology was replaced by a greater stress on bilateral relations, as well as territorial proximity. The household was integrated into a reciprocal support system that included the wife’s kin as well as non-kin. The village community exerted strong control over land, especially communal land. 68 Patriarchy after Patriarchy

It decided where certain crops should be planted and what fields should lie fallow. In communities where seasonal labour migration or other market activities played a significant role, neo-local residence patterns were practised and the age at marriage was higher than usual (men had to learn a trade and collect money for the establishment of an independent household). In such places as the households of Široka lăka in the Rhodopes with its Christian population, inhabitants only rarely formed multiple households, mostly toward the end of their lives, when they remained as surviving parents with their married youngest son (Brunnbauer 2003, 192, 195-198). The traditional household formation system analyzed against the Turkish background in Anatolia was widespread also in the Balkans. In the ideal Turkish household formation-system, marriage meant the entrance of a bride (gelin) into the husband’s father’s household, the formation of a new conjugal unit (aile), and the beginning of legitimate sexual relations and biological reproduction. It did not change the residence of the husband, nor did it have any significance in terms of the transfer of rights to property, neither did it change the structure of the household (hane) as a production and consumption unit. Resi- dence was patrilocal, authority remained in the hands of the patriarch, and the young married couple had no control over the factors of production, as inheritance was delayed until the death of the household head. The estate would be divided at his death. Married brothers might live together for a short period after that, but it would be unusual for them to continue doing so for long. The division meant the break-up of the hane. The households emerging after the father’s death would have been nuclear in structure and small. Households in the past went through a series of phases as their members aged. Most individuals would have experienced a multiple household constellation until the father’s death and again in their old age, if sons were born; ideally, a nuclear family constellation was practised in between. Given plentiful land in the Balkans until the 1850s and Anatolia until the 1950s, the ecological constraints of economic limitations to supporting large numbers of people in multiple households were not very great (Duben & Behar 1991, 72-75). A reconstruction of the household cycle among the rural Armenian population in Anatolia before 1915 provides a similar picture: family fission was practised obviously only after the death of the patriarch (Mazian 1983, 19). A case study in the Bulgarian village of Govedarci in the Rila Mountains, based on field research at the end of the 1990s, revealed that in the period between WWI and WWII, economic factors for the timing of household separation became decisive. Rich households split earlier (shortly after all the brothers had been married), poor households remained together; in this case separation took place only in the grandchildren’s generation (Luleva 2001, 138-159). A large number of examples that document the family cycle in the Balkans could be added (see an overview Kaser 2000, 166-179). The pattern remains the same: patriarchal power did not allow the separation of newly married sons Patriarchy in Power 69 upon marriage. Fission usually did not take place before the death of the patriarch and until all his sons had been married. Certain circumstances could delay family fission, such as the need for close collaboration in a pastoral economy or the scarcity of land. As will be analyzed in detail in the third sub-chapter, the onset of the FDT with its rapid population increase since the second half of the 19th century, as well as the improvement of property rights had important impact on household composition and the household cycle. In the Herzegovinian village of Ogradjenik for instance, a considerable number of households comprised more than ten members in 1768. The biggest household consisted of 22 members; the average was 8.8 persons per household. The figures for the year 1867 are similar: in Veliki (Big) Ogradjenik the average was 10.1 and in Mali (Little) Ogradjenik 7.9 persons. The multiplicity of household structures and the joint economic activities of more than two couples were part of the organization of everyday family life, which did not change in the course of this century. From the 1860s and beginning 1870s, however, the cycle of fission and fusion accelerated. The number of “new houses” increased considerably. The average household size decreased to seven, six, or less members. Where there was one farmstead in former times, it was replaced in the 1860s and 1870s by small groups of households. One of the reasons was the new Ottoman legal regulations of 1856, which provided families with a better degree of property rights. This provoked an intensity of household fissions. Another reason was the beginning of a population growth, which also increased the economic pressure on the household economies; this would result in a growing number of household fissions (Grandits 2006, 171-175). In the Western Balkans, the tendency to avoid division of households in each generation was widespread, although the onset of the FDT would increase the tempo of household fission also here. In the Eastern Balkans’ (Rhodopes) population, density remained low and households could bring land under cultivation after fission, which took place usually in each generation. Sheep breeding did not necessarily result in the formation of multiple households. Men from landless or land-poor families worked as hired shepherds. The population increase caused a tremendous fragmentation of landholdings. This was not the only problem; due to the establishment of national states, borders began to cross the traditional pasture routes of the mountainous communities, which prevented large-scale sheep breeding from occurring any longer. This had an impact on family size and structure. In order to avoid further splitting of the land, the fission of the household was delayed or avoided. This led to an increase of household multiplicity (Brunnbauer 2003, 195, 200). Under these constraints, four ideal-types of life cycles of Muslim Pomaks and Orthodox populations in the central Rhodopes between the 1870s and the 1920s can be differentiated: (1) A Pomak girl is born into a simple, extended, or multiple household depending on the phase of the household development cycle at the time she was born. If she were born into a multiple household, she would probably experi- 70 Patriarchy after Patriarchy ence the establishment of an independent household by her father. As soon as possible, she would help with farming and housekeeping. One of her main tasks would be the preparation of her trousseau. At the age of about 15, her parents would choose a groom for her. She would marry and move into the household of her parents-in-law. Her first child might be born in that household, but afterwards she and her husband would leave his paternal household and establish an autonomous one. Her daughters would leave her household when they married, but her sons would bring home daughters-in-law. In old age, she would stay with her youngest son. (2) The life-course of a Pomak man was quite similar. Major differences were that he would be some 3-5 years older at marriage than his female counterpart would and would not leave his parents’ household. He usually would leave only after one of his younger brothers married and his wife had borne a child. He would die in the multiple household in which his married youngest son lived. (3) A Christian man would experience completely different household constellations throughout his lifetime. He would be born into a nuclear family, where he would also spend his youth. Once he has reached the age of 14, his father would send him to a master shepherd or artisan for vocational training. After spending about four years as an apprentice and four more years as a journey- man, he would become master artisan or shepherd. At that point, he would be allowed to marry if he already owned a house. His parents together with his master would choose his bride. After marriage, he would move into a new house with her. His daughters would leave his household immediately after marrying, while his sons may have stayed in the household for a short time after their marriages. The youngest son would probably remain in the household and take care of him and his wife in old age. (4) The life course of a Christian woman corresponds to that of a Christian man. She would also be born into a nuclear or extended household and would grow up in a simple household. She would not learn a trade, but would be prepared for the agricultural and housekeeping tasks of an adult woman and would help with the preparation of her trousseau. Shortly before reaching the age of 29, she would marry the man chosen by her parents. She would leave her parents’ household either to join her spouse in the household of his parents or in his newly established house. She would bear her children in the household of her husband. After the death of her spouse, she would be in the care of her youngest son. In some cases, she would remain alone and her children would take turns taking care of her. Thus, she experienced multiple household structures only for short periods throughout her life except for her last years when she would live with her youngest son (Brunnbauer 2002, 344-347). Patriarchy in Power 71

Patrilineality

The effects of the FDT could weaken or strengthen the power of the patriarch. His power would be weakened in the case of the acceleration of household fissions; it would be strengthened by an increase of household members caused by the population increase dating from the second half of the 19th century. Patrilineal ideology, however, survived such demographic vicissitudes for decades. Many of the multiple family structures in the Balkans and in Anatolia can be traced back to tribal lineage systems, or more generally, to large kinship agglomerations in the mountainous regions. One of the basic structures of many Eurasian pastoral societies has been an agnatic kinship ideology centred upon a named male ancestor. The coming into prominence of these lineage structures reflected a local adaptation to the absence of larger state structures. That these lineages were also functional in an upland ecology was another important con- ditioning factor. Under conditions of resettlement in valley areas, patrilineage could become synonymous with all the households of a village, or a specific part of the village. Sometimes the households of the patrilineage could be spread over several villages of the region. Another specific of patriarchy in Eurasia Minor becomes clear if we focus on kin relationships at the household level, as manifested in particular dyadic relationships in an age-specific context. This will be exemplified in the Serbian context. If we define the critical structural features of patriarchy as embodied in the father-son and brother-brother dyads then we can calculate, based on demographic data, both the frequency of these relationships and their time span. Further, one of the key factors in the decline of patriarchy and the emergence of the nuclear family is the growing predominance of the husband-wife- relationship as a counterpoint to the prevalence of agnatic ties. This approach also avoids the need to focus on household size, which can sometimes rather reflect fertility than organizational multiplicity. For the Serbian village of Orašac, central Serbia, for the years for which complete census data are available (i.e., 1863, 1928, 1958, and 1961), the frequency of the term “son” exceeded by that of “wife” for all years until 1961; “wife” was less than half as frequent. As fertility began to decline, the number of sons became almost double the number of daughters in 1928 (302 versus 171); a disparity that continued until 1961 (345 to 199). The proportionately large number of sons is due to the continuing presence of married sons. These figures document the persistence of the agnatic ideology over the course of a century despite a precipitate decline in average household size from 8.3 members (1863) to 4.5 members (1961). The persistence of the agnatic ideology, however, does conceal a tremendous structural change in multiplicity from a predominant pattern of lateral extension to one of lineal extension. The transformation is best seen in the drastic decline in the number of married brothers within households. In 1863, there 72 Patriarchy after Patriarchy were 62, compared to 32 in 1928 and 11 in 1961. At the same time, the number of grandsons approximately tripled from 56 to 165 while the population approximately doubled (from 1,083 to 2,015) (Halpern, Kaser & Wagner 1996, 430-434). Another measure indicating the persistence of patrilineal ideology is consistency in age at marriage coupled with the age patterns for childbearing. In data from Orašac, mean age at marriage for women born between 1850 and 1939 has varied from a low of 19.4 years (women born 1870-1879) to a high of 23.4 years (1890-1899). Women born between 1930 and 1939 had a mean age at marriage of 21.2 years. At the same time, mean age at first birth varied from a high of 24.9 years (women born 1850-1859) to a low of 21.3 years (women born 1910-1919). Thus, most women spent their entire adulthood in a married relationship. The continued ideological importance of sons, however, can be best demonstrated not by early births, but rather by the preponderance of males over females in last births. In Orašac, males account for 60% of all last births to women. This would seem to indicate the tendency to try once again for another son after the birth of a daughter. More importantly, it raises questions about the social importance of mean “completed” family size as a measure of ideological concepts (Ibid.). Except for bigger cities and rural households, shaped by labour migration, and households on smaller islands of the Aegean, where neolocality or uxorilocality of residence after marriage were practised, and the Romanian lands, where virilocality was the rule, the overwhelmingly dominating pattern of (enforced) residence choice was patrilocality. Patrilocality, early and universal marriage combined with patrilineal ideology provided the patriarch with profound means of agnatic control over his offspring and their in-married wives. The stress on the agnatic line was also expressed by a system of property transfer that provided men with equal shares and excluded women systematically.

Patrilineal Property Transfer

The impartible system of landed inheritance widespread in Western Europe has to be regarded within the framework of an interventionist structure with the landed feudal class willing to impose this system on their peasant families. The transition zone between interventionist and tributary Europe divides conjugally from agnatically-centred inheritance systems as well as systems of impartible inheritance from those with equally partible male inheritance (Kaser 2002b). Inheritance in most of the Mediterranean areas was bilaterally oriented. The tendency to provide the children of both sexes with inheritances has a long tradition, having its roots in the inheritance laws of the Roman and Byzantine Empires. This principle of equality of inheritance for both sexes was neither present in every region at all times nor equally distributed in all social strata. Patriarchy in Power 73

On the smaller Aegean islands e.g., women were privileged in property transfer. The principle of descent as a factor regulating inheritance was absent. The conjugal couple was the primary social unit, inheritance followed both the male and female lines, and dowry was significant. In southern Italy, dowry in many cases also included a house and land (Ibid.). In contrast, in the Western Balkans, where tribal societies and patrilineages were widespread, the agnatic character of property transfer and the joint responsibility of the group members for the inherited property was stressed (Kaser 1995, 178-233). Relatively little is known about historical inheritance practises in Anatolia. It is useful here to differentiate between Muslim legal theory and practise. The Islamic law of inheritance, which applied to private holdings (mülk) was a highly partible system and tended to promote a great proliferation of heirs. According to Islamic law, once funeral expenses and any debts of the deceased were deducted from the estate, one third of the remainder could be disposed of by will. The remaining two thirds were to be divided a- mong various classes of heirs or sharers, who were first given their portions according to detailed and complex rules by known proportions and fixed degree, after which the remainder of the estate would go to the nearest agnates. Most of the land in the Ottoman Empire was mirî land, over which peasants only possessed usage rights that devolved from father to son in perpetuity, and for which they were obliged to pay a tax to the state or to its various intermedi- aries such as sipahis (fief holders) or âyans (local notables). Peasants theoretically were not allowed to sell, rent, or otherwise freely transfer rights to the land; neither were they free in the manner of their use of the soil. Inheritance on mirî lands followed a system, which was regulated by the state (Duben 1985, 82p.). Islamic law was not in any case applied to mirî lands, because it was in the interest of the state to prevent the proliferation of heirs, and hence the fragmentation of smallholdings. In principle, the customary system, which applied to mirî lands, was an impartible one. The first class of heirs on the list of potential heirs got the entire inheritance and excluded other heirs of a lower class from any share in the estate. Sons were first in line, but inherited property in common as a corporation. If there were no sons, daughters could inherit, but had to pay a fee for the transmission of the property. However, it appears as if the common practise, even in many areas under the influence of Islamic inheritance law, was for the estate to be divided equally among all sons upon, or soon after, the death of the patriarch (Ibid.). Inheritance practise in the tributary Ottoman Empire was agnatically oriented and based on patrilineal ideology. The corporative character of landed property of the agnatic household group was widespread in Eurasia (see overview Kaser 2002b). Theoretically, the Ottoman state prohibited the division among inheriting sons in order to keep the çiftlik’s (rented farmstead including a pair of oxen) viability. Inheriting sons were expected to cultivate the land in common. 74 Patriarchy after Patriarchy

However, even in the classical Ottoman period (from the 14th to the first half of the 16th century), when the Empire was still centralized, effective control was not given and the division of land obviously occurred frequently. It is very unlikely that better control was exercised in the 17th and 18th centuries when the Empire became increasingly decentralized. The potential negative side effects of land fragmentation were not very significant since mortality rates were high, land resources were abundant and population density was low (in the Balkans as well as in Anatolia); partitioned farmsteads could easily acquire additional land. The cultivation of wasteland was even encouraged by the administration, which hoped to increase tax-income in this way. Population growth combined with divisions of landholdings led to ever smaller farm sizes in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. In 1907, 34% of all farms in the European Ottoman Empire comprised less than 0.9 hectare and 81% less than 4.6 hectares (Brunnbauer 2003, 184, 188). With land as plentiful as it was in Anatolia in the period from the 17th to the early 20th centuries, and with boundaries as uncertain as they were, it was not difficult for sons to augment their holdings by ploughing pasture adjacent to their villages. Until the Land Distribution Commission of the early 1950s, the villagers themselves divided village land. The state did nothing but record the peasant’s declarations in a land register. From the mid-19th century on, as the population began to rise in Anatolia, there was probably a gradual process of attrition of the existing state land surrounding each village, as peasants augmented their holdings to accommodate the needs of their expanding households. The system of equal division among sons almost certainly continued as did customary rule and practise in most parts of Anatolia. The system continued despite several reform laws, which expanded the inheritance rights on mirî lands to daughters and extended such rights to other categories of relatives of the deceased. In practise, they were deprived of those rights by the more perduring forces of custom (Ibid. 83pp.). Stirling, who conducted fieldwork in central Anatolia 1949-52, made similar observations: On the death of the household head, sons of all households would be equal in wealth, possessing a small plot of land each, which they would augment as they matured and their household expanded, by purchasing or rent- ing more land. The estate would in turn be fragmented once again upon their death. The system of male partible inheritance was dependent on a low man-to- land ratio and may have functioned as a kind of economic safety valve, preventing the amassing of large estates over generations. Only a few plots of land were registered at all. Once a man was permitted to plough and work village pasture for two or three years without being turned off it, it seems generally agreed that he had established formal rights to it. Peasants very seldom registered changes, whether by inheritance or by sale. They made arrangements, which were rarely a strict application of the law of inheritance in the Civil Code: equal shares for sons and daughters and a quarter to the surviving widow. Since the daughters usually were already married off at the death of the father and the sons working at the farmstead, they shared it among them. In Patriarchy in Power 75 rare cases, if there was plenty of land and the daughter was married in the village, she would receive a share or a money payment. The problem, thus, was that Turkish law was not altogether in conformity with the agnatic structure of village society. Land was considered belonging to the patrilineal ancestors. When land was divided, traditionally each plot had to be divided to ensure an equitable division in order to avoid quarrelling. In Stirling’s time, many households already owned less than enough land to support them and supplemented their income by working as shepherds, labourers, or artisans in the villages, or by visiting towns as migrant labourers (Stirling 1925, 23pp., 27p.). Inheritance of pasture usage rights and property was also passed along the patriline (Y- alçin-Heckmann 1991, 270). Traditional household and family forms in the countryside were organized in a way that provided the household head with an optimal concentration of power. He had all household members and all household goods under his control. His actual power depended on the household constellation. If for instance, he was co-residing with two or three younger brothers, the exercise of power was more difficult than co-residing with two or three sons. The most important instruments of personal patriarchal control were the principle of age hierarchy, which ascribes power to the elder over the younger; the principle of patrilineality, which excluded women from access to the patrilineal resources and stabilized male dominance over women; the principle of early and universal marriage – in combination with the rule of patrilocality – left the next generation no option other than to get married and to begin marital life in a hierarchal household structure where generational and gender roles were already fixed. The opportunities of bargaining them were more than limited on women’s side. The situation in urban households was only somewhat different, except relatively big cities such as Bursa and Istanbul, or rapidly growing new capital cities such as Athens or Sofia.

Urban Households

Until about the mid-20th century, the rural household in its tributary context constituted the backbone of patriarchal life. It remained almost untouched in its consistency, whereas urban households increasingly gained the function of locomotives in the change of family and gender relations. Gender relations in the cities were also patriarchal; but the urban economic basis was quite different from that of the countryside, where soil inherited from the ancestors constituted the basis of patriarchy; in the city it was commerce, handicraft, and only to a small extend landed property. The patrilineal descent group lost ground in the city. We can assume, quite contrary to the countryside that in the cities the Muslim law as well as the Orthodox canon law – both provide relative favourable inheritance provisions for women – was applied more frequently. One 76 Patriarchy after Patriarchy early indicator for this assumption could be household size in the West- Anatolian city of Bursa. The average household size was only 3.65 members in the 17th century. This is very low compared to other cities of the Middle East in the course of the 20th century. High mortality rates until the 19th century may have also had an impact on this low figure, but also the practise of Muslim law of inheritance: household property was systematically divided between the sons, in few cases even ante mortem, and the sons split the household. The 17th century inventories of Bursa do not mention any case of joint household property of sons or brothers. Daughters (sisters) received dowry portions according to Muslim law (Gerber 1989, 409-418). The sources until the second half of the 19th century allow only qualitative insight into family and gender relations of Istanbul, which, then, is supported by quantitative data. Our survey begins in the 18th century, when in contrast to rigid government decrees against moral transgression, the sharia remained a more tolerant outlook as women and minorities frequented the courts in growing numbers. The primary concern of the sharia in protecting the rights of women was to preserve the family unit and maintain the moral basis of society grounded on Islamic principles. Although largely an urban phenomenon in the Ottoman Empire, veiling, segregation, and the public and private division of space aimed to ensure social peace and harmony as well as adherence to required Islamic conduct. In urban communities, working-class women carried on their active roles in otherwise male domains. The economic burden placed on their families required them to seek wage-earning jobs usually as weavers or as household servants to supplement the meagre income of their husbands. In general, Muslim society tolerated working-class women’s participation in public activities as long as they did not transgress moral norms that governed women’s social roles (Zarinebaf-Shahr 1998, 304p., 308). This does not deny the considerable power and initiative enjoyed by middle- class women within large households. Women were in charge of the daily decision-making and conflict resolution at home that extended their influence beyond the household into the neighbourhood and the community at large. Women who became more actively involved in public life during the 18th century were constantly crossing the boundaries of gendered space. Ottoman women participated in money lending, buying and selling of real estates, rent- ing of residential units, shops, and hamams (baths), and in weaving of rugs and textiles. In an increasingly crowded and cosmopolitan city like Istanbul, it was becoming more and more difficult to maintain the Islamic requirements of gender segregation. The increasing public visibility of women, on the one hand, and growing government inspection of public morality, on the other hand, made the 18th century an interesting period of constant interaction and compromise between the government’s authority and the public at large. Women were in a particularly vulnerable position since their appearance and social conduct bore special importance for the family and the community at large. From time to time, imperial edicts were issued to restrict women’s freedom of Patriarchy in Power 77 movement and their choice of fashion and clothing. For example, Muslim women were prohibited from imitating the clothing of the “infidels”, particularly their innovative accessories and headgear that would violate the requirements of “proper attire”. More specifically, Muslim women were to be prevented from wearing cloaks with large collars, long ribbons in their hair, and large kerchiefs. If they violated these restrictions, their clothes and collars were to be cut back. Many Muslim women of the middle and the lower economic status continued to wear the traditional clothing and the veil that covered them from head to toe. Upper-class women and palace women, together with non- Muslim women, showed much more freedom in their choice of style and the adoption of European fashions – a trend that would become stronger in the 19th century. A Muslim woman was distinguished from a non-Muslim by her modest clothing (i.e., head and face cover) and the use of certain colours that were officially chosen for different religions (i.e., green for Muslims) (Ibid. 308- 313). Istanbul was a multi-ethnic and multi-denomational city, consisting of various Christian, Muslim, and Jewish affiliations. Knowledge about gender relations of the Jewish Sephardim, who were expelled from Spain in 1492, is quite ela- borate. Many of them headed toward the Ottoman Empire while approx. 120,000 crossed the border and settled in Portugal. The first expellees appeared in Istanbul at the end of the summer of this year. Hardly anyone reached the shores of the Golden Horn with their nuclear family intact. According to estimates, 7,000-8,000 Jews entered the Ottoman Empire; 2,000-3,000 reached Istanbul. Another wave of migration reached Istanbul between 1536 and 1560. When the Sephardim arrived, an Ashkenazi community, expelled from the German Empire in the second half of the 15th century, was already present (Ro- zen 2002, 47pp.). We know about the Jewish demographic behaviour in the 16th century and later. Because of the constant pressure to continue the patriline, the age at marriage dropped sharply. Females became engaged in infancy and were married between the ages of 12 and 15. They had their first pregnancy at a very early age, which caused many miscarriages and deaths during or right after childbirth. This created a vicious circle; the intensified pressure led to very frequent pregnancies, which resulted in more miscarriages and premature births of ailing babies who died in infancy. Few men reached the age of 50, and few women reached the age of 40. In mid-16th -century Istanbul, the formation of a middle- class Jewish household normally began with an arranged marriage between a 13-year-old boy and a girl between the ages of 10 and 12. Parents often determined the future of their children at an earlier stage. Child marriage (especially of females) was prevalent not only in Istanbul and other Ottoman communities; it was characteristic of Jewish society in general (Ibid. 104p., 114p.). In order to guarantee the best possible security for their children, Jewish parents in Istanbul tended to arrange marriages within the family. A great problem 78 Patriarchy after Patriarchy was the possible premature death of a young bride; this meant a considerable loss to her family; they would never enjoy the capital that had been taken from the family’s male branch and invested in the welfare and prosperity of another family. This problem could be avoided by contracting a match between a girl and her cousin or her uncle from the paternal side. Then her father could give her a generous dowry to ensure her personal future, while knowing that the family assets would not be invested in perpetuating some other’s family line. Marriage at a young age and endogamy were not expressions of the influence of Muslim society or culture per se, but were based on foundations older than Islam. The supremacy of kinship as a social value, and allegiance to the paternal line of the family were part of both Jewish and Roman cultures (Ibid. 122- 127). Wealthy fathers, especially those who had no sons, would give their daughters very valuable assets with different kinds of legal status. One part of the dowry, called nikhsei zon barzel, was considered the property of the son-in-law and was controlled by him. However, it was meant to be used for the couple’s mutual benefit, and if the union was terminated by divorce or the husband’s death, the property or its value at the time of the marriage was returned to his wife. Another part of the dowry was called nikhsei melog; it was the property of the wife throughout the marriage; the husband could not sell or transfer it to someone else. This, too, was to be used for their mutual benefit. Mothers or even grandmothers from wealthy families, who had brought assets with them to their own marriages, would make similar arrangements of their own for their daughters and granddaughters, especially in the absence of a father. Another component of the dowry was the medodim, a sum of money in cash to help the young groom start a business and investment for the couple’s future. This asset remained with the groom even in the case of a divorce. An obligatory part of the marriage contract was a promise by the groom to pay his wife a sum of money if the marriage was ended by divorce or his death; this was to help ensure the wife’s economic security (Ibid. 130p.). If there was no inclusion of a clause into the marriage contract that excluded taking a second wife, there was no Jewish legal limitation on polygamy. Never- theless, polygamy was not highly regarded in Istanbul (in contrast to the countryside, see Nicholson 2006), and most men lived up to their marital commitment. No legal obstacle stood in the way of a husband who managed to persuade his first wife to agree to his taking a second spouse, in spite of his having promised not to do so. A classic situation was when a husband wanted to take a second wife because the first had not borne him any offspring. Another was when his brother died without leaving a successor. Since levirate marriage involved a financial benefit – the widow’s brother-in-law would inherit his dead brother’s property if they married – this opened the door to extortion against a widow who did not agree to marry her brother-in-law (Ibid. 141p., 146pp., 156, 161). Patriarchy in Power 79

Coming back to the Muslim population of the city around 1900, marriage and reproduction were viewed as necessary and inevitable stages in the life course. Only 2% of all women did not marry before reaching the end of their childbearing years. Only 8% and 5% of all males in 1885 and 1907, respectively, did not marry by their mid-fifties. Age at marriage was very high, both for women and for men, compared to the countryside: at the age of 20-24, 17.6% of women and 39.5% of men were still single. Marriage in Istanbul was both late and universal. For men, the age at first marriage was around 30. It was even higher than the mean age for men in Western Europe, but lower than in North-western Europe. The mean male age at marriage remained stable between 1905 and 1940 (Duben & Behar 1991, 103, 122-127). The Istanbul pattern of marriage and household formation was very distinctive; it bore little relation to that found in Anatolian Turkey, but resembles in certain respects patterns found in some of Turkey’s Mediterranean neighbours to the West. There is a longstanding tradition of uxorilocal residential preferences in Istanbul, embedded in what seems to be a much more bilateral kinship system than found in rural areas, particularly rural areas in Central and Eastern Anato- lia. In the capital, the damat, the son-in-law, had played – quite opposite to the countryside – a prestigious role. The high status of the damat was not just limited to the upper crust of society, but pervaded domestic mores in the city in general. In statistical terms, it was just as common to find patrilocal as uxorilocal multiple family households in Istanbul in the late Ottoman period. More than half of the multiple family households of 20 to 29 olds were uxorilocal in structure. The majority of resident relatives in Istanbul households were from the wife’s side of the family. Though the residential custom in Istanbul gave equal weighting to both sides of the family, the patrilocal side was increasingly viewed as a move down the social ladder, that is, with social distance from the uxorilocal model (Ibid. 69, 78p.). Over 60% of the Istanbul household heads and potential patriarchs were between 30 and 39 years at age. Although not the rule, many young couples formed a household independent of the control of their parents at marriage. Thir- ty-five per cent of all men in the 20 to 29 age group headed their own households. Only a small percentage of men setting up households at marriage were doing so with their father present in the households in which they were born and had grown up. They were largely on their own, either having succeeded to the headship of their father’s house at his death, or having set up an independent household, possibly with another relative not too much older than themselves (Ibid. 80, 83). In 1907, the mean household size was 4.2 and included both family and non- family members, such as servants. The largest household in this census year contained 27 persons. Forty-six per cent of all households had three or fewer persons in them. The average rural household at this time contained anywhere between 5.3 and 6.5 members. Only 8% of all households had the luxury of 80 Patriarchy after Patriarchy having servants. The predominant household type was the nuclear family household; 40% of all households were of that type, and they comprised 34% of the Muslim population. They had 3.6 members on the average; these where usually family members. Intergenerational extended family ties were particularly strong, even in a situation where nuclear family households predominated. These vital ties still provided services, often for childcare, that the demographically modest circumstances of most households could not otherwise afford. Only 12% of all Muslim households consisted of two or more couples. Their average size was 7.7 persons; 22% of the population lived that way. Nearly half of the households contained two generations, equally divided residentially between those organized uxorilocally and those patrilocally. Almost one person on the average in such households was a non-relative, typically a servant. Large and multiple households were most likely to be found attached to those with elite professions. Twenty-one per cent of the elite households were multiple families. One of the striking features is the very high percentage of individuals, mostly men. In 1907, 21% of all households were no family-households or individuals. Thirteen per cent of all households were solitaries, and nearly half of these were young unmarried men under the age of 30. Nearly two thirds of all Muslim household heads in 1907 were born outside the Ottoman capital (Ibid. 48-61). Not more than 5% of the men of Istanbul, and mostly the richest and most powerful functionaries, could afford polygamy. Polygamous men were usually those who owned large mansions where there was room for each wife to have a separate household. Polygamy was greatly increased by the practise of concubinage. The law allowed a man as many female slaves as he could maintain and concubinage with as many as he liked. This was a resource for both men and women. The man was freed from the trouble of dickering with in-laws over a marriage settlement and having to contend with an independent-spirited Turk- ish woman. On the woman’s part, the wife felt less of a threat to her position as mistress of the household from the slaves than from additional legal wives. A slave could bridge a childless marriage (Ibid. 87pp.). Long before Istanbul became an Ottoman city, it was a flourishing way station and market for the Caucasian slave trade. Throughout the middle Ages, slaves were purchased in the Crimea for transport to Mameluk Egypt. Some came by land, but most were carried across the Black Sea and through the Straits by the ships of the Christian city-states of Italy. The Popes issued repeated edicts a- gainst slave trade and threatened slave merchants with excommunication. Slav- ery in the Ottoman Empire had none of the debasing qualities the word con- notes to the westerner today. In the Ottoman family, the woman slave, whether concubine or kalfa (lady companion), was an accepted member of the household, to be taken care of as long as she remained in the household, and frequently, even afterwards (Davis 1986, 100). Patriarchy in Power 81

In early days of the Empire, the woman slave was often a war captive originating from Russia, Italia, Greece or the Balkans. As the Empire ceased expanding, women captives became less plentiful. By the 18th century, the slave was usually a purchased Circassian or Georgian. She may have been kidnapped in her homeland, or sold by her parents, or she may have voluntarily put herself in the hands of a slave merchant in order to get to Istanbul. Selling children was a very old practise in Circassia and Georgia. Far from having compunctions a- bout it, the parents thought they were ensuring a better future for their daughters, who might thereby enter the household of a rich pasha or even the con- fines of a palace. By the end of the 19th century, the slaves in an Ottoman household were almost wholly Circassian. After the Russian conquest of Cir- cassia in 1864 and the Circassian exodus to the Empire, the Circassian trade still went on by refugee families. By the 18th century, most of the girls were taken directly to the Esir Pazari (Slave Market), close to the Covered Bazaar in Istanbul. Since virginity was a major factor in their value, they were carefully guarded and held for two or three months after arrival to give time for a possible pregnancy to manifest itself. Slave trade was a strictly regulated business. Some highly placed Ottoman women were slave traders of a sort, buying young girls, teaching them skills, which increased their value, and, when they reached marriageable age, reselling them at a profit. The girls, in fact, were trained to take a high place in Ottoman society. In 1854, the Slave Market was closed as a concession to western pressure, but commerce in slaves went on unhindered. The Young Turks took the final step in the outlawing of slavery in 1908 (Ibid. 99-104). It is beyond doubt that the city of Istanbul practised family forms, which could be considered in their gender aspects – except for the women slaves – as far advanced compared to the rural hinterland. Similar tendencies can also be observed in the successor states of the Ottoman Empire. In Athens according to a sample of 523 marriage contracts (1788-1834) – when the later capital city Athens still was a provincial town – 63% of the brides did not receive a dowry or a house at marriage, while 19% received an entire house and 18% a part of house. Sixty-five per cent of the grooms received a house or part of a house. In other words, the predominant post-marital pattern was patrilocal at this period. The nuclear family was far from the cultural norm at least at marriage; the majority of house transmissions to both sons and daughters were explicitly linked to taking care of an elder parent. In the top strata marital residence was patrilocal and uxorilocal among the poorer Athenians. The household was usually an extended one; women received the bulk of their share of parental property as dowry at marriage, while sons received their shares as post-mortem inheritance. Athens’s pattern changed in the course of the 19th century after becoming capital of the emerging Greek state. The new model was characterized by neolocal residence, mobility of dowry goods, and massive endowment of daughters with dowry in order to support their social mobility, focussing on the nuclear family instead of relations by descent, and a strong tendency toward affinal instead of 82 Patriarchy after Patriarchy agnatic relations. Due to the concentration of Greek population in its capital, this model of family life, property transmission, and gender roles was subsequently transferred to the provinces (Sant Cassia 1992, 13-19, 34, 42pp., 145). Also in Hermoupolis, capital of the important Aegean island, Syros in the period between 1861 and 1879, nuclear family households were the dominant form, and the proportion of men who never married was about 10%. Neolocal- ity was the rule. The newlyweds established their household in a combination of resources coming from both the bride and the groom. The bride’s contribution would come from the parental family in form of a dowry which her parents or, in absence, her brother(s) were obliged to provide. It amounted to a significant percentage of family property. The children had equal inheritance rights to the parental property (Hionidou 1999, 107, 415, 418). We also have some evidence of the composition of the urban household in Al- bania of 1918 – a country that was hardly urbanized at that time. At least half of the urban households were nuclear families, about 20% extended, and only 10-18% multiple family households. Solitaries and people with no families were in almost the same number as multiple family households. In the northern city of Shkodra, the domination of nuclear families was strongest, whereas in Kruja and Tirana, Central Albania, weakest. These household structures were in clear contrast to the tribal areas of the North, where nuclear families accounted only for one third of the households, while multiple family households were dominating with 37.1%. In other rural areas, nuclear family households were also dominating and therefore similar to the urban household (Gruber 2006; Papa 2003, 41). If we take the individual as unit of investigation, in Ti- rana only 40% of the people were living in nuclear families and almost as many people (34%) in multiple family households. Religion had obviously an impact on household structure. Orthodox Christian and Muslim households had quite similar structures, Catholics were living to a much lesser degree in multiple family households – half of those of Muslims and Orthodox, respectively. Catholics were also living more frequently as solitaries and in no families. Eth- nicity too, had an impact on household structures: Slavs and Roma were living more often in nuclear families and less often in multiple family households. Urban households also differed compared to rural ones in respect of consisting of non-relatives. At least 3.7% of the urban population was living in non- related households. The majority of them were servants, both male and female. Only 8.9% of the urban households had servants. Six households (in Tirana and Elbasan) had more than 10 servants. Sons were losing their fathers rather early: at the age of fifteen, half of them still had a father (three fourth still a mother). At the age of 50, a fifth of all urban men were still living together with a brother in the same household. Women ended their joint life with parents and siblings at marriage, which took place mostly around their 20th birthday. Be- cause of the high male mortality rate at the age of about 50, only 40% of the women were not yet widows. No more than 15% of the women were headed a household at any stage of their life (Gruber 2006). Patriarchy in Power 83

The matrimonial pattern of the Bulgarian urban family at the beginning of the 20th century started to undergo significant changes. It borrowed characteristics from Western European patterns, which was distinguished for its high age of consent at their first marriage, a high percentage of unmarried people, and married couple in separate households; the higher women’s education, the closer to the Western pattern. The few Bulgarian women studying in Western Europe (Germany, France, and Austria) combined with improved women’s education in the country led to a visible group of Bulgarian women intellectuals, holders of university diplomas being formed in the first decades of the 20th century. After completing their education, the majority of them contracted marriages, thus confuting traditionalists’ fears that education undermined marriage as an institution. The share of unmarried women among doctors and artists was still minimal – 31.6% and 27.8%, respectively – whereas striving for marriage was common even after 35 years of age. Compared to the matrimonial choice of the 19th century, when family and kin made the choice, for women graduates in the 20th century choice was a conscious and private act. They chose a partner outside their place of birth and they would prefer him to be their equal in education and qualification, someone with similar views and interests. Marriages of highly educated women were contracted as a result of long-lasting relationships ranging even between 3 and 8 years. Data show that educated women had two children on average, which was the result of their advanced fertility age, as well as the implementation of family planning. At the beginning of the 20th century, the Bulgarian divorce rate was only about 0.1%. In the 1920s, the highest percentage of divorced women was observed among women living in the cities (up to 0.5%). One reason was the clumsy procedure of dissolving religious marriages in clerical courts. In the majority of cases, women contracted new marriages after their divorce. The share of divorced women was considerable only among women artists and musicians (2.8% and 5.3% respectively). In the period 1900-1926, only 1.2-4.2% of the Bulgarian women remained unmarried to all age groups above 25 years of age. Low celibacy can be found among women teachers (1926-1933: 4.7%-5.4%). This could be explained by the strict requirements for teachers’ behaviour, clothing and life (Narzaska 2006, 2006). All available evidence indicates a sharp contradiction of family forms in the countryside and in the bigger cities, not so much in towns, in the period from approx. 1500 to approx. 1950. Family in the countryside was marked by the stress of agnatic, patrilineal bonds, whereas urban environment weakened these bonds along with the traditional patriarchal pattern, giving way to alternative family forms. The main means of patriarchal control in the countryside were early and universal marriage as well as patrilocal residence. In Istanbul around 1900, one identifies just the opposite: no universal marriage with one fifth of the population living as solitaries; age at marriage was extremely high (similar to Western Europe); patrilocality was rare. Uxorilocality and neolocality were the preferred arrangements, which constitute clear evidence of the newly wed couple’s independence. Instead of paying bride-price, the bride was endowed, 84 Patriarchy after Patriarchy which enabled an independent life after divorce from or death of the groom. Whereas a son-in-law in the countryside was a persona non grata, he was a person of high esteem in Istanbul. The differences between Istanbul and the rest of the country could not be more pronounced. The situation was similar in the successor states of the Ottoman Empire. The capitals (except Tirana) accumulated a significant potential for modernization, but it could not reach the countryside. One of the most important reasons was the tributary character of the state. The hitherto drawn picture of gender relations has been a static one. Maybe this reflects social reality; maybe this is caused by scarcity of the sources. This static picture becomes fluid in the second half of the 19th century, and one sees contradictory developments of conservatism and progress, which opened paths for newly defined arrangements of the relations between women and men.

3. Stability and Dynamic Change

“The Turkish woman ought to be the most enlightened, most virtuous, and most self-controlled woman in the world… She who is the source of the nation and the basis of social life can carry out her duty only if she is virtuous.” (Ata- türk) (Parla 2001, 74)

Looking at gender relations in Eurasia Minor, the period of time from approx. 1500 until about the middle of the 19th century seems to be centuries of little change; family, kinship and patriarchal relations remained stable; the demographic increase over centuries was weak and obviously did not have significant impact on household composition. It is, of course, possible that the appearances are deceptive. We know little about patriarchal relations before the 19th century and, therefore, we are forced (1) to assume that they were not so different compared to the 19th century and (2) to generalize the little empirical evidence. In any case, from the middle of the 19th century, the static picture becomes fluid. New forces appeared, brought movement into society and began to threaten traditional patriarchal relations. One of the most important of these new forces was the FDT, which began in the second half of that century. De- creasing mortality rates and stable high fertility rates led to a sharp population increase at the beginning of the 20th century – except for most parts of the Al- banian and Anatolian territories, where this process began about four decades later. People were forced to think about methods of fertility control, which possibly could include some reasoning about gender relations. Population growth forced a part of the male population, where the resources-population balance was always touch and go, into seasonal migration, a part into overseas- migration. Seasonal migration was a potential of innovation, which should not Patriarchy in Power 85 be underestimated. This could include the experience of alternatives to traditional socialization, delayed marriage, and neolocality of post-marital arrangement. The period from the middle of the 19th century until WWI brought a series of wars in the region resulting in mass migrations. People lost contact with the inherited soil of their ancestors; family members were lost or died; the number of solitaries increased, patriarchy lost part of its ground. Quantitatively, urban society did not play a significant role until the end of the period under consideration here. However, urban society produced innovations – gender relations were no exception – which were slowly channelled towards the countryside, especially into regions, which became linked to the railroad network. There were also forces of conservativism at work, which supported the further existence of traditional patriarchal relations. The rural and mountainous regions could be opened (to market relations) or closed; closedness of a region meant a tendency towards the continuation of traditional social relations. Illiteracy, especially high illiteracy among the female population, was one of the most important forces that slowed down social change. The following sections will evaluate factors that contributed to a conservative patriarchal stance and to factors that provided traditional patriarchy with decisive pushes.

Patriarchal Persistence

The natural environment had doubtless significant impact on the economic development of pre-industrial as well as on modern societies. The environment is decisive for economic activities and limits or widens the range of human occupations. In respect to the question of patriarchal structures, geographically and economically “closed” societies – these are generally mountainous societies with only few links to the outside world – tended to incorporate more deeply patriarchal configurations than “open” societies. Openness and closedness are also linked to political constellations. Mountainous societies on the fringes of political institutions were and are usually not as intensively permeated by civil and military administrations, by constitutional rights, and formal law, as the population closer to the political centre. One of the reasons was that marginalization had a severe impact on the security of the human being. Peo- ple, independently of time and space, are worried about their groups’ and their individual security. The more security was dependent on an organizational level lower than state and state-like institutions, the stronger the role of kinship bonds. The kinship group as a self-protecting organization usually did not function gender-neutrally. Security and protection were usually linked to the demonstration of courage and to the use of weapons – in most societies, this social field constituted the domain of men. This is why patriarchal structures of remote mountainous societies were more deeply rooted than those of the valleys and plains, where the state and state-like institutions were present. Eurasia Mi- 86 Patriarchy after Patriarchy nor is mountainous, and therefore attention should be paid to the mountainous environment.

Openness and Closedness

In fact, large areas of Eurasia Minor are mountainous and therefore unsuited for agricultural cultivation and permanent human settlement. Economically speaking, these regions could provide subsistence only to animal breeders (mostly sheep and goat keepers), and this only in the course of the summer season. Greece for instance, is categorized as 80% mountainous and the regions of the first and second Yugoslavia to extend of 66%. Albania is, on the average, situated 708 metres above sea level – this is twice the overall European altitude; half of Bulgaria is considered mountainous (Kaser 2002, 26). Turkey is a country of highlands with an average altitude of 1,130 metres above sea level. Eighty per cent of Anatolia is above 500 metres in height. Eastern Anato- lia is Turkey’s most mountainous region. Its average altitude varies between about 1,500 and 2,000 metres. The importance of the predominantly mountainous structure of Eurasia Minor must not be overlooked. State institutions in the past as well as in the present have considerable problems in penetrating mountainous areas, providing people with security, and taking care of the implementation of modern legislation that rules out patriarchal and customary laws. In pre-industrial times, a great portion of the region’s population lived from subsistence sheep and goat breeding or herding and selling its derivate products. Depending on the geographical environment, these societies were more or less dependent on the access to the local and regional markets. Certain geographic conditions allowed balanced animal breeding and corn production, which caused a tendency towards subsistence economy; unfavourable conditions made mountainous societies dependent on trade and markets. In the pre-industrial era, markets or consumers were scarce because the level of urban population was low except for the capitals. Aside from this, animal breeding was a dangerous business. A thriving flock produced many enemies. Success of mountainous animal breeding in pre- modern times therefore very much relied on men’s power and their skills with weapons. This mode of production resulted in many cases in pronounced patriarchal relations; but this was not necessarily the case. Mountainous societies were not uniform, although the ecological conditions could be similar. Households were integrated into different wider social and economic frameworks. Besides the extent of herding circulation, the degree of closedness and openness of mountain communities also had an impact on household organization and gender relations. It must not be overlooked that already in the 19th century, many mountainous people made their living not exclusively based on animal breeding but in combination with various trades Patriarchy in Power 87 and seasonal labour migration; this tended toward openness. Increase of seasonal labour migration was one of its results. Another strategy was to specialize in various forms of sheep breeding, which was but heavily dependent on the demand of the Ottoman market (Brunnbauer 2003, 190). The Balkans displayed a great deal of variation between openness and closedness, and very much depended on the institutional framework. Market relations and state intervention, as well as the lack thereof were important factors shaping the different ways that people attempted to make a living in the demanding ecosystems of the mountains. There is a high degree of differentiation between Balkan mountain communities depending on the wider contexts in which they were or were not integrated. Many Balkan upland communities in the 19th century had vigorous economic links with the outside world, through transhumant sheep breeding, proto-industrial textile manufacturing, seasonal labour migration, or trade. However, there were also many regions, which were less densely populated and only superficially integrated into market relations, remaining subsistence oriented. The level of integration depended on the degree of institutional penetration by the state. The state had the potential to transform ecological constraints into conditions of political economy, but its power did not reach every region. Where the institutions of the state functioned properly, security was not much of a problem, whereas in notoriously insecure regions, economic exchange was obstructed, and mistrust poisoned social relations. Only kin could be trusted in such segmented societies, such as in some mountainous regions of the Western Balkans. The Eastern Balkans, by contrast, had been well integrated into the administrative machinery of the Ottoman Empire (Brunnbauer 2004, 131, 142p.). The degree of integration into a functioning administration had a significant impact on patterns of patriarchy, patrilineality, and family. Brunnbauer summarizes the differences between the Eastern Bal- kan mountainous societies close to the administrative centre and the Western Balkan societies on the periphery of the Empire (Table 10). Pastoral economy had a great impact on gender relations, although this impact was not evenly distributed. Gender relations in the Rhodopes, for instance, were not as patriarchal as in the Western Balkans. The Christian household heads were labour migrants or herding hands, left their household for a certain period, their wives took care of agriculture, and they lived in nuclear families. The internal relations of authority were patriarchal but the extreme forms of patriarchy such as in the Western Balkans were not given. The situation for women improved in the interwar period: they began to inherit and went out for paid labour in the emerging tobacco industry. The education system increasingly included women. The situation for Pomak women was worse but better than in the Western Balkans. One reason was that household division took place systematically in every generation. Wives, at a fairly early stage of life, became members of an independent household. Nevertheless, they were heavily sexually controlled, veiled, and their contacts were reduced to their own 88 Patriarchy after Patriarchy family. Only after 1944, a general transformation of gender relations took place among the Pomak population (Brunnbauer 2004b, 400-407).

Table 10: Differences of Western and Eastern Balkans

Western Balkans Eastern Balkans Frequency of multiple households high low Length of multiple household stage long, or even permanent short, or even not at all in the household cycle Average household size high low Extension of households lateral and lineal if any, lineal Composition of households primary, secondary, and primary kin tertiary kin Formation of new household usually after death of upon or soon after marriage household head of sons Frequency of household division low, not in every genera- high, in every generation tion Post-marital residency patrilocal temporally patrilocal or neolocal Kinship system patrilineal mixed or bilineal (kindred) Marriage restrictions descent group exogamy village endogamy Kinship ideology ancestor cult, blood re- stress on flexible arrange- venge ments, no ancestor cult Local social organization by descent territorial, sometimes also professional (guilds) Political environment insecure, acephal society, secure, integrated society, isolated open Source: Brunnbauer 2004, 147

According to Brunnbauer’s findings, mountainous societies tended to be more patriarchal the more closed and the more marginalized they were. The comparison between the Eastern and Western Balkans provides clear indicators for his thesis. Empirical evidence drawn from the Caucasus displays quite similar social phenomena compared to the Western Balkans, for instance, blood venge- ance oriented exclusively toward patrilineal descent (Luzbetak 1951, 179p; Kaser 1992, 287). Other parallels with respect to family formation are evident as well: multiple family groups strictly structured according to the principle of patrilineality, a social order based on male dominance and a clear preference for sons that is reflected in unequal sex ratio at birth, principle of seniority, forms of ancestor worship, and marriage rules corresponding to it (such as levirate). Here also, the composition of families is structured in terms of kinship and tribe, and these practises have remained relatively intact well into the 20th century. The efforts of the Russians to impose here the structures of a modern state have had no lasting success. The impact upon familial and tribal life ex- Patriarchy in Power 89 erted by Islam and Christianity has also remained relatively superficial. There are also parallels between the two regions in their fundamental ecological conditions: both are remote and highly inaccessible mountainous regions in which transhumant sheepherding was the economic basis (Mitterauer 1996, 398). Thus, parameters such as openness and closedness can explain variants of patriarchy, earlier or later ongoing modernization processes, and the questioning of patriarchal relations in mountainous communities. Another facet of openness and closedness is a demographic one. Since the 16th century, the plains were only scarcely settled whereas the mountains, a “production hall” of patriarchy, became relatively densely populated. Since the 19th century, a reversal development set in and brought masses of mountain dwellers down into the plains. Obviously, the second half of the 16th and the beginning of the 17th centuries were a period of population decline, caused by a power crisis of the Ottoman central administration; retreat of settled agriculture and re-nomadization were the results. Destruction and retreat of settled agriculture are amply documented. The Anatolian countryside took on an empty and desolate appearance, as described in the accounts of 19th century travellers. General population decline is difficult to document systematically but for certain areas at least results can be obtained (Faroqhi 1979, 135). Also in the Balkans, depopulation has been as- tonishingly rapid (Palairet 1997, 4). Until the middle of the 19th century, there had not been any noteworthy new settlement in the greater parts of Anatolia for 350 years. In mountain valleys, a great number of villages remained intact. From about 1800, a number of Kurd- ish tribes began to immigrate at the instigation of Ottoman governors. During the last three decades of the 19th century, the conditions of settlements were improving so that the density and distribution of settlements of that time correspond to the picture represented in present topographic maps. A further incentive derived from the modernization of the Ottoman administration after 1839. Security in the country could be guaranteed – a necessary stimulus for potential settlers. The reform laws of 1856 in particular led to a stabilization of law and order in the country in Anatolia as well as in the Balkans, especially regarding the most important security of property. Land could now possess a legal title of ownership by Muslims as well as by non-Muslims (Hütteroth 1974, 21p.). In addition, since about the middle of the 1950s, most of the previous winter pasture-residences had become permanently inhabited villages. In the beginning of this process, in the middle of the 19th century, chiefs of tribes and village aghas had a decisive influence, little of which remains in inner Anatolia today. The smaller a village, the more easily an agha could hold his position as the patriarch of the village. Most of the other inhabitants were related to him. His position could hardly be shaken because of his traditional family ties. Yet the bigger a village, the more easily a rivalry among various large families would lead to a sort of balance inside a village (Ibid. 24-27). The region of Çukurova at the foot of the Taurus Mountains is a good example for this kind 90 Patriarchy after Patriarchy of process. At the beginning of the 19th century, no more than a badly drained, fever-ridden, thinly populated country, the plain was inhabited by nomadic tribes, mainly Yörüks. During the winter season, these tribes used the plain as a grazing area for their animals, and during the hot season, they moved up to the pastures in the Taurus Mountains. The enforced settlement of nomads took place during the second half of the 19th century. When the nomad families were settled permanently in their winter places, they were given a certain amount of land. In certain cases, land was given to the tribe as a whole, so that tribal chiefs appropriated the land and treated their tribesmen as tenants (Kiray 1974, 179). In the Balkans, the process of sedentarization of mountainous societies began already in the course of the 18th century, when Northern Albanian tribal population began to settle in the neighbouring plain of the region of Kosovo/Kosova. This was half a century after a good deal of Serbian population had left the region, heading to the Pannonian plain, which was administrated by the Habs- burg Empire, in 1690. Thus, members of different tribes, which formed their separate village mahalles like their Anatolian counterparts (Kaser 1992, 161- 164), settled most of the newly established villages. During the 19th and 20th centuries, population movements from the mountainous areas to the plains intensified. For instance, between 1834 and 1874, more than half a million Serbs from Bosnia, Montenegro, Macedonia (and Vojvodina) immigrated to Serbia (Calic 1994, 58). Mountainous people were partly forced to settle on the plains by their respective governments, partly it was their own decision. However, there was at least one more reason for people to leave the mountains: hunger. The balance between starvation and survival especially in the self-sufficient regions of short- distance herding had always been a critical affair. Political, economic, elemen- tal, or demographic influences could easily sway this balance. The Montene- grin mountain society experienced the entering phase of the FDT in the second half of the 19th century through an increase of population. This led to a profound economic crisis. Thousands of people starved to death, a process that was accompanied by the emigration of thousands of families or parts of families to the almost unpopulated plains and valleys of Serbia. Instead of staying within the household in which they were born, the younger generation left the household of their ancestors in order to establish a new household in neighbouring Serbia. By the end of the century, one third of the Montenegrin population, although many had already left the country, was without any land, mobile property, and even without houses. People were starving and many of them had not even enough money to leave and to establish a new household elsewhere. Those who had at least little means – another third of the population – constituted the potential for emigration (Kaser 1996: 55). The total population of Montenegro in 1909 was 220,000, 90% of which conducted agricultural or animal breeding economy. A Serbian study concludes Patriarchy in Power 91 that about 100,000 of the Serbian total population of 2.5 million of the year 1906 were settlers, of Montenegrin origin (Radusinoviü 1978, 177). The available data on the changing household structures in Montenegro in the second half of the 19th century indicate that emigration from this Dinaric region at least temporarily caused the dissolution of multiple households. Data from the 19th century show trends towards smaller and less multiple households, but the multiplicity of households decreased only slowly (Kaser 1996, 49-54). In the course of the 19th century, hitherto mountainous nomadic or semi- nomadic peoples increasingly settled the plains of the Ottoman territory. The sedentarized population increased the proportion of population that was characterized by openness. It was the increasing interference of the Ottoman administration that turned the administrative system slowly from a tributary into an interventionist one. The application of regional customary laws, adats, was increasingly limited. We do not know too much about the effects of this process on gender relations until the end of the Empire. We have sufficient evidence that inheritance of land in practise continued to be usually limited to men. The influx of masses of population from the surrounding mountainous areas let us assume that they brought along their patriarchal patterns and adapted them to the new economic conditions. These migration processes, therefore, may have strengthened patriarchy in the plains, on the one hand. On the other hand, people in the plains could be more easily monitored when it came to the introduction of laws that aimed at strengthening the rights of women, or when compulsory elementary school training was introduced in the successor states of the Ottoman Empire. Another argument that could be played out is that these migrating people had lost their traditional environment where patrilineality was grounded (soil of the ancestors). The permanent settlement in the plains needed an economic re-orientation, new labour organization, and, probably a new division of labour. Therefore, family relations could have changed as well as gender relations, potentially.

Illiteracy

One of the characteristics of modern interventionist states is the general en- forcement of literacy. It would potentially make the male and female citizen familiar with alternative lifestyles and patterns of behaviour including gender relations. Widespread illiteracy on both the male and the female side is one of the characteristics of a tributary state. The Ottoman state delegated education to the existing religious institutions, which did by far not have the material resources to provide all its believers with general education. Widespread illiteracy was the ground on which orally transmitted customary laws remained in power and thus constituted a powerful tool for the persistence of patriarchal structures. In this respect, the situation was rather bad in the region of Eurasia 92 Patriarchy after Patriarchy

Minor at the turn from the 19th to the 20th century. Serbia, Romania, Bulgaria (together with Russia and Portugal) had the highest proportions of illiterates in Europe: between 72% and 80% of the overall population (excluding children). Whereas in Greece and Bulgaria among the male population between 15 and 24 years at age, 60% were able to read and write, in Serbia only 40% were able to do so. The elites were not interested in general education and took care primarily of their own educational wellbeing. Paradoxically, Romania had one of the highest rates of illiteracy in Europe but at the same time the same proportion of university professors and lawyers as Germany (Daskalov & Sundhaussen 1999, 115). Much worse are the figures concerning women’s illiteracy. In Bosnia- Herzegovina (1910) 83.9% of the Catholic, 95.0% of the Serbian, and 99.7% of Muslim women were illiterate, although the country had been under Austrian- Hungarian domination since 1878 (Božinoviü 1998, 510). The situation in interwar Yugoslavia did not improve much. In 1921, 60.5% were illiterate (approx. 40% men, 60% women older than 10 years); these figures decreased only to 46.6% illiteracy (32.3% men, 56.4% women older than 10 years) in 1931. Figures on female illiteracy document a clear difference between the former Austrian-Hungarian parts (except Bosnia-Herzegovina) and the rest of the country: in Kosovo/Kosova 93.9% of women were illiterate, in Bosnia- Herzegovina 83.9%, in Central Serbia 78.3%, in Montenegro 77.3%, whereas the figure for Slovenia was only 5.8% (Ibid. 509). In Bulgaria, the proportion of literate Orthodox brides rose from 21% in 1901 to 67% in 1921-25. In the 1930s, a third of the country’s adult population was unable to read (Therborn 2006, 251). Before WWII, illiteracy was still widespread in the region: in Bulgaria, 31% of the population over 7-11 years of age, in Yugoslavia 45%, in Romania 42%, in Greece 41%, and in Albania 80% (Daskalov & Sundhaussen 1999). In Serbia like in other countries of Eurasia Minor, women’s access to higher education was very limited. The first women graduated from a high school in 1891. It is worth mentioning that Serbian women got access to higher education before women in Austria-Hungary and Germany. In the period from 1882-1914, 5% of the grants to study abroad provided by the Serbian government were re- served for female students. Most of them studied at universities in Switzerland because this country was among the first in Europe that had opened doors for female students. The first Serbian woman who graduated abroad was a medical doctor (1879) (Trgovþeviü 1998, 99). Ottoman administration considered women’s education a task for the elite. Recognizing the need to offer girls at least the rudiments of a general education, the Ottoman government undertook a few necessary reforms. In 1858, the first girls’ secondary school was established in Istanbul. In 1869, the Ottoman government enacted a public education law, which had far-reaching consequences and played a major role in the modernization of Ottoman education. Patriarchy in Power 93

One of its provisions mandated the establishment of separate secondary schools for the different millets (denominational groups), but not for the different ethnic groups. For the Muslim millet, the curriculum included Ottoman, Arabic, and Persian languages, geography, mathematics, natural science, music, painting, and various practical skills. The system was effected one and a half years later. By 1874, there were nine secondary schools in Istanbul and its suburbs with 248 female pupils. In 1872, a Women’s Teacher’s Training School was established. It started with 29 students; by 1895, its student body had grown to 350. In 1875, an American school opened in Üsküdar on the Asian part of the city. The first female pupils were from ethnic minority families, but by the end of the century, also girls from Turkish upper class families attended. Under the Young Turks’ Government (since 1908), educational opportunities for women were further extended. The idadiye, a step up from secondary school, became accessible to girls in 1911, and in 1916, the University of Istanbul opened its doors to women. By the end of WWI, all legal restrictions on women’s public education had been removed (Ibid. 50-57). In conclusion, the Ottoman Empire as well as its successor states did not give high priority to general education. The Ottoman educational system was based on the millet affiliation of its population, which meant, for instance, that Alba- nians were not taught in Albanian but its Orthodox population in Greek and its Muslim population in Ottoman-Turkish. Islam neglected the education of girls. Girl’s education was considered unnecessary since their future was not considered as independent individuals but as housewives under the command of the male head of a household. Girl’s instruction consisted of lectures given by their mothers, who did have public education and therefore affirmated existing gender relations. This traditional attitude was rocked only by exceptional events such as labour migration, wars, and forced migration; urban society, the FDT as well as westernization and modernization, although without industrialization.

Patriarchy Questioned

The different elements of dynamism had different effects on gender relations; not every region was integrated in the beginning of the breaking up of the traditional world; closed regions not at all. Until 1950, overall dynamism remained weak compared to that which would follow. One of its basic characteristics was not so much an improvement of women’s position in society but a certain shak- ing of man’s patriarchal self-understanding. This process, of course, produced violence between men and women, fathers and children. In sum, it contributed to the loosening of patriarchal control. 94 Patriarchy after Patriarchy

Seasonal Labour Migration and Over Sea-migration

Since the 19th century, people – especially in mountainous regions – were forced to seasonally migrate in search of labour outside the traditional economic sphere of herding. Only in this way could they secure their maintenance in the villages in which they were born. Labour migration – gurbet (Turk.), kurbet (Alb.), peþalbarstvo (Mak.), and peþalba (Serb.) – was restricted to men. The rest of the family used to remain home and conduct small-scale production. Its impact on family and gender relations has to be seen in two ways. On the one hand, men, especially young men, escaped their traditional social environment and came into contact with the outside world, especially urban settings. They experienced that gender relations could work in alternative ways than in their villages. Labour migrants brought back innovative ideas, useful skills, and money. Thus, labour migration could include the transfer of education, language skills, and culture (Pichler 2002, 152). On the other hand, their women got more freedom. They were responsible for household economy during the absence of their husbands and, maybe, they enjoyed secret sexual relationships with other men. Seasonal labour migration, already evident in the 15th and 16th centuries, became a mass phenomenon only in the 19th century. It has to be considered as a strategy of transcending a closed economic system (predominantly pastoral economy), which could not continue subsistence any longer, and to acquire income outside the local economy. This enabled a population increase that was far beyond the ecological resources of marginal regions. Labour migration can also be considered an alternative to the critical conditions of the mountainous economy of short-distance herding. Thus, it could set in long before the FDT. The kind of seasonal migration depended on the kind of profession. Usually, the working season was about half a year (Ibid. 144-147). Village men were organized in labour-groups under the command of an experienced man, who organized working contracts and administrated money. The working groups were specialized in certain professions, depending on the specific knowledge of their regions of origin or the actual demands of the labour market. The working groups of the town of Trjavna on the northern slopes of the Stara Planina Mountains were, for example, renowned for their builders, specialized in church building and woodcarving. In the Rhodopes, the male population of some villages specialized in masonry and went to build houses, bridges, churches, mosques and other buildings mainly in the adjacent areas to the South. In the Orthodox village of Jugovo, 81% of all married men were classified as masons between 1893 and 1900. In addition, some Christian villages in West- ern Rhodopes were famous for their building traditions, and were home to hundreds of bricklayers. In the case of the Rhodopes, it is interesting to note that migrant labour was almost exclusively confined to the Orthodox population, who owned considerably less land than the local Muslims did. However, this Patriarchy in Power 95 religious division of labour was not a typical phenomenon for all parts of the Ottoman Balkans: in the 19th century, many Muslim Albanians from the West- ern Macedonian and Southern Albanian mountains travelled throughout the Balkans searching for construction work. Christian Albanian masons were also well-known in the Bulgarian lands. From the Pindus Mountains, scores of masons, muleteers, beggars and even doctors left their villages in search of seasonal labour in the early 19th century. Around 1870, most of the carpenters, joiners, and masons of Epirus were itinerant workers. In the Southern Albanian region of Kurvelesh, construction work was the main form of itinerant labour. Men from the Albanian Himara Mountains on the Adriatic coast also served as mercenaries in various European armies until the early 19th century, when changes in recruitment patterns lowered demand for mercenaries (Brunnbauer 2004, 141). The preferred destinations of house constructors from the central Balkan Peninsula until 1878 were both Istanbul and the autonomous Ottoman provinces of Serbia and Walachia. After becoming the capital of autonomous Bulgaria, Sofia became an attractive centre for labour migrants from the regions of Trԃn (Bulgaria), Pirot, and Vranje (Serbia) as well as from Eastern Macedonia (Hristov 2004, 54). Labour migration, thus, was concentrated on Western Bulgaria, South-eastern Serbia, Kosovo/Kosova, the Pindus-region, and Macedonia. The working teams went to Central Serbia, Bulgaria, Romania, Greece, Hungary, and Istanbul. In 1863, about 33,000 Bulgarians worked in Istanbul. At the beginning of the 20th century, two third of the working male population of the west Macedonian districts of Tetovo and Debar/Dibra with its high proportion of Albanians were performing seasonal labour (Palairet 1987, 23pp.). It is assumed that at the eve of WWI, 53,400 persons from Serbia and 92,800 from Macedonia periodically went on seasonal labour. In the decades before WWI, labour migrants’ prosperity had increased, the architecture of their villages of origin changed, and the meals of their families improved. Families used technological innovations and applied urban elements in every-day life (Calic 1994, 180, 189). Whereas seasonal migration could delay age at marriage (at least for men), overseas migration could interrupt personal family bonds forever, although the flow of financial support could continue. The first peak of emigration to the US was at the beginning of the 20th century. Between 1899 and 1913, for instance, about 50,000 Serbs migrated overseas in order to find labour. By the end of the 1920s, one million Yugoslavs lived in other countries, which correspond to 7% of the overall population (Calic 1994, 205p.). Between 1880 and 1910, 11,021 men and 3,867 women left the villages of the Transylvanian Făgăraú county for the USA, a rate three times higher than in the rest of the region. Slightly over 2,000 returned. Nearly all migrants were unmarried men. Emigration had am- biguous effects. The money that migrants sent home and brought with them when they returned intensified competition. The first thing the cash-laden re- turnees did was to establish themselves on peasant estates, so the land prices shot up (Kideckel 1993, 39p; Kaser 2000, 224-229). 96 Patriarchy after Patriarchy

Labour migration – both seasonal and overseas migration – potentially weakened patriarchal structures. Young male migrant workers would use their earned money for investment into new houses when they married neolocally. The migrants would invest money into the education of daughters in order to enable them a marriage that was socially compatible with their newly acquired status. Honour was substituted with money. Thus, the “new rich” introduced change to their villages. However, at about the same period, the “new poor”, refugees of wars, were forced to think about how to survive.

Wars, Refugees, and Forced Migration

Patriarchy, patriarchal ideology, and foundations of patriarchy in pre-modern times in general were bound to the soil of the ancestors, to the inherited land. The basic reason for the rule of patrilocal marriage was the patrilineal assumption that women were not able to continue the bloodline of the ancestors who acquired the “holy” land of the patrilineage. Therefore, at marriage, women had to leave the household and men remained and married their wives inwards. Because the women had to marry out, they could not become entitled to land. Their function was to take care of the continuation of the bloodline of another descent group. The inherited land, therefore, would be incorporated into another descent group, if they were entitled to it. Men intertwined the patriarchal and patrilineal ideology with the inherited land. To leave their inherited soil would have meant to break with the patriline, and ancestor worship would have lost any sense. The region witnessed an almost uninterrupted chain of wars in the second half of the 19th and at the beginning of the 20th centuries. We will not focus here on the casualties of wars. Every casualty of war is one too many, and the millions of casualties left their imprint on the composition of millions of families and on the demographic structure of a future generation. Since our main concern is patriarchal structures, the focus has to lie upon the millions of families who had lost their inherited land as a consequence of the outcomes of the wars; people who had to migrate and to establish a new homestead in a previously unknown region (general overview see Katsiardi-Hering 2003). The refugees’ fates were tragedies; one of the side effects, however, was a heavy blow to the patriarchal pattern. The number of families, which lost their homelands was enormous, the number of separated families and kinship groups, too. In order to restrict the flow of figures, the focus here is laid on the consequences of the Crimean War (1853-56), on the uprisings of Balkan nations against the Ottoman Empire about (1875-78), on the consequences of the two Balkan Wars (1912-13), the consequences of WWI, and on those of the Turkish-Greek War (1919-22). The territorial losses of the Ottoman Empire north of the Black Sea to Russia caused by the Crimean War (and later territorial concessions to Russia) ended Patriarchy in Power 97 with a permanent immigration of Muslims escaping Russian domination. In the middle of the 19th century, about one million Muslim Circassians arrived, mainly from North-western Caucasus (including Crimean) in the Ottoman Em- pire after the Russian conquest of its territory in 1864; about 600.000 settled in Europe, and about 400.000 in Anatolia. Moreover, between 1854 and 1908, the Ottoman state received approximately five million Muslim immigrants from Russia (Caucasus, Crimea, Kuban, and Central Asia) and the Balkans; at the same time some 500,000 to 800,000 Greeks, Armenians and Arabs emigrated, chiefly to Russia and the Americas. The total number of Muslim immigrants from the Crimea, the Caucasus, and the Balkans who settled mostly in Anatolia by 1908 was about five million. The official figure for refugees between 1877 and 1896 was 1,015,015 (Karpat 1985, 11, 27, 55; Jaimoukha 2001, 21). The Congress of Berlin (1878) brought Bosnia-Herzegovina and parts of Bulgaria with their high proportions of Muslim population under the control of Austria- Hungary and an autonomous Bulgarian administration, respectively. In the period from 1880 to 1900, 239,335 Muslims emigrated from Bulgaria to the Ottoman Empire (Karpat 1985, 55). About 2,315,000 Muslims had lived in the areas of the Ottoman Europe before the two Balkan Wars; 1,445,000 remained at the end of the wars. Four-hundred fourteen thousand Muslim refugees settled in the in Eastern Thrace and West- ern Anatolia. From 1921 to 1926, 399,000 additional migrants came to Turkey (McCarthy 2001, 92p.). The consequences of the Second Balkan War were that 15,000 Bulgarians fled from those parts of Macedonia, which came under Greek control; 10,000 Greeks fled from the parts of Macedonia that came under Serbia’s control. Seventy thousand Greeks and 48,764 Muslims were forced to migrate from Western Thrace, which was then occupied by Bulgaria; 46,764 Bulgarians left Eastern Thrace, which remained under Ottoman control, and migrated to what is nowadays Bulgarian Western Thrace (Ladas 1932, 15). Already at the beginning of WWI, 115,000 Greeks were expelled from Turkish Eastern Thrace and went to Greece; 85,000 Greeks from the same region were deported to the interior of Asia Minor. About 150,000 Greeks were driven from the coastal regions of Western Anatolia and came to the shores of Greece; 115,000 Muslims left Greece; 135,000 Muslims emigrated from the other Bal- kan countries to the Ottoman Empire. Nearly 300,000 Muslims had fled from the Southern Caucasus, primarily from Armenia, which came under Russian domination during WWI, the Armenian War of Independence following WWI (McCarthy 2001, 195). Bulgaria lost heavily in the Treaty of Neuilly after WWI. Some 2,600 km2 of its territories went to Serbia and 8,700 km2 to Gree- ce. Bulgaria was forced to cede all of Western Thrace to Greece. After the war, nearly 5% of the population of Bulgaria was made up of refugees (162,779 persons) (Ibid. 157). About 51,000 Greeks returned to Western Thrace. 1919- 20 60,000 Greeks from the Black Sea region that came under the control of the Soviet Union migrated to Greece (Ladas 1932, 15pp.). 98 Patriarchy after Patriarchy

After the “Asia Minor Catastrophe” – the Greek army had completely lost control over the region of Izmir/Smyrna 1922 after a decisive defeat by Atatürk’s National Army in Inner Anatolia – Greece was forced to accept 1.2 million Greek refugees from Anatolia; this in a country whose population was only 6.2 million in 1928. The Greek refugees used the houses and properties of the 600,000 Muslims and 100,000 Bulgarians who had died or emigrated during and after the wars. Most of the refugees at least initially went to cities, especially to Athens, Piraeus, and Thessalonica (McCarthy 2001, 160p.). The Greek census of 1928 gives the number of refugees as 1,221,849. Of these, 151,892 had migrated to Greece before the Greek disaster in Asia Minor and 1,067,957 after that event. Not all of these refugees came from Turkey. About 117,633 came from Bulgaria, Russia, Albania, and Yugoslavia (Ladas 1932, 440; Ada- nir 2006, 188). In the summer of 1922, thousands of shocked and destitute people arrived daily at harbours of the Greek islands and mainland. Even before their arrival in Greece, the Asia Minor people had suffered severe casualties because of war. Losses in the adult male group were particularly marked, therefore, and this was shown in the demographic imbalance of the incoming refugee population. The proportion of widows was extremely high: nearly 25% of the female refugee population. The proportion of women was considerably higher than that of men in the productive age group, and women constituted 60.5% of the age group 20 to 24 years. A shortage of men in the critical age groups affected marriage prospects (Hirschon 1989, 36pp.). For Yerania, one of the refugee quarters in Piraeus, clear evidence of the disruption of family life exists: women headed nearly 20% of Yerania households and only 5 out of 105 were recorded as employed (Ibid. 69). Flight and expulsion had meant to the Asia Minor Greeks the complete disruption of hundreds of thousands of families as well as entire communities. Kinsfolk disappeared, men were detained, and social connections were lost. The extended kinship ties were irrecoverably extinguished. Given the closedness of living conditions, the exigencies of survival and the primary bonds of kinship, which bound many of the co-resident households, cooperation within an extended family group might have been a feasible arrangement. However, strikingly, the co-residence of kin in Yerania homes did not result in multiple households. On the contrary, the independent and autonomous existence of each conjugal unit was socially reinforced. After marriage, the young couple constituted an entirely separate household (Ibid. 106, 153). Anatolia had become the destination for millions of refugees in this period. The region had been relatively homogenous until the 19th century, but came to present an extremely complex ethno-linguistic picture after the Muslim immigration had taken place. Turks originally inhabited the plains and most of the mountains. The Eastern part of Anatolia harboured, in addition to Turks, Sunni and Shiite Kurds both sedentary and nomadic. The total Kurdish population was estimated to be about 1.5 million in the 1880s, a good part of which was nomadic or pastoral. In the second half of the 19th century, the North-eastern Patriarchy in Power 99 part of Anatolia underwent massive ethnic change. The overland immigration of various Caucasian groups after 1853 began the process; and after 1878, when the provinces of Ardahan, Batum, and Kars were ceded to Russia, Dages- tans, Chechens, Georgians, Lazes, and many other Muslim groups, mostly of Caucasian stock, came to settle in Eastern Anatolia. Immigrant Turks from the Balkans were settled in Western, Central, and Southern Anatolia. Later, non- Turkish Muslims such as Bosnians, Pomaks, and Albanians concentrated in Western Anatolia. After the annexation of Crete by Greece in 1913, the Mus- lims there, many Turks, but also some large groups of Greek-speaking Mus- lims, settled along the southern shores of Anatolia. Therefore, the Ottoman population increased from 19.8 million in 1875 to 24.5 million in 1885, and to 27.2 million in 1895. This population increase of 40% in 20 years was chiefly due to immigration (and the settlement and registration of tribes) (Karpat 1985, 56p.). These figures are only a few examples of population transfers in the second half of the 19th and the beginning of the 20th centuries that are almost unbeliev- able. People deprived of their father’s and ancestors’ land had to find new ac- commodation, many of them in cities, where they were forced to change their habits and living arrangements. The enormous number of casualties left deep marks in family composition. Many families lost their heads in the course of theses events, and women had to take over their positions. Previously closely meshed kinship networks were forcefully dissolved. Although highly pitiable, these are all indications of a weakening of patriarchal relations. Many of the refugees enlarged the population of the capitals and larger cities of the countries where they finally settled.

Urban Society

There are many indicators of deep-rooted patriarchal structures in the countryside and in mountainous regions, and a more pleasant situation for women in towns and cities of Eurasia Minor – at least among the elite strata. Urbanity was never extensively rooted in the region, but since the second half of the 19th century with the building of Balkan capitals, foundations for an urban society were laid. Along the coastal strips of the Balkan Peninsula, there was continuity of the urban tradition – also in legal aspects – since antiquity was given and later on enforced by Venetian rule. Similar observations have been made for the bigger continental Balkan cities with their Greek populations (Kaser 2000, 272pp.). Between the 14th and the 16th centuries, continental Balkans cities fell under Ottoman domination. There is very little knowledge about the status of cities in the early Ottoman period. The character of the Ottoman state and its impact on the development of both cities and city life is still under scholarly discussion (Todorov 1983, 13-21). Unfortunately, there is also a total absence 100 Patriarchy after Patriarchy of information about birth and mortality rates and family composition. In addition, migration and its impact on the city cannot be reconstructed (Ibid. 61). The European parts of the Empire were obviously more densely urbanized than its Anatolian parts. In the second half of the 16th century, 31% of the Balkan cities comprised more than 10,000 inhabitants (Ibid. 32). Aside from cities such as Istanbul, Thessalonica, or Edirne, Ottoman cities were not able to compete in size with larger cities in Western Europe at that time. However, the influx of the Muslim population into the Balkan cities was remarkable. In the second half of the 16th century, already 61% of the urban population was Muslim, the bigger the city, the bigger the Muslim share (Ibid. 54pp., 74). Handicraft and small-scale trade were the main occupations of the urban population; but urban agriculture also played a major role. The ruling urban elite consisted of military dignitaries and civil servants, completed by the richer strata of trades people and artisans (Ibid. 108-124). The decline of the Ottoman Empire, especially of its European parts, caused a significant change of the city populations in the Balkan countries and of the capital – both ethnically and socially and demographically. The Greek metropolis of Athens for instance experienced in the course of the 19th and 20th centuries massive immigration from the countryside as well as from Greeks of Anatolia of the Black Sea region, as well as of Bulgaria. Its population increased between 1834 and 1928 from about 10,000 to 800,000 and until 1976 to approximately three million inhabitants (Sant Cassia 1992, 15). Thus, the city lost its rural character rapidly. A new commercial elite was formed, which was able to incorporate the traditional elites and to get control of the resources of the country. This resulted into a new ethic of family life and relationship to kin (Ibid. 33-47). In the course of the Greek insurrection against the Ottoman regime in the 1820s, many Muslims were forced to leave the embattled Greek regions. On the other hand, many Greeks left Asia Minor and later the islands of Chios and Psara. Many of them headed, for instance, to Hermoupolis, the capital of the Greek-Aegean island of Syros. Due to this flow of immigration, the town grew at an alarming rate from having merely 150 people in 1821 to 13,805 in 1828. The city’s population grew until 1861 to 18,511 and to 20,996 in 1870, and until 1879 to 21,540 (Hionidou 1999, 404p.; Loukos 2004). The growth of most of the post-Ottoman Balkan cities remained modest until around 1900. Belgrade in 1838 had only 15,000 inhabitants; around 1900, only 3% of the population lived in the capital Belgrade (Calic 1994 195-196). The future capital of Romania, Bucharest, was outstanding in this respect in being populated by about 100,000 inhabitants in 1850 (Spangler 1983, 81). The urban proportion of Romania’s population increased only slowly from 12% (1860) to 18% (1910). Pace was similar in Serbia and Bulgaria. The urban proportion of Greece increased a bit faster with rates of 18% (1877-1879) and 24% (1907) (Lampe 1979, 14). The urban population of Montenegro increased from a share Patriarchy in Power 101 under 1% to 9% (1911); the population of its capital Cetinje increased at a low rate from 734 (1879) to a moderate 3,874 (1911) (Palairet 1986, 396). In the young country of Albania, only two towns, Shkodra in the North (23,000 inhabitants) and Korça in the South (22,000 inhabitants), had a population more than 20,000 in 1918 (Papa 2003, 36); the capital Tirana was below this figure. Characteristic for a low developed urban economy is the fact that around 1900 one out of four inhabitants of capitals like Belgrade or Sofia was employed in public service (Lampe 1979, 28; Miškoviü 2002, 248). The forced emigration of the Muslim urban population in the course of the 19th and at the beginning of the 20th century caused a reduction of urban population in minor Balkan cities. In-migrating rural strata slowly substituted it. Thus, most of the Serbian cities had a rural character at the turn of the 19th century. Its population was half-urban, half-rural. Traditional urban culture mixed with rural-patriarchal elements and features of customary laws, for instance, in inheritance patterns (Kaser 2000, 279). On the other hand, massive numbers of ethnic Turks and Muslims from the collapsing Ottoman provinces in Europe and Asia turned Istanbul into a predominantly Muslim city. The late 1870s and 1880s, that is the period between the Russian-Ottoman war 1877-78 and the census of 1885, witnessed the most intensive flow and this was repeated again in 1908-09 (annexation of Bosnia-Herzegovina by Austria-Hungary and independence of Bulgaria) and especially after the two Balkan Wars of 1912-13. Approximately 1.5 million Muslim refugees had left the Balkan countries alone and settled in Ottoman territories, many passing through Istanbul, and the natural funnel for migrants heading East, while no doubt large numbers settled permanently in the capital city. The refugees were joined by tens of thousands of single men from the provinces seeking employment. In 1885, only 51% of the permanent Muslim population of Istanbul had been born in the city; 12% came from Ottoman Europe; 17% came from the Middle East, the Crimea, the Caucasus and Central Asia, and 19% from Anatolia (Duben & Behar 1991, 24). These people from the Balkan provinces and Russia were trendsetters in westernization, in politics, and in family life-styles. Many of them stemmed from the middle social strata in the provinces, and they moved quickly into the sultan’s bureaucracy. They provided the cadres for the Young Turk movement and later for the Kemalist establishment. Istanbul became more Muslim during the end of the 19th and the beginning of the 20th centuries. The flood of ethnic Turks into the city at the beginning of the period and the departure of non- Muslim minorities towards the end of it were the causes. The Muslim population of Istanbul rose from 385,000 in 1885 to 560,000 at the outbreak of WWI, while the non-Muslim population declined from 489,000 to 350.000 in the same period. The total population jumped from approximately 500,000 in the late 1850s to 874,000 in 1885, and to over a million at the turn of the century, but by the time of the first republican census in 1927, it had fallen to 691,000, of which 448,000 were Muslims (Ibid. 25). 102 Patriarchy after Patriarchy

Although the proportion of urban population of Eurasia Minor remained comparatively low, one should not underestimate its function as a fabric for new family forms and modernizing gender relations. Despite the permanent influx of rural people from the countryside, the larger cities functioned as a cleaning house insofar as they permanently transformed patriarchal forms of family and gender relation into “modernized” families. This process was in no way one- dimensional. Of course, traditional patriarchy left its imprints on urban life.

First Demographic Transition

Probably no other factor had a bigger impact on the weakening of patriarchal structures of pre-modern societies than the FDT. The dramatic population increase and the increase of family size that it caused, finally led to a situation where married and unmarried women and men had in one way or the other to discuss men and women’s reproduction capacity. Thus, patriarchy received a heavy blow, but certainly not a fatal one. At least couples were encouraged to debate fertility control. FDT is a theory for explaining the transformation of a society with high levels of fertility and mortality to a society with low levels of fertility and mortality. The demographic aging of populations is a direct consequence of this transition as fertility decline leads to fewer children and mortality decline leads to an increase in longevity and in the number of elderly. About 1800, some European countries experienced the mortality decline first: France, Bohemia, and Scandinavia (without Finland). The starting point for these countries could be partly linked to the discovery of the smallpox vaccine in 1796. About 70 years later, most of the other European countries had enacted measures for the prevention of smallpox. About 1880, Italy and the future regions of the first Yugoslavia followed. This second phase may correspond to Pasteur’s discovery of the microbic origin of infectious diseases (1884) and the spread of its application in preventive medicine (Gruber 2000). Three types of causal factors combined in different ways produced a range of demographic transitions: the rise and diffusion of cultural norms (regarding sexuality, contraception, child care, mothering, respectability, morality, family size), the changing economic costs and benefits of having children (in cities it was more expensive than in the countryside because of living space, schooling, and training), and the shifting balance of power between husbands and wives, and between the young and the old (Miller 1998, 253). By the end of the 20th century, most societies of the European East had passed through the process of demographic transition. There is no consensus as to when the drop in fertility began. Throughout the entire 19th century, mortality levels in many areas of Eastern Europe were declining, but it is impossible to extract from the existing data a single period when this decline began everywhere in the region (Plakans 2003, 168pp.). In most of the regions of Eurasia Patriarchy in Power 103

Minor, the Fist Demographic Transition began and ended at a similar point in time. It began in the second half of the 19th century and ended shortly after WWII with fertility rates that just compensated for mortality rates. Albania, Kosovo/Kosova, and Turkey were almost four decades behind the other countries. In the course of the 120-year-period from 1790 to 1910, the population of the Balkans increased on the average at 0.97% per annum. Growth in Ottoman Europe was slower at a mean 0.80%. After slow growth at around 0.5% per annum until the 1820s, Balkan population grew until mid-century at around 1.3% per year. From mid-century to 1880, growth probably decelerated to 0.9% per annum for the Balkans as a whole. Subsequently, between 1880 and 1910, Serbia experienced very rapid population growth at 1.63%, Bosnia at 1.58%, and Bulgaria at 1.37%. These rates of population growth are claimed to be the fastest ever recorded in Europe (Karpat 1985, 19-24). This growth was powered by an extraordinarily high birth rate of over 40 per 1,000 (30 per 1,000 were characteristic of pre-industrial Europe); mortality began to fall rapidly – all these phenomena are characteristic of the onset of the FDT. As in most other countries in the region, the FDT in Romania set in by the end of the 19th century with a decline in mortality. Mortality rate dropped by one fifth, from approximately 30 deaths per 1,000 inhabitants at the end of the19th century to 24 deaths per 1,000 inhabitants by the end of WWI. Between 1911 and 1915, death rates declined to 24.4 while birth rates increased slightly to 42.1. By then, maintaining birth rates at a constant level as death rates fell resulted in the highest natural growth rate in Romania’s history (Kligman 1998, 44p; Kideckel 1993, 38p.). The overall Yugoslav birth rates dropped at a similar pace. They declined from 36.7 in 1921 to 26.6 in 1947 per 1,000 population. With the legalization of abortion in February 1960, it dropped to 19.6 in 1967 (Kapor-Stanulovic & David 1999, 282). In the case of Yugoslavia, however, we have to expect an earlier onset of the FDT in the northern regions compared to the southern ones. At the beginning of the 19th century, Serbia was one of the most thinly populated European countries with only 12.5 inhabitants per square kilometre in 1833. Due to natural population increase and immigration, population increased from 678,192 (1834) to 2,971,700 (1914). Between 1860 and 1900, the Serbian birth rate hovered at around 40 per 1,000 population. The FDT began in early 1880s with a decrease in mortality. Natality continued to maintain a high level. Together with Russia and Hungary, Serbia had the highest fertility rates in Europe at this time (Calic 1994, 15, 59). In the Yugoslav Republic of Macedonia with its Orthodox-Macedonian majority and a Muslim- Albanian minority, the FDT began at different points in time; the birth rate of Orthodox Macedonians began to decline considerably earlier than among Al- banians, and decreased faster. In the 1980s, Macedonia was the only Yugoslav republic that maintained fertility levels above the minimum needed to keep the population constant, due to the high fertility level of Albanian women. In the first years of the Republic, the differences between the two ethnic groups were not so obvious, especially in the countryside. However, in 1962, the Muslim 104 Patriarchy after Patriarchy regions show birth rates twice that of Orthodox regions. Orthodox mothers gave birth to one or two children, whereas not a few Muslim mothers gave birth to eight children in the 1980s (Brunnbauer 2004b, 569pp.). In Bulgaria between approx. 1880 and 1925, fertility rate was about 40 per 1,000 population and thus at a similar proportion as in Serbia or Romania in that period. In fact, there was an increase in fertility rates in the period between 1895 and 1922, with the exception of the war years, when it fell drastically. The low in mortality rates and high fertility rates remained nearly constant until 1925 (Todorova 1993, 102). After 1925, a steady reduction of fertility rates can be observed and, thus, only during the second quarter of the 20th century can we speak of a fertility transition when the birth rate fell from 33.1 per 1,000 in 1926-1930 to 16.0 per 1,000 in 1966-1970. This process had begun in the cities at the very least two decades earlier (Ibid. 62p.). The demographic transition in Albania began three to four decades after the other Balkan countries: in the interwar period. In the period from the middle of the 1950s until the mid-1960s the peak was reached with a population increase of 3% per year. In the 1980s, the increase slowed down to 2%. The average age of the population was 27; this was one of the youngest populations on the continent (Sundhaussen 1999, 138; Hofsten 1975, 147pp.). Mortality rate dropped from 17.8 in 1938 to 7.9 in 1973, whereas fertility rate decreased only from 34.7 to 30.4 in the same period of time. Data on a regional basis shows a lower birth-rate in urban settings. The rural birth rate was higher in the North of Al- bania than in the South (Hofsten 1975, 149p.).There are also indications that the transition in fertility among the Albanian population of Kosovo/Kosova began in the interwar period with increasing fertility rates, which began to decrease slowly from the end of the 1960s/beginning of the 1970s. With 2.37, the assumed fertility rate immediately before the Nato intervention of 1999 was the highest in Europe after Albania (Raševiü 2004, 1, 13; Raševiü-Petroviü 2001, 2p.). The FDT on the Greek islands was in line with most of the countries of the region. On Paros, at the turn of the 20th century, fertility was still 8.47 children per married woman; between 1924 and 1933, this rate declined to 6.78. The age of the mother at last birth dropped from 38 to 36 years; the mean inter- confinement interval became 17 months longer than that of the previous marriage cohort. In the same period, fertility declined on another Cycladic island, Mykonos. In urban areas of Greece, fertility decline set in around 1900 (Ga- valas 2002, 133-155). It is assumed that in the first thirty years of the 19th century, the Ottoman population decreased, beginning to increase after 1850; but there were differences in growth rates between Muslim and non-Muslim groups. The non-Muslim population actually grew at a fair rate after the 1830s, probably 2% annually. The Muslim population declined or remained stable. Causes for the disproportionate fertility rates were (1) that male Turks spent their peak productive years in Patriarchy in Power 105 military service and were unable to marry and settle down. (2) Non-Muslim groups had no military obligations, throve under the changed economic, cultural, and social conditions, and this had a positive effect on the size of their populations. (3) Epidemics seemed to take a greater toll among Muslims in part because of misconceptions they had about disease and the ways to fight it (Karpat 1985, 11). Istanbul’s Muslim population was a forerunner towards a lower level of fertility. In the last quarter of the 19th century the city, with a total fertility rate of about 3.9, fell below the so-called “normal” range of total fertility rates of pre- industrial populations. The Muslim population of Istanbul appears to have been the first sizeable Muslim group to have extensively practised family planning. The high degree of prevalence of parity-oriented family limitation within marriage, combined with a family formation system encouraging late female age at marriage, clearly set Istanbul apart from any discernible “Muslim” or “Middle East” pattern. In no other Middle Eastern or Muslim city is there a parallel to these historical trends (Behar-Duben 1991, 4p., 14p.). As in other developing regions in the 20th century, the demographic transition occurred later and more rapidly in the MENA countries than in Europe. Re- duced mortality resulted in high fertility-accelerated population growth in the second half of the 20th century, almost half a century after most of the Balkan countries. The annual population growth reached a peak of 3% around 1980 (Moghadam 2003, 133). The Middle Eastern high fertility rates, lasting until the second half of the 20th century, were also the result of pro-natalist politics. Algeria reported in 1988 5.4 births per woman, Iran (where contraceptives were prohibited) 5.6. The 1990s, however, saw a reversal of the Islamic state’s pronatalism and policy on the family. The state began to encourage widespread use of contraception, and a dramatic decline in fertility ensued. On the average, fertility in MENA countries declined from seven children per woman at around 1960 to 3.6 children in 2001. The total fertility rate (average number of birth per woman) is less than 3 to 5 in the different countries (Ibid. 149p.). Turkey fits into this Middle Eastern picture due to the high birth rates in the countryside, especially in the eastern and south-eastern parts of the country. Between 1935 and 1975, the population grew from 16,347,000 to 40,198,000 (Shorter & Macura 1982, 14p.) and is now almost 70 million. However, fertility rates began to decrease earlier than in the rest of Middle East: from a 1935-40 fertility rate of 6.66, to a 1970-75 rate of 5.05 (Ibid.). Fertility has significantly declined over the last two decades. Turkey has reached the last phase of the FDT at a- bout the same time as Albania. At this stage, fertility has declined a great deal and has very much approached the level at which one generation will barely replace another. The rate of population growth in Turkey will drop to very low levels in the early 21st century, and, in the course of time, may even fall to zero or to negative rates (Turkish Industrialists’ and Businessmen’s Association 1999, 31p.). 106 Patriarchy after Patriarchy

Tables 11, 12, and 13 provide a general overview on mortality decrease, life expectancy at birth, and mean age of population, comparing countries of Eura- sia Minor and some other European countries. Between 1930 and 1960, life expectancy in all countries increased by one to two decades. Male life expectancy began to decline in socialist countries such as Bulgaria or Romania (Bar- bagli 2003, XLII) (see Table 11).

Table 11: Life Expectancy at Birth, by Country and Sex, 1910-1995

Men Women 1910 1930 1960 1985 1995 1910 1930 1960 1985 1995 England & 51.5 58.3 68.0 71.9 73.0 55.4 62.4 73.9 77.5 79.1 Wales Austria – 54.5 65.6 70.8 73.5 – 58.6 72.0 77.5 80.1 Italy 44.3 51.0 66.5 72.4 74.9 45.7 54.4 71.4 78.8 81.4 Greece – 48.4 67.3 72.2 75.0 – 49.8 70.4 76.4 80.3 Albania – – 63.7 68.5 69.3 – – 66.0 73.8 75.4 Bulgaria 38.7 47.7 67.8 68.2 67.1 39.3 49.0 71.4 74.4 74.6 Romania 39.9 41.2 63.6 66.9 65.5 40.1 42.6 67.1 72.6 73.5 Yugoslavia – 50.1 62.4 68.3 70.0 – 54.2 65.6 73.6 75.0 Turkey – – – – 65.6 – – – – 70.2 Source: Kertzer & Barbagli 2003, XLp.; Turkstat

The mortality gaps between regions were also reduced at first stage, because of the great headway made in the field of infectious diseases since the late 1940s. However, since the mid-1960s, mortality decline has been limited to Eastern Europe. The increase of male mortality in Eastern Europe is principally due to the rise in deaths caused by cardiovascular disease. Two decades later, both male and female deaths related to diseases of the circularly system were sub- stantially higher in the East, where they have increased by 30% for men and 8% for women, while they have decreased elsewhere (Monnier & Rychtarikova 1992, 135, 142). From the point of view of fertility, in the mid-1960s there was clearly no divide between Eastern Europe and other regions. The combined observation of mortality and fertility trends thus confirms what they showed separately: over the past 50 years, the differences between European countries have been substan- tially reduced, but in the second half of the 20th century, the East has been characterized by a certain demographic inertia, which has separated it from the rest of Europe (Ibid. 135pp.). Toward the mid-1960s, total fertility rates exceeded 2 children per woman (and generally even 2.5 throughout Europe). Women had their children early: one Patriarchy in Power 107 out of three children was born to mothers aged 20 to 25 and sometimes earlier. Women’s total first marriage rates reflect the popularity of marriage at that time. Since that time, many changes have occurred in the field of family formation and fertility behaviour, producing a variety of family forms in Europe. Total fertility rates have fallen in most countries, but the reduction has been much slighter in the East. In the West, age at first marriage has plummeted and the proportion of those married before the age of 25 has fallen. In Bulgaria and Romania, marriage has gained little ground (Ibid. 138pp; Kertzer & Barbagli 2003, XXXVIIIp.) (See Table 12).

Table 12: Total Fertility Rate (average number of children per women) per Country, 1920-2004

1920-1929 1940-1945 1960-1964 1980-1984 1990-1994 2004 UK 2.38 2.08 2.85 1.80 1.79 1.63 Austria 2.35 2.10 2.78 1.61 1.47 1.42 Italy 3.90 2.65 2.51 1.55 1.30 1.33 Greece 4.80 3.00 2.25 2.02 1.38 1.29 Albania 5.50 5.00 6.40 3.45 2.70 – Bulgaria 4.70 2.74 2.24 2.01 1.57 1.29 Romania 4.45 2.75 2.10 2.65 1.55 1.29 Yugoslavia 4.40 3.30 2.70 2.10 1.70 – Turkey – – – – 2.93 2.43* * 2003 Source: Kertzer & Barbagli 2003, XXII; Turkstat; Recent demographic developments 2006, 78

Because of the low life expectancy and slight differences in fertility behaviour, the populations of Eurasia Minor are younger on the average; the discrepancy became less pronounced in the course of the last decades (Table 13). Albania with its relatively young population is still a significant exception; the reason is the late entry into the FDT in comparison to other European countries. The declining fertility rates raise the question of contraception. Throughout much of the 20th century, modern contraception was, for instance, unavailable in rural and urban Romania. Couples relied on abstinence, coitus interruptus, the woman’s monthly cycle, douching after sexual intercourse, and a variety of plant and herbal remedies to control the number of children (Kligman 1998 45p.). In the 1930s, Serbian women who considered themselves pregnant in early stage consumed quantities of strong brandy mixed with camphor, or ate the end of a hellebore root in order to introduce an abortion. We do not know how effective these methods were but women who wanted to avoid further pregnancies made use of these kinds of abortion frequently (Petroviü 1932, 108 Patriarchy after Patriarchy

114). Abortion, performed in private medical offices, was confined to the privileged segment of urban society.

Table 13: Average Age of Population in Various European Countries, 1950- 2000

1950 1975 2000 United Kingdom 34.6 33.9 37.7 Austria 35.8 33.9 38.5 Italy 29.0 33.4 38.5 Greece 26.0 33.9 36.7 Bulgaria 27.3 34.0 36.4 Romania 26.1 30.5 32.7 Yugoslavia 24.1 29.0 35.5 Albania 20.6 19.5 25.4 Source: Kertzer & Barbagli 2003, XVII

Interesting research reports emanate from the Greek island of Mykonos on the question of contraception. Demographic material and interviews show four successive stages in fertility decline: (1) Absence of deliberate birth control (marriage cohort 1879-1908). (2) Spacing is practised, using natural contraceptive methods including periodic abstinence and prolonged breast-feeding. (3) The population moves to more efficient contraceptives once these become known and available. Contraceptives are substituted for breast-feeding. Cou- ples do not have a specific family size in mind at which they stop childbearing. (4) Fertility comes within the “calculus of conscious choice”. In the case of Mykonos, fertility declined very rapidly. Thus, it seems that it was an innovation in ideas, a change in perception of the number of children that it was socially acceptable to produce (Hionidou 1998, 68-71, 79pp.). Fertility control in most of the regions of Eurasia Minor began in the period between the two World Wars. This was considerably later than in most parts of Europe and earlier than in most of the Middle East. On the margins of the former Ottoman Empire, in the Albanian populated regions and in South-eastern Anatolia, it began in the second half of the 20th century – a century after most of Europe and more or less at the same time as in Middle East and North Af- rica. Fertility control means a small revolution in sexual and gender relations (as well as in demographic development). The number of children a couple wanted became part of discourse. On the other hand, aside from men’s withdrawal, fertility control also became the duty of women, especially after the introduction of the Pill. At the same time, this also meant a certain empowerment of women. Women were now able to more effectively control the timing of pregnancy, although the most frequently used method of fertility control Patriarchy in Power 109 remained coitus interruptus, a method that retained mainly men’s control on fertility. After 1950, the question of fertility control – in connection with the question of abortion – became the central issue of socialist family politics.

Westernization and Modernization without Industrialization

By the end of the 19th century, a new family form began to dominate working- class aspirations and union struggles in Western Europe. In male breadwinner households, women were expected to withdraw from paid workforce on marriage, and children to enter it only after they finished their schooling. This difficult compromise favoured men over women and the patriarchal interests of capitalists over their interests as employers. It can be seen as an attempt by labouring men to re-establish patriarchal control on a new basis – to recoup the earlier balance of sexual power by redefining the nature of women’s work by widening gender-based job segregation in the workplace, and by radically transforming the meaning of family life itself in a way that brought it much closer to the bourgeois ideal. The western family gradually lost judicial, religious, protective, and later economic and some socializing functions, as state institutions took over tasks previously consigned to the household, and production was removed from the home. By the end of the 19th century, most of the structures of patriarchalism in Western Europe were transformed. In spite of the tenacity of patriarchal legal conventions, the absolute authority of the father as the legal head of the household was curtailed, and significant aspects of ju- risdiction over children were transferred from the family to the state. Bureauc- racy replaced patriarchalism as the dominant mode of governing states, but the instrumental rationality of bureaucratic organizations hides a sexual and gendered politics (Miller 1998, 262p., 290-293). Eurasia Minor at that time was far from these developments of Western Euro- pe. Parallel to that, patriarchy was still far from the transformation from private to public. The overwhelming majority of the respective population still was bound to the agrarian sector: in 1910, the rate was 81.6% in the Serbian, 80.9% in the Bulgarian, 80.0% in the Greek, and 80.8% in the Romanian population (Daskalov & Sundhaussen 1999, 117). Thus, it is no oversimplification when scholars speak about modernization or westernization without industrialization. Terms such as “modernization” and “westernization” are frequently used when the phenomena of social change in regard of the Balkan countries or Turkey are being described. These terms, however, seem to be more empty than meaningful. Still worse is the application of terms like the dichotomy of “traditional” and “modern”. On the other hand, in practical writing, these terms are hard to avoid because their vagueness helps us to cover our inability to define clear transition lines between that of what is considered “traditional” and what “modern”. What today is considered as “modern”, can become emphasized as “tra- 110 Patriarchy after Patriarchy ditional” tomorrow. Still one of the best parameters for the characterization of a society as traditional or modern is industrialization. What a fully industrialized society means – when this period begins and when it ends – cannot be measured in exact figures. Industrialization develops a certain dynamic all over the world: a shift from agrarian production (including animal breeding) to industrial production, a shift from low to high capital investment (including its concentration in increasingly fewer hands), a shift from primarily rural-based population to concentration in the centres of industrialization, and a shift from high to low fertility rates. All these characteristics have enormous impacts on patriarchal structures, family life, and kinship relations. This process can be accompanied by an increased democratization and the affirmation of civil societal structures, but not necessarily. One could continue this chain of thoughts and start thinking about the features of post-industrialization and post- modernity, but, having Eurasia Minor in mind, this is not a current issue. Beyond the terms of pre-modernity and modernity, the term “modernization” is frequently used, especially with respect to countries whose economic data show a considerable gap compared to the economically most advanced countries. Modernization can be understood as a concrete historical process; not only as a theory or as a definition of what is “modern”. Modernization is considered as the efforts of the elite to compensate for the imagined or real backwardness of their countries and societies vis-à-vis the West as fast as possible. Protagonists of modernization oriented themselves on the industrial and political double revolution (Agrarian Revolution and Industrial Revolution) in West- ern Europe. Depending on the point of time when countries received their sov- ereignty or autonomy from the Ottoman Empire (this concerns the establishment of the Republic of Turkey, too) during the 19th and 20th centuries, the path to modernization (equalized with terms as “westernization” and “Europeaniza- tion”) was initialized. It became clear very soon that this catch-up process did not constitute a simple imitation of the western ideal but was profoundly different. Since the point of departure was different, also the outcome was different. Compared to the “First World”, the “deficits” of the Balkan countries and Tur- key were obvious: a lack of infrastructure, low productivity, prevailing agricultural subsistence economy, high illiteracy rates, a low degree of urbanization, a low degree of industrialization, a lack of specialists in all fields, a legal system based on customary law, a patriarchal life style as well as clientelistic networks (Daskalov & Sundhaussen 1999, 105pp.). Because of the Ottoman military defeats, the first sphere in Ottoman society to be transformed was military practise. Ottoman defeats by western armies had necessitated a constructive Ottoman response. This led the Ottoman sultan to abolish the traditional, once effective but for decades highly ineffective military organization in 1826. He formed a western-style palace battalion from his household slaves, free Muslim youths, and officials’ sons training in the palace. This was the first Ottoman officer training institution; the institution then expanded and gravitated out of the palace; this was a turning point in the Ottoman Patriarchy in Power 111 adoption of western-style institutions. During the following decade, a modern governmental structure was established, including a Ministry of Foreign Affairs (1835) and a Ministry of Finance (1837). The second half of the 19th century witnessed the codification of the Ottoman legal system after various western models, most prominently the French. The promulgation of a new Penal Code in 1840 was followed in 1856 by new Land and Penal Codes and in 1861 by commercial and maritime codes. The codification culminated in the promulgation of a new Civil Code in 1870, again using the French model. The sultan’s household was transformed into a modern bureaucracy. The penetration into the Empire of the western-style institutions as the organizing principle was a long process that originated with the arrival of the first western military advi- sors, continued with the establishment of military schools and culminated in the foundation of western-style schools and institutions throughout the Empire by the second half of the 19th century (Göçek 1996, 6p., 68-72). As western powers acquired economic and concomitant political power over the Ottoman sultan, they started forcing a series of reforms to help the Ottoman Empire join the ranks of “civilized” countries. Legal equality for all was one mode through which western powers exercised their domination. The Ottoman reforms of 1839 and 1856, both involving imperial decrees guaranteeing equal rights to all subjects, were executed at the encouragement of the western powers. The 1939 Noble Rescript of the Rose Chamber and the 1856 Imperial Re- script were both based on the western notions of human rights, proclaiming, meanwhile, such principles as the security of life, honour, property, and the equality of all, regardless of religion, in the application of its provisions. The former set stage for these provisions and the latter articulated them, whereby, Ottoman citizens, regardless of religion, could be accepted for government service and enrol in both military and civilian state schools (Ibid.112, 179, note 122). The inability of the newly emerging institutions to incorporate ethnic minorities was evident. For instance, during the period 1859-79, all of the 162 graduates in the school of civil servants were Ottoman Muslims. In addition, after 1879, even though the number of graduates increased fivefold, the small number of minorities that had started attending hardly increased. In 1885, although the distribution of those employed by the state as bureaucrats ranged across the ethnic-religious divide, comprising 0.38% Ottoman Greeks, 0.59% Ottoman Armenians, and 0.44% Ottoman Jews. The ethnic composition of those in “trade, commerce and industry” was dramatically different. While 25.37% of these were Ottoman Muslims, the majority were Ottoman Greeks, Armenians, and Jews. In 1912, there were no Muslims among 40 private bank- ers and 34 stockbrokers in Istanbul (Ibid. 84, 115). The most significant development of late 18th and 19th century Ottoman society was the emergence of a new vision of Ottoman society that was formed by western ideas of “civilization” (medeniye). Although few agreed on what this concept actually entailed and many argued for disparate interpretations, the concept’s ambiguity did not weaken but instead strengthened its effect on the 112 Patriarchy after Patriarchy

Ottoman social structure. The nebulous definition could well be used to define civilization, capitalism, and/or industrialization, all the western historical processes that came to the Ottoman Empire simultaneously as one undifferentiated whole (Ibid. 118). The model of the European family, which the Ottomans began to possess in the 19th and 20th century, was part of a larger material and symbolic world, which they had been acquiring since the early 1800s. The ac- coutrements of a European family life-style began to penetrate the homes of a significant number of Istanbul Ottomans, particularly during the last three decades of the 19th century. Many ordinary rituals and routines of everyday family life began to change significantly. The result was a significant change of direction in the symbolic environment of the homes of many people in Istanbul. It is of great symbolic significance that even the word used for “family” during the period changed. Beginning in the late 19th century, it became commonplace for Muslims in Istanbul to use the word familiya rather than aile. By the post- WWII period, this usage has ceased with a return to the use of aile (Duben & Behar 1991, 202-211). The dispute among the Ottoman elites about the potentials and the limits of westernization at the end of the 19th century documents the connection of modernity to cultural identity and gender. The Ottoman advocates of westernization were convinced that only the liberation of women from religion and traditional bonds was able to start the civilizational process. The conservative opponents argued that the liberation of women would result in a crash of the moral structures of society. By the end of the 19th and at the beginning of the 20th century, predominantly men protested against the life conditions of Turkish women in general. These were men of the upper and middle strata. This phenomenon of male feminism spread over parts of the Near and Middle East and in general to the “Third World”. In the Turkish Republic, since 1923, the “new woman” became a predominant figure in the iconography of the regime: in short, carrying the flag at the parade, in school- or military uniform or in western style in the ballroom (Kandiyoti 1991, 319, 322; Göle 1995, 24p.). Kemalism led to the triumph of the modernists over the conservatives. The most central opposition between the West and the Islamic civilization consisted in the normative definition of gender relations, in the religious-cultural codex of honour and customs, in the order of internal and external spheres, and in the division between men and women. According to the Kemalist paradigm, women were the forerunners of westernization, secularism, and the dramatic revolution of social relations (Göle 1995, 24p.). Kemalist reforms aimed at the public visibility of women and the mingling of both sexes in society. Therefore, it included a radical change of the existing society, of the private and public space and of Islamic morals, which were based on the invisibility and modesty of women. The visibility of women in public spaces should have been guaranteed by the discarding of the veil, the introduction of co-education of boys and girls, the active and passive right to vote for women, the abolition of the sharia, and the acceptance of the Swiss Civil Code (1926). Whereas the majority of the Patriarchy in Power 113

Turkish population could easily switch between the daily exercise of religion, traditional conservatism, and modernity, the Kemalist elite and the Kemalist women’s movement were polarized by their stress of the “civilized”, “emancipated”, and “modern” side. This polarization led to a cognitive dissonance between the value-systems of the elite and the ordinary population. In opposition to all “other” lifestyles, the elitist Kemalist lifestyle was supported by the state (Ibid. 25, 28). Kemalist reforms in the 1920s introduced secular legal codes based on western models. Such legal codes provided an important basis for women to act as autonomous people. After the proclamation of the Republic, women took part in social life. Couples went out together, attended balls, visited cafés and did certain types of sports such as riding. Attitudes were permanently qualified as “civilized” or “primitive”, “progressive” or “reactionary” (Göle 1995, 82p., 89, 91). Another result of the reforms was that Turkey became unique among Near Eastern or Muslim countries in having large numbers of women in the legal profession (Moghadam 2003, 56). At the beginning, only a small stratum of urban women was affected; the larger part of the Anatolian hinterland was not. Anthropological research in the 1950s shows that materially, little was done to combat classical patriarchy. Kemalist “feminism” was a top-down project and not a result of the women’s movement. It was a project of the bourgeoisie for the bourgeoisie, especially for that of Istanbul. It would be wrong to call it a complete failure. Strolling through the streets of Istanbul or Ankara, this becomes obvious. Kemalist “feminism” failed to reach rural Anatolia. Travelling through the countryside, but also in the streets of Istanbul, this becomes clear. Anatolian conservativism has reached the city on the Bosporus through a massive wave of migration. One of the reasons for this is that Turkish policies of industrialization failed to a considerable degree. This resulted in a widening modernization gap between Turkey and the Balkan countries in the second half of the 20th century. Mustafa Kemal showed his firm will to change gender relations from the top down. This project failed because the state lacked the necessary infrastructure (industry, roads, and communication) and the institutions in the countryside that would have supported it. The rest of the successor states of the Ottoman Empire did not even envision a similar project until the middle of the 20th century. Westernization and modernization remained almost exclusively male projects. Turkish women in 1926 achieved formal equality with men, but the paper where these paragraphs were written was not worth the money it cost to print. Women’s movements were suppressed, and the gender issue was on ice until the EU began to put pressure on Turkish governments to commit to serious steps forward. This was also the case with Greece in the 1980s. In the rest of the successor states, it was up to the socialist regimes to formally inscribe the equality of both sexes. 114 Patriarchy after Patriarchy

In a worldwide comparison, Eurasia Minor was temporally in the middle of the field of countries who wanted to westernize. For centuries, the Ottoman Empire was on an “Oriental” course. Its military successes over its Christian rivals confirmed this course and its tributary character. Coincidentally, in the century when the Ottoman Empire’s military triumph in Europe was on its peak, a mode of economy that was later called “capitalism” became visible on the horizon in Western and Central Europe. The advantage of capitalism as compared to a tributary economy was not yet clearly visible in the 16th century but became obvious in the course of the following two centuries. The ruling elite had to decide between the tributary “Asian” inheritance and an interventionist “European” future. It decided for the second way; the introduced reforms were painful yet only scratched the surface of a society, the elite of which decided to go to Europe. The results of WWI completed an unfinished project. The early Republic of Turkey even accelerated the pace of reform, which was from top- down and had to be translated to a deep-rooted rural society without proper tools. The Balkan successor states of the Empire were confronted with similar problems. Gender relations were not a profound topic in any of the major nor minor reform projects. All factors of social change were either introduced top- down (Turkey) or were results of macro-sociological processes: extension of school training and the FDT or migration with related effects in the interwar period. This did not improve the position of women in society significantly but began to question men’s patriarchal role in society. When the Communist parties took over power in most of the Balkan countries, they established regimes of interventionist character that changed traditional gender relations radically, at least on the surface, and brought them ahead in this respect compared to countries such as Greece or Turkey. CHAPTER 2

The Decline of Patriarchy (approx. 1950-1990)

The 20th century was a period of rapid socioeconomic change. Western Euro- pean societies concluded the era of classical industrialization and entered what many call post-industrialism or post-modernity; Balkan societies were forcefully torn out of the lethargy of agrarian production and pushed into the era of industrialization in the second half of this century; in Greece and Turkey, this process of de-agrarization and industrialization was more smooth but basically the same. Gender relations were not untouched by these processes. The dismantling of explicitly patriarchal marriage coincided in time with WWI. The Scandinavian countries were pioneers in reforming family law. They conceptualized marriage as an individualist and an explicitly egalitarian act. This was manifested in divorce by mutual consent. This principle was enshrined in a Norwegian law of 1909. The notion that marriage was for the well-being of the individuals who contracted it was elaborated in laws on the contraction and dissolution of marriage in Sweden in 1915, in Norway in 1918, in Denmark in 1922, and in Finland in 1929. This egalitarian conception of marriage had wide legal consequences for property rights and inheritance. In 1915, the concept of illegitimate children was abolished, and children of extra-marital birth were given a right to paternity and their father’s name and inheritance. Finnish women won the right to vote in 1906, Norwegians in 1907, and Danish in 1915. The Turkish constitution of 1926 proclaimed gender equality, and in 1934, Turkish women received the right to vote. Soviet power spread feminism and anti-patriarchy into central Asia and the Caucasus in the late 1920s. Land collectivization after 1929 also used feminist arguments in its propaganda present- ing the kolkhoz as an exit from patriarchy. Parental authority came under ideological attack in the 1920s, and physical punishment of children was forbidden. The patriarchal and patrilocal family in Central Asia and the Caucasus, however, survived Lenin, Stalin, and de-Stalinization, at least partly. In the late 1970s, more than half of Georgians and nine out of ten young Uzbeks accepted that parental approval was obligatory before getting married (Therborn 2006, 73, 80pp., 84p.). After WWII, the principle of equality between the sexes was introduced in Eastern Asia, Western and Mediterranean Europe, as well as in the Balkans. In Japan, a new Civil Code was passed in 1947, imposed by the American occupi- ers. After they had come into power in 1949, the Chinese Communists introduced a new marriage law, proclaimed in May 1950. The new marriage system was based on the free choice of the partners, monogamy, and equal rights for both sexes. Bigamy, concubinage, child betrothal, and interference with the remarriage of widows were prohibited. In Germany, the Constitution of 1949 116 Patriarchy after Patriarchy stated that men and women were equal before the law (Ibid. 92-98). The new Italian Constitution of 1948, as well as the Yugoslav (1946), Bulgarian (1947), and Romanian (1948) Constitutions included the principle of gender equality. From 1975, more egalitarian legislation was introduced in most of the western countries: in 1975, in Austria and Italy, and in 1976 in Belgium, legislation substituted the term “parental power” with “parental care”. Normative gender equality was established in Spain in 1975, in Portugal in 1977, and in Greece after the electoral victory of the socialists in 1983. The United Nations gave the decline of patriarchy a strong global dimension. The year 1975 was declared International Women’s Year. This year was followed by a Decade for Women (1975-1985). It turned out to be extremely important in strengthening feminist action in the Third World (Ibid. 99-103). What happened in Eurasia Minor in this period? Starting with answers, some theoretical background is needed. It is commonly understood in academia that patriarchy is a very adaptable form of men’s domination. Its fundamental frameworks are different in pre-industrial agrarian societies compared to industrialized ones. Having the Eurasian continent in view, industrialization began at various points of time. Whereas North-western Europe took its course into industrialization from the second half of the 18th century, Eurasia Minor was predominantly agrarian until the middle of the 20th century. One of the most important differences between patriarchy in pre-industrial and industrialized society in Sylvia Walby’s feminist diagnosis is the aspect of generation hierarchy. In pre-industrial society, the eldest men’s domination over each other was central to men’s domination over women, too. In an industrialized society however, generation is not any longer central for men’s organizational ability to expropriate women’s labour, and hence in the household. Patri- archy in the industrialized world became “a system of social structures and practise”, in which men dominate, oppress, and exploit women. The use of the notion “social structure and practise” is important here, since it clearly implies rejection of both biological determinism and the image that every individual man is in a dominant position and every woman in a subordinate one (Walby 1997, 19p.). Private patriarchy of agrarian society was substituted by public patriarchy. The substitution of private by public patriarchy is an important theoretical tool here. Private patriarchy is based upon household production as the main site of women’s oppression. Public patriarchy is experienced principally in public sites such as employment and the state, in socialist states also in the Party. The household does not cease to be patriarchally structured, but is no longer the main site. In private patriarchy, primarily individual patriarchs exploit woman’s labour, while in the public version exploitation is collective. In private patriarchy, the principle patriarchal strategy is exclusionary; in the public, it is segregationist and subordinating. The shift from private to public patriarchy involves a change both in the relations between the structures and within The Decline of Patriarchy 117 the structures. In each form all the remaining traditional patriarchal structures are present; there is simply a tendency towards dominant public forms (Ibid. 24). Walby’s analysis is clear, maybe radical. Understood correctly, the move from pre-modernity to modernity, from pre-industrialized to industrialized world, from private to public patriarchy has enforced women’s exploitation and oppression. One of the questions that have to be carefully investigated in this study is, whether the societies of Eurasia Minor have followed this mode of change from a more private to a more pronounced form of public patriarchy. At the first moment, doubts prevail, since most of the Balkan countries established a “socialist mode of production” with the explicit endeavour to eliminate all forms of exploitation, including that of women. The reality of socialism and “real socialism” established even more pronounced forms of public patriarchy than in its capitalist counterparts, where this process was more subtle and elaborated. The socialist state was an interventionist one, and its “arts of interventions” were many. One of them, for instance, was to consider the people’s bodies as the property of the state, to be moulded into the socialist body politic. Through rhetorical, institutionalized, and disciplinary strategies, the state and the Party defined the parameters of the permissible. It also constituted a self- serving symbolic order to which interests other than its own were to be fully subjugated. Fertility control was a critical issue. Socialist economies were dependent on the availability of an enormous labour force. Political demography was aimed to control both social and biological reproduction for the “building of socialism” (Ibid. 3p; Brunnbauer 2007). Reproduction, therefore, became highly politicized, frequently at the expense of women. The intervention of states or governments in reproductive issues also dissolved the distinction between public and private spheres. Sexuality became exposed to public scrutiny. The personal became political by virtue of the state’s penetration into the body politic not only as a metaphor but also in practise. The state’s and Party’s domination of the public sphere and usurpation of many of the prerogatives of the private transformed its presence into a familiar aspect of the daily lives of every citizen. Domination of the public sphere and intervention into the private were crucial and served as effective mechanisms for integrating individuals into socialist society (Kligman 1998, 5p., 13). This chapter will shed light on the question of how rapid modernization and industrialization, initialized around the middle of the 20th century, affected traditional kinship, family, and gender relations. Although the modernization processes differed between socialist and capitalist systems, in both cases gender relations were transformed within a short period – compared to the small changes having taken place in gender relations since the Neolithic Revolution about twelve millennia ago. In both cases, the traditional tributary systems that constituted the basic framework of patriarchy were substituted by interventionist systems that began to regulate gender relations. The methods of the socialist state were more rigid than those of Greece and Turkey, on the one hand. On the 118 Patriarchy after Patriarchy other hand, the socialist systems absorbed patriarchy and transferred it to the level of one-party-power monopoly. The hypothesis formulated here is that public patriarchy was established without eliminating crucial forms of traditional private patriarchy. Greece and Turkey, on the other hand, represented a form that relied on the self-understanding of a male-centred political elite that excluded women systematically from public activity and public labour. The three sub-chapters will analyze, first, the social transformations that took place in the second half of the 20th century and how they effected gender relations, when socialist regimes began to introduce population politics in order to secure the establishment of socialist economy. On the one hand, women were formally liberated from traditional patriarchal relations, on the other, population politics was at the expense of women and led to the establishment of state and party patriarchy, after having the so-called women’s question officially resolved. State and party infiltrated the private lives of its citizens, made private public and the public interests private. The main instrument was the myth of the socialist family whose ideological fundament had little in common with practise. No doubt, the closer one comes to the year 1989, the more evident that a kind of decline of patriarchy had been achieved but – paradoxically enough – at the expense of women.

1. Social Transformation and Population Politics

“The foetus is the socialist property of the whole society. Giving birth is a patriotic duty. Those who refuse to have children are deserters, escaping the law of natural continuity.” (Nicolae Ceauúescu, 1985) (Baban 1999, 199)

The Balkan countries and Turkey belong to the latecomers of the European process of proto-industrialization and industrialization. Before the onset of proto-industrialization and early capitalism in Western and Central Europe, Europe was characterized by an overwhelming agricultural sector, which increasingly began to achieve surplus in production, which was used to provide for rapidly emerging towns and cities. From the 16th to the early 19th century, industrialization, even before the factory system came into being, was accompanied by the proletarization of part of the rural work force in Western Europe. It was a form of enterprise that involved a close association between household production, based on the family economy, and the capitalist organization of trade. The Western European marriage pattern had, therefore, undergone far- reaching changes: the prerequisite for this development was a proportion of under-employed rural workers. They no longer had to take into account the balance between the available land and the family size. With proto-industrial production, women and children all worked in the house, for example weaving. The Decline of Patriarchy 119

The more children one had the more labour was available for cottage industry – child labour being the capital of the poor man. Among cottage workers, marriage was earlier and households were larger (Goody 2000, 122). Around 1780, the first factories were created in England. This changed the situation for the rural proletariat. Cotton textile became a mass product and mass migration to the emerging industrial centres began. Mobility was necessary, which gave kinship a new meaning, especially in transatlantic migration. People used kinship ties to create new networks of support. In addition, capitalist enterprise depended on family ties of the wider sort. Labour migration meant residence in towns and increased autonomy and privacy (Ibid. 124p., 127-133, 141). By 1900, patriarchal power in Western Europe had been subject to at least three significant social and economic changes: (1) proletarization was pertinent to the issue of patriarchy because the proletarian father had no or little property to transmit to his children and because his fatherly power was exposed to the superior powers of owners of capital. (2) Urbanization challenged traditional authorities of all kinds including patriarchy. Between 1800 and 1900, European urbanization rate increased from 16% to 41% of the total population. (3) Industrialization challenged patriarchy and traditional family arrangements by its large-scale severing of work place from residence (Ther- born 2006, 22). Nevertheless, there were also factors that stimulated the reproduction of patriarchy: (1) survival of the early proletarian family was based on the pooling of the contributions of all family members. The household head usually controlled access to employment. (2) Low-class children born out of wedlock were neither a disaster nor a threat to the established order. (3) The French Revolution and the rise of bourgeois values re-affirmed European family norms, which had a heavy social anchor in the patriarchal family. (4) The industrial working class, towards the end of the 19th century, with the declining importance of the textile and garment industry, became increasingly male. By 1900, the male breadwinner working-class family had emerged. Many women began to concentrate upon the bringing up of children (Ibid. 23p.). At that time, Eurasia Minor was far from of being included in these kinds of processes. In comparison to the industrial world, the region was deeply agrarian. Until WWII, the overwhelming majority of the population still was in agricultural production; industry could absorb only an insignificant number of people. Proto-industrialization had been on the way since the 19th century, for instance in the Rhodopes, where sheep breeders increasingly began to produce textiles for the needs of the restructured Ottoman army (Brunnbauer 2004c, 217-234). In 1910, about 80% or more of the populations of the Balkan countries were still producing in the primary sector (Table 14). After WWI, the situation did not change significantly. Bulgaria, for instance, was still a predominantly agrarian society. Prior to 1944, more than 80% of the population was engaged in agriculture – in 1948: 82.1% – and 7.9% in industry (1948). 120 Patriarchy after Patriarchy

Smallholdings dominated; the average holding in 1926 was 5.73 hectares per family (Brunnbauer, 2006).

Table 14: Percentage of Population in the Agrarian Sector, Balkan Countries, 1910

Serbia 81.6 Bulgaria 80.9 Greece 80.0 Romania 80.8 Source: Daskalov & Sundhaussen 1999, 117

The region of Zamfirovo in North-western Bulgaria may serve as a good example for the ongoing processes. In two villages close to Zamfirovo, the average size of landholdings was 35 and 55 decares, respectively, in the 1930s. In 1916, in Zamfirovo itself the average household comprised 36 decares. By the mid-1950s, this number had dropped to 27.8. The plots of a farmstead were dispersed. Different family members were sent to work on different parcels because plots were too dispersed to walk from one to another. Others spent nights in the fields during peak work times for related reasons. Fragmentation caused by population growth and partible inheritance worsened the situation, which was further complicated by a concomitant increase in household fission, continuing a process that may have been under way in the 19th century. In Zam- firovo, the number of households rose from 403 in 1917 to over 700 by WWII, while the population increased by only 40% during this period. As a result, the average household size decreased from 6.3 to 4.7 members. Zamfirovo’s limitations provoked residents to seek temporary work elsewhere, which resulted in migration, going abroad temporarily for agricultural work or construction. Woods were cleared in order to enlarge the cultivated land. Deforestation and cultivation of common lands were simultaneously products and provocateurs of a wider range: the intensification of animal husbandry through increased feeding with cultivated fodders. The general land pressure and the fragmentation of holdings threatened old extensive methods of rearing stock. This reduced the need for large extended families to oversee dispersed flocks and herds, and this likely encouraged household fission (Creed 37-45). From all Eurasia Minor’s countries, Albania was in the most precarious situation. More than 80% of the population made their living in the primary sector of production. The foundation of the National Bank and the introduction of a national currency in 1926 were first steps towards a development policy. How- ever, in 1940, the industrial inventory of the country consisted of some consumer goods industry, some sawmills, cigarette fabrication, one brewery, one cement factory and several minor production places (Kaser 1995, 425). The Decline of Patriarchy 121

In Yugoslavia, only 33% of the industrial capacities of the country were concentrated south of the Save-Danube-line before WWII. Southern Serbia, Mace- donia, Kosovo/Kosova, and Montenegro were badly developed and comprised only about 1% of the production capacity of the country. In Montenegro with its 360,000 inhabitants in 1931, only 1,355 were classified as workers (Ibid. 425p.). Whereas in Western Europe, industrialization and urbanization and the changing family patterns and gender relations caused by them were relatively long ongoing processes, the new socialist Balkan societies were exposed to them in a radical way and rigid manner. Within a period of one to two decades, former agrarian societies were transformed into industrialized ones. One may assume that gender relations were not changing at the same rapid pace.

Industrialization and Urbanization

The static picture of a conservative, rural, and patriarchal society gained substantial dynamism in the course of the 1950s in both capitalist and socialist Eurasia Minor. In the middle and the course of the second half of the 1940s, socialist parties in Yugoslavia, Albania, Romania, and Bulgaria took over leadership in their respective countries. Industrialization with focus on heavy industry was the primary means of pushing their countries forward, as they thought, ahead of the capitalist world. Urbanization became a side effect of interventionist and enforced industrialization politics, since the establishment of heavy industry without modern technology required enormous human resources (Kaser 1995, 426). The share of economic branches in the GDP of the socialist countries changed dramatically. In Bulgaria, for instance, in 1939, the share of industry was 27% and in 1988 70%, whereas the share of farming decreased from 53% to 10%. Similar was the development in the neighbouring Yugoslav Socialist Republic of Macedonia, where the share of agriculture decreased from 71.6% in 1948 to 11.6% in 1994 (Brunnbauer 2006). The share of agrarian population compared to the overall population in the Yugoslav Republics decreased drastically in the period between 1948 and 1981, especially in those south of the Save-Danube-line (Table 15). In 1989, Belgrade had more than 1.6 million inhabitants; one quarter of Serbia’s population lived in its capital; only one third of its population was born in it; only few had parents both born in the city (Kaser 1995, 427). The process of industrialization caused also in Turkey an unprecedented social change dating from the 1950s. In 1950, the liberal Democratic Party came to power in the first free elections and opened a new phase of the hitherto etatist economic policy of the Kemalist Republican Party. Mechanization of agriculture paralleled a beginning industrialization process, based on the import of expensive foreign technology and capital. The number of entrepreneurs was 122 Patriarchy after Patriarchy now rapidly increasing, even though entrepreneurship was still a relatively new occupation for Turks. Prior to WWI, most of the industry and commerce was in the hands of the non-Muslim minorities, in part because these activities have long had low status in Islam. After a short period of encouragement of the private sector during the 1920s, the etatist policy of the 1930s began to carry out industrialization via the public sector. It was only with the beginning of the multiparty system that the business community received both encouragement and resources on a significant scale. The number of private-sector manufacturing plants employing ten or more workers increased from 2,515 in 1950 to 5,912 by 1975 (Weiker 1981, 35).

Table 15: Proportion of Agrarian Population Compared to the Overall Popula- tion in the Yugoslav Republics South of the Save-Danube-Line and in the Ser- bian Province of Kosovo/Kosova 1948-1981 (in per cent)

1948 1953 1961 1971 1981 Bosnia 71.8 62.2 50.2 40.0 17.3 Montenegro 71.6 61.5 47.0 35.0 13.5 Serbia proper 72.4 67.2 56.2 44.1 27.6 Kosovo 80.9 72.4 64.2 51.5 24.6 Macedonia 70.6 62.7 51.3 39.9 21.7 Source: Kaser 1995, 427

Partly in order to continue to win peasant votes, but also because an important sector of the economy was lagging badly, the Democratic Party sponsored a greatly increased amount of stimulation of the rural economy. Policies included large-scale mechanization, greatly accelerated distribution of state lands (but not land reform), which included efforts to increase the amount of land owned by the average farmstead so as to at least somewhat increase efficiency, more credit, and, most importantly, a policy of very high price supports. In addition, there was growth of demand for agricultural products because of the rapid population increase and an increase in national disposable income. Production increased rapidly, but, as was the case with industry, it was not always accompanied by development. Much of the increase in agricultural production was a result merely of an increase in cultivated area (Ibid. 196). Since the 1940s, a migration of unprecedented dimensions from rural areas to the cities began. In 1950, 18.5% of the population lived in urban areas. By 1975, this figure has jumped to 42%. The results of the 1980 census revealed that nearly half of the country’s population was already urban. Istanbul had become now the third largest city in Europe. This dramatic population shift was almost entirely attributable to the massive departure of people from the rural The Decline of Patriarchy 123 hinterlands of the central and eastern regions of Anatolia and the Black Sea coast (Duben 1982, 74). The most important stimulant behind the migration movement was a transition of agricultural technology from labour-intensive to capital-intensive methods. This, coupled with the accumulation of land in the hands of wealthier peasants, caused the dislocation of small farmers. This migration was undertaken under near-compulsory conditions to an unknown and reputedly hostile environment with only enough money to last a few days. Under these insecure conditions, migration was first undertaken by the household head, and the rest of the family stayed to keep up the fight for subsistence until the household head could raise sufficient income to summon them. Thus, miles of tin-roofed, shabby huts with no infrastructure, built on public land or former agricultural fields, surrounded the urban peripheries (called gecekondu – houses constructed overnight). The family, usually with only one breadwinner in the household, kept up its rural way of life. Small-scale gardening and poultry raising were practised around the shacks to supplement the insufficient income of the household head. The adult male gecekondu dwellers provided the required cheap labour in the cities. Another change was the entrance of women/wives into urban economy. Male adult members of the family took on small-scale jobs and, thus, became non-marginal, in fact essential, factors in the economy. Younger male children along with newcomers took over the marginal jobs. Female adult members entered a single area of employment: housework. Thus, the family became a multi-income earning unit. This economic change resulted in the transformation of these families into a permanent feature of urban life (Sen- yapili 1982, 238-241). Meanwhile, migrants’ children working in the streets have become an ordinary phenomenon in Turkish cities. They work as vendors and are forced to work mainly because of the economic situation of their families. This represents a survival strategy especially for the Kurdish families who have migrated from the eastern and south-eastern Anatolian cities to Istanbul during the early 1990s. The families of the children of Istanbul’s district of Beyo÷lu, for example, migrated mainly from the cities of Mardin, Siirt, and Batman. This migration differed significantly from previous flows of migration, in the sense that it has not been a voluntary one. Armed conflicts between PKK and the Turkish army, which increased in scale from 1984, resulting in 32,883 casualties up to December 2000, have been a source of social and economic upheaval. The figures on forced migrants vary. Kurdish figures estimate up to 2.5-3 million, the United Nations estimate between 500,000 and 2 million, the Turkish authorities declare the figure to be about 350,000. What makes this new migrant population completely dissimilar to its precedents is that the newcomers had to migrate as whole families, whereas the previous ones were part of a chain- migration process, leaving their place of origin gradually as the pioneers settled in the cities. They literally arrived in the city overnight. All contacts with the villages they were born in are cut off, since the village is destroyed, or it is 124 Patriarchy after Patriarchy forbidden to return there. Consequently, they are deprived of any subsistence- provision emanating from the villages (Yilmaz 2004, 125-131). Also in Serbia, migration to the cities achieved a mass character. In 1948, 72.3% of the population was engaged in agriculture. In the period 1953-1991, the rate of urban population increase was 327.9% in Central Serbia, 223.2% in Vojvodina, and even 432.1% in Kosovo/Kosova. Some migrant workers began to work in the city for longer periods and to bring in individual family members or the whole family, and eventually settled in the city. The mass movement deeply affected urban culture, leading even to the negation of urbanity itself. The majority settled in the outskirts. The settlers first had to buy a piece of land big enough to build a house on. Building a house was the predominant ideal in the villages, an idea that was clearly expressed in the system of social values. For the peasants, the house has always been the focal point of socioeconomic organization, with kinship relations at its core. The first generations of rural migrants found living in apartment buildings unacceptable (Matiü 2005, 134- 139). The settlers brought the rural ideals of living in a family house and of farming work into the unorganized quarters. They actually brought a pro-rural (semi- autarchic) form of family economic reproduction to the new environment. As the wages were low, nearly every family grew vegetables on the land around their house. Every family had at least one pig and some poultry. A large number of families continued to have intensive social relations with their family members back in the village. Living in an apartment did not mean that the tenants were willing to accept the fact that they were not on their own land, so they persistently wanted to continue using rural living models. Some of them adjusted parts of their flats to their rural needs and habits by turning parts of them into smokehouses and afterwards lit a fire with the parquet. Others turned the land around the blocks into their private kitchen gardens, while yet others were more drastic and kept poultry, goats or pigs on the balconies of the sky- scrapers, even slaughtering and roasting them there. This did not last for long, as the state banned livestock breeding in urban residential areas (Ibid. 140pp.). Neighbourhood relations managed to overcome traditional rural kinship relations in only a few blocks or streets in every city. Nowadays, the conduct of neighbours in Belgrade is regulated by the patterns of patriarchal behaviour. During the crisis of the 1990s, relations among neighbours lost the urban and fell back on the rural features. The number of families who still favour the traditional pattern of kinship relations – conceptualized in rural society – is even larger in Serbia’s cities. The paying of attention to kinship relations is directly transferred from the traditional rural culture. Kinship relations provide an important source of help, support, and function as a means of social identification. When a rural family moves to a city, it is separated but not isolated from the wider family groups. A family of rural origins relies on the economic strength of their relatives in the village until it gains sufficient economic independence. The Decline of Patriarchy 125

The countryside is primarily a source of inexpensive food and many city households still cultivate land in the countryside to a certain extent in order to secure low-budget subsistence. Although spatially isolated, the city family still participates in most ceremonies organized by their relatives in the countryside. Participation in such ceremonies confronts the city family with additional expenses, primarily gift buying, travel expenses, and appropriate clothing (Ibid. 144pp.). The rural population of the Yugoslav Republic of Macedonia decreased from 72.76% (1921) to 40.2% in 1994, whereas the urban proportion increased from 27.34 (1921) to 59.8% in 1994. The population of its capital, Skopje, increased from 68,334 (1931) to 444,299 (1994) (Brunnbauer 2004b, 580p.). In Bulgaria between 1947 and 1965, about 1.5 million people left the countryside and moved into the urban centres. Most migrants were under 30 years of age. The demographic structure changed significantly: whereas in 1956, 66.4% of the population lived in the countryside (and 33.6% in the cities), this percentage decreased to 37.5% in 1980 (Brunnbauer & Taylor 2004, 289; Iliev 2001, 96p.). The increase of urban population is reflected also in Table 16.

Table 16: Population Growth of Major Bulgarian Cities, 1934-1985 (in 1,000 inhabitants)

1934 1946 1965 1985 Sofia 287 367 887 1,121 Plovidv 100 127 229 342 Varna 69 77 180 303 Burgas 36 44 106 188 Ruse 41 58 129 185 Stara Zagora 30 38 88 150 Pleven 32 39 79 130 Dobrich* 30 31 55 109 Sliven 31 34 68 102 Shumen 25 31 64 100 * In the period between WWI and WWII, Dobrich belonged to Romania. Source: Brunnbauer 2006

The mass exodus from the countryside, triggered by collectivization and industrialization, ended the long Bulgarian tradition of peasant smallholders and, like in Serbia, brought elements of a rural way of life into towns. A statistical survey conducted in 1967 revealed that almost 80% of industrial workers who had entered industry after 1944, had a peasant background (Brunnbauer & Taylor 2004, 289; Iliev 2001, 96p.). The working class woman transferred many aspects of her peasant culture to the city. Bulgarian socialist society had pre- 126 Patriarchy after Patriarchy served one of the most important demographic characteristics: that of practically universal marriage. This has to be explained in terms of a complex interplay between social and population structure, demographic regime, and inheritance patterns, where the resulting and at the same time independently functioning cultural tradition has turned out to be one of the most stable factors (Todorova 1994, 133). These processes on a macro-level are also reflected on the micro-level. In the 1960s, the level of mechanization in the cooperative of Zamfirovo in North- western Bulgaria increased, and the nature of agriculture began to change dramatically: expanding stocks, construction of irrigation facilities, the mechanization of dairy facilities, silage, and all cattle sheds being equipped with mecha- nized milking machines. Whereas the early cooperative had no machines and only limited access to the neighbouring towns, the village got its own state Motor Tractor Stations with more than 50 employed in the 1960s (Creed 1998, 79p.). The rural exodus began in the late 1950s. The peak was reached in 1962- 63 when 359 people left Zamfirovo (2,925 inhabitants in 1966). Since 1976-77, out-migration decreased constantly. “Gerontocratization” of agriculture was the consequence. Since women lived longer and retired five years earlier than men did, they quantitatively dominated this “geriatric” culture (Ibid. 80p., 121-125). Never before in history had social transformation become so visible in Eurasia Minor as in the 1950-70s. The younger generations mainly left the countryside, leaving the elder generations behind. The rural areas became gerontocratized and the industrializing urban centres became the focus of new socialist lifestyle or, as in Turkey or Greece, the focus of progress and first urban experience, before migrating further to the fully industrialized world. Whereas the population-influx in countries such as Greece and Turkey could not be controlled, which resulted in extended poor gecekondu settlements in the vicinity of the Turkish urban centres, the rural-urban migration in socialist countries was under the control of the Party’s planning policy; this does not mean that migration was less chaotic. Whereas the governments of Greece and Turkey had no explicit intention of linking rural-urban-migration to a program of modernization, the socialist governments did. Whereas the half-industrial, half- peasant rural areas were considered the final residuum of traditional patriarchal culture, everything concentrated at the new urban elites, who were considered the spearhead of socialist revolution and modernization.

Modernization

The “new socialist man” in the minds of the socialist governments, was not easy to realize, since the migrating people possessed a long cultural heritage with them whose influence was difficult to avoid. The establishment of legal equality of men and women, the relationship between parents and their chil- The Decline of Patriarchy 127 dren, and the regulation of inheritance were considered cornerstones of the process of modernization. Yugoslavia as well as the other socialist countries realized legal modernization within the first years of government. The Yugo- slav family law, which was passed in 1946, foresaw equality of man and woman in marital union; they could choose their profession freely; jointly acquired property had to stay joint property; children were legally protected against the arbitrariness of their fathers; equal shares of inheritance for men and women were guaranteed (Kaser 1995, 429). The normative aim was to establish “democratic” relations between husband and wife as well as between parents and children. In fact, in urban milieus the autonomy of young people increased since they began to spend increasing time away from home, thus escaping parental supervision. This was due to extended educational and professional training as well as to their activities in youth brigades. The father-son bonds lost importance because the de-privatization of property inheritance was dramatically devaluated. Educational training became the key to social advancement, and parents were increasingly ready to invest in their children’s future wellbeing (Brunnbauer 2007, 532-536). Modernization resulted in a previously unknown amount of mobility, for instance in the central Serbian village of Orašac. The former farmers were trans- ported on buses to the newly established factories of the surrounding towns, from the second half of the 1950s. Some of them already went to western countries as Gastarbeiter (guest workers). Private cars and tractors became frequent. The traditional order of marriage ceremonies subsequently changed. Kinship grade did not any longer exclusively fix the order at the wedding banquet, but now the type and construction year of kin’s cars. One and a half centuries after the foundation of the village, the first hotel was established (Kaser 1995, 430). The new Communist authorities in Macedonia, on the other hand, were confronted with the question of emancipation of Muslim (Albanian, Turkish) women in the country. Veil wearing, trade and abduction of women, polygamy, and the practise of shutting female children up in the house after the age of ten, sexual abuse of women, and re-selling of women and girls characterized their situation. Such practises were a common part of the customary law of the Al- banian and Turkish minorities. The campaign of lifting the veil intensified in 1950. The propaganda machinery that year was channelled towards preparing the ground for a law that would prohibit the covering of a woman’s face. The Muslim population generally interpreted this as a personal assault on the honour of women. The act forbidding the wearing of veils was passed in Parlia- ment in January 1951. The implementation of the law met fierce and widespread resistance amongst the Muslim population, often resulting in fighting and bloodshed. In a period of one month, with minor exceptions, Muslim women discarded the veils. But they stopped moving outside their yards and were again locked away in their micro-world by their husbands and fathers. Hus- bands would take over the fieldwork of their women and hide them out of sight (Achkoska 2004, 187-191). 128 Patriarchy after Patriarchy

In Albania, the politics of the Communist Party focused on the abolition of the customary law in Northern Albania. Opposition was in vain. Communists found accomplices in families on the fringes of traditional tribal society and “honourless” families. The Party agents promised labour, bread, and education. Customary law was ruled out and heavy sanctions were imposed on acts based on traditional law. However, customs could not be completely eradicated; in the private sphere, their practise continued. A very prominent part of customary law was honour: personal honour and the honour of the kinship group. In many cases, only blood revenge could “clean a black face”. Although the Commu- nists imposed heavy sanctions on blood revenge, cases of this were reported until the 1970s (Pichler 1995, 74-81). In the second half of the 20th century, Turkish society as a whole went through social and economic transformations. In accordance with these transformations, women’s status in society has changed as well, which in turn has affected demographic behaviour, notably fertility behaviour. On the other hand, despite the successful modernization process, Turkish society continued to be mainly characterized by patriarchy, which was reflected in women’s position in society. Turkish women lived – and still live – in a highly heterogeneous cultural structure where “modern” and “traditional” exist at the same time (Akadli Er- göçmen 1997, 80). Evidence is offered by a breakdown of the patriarchal extended household – at least in Western Anatolia – between 1950 and 1970. Women were interested in both setting up their own nuclear households and limiting the number of children. Rural women began to use the courts to achieve divorce from their husbands as early as 1950 and later for protection in other kinds of conflicts. The Civil Code of 1926 and a very secular legal system would begin to have effects on rural women’s behaviour. Among rural, land- holding farmers in Western Anatolian Turkey, the change from rural subsistence economies to surplus production for the market changed older patterns of domestic labour, and in this process, household authority patterns were sometimes changed. Previous cycles of household growth, expansion, and devolu- tion began to break down (Starr 1989, 499-503). Until the second half of the 20th century, the political and economic power of a country in Eurasia Minor – and not only here – was primarily measured in terms of manpower. Turkey in the middle of the century had a relatively small population compared to the size of the country; on the other hand, the country was undergoing the phase of FDT, where it could expect rapid population increase in the second half of the 20th century. Another question was, whether the country’s industry was able to absorb an increasing population that had already begun to leave the countryside in order to find non-agricultural labour in the cities. The socialist countries had another situation: they were, except Albania, already passing the peak of population increase after WWII, but were in increasing intensity seeking additional labour force for the realization of their ambitious industrialization projects. The Decline of Patriarchy 129

General Demographic Trends

The 20th century started with two clearly distinct marriage patterns, the eastern and the western, which can be summarized as low age at marriage and universal marriage in Eastern Europe as well as Turkey (and most of the rest of Asia), and high age at marriage and a high degree of celibacy in Western Europe. From that time on, we can observe an increasing convergence of marital behaviour in the first six decades of the century. In Western Europe, people began to marry earlier, in Eastern Europe, they gradually began to postpone marriage and more people remained single. The end of WWII marked the beginning of a short period in which marriage was very attractive in West and East. The marriage boom lasted only to the middle of the 1960s. Marriage rates in every Eu- ropean region began to decline sharply. Age at marriage followed the same pattern. After declining from 1945, the process was reversed in Western Euro- pe in the early 1970s as young people started postponing marriage. Eastern Europe deviated from the rest of the continent, as age at marriage changed only marginally. As a result, in the 1960s, marriage patterns in Western and Eastern Europe (and Eurasia Minor) were more alike than ever (Engelen 2004, 281pp.). The 20th century witnessed a historically unknown decline in marital fertility from about six births per married woman to less than two births. This down- ward tendency was universal in Europe. In 1900, marital fertility in Eastern Europe had the highest value of the continent, closely followed by the Mediter- ranean countries. Although fertility declined in both regions, in 1930, both of them still had a distinctly higher marital fertility than the rest of Europe. It is no coincidence that the highly industrialized Northern, Western, and Central Eu- rope first witnessed birth control. In the traditional economies of Eastern Euro- pean and Eurasia Minor countries, the motivation for fewer children was not felt until later. As long as agriculture dominated, there was still room for children. In the two decades after WWII, marital fertility also decreased here. Fer- tility in Europe slowly converged until about 1965. After this year, the pronatalist policies of socialist states again led to diverse developments (Ibid. 285- 290). Western European marriage behaviour changed in a revolutionary manner in the course of the 20th century. Between 1900 and 1960, the restraints on marriage and family building were removed and everybody who wanted to marry could do so; the age at marriage declined significantly. In the 1970s however, the proportion of those who married was already back at the 1900-level. Young people began to enjoy choosing from a broad variety of alternative living arrangements. As a result, in the early 1980s, the classical nuclear family constituted only barely 40% of the total number of European households. Marriage lost its attraction (Ibid. 291-299). In 1970, already 45% of Austrian women between 20 and 24 years were single, in 1980, the rate was 57%. The most important characteristic of European family life in Western Europe in the last 130 Patriarchy after Patriarchy decades of the 20th century was the emergence of cohabitation as an accepted and widespread living arrangement. Young people increasingly looked for independence. Northern Europe paved the way. By 1980, 15% of Swedish couples cohabited, in Switzerland and Italy only 1%. In Southern Europe, even today cohabitation rates are low (Engelen 2004, 303p.). This was not the case in Eastern Europe and Eurasia Minor where the nuclear family was not exposed to similar experiments and societal challenges; marriage and the building of nuclear families remained almost universal. In general, divorce rates in Europe until WWII were very low and stable (under 0.5 per 1,000 inhabitants). The end of the war witnessed an enormous increase in divorces. In the 1950s and 1960s, divorce rates stabilized at a new and higher level of approximately one per 1,000 inhabitants. The third period started around 1965 as a revolutionary rise in divorces began to occur in all European regions. Exceptions were the south European catholic countries where divorce was almost unknown and even legally impossible (Ibid. 284). Whereas in Western Europe, mortality rates dropped significantly in the course of the second half of the 20th century, they began to increase again in the socialist countries after about 1965. In Bulgaria, mortality rates have increased since the mid-1960s from 7.9 in 1964 to 12.7 in 1992 and 14.7 in 1997 (per 1,000 inhabitants) (Vassilev 1999, 74). The increase of mortality in Eastern Europe and Russia is unique in the history of mankind. Nowhere else has health worsened so seriously in peacetime among industrialised countries. Reasons usually given are risk factors such as alcohol abuse, smoking, and poor nutrition. A specific lifestyle was responsible for that. This again was the result of a specific socialist policy: to invest the responsibility for health in the state rather than the individual. Primary prevention in which the individuals are encouraged to foster a healthy lifestyle was not emphasized. In the West, individual responsibility for health was the main feature of public health policy. People were expected to lead a lifestyle that would maintain or improve their health. In Roma- nia, the politics of Ceauúescu led to increasing foreign debts. In order to repay the loans, he sold much of Romania’s farm produce abroad and introduced food rationing in 1981. In 1982, he announced a program of “rational eating” in order to reduce the country’s caloric intake. The consequence was that the food situation for ordinary Romanians deteriorated so dramatically that by the end of the decade, getting any kind of food was a major effort for every family (Cock- erham 1999, 78, 198p.). One thing was in common in the Eastern European countries in the 1950-60s: they used certain highly symbolic aspects of family policy to express their difference from non-socialist states. Divorce, abortion, and a policy supporting pregnant women became the three mainstays of social policy. The state inter- vened in these ways into the private lives of the citizens. In April 1956, Bul- garia proclaimed the absolute freedom of women to choose whether to become The Decline of Patriarchy 131 mothers. In December of this year, Romania followed this example, Yugosla- via did in 1960, Albania never (Blum 2003, 227). The socialist countries seemed to undertake serious efforts in order to realize women’s rights of control over their own bodies in the 1950s-early 1960s. Their legislation was far ahead of Western Europe in this period. Patriarchal relations, at least in the field of legislation, were much more strongly empha- sised in Western Europe than in the communist sphere. Although deriving from complete different angles of social development, a kind of convergence in marital behaviour of east and west seemed to be established until the 1960s. The 1960s seem to constitute one of the demographic crossroads between Western Europe, Eastern Europe, and Eurasia Minor. In the West, age at marriage increased again and marital fertility as well nuptiality decreased; in the East, age at marriage remained low, marital fertility and nuptiality remained high. Whereas in the west, young women were demonstrating for their freedom from patriarchal oppression – and received this freedom to a certain extend – a network of state and party patriarchy kept women’s rights under control in the socialist sphere. The again increasing divergences in the second half of the 20th century were the result of socialist population policy.

Abortion and Pronatalist Policy

Legalization of abortion as an instrument of family planning was one of the greatest changes affecting family life in the 20th century. The Soviet Union was the first country, which allowed abortion (1920); after WWII, most of the other socialist countries followed: Bulgaria and Hungary in 1956, Romania in 1957. In Western Europe, it was legalized in England in 1967; many of the European countries followed within about the next 15 years. The consequences of this legal change were enormous: in 1995, in all of Europe, there were 7.7 million legally induced abortions, compared to 8.3 million births (Kertzer & Barbagli 2003, XXVI). In 1881, Bulgaria’s crude birth rate was over 35.1 per 1,000, at the end of WWII, in 1945, 24.1 per 1,000. Birth rate dropped from 25.2 in 1950 to 14.9 in 1966. Rapid urbanisation, forced agricultural collectivization and industrialization contributed to this decline. In 1967, abortion rate was already higher than the number of live births; birth rate declined from 25.2 per 1,000 (1950) to 15.0 (1967) (Table 17) (Vassilev 1999, 71p.). At the beginning of the 20th century, Romania’s birth rate was even higher than Bulgaria’s with close to 40 per 1,000 population. While the country had still one of the highest fertility rates per woman (3.17) in Central Eastern Europe in 1950, birth rate fell rapidly from 26.2 in 1950 to 14.3 in 1966 – the lowest at that time in Europe. The sharp decline was attributed to the then most liberal abortion law in Europe. In Romania in 1955, a decree modified the 1948 text, 132 Patriarchy after Patriarchy permitting abortion if the pregnancy presented a danger to the woman’s health. In 1957, abortion was legalized on request, following the Soviet example. Women could request abortion until up to three months of gestation. Bureau- cratic formalities were kept to a minimum. Doctors worked in shifts and were allowed to perform up to 10 abortions per day. After one year, in 1958, 129,500 abortions were registered, 578,000 in 1959. During the first six months of 1962, there were 14 abortions for every live birth at the Filantropia Hospital in Bucharest. The total abortion ratio increased to 3,997 abortions per 1,000 live births in 1965, the highest ratio ever reported officially from any country up to that time – 80% of all conceptions were terminated by abortion in 1965 (Table 18) (Baban 1999, 193p., 196).

Table 17: Births, Abortions, and Birth Rates, Bulgaria, 1950-1967

Year Live Births Total Abortions Birth Rates 1950 182,600 – 25.2 1955 151,000 19,100 20.1 1956 147,900 40,000 19.5 1957 141,000 46,200 18.4 1958 138,300 55,500 17.9 1960 140,100 74,900 17.8 1965 125,800 116,000 15.3 1966 123,000 121,100 14.9 1967 124,600 129,900 15.0 Source: Vassilev 1999, 72

Table 18: Births, Abortions, and Birth Rates, Romania, 1950-1966

Year Live Births Total Abortions Birth Rates 1950 426,800 – 26.2 1955 442,900 – 25.6 1956 425,700 – 24.2 1957 407,800 – 22.9 1958 390,500 129,500 21.6 1959 368,000 578,000 20.2 1960 352,200 769,800 19.1 1965 278,400 1,112,700 14.6 1966 273,700 973,400 14.3 Source: Baban 1999, 194 The Decline of Patriarchy 133

In the period 1960-90, the levels of legally induced abortions officially reported in Central-Eastern European countries were among the highest in the developed world. Only countries such as Japan in the early 1950s and Cuba since the mid- 1960s have experienced similarly high abortion rates. The failure to develop adequate provisions for modern contraceptives made women largely dependent on abortion. Soon after the new abortion laws were implemented, in the Soviet Union, for instance, large numbers of physicians started to work as full-time abortion providers. The control of the process was placed in the hands of the medical profession, whose discretion in implementing government policy was thus confirmed. Medical research tended to focus on the clinical advantages of particular abortion techniques rather than on the problem of how abortion can be replaced by contraception (Stloukal 1999, 25pp.). To ensure an expanding labour reserve, an increase in birth rate was considered essential. Beginning in the early 1960s, all Central-Eastern European countries began to encourage births by introducing pronatalist politics: prolonging paid maternity leave or raising family allowances, or both. Measures were also taken to make abortions more difficult to obtain. Measures adopted differed from country to country, depending on local culture and political mores. From the mid-1970s to the end of the 1980s, the Central-East European countries, except for countries such as Romania, Bulgaria, and Albania, returned to the more permissive policies allowing broad access to abortion. They concluded that it made more sense to adapt to the consequences of long-term demographic trends than to invest in trying to reverse them (Ibid. 26p.). Romania was the first socialist country that prohibited abortion except on medical grounds in November 1966. Availability of abortion on request was limited to women over 45 years of age, women with four or more children, women whose life was endangered by pregnancy or whose pregnancy resulted from rape or incest. Another law stipulated a range of penalties for physicians ignoring the law; they risked their licence and prison terms of up to 12 years. Self- induced abortion was punishable by imprisonment from six months to two years or with payment of a fine. At the same time, divorce was made more difficult. The early 1960s had been witnessing a steep rise in divorces, especially among younger couples. By 1965, the divorce rate per 1,000 population was 22% of the marriage rate of this year. According to a law stipulated in October 1966, obtaining a divorce required both a large filing fee (ranging from 3,000 to 5,000 Lei (US$ 170-280), depending on the income and a compulsory six-month period of trial reconciliation. The number of divorces fell from 37,000 in 1965 to 48 in 1967! Women who delivered and reared 10 or more children were awarded with the title of “Heroic Mother” (Baban 1999, 197pp.). In February 1973, the age of eligibility for legal abortion was reduced from 45 to 40, since the proportion of all live births in this age category was insignificant. In 1983, insertion of IUDs for medical reasons and surgical sterilization 134 Patriarchy after Patriarchy were prohibited. In December 1985, access to abortion was restricted to women over 45 years. Ceauúescu proclaimed, “The foetus is the socialist property of the whole society. Giving birth is a patriotic duty. Those who refuse to have children are deserters, escaping the law of natural continuity.” (Kligman 1998, 42). Factory physicians received their full monthly salaries only if plant em- ployees had achieved a state-stipulated monthly birth quota. Special taxes on monthly salaries of childless individuals over the age of 25 years, regardless of sex and marital status, originally introduced in 1977, were increased. After 1966, the import of contraceptives officially ceased (Baban 1999, 199p., 210). Between 1966 and 1989, 7,244 died from complications of clandestine abortions, an average of 76 women each year (David 1992, 13). The reaction of the population was marked by the abrupt reversals in official policy, especially as far as fertility is concerned. The liberalization of abortion did not change the fertility dynamics in Romania and Bulgaria. The restrictive measures against abortion in Romania only had a short-term effect, before the long-term trends returned. The population resisted the pro-natalist policies as long as they were in place. When strict regulations were introduced in 1966, the birth rate rose abruptly to 27.4 in 1967, but gradually declined again to 14.3 in 1983 (Baban 1999, 193). This process is reflected in Table 16. The regime had to continually battle with the population to raise the fertility rate. This means that the population very quickly adapted to the circumstances, reverting to clandestine or traditional practises, distancing themselves from the state goals. Thus, fertility at the end of the 1980s in Eastern Europe was not different from Western Europe (Blum 2003, 230p; Keil 1999, 488). As a direct outcome of socioeconomic policies imposed by the regime that infringed upon reproductive rights and limited the availability of medical and social services, approximately 100,000 children were placed either temporarily or permanently in the orphanage system by their destitute parents. Severely limited staff in these orphanages could not offer proper treatment, therapy, or education to the children. Together with unsanitary and crowded conditions, the results were unacceptably high rates of developmental disabilities, infectious diseases such as HIV, and high mortality rates. Ceauúsecu’s pronatalist policies were directly responsible for the increasing number of children with developmental and congenital disabilities. Stringent economic policies resulted in the scarcity of food, depriving pregnant women of adequate nutrition. Mal- nourished mothers were giving birth to low-birth-weight babies. By the early 1990s, Romania had the highest reported number of AIDS cases in Central and Eastern Europe. By December 1990, 1,168 cases had been reported; 93.7% out of these occurred in children younger than 13 years of age. Multiple therapeutic injections and micro-transfusions with reused needles were largely responsible for the high zero-prevalence rate. At that time, a single bottle of blood could be used to transfuse 10 to 20 children. At present, the greatest increase of HIV infection may be in women, but most AIDS cases continue to occur in five- to nine-year olds (Morrison 2004, 168-178; Blum 2003, 228p.). The Decline of Patriarchy 135

Table 19: Births, Abortions, and Birth Rates, Romania, 1966-1990

Year Live Births Abortions Birth Rates 1966 273,700 973,400 14.3 1967 527,800 205,800 27.4 1968 526,100 220,200 26.7 1969 465,800 257,500 23.3 1970 427,000 292,400 21.1 1980 398,900 413,100 18.0 1989 369,500 193,100 16.0 1990 314,700 992,300 13.6 Source: Baban 1999, 194p.

Pronatalist policy was also one of the main concerns of Albania’s communist regime. It was widely accepted because it reflected a traditional positive attitude towards births. Albania reported the youngest age structure in Europe with nearly 35% of the population below 15. In the years 1950-1980, the natural increase of population was about 2.4%, declining to 1.9% in the 1980s. The total fertility rate declined from 6.85 in 1960 to 3.03 in 1988 and 2.80 in 1991 – the highest in Europe. It decreased to 1.98 in 1994 before rising again to 2.32 in 1995 (Table 20). Declining infant and mortality rates accompanied this trend. The party encouraged high birth rates and rewarded those who gave birth to twelve or more children with the title of “Heroic Mother”. The only economic incentive was a one-time payment at the birth of the baby and a small stipend for unmarried mothers. This pronatalist policy relied on the lack of modern contraceptives and abortion services (Dymi & Pine 1999, 53-58).

Table 20: Births, Abortions, and Birth Rates, Albania, 1950-1995

Year Live Births Abortions Birth Rates 1950 47,300 – 38.9 1955 61,300 – 44.5 1960 69,700 – 43.4 1965 65,700 – 35.2 1970 69,500 – 32.5 1975 70,700 11,400 29.4 1980 70,700 15,900 26.5 1985 77,500 20,500 26.2 1990 82,100 26,100 25.2 1995 71,000 32,600 22.7 Source: Dymi & Pine 1999, 55p. 136 Patriarchy after Patriarchy

Abortion was banned in Albania, except for 30 strictly defined medical reasons. A woman performing an abortion herself without assistance was punished by a social reprimand or by re-education through work. Between 1944 and 1992, family planning could not be openly discussed. Contraception was little known. The import of contraceptives was prohibited. In 1981, condoms disappeared from pharmacies. Coitus interruptus remained the most practised method of fertility regulation (Ibid. 64). With the lack of information about contraception – around 1990, only less than 1% of women used contraceptives (David 1992, 14) – abortion was the traditional way of coping with unplanned pregnancies. There was a steady increase in the number of “provoked” (self- induced) and “therapeutic” (approved) abortions. Clinicians estimated that figures for such abortions were perhaps as high as 50% of all deliveries. In 1989, the Ministry of Health broadened the list of medical indications and in 1991 expanded them to over 200. During their reproductive years, some women had a dozen or more abortions. Abortions were most frequent in larger cities. In Tirana, the official estimate was a ratio of 900 abortions per 1,000 live births. A married woman required her husband’s approval (an unmarried woman theoretically the approval of her family) (Dymi & Pine 1999, 61p.). In Bulgaria, abortion for medically indicated reasons (serious diseases such as tuberculosis) was first permitted in 1936. After WWII, an amendment abolished the punishment of service providers and women having abortions in authorized medical institutions. In April 1956, abortion was further liberalized. It became allowed on request (up to 16 weeks and up to 24 weeks in medically or socially indicated cases). Until 1960, when a small tax was introduced, abortion was free. Since 1963, vacuum aspiration substituted gradually sharp curettage (Vassilev 1999, 75). The declining birth rate and an aging population caused anxiety that the labour force would diminish and it would become impossible to sustain high rates of economic growth. Finally, concerns about birth rate had a nationalist background, as the minorities in the country maintained higher levels of fertility. In a 1967 discussion on falling birth rates, party leader Todor Zhivkov pointed to the alleged threat posed by the Turkish minority as one of the reasons for the need to stimulate the fertility of the Bulgarian majority population (Brunnbauer & Taylor 2004, 299). On December 28, 1967, a special decree was published to encourage an increase of birth rate and reduce abortion. In 1968, family allowances were increased and restrictions on abortion for all married women with none or only one child introduced. The period in which abortions were allowed was reduced to 12 weeks. Abortion remained freely accessible only for women having three or more children or who were 45 or older. At the same time, positive fertility incentives were introduced by increasing payments for the third child. The new politics concentrated on second and third children. Bulgarian families were expected to have at least three children, Turkish and Gypsy families no more than three (Vassilev 1999, 76p.). The results of this intervention are reflected in Table 21. The Decline of Patriarchy 137

Table 21: Births, Abortions, and Birth Rates, Bulgaria, 1967-1990

Year Live Births Abortions Birth Rates 1967 124,600 129,900 15.0 1968 141,500 113,500 16.9 1969 143,100 129,700 17.0 1970 138,700 142,500 16.3 1980 128,200 156,100 14.5 1989 112,300 132,000 12.5 1990 105,200 144,600 11.7 Source: Vassilev 1999, 72p.

When it became clear that the pronatalist policy had failed, further restrictive measures were announced in 1973. Abortion was prohibited for all unmarried women, childless women, and women with only one child. To obtain an abortion, the presence of an approved medical indication had to be documented. Despite these limitations, specially authorized committees approved more than half of all requests. In 1973, a revised Family Code passed the National As- sembly: upon giving birth, mothers received 100 Leva (US$ 113) for the first child, 250 (US$ 283) for the second and 500 Leva (US$ 568) for the third child. For twins, the maximum benefit could be received. Monthly child allowances were introduced: five Leva for the first, 15 for the second, and 35 for the third child up to the age of 16 years. Pregnant women were entitled to 120 days maternity leave, 150 for the second, and 180 days for the third child. Additional incentives were state assistance employment, annual leave, and lower retirement age. A broad system of day-care centres was established. In 1981, birth rate declined while the abortion rate and ratio reached its peak. In 1984, a new measure was introduced to induce women to carry out pregnancies to term. Every pregnant woman was required to have an interview with a representative of the Women’s Organization. The fate of the pregnancy thus became a matter of public record. Modern contraceptives were not produced in the country. Pills were imported from GDR and Hungary, IUDs and condoms from Czechoslo- vakia. The supply was erratic. Coitus interruptus remained the most widely used method. The pronatalist policy until 1989 failed to achieve its goals. In- creases in birth rate were small and temporary (Vassilev 1999, 76pp.). Prior to the Penal Code of 1929, abortion was considered homicide and punished severely in Yugoslavia except in cases that involved unmarried women. The Penal Code allowed abortion only for strictly defined medical reasons to save life. A decree in 1951 accepted sociomedical indications as grounds for termination of unwanted pregnancy. A further decree in 1960 broadened the range of social indications, and abortions increased rapidly (Kapor-Stanulovic & David 1999, 296p.). The Federal Constitution of 1974 proclaimed, “it is a human right to decide freely on childbirth”. This right could be limited by me- 138 Patriarchy after Patriarchy dical reasons only. Except in Macedonia, this right was implemented through legislation in the constituent republics and autonomous provinces of the country. There was no requirement to obtain the partner’s consent at any age. In Macedonia, an abortion could be performed only if more than one year had elapsed since the previous termination. The costs of abortion and contraceptive counselling and supplies were covered by compulsory health insurance. Throughout Yugoslavia, except in Kosovo/Kosova, almost half of all pregnancies ended in abortion (1987): twenty-one per cent of live births in Macedonia, 30% in Bosnia-Herzegovina, 60% in Montenegro, and 113% in Serbia. In the late 1960s, contraceptive practise was least accepted in Kosovo/Kosova, where only 25% of 5,000 women aged 15-49 years acknowledged the use of any form of contraception. In 1990, oral contraceptives and IUDs were available only sporadically and then at very high cost. Coitus interruptus remained the preferred method. It was considered natural and well-suited to a culture in which traditional beliefs and attitudes remained interwoven; it supported the concept of an active male role and the passive-submissive role of women. In Mace- donia, oral contraceptives were preferred by 75% of women using contraceptives in 1994. Condoms were never widely accepted (Ibid. 297-304).

Table 22: Birth Rates, Greece, 1935-1999

1935 13.3 1940 11.7 1955 12.5 1960 11.6 1965 9.8 1970 8.1 1975 6.7 1980 6.3 1985 2.4 1990 0.9 1999 0.2 Source: Paxson 2004, 261p.

In Greece, birth rates have been already comparatively low since the interwar period. From 1967 to 1968, they dropped under 10.0. Since the 1980s, more pregnancies in Greece have resulted in abortion than in live birth, giving Greece what is purportedly the highest abortion rate in the EU and is considered by some as the preferred method of birth control. In 1986, the “technical interruption of pregnancy” was legalised on request before the completion of the 12th week of pregnancy. The dwindling fertility coexists with the lowest rate of oral contraceptive use in the EU. Greece has almost the lowest birth rate of the EU (see Table 22). Despite both private and state-sponsored efforts at The Decline of Patriarchy 139 family planning education, research suggests that Greeks generally have not significantly changed their contraceptive practises over the past several decades. Oral conceptive use on a national average of 5% (2000) is still the lowest in the EU, where over the past decade, the average rate has remained at about 35%. A survey conducted in Thessalonica in 1980 shows that 57.5% of the couples practised withdrawal and only 1.8% of women preferred the contraceptive Pill. Another survey in 1990 revealed that one third of married women had at least one abortion. Forty-four per cent of the population used withdrawal as a fertility regulation-method, 36.0% the condom, 9.3 the rhythm method; only 5.4% of the women used the Pill or IUDs (Paxson 2004, 3, 103, 107, 256; Hal- kias 2004, 41p., 159). A comparative analysis of the period 1983-97 shows that the number of women with three or more abortions has doubled from 9% to 18% (Halkias 2004, 160). In 1858, the Criminal Law of the Ottoman Empire, prohibiting abortion, which was strongly inspired by the Napoleonic Penal Code of 1810, was passed. Un- der this law, aiding or forcing a pregnant woman to use drugs or other means to abort was punishable by either imprisonment or hard labour. The striking features of abortion in the late 19th and early 20th century, however, appear to be the communality of the practise. It is a fact that among the population at large, this was not regarded as a moral issue; and sensitivity to abortion as a moral consideration among the leading Ottoman elite seems to have had its roots in European ethical and value systems. Ottoman authorities were concerned by the decline of the Muslim population in an ethnically and religiously mixed overall population. The government of the Turkish Republic continued the pronatalist policies of the Ottoman period. Many lives had been lost in previous wars, and even Istanbul suffered a loss of population. All evidence until the 1950s reflects the conventional assumption that the country was underpopu- lated. Under a law passed in 1930, both contraceptive devices and abortions were made illegal. By the 1960s, however, the situation had changed, and population growth began to be regarded not as a source of national strength but rather as the fundamental cause of many economic and social problems. The discussion in the 1960s moved between “population politics” and “family politics”. In 1965, the decision was for “family politics”. Every family should decide how many children to have. Views against legalizing abortion came mainly from the centre to right political parties. Within Islamic doctrine itself, contraception and abortion have been subject to various interpretations, resulting in no clear-cut single position. Official Islamic views on contraception and abortion in the 20th century secular Turkey have focused on children’s rights, motherhood, and gender power relations. An important reason why the Islamic position has not opposed family planning practises has been the emphasis in many Koranic verses and the hadith on good child rearing. These verses stress the point that it is neither a virtue nor an asset to have many children without the resources to feed them (Gürsoy 1996, 532-535). 140 Patriarchy after Patriarchy

Abortion up to the eighth week of pregnancy was finally legalized in 1982. The law considers family planning a family issue and contains the restriction of making married women have their husband’s permission before proceeding with abortion. Today, the platform of radical discussion has shifted to evaluat- ing the importance of individual women in making this reproductive choice. Turkish feminists have criticized the abortion law because it was passed without adequate public discussion. They argue that the law neither was passed as a response to demands by women for reproductive freedom and control over their bodies, nor was it the result of lobbying by non-governmental agencies. Instead, they hold that it only served as legal backing for the government’s scheme to promote large-scale voluntary population control. As such, policy makers were criticized for advocating population policy at the expense of women’s health. Above all, what is considered the law’s most serious setback is the restricted access to abortion services for women, particularly the requirement that married women have their spouses’ consent. The law is considered as giving legal sanction to conservative patriarchal values (Ibid. 531, 536). The two decades from about 1950 to 1970 were a period of rapid social transformation hitherto unknown in its rapidity in Eurasia Minor’s history. Espe- cially remarkable was the change in the socialist countries. Backward agrarian societies were transformed into industrial ones under socialist guidance; internal rural-urban migration took place at a breathtaking tempo; equality of men and women and children’s rights against the patriarch’s arbitrariness became cornerstones of reformed family laws. Turkey and Greece were also caught by this wave of social transformation that began to roll in the middle of the 20th century, although at a lesser speed. The ideal socialist man and woman were considered free from patriarchal oppression. No doubt, the establishment of the socialist state resulted in a heavy blow to traditional patriarchy: wage labour in industry made sons economically independent from their fathers, wives independent from their husbands; inheritance lost its function as the economic backbone of patrilineality; new residence patterns upon marriage began to be increasingly practised. Socialist ideology considered the agrarian population, though transformed into quasi-labourers on collectivized land, as remnants of the past; the future was laid into the hands of the industrial worker. Although the attack on patriarchy was a comprehensive process that affected society on various levels, time was too short and internal migration too massive for the fast growing cities to be able to separate the rural immigrants from their traditional past. Urbanization took on the form of “rurbanization” – a complex process of hybridization of urban and rural lifestyles. The socialist state represented a radical interventionist system. The Party organization was eager to have every village and apartment block under control. Turkey and Greece had remained much more tributary, except, maybe, for the periods of militarily interventions (Turkey 1960-61; 1971; 1980-83; Greece 1967-1974). One of the most important components of patriarchal gender relations had been almost uncontrolled fertility. Data from the interwar period do- The Decline of Patriarchy 141 cument that people already increasingly practised fertility control, although by applying traditional methods. Modern contraceptives were not available or too expensive; the law except for a few cases of medical indication forbade abortion. Turkey forbade fertility control as well as abortion in 1930. When most of the socialist states – consequently pursuing their policy of formal gender equality – allowed abortion and provided the necessary infrastructure, an abortion boom set in and within about one decade, abortion rates had become higher than rates of life births. At about the same time, Turkey’s natural population increase reached its peak and the Turkish government changed its three decades old pronatalist politics into a politics of family planning by suggesting coitus interruptus. Alarming abortion rates in the socialist states ended up causing pronatalist politics, and the socialist state and the Party discovered their role as patriarchs and protectors of the family. Pronatalist policy, thus, became a decisive obstacle to the liberation of women. The socialist state introduced many measures to make motherhood attractive, but this could not eliminate the double burden in women’s lives. Socialist Romania is an extreme example. The emphasis on the role of women as mothers reinforced the still strong patriarchal values of Romanian society, thus helping guarantee their continued subordination to men in the household and in the larger society. In many important respects, Ceauúescu’s vision of the ideal socialist family stressed traditional, patriarchal, Orthodox, peasant, and “Romanian” values. In this value system, women were subordinated to men and functioned primarily as mothers. The socialist state and the Party were interested in women as mothers and as child bearers for the nation. Public patriarchy took on the shape of state patriarchy.

2. State Patriarchy and State Feminism

“The practise of abortion is both an antinational and antisocial act and an im- pediment to the normal development of our population… It is necessary to introduce the most perfect order and discipline with respect to the application of the existing laws and regulations pertaining to the interruptions of pregnancy.” (Decision of the Political Executive Committee of the Central Commit- tee of the Romanian Communist Party, 1985) (Kligman 1998, 42)

The young communist regimes had promised to revolutionize a conservative agrarian society. Equality and justice on all relevant levels, as well as economic relations free of exploitation, – with the Party as intermediary between divergent interests – were intended to be established. The former “expropriators” had to be eliminated and were substituted by “pure” proletarians. In order to facilitate the projects aimed at radical change, the young communist governments needed first to destroy the institutions, norms, and values of the “bour- 142 Patriarchy after Patriarchy geois” society. The interventionist state thus took aim at traditional family structures. The liberalization of abortion and of access to divorce constituted direct assaults on the solidarity of the traditional family, attacking the hierarchical ordering of authority between generations and gender. The intent was to disrupt the familiar social order and create a mobile labour force consisting of individuals unconstrained by family ties or “tradition” (Kligman 1998, 23). The regime that aimed at the destruction of patriarchal relations took over important decisions for the “immature” men and women of the emerging family state. The Romanian Family Code stated, “In the Socialist Republic of Romania, the state shall protect marriage and the family; it shall support the development and strengthening of family through economic and social measures. The state shall defend the interests of mother and child... A man and woman have equal rights” (Ibid. 26). As soon as the regimes recognized that its female population took advantage of abortion and divorce in abundance, they changed their attitudes, seeing the human resources for mega-projects in establishing heavy industry in danger. The socialist state began in a way to behave like a traditional patriarch and took measures for the revitalization of the family as the basic social institution. It allowed or forbade divorce, abortion, and fertility control. It took care of the building of apartments, organized yearly vacations, and the foetus became considered the property of the patriarchal community. Patriar- chal state and paternalistic party substituted traditional patriarchal community. State patriarchy, thus, became an alternative model to a project that had been running in the region already for a decade or so, namely state feminism in Tur- key. What were similar in both projects were the top-down approach and the elimination of genuine women’s movements. The difference lies in the higher degree of radicalism of socialist state patriarchy, which was indirectly achieved by enforced industrialization. In this sub-chapter, three facets of state patriarchy and state feminism will be discussed. After an introduction about the character of socialist state patriarchy, the way in which the so-called “women’s question” under state feminism and state patriarchy was officially resolved is discussed; this is followed by a short history of independent women’s movements and their elimination by the socialist and Kemalist state; and finally, an analysis of the emergence of alternatives to kinship networks concludes this chapter. The socialist state entered the stage by promising the destruction of traditional values and norms. As soon as it changed into the form of a patriarchal state, it showed few ambitions of putting particular emphasis on changing gender roles within the family. Once the dynamics of gender equality within the family had been formalized in legal statutes and expounded in official propaganda, the state did not follow these up. The legacy of patriarchal relations, therefore, was not significantly altered and was even further exacerbated by the paternalist structure of the socialist state. The contradictions inherent in women’s roles as (re)producers for and of the socialist state, as well as for and of the patriarchal family, necessarily gave rise to a blurring between the public and the private The Decline of Patriarchy 143 sphere of daily life. Ironically, contradictions in men’s roles also emerged; the nationalization of property and the banning of abortion challenged men’s patriarchal property including their “rights” to the sexual and reproductive lives of their wives, which the paternalist state expropriated by fiat. Besides that, the state usurped the prerogatives of the traditional patriarchal family by claiming them for itself. The notion of woman’s equality was foreign to everyday practise, for it violated traditional patriarchal norms (Kligman 1998, 25pp; Drezgiü 2004, 109p.). Socialist regimes considered, in not only a metaphorical sense, society as family, and the Party as father. Socialist society was conceptualized as a classical patriarchal household. The result was a patriarchal household-state, which eta- tized even birth and the foetus. The female body became an instrument of the reproduction constraints of the state, like the reproduction of patrilineality in agrarian society. Socialism redistributed male and female roles in the household, socialized considerable parts of reproduction, and took over certain functions of the patriarch. The public intervention altered the borders of private- public, and reproduction became part of the public sphere. The socialist family was directed by the wise father – the Party and its leader. In addition, women were considered dependent on a paternalistic regime that took decisions in the interest “of the whole family” (Verdery 2001, 141-161) – not only in a metaphorical way. Socialism under Ceauúescu for instance, became known as “socialism under one family”. PCR was the acronym for the Romanian Commu- nist Party. People joked about a more subtle meaning of PCR: “Petrescu, Ceauúescu úi Rudele” (Petrescu, Ceauúescu, and relatives). Petrescu was Elena Ceauúescu’s maiden surname. The symbolic equivalence between the formal acronym and its unofficial sibling referred to the holding of important political positions by extended family members. The PCR operated like a traditional community. Mothers in the patriarchal family were generally powerful within the household, and their authority increased with age. So it was to be with Ele- na Ceauúescu. Paradoxically, Ceauúescu brought village values to bear upon the organization of the Party and the state; at the same time, he planned the extinction of the village social organization. Crudely put, Ceauúescu transposed peasant family organization to the level of state sociodemographic plans. The number of children decreed mandatory before women were eligible for legal abortion reproduced the peasant norms of four or five children per family characteristic of pre-WWII Romania. Paternalism generalized the dependency relations experienced by women and children in the patriarchal family (Kligman 1998, 30p.). As a social institution, the family was reified in ideological campaigns as the archetypical metaphor of the social order itself. Despite lip service about the virtues of the family, the pre-eminence of the state was never left in doubt. Ultimately, it fell to the state to socialize families into new “socialist families”. The traditional peasant family was destined for extinction. This was to be replaced by loyalty to the “family of the nation” and selfless labour on behalf of 144 Patriarchy after Patriarchy the paternalist state. In addition to reproducing labour force, extended family relations could partially relieve problems resulting from inadequate childcare facilities and homes for the elderly. For example, grandparents frequently served as childcare providers. Daughters-in-law took care of the aged and the in- capacitated. The paternalist state in part expressed its power through the elabo- ration of a discourse, and related set of practises centred on “the family”. Citi- zens of the socialist state were treated as if they were children who benefited from the care of their parents, and particularly from the wise guidance of the pater familias (Ibid. 28pp.). Party leaders seem to have taken the kinship- familial metaphor literally, believing that “father knows best”. The patriarchal and at the same time interventionist character of the socialist regimes revealed itself on different levels, on the one hand. On the other hand, “ordinary” historical actors were not just unwilling puppets of the socialist regimes. One of the interventionist methods was the confiscation of houses and apartments, which had, according to official calculations done by the state, too much living space for the domestic group. This was supposed to not only relieve the burden on the housing sector, but also weaken existing kinship bonds. There were two methods of limitation imposed on the ability of domestic groups to control their houses and the people who had access to them: (1) nationalization, which included the total suspension of property rights. The Ro- manian Party for instance, declared that this was necessary in order to “with- hold from the hands of the exploiters an important means of exploitation” (Chelcea 2003, 727). The larger the family was and the stronger its ability to keep a high demographic profile throughout the socialist period, the better were its chances to avoid the imposition of new tenants (Ibid. 728). On the one hand, this kept the family together. On the other hand, the new political constellation could lead to completely reorganized family and kinship relations. “Bourgeois” ascents were obscured and relations strengthened with kin to whom one could distribute property in pre-mortem inheritance, because they were “proletarian”. In this way, both actors could take advantages out of the newly established situation. (2) Former owners had to accept tenants as co-residents, which were usually non-kin. What kind of social relations were established with tenant families placed into households by the state, with those who had shared a house, an apartment, or even the same room for many years? The tenants paid rent to the former owners. They were not simply considered intruders inside the domestic space. Accounts of former owners suggest that at various moments, tenants participated in the domestic process, were considered household members with moral obligations, or were even considered as kin (Ibid. 714-723). The Communist Party behaved like the patriarch of a multiple household confederation. Some principles of traditional kinship organization were directly incorporated, some principles were reformulated. The genealogical principle was kept alive, but in a selected way. “Bad” (“bourgeois”) relations were obscured. Families with (ideologically) good ancestorship took over the positions in state, party, and administration. Since many things did not function via tradi- The Decline of Patriarchy 145 tional descent and genealogical bonds, alternative networks boomed. Mutatis mutandis, Turkey and Greece were no exceptions; formal democracy, however, made things a bit more difficult.

The “Women’s Question” and Its Official Resolution

After the communists had taken over power, their respective governments passed laws that should have guaranteed the equality of men and women. Aside that, Balkan socialist regimes understood emancipation as participation of women in paid employment. In order to achieve this goal, women had to be re- lieved of household responsibilities that were thought to become public ones. Employment was supposed to liberate women from forced marriage and dependency on men. The most obvious result of this commitment was an almost equal participation of women and men in the labour force. Even in the previously most backward south-eastern European country, Albania, almost half of all women were employed in 1989. The increase in employment was linked to dramatic improvements in education. However, much of the progress under communism remained contradictory. Proclamations of gender equality never corresponded to social reality. Patriarchal values and structures were not eradicated, but the family patriarch was replaced by the authoritarian state. In some respects, socialist gender-politics even laid the ground for future discrimination against women after the breakdown of communism. Probably the most obvious failure was that the private domain of gender relations remained virtually untouched. Nearly all women worked outside the home, and had to care for their families at the same time. The double burden was aggravated by the common scarcity of goods as well as by the insufficiency of public facilities for childcare. Therefore, women were in a weak situation to face the dramatic changes caused by the dissolution of the socialist rule, because they lacked political as well as social and economic resources to defend or improve their position (Brunnbauer 2004a, 220-224). The figures on inclusion of women into national labour forces are impressive. In Albania, the participation of women in labour force in industry grew rapidly between 1960 and 1990 from 27.8% to 44.5%. The jump between 1960 and 1970 from 27.8% to 44.2% of the industrial labour force is remarkable. This was accompanied, however, by a higher participation in agricultural labour as reflected in Table 23. The massive employment of women after WWII and in the 1950s changed the status of Albanian women. The Communist Party supported the long-held concept of the sacredness of the family. It accepted traditional patriarchal values and added love as element for the foundation of solid families (Dymi & Pine 1999, 57). 146 Patriarchy after Patriarchy

Table 23: Women’s Participation in Labour Force in Industry and Agriculture, Albania, 1960-1990

Year Industry Agriculture 1960 27.8 43.8 1970 44.2 52.8 1980 43.6 52.2 1990 44.5 52.2 Source: Falkingham & Gjonça 2001, 317

In socialist Yugoslavia, official ideology underlined the importance of gender equality, regardless of the fact that this was only at the surface. The first family law of the former Yugoslavia (1946) was a copy of the Bolshevik declaration of policy on women made at the First International Conference of Working Women in Moscow in 1920. The essential goals of the statement were to bring women out of the home into the working world, to end the traditional household organization that kept women in subservience, to provide equal educational opportunities for women, to mobilize them into political work, and to provide adequate working conditions to satisfy the particular needs for women (Andjeljkovic 1998, 235). In the period between 1952 and 1959 in Yugoslavia, the number of women aged 16-60 in public labour doubled to 14% of the total labour force. In the decades to follow, the proportion of the female industrial labour force increased out of proportion to the male and reached 34.7% (44% in Slovenia, 20% in Kosovo/Kosova) (Kaser 1995, 429). Women in theory had the same rights as men; yet in practise, they were still overwhelmingly responsible for domestic duties. The Yugoslav authorities took the fact that the rate of employed women was high as a parameter of development. For this reason, women’s issues never came to the focus of serious academic study. Hidden discrimination against women was widespread. Increased numbers of educated women led to the feminization of low-paid professions in health and social services. Over the years, wage labour became sharply divided into male and female sectors. Salaries were also divided, regardless of the similar qualifica- tions of females and males. In late 1980s, the distance between the genders deepened. A study conducted in 1990 proved that women were concentrated at the bottom of the income pyramid. Eighty-five per cent of women were classified as low-income earners, whereas 75% of the men fell into the high-income category (Ibid. 235pp.). After the arrival of the Soviet troops in Bulgaria in 1944, the new government passed a law proclaiming the equality of men and women. A large proportion of women became industrial workers. The figures on female participation in the Bulgarian industrial labour force are impressive. As reflected in Table 24, a- bout half of Bulgaria’s industrial labour force was female in 1988: The Decline of Patriarchy 147

Table 24: Rate of Female Employment, Bulgaria, 1952-1988 (in per cent of Labour Force)

Year Total Economy Industry 1952 25.8 27.8 1956 27.7 30.3 1960 33.5 36.3 1965 39.0 38.9 1970 43.3 44.7 1975 46.5 47.8 1980 47.1 47.6 1985 48.1 48.1 1988 49.9 49.4 Source: Brunnbauer 2006

The model of full female employment did not solve the problems of women’s emancipation in Bulgaria either. Gender conflicts were constantly reproduced. The most significant reason was the difficulty of combining full-time employment with women’s family duties. The “feminine” pathos of official propaganda helped to keep women in their place. Communist society, despite the rhetoric of emancipation, preserved the traditional perception of women as caring mothers and housewives. In the socialist era, gender equality was honoured more in the occupational sphere than in the political arena. With the abolition of quotas for women after 1989, their representation diminished. With the economic crisis of the 1980s, women’s positions were for the first time apparently seriously jeopardized. Women failed to manifest their dissatisfaction with inequality. The Party-related feminist movement failed to turn into a serious force (Kostova 1998, 237, 250, 258). High standards of education of both men and women became one of the primary goals of the socialist governments. A university degree reduced the importance of a dowry and increased the chances for a secure job. In 1946, elementary education became compulsory, in 1947, a literacy program was insti- tuted for all men and women under the age of 40, and in 1952, compulsory schooling was extended to seven years. By 1955, illiteracy had been eradicated among those under the age of 40. Also in the 1950s, women gained access to higher education. By the early 1990s, slightly more women than men earned university degrees, and 38% of the employed women had higher education. More and more women attained a better education and delayed marriage. In 1950 in Albania, nearly half of the women married at the age of 19 or younger. By the 1990s, 56% of women married at the age 20 to 24; only one fifth of the women aged 19 years or younger were married. Table 25 reflects this (Dymi & Pine 1999, 57). In the primarily Albanian inhabited province of Kos- ovo/Kosova, women’s illiteracy could be reduced, but not abolished: the fe- 148 Patriarchy after Patriarchy male illiteracy rate in 1948 was 78.4% and still 26.3% in 1981 (Rrapi 2003, 131).

Table 25: Females Among University Students, Albania (in percent, 1960- 1990)

Year Albanian Females in Higher Education 1960 16.6 1970 32.5 1980 49.6 1990 51.3 Source: Falkingham & Gjonça 2001, 317

One of the major steps of the Ottoman reforms had been the extension of educational opportunities for girls from the middle of the 19th century. High schools and teacher-training colleges were opened in Istanbul and in other big cities. Before WWI, the University of Istanbul offered lectures for women several days a week in a separate hall on selected subjects. The unification of education was among the first major reforms of the young Republic. The adoption of the Latin alphabet, the reform in attire, and finally the adoption of the Swiss Civil Code based on the limited equality of sexes (1926) constitute milestones in Turkey’s modernization. The Islamic state became seemingly history; religious and political spheres clearly were separated. Islam was put under control of the state. Women’s emancipation was considered part of the project of westernization (Aslan 1996, 981-984). The Kemalist world-view enabled Turkish women to be visible in the public realm, strengthened their position within the traditional family, and defined them as the comrades of men in the workplace. This top-down emancipation might be termed “state feminism”. The crucial thing about it was that state feminism became one of the major obstacles to the development of feminist consciousness among women in Turkey until the 1980s. Women’s position in the private realm was actually almost never questioned, nor was the individuality and sexuality of women made an issue. The liberal feminist stand dominated the public discourse, on the one hand, and the conservative values characterized gender relations in the private realm, on the other hand. The result of this ambivalence has been a considerable dichotomy between the legal- constitutional and the real positions of women in modern Turkey (Ibid. 984p.). Although the republican government’s policies led to considerable progress in certain areas, they fell short of achieving gender equality. The argument here is that Kemalism was limited in its intentions about the change in women’s social and gender roles and sought progress only to the level that had prevailed in the West where the female was still the “second sex”. Thus, Kemalism resulted in The Decline of Patriarchy 149 improvements in education and the acquisition of finer skills in order to make women’s contribution as better wives and more efficient mothers. Turkey lacked both a sizable bourgeois and industrial working class – thus its small, apolitical female labour force could not absorb women’s rights. Kemalism’s state feminism, therefore, fell short not only of having a national impact but also of bringing about full liberation. As it denied class conflicts, it ignored the notion of gender domination. The major accomplishment of the Civil Law of 1926 was the establishment of state control over the institution of the family but at the same time male dominance in marriage was confirmed: man was conceptualized as the head of the union of marriage, and the right and responsibility of deciding the place of residence belonged to the husband. It was also the husband’s responsibility to provide for his wife and children. As their guar- dian, the father had the right to benefit from the individual income of his children and to keep the extra income (after the needs of the children have been met) for himself. The wife could take a job or engage in a craft only upon the “explicit or implicit permission” of the husband. The husband, on the other hand, could require his wife to contribute to the family budget to “a reasonable extent”. Upon marriage, the wife had to assume the husband’s family name and was held responsible for taking care of the house (Arat 1994, 57, 59, 64). Treat- ing women as a symbol and tool of modernization and westernization, rather than equal and full partners of men, the Kemalist reforms intended to achieve little in changing women’s lot (Ibid. 73pp.).

Table 26: Literacy Rates by Sex in Turkey, 1927-1975 (ages six and higher)

Year Male Female Difference 1927 17.4 4.6 12.8 1935 29.3 9.8 19.5 1940 33.9 11.2 22.7 1945 41.9 18.1 23.8 1950 47.1 20.1 27.0 1955 55.6 25.6 30.0 1960 53.6 24.8 28.8 1965 64.0 32.8 31.2 1970 69.0 40.0 29.0 1975 75.1 48.1 26.8 Source: Özbay 1982, 135

This is also reflected by data on the formal education of men and women. The interesting point about Turkey is that its literacy differential of 35% was one of the highest in the world in the 1970s. In 1970, 40% of the women were literate as opposed to 75% of the men; in 1975, the relation was 48% and 80%, respectively. Latin American and Far Eastern countries of about the same level of 150 Patriarchy after Patriarchy development did not display such enormous differentials as Turkey (Kandiyoti 1982, 111). The Turkish state has been deficient in the provision of literacy and education, especially for girls. Between 1975 and 1985, the illiterate female population declined from 49% to 32%, but reduction of male illiteracy was much steeper, from 24% to 13%. By the end of the 1990s, the illiteracy rate of women over age 15 had declined to 25%; the male rate was only 7% (Mogha- dam 2003, 56). In the southern and south-eastern provinces, female illiteracy goes up to 48.35% (1998) (International Helsinki Federation for Human Rights 2000, 444p.). According to data on labour force participation in the period between 1950 and 1975, a trend is clearly observable. Female labour force participation, which was relatively high at the beginning of this period, was steadily decreasing (Table 27) (Özbay 1982, 135).

Table 27: Labour Force Participation of Turkish Population (ages 15 and higher), 1950-1975

Year Male Female Difference 1950 95.3 81.5 13.8 1955 95.6 72.2 23.4 1960 93.9 65.5 28.1 1965 92.1 56.7 35.4 1970 74.9 45.3 29.6 1975 66.6 37.0 29.6 Source: Özbay 1982, 135

In the Caucasus, the new Soviet government adopted legislation during the early 1920s, establishing civil marriage, easy divorce, abortion services, maternity pay, and childcare facilities. All restrictions on women’s freedom of movement were abolished, while laws were adopted that gave women equal rights to hold land, to act as heads of households, to participate as full members in rural communes, and later to be paid as individuals for collective farm labour. However, formal legal equality did not translate into real equality in gender relations in the private or public spheres as women, labouring under the “double burden”, continued to be responsible for nearly all domestic chores in addition to working outside the home. The peasant household was seen as the very embodiment of tradition and backwardness and the bearer of counterrevolutionary values. One of the approaches was the “in depth” approach, which aimed at undermining the traditional social order as to destroy family structures and the kinship system. The overarching goal of the Soviet state was not so much to liberate women, but to organize them as a political and economic force The Decline of Patriarchy 151 that would become workers in the industrialized economy (Ishkanian 2003, 478p.). In Armenia, the party identified the traditional family as a backward institution and sought to transform it by dismantling family loyalties. Selected representatives would visit homes and give women “scientific” advice on how to raise children and on simple rules of hygiene. These delegates would also try to establish rapports with the children of the household and encourage them to report cases of child and wife beating, and forced marriages, which had immense potentialities for disrupting traditional family patterns. However, this had the paradoxical effect of strengthening family and kinship networks: the family became not only a mode of resistance to the state, but remained as the primary means of identification, support, and advancement throughout the Soviet period (Ibid. 479p.). On the surface, it appears that women of the Soviet Union had accomplished an impressive level of emancipation by the late 1980s. Education is one area in which state socialism deserves undeniable credit. Free universal primary education was introduced in the 1930s, universal eight-year education in the 1950s, and universal secondary education in the 1970s. There was universal literacy among women, and women were generally even slightly better educated than men. In the late 1980s, women constituted 61% of the specialists with higher or secondary education and 54% of the students in higher educational establishments. Despite these educational and professional achievements, however, women continued to endure the dreaded double burden as they fulfilled quotas in the factories and farms and tended to their families and homes. In Central Asia in particular, the double burden was more onerous owing to the prevalence of large families (Ibid. 481p.). In 1930, Stalin declared the “women’s question” in the Caucasus to be resolved (Ibid, 480); in 1934 Atatürk, and in the late 1940s, the socialist governments in the region did the same. For all of them, legal equality, the integration of women into industrial labour force, and their integration into the education system had resolved the burdensome women’s issue. I think they really believed that. Gender relations were not considered an important political problem at that time. Feminist movements had not yet brought their profile to the public; men thought they had been able to solve a little problem, whereas they had to solve problems of more importance: the future of the state, the nation, and the integ- rity of their respective ideology, was it capitalist or socialist. The women’s question, they thought, was easy to solve and so were traditional patriarchal relationships. The only problem was that they were part of the patriarchal system, and not a few of the leading figures were deeply convinced of female infe- riority. Women’s suffrage to the national parliament as well as access to the labour market was granted, so what else could they desire? Women’s movements wanted more but were curtailed by a male-dominated state and a male- dominated political party. 152 Patriarchy after Patriarchy

Women’s Movements

The first women’s movements in the world had arisen in the Americas, in Oce- ania, and in Europe; it was pioneered here by Britain and was growing most strongly in Scandinavia. An International Council of Women had been launched in Washington DC in 1888, which by 1890 had comprised eleven national councils, from Norway to New Zealand and from Canada to Argentina. Wo- men’s issues were high on the agenda of Indian modernists (Therborn 2006, 19). Women in Eurasia Minor began to organize themselves; they fought for equal access to education and their right to vote. Their battle within the framework of deep-rooted patriarchal society was a heavy task, and, therefore, their aims had to be modest compared to women’s movements in the West. In the Ottoman Empire, the gathering of a group of Muslim women in the streets was forbidden. There were severe restrictions on women’s use of public transport. The first Muslim actress to emerge on stage was detained by the police. After 1908, when the Young Turks were in power, numerous women’s organizations were founded. Among the “radicals” was, for instance the “Soci- ety for the Defence of the Rights of Ottoman Women”. It had similar claims as modern women’s movements in Europe (Aslan 1996, 982). The Kemalist reform of gender relations was paternalistic. There were no loud voices for the right to vote before 1934, when it was introduced. The “Turkish Women’s Union” (Türk Kadınlar Birli÷i), an organization of intellectual women founded in 1924, did not press consequently for the right to vote. The Un- ion disbanded itself in 1935, claiming that with the granting of the right to vote for women, there was no need to defend further the rights of women (in reality it was abolished by the regime) (Aslan 1996, 984). In fact, Turkish women achieved suffrage more than a decade before women in the Balkan countries. However, this was the end of an autonomous women’s movement. A generation of women, which was more related to Kemalism than to feminism, turned away from feminism because education offered them relatively elite positions. Women’s associations founded between 1950 and 1970 fought only for the defence of already existing rights (Tekeli 1991, 40p.). The Turkish state gave women rights still radical in Muslim context for that time. However, these reforms by the “feminist” state did not evolve because of demands originating from within society, but were imposed from above. The state’s ideal of the modern republican woman left out the majority of women beyond a small urbanized elite. The reforms represented only the vision of Kemal Atatürk and the values and interests of a small group of urban, middle- class citizens. The republican state determined the characteristics of the ideal woman and set up a monopolistic system to propagate this ideal in a population that held often quite different values and perceptions of the ideal women’s behaviour. The ideal republican woman was a “citizen woman”, urban, socially The Decline of Patriarchy 153 progressive, but also uncomplaining and dutiful at home. Modernity, as defined by the Turkish state, included marriage and children as a national duty for women. Marriage was to be companionate rather than contractual and segregated, and children were to be raised “scientifically” by mothers educated in the latest western childrearing and household techniques. Beyond that, state feminism did not concern itself with what happened behind the closed doors of the home. The welfare and duties of women were discussed almost exclusively as attributes of the national ideal (White 2003, 145p.). The republican reformers had come from a social class that was already in the Ottoman Empire the urban and middle class. These families had begun to westernize long before the Republic in the 19th century, developing an urban lifestyle of nuclear families with western domestic manners and an emphasis on the “science” of household management, hygiene, and child rearing. Standards of health and beauty became Europeanized. The republican woman was, by definition, a bourgeois urban woman as well as a symbol of the state. State feminism was concerned primarily with women’s public emancipation, but little concerned with their private lives as women. This explains the great emphasis placed on such public symbols as clothing, architecture, and the visibility of women in the public sphere. Dress became a cornerstone of Turkey’s state feminism. The republican government banned the fez for men altogether, encouraging them to wear hats. It became illegal to display religious insignias in public. Headscarves and veils were banned only on official premises, however, including schools and civil service offices, and were tolerated elsewhere, although discouraged. The headscarf had begun to be associated with a rural, rather than urban lifestyle. By the time the Republic was founded, urban middle-class women, at least in Istanbul, already had begun to discard the veil; republican women were encouraged to attend universities and to obtain professional degrees. Between 1920 and 1938, 10% of all university graduates were women. Kemal’s adoptive daughter, Sabiha Gökçen, upon his encouragement became Turkey’s first military avia- tor. Two things, however, circumscribed republican women’s activism and autonomy: conservative morality and the requirement to remain true to the state’s modernizing projects and state interests. Despite the enormous changes and new opportunities for women, Turkish society was socially and sexually conservative, even in the cities. Women’s highest duty was considered to be motherhood. Marriage meant becoming a responsible citizen; choosing not to marry was seen an egocentric act, amoral and irresponsible; motherhood became a patriotic duty (Ibid. 146-154). Life for the majority of Turkish women in the towns and villages was quite different from that in Istanbul and Ankara. Until the massive rural-urban migration beginning in the 1950s, headscarves were associated with peasant life. Upwardly mobile conservative women who felt left out the republican ideal, challenged this but were unwilling to westernize in order to be accepted as 154 Patriarchy after Patriarchy modern and middle-class. These contradictions were the foundation for heated present-day debates in Turkey about whether or not veiled women can take their places as elected officials in parliament, as university students and professors, as well as doctors and nurses (Ibid. 155). Thus, Turkey went into a “patriarchal bargain” in which submissiveness and obedience were rewarded with security, stability, and respect. Turkish women were passive in order to strengthen their claim to security. It took decades for Kemal’s reforms to reach the countryside, to build the necessary institutions and train the personnel (Ibid. 156p.). Officially, the Kemalist state had resolved the women’s question. Actually, it remained unresolved for the overwhelming majority of the female population. Kemalist state feminism was from the very beginning a bourgeois project for the country’s urban elite. This concept si- lenced the women’s movement. The majority of the female population had no voice until the Islamist movement formulated their alleged or real needs. After the foundation of the Greek national state (1830), a series of male/female hegemonic relationships evolved, manifesting themselves through customary laws, ordinances, infractions, and arbitrary acts, thereby manifesting the traditional subordination of Greek women and preventing them from advancing any individual or gender rights. In addition, because of the very high rates of female illiteracy and the lack of experience in dealing with the world outside their home, women were in an unfavourable situation. Women of the urban petit-bourgeoisie and professional middle classes, mainly schoolteachers, formed the first feminist collective in Greece. Developed around a widely cir- culated weekly, the “Ladies’ Newspaper” (Efimeris ton Kyrion), the first wave of Greek feminists fought during three decades (1887-1917), for equal educational rights and professional opportunities, civil and, to a lesser extent, political rights. But most of all, the newspaper fought to develop women’s confi- dence in the self-emancipation and to persuade male public opinion that gender equality was a necessary condition for the fulfilling of national destinies. Na- tionalism provided feminists with arguments in favour of women’s emancipation, but also with a model for the construction of collective identity that marked both the critical potential and the limitations of early Greek feminism. Situated within the logic of nationalism, feminists gained an unexpected audi- ence and became an important component of the public sphere at the beginning of the 20th century. The newspaper attained a stable readership of 5,000 and a wide network of correspondents throughout Greece and the communities of the Diaspora. The Greek feminist movement, however, collapsed during WWI. While the majority of its members actively supported Greek participation in the war, and sometimes the imperialist projects of the Greek government, the newspaper’s editor, Callirhoi Parren, was exiled in 1917 for her pacifist convic- tions. Parren was the first female victim of political deportation law, introduced in 1915 (Varikas 1993, 272, 280p.). The Decline of Patriarchy 155

After the destruction of women’s movement during WWI, the objectives were broadened in the interwar period and women’s rights not only within the family, but also within society, were included. The Greek exodus of 1922-23 from Anatolia became a moving and dynamic force toward changing the economic, social, and political map of Greece. The repatriated Greek women were more advanced in the trade and craft industry; and many became leaders in labour and union movements, which ultimately aided the mainland Greek women. Several reactionary laws enacted in the early 1930s made their choice of work contingent upon their fathers or husbands’ approval. Feminist organizations such as the Association of Women’s Rights (1920) and the National Council of Women (1923) were founded. Their objectives were to institutionalize equality primarily in the areas of education, work, and political enfranchisement. They organized demonstrations, protests, and sit-ins outside the Parliament. In 1925, women’s organizations signed and presented a petition to the Parliament asking for suffrage, at least in local elections. Women were first granted the right to vote in municipal elections of 1930. They had to have reached the age of 30 and have the ability to read and write. In the municipal elections of 1934, only 10,500 women participated; the rest did not fulfil the requirements or was not interested (Papageorgiou-Limberes 2003; Halkias 2004, 38). During the period of WWII and the Civil War, 1940-49, the ethic of national survival was pre-eminent even for extremely radical women. From the early 1950s until the military coup of 1967, the state was gradually losing total control over Greek women. Important internal factors were emigration, educational reforms, and the influx of tourism. Women received more and better education, better paid jobs, and more legal, political, and social rights. The period of the military junta (1967-1974) were years of stagnation for the women’s movement. The new Constitution of 1974 explicitly stated that women were equal to men. The positive changes were not the genuine product of the Greek state. It had to comply with European Community laws. With coming to power of the Socialist Party in 1981, these changes became accelerated at a very rapid rate. In 1989, a Centre for Equality of the Sexes was established as an advisory board to the government. In 1982, civil marriage was introduced. In 1983-85, the Family Law was changed to come into accordance with European Commu- nity laws. The old institution of dowry was struck down, and both partners became responsible for the establishment of a new household. Women won the right to keep their family name. Immediate divorce on agreement became possible; discrimination at work based on sex became considered illegal. Contem- porary women’s movements are fighting for the realization of legal equality; they are concerned with issues such as violence, rape, and male control. Their strategy is not to align with political parties; however, their characteristic is that they are elitist, present their issues in an abstract language and have no access to the average woman. As a result, their effectiveness is considered minimal. The strongest opponent of equality rights is the Orthodox Church. It stands for an anti-liberation position in the names of family, nation, and Orthodoxy. The 156 Patriarchy after Patriarchy introduction of civil marriage was a heavy blow to the Church (Papageorgiou- Limberes 2003). In Albania, the societal situation for the establishment of critical women’s organization was extremely difficult. In 1920, the first women’s journal was edited: Gruaja shqiptare (Albanian Woman). The first mass women’s organization, the Antifascist Women’s Union, was founded in 1943 as a branch of the Communist Party and was transformed into the Women’s Union of Albania in 1946. It was only marginally successful in creating a genuine women’s movement and was dissolved after the introduction of the multiparty system in 1992 (Dymi & Pine 1999, 60; Schindler 1995, 304). In Bulgaria, the first women’s association, Milosurdie, was organized in 1857. It advocated educational advancement and cultural enrichment of women. After 1878, several women’s groups such as the Bulgarian Women’s Union and the Association of University Women were organized with the goal of achieving equality to men in every sphere of social life (Vassilev 1999, 85). Around 1900, socialist and liberal women’s movements were founded (Schindler 1995, 305). For the interwar period, most noteworthy among the women’s organizations were two bourgeois women’s unions, as well as the Women’s Socialist Union, the Women’s Cooperative Guilds, and the Union of Women with Hig- her Education. The impact of early socialism on the women’s movement is of special significance in the Bulgarian case. Foreign ideological influences upon the women’s movement in Bulgaria were coming from the German Frauen- bewegung and the British feminism in particular. One of the leading figures was Dimitra Ivanova, who was in charge of the Bulgarian’s Women’s Union from 1926 to 1944. In Ženski glas (Women’s Voice), she published numerous articles on the state of the international women’s movement (Daskalova 2000a, 152p.; Nestorova 1996, 520pp., Popova 2003, 208pp.). Ivanova’s biography is symptomatic for a Bulgarian feminist. She was born 1881. Since Sofia University did not admit women until 1901, she graduated from Zurich University. After some years, she became a high school teacher. From 1920 to 1944, she was editor-in-chief of Ženski glas, the leading organ of the Bulgarian women’s movement. Here firmness in espousing the women’s cause elevated her to the highest position in the “bourgeois” women’s movement in Bulgaria, that of chairwoman of the Women’s Union, the largest and best known women’s organization in Bulgaria. A major aim of the Union was the obtaining of voting rights for women. After long, unsuccessful efforts, Bul- garian suffragettes celebrated partial and qualified success. A law granting voting rights for women in local elections was passed in 1937. Women were only accorded voting rights if they were mothers in a legal marriage. They were allowed to vote but not to be elected. In September 1944, when the Red Army took over power in the country, she was arrested for four months. Although she was considered to be on the left in the pre-socialist era, she barely escaped execution for being a prominent “bourgeois” public figure. In 1948, she was per- The Decline of Patriarchy 157 manently disbarred from further working as a defence lawyer (which she became in 1946). Ivanova died in 1960 at the age of 79 (Daskalova 2004, 91-100; Popova 2003, 214-218). The new Bulgarian National Women’s Union, founded in 1945, was an auxiliary of the Communist Party. The resolution of the women’s question was proclaimed (Schindler 1995, 305). The Union served primarily to perpetuate official party views. By the late 1970s and early 1980s, its ideology shifted to even more conservative views (Vassilev 1999, 85). The best proof is the wish for a woman’s “return to family”, expressed by men and women. Women’s paid work was made conditional upon motherhood and family. One might wonder about the type and depth of “changes” in the traditional patriarchal mentality, which still placed women at home, looking after children, men, and household. All this means that the communist propaganda did a good job. The public discourse argued for a strong pro-natalist policy and considered women as “reproductive cohorts” rather than human beings. “The woman” was defined here primarily in terms of her reproductive capacities (Daskalova 2001, 247). By the end of the 19th century, the Romanian women’s movement began to organize itself. In 1895, Eugenia Ianculescu-Reuss began to edit the first Ro- manian feminist journal “The Woman’s Rights” and served as President of the League of Rights and Responsibilities of Women. “Romanian Women”, which began publication in 1895 under the editorship of Andela Xenopol, challenged the stereotype of maternity as being the only socially accepted field of women’s expression (Baban 1999, 213p.). In 1948, women were at least granted suffrage (Roman 2001). In Serbia proper, the first women’s movement was Žensko Društvo (Women’s Association), founded in Belgrade 1875. In 1899, it was succeeded by the association Kneginja Ljubica and in 1903, by the largest pre-war organization Kolo Srpskih Sestara (Association of Serbian Sisters). In 1906, the independent women’s organizations were united under Srpski Ženski Savez (Serbian Women’s Association). In 1914, there were 32 organizations in this alliance, which by then had become members of the International Women’s League. After the foundation of the Yugoslav state in 1918, many new women’s movements were founded. In August 1919, representatives of all parts of the Kingdom met in Belgrade and founded the National Women’s Alliance of Serbs, Croats, and Slovenes. By the end of 1922, 205 organizations, representing more than 50,000 women, were part of this alliance. Its goals were national unity, equality of women and men in private and public spheres, equal pay for equal work, the protection of women, the protection of children and youth, equal educational opportunities for boys and girls at home and in school, a single moral code for women and men, as well as fighting prostitution and alcohol (Emmert 1999, 35p; Vuletiü 2004, 143). In the 1920s, Serbian society still functioned according to the Serbian Civil Code of 1844, which sanctioned the inequality of sexes. Women had no right to 158 Patriarchy after Patriarchy govern their own property, they could not be guardians for their own children, and they were not allowed to undertake any legal matter that concerned inheritance without the consent of their husbands; if a husband had any other legal heir, a wife inherited nothing. The most influential Serbian political party in interwar Yugoslavia, the Radical Party, argued that there was little time to worry about women’s rights when Parliament had to secure the very unity of the country. In 1922, the Women’s Club of Belgrade was opened – a place to meet and to read. It also offered meals at a reasonable price and a place for evening lectures – lectures on women’s rights and the defence of women (Emmert 1999, 36p., 43-46). In 1941, German, Italian, Hungarian, and Bulgarian troops occupied the country. In the context of the Yugoslav National Liberation Movement, the parti- sans were the only group of combatants to introduce changes in traditional gender relations. This included the recruiting of women into the armed partisan movement, admitting women into the Communist Party, giving women the right to vote, and assigning or electing them to important administrative tasks and functions. About 5.7 million people, or 12% of Yugoslavia’s pre-war population joined the National Liberation Movement. The official figure for women’s participation in the partisan forces was two million. Of these, 100,000 fought as soldiers, of whom 25,000 died in battle action. Approximately 2,000 women achieved officer’s rank. Most of them were between 15 and 35 years old. The group from 15 to 24 consisted of white-collar workers, peasants, and students; the group from 25 to 35 consisted of women with higher education, such as doctors and members of the intelligentsia, teachers and blue-collar workers. Women were originally recruited into women’s units, but later these units were broken up and incorporated into the male units (Jancar-Webster 1999, 67-72; 84-87). Post-war socialism promised to solve all women’s social problems. However, working outside the party channels was interpreted as unnecessary and potentially counterrevolutionary. Feminists were described as working against the achievements of gender equality. In December 1942, the Anti-Fascist Front of Women of Yugoslavia had been created. Kata Pejnoviü, a Croatian, was elected first president. The Yugoslav Constitution of 1946 promised: “Women enjoy equal rights with men in all spheres of state economic and social life. Women are entitled to a salary equal to that of men for the same work...”. The Anti- Fascist Front of Women was abolished in 1953 on the argument that the goal of gender equality could be better promoted via party agencies that were not gender-specific. Instead, the Union of Women’s Societies (about 2,000 members at the beginning) was created (Ramet 1999, 92pp.). Genuine women’s movements in the countries of Eurasia Minor were suppressed by various means. Except in Greece, where the women’s movement was permanently exposed to the aims of enosis, the collection of Greek lands, occupied by ancient and Byzantine Greeks – and had to be nationalistic in or- The Decline of Patriarchy 159 der to survive – the women’s question was “resolved” by the state and/or the Party. Turkey and the socialist Balkan states were far ahead of Western Euro- pean states in introducing legislation for gender equality – despite progressive legislation in Scandinavia – but this ended up in permanent tutelage by a male- dominated state and/or party. The interventionist states in the region were male dominated; Western European states were also male-dominated, but autonomous women’s movements achieved visibility through their massive demonstrations against male-centred laws. Both socialist and non-socialist states in the region were (and still are) dominated by men. The interventionist socialist system was by no means able to solve the everyday problems of its citizens, nor was the non-socialist and semi-tributary system (a formally modern state without effective state institutions) in Turkey and Greece. The consequence was informality based on traditional networks and networks adapted to the constraints of the socialist state and the semi-tributary systems of Turkey and Greece. These networks of informality functioned primarily on men’s relations and brought back patriarchal relationship to societies, in which gender-equality was formally guaranteed, through the backdoor.

Informality

The socialist state was unable to fulfil the requirements of an emerging industrialized society, neither were the Turkish and Greek states. Therefore, informality continued to operate predominantly through traditional and newly established social networks. Political and economic objectives intersected with diverse social obligations such as those of proletarian friends and indiscriminate kin. In contrary to modernization theories, industrialization did not erode kin obligations. Because socialist development depended on an informality that was based on kin lines and people who were close to them, socialist development actually enhanced certain kin connections. The socialist informal sector, defined as a collection of processes, incompletely regulated by the political and economic apparatus of the state and used by individuals for social, political, and economic ends, emerged as a means of integration of households, various individuals, groups of people, sectors of the economy, and even regions (Creed 1998, 186p., 205). Networks under socialism were formed by shifting sets of kin, ritual kin, age mates, neighbours, and friends made at work, at school, and in the army. Struc- turally, they resembled the networks of the pre-war era, but the socialist political economy wrought major changes in the meanings, behaviour, goals, and significance of these quasi-groups. They were more heterogeneous than they had been before. Networks of relationships within the region or with a few urban workers were enlarged to include others throughout the country and a- cross the socioeconomic range. The functions of networks also expanded. Once 160 Patriarchy after Patriarchy they had functioned as levelling mechanisms and social cement; now they provided the information, resources, and connections that fostered social mobility and differentiation. Household decisions were rarely made without consideration of network-related issues. A variety of factors was responsible for these changes. Most important was the structure of state bureaucracy, which created a nationwide social organization, in which all participated via their “connections”. Urbanization and migration for employment linked people from all parts of the nation (Kideckel 1993, 166). Hammel scrutinized its functionality in Belgrade in the middle of the 1960s. The census of 1961 revealed that more than half of the city’s population was born in the countryside. He investigated the social relations of 326 country-to- city labourers. Sixty-three per cent of them preferred social relations to their father’s cousins and only 27% to their mother’s cousins. If both father and son lived in the city, they had contact with each other every second or third day; in the case of brother-brother relations, the contact was even more frequent. Eco- nomically successful kin attracted visits by newcomers in the city. The successful became attractive and they enjoyed appearing among their related and non- related fans. Migration and mobility did not decrease contact with kin – on the contrary: the importance of kin intensified through migration, because both rural and urban parts were able to procure advantages from this relation (Ham- mel 1969, 285; Kaser 1995, 452p.). In the countryside, the different forms of households had to cooperate and exchange resources and labour. For instance, people with large hay lots but insufficient labour to keep animals traded hay for milk. Aggrandizing households made most frequent use of network ties in their quest for economic predominance. Exchange of goods and favours was preceded by a long chain of previous exchanges and generated a ripple effect itself. People in government and party bureaus, with control over state resources in information, were especially valued network partners. Though network exchange cut across class lines and linked diverse socioeconomic groups, it promoted social differentiation and disharmony. People more favourably placed in the political system could more readily control the behaviour of their network partners. By alternately with- holding and bestowing favours, they manipulated their partners and set one against the other. The need to use networks to satisfy a household’s minimal needs probably reinforced hierarchy and fostered a vicious dependency on social relations to boot. At the same time, the surface relations of cooperation and extensive webs of friendship that networks facilitated were charged with tension and jealousy. Since maintenance of these relations required constant exchanges of goods and services, concern was pervasive that the things one wanted would be given to someone else who could offer something better in exchange. Failure to keep the exchanges going resulted in frustration and ruptured relationships. Household differentiation took on new dimensions when the peasants became peasant-workers. Networks remained important in the villager’s consciousness, they were harder to form and to mobilize and increas- The Decline of Patriarchy 161 ingly problematic, given the widespread competition, distrust, and dishonesty that network relations now encouraged. Each household strategy demanded the mobilization of network ties but each household also saw those ties as useful for limited and immediately limited outcomes (Kideckel 1993, 165-172). Godparenthood had been one of the traditional modes of establishing networks. In Romania, the nas-fin (godparent-godchild) relationship was in turmoil and its ability to link households in a common purpose was waning. The criteria by which godparents were selected had been considerably modified. In the past, sponsors were almost universally selected from within one’s village. Now, godparents were as likely to live outside the village as in it. This change implies others in the function and meaning of godparenthood. Whereas godparenthood traditionally linked diverse village kin groups and neighbourhoods affectively, spiritually, and economically, the modern relationship seems to have been used mainly for instrumental purposes. The relatively large number of work colleagues selected as sponsors suggests that godparenthood was increasingly influenced by political and economic considerations. Even party and state cadres were frequently asked to be nasi, despite their overt rejection of the religious aspects of the relationship. In the past, it was shameful for either party to bow out of the nasie-relationship without compelling cause. Lately, however, shame rarely figured in such decisions. Some godparents asked to be re- lieved of the responsibility for financial reasons. Many young parents requested new sponsors for their infants, and young spouses readily selected other nasi regardless of pre-existing relations (Ibid. 170p.). The character of Eurasia Minor’s states about the middle of the 20th century was interventionist (socialist) or semi-tributary (Turkey and Greece). Gender relations were not a top priority on the government’s agenda. The Kemalist state at its beginning showed ambitions to realize its state feministic program. A considerable number of female lawyers and medical doctors were trained, and the number of women in work force was increasing. This program collapsed definitely when the Turkish population doubled within a short period of time around the middle of the 20th century. The Turkish labour market was unable to absorb the rapidly growing population. In this kind of competition, men usually are in an advantaged position on the market; so it was in Turkey. Women retreated from the labour market drastically. Women’s participation in the official labour market decreased from 85.5% (1950) to 37.0% (1975) according to published figures. In sharp contrast, the socialist state was suffering a lack of human resources and was “resolving” the gender-issue by the employment of a high number of women in the industrial sector and by educating them. State patriarchy did not care so much about the question of how labour in public sector affected male-female-relations. After a short experiment from about the middle of the 1950s to the middle of the 1960s, socialist ideologists re-invented the advantages of family-life – a re-invention that included selected features of traditional forms. This was the simplest way to resolve the tension that arose between female public labour and the procreation of society. Women 162 Patriarchy after Patriarchy were freed from the traditional obligations of a patriarchal, agricultural society, and so were men, too. However, the way towards a new society came at the expense of women. They had to take over the double burden of managing their job and also the household. Therefore, women were affected by both private and public patriarchy. This was formally called the “socialist family“.

3. Ideological Trends and the Growth of the Nuclear Family

“The basic function of the socialist family is to bring up and educate children as honest, diligent, ideo-politically matured citizens of the new society, with infinite faith in our fatherland – the People’s Republic of Bulgaria.” (Family Code, passed by the National Assembly of the People’s Republic of Bulgaria, May 1985) (Brunnbauer & Taylor 2004, 283)

According to Marx and Engels’ classical theory, the family would die out after having abolished bourgeois exploitation relations and with the vanishing of capital (Marx & Engels 1974, 478p.). Socialist reality was different. Instead of the abolishment of the family, socialists invented the “socialist family”. After the abolishment of the eldest man’s rule, the key question remained the husband-wife relation. Was the socialist family able to abolish the double burden of wives? Ideologically, the main task of the institution of family was procreation. However, procreation means additional housework. The crucial question is who did the housework and whether housework received the same status as public wage labour. The patriarchal state and party never tried to solve the key question of patriarchy in an industrialized society. This subchapter, firstly, ana- lyzes the ideology of the socialist family and compares it to everyday reality. There is no doubt that the enormous social change affected the family as an institution (its structure and form), but not necessarily gender relations. Patriar- chy changed its form. The patriarch was not any longer the eldest male household member but the state. Patriarchy in the socialist state became public without losing important characteristics of the traditional private patriarchy of the pre-industrial era. This does not mean, however, that the attack on patriarchy was less effective in the framework of the socialist state than in the non- socialist states of Greece and Turkey. Although the socialist family became only a variant of the bourgeois family, family life of the socialist state changed more than in the non-socialist countries. The analysis of changing family forms is the second purpose of the subchapter. The Decline of Patriarchy 163

The Socialist Family – Ideology and Reality

The Soviet’s idea of the ideal family was taken over by the young socialist Balkan states. The Soviet Union experimented with the liberalization of divorce (Family Codes of 1918 and 1926). The experiment regressed until the Family Code of 1944, which changed a revolutionary family model into a conservative one. The Family Code of 1944 was exported to the socialist states of Eastern and South-eastern Europe. The objective was to institutionalize the homogeneity of the laws of the socialist societies. For the Balkan countries, this conservative model, however, was a step toward modernization. The earlier Soviet Family Codes did no longer consider the family as a central institution of society. The Code of 1944 was a move toward the legalization of the family, intending to restore an institutional framework to family relationships and to return them to exclusive state authority. Under the circumstances of large losses of human resources in WWII, the legitimate family was designed as the centre of socialist society with the duty and responsibility of men and women to procreate and educate socialist citizens. The aim was to increase birth rates. From the 1960s, the socialist countries began introducing national variants of the model of the strong, stable, and prolific family (Ronfani 2003, 123, 130- 133). How did the socialist regimes generally affect family? They set aside, firstly, religious constraints of marriage and family life. Civil marriage was introduced and authority over divorce was transferred from religious to state authorities. Divorce and abortion rates resulted in lower birth rates – at least until the middle of the 1960s. They increased, secondly, employment, education, and opportunities for women generally. They provided, thirdly, social communal care, and they, fourthly, introduced confiscatory taxes generated through the view that inheritance created potential economic inequalities. Therefore, inheritance ceased to be important for generational relations. The effective confiscation at death of “personal” property by the state seems to have diminished the incentive for individuals to save over the long term. Thus, there was less emphasis on the family and family property (Goody 2000, 147). Fifthly, family was exposed to ideological considerations. Ideologically committed to the demise of patriarchal society, the Romanian Communist Party actually built on its values while showing an egalitarian spirit in theory. Within the context of patriarchal traditions, gender discourse defined sexuality mostly in terms of procreation. Women’s virtue was often linked to their sexual passivity. They were not supposed to enjoy sex. The peasant psychology continued to flourish in provincial towns and working class cultures of the cities. Collectivization of agriculture and forced industrialization led primarily to the ruralization of the town rather than the urbanization of the village. By the mid-1960s, the state and party had adopted the attitudes of the peasant culture, the state’s rhetoric about the family reasoned with familiar cultural 164 Patriarchy after Patriarchy patterns, and sexuality was eliminated from public discourse. The decrees became tougher year by year, as the state sought increasing control over reproduction. As the state grafted its policy onto the traditional patriarchal system, a pseudo-puritanical atmosphere was enforced by a socialist reinterpretation of peasant tradition and female modesty. Signs of female beauty or desirability gradually disappeared, being proclaimed harmful and indecent. Movies were censored so that not even a kiss or bare arm could be shown. Girls were educated to fear men, avoid pleasure, and see sex as a “necessary evil” accepted only for the sake of establishing a household. Partner relations suffered as growing numbers of women refused to have sex for fear of an unwanted pregnancy. Communist education built on patriarchal traditions and instilled in young women the idea that sexuality outside the family and without the purpose of procreation was immoral. Conventional behaviour was obedience to father, husband, and state. A divorced woman, a childless married woman, or attractive unmarried women were incompatible with the image of the ideal communist woman. Dressing elegantly or applying makeup was frowned upon (Baban 1999, 214pp.). Relations within Bulgarian families until 1944 had remained strongly patriarchal despite some tendencies in the inter-war period towards weakened patriarchal power. The Party in its drive to modernize Bulgarian society and establish socialism considered conservative and patriarchal family relations a major obstacle. Since the socialist governments regarded the family as a fundamental site for socializing men and women into the new order, they sought to diminish patriarchal authority, connecting the family more directly to the state and the vision of a classless society. Once firmly in power, the Bulgarian communists actively propagated the conviction that family relations must change, but that marriage and the family should continue to play a vital role in the process of building socialist society. The foremost task of the socialist state in the area of the family and marriage, therefore, was to create lasting and stable families, while at the same time transforming them into the appropriate socialist model. The revolutionary programme thus included the goals of levelling the legal status of men and women, increasing female employment, and establishing the family as the primary educator of the new socialist generation. In May 1945, family life was put on a new legal basis by the “Decree on Marriage”, which declared only the civil marriage a legal union (Brunnbauer & Taylor 2004, 285p., 288). On the one hand, the Bulgarian state proclaimed that families were to be transformed into “socialist” ones and liberated from so-called “capitalist distortions” and “bourgeois remnants”. On the other hand, the Party charged families with fulfilling certain duties to the state and society that were considered “natural” functions of the family. The most important of these were the communist education of children and procreation. The instrumentalization of families served the government as a pretext to interfere in the private and family lives of citizens when they appeared not to meet their prescribed responsibilities. As a The Decline of Patriarchy 165 result, issues linked to the family and reproduction were highly politicized and transformed into fields of permanent negotiation between the Party-state and the population (Ibid. 284). The new “socialist family” was supposed to be based on a nuclear family model consisting of husband, wife, and their unmarried children. Theorists described it as characterised by “democratic relations”, as “partnership” or “companionable” family: the independence of the spouses from the elder generation, economic and legal equality between husband and wife, the employment of both spouses, the participation of the husband in the domestic sphere, and dedication to socialism. Texts reiterated mutual respect, solidarity and life-long devotion as its constitutive base, as opposed to mere sexual attraction. Other socialist family values were listed as love, harmony in intimate relations, trust, mutual understanding, and support (Taylor 2006, 152p.).

Table 28: Household Typology, Bulgaria (in per cent, 1975)

Type Overall Towns Villages Spouses without children 20.89 16.43 26.40 Spouses with unmarried children 37.12 46.73 24.99 One parent with unmarried children 3.45 4.22 2.46 Other simple families 0.11 0.16 0.05 Simple families (total) 61.57 67.54 53.92 Simple family with additional relatives 11.24 10.10 12.69 Other extended families 0.03 0.04 0.01 Extended families (total) 11.27 10.14 12.70 Two-family households 22.52 18.56 27.52 Two-family households with additional relatives 2.60 2.03 3.31 Three-family households 1.82 1.47 2.26 Other multiple families 0.24 0.21 0.28 Multiple families (total) 27.18 20.27 30.37 Total 100.00 100.00 100.00 Source: Brunnbauer & Taylor 2004, 291

However, surveys from the 1970s revealed that between 30% and 40% of Bul- garian families were not nuclear, i.e. lived together with other relatives or with another household, mostly because of housing shortages. Table 28 shows some 41% of newly-weds as living with relatives. In this case, couples tended to favour living with the husband’s parents, corresponding to the predominant patrilocal traditional household model. Couples with higher education and, presumably, higher income were found to live least frequently in this constellation. Since many arrangements were viewed as provisional, the actual figure of families living together with additional relatives at a given time was presuma- 166 Patriarchy after Patriarchy bly higher than studies indicate (Ibid. 157-161). Contemporary Bulgarian scholars noted the persistence of patriarchal relations. Sociologists pointed out in the 1980s that, although families from the countryside experienced a process of adaptation to urban life, the mentality and way of life of the new worker was best described as a mixture of urban and rural elements (Brunnbauer & Taylor 2004, 290). Waged work and socialist family politics did contribute to reconfiguring gender relations and making women significantly less dependent on men. Neverthe- less, at the same time, reliance on family ties tended to reproduce patriarchal as well as family-centred forms of life. Men continued to be considered the head of the household despite discourse that questioned this “natural” position in the family (Taylor 2006, 161; Brunnbauer 2007, 555). Even in urban settings, participation of husbands in housework hardly existed. A Bulgarian survey among 16,000 working women conducted in 1969 revealed that housework was equally distributed among men and women in only 15% of the households. On the other hand, however, housework was deeply inscribed into women’s identities. A survey among working women in Sofia one year later showed that 59% were convinced that only women should do the housework; only 5% expected their husband’s equal participation (Brunnbauer 2007, 548-551). A medical discourse was implanted, which aimed at legitimizing the pronatalist policy of the socialist Bulgarian family. The official policy and ideology aimed at a high birth rate, which was to be realised only in matrimony. All sexual behaviour that deviated from the norm of heterosexual relations with the aim of marriage and procreation was declared anomalous. The attempt at stan- dardization by declaring as pathological all deviant sexual behaviours concerned both sexes, but the sexuality of women was to be guarded and controlled more carefully. The resulting disciplining measures such as legislation, the state monopoly on health care, and the control of mores by several mass organizations, exerted a palpable influence. The public medical discourse played a significant role and led to the internalisation of certain official norms. Medical sciences were considered free of ideology and politics, and were therefore highly appreciated. Medical doctors had a normative monopoly in questions of sexuality, although social practise displayed a high degree of plurality (Kassabova-Dintcheva 2004, 170p., 174p.). The category of youth in the considerations of socialist ideologists became pronounced. An independent youth culture was not visible in most of the region until the process of industrialization and urbanization set in after WWII. In the countryside, the age at marriage was too low to allow the appearance of a category of phase called “youth” in the lives of the majority of people. The Western European pattern of post-pubertal marriage had long provided a social basis of entertainment and courtship for local youth cultures. This useful social space was widespread all over Northern and Western Europe, more peer- controlled in Scandinavia and in Germany. In the 1830s, youth had emerged as The Decline of Patriarchy 167 a socio-political category in most of Western Europe. Around 1900, class movements generally overshadowed youth movements in Europe and in the European settlements overseas, but there was a very significant social presence of youth in the labour movement (Therborn 2006, 19). Sexual revolution linked to an independent youth culture is not universal. By the 1990s, changes of major scope may be under way in Japan, Taiwan, and in some major Asian cities, but they are not comparable to those of North-western Europe and North America. In the West, the last third of the 20th century witnessed the classical sexual revolution: (1) culturally and legally, there was a secularization of sexuality, liberating it from religious or other aprioristic normative rulings as “sinful” or otherwise condemnable. De-tabooing of homosexuality was another manifestation of change. (2) New contraceptive technologies greatly facilitated a de-linking of sex and procreation. The Pill came on the American market in 1960, in Sweden in 1964. Sexual revolution manifested itself most clearly in earlier pre-marital debuts. While the age at marriage moved upwards, the age of first intercourse moved downwards. The practise of pre-marital sex widened significantly. In Britain, for instance, the average age of first sexual intercourse decreased from 21 for women born in the 1930s and 1940s, to 17 for women born between 1966 and 1975. By 2000, the median age of first sex for girls born in 1975-84 had gone down to 16, the same as for boys. In Southern Europe, the traditional pattern of much earlier sexual activity among males than among females is still in force, sustained by a small pool of sexually accessible women, prostitutes, and others. The average age at first intercourse among males born in the second half of the 1960s was significantly lower than that for females, by 1.5 years in Greece, 1.8 years in Italy, 2.3 years in Portugal, and 1.5 years in Spain (Ibid. 207p., 210, 215). The “sexual revolution” in socialist countries such as Bulgaria cannot be described as a revolution in terms of advancement of political content or an open uprooting of social norms. Rather, it was an extended period of crucial change in the sexual behaviour of youth that did not find articulation in the public sphere. The young generations developed sexual cultures despite, and largely unaided by, socialist institutions (Taylor 2006, 149). In socialist countries, it was very difficult for young people to leave home and form a new household because of the absence of sufficient housing. Three generational families were common and young people had to live with parents normally for a few years even after they were married. In Bulgaria in 1977, 61% of the young married couples were living with parents. In socialist countries, parents felt obliged to provide housing for children as well as education. Young people expected help from parents through all their major transitions in life. One such transition was the birth of children. With women working full-time, grandparents provided crucial resources in the support of young families in this respect. In the 1980s in Bulgaria, 68% of young people used parents on both sides of the family for help in babysitting (Wallace-Kovatcheva 1998 145, 147p.). 168 Patriarchy after Patriarchy

Socialist morality endorsed marriage as the only legitimate and morally approved context for sexual relations. The two main goals at the base of Bulgar- ian sexual policy were to maintain a familial social order and to ensure reproduction. Established social norms and concepts of morality strongly influenced the thinking of political leaders and overrode socialist theoretical standpoints to determine the official ideology on the family and sexual relations. One of the disquieting effects of the authoritarian stance on sexuality was that young people were scarcely informed about sex just at the time when sexual practises were being transformed. Monogamy was vigorously endorsed in the sense of a permanent relationship entered by a man and a woman free from material and social pressures. The “free communist monogamy” was characterised by equality between the sexes and emotional harmony. People who practised “free love” with changing partners were condemned as “psychologically unstable and ultimately vulnerable.” Sexuality – irrational, individualistic, capricious, and spontaneous – was considered a massive obstacle to the creation of the rational, disciplined, and collectivist new socialist personality. At the centre of official concern with sexuality lay the issue of female sexual behaviour. Although Bulgarian socialist legislation made significant inroads on patriarchal attitudes to women in public life, concepts of female sexuality remained very much contained within patriarchal ideology. One of the main concerns of theorists and scientists alike was the issue of female marital sexual relations before marriage. Women were ultimately addressed as de- individualised collective possessions of the nation who must guard their purity (Taylor 2006, 135p., 177pp.). Political revolution in Yugoslavia was also marked by sexual puritanism. Dur- ing WWII, all the partisan women who got pregnant out of wedlock were shot to death. This puritanism of Yugoslav Communists was to a great extent a product of the origin of the communist leaders before and during the war. From the mid-1930s onwards, most Communist Party dignitaries had come from the rural mountain areas. Formally, they accepted the legal equality of women, but many of them never accepted it in their own private life. Sexuality was a taboo for the Belgrade media until the 1950s. The first film kiss came in 1957 (Subo- tom uveþe) and the first nudity in 1960 (ýudna devojka). Restrictions were quite severe when it came to everyday life. In the late 1950s, police were ar- resting couples who kissed in public, as well as women who wore too few clothes on the city beaches. Girls caught “in a sinful act” were expelled from high schools (Markoviü 2004, 98p.). The “socialist family” was a phenomenon that existed in discourses of socialist states, but not in reality. If the “socialist family” was a form of family that suffered a lack of residences and a lack of consumer goods, when it is conceived as a place of high fertility, shortage of contraceptives, and overburdened women, then it existed. The term “socialist family” created a discursive reality that never became a social reality. Family reality was formed by socioeconomic The Decline of Patriarchy 169 change introduced by Socialist Parties and by the patriarchal character of the socialist state.

The Rural Family and Social Change

The socialist’s concern was not so much the urban family, since it could, as they thought, be easily controlled and regulated by the Party cadres and by a socialist system of urban planning. The core of resistance against the modernization of gender relations was considered the rural family. A powerful means of destroying the cohesion of multiple household confederations was collectivization of private land property, by leaving only a minimum for familial disposition. In this way, family conglomerations were encouraged to divide in order to receive or keep the minimum; the larger a household the more household members had to share this minimum. In Yugoslavia, collectivization was less rigid; this enabled multiple households to continue staying together, such as was the case among Albanian families in Kosovo and Macedonia. The number of Peasant Work Cooperations in Yugoslavia fell from 7,012 (1949) to 688 (1955) (Tochitch 1959, 26), whereas in Albania, Bulgaria, and Romania practically all of the fertile soil was collectivized. Collectivization did not lead to the establishment of a new village community based on the collectivized soil, but rather to an individualization and atomization of socialist village life. Creed’s main thesis formulated in view of the Bulgarian situation is summarized as “domestication of socialism”: villagers forced concessions from central plan- ners and administrators that eventually transformed an oppressive system into a tolerable one. “... through their mundane actions, villagers domesticated the socialist revolution.” The system itself helped make domestication possible: the totalizing nature of socialism amplified everyday peasant resistance into a more transformative force than was often the case under capitalism. The transformative possibilities consisted in rural compliance as well as resistance. The household as a space of social interaction was crucial to this outcome. The relative autonomy of the village household from the socialist state helped depoliticize the economic intervention into the domestic spaces of Bulgarian villages, keeping the transformative actions of villagers closer to compliance than to resistance (Creed 1998, 3, 69). However, this was not necessarily the consequence of collectivization everywhere, as the example of Northern Albania demon- strates. Until the 1960s, Albanian Communists found no means to destroy the multiple family household structures in Northern Albania. The first tool was offered by the collectivization of soil and animal herds in the 1960s and early 1970s. Two methods were applied: (1) economic stimulus for dividing the family. Private property was limited to 300 square metres. This was very little for a household consisting of, let us say, forty members. After a division, every branch of the 170 Patriarchy after Patriarchy former family union was allowed to use 300 square meters. This was supported by the tallon system. Every family received a monthly free portion of coffee, sugar, oil, grain, etc., called tallon. Again, this was a stimulus for dividing the family. Due to these measures, the families formally split, but this did not necessarily mean the end of familial collaboration. The household head went to the registry office, declared division and signed a document. In practise they continued to act as a family unit while being members of the village collective at the same time. The household head of the no longer officially existing household commune continued to collect the individual incomes of the former family members and redistributed it. The branches (conjugal units) would establish separate houses near the stem house. If the household members declared their financial inability to establish new houses, they would even stay together in the house (Kaser 1995b, 139p.). (2) The second method was forced division. The several branches of a household-unit were settled by force in diverse regions of the country. However, not even this was necessarily a serious obstacle to continuous collaboration: the eldest brother continued to act as household head. He administered the incomes of the other brothers. The expenses of a marriage of one of the sons were carried collectively. After the end of Communism, the brothers looked for possibilities to reunite the household (Ibid. 141p.). A case study in the Transylvanian region of Făgăraú, Romania, reveals that collectivization did not necessarily result in uniformity of household structures and family life. Households varied first in accordance with their external relations with people in positions of political power and with wider social networks in the village community; and second, in their resulting ability to control their labour and the economic goals to which it was directed. Members of all households pooled their income and considered themselves as forming a single unit. Though production largely took place outside the household, on collective farms and in factories, the household was still critical in the culture-labour relationship. This was for two reasons: (1) it was the context for socialization; (2) since some individuals defined themselves as members of a household even though they were not residing with the other members at the moment, they acted as part of an economic and political unit and consciously employed their labour, resources, and potentials in order to support the well-being of the other members. Internal household relations changed little. As young people were now freed from the need to inherit land, they began to marry earlier than their elders had done before WWII. Age at marriage declined for women from 20.5 in 1931-1940 to 17.8 in 1960-1964, and for men from 24.7 to 23.5. The young couples did not set up their own households. Marriage simply brought an additional income into the larger household. In Hîrseni, village exogamous marriage increased in this period. Three factors were responsible for this new trend: (1) with industrialization, individuals made a greater number of contacts with people in other communities; (2) nationalization of land obviated the need to find marriage partners with land resources close to one’s home; (3) an in- The Decline of Patriarchy 171 crease in social conflict made it easier for some people to leave the village (Kideckel 1993, 24, 97). Continuity and change is also documented by Creed’s study in Zamfirovo, North-western Bulgaria. He began fieldwork here in 1987 and continued after 1989. The population trends (out-migration, fertility decline) affected household dynamics of the village already in the interwar period. In addition, the larger the holding was the higher the rate of requisitions (collectivization) in the early socialist period. Thus, household fissioning and concomitant property division could reduce the total requisition burden of the people involved. At the same time, division, on the one hand, did not necessarily mean that separated households ceased to collaborate economically. Disagreement among family members over the cooperative farm, on the other hand, frequently led to household divisions in the years leading up to collectivization. Since each separate household had the right to a personal plot, division could double the amount of available land. Therefore, the division of households became a concern of the state, which attempted to guard against artificial separations. Any household wanting to be recognized as two distinct units had to make a request to the village council, which then decided on its legitimacy. Between 1956 and 1959, about half of the requests were granted, the rest denied on the basis that the applicants were not living separately or there was no more land to allocate for personal use (Creed 1998, 22p., 131pp.). As mentioned above, collectivization in Yugoslavia was by far not as rigid as in the other socialist Balkan countries. This left enough space of action for ethnic groups such as Albanians in Kosovo/Kosova and Macedonia, which showed because of various reasons little enthusiasm to participate in the processes of industrialization and rural-urban migration. Gjergj Rrapi, a sociologist at University of Prishtina, conducted research on the composition of Alba- nian multiple family households in the Kosovo/Kosova-region of Dukagjin, which borders Northern Albania, in the 1980s. Multiply structured households were represented in every community. Two-hundred twenty-five out of 25,473 families of the region comprised more than 30 members; even families with 90 members or more existed. One household consisted of 11, one of 12, and one of 13 conjugal units; in 37.0% of the cases an elder brother was the household head. The economic basis of the multiply structured households was predominately (52.0%) or exclusively (10.0%) agrarian. In 151 multiply structured households, 840 married couples were found; six husbands lived with 2 wives, 15 in sororate and 135 in levirate marriage. Caused by the late FDT, the proportion of households consisting of eight members and more grew from 28.7% in 1961 to 35.3% in 1981 (Rrapi 2003, 26p., 52p., 58, 100). Fertility rates in Kosovo/Kosova, although decreasing, were considerably higher than in Serbia proper between 1950 and 1983, which is reflected by Table 29. 172 Patriarchy after Patriarchy

Table 29: Fertility Rates of Serbia Proper and Kosovo/Kosova, 1950-1983

Year Serbia proper Kosovo 1950 3.51 7.42 1960 2.08 6.00 1970 1.86 5.41 1980 1.86 4.87 1983 1.90 4.29 Source: Rrapi 2003, 43

In 1948-49, collectivization began in the former Yugoslav Republic of Mace- donia, and almost half of the cultivated area was brought into collective farms. In 1961, already 34.17% of the inhabitants of Macedonia did not live in the same place where they had been born. In towns, their share was 50%, in Skopje even 60%. Between 1949 and 1971, 473,000 people left their villages. The Albanians were much less affected by collectivization and rural exodus. Only 5% of all Albanian households joined collective farms in contrast to 41% of the Macedonian households. Albanian household heads were especially opposed to including their women into workforce. They remained in the countryside, whereas Macedonians migrated to the cities (Brunnbauer 2004b, 581p.). The Republic is confronted with an increasing proportion of Albanian speakers among the population, which is due to the higher fertility rates of the Albanian population, whose majority lives in the countryside – where the share of Or- thodox Macedonians was 68.5% and the share of Muslim Albanians was 17.1% in 1948; the proportion in 2002 was 64.2% and 25.2%, respectively (Ibid. 568). The family among both Macedonians and Albanians was frequently multiply structured and patriarchal until WWII. However, households began to take different shapes in the 1950s. While Macedonian households began to become increasingly nuclear, Albanian households remained multiple and even increased in size. The average household size in predominantly Macedonian provinces dropped from between five and six members (1948) to about four in 1981. In predominantly Albanian provinces, the average household size increased in the same period to about six (Ibid, 577). This was due to continuing high fertility rates among the Albanian population; mortality rates in 1981 were almost the same among Macedonians and Albanians, as reflected in Table 30. Households differed not only in structure and size, but also according to domestic roles and relations. Albanian households, especially in rural areas, strongly preserved the patriarchal pattern. The eldest man headed the household, had authority over all other household members, distributed labour a- mong the male members of the household, and made important decisions about financial and other household business. The Albanian household was integrated into a lineage-based kinship system, which recognized descent only through patrilineal filiations. After WWII, Macedonian households became less patriar- The Decline of Patriarchy 173 chal than Albanian ones. The relationships between the spouses became more important than unconditional loyalty to the descent group. Patriarchal authority among Macedonians was undermined by the social and economic changes taking place. The younger generation gained more freedom and increasingly had the option of choosing a spouse themselves. The authority differentials between men and women are today smaller than among Albanians; whereas in 1993, among the Macedonian population, the male household head was in charge of the family budget in 34.1% of the cases, compared with 94.1% among the Al- banian population (Ibid. 578, 580).

Table 30: Mortality and Natural Population Growth among Macedonians and Albanians, Socialist Republic of Macedonia, 1953-1981

Year Mortality per 1,000 Inhabitants Natural Population Growth in % Macedonians Albanians Macedonians Albanians 1953 12.2 28.6 2.26 2.86 1961 7.7 15.9 1.65 3.19 1971 6.9 11.2 1.13 2.84 1981 7.2 7.4 1.06 2.25 Source: Brunnbauer 2004b, 574

Around 1950, some 80% of the population of Turkey worked in the primary sector. At no time was this share so drastically reduced as in the socialist countries. Agriculture produced almost exactly half the national domestic income. From 1927 to 1955, three quarters of the population lived in villages. Stirling’s fieldwork results 1949-52 in Sakaltutan and in Elbaúı in the area of Kayseri, Muslim Turkish speaking villages, reflect traditional patriarchal household structures and mentality, quite similar to the countryside in the Balkans before the socialist state took over power (Stirling 1965). About two decades later, signs of change in the countryside already became visible. Magnarella conducted fieldwork in Susurluk – a town in north-western Turkey – in 1969/70. During the 1930s and 1940s, the town was a peasant community with about 4,000 inhabitants. In 1955, a modern government sugar beet refinery began to operate. The plant created either full or part-time employment for approx. 1,000 males from the town and surrounding villages. The town changed from one where the overwhelming majority of its adult male population was primarily engaged in farming to one in which the greater portion derived their livelihoods from new professions (Magnarella 1972, 362p.). Traditional family-life became increasingly exposed to modernization processes, introduced by the sugar plant: (1) The post-marital residence rule changed from patrilocality to neolocality. In many cases, there was no financial need for patrilocality any longer. Many young wives who wanted to avoid 174 Patriarchy after Patriarchy domination by their mother-in-laws also preferred neolocality. (2) Families living in nuclear households were less influenced by elderly kin than families living in extended households. (3) Kin outside the nuclear family participated less in the day-to-day affairs of nuclear families. (4) The internal organization of local households was still largely determined by the traditional division of labour, age, sex, and kinship relations of their members. Women were not supposed to do anything without the permission of men; men controlled the money. However, this had been changing. Before 1955, women had rarely been seen in the market place. The newly arrived wives of the refinery’s managerial staff had been accustomed to public shopping in the cities where they had previously lived. These women established an important precedent. More and more men allowed their women to shop themselves. (5) Only 15% of the sample claimed never to consult their wives for important family decisions, while 29.1% claimed to do so always (Ibid. 365-370). The latter result has to be seen against the results of a nationwide survey conducted in 1968, were the question was: “Who Has the Most ‘Say’ in Family”. According to the results, it was the husband in 74.2% of the cases, in 18.4% of the cases the husband’s father, and in only 0.7% of the cases the wife (Timur 1981, 71). By around 1980, the family was exposed to significant social change: technological innovation in agriculture and monetized agricultural economy, land fragmentation and shifts in income distribution, the growth of urban industry, cultural diffusion, education, and the mass media. Though it was generally assumed that the typical rural family was patriarchally extended, national surveys and other studies have shown this not to be the case any longer. The majority of families, even in rural areas, were nuclear. However, even when conjugal families lived in separate households, the functions of an extended family were served by them as they were called upon to provide material support when needed, forming what might be called the “functionally extended family”. Thus, close family ties extending into kinship relatives served an important function of security in times of conflict and crisis. The spatial proximity of the separate family and kin households, even in urban areas, symbolized and might have further strengthened the close mutual bonds of family and kin (Kâgitçibasi 1982, 4p.). Research conducted about ten years later (1989) shows that the institution of the family in Turkey was still very strong compared to western states. Of the married population, 91.8% were married for the first time, only 7.5% were married for the second time. The average age at marriage, especially in rural districts, was low. As for women, 56.8% married between the age of 19 and 22; the rate was 58.2% of men marrying between 23 and 29. The increase of age at marriage in the 1980s was caused by an increased period of training and mainly concerned the urban population. Marriage as an institution, where traditional values regulate relations between men and women, was still very strongly influenced by kin. Of the married couples, 48.1% were introduced by kin or other closely related persons (görücü usulü); 28.4% found their partner among the The Decline of Patriarchy 175 circle of acquaintances. Only 4.8% of marriages (predominantly in urban areas) were based on personal choice (Tekeli 1991, 35). Rural family relations in Eurasia Minor were clearly affected by macro- political changes since the middle of the 20th century. Social change was more profound in socialist states, however, not all the regions were affected by the same intensity of socioeconomic change. The inclusion into and exclusion from various modernization programs had their ethnic and/or religious aspects. It is obvious that Muslim families, where they constituted a minority such as Mus- lim Albanians in Kosovo/Kosova and Macedonia (as well the Muslim-Pomak and Muslim-Turkish population of Bulgaria and the Muslim-Turkish population in Northern Greece) were not attracted to the same degree to urbanization, industrialization, and modernization in general as the majority of the population. A similar observation holds true for the Kurdish population in South- eastern and Eastern Anatolia. This was not because of a deep rooted conservativism and patriarchalism per se, but these populations did not consider the state as “their” state and proposed modernization as “their” way into modernity. They simply resisted. Like Albanians of Kosovo/Kosova and Macedonia, they massively preferred labour migration to Western Europe to labour migration to the next town or city in their respective countries. This, obviously, was also a question of centre and periphery. Turkey was not able to fully integrate its eastern and south-eastern provinces, nor was this the case with socialist states like Yugoslavia with its south-western periphery and Bulgaria with its southern periphery.

Transitions of Family Structures

Family relations as well as gender relations never change in an evolutionary way from multiple to simple family structure and finally to the single household, from patriarchal structure to gender equality. However, the tendency towards nuclearization of family structure becomes obvious in the second half of the 20th century and also patriarchal relations changed to more egalitarian ones. Many ways led to a simplification of family structures. The so-called stem family is one of the most important transition patterns from multiple household structures to nuclear ones. It has never existed in Eastern and South-eastern Europe as a deep rooted system, like in Western or Central Europe. The historical household cycle documented for the Principalities of Walachia and Mol- davia with its Roman traditions was closest to a stem family system. The predominant household cycle in Eurasia Minor was characterized by transitional stages between multiple and nuclear household constellations in the pre- modern era. Whereas in pre-industrial times, a formal stem family- configuration could have been one of these transitional stages, it became more frequent in the course of the 20th century. Stem family is considered here a 176 Patriarchy after Patriarchy family form, in which the successor married to the household co-resides with his aging parents, takes care of them until death and then takes the household under his or her command. The stem family was the result of social, administrative, and economic processes of modernization, especially after WWII, and the adaptation of traditional family structures to a new form of industrial society (Halpern 1980, 242- 268). Erlich’s classic study (Erlich 1966) on the transition of the Yugoslav family in the 1930s indicates a transformation process that took place, but the traditional elements were predominating in the southern parts of the country. The number of one married son or daughter living with the parents was low, but seemed to be increasing (Halpern 1975, 77-115; Biüaniü 1981). The modernizing measures after WWII were much more effective. Collectivization of land property had a rapid decrease of large families as a consequence. The nuclear household as an ideal became almost universal, but extended kin ties remained important. Laws of equal rights for women were put in place and customary inheritance laws that acknowledged only a male right of inheritance were turned into equal inheritance rights. The decrease of agricultural population was accomplished by an increasing migration of peasants to cities and towns and to other countries in Europe and overseas (the latter was the case especially in the former Yugoslavia and Greece) dating from the 1880s and especially since the 1960s. This labour migration fundamentally affected the traditional family systems. Money as a basis for wealth and well-being substituted immobile land property increasingly. The migrating brothers or sons were no longer interested in what were very often not very fertile and small inheritance portions and often left it to the one brother who remained at home. The egalitarian inheritance of land changed into a non-egalitarian one. The families in the Balkans and Turkey were exposed to increasing rates of family fissions, migration processes, and social transformations, in which the stem family gained importance. In this transitional stage, family kept its multiple forms but altered the tendency of horizontal into vertical stem family extension. It has to be stressed that this represents only one out of several paths of households towards a nuclear family system, which does not represent – and this has to be stressed – the final phase of the individualization process. Con- cerning these transitional processes, Halpern and Wagner made important observations, based on the village of Orašac in Central Serbia and the surrounding region. Although such micro-studies can hardly be generalized, it is evident that the value of their findings goes far beyond this village (Halpern & Wagner 1984, 23-60): (1) With the 20th century modernization, the multiple household structure was replaced by a contemporary pattern of stem and nuclear households – in both rural and urban areas. This household change represents a process of continuous adaptation and not abrupt termination. (2) It was a tendency to move from lateral extension – married brothers or the surviving spouse of one of them – to vertical ties across generations, as between father, son, and grandson. (3) Different types of household cycles can be observed, one of The Decline of Patriarchy 177 which is most important. A three or four generation lineally extended household goes through a complete cyclical development: the eldest generation – consisting of a married couple – dies off one by one, usually first the father, the granddaughter marries out, the grandson marries and his bride resides in the household and they have two children. In case of two grandsons, this means that only one remains at home, the other may set up an own household. In the second half of the 19th and in the 20th century, however, he usually migrated to a town. A tendency appears for the youngest son to remain home. Theoreti- cally, all can inherit but de facto daughters have had a tendency not to press their claims to inheritance of land. Also, the other sons may give up their claims. This is particularly true if a son has received some help in getting an education, learning a trade or services, and/or materials for help in building a house in town. (4) Underlying these structural patterns are a number of changes, which include new values for the limitation of family size, increasing longevity with the survival of the eldest generation into their sixties and seven- ties, and a continuing value for maintaining an extended household structure involving the coexistence and cooperation of diverse age groups. (5) Increased longevity, decreased mortality, and limitations placed on childbearing have combined with an existing ideology of agnatic affiliation to produce new kinds of household groupings. The brother-brother bond as part of the agnatic ideology on which the multiple household was based is no longer of primary importance. Halpern and Wagner’s findings for Orašac do not reflect a unique situation. Data for ten more villages and towns not far from Orašac for 1863 is available. The data show similar proportions for the rural villages, but a very low percentage of multiple and stem family households for the towns of Arandjelovac and Kruševac. In most cases, the percentage of the stem family type is higher than that of the multiple type (Table 31). Albanian data can be added to this cross-cultural comparison for 1930 and 1950. The villages of the first census conducted by the Albanian state (1930) represent diverse regions and religions of the country: Gur i Zi (Northern Alba- nia, mixed Muslim-Catholic), Hot (Northern Albania, Catholic), Shkallnuer (Central Albania, Muslim), Terove (Southeast Albania, Orthodox), Zhej (Sou- thern Albania, Orthodox). The three villages of the year 1950 represent the Catholic population of the mountainous regions of Northern Albania (Table 32). In analyzing these data, we can say that percentages of Albanian multiply structured households are generally significantly higher than those of the Ser- bian village, the percentages of the Albanian stem families are generally lower, and the percentages of the nuclear families similar to those of Orašac. Gener- ally, it can be stated that the Albanian 1930 and 1950 figures are much more comparable with the proportions of Serbian villages in 1863 (table 31). These findings fit into our hypothesis of the stem family in the Balkans as one of the 178 Patriarchy after Patriarchy transitional stages from predominantly multiple structured into predominantly nuclear oriented households. Household-cycles are affected by regional variations and speeds of modernization and adapt themselves by changing from horizontal extension into a vertical one. Due to modernization processes of the 20th century, the multiplicity of household structures changed from a focus on horizontal extension to a stress on vertical extension. This kind of adaptation process gave the stem family structure greater importance than ever before.

Table 31: Household Typology of Eleven Serbian Villages and Towns (in per cent, 1863)

Orašac Arandjelovac Bukovik Topola Vrbica Banja Kopljare Stojnik Vranovo Kruševac Lazarica solitaries 0.8 41.6 11.1 4.4 9.8 12.9 3.3 8.8 4.3 31.0 8.6 no family 0.8 2.3 7.4 3.6 2.4 3.8 2.2 2.9 5.2 2.3 2.2 simple 35.9 45.2 38.9 46.4 39.0 30.6 44.0 37.6 48.3 56.2 63.4 extended 13.7 9.0 20.4 11.6 14.6 15.6 13.2 16.5 15.5 8.2 10.8 multiple* 22.2 1.3 16.6 15.6 17.5 17.2 20.9 17.0 11.2 0.4 5.0 stem 26.7 0.5 5.6 18.4 16.6 19.9 16.5 17.1 15.5 1.8 10.1 Towns are Arandjelovac, Topola, and Kruševac * This category does not include stem family constellations Source: Balkan family databank: Balkan family project at University of Graz

Table 32: Family Composition of Orašac (1961) Compared to Albanian Vil- lages 1930 and 1950 (in per cent)

1961 1930 1950 Orašac Gur i Zi Hot Shkallnuer Terove Zhej Plan-Gjuraj Pepsumaj Abat solitaries 5.1 1.1 16.0 7.8 – 11.8 – 4.3 6.1 no family 1.3 1.1 8.0 3.1 – 3.9 6.7 – 2.0 simple 36.9 34.8 30.0 43.8 40.0 26.3 20.0 31.9 30.6 extended 24.4 20.2 22.0 15.6 16.7 31.6 40.0 21.3 24.5 multiple 2.4 1.1 10.0 14.1 13.3 16.3 6.6 13.5 20.4 stem 29.8 19.1 14.0 15.6 30.0 10.5 26.7 19.1 16.3 Source: Balkan family database: Balkan family project at University of Graz

In Turkey, this stem family constellation seemed not to be very widespread in the second half of the 20th century. According to the census of 1968, only 5.0% of household heads lived together with one married son (6.7% in villages) (Ti- mur 1981, 64). Here, another transition pattern appeared in the course of modernization processes. There is no evidence of a tendency towards a “modern” The Decline of Patriarchy 179 family form with a more egalitarian, companionate husband-wife bond and joint decision-making until the 1980s. In the majority of Turkish families, there was no strong single centre of intra-familial relationships. Instead, each adult tended to focus on his/her own rather separate social network. Thus, in a “nuclear” family, in which the conjugal role-relationships were highly segregated, there are two “foci” – the husband and the wife – a type that can be described as “duofocal”. This concept provides an alternative to both the concept of uni- lateral dominance by the patriarch in a multiple family and to the concept of a married couple as the primary dyad in a nuclear family. The duofocal nuclear family has to be defined less in terms of dyadic relationships between husband and wife than in terms of relationships, which were cut across nuclear family, household, and even kinship boundaries (Olson 1982, 35pp; Henkel 2007, 61). Given this pattern of socialization and the strength of the social networks in which each spouse is already involved at the time of marriage, it is not surprising that the relationship of husband and wife in Turkey tended to be less a primary dyad than a bridge between the foci of two rather independent social networks. Thus, a Turkish marriage tended to be more nearly the juxtaposition of two networks than the uniting of two individuals because marriage was super- imposed on these pre-existing relations. After marriage, the couple’s respective networks of friends and/or relatives would expect each of them to continue cooperating and socializing separately with their old predominantly same-sex group, much as before their marriage, although their new responsibilities as a married man and woman were also recognized (Olson 1982, 52). The stem family and the duofocal family represent two of a variety of transition patterns from traditional family forms to “modern” nuclearized family forms. When the former is described for the Balkans and the latter for Turkey, this does not mean that they existed only in these respective regions; both were and are present in both regions. This is also the case with another transition pattern, the rural-urban family. Migration from rural to urban areas has been so pervasive in the past decades since about 1950 that it has become a major factor of social change in Turkey. During 1960-65, 880,000 people migrated from rural to urban areas, constituting 65% of the growth of 1,361,000 in urban populations during this time. Value changes and new lifestyles were the consequence. However, confusion rather than replacement of traditional values by new ones may ensue from migration, and this is often attributed to a time gap between the abandonment of traditional values and the subsequent adoption of new ones to replace them. As many families from the same village commonly moved to the same gecekondu area at various times, village and kinship solidarity were extended into the city. Communal help can be functional in the solution of such diverse problems as building a house, finding a job, obtaining credit, and obtaining access to some health services. However, these ties of support and solidarity functioning as a buffer mechanism may also hinder rapid adjustment and the development of 180 Patriarchy after Patriarchy urban identity. This situation might also perpetuate re-identification with the rural village values at the expense of new urban values. Full urban identification is dependent on integration into the urban economy through stable employment in industrial services, through a shift from informal types of self- employment into the formal, organized sector (Kâgitçibasi 1982, 14pp.). Therefore, besides the stem family and the duofocal family, the rural-urban household constitutes another transition from the traditional family form into a “modern” one. This means a functional integration of one or more rural and urban households. The rural family sent its children to the city; the family became a rural-urban, quasi-extended household, or a “travelling household”. This kind of household can cross borders: Muslim villages in Bulgaria have twin-villages in Turkey, and regular bus lines relate them (Konstantinov 2001, 43-51). Ideally and from a contemporary perspective, this quasi-extended, travelling household consists of two families and three generations. The “old parents” were born around 1920. Their children were born in the 1950s and 1960s and went to live in the city. The “old parents” supported them permanently (especially with food and money for purchasing an apartment and furniture). They also supported the education of the grandchildren, which were born in the 1970s and 1980s. Although not co-resident and with separated household economies, there are sufficient reasons to consider this kin-based network as one household. The main reason was the “bridging ethos” that linked both households and the three generations. Symbolically, the two households were united, although spatially separated. This household is no longer a patriarchal one, since the “old parents” support the younger generations almost endlessly. This symbolic union is reflected in the naming practise for the grandchildren. In many cases, in Bulgaria for instance, they got compromise names – one part reflecting modernity, the other part reflecting “honour” to the grandparents. One example is the name “Doniela”. The name suggests modernity and sounds good and it includes part of the traditional grandmother’s name “Donka”. After 1989, this kind of extended family is in danger: the grandparents probably already died, the second generation lost their jobs, and transportation became extremely expensive (“the children cannot come even if they want to”) (Ibid. 59-63). This form of rural-urban family constitutes also a transitional shift from rural to urban family. This does not result in a similar degree of decrease of masculinity, since the disconnection from the rural background is a process that can last for a long time.

The Urban Family

In Western and Northern Europe, extended family structures had become rare in urban contexts by the 1950s: father, mother and two children became the norm. From the 1970s and 1980s onward, European urban households began to The Decline of Patriarchy 181 experience a number of parallel evolutions, giving way to an enormous variety of new co-residential arrangements in the 1990s. Traditional household multiplicity is being substituted by new multiplicity in form, for instance, the patchwork family. The households increasingly began to consist of only one or two adults. There is a rise of one-person households; the number of two-person households remained constant. In most of the countries, already in the 1980s, about one fifth to one third of all households consisted of men or women living independently (Janssens 203, 104p.). This was due to a number of developments: (1) rising living standards and changing family norms enabled young unmarried people to establish a household of their own, without starting a family at the same time. (2) Rising life expectancy contributed to a number of elderly living alone in the last phase of their life. Elderly women began to make up the majority of one-person households. (3) Divorce rates have further contributed to new forms of one-parent households with children. In the 19th century, one-parent households resulted from high mortality rates and high rates of young women dying in childbirth. In the second half of the 20th century, separation and divorce were the reasons behind this. Single-parent households were nearly all female-headed. Whereas single-parent households were less in the Mediterranean in the 1990s, in the socialist countries, single parenthood, following divorce, was on the increase as well. Single parenthood was not a permanent situation in many cases. Most of the single parents and divorced men and women eventually entered a second marriage. Men were more likely to remarry (Ibid. 105pp.). More than elsewhere in Europe, in some of the Balkan countries as well as Turkey, urban households retained many characteristics of a rural society and of patriarchal family traditions and ideology. The existence of three-generation families remained common. This kind of household has to be considered as a remnant of the rural tradition of family farming and the influx of rural migrants to cities with insufficient housing services. The nuclear family did not so much capture the Balkan family experience (Ibid. 104p.). Interesting in this general context is Hammel’s inquiry on the relationship between urbanization and family cohesion with respect to the patriarchal core of gender relations, the brother- brother dyad, and the father-son dyad in Yugoslavia in the middle of the 1960s. In substance, although the brother or the son left the village in order to migrate to the city, the relations continued to be very strong. This was achieved by frequent visits and mail contact. Despite the revolution in personal, cultural, and economic life, family relations remained stable. After having successfully settled in the new urban environment, these male-centred dyadic bonds had not weakened, on the contrary: they became even stronger. His prognosis, however, was that on the long turn, these dyadic relations would necessarily become weaker. During this period of transformation, different phases of transition from the traditional into an urban type of two-generation household were to register. During the first phase, the family members, also those already living in cities, would deliver all their income to their household of origin and 182 Patriarchy after Patriarchy therefore, would continue to be a functioning economic unit. In the second phase, the urban section of the family would keep back money for transportation and cigarettes; in a third phase, they would only pay a certain amount of money to the family of origin and received in exchange certain services such as food, cleaning of textiles, or the usage of a bedroom. The last phase consists in the complete dissolution of the rural-urban household. Sons would settle permanently in the city (Hammel 1977, 401-415). Turkey has experienced a major population shift from the countryside to urban areas in the decades after 1950. The migrants were poor peasants engaged in eking out a subsistence living on relatively small family farms in their natal villages. These families were thought of as the embodiment of the most typical and traditional Turkish household structure (Duben 1982, 74p.). Timur’s study (Timur 1969) indicates a significantly higher percentage of multiple households in rural areas (25.4%) than in the three major metropolises in the country (4.6%), in which most of the migrants resided. Timur’s study also revealed that 12.4% of all metropolitan households that were not qualified as extended were more multiple than nuclear family households, that is, they contained either both parents, a single parent, or a sibling or other relatives of one of the members of the married couple. The percentage for rural areas was very close to this: 13.3%. If one added these percentages to those of the extended family households, the figures for household types larger than the nuclear were 17% for the three metropolises and 38.7% for rural areas (Ibid. 75p.). The rural-urban contrast, therefore, was not terribly great. Interestingly, the gecekondu areas appeared to have an even higher percentage of nuclear family households than the metropolises as a whole. In rural areas, Timur discovered that the percentage of nuclear family households was highest among the poorest agriculturalists: 63.3% for sharecroppers, 79.3% for agricultural labourers, but only 33.8% for all farmers who owned their own land. The extended household was associated with the largest landholders. Seventy-four per cent of all rural households owned fewer than five hectares. Given the fact that most migrants to the cities come from among the ranks of the small landholders and of the landless, one must conclude that movement to the city in Turkey has probably not resulted in a shift in household type from extended to nuclear. This also means that there was no significant influence of urban life on the traditional rural patrilineal extended family household (Ibid. 78p.). It has been often assumed that migration to the cities was accompanied by a general decline of kinship ties. In gecekondu neighbourhoods, nearly 60% of all personal relations were with relatives and old village friends. Of new friend- ships initiated in the city, nearly 70% were between people who met on the worksite. What these studies fail to mention was that the large numbers of small factories and ateliers in which gecekondu men worked were quite often staffed by people who shared some personal linkage – if not kinship ties, then common regional origin, ethnicity, or the like. A study in 1978 revealed that The Decline of Patriarchy 183 the majority of the respondents had access to their first jobs in the city through the assistance of relatives and acquaintances (Ibid. 83). The demographic features of the gecekondu family had remained the same until the early 1980s: the family had been always nuclear in general; its size was between the urban (4.6) and rural (6.2) averages, but approaching the urban average. Marriages took place at early years (18 or even below for women, 18- 22 for men). Families with 2-3-4 children were in the majority. The average woman had her first child at the average age of 22. Rates of divorce and separation were low, and so was the rate of crime. Compared to the first generation, the level of education was higher in the second generation (Senyapili 1982, 237). In Greece, the establishment of an urban household became increasingly linked to inflationary dowries. Various elements seemed to play together. The tradition of female inheritance in Mediterranean Greece resulted possibly in the bride’s family ambition to increase her status through a hypergamous marriage; this might have resulted in increased demands of the groom’s family (Goody 1990, 459). In recent changes in the system of rural dowries in Greece, negotiation was a powerful factor; there was a shift from land to cash, to negotiable wealth that could be used to acquire houses in the town, partly because of the enormous pressure of urban migration in the post-war period. Since it was women who received property at marriage, while men had to wait until the death of their fathers, the bride’s dowry often served to establish the young couple in the non-agricultural sector. Hence, there was pressure from both husband and wife to increase the dowry, partly because migrants had to set up in the town, partly because of the general rise in consumer demands. Therefore, in the second half of the 20th century, Greece was experiencing an inflation of dowries, which formed the main means of passing down wealth between the generations. Women retained ultimate title to this property that tends to be transmitted between females, from mothers to daughters. The increase in direct dowries also represented a shift in the timing of inheritance, the stress being placed on the pre-mortem transmission to maintain the status of daughters at marriage. In some cases, this leads to the “semi-impoverishment” of the parents (Ibid. 460). Meanwhile, changes in the productive system are linked to the increased importance of a woman’s non-domestic occupation and ultimately to the decreased importance of transfers at marriage. When women are differentiated less by property than by training, the parental investment goes into education. If a woman has to accumulate a dowry herself by entering into employment, she becomes less dependent not only on the senior generation but also on formal marriage itself. To acquire such urban employment, women increasingly need education (Ibid. 462). Migration and urbanization resulted in questioning traditional gender roles in Greece in the second half of the 20th century. Research in the 1970s revealed that the most important family value still was philotimo – the correct fulfilling 184 Patriarchy after Patriarchy of obligations towards the other family members; to sacrifice oneself for those who are considered family members. This key value – as research shows two decades later – was diminishing in its impact on young people in urban areas, which was related to the diminishing significance of the family in an environment such as Athens. Whereas in the rural family, the pater familias still can play his role and decide everything, in Athenian nuclear families, the father’s social role was reduced in relation to the mother’s role. Athenian parents could be classified as uncertain about the traditional family roles; their children reject these traditional roles. In this process of disintegration of the traditional collectivist family system and the gradual adoption of the nuclear family system, certain family values are retained and others are discarded. The children reject traditional hierarchical structures, daughters more than sons do. Certain key values such as philotimo disappear. Other traditional values that concern familial relationships, such as obligations of children towards parents and relatives, are still functional (Georgas 1991, 447p., 454p.). The period of time from about 1950 until 1990 was turbulent ones for the families of Eurasia Minor. Without exaggeration, these were decades of the most rapid and most profound change in family and gender relations in history. “Nu- clearization” was considered here as a weakening of formal family bonds. Ex- tensive household relations, incorporated into multiple and extended family forms, were reduced; the focus was increasingly transferred to the conjugal unit. This process was complex and cannot be captured by an evolutionary hypothesis that understands this process as “natural”. Three transition patterns are mentioned here, but in reality, there are more. By 1990, it was not clear where all these processes would end up. What seem to be as an irreversible process of these four decades are the de-agrarization process and the urbanization of the family. By the end of the period, the majority of families lived in areas formally defined as cities. These processes were abrupt and took place in a short time – even in Turkey and Greece. One could think about what “urbanization” and “urban family” concretely mean in time and space; urbanity is not a “value” per se. It would be an illusion to assume that rural-urban migration results in a profoundly different family constellation and gender ideology. Mi- grants brought their rural infrastructure with them and adapted it to the urban environment. The outcome of this process of hybridization might vary from case to case, as well as the existing or – caused by wars or economic constraints – re-vitalized rural-urban bonds. Thus, “nuclearization” remains a classification that makes sense in terms of a formal view on family form, as reflected in census results. The socialist regimes aimed at the destruction of the patriarchal family. In their early and still revolutionary times, they thought about destroying it and replacing it with free sexual relations that could be agreed upon and dissolved whenever people wished. This ambitious project, if ever a good idea, ended up in realism – socialist realism. The reasons were manifold: wars and enormous losses of population, industrialization without modern technology, and eco- The Decline of Patriarchy 185 nomic constraints. Socialist realism meant to call the bourgeois family “socialist family” and to frame it with socialist ideology and a legal setting that hardly met reality. The interventionist socialist state and a paternalistic Party clipped patriarchy’s most important claws – the economic and emotional dependencies of the rest of the household on the powerful patriarch. This was formally achieved by a high level of education and women’s inclusion into the labour force by liberalization of divorce and abortion. If we take the crucial points of which traditional patriarchy consists from Chap- ter 1 and compare them to the situation around 1990, we have to conclude that Turkish society kept most of them and the socialist states eliminated most of them. There is the generational aspect. In Turkey, the father or elder’s rule still remains largely unquestioned. In the post-socialist societies, generational relations, however, have been reversed. The parents and grandparents support children and grandchildren as far as possible. They take care of their housing, support them at marriage, support them if they want to attend University, and help in child rearing. The principle of seniority turned into a principle of juniority. Patrilineality and the related honour complex do not play any functional role in post-socialist society; this has also to be seen under the aspect that inheritance in socialist society lost its function compared to a traditional agrarian society. Patrilocality has lost its functional role as well; although in cases of space shortage, the young couple would prefer a temporary patrilocal living arrangement in most of the cases. Except for the core regions of patriarchy, the traditional patriarchy had become history. This was not so in Turkey. Here, practically all features of traditional patriarchy are still present, in the east and southeast of the country more pronounced than in the west, in the countryside at a higher profile than in the cities. The main reason behind this is that the social change introduced has been executed only half-heartedly. In this situation, Turkish society became confronted with a re-strengthening Islamic movement. The project of state feminism proved rather fragile. When the two projects – state patriarchy and state feminism – are compared to each other, state patriarchy was doubtless more successful. The problem of socialist modernization was the details, which are yet important for women. As soon as all these visions of gender equality appeared on the horizon, people began to take advantage of them, women more intensively than men. Divorces and abortions began to increase to an enormous extent. The state, in fact, lost control when it tried to impose its own planning on everything. This was the momentum from which the patriarchal state was invented (in Albania from the very beginning, in Romania and Bulgaria in the middle of the 1960s; in Yugoslavia things were never quite so clear-cut). The Party began to discover its demographic aims, and thus the woman’s body. What patriarchs had done in their micro-worlds, state and Party now organized in grand style by organizing the patriarchal state: high fertility rates, family as the only legal place of reproduction, early age at marriage, and universality of marriage. Even patrilocality was kept upright because of residential shortages. By setting these 186 Patriarchy after Patriarchy priorities, the Party was willing to pay a price: privacy for the rest of the remaining traditional gender relations. By observing the priorities, people were left alone in the negotiation of gender relations, which usually took on the form of double-burden of women. When Walby analyses the transformation of private patriarchy of traditional agrarian society into public patriarchy of industrialized society – without extin- guishing the important features of the former – she does it primarily in the context of Great Britain. She correctly points to the achievements of British women’s movements. The patriarchal regimes of Eurasia Minor practically eliminated women’s movements or put it under their umbrella. This gave them e- nough manoeuvring space to establish a perfect combination of public and private patriarchy (Greece and Turkey not excluded). Walby identifies six structures that characterize patriarchal orders of western societies: (1) the expropria- tion of women’s household labour by their husbands and cohabitees; (2) the exclusion of women from the better forms of work and segregation into inferior jobs that are deemed to be less skilled; (3) the state has a systematic bias towards patriarchal interests in its politics and actions; (4) male violence constitutes a behaviour routinely experienced by women from men; (5) privileged heterosexuality and the sexual double standard are two of the key forms of uneven patriarchal relations in sexuality; (6) cultural institutions, which create the representation of women from a patriarchal viewpoint in numerous arenas, such as religions, education, and the media. The socialist states were even better than Great Britain in establishing these structures. In addition, Turkey’s patriarchal state performed badly. In the last years of the 20th century, only about 10% of Turkish women were economically active outside the family, somewhat less than in Egypt and Syria. In terms of gender development, according to the United Nations Development Programme, Turkey ranks 71st, just behind Sri Lanka and Lebanon, and just ahead of Peru, Paraguay and Oman, but far behind Bulgaria and Romania. The Kemalist revolution was an important and iconoclastic moment of “reactive modernization”. Its basic limitations were its abstention from a radical agrarian reform and the slow pace of industrialization and economic development (Therborn 2006, 89). Thus, the conclusion is obvious that the process of abolishment of patriarchal control in Eurasia Minor remained unfinished at the last decade of the 20th century. This was also the case in the rest of the world, but the question is whether the region is slip- ping into a new mode of patriarchy. CHAPTER 3

The Continuity of Patriarchy

“Do not leave a woman’s back wanting for beatings nor her womb wanting for babies.” (Turkish proverb) (Turkish Daily News, November 5, 2006, 4)

The history of gender relations in Eurasia Minor has indicated that the respective form of the state had been responsible for the respective form of practised gender relations. With the end of the socialist state (1989-91), the project of the patriarchal state ended abruptly. At about the same time, the Kemalist project of state feminism faded away. The Islamistic feminist movement has been winning significant ground. One of the basic questions, therefore, again is: What kind of impact does the changing character of the state have on gender relations? Although still significant, this issue has been relativized by the appearance of additional social forces. Since the Communist ivory tower fell and the iron curtain was removed, family and social relations have been exposed to neo-liberalism and increasing globalization, the latter also caused by labour migration and increasing communication density; Greece and Turkey are no exceptions, although family and gender relations here developed differently from each other and differently from the former socialist world. Since 1989, gender and family relations are exposed to the same structural forces everywhere. The EU has become a powerful social agent in a region whose countries in different intensity yearn for access to the new European structures, if not yet achieved. But this is not the only option for a country such as Turkey, since the Islamic world has found itself in a process of reformulation and redefinition, and in the future, the country may concentrate its forces in this region instead of in the EU. The peoples of Eurasia Minor – social collectives as well as individuals – have never had so much freedom in choosing their ways of life, although under harsh economic conditions. Nevertheless, they have become more than ever in history unignorable actors in a multi-faced and multi- perspective gender quarrel. Nobody knows how it will end, if ever. In the western world, family and gender relations in the course of the second half of the 20th century had changed dramatically. Women began to look for alternatives to male oppression and fought for means to realize them: abortion, divorce, remarriage, and economic independence. Far from being considered ideal, family patchwork became increasingly reality; the battle against male domination was and still is painful because it harms emotional relationships. In the first two chapters of this book, it was easy to differentiate Eurasia Minor’s gender relations, family and kinship patterns from the rest of the world. The socialist state had protected the family as a social institution, which became 188 Patriarchy after Patriarchy increasingly nuclearized, at least where housing situation allowed. Some formal structures were kept intact, such as the almost universality of marriage, young age at marriage, and young age at first birth. This exactly is the right place to remind ourselves of the potentials of histoire croisée discussed in the introduction of this book. New structural forces and newly defined individual or family life-course perspectives are mixing a new amalgam of gender relations. The first tendencies are visible, even though they are contradictory. Into which direction is the region croiséeing? Into one or multiple directions? Data in the forthcoming chapter will speak, indeed, for a slow amalgamation into “western” family and gender patterns – except maybe Turkey; indications might favour a hypothesis of social relations of Eurasia Minor converging with those of the western world. However, certain experience should make us cautious in making evolutionary prognoses. In the middle of the 1960s, family sociologist William Goode (Goode 1964) projected that the plurality of family forms worldwide will become reduced and homoge- nised, being absorbed by the western pattern and values. Half a century later, many indicators contradict Goode’s prognosis. Just to mention one important point: while in Western Europe and North America, the formal family is falling apart, giving way increasingly to various forms of partnership and quasi-family relations, it seems to remain as an institution almost as firm and unquestioned as five decades, or so, ago, in Eastern and South-eastern Asia. The history of family, kinship, and gender relations is no one-way history – and we should avoid being dazzled by figures and by a self-satisfying imagination of an automatic distribution of seemingly universal western values over the region. We have to look at data that indicate globalization, but we have also to look at clues indicating a re-traditionalization of Eurasia Minor’s societies, e.g. the increasing displacement of women from the public sphere, the obvious re- strengthening of Islam in secularistic Turkey, the increasingly attractive male breadwinner model, and the longing for the establishment of a direct link between the present and the “golden” era before socialism. After decades of strengthened, although ideologized state institutions, former stable institutions almost disappeared in post-socialist countries. Women are the losers in the so- called transition-process, while male dominance is gaining ground. After about eight decades, Mustafa Kemal and Stalin had declared the so-called “women’s question” resolved – are we witnesses of a patriarchal backlash? It is the delicate aim of the book’s final chapter to evaluate gender relations of the last one and a half decades or so since 1990, in the bright light of its history as well as in the more diffuse light of its current development. This is not an easy task, since data is contradictory. For most countries this book is dealing with, “transition” means a backlash from an interventionist (socialist) state to a half-tributary one, although “tributary” does not mean the same as in pre- industrial society. More or less institutionalized social relations have been de- volving into personalized ones since socialism. This includes the re- strengthening of forms of private patriarchy and the even more important re- The Continuity of Patriarchy 189 formulation of public patriarchy; the latter is clearly documented by the retreat of women from the public sphere, public labour, and political life. Providing for social security for women, therefore, has become much more difficult than for men. The new democracies are male dominated. Although most of the governments have expressed their willingness to join the EU, their commitments to its rules, including gender mainstreaming and gender budgeting for instance, seem to be rather half-hearted. On the other hand, after decades of agony, women’s movements have gained ground again and increasingly fight for equality of women in society. Transition economies force men and women into international labour migration. Even if they are able to cross the Schengen-border, labour migration is not, and has never been, gender-neutral. After decades of enforced “socialist progress”, societies in the region tend towards conservativism and conservative values as one of their reactions. The “the nation” has been re-evaluated; conservativism and concentration on “the nation” are usually not gender-neutral either and lay, for instance, stress on fertility and motherhood as stabilizing elements of the development of a nation – especially in the context of high migration rates. Religion and religious values also come into the negotiation of social relations as well as the hotly dis- puted question of veiling in Turkey. On the other hand, demographic trends, which cannot be completely channelled by political measures, are paving their ways: the FDT is coming to its final phase in Turkey and among the Albanian population; indicators of the so-called SDT, although weak and unevenly distributed over the region, cannot be overlooked. Again, developments such as these are not gender-neutral and have to be analyzed carefully. The future of societal development finally depends on the conceptions of the young generation. How does it think about gender relations?

1. Personalized Relationships

“How can we ever be part of Europe? I have been to Vienna and I tell you when you get back to Romania, Serbia, and Bulgaria, you are in a different world. We are so far behind. We are all just aborigines here.” (Young Bulgar- ian Man) (Creed 1998, 275)

The period since 1989 in most of scholarly literature is qualified as “transition”. Terms such as “modernization” or “westernization” indicate a one-way path of social change, although in reality this was never the case. A similar problem with the term “transition” is that it aims to mark the transformation of former socialist political and economic systems into western-styled parliamentary democracies and liberal economies. Increasingly, scholars have been not- ing the disadvantages of using the metaphor of “transition”: it implies the no- 190 Patriarchy after Patriarchy tion that in a certain phase of history, all aspects of societal change are in con- cert and in the same direction. This also homogenizes state socialism, which, despite its distinctive ideological systemic structure, nevertheless took many forms and many phases in the different countries of the region. The approach also homogenizes capitalism, glossing over its varying and uneven forms, and the partially contingent, open-endedness of social change. Stage thinking and the concomitant expectation of predictable change make it as hard to notice genuine innovations as to take account of continuities with the past. Instead of the term “transition” with its teleological assumptions, one should better speak of transitions as of different pathways from the past (Gal & Kligman 2000, 11p.), which allow to explain the different paths post-socialist societies followed also in the gender issue after 1989. These “multiple transitions” (Blago- jeviü 2006, 165), which are obviously part of the globalization process, are producing different effects of different segments of Eurasia Minor’s societies, although forces of globalization and neo-liberalism are shaping economy, politics, and cultures of its respective countries. We, therefore, cannot expect un- contradictory one-way developments and explanations. Another aspect of “transition” is “transition studies”, which are all too often gender-blind. Feminist transition and consolidation research has pointed out the gaps and blanks of this mainstream or “malestream” research. On the other side, however, are feminist studies of the transition process, which concentrate on the socio-structural developments with regard to women’s aspects, on the role of women’s movements, and on women in politics. The majority of feminist analyses are located at a micro-level and pay little attention to systemic, institutional, as well as historical aspects of the longue durée of the transformation of gender relations. Feminist transformation research points out a theoretical gap there, where the interaction of gender with political institutions, actors, and discourses in transformation and the consolidation process is the matter of concern (Sauer 2001, 26p.). Other studies prefer the term “transformation” instead of “transition”, which, again, includes, implicitly or explicitly, aspects of modernization theory: everything seemingly will end up in western modernity or post-modernity. Until now, no “politically powerful” alternative to the model of the modern western- capitalist society and its basic institutions of competitive democracy, free market economy, mass consumption, and welfare society exists, and therefore modernization theory is not without ground. Such systemic macro-theories of modernization usually overlook concepts of inequality and domination in gender relations, and normalize the gender differences existing in western societies. The pretended gender neutrality of theories of modernization normalizes social masculinity (Ibid. 27). Terminology is important, of course, because it indicates the fundamental outline of a book like this. Being no supporter of crude modernization theories, I see in practise multiple transitions in form of three streams in the region where gender relations are concerned: (1) “We are western and rich – so what?” (secularistic Turkish upper and middle-upper class); The Continuity of Patriarchy 191

(2) “Western feminism is nice, maybe too radical – we will do it in our way” (post-socialist societies, Greece); (3) “The western pattern of gender relations is amoral – we suggest the traditional or modern Islamic path” (mass of Turk- ish population). Leaving aside (1), a look at the socioeconomic realities explains to a certain degree positions (2) and (3). The aim of this subchapter is therefore twofold: (1) to look at economic and demographic realities under a gendered perspective, having in mind that the most urgent problem is providing social and personal security; (2) to have a look on the character of the state, its production of clientelistic networks and how they work. The underlying question is how multiple transitions are related to forms of gender relations.

Economic and Demographic Realities

In theory, the shift from socialist state economy to market economy is accompanied by the emergence of “civil society” – in other words, a society in which a rich web of associations mediates between individuals and families, on the one hand, and the state and its agencies, on the other hand. Organs of civil society take over most of the functions of the former almighty party. In theory, this civil society should obviate the need for individuals to manipulate kin and other interpersonal networks in order to receive public service. In a market economy, it should no longer be necessary to rely on family and friends to gain access to goods. However, there is a good deal of evidence suggesting that transitions in practise are not being regulated by rational, seemingly universal- istic criteria. In ways that are more diffuse, the quality of family lives may now be changing and – so the point of view of modernization theorists – there may be greater convergence with the modern West (Hann 1995, 108p.). As shortages of goods are eliminated, the importance of personal networks for basic provisioning is reduced, theoretically, but how is it in practise? Kinship, family, and the position of women have undergone further and significant changes in the Eastern Europe, in the Balkans, and in the Turkey of the 1990s. There is a wide measure of agreement that women have been among the chief casualties of the shift towards market economy and in the case of Turkey, the shift towards Islamistic values. They have disproportionate experience of redundancy, and because of their domestic roles, they have suffered most from the withdrawal of a range of state welfare benefits such as childcare and kin- dergarten provision (Ibid. 108). Migration, increasing unemployment, and impoverishment threatened the post- socialist societies, but, allegedly, especially women. After December 1989, in Romania over 600,000 people migrated from villages to towns, seeking jobs. By early 1990s, the rural population declined from over 80% at the beginning of the 20th century to 46%. However, in 1997, for the first time in Romanian 192 Patriarchy after Patriarchy history, the rural-urban flow reversed (Baban 1999, 193-196). Between 1990 and 1994, the average salary decreased to 52% of that of 1989. In 1994, 90% of the families with three children and 58% of the families with two children lived below the poverty line. State-guaranteed benefits to protect women, families, and children have been drastically cut. In 1994, the state budget for the support of children was 23% of the amount allocated in 1989. Social assistance for mothers with several children reached only 3% of its 1989 value (Băban 2000, 234). From 1990 to 2000, employment rates decreased by about 800,000 people in Serbia; from 2.7 to 1.9 million. Poverty and social inequalities increased dramatically. The average monthly salary under the auspices of hyperinflation decreased from about $ 300 in 1990 to about $ 30 in 1999. In 2000, about 60%, and in 2001, 46% of the total population lived below the poverty line. Poverty was feminized: in 1998, the overall unemployment rate was 780,436 people, 56.1% of them were women. In 1991, adult illiteracy in Central Serbia was 7.1%, and female illiteracy rate was 11.3% on the average (Ðuric-Kuzmanovic 2005, 36pp.). In Bulgaria too, transition led to mass impoverishment. Four fifths of the population fell below the minimum standard and about two thirds fell below the level of basic subsistence. Families with several children were among those who were in the worst situation. Transportation, mail, and telephone services became very expensive. The monthly costs for central heating approached that of an average pension. Unemployment affected women more than men at the beginning of the transition. In addition, women were less likely to find a job in better-paid private business. Employers showed an explicit preference for hir- ing men. This was possible because Bulgarian labour laws included no provisions against women’s discrimination. Women tended to hold positions lower in the hierarchy. Discrimination against women also is related to average wage levels. Women were and are overrepresented in sectors with low salaries. Work in education and medical care is generally low paid – and these constitute the most feminized professions. Divorced women with children were in an especially disadvantageous position in the late 1990s, because the assistance they received from their ex-husbands for raising the children, if any, was negligible. Since women retired at the age of 55, (five years earlier than men retire) and live longer, older women were condemned to meagre state pensions. Disap- pointment with professional work and low wages led to the desire to return to the family – nostalgia for security and as a utopian escape from uncertainty and growing stress (Daskalova 2000, 338-343). Numerous surveys show that women are primarily occupied in domestic labour. The surveys also show that women are considered to occupy a vastly inferior position within the family structure and that they have internalized the view that they are deficient in the fields of politics, business, and a number of other spheres of public life. A majority of women in Bulgaria perceive themselves to be unequal to men (Stoilo- va et al. 2000, 4pp.). The Continuity of Patriarchy 193

In post-socialist Bulgaria as well as in other countries of the region, poverty and ethnicity are strongly related. Data from the World Bank Survey of Poverty in 1999 (Table 33) reflects the poverty pattern among different ethnic groups. The ratio between Bulgarian Christians and the Roma minority was greater than four to one, which reveals a trend toward economic ghettoization of the Roma population (Mitev 2001, 43).

Table 33: Poverty Rates by Ethnic Group (in per cent, Bulgaria 1999)

Group Adults without Children Adults with Children Old-age Pensioners Total Bulgarian 10.4 14.7 18.9 14.7 Turkish 24.5 41.6 30.1 32.1 Roma 65.1 76.5 63.3 68.3 Source: Mitev 2001, 43

In Romania, the rate of unemployment for women was 1-2% higher than the average rate of unemployment in the period between 1991 and 1996 (Table 34), which is not a welcomed but also not a dramatic development.

Table 34: Unemployment Totals and Overall Population Rates for Women, Romania (in per cent, 1991-1996)

Year Unemployment Rate Unemployment Rate Women 1991 3.0 4.0 1992 8.2 10.3 1993 10.4 12.9 1994 10.9 12.9 1995 9.5 11.4 1996 6.3 7.3 Source: Magyari et al. 2001, 149

In the year 2000, in the neighbouring country of Moldova, 66% of the population lived below the poverty line, while the most affluent enjoyed 50.3% of the national income and the poorest 20% were left with only 3.4%. Forty per cent lived in absolute poverty (mostly in rural areas). More than 80% of the “new poor” were villagers. Public health protection was left to the people themselves. Many people could not afford expenses for medical services. The social costs of the transition had been dramatic. Thus, in 2000, the GDP per capita at purchasing power parity with $ 2,033 was the lowest in the region, and average life expectancy was only 67.4 years (Bodrug-Lungu 2004, 174p.). 194 Patriarchy after Patriarchy

The Caucasian republics of Armenia and Azerbaijan had progressed considerably during the socialist era. Women’s capabilities were well developed. Life expectancy and the literacy rate of adult women were high, and fertility rates and maternal mortality rates were low in 1990. Armenian women surpassed men in educational enrolments. In Azerbaijan, women’s political participation had been quite respectable. However, the two countries have been at war with each other. Both economies have experienced negative growth, and unemployment has grown. An official report from Azerbaijan stated that two thirds of the unemployed were women. In Armenia, although women constituted 47% of the labour force in 1995, they constituted 64% of the total amount of unemployed people. Women’s wages were about one third less than men’s earnings. Like in other Caucasian republics, the transition in Armenia seems to have latent and manifest patriarchal attitudes. The economic restructuring had hit women harder than men. The two major causes are the persistence of traditional gender ideology regarding men and women’s roles in general, and the estimation of women as second breadwinners at best, specifically (Moghadam 2000, 29-34). Although the situation in the Caucasus is worsening, Turkey lags behind the Caucasian countries on nearly all social indicators, including female labour force participation. The vast majority of the Turkish labour force is in agriculture. Female labour force participation rates are very low, especially in urban areas. Women represent less than 20% of the urban salaried workforce (Ibid. 38p.). The stagnation of Turkey compared to MENA states is remarkable (Ta- ble 35). Turkey’s data is in striking contrast to the data of neighbouring MENA countries. If we take figures rating “female economic activity rate”, which include unofficial employment, Turkey’s position is much better (51.2%), but this reflects primarily the situation of an informal labour market. The Greek and Aus- trian figures are low, compared to the relatively high figures of Turkey, which probably is the result of different modes of data collection. Data suggest that women’s unemployment rates in post-socialist countries compared to that of men is not so significant in relation to Turkey’s unemployment rates. Female economic activity is strongly related to the question of how to provide social security. Another aspect of the non-integration of women into the official labour market is that taking care for the elderly is considered women’s duty under the circumstances of very low rates of institutional care. The Continuity of Patriarchy 195

Table 35: Evolution of Labour Force Participation of Selected MENA Coun- tries

Country Year Female Labour Force Participation (in per cent) Morocco 1960 5.9 1971 8.0 1975 7.9 1982 11.6 1990 38.8 1995 59.5 Tunisia 1966 3.0 1975 12.6 1984 13.3 1990 32.9 1995 35.0 Turkey 1985 21.9 1990 34.2 1997 27.8 Source: Moghadam 2003, 50

Table 36: Female Economic Activity Rate (2003)

Country Per Cent Slovakia 62.6 Armenia 62.3 Albania 60.2 Moldova 60.2 Bulgaria 55.8 Georgia 55.7 Azerbaijan 55.2 Slovenia 54.3 Turkey 51.2 Serbia and Montenegro 50.8 Romania 50.3 Macedonia 50.1 Bosnia and Herzegovina 50.1 Austria 44.2 Greece 38.7 Source: Human Development Report 2005 196 Patriarchy after Patriarchy

Providing for Social Security

Social care in a pre-industrialized society had depended on the firmness of patriarchal relations. Was the elder generation able to force the younger generation to take care of it in old age; if yes, by which means and involving which concessions? This question was to a high degree gender-biased. Would the elder generation take care of a sick female child in a patrilineally structured society to the same extent as of a sick male child? Things generally changed through industrialization and socialism. Patrilineal solidarity and patrilocal marriage became increasingly weaker in the socialist, as well as in the non- socialist state. Female offspring could become important, when the question arose as to who would take care of the elder generation in a world of dramatically increasing life expectancy. In this question, the differentiation of personalized and institutionalized social relations again comes into play. Is taking care of relatives in old age considered a private or an institutional matter? This is also a question of available public resources. In Eurasia Minor, a welfare state, in the sense that institutions take care of the elderly generation, has never been developed, not even in socialist times. The systems of kindergartens and other support-institutions such as centres for self- educational mothers could never be established in a sufficient way. Social well- being remained the task of the family, the parent-children, the grandparent- grandchildren or other forms of family obligations (Zivkovic 2006, 257p.). Romania and Bulgaria can be considered representative for Eurasia Minor. A survey on living arrangements of people aged 65 and higher, around 1990, reveals that both in Bulgaria and Romania, the proportion of the elderly population not living in private households was less than 1%, while that for Estonia and the Czech Republic was somewhat more but still about half of that of the Finnish population (6.7%). The prevalence of institutional living was much higher among women than men, among never married people than people of other marital statuses, and among older than younger elderly people. In Bul- garia, the highest level was among divorced men of eighty years and older. In Romania, the highest male level was among never-married men under 80 years of age. In the western household composition pattern, most married elders lived only with a spouse instead of living in a multigenerational household with a child, and many unmarried elders lived alone. Forty-two per cent of unmarried elders in Bulgaria lived with a child. In Romania and Bulgaria, living alone may have been common but not living alone was common as well (de Vos & Sandefur 2002, 21-29). Table 37 shows that in the living arrangements of persons aged 65 in Romania and Bulgaria, a significant number lived with one child, whereas in Finland or in the Czech Republic, living with a child is rather unusual. The Continuity of Patriarchy 197

Table 37: Living Arrangements of Persons Aged 65 (in per cent), Unmarried, 1989-1992

Country Alone with Child with other Relative with Non-relative Institution Finland 70 12 0.1 7.0 6.7 Czech Rep. 66 21 5.0 1.0 3.9 Estonia 53 34 5.0 5.0 2.6 Romania 51 36 6.0 5.0 0.6 Bulgaria 50 42 4.0 2.0 0.9 Source: de Vos & Sandefur 2002, 30

Because of the different life expectancies, the inevitable greater tendency for women compared to men of the same age to live alone everywhere is apparent (Ibid. 21-30). The question, in the Turkish case, is whether urbanization and economic development at the aggregate level (ranging from economically less developed to more developed regions), modernity at the individual level, and increased levels of secularism resulted in a decline in co-residing of elder family members. Historically, elderly persons have been taken care of by the family members regardless of whether the elderly lived in an extended or a nuclear family household. Adult children, especially married sons, have always been seen as security in old age. In 1988, less than 1% of the elderly lived in nursing homes. Recent demographic changes may challenge these traditional values. Even though at present, Turkey has a young population (one third is under the age of 15), decline of the fertility rate will lead to population aging. Survey results show that 22% of the sample lives with an elderly and 48% live nearby an elderly family member. Those who live in Eastern Turkey, the least developed region, are more likely to co-reside with the elderly. Those who live in the metropolitan areas are less likely to do so. If the elderly are better off financially, relative to the householder, the respondents are much more likely to co- reside with them. The odds of living with elderly due to tradition are 2.8 times higher if the elderly own the respondents’ residence. Both indicators of the elderly financial resources also raise the odds of living with the elderly, when they need help, by around 1.8 times. Turkish families maintain close family ties regardless of whether they co-reside or live nearby. The probability of living with the elderly due to tradition is lower in the more developed regions. The incidence of living nearby is quite high (around half), suggesting that Turkish families prefer to have privacy while maintaining close family ties. The importance of family ties is demonstrated by the fact that around 70% either co- resides or lives nearby the elderly (Aytaç 1998, 241-260). In critical economic and social situations other than providing for the elderly, the need to activate a method other than kin could arise. The National Survey of Serbia in 2003 for instance, reveals that the two groups of people Serbian families associated with the best support in everyday problems and reliance on 198 Patriarchy after Patriarchy individual obligations are, on the one hand, closest kin and relatives outside the household, including godparents – which reflects traditional socialization – and, on the other hand, friends, reflecting a kind of transformed modern socialization. Between these two support groups, a kind of functional specialization has been established: when looking for a job, friends come ahead of relatives, but the situation is reversed regarding a family member’s health. Finan- cial borrowings occur in the narrow circle of relations involving exchange among kin, where one’s relatives probably appear as the last resort and are expected to deliver without fail. This means that the family first seeks to resolve the problem of acute shortage of money through all formal channels, and having failed, will turn to relatives who are expected to provide the requested assistance without reservations. Neighbours are the reference group with the highest participation (11.2%) in providing information about housework help of different kind, while their use in all other activities is negligible. The lower the professional, economic, or social position of the household, the smaller the “capitalizing” value of the social network. The higher the status, the more the family will be inclined to turn to friends, godparents, and colleagues. Kinship assistance in these situations shows the “most egalitarian” distribution, indicating that in these relations, traditional obligation of solidarity is maintained (Miliü 2005, 198p.). One may conclude that kinship-friendship and other formal social networks are highly intensive, ramified, and extremely functional in everyday life. On the one hand, under the existing conditions in Serbia, it was almost impossible to imagine the functioning of a family without the support and interventions of their “informal sector”. On the other hand, one should not neglect the possibly strong corrupting effect of these social networks in a situation of social anomy and crisis that for one and a half decades have marked the social situation in Serbia (Ibid. 199). The personalized social relations of Eurasia Minor’s semi-tributary states produce intergenerational links based on a strong moral obligation of the parents to support their children throughout their life. This includes financial aid in education, provision of housing space, setting up a household, childcare and nursing. Thus, interfamily ties remain strong throughout the life of an individual (To- manoviü 2005, 211). Supportive grandparents may become particularly important for the functioning and the well-being of adolescents. This is supported by a survey among 62 extended families in Bulgaria in 1996. Grandparents are likely to influence their grandchildren in a number of different ways: direct influence on face-to-face interactions such as advice-giving and tutelage, maintenance of good emotional relationships and support, as well as their ability to provide a sense of history and continuity – an important aspect of identity formation. The influence of grandparents extends to diverse aspects of family functioning and marital relations and parent-child relations. They often play a uniquely supportive role for the whole family. For example, grandparents mediate conflict in the family, including marital discord between parents. They The Continuity of Patriarchy 199 can also influence their grandchildren’s development and adjustment in an indirect manner via their effect on their adult child’s parenting practises. That is, in times of major stress, supportive grandparents bolster the parenting of their grown children and this in turn affects grandchildren in protective and positive ways. The effect of grandparents’ support in decreasing the negative effect of economic pressure in extended families is less harsh parenting despite economic stresses and less depressions. This affects primarily mothers because they are more likely than fathers to have close relations with grandparents. As a result, mothers are more likely to be affected by grandparent’s support (Bot- cheva & Feldman 2004, 157-165). Eurasia Minor is characterized by weak states and weak state-citizen- relationships, and therefore by a high degree of personalized social relationships. This is not new to Turkish and Greek societies, but relatively new to a generation grown up under the relatively secure framework of a strong socialist state. The endless support of children by parents and grandparents had become a dominating pattern already in socialist times and becomes even more pronounced in the transition period. The self-denying support of children by their parents is an obvious result of decline of patriarchy. Taking care of the elderly personally is also considered a family matter; this is rooted in pre-industrial society. Living under precarious conditions is not a completely new experience for many citizens of the post-socialist states, since especially women’s lives have always consisted of improvising, especially in the last phase of socialism. Women’s improvising is one thing, but operating successfully in the social field of informality is another. This is predominately limited to men, because to be able to enter this area, one needs capital – capital in the narrower economic sense, and/or social and cultural capital. In male-dominated societies, these sorts of capital are usually allocated to men. Whereas in the pre-industrial period, the classic bound of informality was based on blood and spiritual kinship, nowadays the networks of informality are becoming more diffuse. Kinship, friendship, symmetrical and asymmetrical relations are strongly interwoven and intransparent to the outsider.

Kin, Patron, Client

“It puzzled me that the vegetable shop owner I usually patronised in my neighbourhood insisted that I pay for my purchases at a later time. At first I refused and pressed him to take over the money, because I was afraid that I might forget the amount of money I owed him. It took a while to overcome my anxiety over what I perceived from my own perspective to be an intrusion of the personal side of our relationship into the business side, thereby endangering the latter. By putting off payment, the open-ended (reciprocal and therefore personal) nature of the relationship was highlighted.” (With 2000, 132) 200 Patriarchy after Patriarchy

With, socialized in an institutionalized society, where orderly payment concludes a shopping act, was puzzled by the behaviour of the vegetable shop owner, who did not want to be paid immediately. He, thus, created a situation that was hard to comprehend for the western woman. He did her a favour – as he has been doing permanently for the neighbourhood in his position as the owner of a vegetable shop. In doing so, he opened the potential for the demand of reciprocity. He might have come back to the moral claim of reciprocity – or even not; he just opened potentiality. We may call this “general reciprocity” vis-à-vis a non-related but already well-known person, who is quasi-kin. Kin- ship relations are very often characterized by asymmetric and emotional reciprocity, where an act of grandiosity would create honour. Honour cannot be bought in the supermarket; it has to be earned in more complex ways such as grandiosity. Kinship and the group membership it confers are also metaphors that can be extended to non-relatives who do what kin do. In Turkey, kin (akraba) are at one level related by blood. These relations are obvious at social functions and people interact with one another largely based on their biogenetic and agnatic relationships. However, a simultaneous pattern of kinship (akrabalık) which functions like fictive kinship, draws on the term’s Arabic root meaning of “close”, and extends kinship beyond the domain of socially formalised relations. Both real and fictive kinship, expressed as generalised reciprocity, act as positive forces for economic survival, as metaphoric kinship ties activate resources from unrelated others. People participate in a web of mutual open-ended support that expresses and maintains their membership in family and community. They are constantly doing things for and giving things to others in their family and community without expectation of return from any particular individual. When they need something, someone in the group is expected to provide it. Mutual indebtedness means social relations are kept open-ended, that is, without expectation of closure by a counter-gift. This lack of specificity allows reciprocity to be constructed as a relationship between the individual and the aggregate social group, rather than just between individual givers and receivers. What emerges is a wide web of relations, based on obligation and generalised reciprocity. Participation in such a web of reciprocal obligation creates long- term flexible networks of support and security that can be relied on over the long term, regardless of the vicissitudes of the economy. In “personal” business relations, the emergence of money and profit too close to the surface of the transaction or relation causes anxiety. The introduction (or recognition) of a naked profit motive may endanger or even end the relationship. If it is necessary for money to change hands between friends or relatives, it must be done accurately and personally, with no apparent profit on either side by giving too much or too little. Talking about or disputing money openly implies that the relationship has closure and is therefore business only, as between strangers. Time is a crucial element; if payment is immediate, the transaction loses any The Continuity of Patriarchy 201 social value since the reciprocity on which social relation rest can neither created nor maintained (With 2000, 125-133). In Eurasia Minor, networks of informality are endowed with kinship meaning. They may have in common the Turkish term bacanak: this is the husband of the sister of ego’s wife. This term is used in Iran, through Turkey, to the Bal- kans. In addition, the notion can have larger uses, however, as can be seen in Bulgaria, where it also indicates two men who have slept with the same woman. Sometimes presented as “more than brothers” and overshadowed by the conflicts that often break out between brothers, the bacanak is often a preferen- tial shareholder in business. Familial reality can so become an economic reality. The presence of the family, though more discrete, appears to be all- determining as concerns the structure of capital in each business. In the end, familial realities hang in an important and determining manner over the daily functioning and/or the development of the firm (Fliche 2005, § 46, 55), on the one hand. On the other hand, for instance, Bulgarian citizens preferred not to make use of their relations on the other side of the Turkish-Bulgarian or Ser- bian-Bulgarian borders in order to trade in the second half of the 1990s. This refusal can be explained by a moralisation of kinship by the state, which saw such collusion as a brake on the move towards democracy. To use one’s relatives to traffic contraband would be seen badly. Hence, people would dispense with kinship and use weaker, less constraining kinds of links, with which it was possible to bargain without scruples. Using kinship can become negatively stigmatised as nepotism (Ibid. § 56p; Valtchinova 2006, 26). Kinship links can be constructed, converted, and manipulated. Methods of strengthening kinship links are matrimonial unions, constantly maintaining links with visits, exchange of goods and services, spiritual kinship, and patronage. Kinship also serves the purpose of reinforcing links that did not necessarily exist before. Ancestries are social constructions having a practical significance, even if they are, from a historical point of view, constructed. These ancestries are used and give rise to effective and fundamental relations, for instance in the migratory experience. For certain actions, it is better to form an alliance with a distant cousin, with whom one maintains a good relationship, than with an uncle who looks down on you as unequal, notably if there is a symbolic debt involved. It is sometimes easier to clear a symbolic debt owed to an equal than to someone of a higher standing with whom one forever stays indebted. The whole set of opportunities that the familial network offers, also determinates the modes of actions. Not everybody has a maternal uncle, and even if someone does, he is not always “useful”. A maternal uncle from the village is of little help to one who wants to migrate to Europe (Fliche 2005, § 62-70). We have to differentiate two modes of activating networks. The first one is the kinship or quasi-kinship-network, described above, which keeps one on the safe side because of its character of never ending general reciprocity. The sec- 202 Patriarchy after Patriarchy ond type of networks is patron-client relationships based on calculative or speculative relations. Such asymmetric patron-client relationships in the region are also the result of a weak state. People in different parts of the world react differently in such settings; they usually go on from traditional patterns of solidarity and extend them in creative ways. Given a weak infrastructure, the state may integrate patron-client relationships into the political system in order to keep it functioning. Early republican politics in Turkey can be summarized as the integration of wider sections of society into the political system. The dependency of the periphery on the centre has always been significant; in many cases, it has led to the endurance and proliferation of personal dependences in the form of patron-client relationships. When the Turkish Republic was established, villagers accounted for the overwhelming majority of the population (about 80%); they lived quite cut off from the centre of a huge country. Rela- tions with the state were limited to performing military service and paying taxes. Because of the lack of all-season roads, villagers rarely visited the district centre, and the flow of information was very limited. Their loyalties were to their lineages, kin groups, extended families, and religious communities. The only way to integrate the periphery with the centre was to use the existing local and regional notables, to co-opt them into the political system and the governing Republican People’s Party. These notables became both representatives of the Party and agents of the state in the periphery. Party notables in town picked out agents in the villages to represent their own personal interests and those of the Party. In Eastern Anatolia, where the Kurdish population is predominant, it would be a Kurdish tribal leader; in another part of the country, it might have been a religious sheikh, who claimed to have religious authority and spiritual followers. More often, these notables were local property owners owning varying amounts of land and having sharecropping arrangements with the peasants. Such people would have been known for decades as notables in the area; they sometimes inherited a semi-aristocratic reputation through their families. State and politics remained peripheral to the daily life of the village community; the main external links of the peasant would be with local notables, to whom they owed loyalty and respect. The notables not only protected them against disas- ters but also acted as a shield against the “alien” state. The notable was part of “private” life as opposed to the cold and distant “public” face of state bureaucracy. In turn, the centre recognized him as agent of the state and provided him with almost exclusive access to central power. Notables were the members of parliament of the single-party regime, they were the local party leaders, and they were the reliable friends of the local bureaucracy (Güneú-Ayata 1994 49pp.). In 1946, a competitive party system was established. In the village, the political parties placed primary group affiliations into the new context; old rifts between rival families assumed a political character, and individual loyalties were transferred from extended families to larger configurations. The practise of render- ing services in return for votes had two consequences in terms of patron-client The Continuity of Patriarchy 203 relations. The elected representatives were seen as direct personal representatives of the voters, and direct bargaining with the candidates and parties about the services to be exchanged for votes became normality. This pattern brought a new legitimating process to the patron-client relationship. Patronage, in the form of roads, water, electricity, schools, mosques, etc. was channelled through the party and was the common instrument of voter mobilization (Ibid. 53p.). However, in the late 1980s/early 1990s, continuing integration with the market and state began to shift the power structure in villages. Knowledge about the wider frameworks of society became more important than landownership or religious piety. Masses of population had migrated to the city and traditional clientelism became fragile. This process involved the empowering of clients and the disempowering of brokers, with both sides remaining highly dependent on each other. Carrying out personal favours for the constituents, therefore, even more became the primary job of elected officials, whether local or central, so that a new extension has been added to the legislature where each Member of Parliament has an office and a secretariat to deal with clientelistic networks. Clientelism has not only expanded but has even been systematized. Members of Parliament routinely spend every morning responding to demands from “voters”. Most of them keep files for each client, registering all favours rendered so they can claim favours in return (Ibid. 56pp.). These patron-clientele networks reflect the character of the states as male democracy. Clients as well as patrons (96% of Members of Parliament are men) are male. The patriarchal family-axis (brother-brother, father-son) has been successfully extended nation-wide. In Greece, patron-clientele networks have developed similarly (see Mouzelis 1986). The situation in the post-socialist countries of Eurasia Minor is not strictly different, but the sharp political rup- tions have caused interruptions of the network consistencies. The new political situation after 1989 made adaptations necessary since new ones substituted traditional local regional elites, at least partially. This reveals for instance, a case study on the functioning of kinship mobilization in the region of Silistra, North-eastern Bulgaria. The meaning of traditional kinship networks has undergone significant changes. Family and kinship relations are not valued any longer a priori; specific stimuli are needed for the activation of a kinship network. The importance of a kinship network increases in cases of access to power positions and economic resources. One does not have relatives as such but close relationships to people in power. Kinship networks have the potential to gain new dimensions because they enable access to and exertion of power. The efforts to become related to a prestigious family are positively connotated. The process of de-collectivization and privatisation has provided new opportunities for the formation of marriage alliances. The integration of non-kin into a network of power is acknowledged with reservation. In case the interests of the power-network of kin are in danger, the non-kin are the first who are excluded from the network. Networks of power are becoming territorialized. As soon as the network gets into power, it will find sufficient methods to exclude others 204 Patriarchy after Patriarchy from the territory of influence – especially at the periphery (Gălăbov 2001, 85pp.). The modern state in the region is characterized by its desire to be accepted by its citizens and to establish functioning institutions despite the tendency of the citizens to ignore or bypass it. However, still, the state has little to offer in return for acceptance. Pensions are low, social security is low, and receiving rapid service is all too often linked to bakshish or to the offer of a favour in return for a favour. What in pre-modern times was in the hands of patriarchal power, in a face-to-face society has become uncontrollable and fragile. In an urbanized society, the face-to-face aspect lost efficiency, and anonymity won ground. Invisible informal networks that work contrary to the establishment and the functioning of a civil society interweave modern society. The contradictory character of clientelism and patronage is highlighted by research on their fragility, volatility, and continuity or demise in contemporary societies. The contradictions and instability inherent in clientelistic relations are symptomatic of the macro-social context in which they arise. Though its role is limited in societies in which a hereditary inscriptive model of social exchange is predominant, clientelism flourishes where markets are no longer controlled through directives, where social interaction is based on non-inscriptive criteria, and where emphasis is placed on the open flow of resources and opportunities for mobility. This trend, however, goes hand in hand with a strong tendency toward unequal access to markets and socio-political spheres. The status of the social actors within the systems of class and ethnic stratification, for example, tends to match their different ability to control such access. They form patron- client relationships in order to improve their positions. However, these relationships are not fully legitimized and remain vulnerable to the challenge of coun- tervailing social forces. As a mode of structuring social exchange that affects distribution and redistribution, clientelism remains subject to the dynamics of political economy. Accordingly, a decrease in clients’ vulnerability, the patrons’ loss of control, a decline in the supply of resources – or changes in the opposite direction – all these conditions may in the short term contribute to the fragility of clientelistic commitments and over the long term may shatter the salience of clientelism and patronage (Roniger 1994, 11). Clientelistic relations become transformed with the marketization of economies. As the conditions affecting patron-client relations have changed, monopolistic power domains have weakened, alternative clientelistic avenues have developed, and new sources of bargaining for clients have gained importance. New patrons of various sorts emerged such as politicians and administrators (political parties, trade unions, or commercial lobbies). The structure of such networks differs greatly from those in traditional settings: patrons try to build their domains locally and are interested in keeping governmental agencies a- way, so that the resultant networks are of a dispersed kind. However, as patrons and brokers became interested in gaining access to political and material re- The Continuity of Patriarchy 205 sources controlled by the state or channelled through its agencies, this strategy became more supralocal. Complicated networks of patrons, brokers, and clients permeated administrative and political organizations, with such networks linked to the centres of power (Ibid. 11p.). The more the patriarchal power decreases, the more urbanization produced such fragile and hardly controllable supralocal networks, the higher the risks for a functioning civil society. It is no longer patriarchal structures that are the biggest enemy of civil society but their modernized version: people of political and economic influence. A functioning civil society is the basis for striking against male-dominated structures such as the male democracies in the region. Only a functioning civil society will transfer a legal system from theory into practised rights. Civil society in the region has only weak tradition, because states have been incorporat- ing and absorbing the patron-client structure, which is, per se, male-biased (Kaser 2005a). How, for instance, is it possible that in Turkey at the end of the year 2006, a villager of the province of Muú was portrayed on the front pages of Turkish newspapers as having contracted marriages to four women at the same time (to one wife officially, to three religiously) and nothing was done in order to prevent him? He had at that moment 42 children; his second wife at that moment was pregnant with her 15th child. He was then 60 years old and expressed his desire to have a fifth wife, if he could support her financially. He was married to his first wife when he was 12 years of age (Turkish Daily News, Dec. 19, 2006, 1p.). To get married at that age was prohibited in Turkey 48 years ago; nevertheless, it happened. However, how was it possible, in full view of the village community and in front of the village and province authorities, to take home three more wives? The question here is not to have this man “sentenced” by an Austrian historian sitting at a laptop in a comfortable Istan- bul apartment, the problem is a non-existent civil society that makes cases like this one (and many more) possible.

The Old Problem: Lacking Integration of the Periphery

One of the permanent problems since Ottoman times has been the political, social, and economic integration of peripheries into statehood. Periphery here means closed areas well-situated within the borders of a state as well as closed areas on its fringes. The latter have proved the most resistant to integration. Peripherization within Eurasia Minor’s framework basically was caused by two factors: geographical and/or ethnical. As mentioned in Chapter 1, the Ottoman Empire had considerable problems with the integration of the mountainous border zones of the Dinaric mountain-chain in the west, the Caucasian mountains in the northeast, and the high mountain region in the southeast. The Em- pire had provided these regions with different forms of self-government and of statuses on the basis of traditional regulations. When the Empire in the second 206 Patriarchy after Patriarchy half of the 19th century was eager to impose its laws also on its peripheries, it caused considerable military resistance. The successor states of the Empire inherited the problem of not being able to integrate its remote peripheries. Most remarkable are the regions of Northern Albania, of Kosovo/Kosova, of Western Macedonia, and South-eastern Turkey with its predominant Kurdish population. In the three latter cases, various reasons have been intersecting in order to resist full integration into the Turkish and the Yugoslav state, among them ethnic and religious differences vis-à-vis the state forming nations. In Northern Albania, the situation was somewhat different, but the results were similar. The lack of integration has been ending up in the practise of regional customary laws, which are not in accordance with modern constitutional laws, civil and criminal codes. This goes hand in hand with a weak presence of state institutions in these regions. The intersection of weak public-institutional presence and the practise of customary laws sometimes lead to unpredictable situations. A good example is the case Haradinaj contra Musaj, two Kosovo-Albanian family clans. Ramiz Muriqi lives in Pejë/Peü, a city in Western Kos- ovo/Kosova. He attended on February 2, 2005, the funeral of his friend Sadik Musaj, who had been shot in the city centre. Musaj was a witness at an international tribunal, which accused the so-called “Dukagjini-group” of war crimes in June 1999 when Albanian liberation forces fought against the presence of Ser- bian military in the region; among them Daut Haradinaj. After that killing, Ramiz Muriqi remained the only witness of the alleged war crimes, which a- roused a few feelings other than pleasure. He was convinced that the murderer of his friend was one of the Haradinajs because since June 1999, the two families had conducted a blood feud. It originated in rivalry among Albanian forces fighting Serbian oppression. Daut Haradinaj had participated in the torture and killing of Sinan Musaj, brother of Sadik. The statement of the Haradinaj-clan, responding to the accusations of Sadik Musaj before the tribunal, was that they appeared in July 2000 one early morning in front of the Musaj housing complex announcing they were running into problems. The Musaj-clan responded with gunfire, and Daut and his brother Ramush Haradinaj were wounded. The Haradinajs reacted with the killing of one of the Musajs two months later. Such blood feuds are not unusual in Kosovo/Kosova but this case became complicated as Ramush Haradinaj, several months after the killing of Sadik Musaj, became Prime Minister of the province, but was accused by the The Hague War Tribunal and had to step down. Several months later, one of Ramush Ha- radinaj’s brothers, Enver, was killed. According to reports, about 80,000 people attended his funeral. Until 2005, the blood feud caused four deaths (Kaser 2007). Haradinaj contra Musaj is not a unique case in the region. In the year 1989, an estimated 100 blood feud killings occurred, in 2003 about 40. In the north Al- banian city of Shkodra with its 170,000 inhabitants, allegedly about 500 families with about 2,000 family members were participating in cases of blood feuds in the year 2002. In 2001, 73% of all violent crimes in Albania were The Continuity of Patriarchy 207 caused by blood feuds (Ibid.). There are also some small pockets in the east and southeast of Turkey where blood feud is one of the means to resolve conflicts. There are serious ongoing efforts to wipe out this form of crime. For instance, a Blood Feud Peace Committee has been formed in Diyarbakır’s Bismil region in Southeast Turkey in 2006, and this committee has succeeded in ending five such cases. The committee includes a mufti, a doctor, the local police chief, the local gendarmerie commander, and regional leaders. In the report by a parliamentary commission, such peace committees were noted as an option that should be taken seriously in the resolution of local tensions (Turkish Daily News, Oct. 29, 2006, 4). Similar activities are reported from Kosovo/Kosova, Northern Albania, and the Caucasus (Boehm 1984; Fischer 1999, 297; Kaser 1992, 275-279; Kaser 1995, 226-233; Lutzbetak 1951, 192pp.). Another practise is related to so-called honour killing. In October of 2006, Nai- le Erdaú, 15, who became pregnant after being raped by her neighbour, was returned back home after delivery and was killed by a family member. This happened in a town of the Van-district, Eastern Anatolia, in the open street. The killer was her brother who had urged her to accompany him for a walk. The official investigators assume that the blood deed was conducted as consequence of a decision of the family council. The young woman had successfully hidden her pregnancy. She had begged doctors at a state hospital, where she gave birth, not to return her to her family, fearing that she would be killed in accordance with the local tradition demanding that her family’s honour be cleansed. Doctors had informed the state authorities, which nevertheless han- ded the young woman over to her family. Naile’s father had promised that nothing would happen to his daughter. Nobody would touch her. When the family elders got together, his brother and uncle insisted that she be killed. The discord led to family members stoning the Erdaú family home, breaking all the windows. At the end, the father was helpless in the face of “tradition” and Nai- le’s brother Bahri shot the young girl (Turkish Daily News, Oct. 27, 2006, 9; Turkish Daily News, Oct. 28, 2006, 9; Kleine Zeitung, Oct. 24, 2006, 10). Si- milar motives were at work, when on July 3, 2003, in Albania’s capital Tirana a father shot his 16-year-old daughter to death in order to save the family honour. She had been promised to an Albanian, who lived in London, and allegedly was observed in company with another man. The father was sentenced to only nine months of prison based on homicide (Binaj 2006, 74). An honour crime is commonly defined as the murder of a woman by a member of her family who do not approve of her sexual behaviour. According to a UN report in 2000, 5,000 women are killed annually in the name of honour worldwide in 14 states. The estimated number of unknown cases is supposedly much higher. They are killed by male family members because they supposedly have hurt family honour (Böhmecke 2004, 10). In the three years between 1994 and 1996, a total of 53 women fell victim to honour killings in Turkey (Kogacioglu 2004, 118). According to official data, in the five years from 2001 to 2006, 1,806 women were killed in the name of honour; on the average about one 208 Patriarchy after Patriarchy woman dies in an honour killing each day (Turkish Daily News, Jan. 29, 2007, 4). The most frequent reasons are involvement of a girl in an affair with a man despite parental disapproval, bearing an illegitimate child, leaving her husband and escaping with another man, becoming pregnant outside marriage, or being a prostitute. The selected killer is in many cases under 18 years old (in order to receive a lesser sentence). The killing of an illegitimate infant by the mother or other relatives represents another aspect of honour killing. According to the Criminal Code, for such killings in the sake of honour a mother was sentenced to between four and eight years, a male relative between five and ten years. The normal sentence for murder is 25-30 years or even life imprisonment (Interna- tional Helsinki Federation for Human Rights 2000, 449). Meanwhile, killing in the name of honour is considered an ordinary crime by Turkish courts. It has to be underlined that these examples constitute exceptions and are related to an only loose integration of peripheral regions into state structures. The above- mentioned practises seem to resemble a remote patriarchal world; the western world, and not only feminists, comments sharply upon it. In conclusion, one of the argumentative lines through this book is that the gender relations were and largely are dependent on the character of the state. Whereas gender relations in the pre-industrial era, when the state was tributary in its character, were mostly private or to a very limited degree public, in the second half of the 20th century, gender relations became more balanced, mainly caused by the intervention of the socialist state. A half-hearted gender policy was passed over to a post-socialist state; let us call its character semi-tributary. This holds true also for Turkey and Greece. A hypothesis that automatically comes to mind is that this semi-tributary state, on the one hand, continues with the process of annulment of gender-biased regulations and laws (because EU aspirations suggest a strategy of that sort), but the underlying social forces – strengthened Islamic religious values, wars, and the desire for non-socialist values, for instance – still tend into the opposite direction, to a patriarchal backlash of Eurasia Minor’s societies. This hypothesis receives support from those who describe the character of the region as “male democracies” – an argument that has to be scrutinized in detail. The argument of “multiple transitions” has to be kept in mind.

2. Male Democracies

“God made men to make love in a natural way.” (Romanian Man) (Băban 2000, 237)

One of the most striking differences between Turkey and the rest of Eurasia Minor’s societies consists of the massive continuation of traditional patriarchy The Continuity of Patriarchy 209 in the former and the transformation of traditional patriarchy into new forms of male dominance in the latter. The most obvious similarity of these countries is that they all constitute male democracies. Politics and the public sphere is the unquestioned realm of men; this includes political parties and the representation of men and women in administrative bodies on the national and local levels. Men make politics for men and sometimes they give their voice to women’s needs – as long as they do not harm the homogeneity of the “nation”, meaning men’s interests. One does not need to be a political scientist to realize that something is going wrong. Representative democracy almost without representatives from half of the population – this comes close to authoritative rule. The problem of male democracy cannot be analyzed isolated from the rest of societal developments. Male democracy rests on a broad self-understanding of sex segregation having its roots in traditional patriarchy. The attachment of women to the private and of men to the public sphere belongs to the classic strategies of traditional patriarchy. What was practised in pre-industrial society in a context of face-to-face is nowadays performed on local contexts as well as on the nation-wide level, accompanied by women’s discrimination in the labour market. Male democracy as a form of public patriarchy has been a constant factor in the post-socialist world since 1989, in Greece and Turkey since the introduction of formal democracy. In this sub-chapter, four facets of the topic will be investigated: in the first, the general patriarchal backlash in post- socialist societies has to be scrutinized; in the second, women’s meagre role in the public sphere will be pointed at; in the third, man and his relations to the other sexes will be tackled; and in the fourth attention will be paid to the recov- ering women’s movements.

Patriarchal Backlash

One of the most powerful expressions of patriarchy is still the paternal and/or parental power over children’s marriage. A marriage is one of life’s most important decisions, and therefore one where autonomy weighs most heavily. All available evidence indicates that the autonomy of marriage has increased during the 20th century. The principle of male headship has been widely challenged. But male oppression has not disappeared everywhere, and in many parts of the world, husbands still control not only all major family decisions but also whether the wife may leave the house or not. Nor has violence against girls and women disappeared. Sexual double standards are still in force. On the threshold of the twenty-first century, there are three large areas of the world were patriarchy is well entrenched: South Asia (the Muslim and Hindu areas especially); North Africa, and West/Central Asia (with Turkey as a significant but far from complete exception), with partial exceptions on the west coast and in the south (Therborn 2006, 107). If we take the Gender-related Development Index issued in 2006 – it rates the extent of inequalities between men and 210 Patriarchy after Patriarchy women of 136 countries world-wide for the year 2004 – the region is located in the middle field, which is not exactly an honour. Countries such as Bosnia- Herzegovina and Serbia-Montenegro are not even ranked, obviously not able to deliver appropriate data – which leaves space for some speculations. The “Ma- cho”-region of the Mediterranean is by far better ranked. The Gender-related Development Index regards factors such as life expectancy at birth (men and women), adult literacy rates (men and women), gross training enrolment rates (men and women), as well as GDP per inhabitant and US$ at purchase power parity (men and women). Such an index cannot explain everything, but it focuses on indicators that cannot be simply ignored. The Balkan countries belong to the less developed countries in Europe, and Turkey is by far not the most advanced of the Asian countries (Table 38).

Table 38: Gender-related Development Index 2004 and 2003, Regions and Countries Compared

Region Country Rank 2004 Rank 2003 Central-East Europe Austria 17 18 Slovenia 24 25 Hungary 30 31 Slovakia 36 37 Croatia 40 40 Mediterranean Italy 18 18 Spain 19 21 Greece 23 24 Portugal 26 27 Eurasia Minor Bulgaria 44 45 Romania 49 51 Macedonia 54 49 Albania 59 56 Turkey 71 70 Moldova 85 91 Caucasus Armenia 65 62 Azerbaijan 75 77 Source: http://hdr.undp.org/hdr2006/statistics/indicators/218.html

In the year 2004, countries of Central-Eastern Europe are ranked 17th to 40th, Mediterranean countries 18th to 26th, whereas the countries of Eurasia Minor are ranked 44th to 85th. They are amidst the bulk of countries that are in no de- The Continuity of Patriarchy 211 gree famous for policies of gender equality – e.g. Malaysia (51), Oman (57), Jordan (69), Dominican Republic (70), Saudi Arabia (72), or Uzbekistan (84). In 2003-04, Moldova improved from rank 91 to 85, Romania from rank 51 to 49, Bulgaria from 45 to 44, Albania worsened from rank 56 to 59, Turkey from 70 to 71. We should not forget that countries such as Romania and Bulgaria as then-future EU member-countries have been the target of numerous EU initiatives aiming at the legal and economic improvement of the relations between men and women. It seems as if patriarchal backlash is at work. We are able to identify a series of factors that contribute to it. Analysts are not speaking with one voice when it comes to the question whether post-socialist neo-liberal structures led to a backlash in gender relations. One group writes against the backlash paradigm because the “backlash” effect would be often analysed with reference to women-biased gender ideolo- gies (Ådnanes 2000, 25-28.). Others turn more radically against this term based on a contrary argumentation: it would be wrong to speak about backlash since socialist modernity only scratched the surface of gender relations, especially with regard to family relations. The post-WWII influx of female labour force did not seriously question the power asymmetry and division of labour within the family. The women’s burden of paid work was simply added to the burden of domestic work, while earlier behavioural and normative stereotypes per- sisted (Daskalova 2000, 343). Voices from Serbia, however, are clear about applying the backlash paradigm: by the end of the 1980s, they argue, it seemed that the Serbian family definitively crossed the threshold of traditionalism and patriarchalism. However, this hope was destroyed by the wars that took place in Serbia and the former Yugo- slavia after 1991. Exposed to impoverishment, reproduction losses, and exis- tential danger, most families reverted to some traditional forms of ways of family life (Miliü 2005a, 190p; Tomanoviü 2005, 211). The proportion of Serbian married men was significantly higher among war volunteers than that of the unmarried. Many of those men who joined the war enacted a patriarchally shaped normative model of gender relations and expected other members of their families to do the same. The war-produced process of ethnicization of the public sphere attempted to redefine the gender roles in a manner inspired by the patriarchal, traditional, and pre-socialist past: men as providers and protectors, women as reproducers of the nation (Miliüeviü 2006, 275, 282; Irvine & Lilly 2007, 94-112). The wars, thus, increased the importance of the normative concept of the hegemonic man and the exalted childbearing woman as icons of national survival (Munn 2006, 289). Grandits also observes a re-established gender hierarchy in the war-shaken Bosnian region of Herzegovina as result of nationalistic mobilization and war. His findings, however, do not provide a clear-cut picture. Despite the war in the 1990s, post-socialist society has undergone a significant transition process. This is why, he argues, re-traditionalization as part of nationalistic discourses 212 Patriarchy after Patriarchy and rhetoric has to be compared to a very complex social reality shaped by consumerism, migration, irreversible achievements of the socialist period, and young women who are leaving the countryside in order to escape a still patriarchal world (Grandits 2005). In Romania, transition has fostered a renewed emphasis on traditional values, family life, and religion. A women’s place was said to be in the home, responsible for housework and taking care of the husband and children (Băban 2000, 225-229). Albania, too, was deeply affected by a patriarchal backlash (Binaj, 2006, 74p.). It becomes visible at least at two points. A key aspect of transition from state-controlled to liberal market economy was the re-transfer of state owned immovable property into private hands. A survey found out that the Albanian family has retained many of its patriarchal characteristics in property questions. Data strongly suggest that the family patriarch is still considered an important pillar of Albanian rural family life (Wheeler 1998, 11-26). The collapse of communism seemed to reinforce the patriarchal nature of Albanian society, especially in the isolated north. The region was forced to return to its traditional economy. Since the older lineage leaders were the only ones with a clear notion of the various functions of the system, they attained new prominence. Herds were rebuilt and land was redistributed. For a time, the traditional leaders seem to have enjoyed some success in this social regression. Blood- feud violence reappeared. In 1994, a report suggested that almost 300 people were serving in Albania’s prisons for blood-feud killings. Tribal leaders were also able to ensure that women were returned to their subservient positions. With the economic collapse that accompanied the end of communism, unemployment soared, and women were the first to lose their jobs. They found themselves confined to the house, producing many of the family’s basic needs (Fischer 1999, 296pp.). An important question in this context is the division of labour at home. The developing market economy after 1989 provides a wide scope of opportunities to work in different sectors of the economy: state, privatised, newly founded private, in foreign-owned companies as well as in mixed sectors. They offer varying conditions of work with varying arrangements of working time and place. The wide de-structuring of the former regulators in economy, politics, education, and other social spheres forces individuals and households to invent flexible strategies to adapt to the new situation. Households combine paid and unpaid work both outside and inside the home in their economic efforts. The high integration of home and work places family members in a complex set of relationships strengthening the traditional division of labour between gender and generations. A survey measured a remarkably fixed division of labour within the household instead of a process of negotiating the domestic and employment roles among its members. Women did most of the unpaid work in the home in addition to their formal jobs in the labour market, while men limited themselves to paid work outside the home and tended to engage themselves only in house repairs or do slightly more voluntary work outside the home. The Continuity of Patriarchy 213

Despite this highly unequal division of unpaid work in the home, the patterns of labour arrangements were largely unquestioned (Kovacheva 2002). House- work in Bulgaria, e.g., is, except for a few contra-voices, considered women’s work. A sociological survey in 1999 revealed that the clothes were washed in 93%, the apartment was cleaned in 79%, and cooking was done in 82% of the cases exclusively by women (Popova 2003, 223). Most analyses agree with the notion that a significant backlash in gender relations has been taking place in the course of the 1990s. The only question that remains is whether patriarchal structures were profoundly changed upon in the socialist period or only reformulated and, thus, whether they could easily be reversed into their traditional behavioural patterns. Separate cases are regions such as Kosovo/Kosova or countries such as Turkey, where Islam has been strengthened in the course of the last one or two decades. In Kosovo/Kosova, outside of cities, landed property is practically owned mainly by men, with an estimated 10% or less being owned by women. The one asset that women in Kosovo do own independently is their gold jewellery, which they usually receive from both families at marriage. In principle, women have property rights to all kind of goods but in practise, there are no instruments and mechanisms to implement the laws. Custom and traditional law is applied. In many cases, women hand over their landed inheritance portion to their brothers. Women often say they do not need land because they are living on their husband’s property. Nevertheless, especially in the capital of Prishtina, things are changing. Parents provide their daughters increasingly with property (International Hel- sinki Federation for Human Rights 2000, 512). An increasingly articulate women’s movement as well as laws passed by the government on gender equality in 2002, and anti-discrimination laws, an action plan for gender equality (Luci 2005, 164), and the challenge of traditional gender roles provoked by the ad- mission of women into the Kosovo Police Service (Rosenberger & Mertus 2005) are bright lights in the dark tunnel of patriarchal tradition. An increasing number of Turkey’s population says that Islam plays an important role in their life. Whereas most of them – and most of the political parties – do not question the secularistic character of the state, it seems as if Islam con- verts Kemalism’s relative progress in gender relations into the opposite. Only since 1994, Turkish women have the right to seek a job without their husband’s permission, thank to a judicial decision. In 2001, Turkey removed the legal doctrine of male family headship, against strong resistance from the secular nationalist right and from Islamic conservatives. This did not result in remarkably increasing numbers of female household heads; their percentage increased only from 8.7% in 1990 to 11.3% in 2004 (Turkstat). Patriarchal practise also rules the bulk of the Turkish population, where in 1993, the Demographic and Health Survey found that spouses themselves had arranged only a third of marriages – including abduction. Even in European Diasporas, heavy parental involvement in children’s marriages is the rule (Therborn 2006, 112-115). 214 Patriarchy after Patriarchy

Islam supports the view that women are considered wives and mothers, and gender segregation is customary and sometimes legally required. Islam is neither more nor less patriarchal than other major religions, especially Hinduism and the other two Abrahamic religions, Judaism and Christianity; all of which share the view of women as wife and mother (Moghadam 2003, 4p.). The rapid social change – the impact of industrialization, urbanization, and education on marriage, the family, and gender roles – has caused a conservative backlash in the form of a growing Islamist movement. Islamist movements may appear to be archaic, but in fact, they combine modern and pre-modern discourses, means of communication, and political institutions. They use modern means, including elections and the media, for their purposes. The phenomenon of Islamic revival is thus both proactive and reactive. It is reactive in the sense that it seeks to maintain the authenticity of Islamic institutions and traditions, and rejects what is borrowed and external. It is proactive in the sense that many Islamic reformers seek to be modernists, to borrow from the West selectively, and to enter the advanced technological age with its benefits but with the religion intact (Ibid. 157). A good example of an Islamist movement with a modern approach is that of Turkey since the 1980s. The Turkish Islamist movement represents a response of the marginalized sectors of society to rapid industrial growth and the concomitant structural and cultural transformation. This marginality, in the Turkish context, was both social and economic. High-status groups of the Turkish secularistic society consistently excluded Islamic traditionalists from their ranks. In the 1980s, Islamic traditionalists began to bid for social status, intellectual respectability, and political power. They largely succeeded in entrenching themselves within the state and party bureaucracies, in commercial and industrial firms, and in intellectual circles. In short, they became counter-elite. The women within the ranks of the Islamist movement have been part of the mar- ginals’ larger search for respectability and a redefinition of status. The so- called türban and the long coat are cultural markers and uniforms that serve the same function that blue jeans served in western leftist and countercultural movements. It is therefore not contradictory that the ruling Turkish Islamic Justice and Development Party supports Islamic values, on the one hand, and joins other political parties in promoting human rights and entry into the EU on the other (Ibid. 157p.). Although the Islamist movement defends the conservative view that women’s primary capacities should be as mothers and housewives, it has nevertheless come to accept a more active public role for Muslim women. In the past, Is- lamic groups in Turkey were ambivalent about mobilizing women for their political issues. The neo-Islamic National Salvation Party of the 1970s for example, had a strong youth organization but was hesitant to establish affiliated women’s organizations. Once the Iranian Revolution showed the power that militant Muslim women could yield, Islamic groups in Turkey began to court active participation of women within the movement. The education of Muslim The Continuity of Patriarchy 215 women is a second example of the new understanding concerning women’s role within the movement. The Islamists view the education of women as important, primarily in terms of women’s crucial duty of raising and socializing children; after all, educated women are better equipped to raise healthy children and ensure a good education for them. More important, the Islamist movement came to realize that it needed its own educated women in certain professions, such as gynaecology (Ibid. 180p.). There is little doubt left by critical observers (mostly women) that the region has been experiencing a patriarchal backlash, caused by the economy of transition, wars, and the strengthening of the Islamist movement. Another question is, whether women consider themselves as victims of structural discrimination, or as silent accomplices. Around 2000, in most of the countries the majority of women “agreed” or “strongly agreed” to the idea that being a housewife was fulfilling. The highest agreement was among Turkish women; three out of four agreed with this idea. The strongest rejection came from Greek women (Table 39). In the Turkish population, 72.1% (79.4% of the male, 68.6% of the female) think that the wife must obey her husband (World Values Survey).

Table 39: Being Only a Housewife is fulfilling (per cent of women, around 2000)

Agree strongly Agree Disagree Strongly disagree Slovenia 15.8 33.5 38.4 12.4 Croatia (1999) 17.6 38.5 34.4 9.5 Italy (1999) 12.4 39.0 38.4 10.0 Greece (1999) 9.4 24.1 51.4 15.0 Albania (2002) 12.9 32.5 36.2 18.3 Bosnia (2001) 21.7 46.2 26.9 5.2 Bulgaria (1999) 14.3 32.0 40.6 13.1 Moldova (2002) 16.3 52.8 26.2 4.7 Romania (1999) 13.1 34.9 33.6 18.3 Macedonia (2001) 23.1 28.1 36.1 12.7 Serbia (2001) 19.9 44.2 29.7 6.2 Montenegro (2001) 19.4 40.1 34.4 6.1 Turkey (2001) 29.9 45.3 18.5 6.4 Source: World Values Survey

The Gender-related Development Index indicates the region’s poor performance in gender issues. The hypothesis of an at least partial re-strengthening of patriarchal structures can be highlighted by a partial retreat or ejection of women from the public labour market and practically complete retreat or ejection of women from the political sphere. 216 Patriarchy after Patriarchy

Women in the Public Sphere

The Turkish Statistics Institute provides striking and irritating figures. Turkey is the most industrialized country of the MENA region, but does not have the high levels of female industrial employment that one would expect. Turkish women remain concentrated in agricultural work rather than finding employment in the modern industrial sector. Unwaged family-based production of agricultural goods, carpets, or textiles dominates (Moghadam 2003, 43). Ac- cording to population censuses, there was already a decreasing female percentage in labour force between 1950 and 1975 (Özbay 1982, 135).

Table 40: Labour Force Participation of the Population (ages 15 and higher), Turkey 1950-1975

Year Male Female Total 1950 95.3 81.5 88.4 1955 95.6 72.2 83.9 1960 93.9 65.5 79.8 1965 92.1 56.7 74.5 1970 74.9 45.3 60.1 1975 66.6 37.0 51.8 Source: Özbay 1982, 135

In 1980, 88% of all economically active Turkish women were in agriculture. During the 1990s, this figure declined to 65%, and more women became involved in manufacturing employment (Moghadam 2003, 43p.). In the period between 1995 and 2003, an average of 56% of the female labour force was in agriculture (http://hdr.undp.org/hdr2006/statistics/indicators/248.html) and 15% in industry (http://hdr.undp.org/hdr2006/statistics/indicators/250.html). However, access to the labour market for women decreases: 39.6% of the women aged between 15-24 years who had graduated from high school or university are unemployed. The proportion of women in labour force dropped from 34% in 1990 to 27.9% in 1998 (International Helsinki Federation for Human Rights 2000, 445pp.). Turkey’s women’s participation in workforce is the lowest among the countries of the OECD (Ross-Thomas 2006, 4). The proportion of female participation in workforce is further decreasing; in September 2006, it was only 26.5%. In this month, the male unemployment rate was 10.4%, female 18.4% (Turkish Daily News, Dec. 22, 2006, 7; Turkstat). In the post-socialist states in practical terms, economic rationalisation of social services, in conjunction with unemployment, has the effect of channelling women’s labour into family obligations (Pine & Bridger 1998, 10p.). In Romania, The Continuity of Patriarchy 217 the number of unemployed women doubled from 1992 to 1993. The female unemployment rate (61.9% of the total of employed) was considerably higher than that of men (38.1%). This percentage, however, decreased to 54.0% female unemployment in 1996 (Baban 1999, 216). In Kosovo/Kosova, unemployment has risen to 74.71% since the war of 1999. Thirty-five per cent of the women worked outside the home before the conflict. This rate dropped to 26.7% in 2000. Women are underrepresented in managerial and leadership positions in all sectors (International Helsinki Federation for Human Rights 2000, 510). In Bulgaria, according to the official statistics, unemployment rate was 18.75% in 2000, 54% of whom were women (International Helsinki Fed- eration for Human Rights 2000, 104p.). The percentage of 54.0% of female unemployment (of the total of employed) in Romania and Bulgaria does not speak for an extreme feminization of poverty per se. A much more alarming indicator in this context is the difference of male and female income. Whereas in “average” patriarchal countries such as Greece, Bosnia-Herzegovina, Bulgaria, and Romania, the income difference is approximately between one third and one half, in Turkey it is almost two thirds (see Table 41). This difference is one of the reasons for married women to decide for a housewife’s role.

Table 41: Average Male and Female Income (Purchasing Power Parity, US$), 2004

Country Male Income Female Income Greece 28.837 15.728 Turkey 11.408 4.038 Romania 10.325 6.723 Bulgaria 9.855 6.406 Macedonia 8.943 4.286 Bosnia-Herzegovina 8.582 4.286 Albania 6.492 3.487 Moldova 2.143 1.349 Source: http://hdr.undp.org/hdr2006/statistics/indicators/226.html; http://hdr.undp.org/hdr2006/statistics/indicators/227.html

Turkey’s bad performance in gender-related issues compared to the other Eura- sian countries is also due to relatively poor vocational and general training and education of its women. This is linked to a female literacy rate of 80%, compared to 95% for men. Only 72% of girls enrol in secondary school, compared to 90% of boys, in part because conservative families worry about girls mixing with boys (Ross-Thomas 2006, 4). Female literacy made slow progress in the period between 1927 and 1975. In half of a century, the country achieved only 218 Patriarchy after Patriarchy

50% female literacy, although starting from practically zero. Table 42 understands literacy as the percentage of people ages 15 and older who can, with understanding, both read and write a short, simple statement related to their everyday life.

Table 42: Adult Literacy in Eurasia Minor, Age 15 and Higher (in per cent, 2004)

Country Percentage of Literacy Female Male Turkey 79.6 95.3 Greece 94.2 97.8 Macedonia 94.1 98.2 Bosnia-Herzegovina 94.4 99.0 Romania 96.3 98.4 Bulgaria 97.7 98.7 Moldova 97.7 99.1 Albania 98.3 99.2 Source: http://hdr.undp.org/hdr2006/statistics/indicators/222.html; http://hdr.undp.org/hdr2006/statistics/indicators/223.html

Aside from Turkey, the second half of the 20th century became decades of general education for men as well as women in Eurasia Minor. Data from the years before WWII show clearly that the main loser of the hitherto educational systems had been Muslim women. Except for Turkey, this obvious deficit of former periods has been resolved. In Turkey, female illiteracy is distributed quite unevenly between western and eastern provinces. A study conducted by the Diyarbakır Metropolitan Municipality Centre for Women’s Issues in 2006 makes clear that in the south-eastern province, almost 80% of the women were illiterate; 43% of them gave birth to children when they were between 14 and 18 years at age. Sixty-three per cent of married women did not have social security insurance. Eighteen per cent of the girls were not sent to school. Families were claiming that there was no school, the school was far away, the father did not allow them to study, or the family had financial problems (Turkish Daily News, Dec. 8, 2006, 2, 9). Women almost disappeared from the political scene of post-socialist states; in Greece, but especially in Turkey, they have practically never appeared. In Al- bania, the gap between men and women in political life has grown so wide that one could characterize present-day Albania as a world in which men and women live completely separate lives in terms of public and private areas. With the establishment of the multiparty system, Albania’s women lost their quota of one third of the seats in the National Assembly. Figures of women in high The Continuity of Patriarchy 219 ranking political positions are a questionable proof of sensibility in gender issues. One of the best examples of women politicians without feminist consciousness is the former Turkish Prime Minister Tancu Ciller (1993-1996) of the conservative True Path Party. On the other hand, the under-representation of women in public administration is more than only symbolic. In the elections of 1992, only three of 140 Members of the Albanian Parliament were women; in 1993, six women were elected. After the elections of 1997, seven out of 155 members were women. In the four governments since the March 1991 elections until 1997, not one woman has held a portfolio or any high-ranking position in a governmental body (Tarifa 1998, 281-284; Dymi & Pine 1999, 60). Until the elections of the year 2005, no remarkable improvements are to be registered. In 2005, ten out of 140 female representatives were elected; the then acting Prime Minister Fatos Nano, who is known for being sympathetic towards the women’s question, appointed only two women out of 19 to the ministries in his cabinet (Binaj 2006, 69). In Romania, the first free elections were held in May 1990. Women were elected to only one of 117 senate seats and 13 of 383 places in the Chamber of De- puties. In 1992, there were 16 women deputies and four women senators. In 1998, there were no female ministers in the Romanian government. Less than 5% of parliament members were women (Baban 1999, 216). Also in post- socialist Yugoslavia, women have been disappearing from formal political institutions; the socialist institution of quotas for women has been abandoned. Political actors were permanently ignoring women and their needs because they had to solve major “national problems”. Nationalistic, aggressive performance and the macho stance of the main political actors were not attractive models for women. Pre-election tests for the first democratic election in Serbia in 1990 (elections were held in 1991) revealed that only 13% of women were members of political parties. Seventy per cent stated that they did not want to become members of any party. In the Federal Parliament, there was only one woman (out of 178 representatives), in the Serbian parliament eight out of 250 members in the late 1990s. Most of them belonged to leftist or liberal parties. In Serbia-Montenegro, although the majority of DOS (Democratic Opposition of Serbia) voters in 2000 were young and female, only less than 5% of the active politicians were women in the years to follow. Only eight female candidates became members of the Federal Parliament and twenty-one female candidates became member of the Serbian Parliament. In all political structures, from the local to the federal level, only 6 to 7% of the politicians were women. In the late 1990s, Yugoslavia did not have any female ambassador or consul (Ðuriü- Kuzmanoviü 2005, 41; Andjelkovic 1998, 242-247). In Bulgaria, the main explanation for the phenomenon of women’s exclusion from the political arena is seen in the strong consolidation of the family in the difficult years of social and economic changes, when women had to devote more energy to family affairs than to political problems. Most of the women had no choice but to concentrate on protecting their families from negative 220 Patriarchy after Patriarchy consequences of transition (Kostova 1998, 258p.). In 1990 8.5%, in 1997 11.2%, and in 2000 10.4% of the Members of Parliament were women. In 2000, three of 16 ministers were women (almost 20%) (International Helsinki Federation for Human Rights 2000, 114) – a comparatively high proportion for the region. In the year 2000 in Turkey, only 4.4% of the members of parliament were women (compared to 4.6% in 1935). Only eight women have ever been members of a Government in the period 1935-2000 (International Helsinki Federation for Human Rights 2000, 451). While 36% of the University instructors, 31% of the architects, and more than 50% of dentists are women, they seem to be unable to hold administrative positions in the public sphere (Turkish Daily News, Dec. 6, 2006, 2). If we are comparing women’s representation in higher politics, Tur- key’s standing not even in the MENA region was exceptional in a positive sense in the course of the 1980s and 1990s (see Table 43).

Table 43: Women’s Political Participation, Selected MENA Countries, 1980s/1990s

Percentage Parliamentary Women in Decision-making Positions Seats in Single or Lower-Level Percentage Chamber in Government Occupied by Women Ministerial Level Subministerial Level 1987 1995 1999 1994 1998 1994 1998 Algeria 2 7 3 4 0 8 10 Lebanon 2 2 0 0 0 0 Morocco 0 1 1 0 0 0 8 Syria 9 10 10 7 8 0 0 Jordan 0 1 0 3 2 0 0 Turkey 1 2 4 5 5 0 17 Source: Moghadam 2003, 13

If we take European countries and regions, Eurasia Minor keeps the worst Eu- ropean performance as region and Turkey as country within the region (Table 44). The figures from Bulgaria, Macedonia, and Moldavia, however, are relatively positive. The Continuity of Patriarchy 221

Table 44: Women’s Seats in Parliament, selected European Countries (in per cent, 2003-04)

Region Country 2003 2004 Central-East Europe Austria 32.2 32.2 Slovenia 12.2 10.8 Hungary 9.1 10.4 Slovakia 16.7 16.7 Croatia 21.7 21.7 Mediterranean Italia 10.4 16.1 Greece 14.0 13.0 Portugal 20.0 21.3 Spain 30.5 30.5 Eurasia Minor Bulgaria 26.3 22.1 Macedonia 19.2 19.2 Moldavia 15.8 21.8 Bosnia and Herzegovina 12.3 12.3 Romania 10.9 10.7 Serbia 7.9 Albania 6.4 7.1 Turkey 4.4 4.4 Caucasia Armenia 5.3 5.3 Georgia 9.4 9.4 Azerbaijan 10.5 12.3 Source: http://hdr.undp.org/hdr2006/statistics/indicators/231.html

Table 45: Men Make Better Political Leadership (per cent of women’s agreement)

Strongly Agree Agree Disagree Strongly disagree Albania (2002) 13.8 24.9 40.2 21.1 Bosnia-Herzegovina (2001) 6.0 17.0 52.9 24.1 Moldova (2002) 10.0 40.3 40.6 9.1 Macedonia (2001) 11.3 19.9 36.1 32.6 Serbia (2001) 10.6 26.5 41.6 21.3 Montenegro (2001) 13.7 24.4 41.7 20.2 Turkey (2001) 21.6 36.7 28.6 13.1 Source: World Values Survey 222 Patriarchy after Patriarchy

On the other hand, women – except in Turkey – do not think that men make better political leadership, on the contrary (Table 45). All this data indicates that women’s movement and women’s appearance in the public space is not of great proportions. Another facet of women in the public sphere in the 1990s was ethnic nationalism in wartime as based on a politics of specific gender identity/difference in which women were simultaneously mythologized as the nation’s deepest “essence” and instrumentalized as its producer. Women became doubly subjugated. As insiders, they are colonized and instrumentalized in their “natural” function as “birth machines” (Papiü 1999, 155). In Bosnia, Reis-ul-Ulema Mustafa ûeriü, issued a fetva (religious order) in January 1994, calling on all Muslim women to give birth to five children each and condemn- ing mixed marriages as a betrayal of one’s faith and culture (Kesiü 1999, 201). Public patriarchy expressed by a genderized separation of public and private spheres is not a new experience for Greece and Turkey but rather for the post- socialist societies. Although even under socialism the public was characterized by a male hegemony, the Party took steps to bridge the gender gap in the public sphere (e.g., women’s quota for Members of Parliament). This division of public-private reminds the segregation of the traditional patriarchal order. Its continuity and re-strengthening (Turkey), on the one hand, and re-invention (post- socialist societies), on the other hand, should be noted on the “pros” side, when we are finally going to draw up a balance in the question “Patriarchy after Pa- triarchy?” The survival and re-animation of the public form of patriarchy is obvious. The dimensions of the public sphere in pre-industrial and industrial times are, of course, different. The disappearance of women from the public sphere in pre-industrial times can easily be explained by the ruling patriarchal structures; the contemporary situation is much more complicated. On the one hand, there is no explicit structural (legal) violence at work that prohibits women from entering the public sphere; on the other hand, as soon as the public sphere is occupied by men, it is very hard to remove them, because removal means no longer having access to the (scarce) public resources. At this point one has to be realistic: if we take the resources of the Eurasian states the public is poor; they have resources enough to serve individual interests but not enough for redistribution in the sense of Gemeinwohl (public wealth). I think many women are guided by the idea that they can achieve more where they have direct access and direct decision power: in the family. This is mainly caused by their inferior wages in the official labour market. This fragments women’s movements. Because of the retreat from the public into the private, the view of the generality of one’s specific problem, in other words the political, gets lost. He- re, the advantage of the Islamist women’s movements is obvious. They pro- claim not to be political – and just this is why they are political. They do not question existing gender relations and offer the support of the women’s community to women in need. They have established an intermediary sphere between the private and the public, which offers necessary support and at the same time prevents women from entering the public sphere. The Continuity of Patriarchy 223

Men and the Other Sexes

In strongly patriarchal societies, space is gendered into women’s and men’s places and spaces. In modern societies, both are theoretically accessible by men and women. Accessibility of male and female spaces, however, is actually un- balanced. Whereas access to the public space for women is relatively difficult, as indicated by data on female representation in politics and paid labour, men’s access to private space is hardly limited. Patriarchs prefer a clear-cut world. Husbands and men define access to their and their wife’s private worlds. In modern worlds, where the degree of mobility and flexibility is high, the borderlines of gendered spaces are permanently questioned by other persons and unexpected circumstances. This creates a general repressive framework of domestic violence. The world of patriarchal thinking knows (at least) two borders that are seemingly fixed and not a matter of negotiation: the border between both sexes, which is considered as biologically given, and the border between intact and lost female virginity. This is the setting of genderized borders that unites the three issues that will be touched upon on the following pages: domestic violence caused by spatial border transgression, the transgression of gender borders by gays and lesbians, and the transgression of biological borders represented by a very thin piece of skin, the hymen.

Domestic Violence

Gender troubles, expressed through domestic violence usually exercised by men at the expense of their wives and daughters, are increasing, at least statisti- cally. We do not know exactly whether domestic violence (defined as psychological, physical, and sexual violence against adult women) is actually increasing or whether the statistical awareness of domestic violence has been growing. I think both are the case. Generally, intimate partner violence is more common in patriarchal societies, since it is integrally linked to ideas of male superiority over women (Burazeri, Roshi & Tavanxhi 2006, 233p.). In Albania, “un- healthy” marriages were and still are difficult to dismantle. The only acceptable reasons for divorce are adultery, bribery, or continuous physical abuse. To obtain a divorce for spiritual or sexual dissatisfaction is very rare. Women pro- nouncing their marriage unfulfilling virtually commit social suicide. The concept of marital rape does not exist. Forced sexual relations are often considered by women to be a part of the marriage package. With better education of women, the number of officially acknowledged failed marriages is increasing. In 1960, the divorce rate was 0.5 per 1,000 inhabitants or 2.9 divorces per 1,000 families. By 1990, the divorce rate had risen to 0.8 per 1.000 inhabitants or 6.2 per 1,000 families (2.1 in rural areas) (Dymi & Pine 1999, 59). 224 Patriarchy after Patriarchy

Domestic violence against women has increased in post-socialist Albania. The- re are no reliable official statistics showing the precise trends. The traditional and patriarchal attitude attendant to the customary law, the kanun, supports domestic violence. Violence occurs notwithstanding religion. Women with high education tend to be better empowered and prepared to encourage communication with their spouse, and therefore are less likely to suffer domestic violence. Women who are unemployed and living in rural areas are more likely to be physically abused, as are young women aged between 20-30 years. Alco- holism (80% of the cases), jealousy (76%), unemployment (52%), poverty (50%), and sexual impotence (22%) are among the main causes. The Albanian Civil Code has no provisions to ensure that a person, who is believed to be in danger, has the right to demand a temporary court decision to prevent violence. Only an estimated 5% of cases of domestic violence are brought to court. Chil- dren who are affected by violence become isolated at a very early age and run risk of being further marginalised in society. For many reasons, including lack of trust in the authorities, shame, and fear of retaliation from the abuser, women do not report abuse to the police (Mapping of Existing Information on Domestic Violence in Albania, 2000). In 2003, a representative sample of 1,039 married women aged 25-65 living in Tirana were interviewed. Thirty- seven per cent reported at least one episode of spousal violence in the then past year, 26% three or more episodes, 63% reported none. The prevalence of violence was highest among women aged 25-34 (Burazeri et al. 2005). Domestic violence in the countries of former Yugoslavia had been intensified by the wars in the 1990s. The social context of transition, as well as in the war- affected countries, combined with the strong impact of patriarchy and traditional gender role-socialization based on it, is fertile ground for the occurrence and increase of different forms of violence against women. Surveys conducted in Serbia, Macedonia, and Bosnia-Herzegovina between 1996 and 2002 revealed that in more than 80% of the cases, women were exposed to male violence within the family, and in more than two thirds of the cases, the perpetrator was the husband or partner; thus, wife abuse is the most frequent form of domestic violence. Areas where violence in war has effectively become incorporated into everyday lives reveal a grim picture of the family today. In Serbia, 46.1% of the women interviewed were exposed to psychological domestic violence, one in three has been or still is the victim of physical violence, and one in four is exposed to violent threats. Results suggest that physical violence is more present in the contemporary Serbian family than in Western countries. Physical violence is less widespread in Macedonia (23.9%) than in Serbia (30.6%); however, there are no significant differences in the forms of physical violence. Sometimes the effects and consequences of psychological (emotional) violence can be even worse. In Serbia, 46.1% of women were or still are exposed to psychological violence, in Macedonia this percentage (61.5%) is even higher. The most common form of this type of violence in Macedonia is described as “his decision must be ultimately accepted” (39.4%), the woman’s The Continuity of Patriarchy 225 freedom of movement is controlled on all occasions (where she goes, how long she is out for, what time she returns home (36.2%) and by men’s excessive jealousy and possessiveness). Women are viewed as the property of their mates. In Macedonia, the perpetrator in 51.5% of the cases was under the influence of alcohol, in Serbia in 37.2% of the cases. All forms of violence were more frequent in cases where families lived in very poor or poor housing conditions. The employment status of the man has been identified as one of the main factors leading to new or increasing wife abuse. A man’s lower degree of education or income compared with the wife’s leads to a discrepancy between expectations and reality, resulting in the man’s frustration and shift of aggression due to the impossibility of achieving adequate affirmation through his work. The man’s unemployment and inability to be the main breadwinner, and therefore the head of the family, are seen as an abrupt deterioration of status in gender hierarchy (ûopiü 2004, 47-58). After 1989, domestic violence also increased in Romania and by 1993, 29% of women treated by the Forensic Hospital in Bucharest were victims of domestic violence. Conjugal rape, beating, and incest were widespread. Outside the family, violence against women was mainly manifest in the form of rape. In this case, the burden of proof is a humiliating task for women and the reason why many of them do not report it, especially if they were unmarried, divorced, or if the rapist was a colleague or a friend (Roman 2001, 57p.). In the neighbouring Republic of Moldova, a survey conducted in 2001-02 revealed that the majority of respondents (82%) mentioned the existence of domestic violence against women. The most recognizable types of violence were sexual (96.6%) and physical (87.5%) (Bodrug-Lungu 2004, 179). Also in Bulgaria, domestic violence is not yet considered a violation of human rights as it occurs in the private family sphere. According to data provided by women’s NGOs, it is a widespread phenomenon, although not openly acknowledged, and public awareness about it is low. Family matters in Bulgarian society have always been considered private and kept secret (Chakarova 2003, 73). In Turkey, domestic violence is a virulent problem, too. The direct victims are mainly women, but the impact on children is being increasingly recognized. The violence rate against women is five times higher than against men. Domes- tic violence against pregnant women can end disastrously: it is associated with maternal death, placental abruption, premature rupture of membranes, abortion, foetal death, and preterm death. A pertinent survey was conducted in eastern Turkey in 2002 among 475 married and pregnant women between age 15 and 45. Sixty-four point six per cent of them had experienced some form of psychological or physical violence during their marriage; 33.3% of the women had experienced domestic violence during pregnancy. The true incidence may have been even higher, because the traditional culture of Turkish women does not allow the exposure of family affairs to non-family members (Sahin & Sahin 2003a, 93pp.). 226 Patriarchy after Patriarchy

Generally, physical aggression by husbands against wives is reported by about 20% of Turkish married women. Because of the mentioned cultural reasons, wives may underreport aggressive acts, but the incidence is much higher a- mong divorced women (84%) and among families with juvenile delinquents (35%). Results of an interview study conducted in various districts of Ankara revealed that shouting and verbal aggression were much more common than physical aggression. Justifications are based on cultural values, some of which are associated with gender stereotypes, patriarchal values, and religious pre- scriptions and symbols, which together create a picture of women as passive victims. The value of gender-related honour (chastity, modesty) is another justification of aggression against women. For example, a double standard exists for extramarital involvements in Turkish law. Extramarital sex is punishable by law when practised by wives, but not punishable when practised by men except when it involves cohabitation with another woman. Irresponsibility, aggres- siveness, substance abuse, gambling, and infidelity, all indicators of power use and abuse, were cited more often among definitions of instigation for men than for women and were cited most frequently for husbands. Thus, husbands were required to abide by the role obligations of the benevolent and powerful patriarch and to provide security and protection in exchange for obedience. Female chastity constitutes an important component of family honour according to the patriarchal values dominant in Turkey. The importance of family may also justify aggression as the reason to keep the family together in a culture in which group interests override individual preferences (Hortaçsu, Kalaycio÷lu & Rittersberger-Tiliç 2003, 163-179). In Eastern and South-eastern Turkey, domestic violence occurs more often than in other regions. Half the women in the Eastern Turkish city of Van live with domestic violence, and more than two thirds had no say in who they married – these are the main results of a poll carried out by the Van Women’s Associa- tion among 800 women in the district. In Turkey’s rural, conservative southeast, women are married early to protect their virginity. The forced marriage cycle continues, as women are powerless – socially and economically – to stop their daughters meeting the same fate. A new penal code came into effect in mid-2005, which gave women more rights, but many say implementation is lagging. The new code has scrapped reductions of penalties for rapists if they agree to marry their victims. Nevertheless, some families still force their daughters into such marriages, believing this protects the family’s name and honour. Police often ignore reports of violence against women and regularly do not act when men breach restraining orders. Marriage deals are still struck by which a boy and a girl from one family marry counterparts in another, an exchange (bertel), which avoids dowry costs and protects families’ property. If one marriage fails, the other is also dissolved (Ross-Thomas 2006). In 1998, the Turkish parliament approved a law to protect the family. Any member of a family subject to domestic violence can file a court case. Women, thus, can fight domestic violence legally. However, the law has proven to be The Continuity of Patriarchy 227 inefficient. By the end of 2006, the conservative Turkish government, therefore, saw itself forced to submit a new law that aimed to introduce significant changes to current legislation including compulsory psychological therapy, the protection of divorced spouses, and compensation alimony to spouses subject to violence. Family members other than parents become recognised as potential victims of domestic violence (Turkish Daily News, Dec. 3, 2006, 2). A systematic organization of “women’s houses” or “women’s shelters”, where women can find preliminary protection from domestic violence has not yet been established. The Istanbul Küçükçekmece (little harbour) based women’s shelter has been frequented by 1,400 women in the decade since its foundation in 1996. Two more such institutions exist in Istanbul. This is not much for a city of 15 million or so. Pregnant women exiled by their husbands seek and find juridical advice and material support – not only from Istanbul but also from provinces such as Izmir. The location of the women’s shelters is kept secret, also the kindergartens and schools attended by the children of women in need. Women can stay for one year maximum; after that they have to establish a new life, very frequently anonymously supported by private companies or personalities of public life who understand the situation of women in need (Der Standard, March 18, 2006, B4). Similarly unfavourable is the situation for women in the independence-seeking province of Kosovo/Kosova. Domestic violence here is a big problem, although hardly publicly discussed. The province is dominated by a traditional patriarchal system and it is culturally accepted for husbands to beat their wives, although hidden from the public. For most women marrying into a violent family, leaving violence means leaving family – and this means to have low status in society (International Helsinki Federation for Human Rights 2000, 515p.). We do not know about the actual extent of domestic violence in the region of Eurasia Minor. One can assume that violence against women has increased in post-socialist societies because of the loss of former security. In an attempt to link back to imagined (patriarchal) traditions, male visions are very often and very rapidly confronted with another reality. The problem belongs to the hidden agenda of male democracies. This agenda includes a high portion of women who would not go public accusing their husbands of violence against themselves and/or their children. Meanwhile, legislation in most countries of Eurasia Minor provides the police the right to intervene in cases of domestic violence. The social reality of policemen, however, is that they are convinced of having more important things to do than to protect women against their aggressive husbands (Helms 2006, 349). As mentioned above, the problem behind all this is a gender-spaced society in which borders are set by existing and perpetuated patriarchal structures. A patriarchal society classifies the world in terms of men and women; there is hardly any space left for concepts in between. 228 Patriarchy after Patriarchy

Lesbians and Gays

Manhood in most patriarchal societies is connected with heterosexual men, while homosexuals are not treated as real men, but as anti-men and feminized characters. They do not fit into the traditional stereotyped image of gender roles (Mrzevic 2001, 262). In comparison to the EU countries, the countries of Eurasia Minor score lower on indicators of sexual permissiveness. The majority of respondents in post-socialist countries consider sexual contacts between two consenting adults of the same sex unacceptable. Data from the World Val- ues Survey confirms two distinct patterns: countries such as Slovenia, Croatia, the Baltic, Belorussia, and the Ukraine accepting the idea of unlimited sexual freedom. Countries such as Romania, Bulgaria, Macedonia, Bosnia- Herzegovina, Albania, and Turkey are inclined to social restriction (Štulhofer & Sandfort 2005, 14p.). The early and universal marriage and childbearing behaviour in socialist states reinforced heterosexual conformity. Gay and lesbian relations were often illegal or subject to harassment. Homosexuality was regarded as a deviant illness (Wallace & Kovatcheva 1998, 138). Between 1968 and 1996, the Romanian Penal Code criminalized homosexuality. It could be punished with between one and five years of prison. After public debates and international pressure, the pertinent article was changed in 1996 as part of the new Penal Code. Again, homosexuality was punishable between one and five years of prison. In 2002, a new law eliminated this article from the Romanian Penal Code. Sexual orientation is no longer discriminated against (Nachescu 2005, 61, 74). In Turkey, homosexuality is not illegal since it was already widely accepted during the Ottoman period, but in practise, gays and lesbians are facing many problems by being accused of offending “public morality”. It took more than a decade of struggle with the administration for an informal activist group, Kaos- GL, to be acknowledged as an NGO. However, in September 2006, the association faced closure when the deputy governor of Ankara demanded that a court shut it down, claiming that it violated morality laws. The editor of its journal, the only journal of that kind in Turkey, was tried before an Ankara court, accused of having damaged public morality, in December 2006 (Turkish Daily News, Dec. 27, 2006, 3). In Bulgaria, both the public and the media are tolerant. Homosexual orientation is not considered a public issue. Society accepts it as a private matter. Homosexuality was hidden by the socialist regime. How- ever, so far, lesbian groups have not declared their existence (International Helsinki Federation for Human Rights 2000, 118). Such a declaration, however, may cause problems. In summer of 2001 for instance, NGOs called for a Gay Pride Parade in downtown Belgrade. Hundreds of protesting young men – linked to a right-wing Serbian nationalist and Orthodox youth group as well as nationalist football fan clubs – attended and attacked parade participants. More than a dozen of them were seriously wounded (Greenberg 2006, 323pp.). Ac- The Continuity of Patriarchy 229 cording to a recent survey on homosexuality, emotional violence was experienced by one third and physical violence by one quarter of the interviewed persons (Groves 2006, 38).

Sworn Virgins and Virginity Tests

Another border important in a patriarchal world is between “untouched” and “touched” women. Patriarchy does not accept women having spent a night with another man. Virginity is fundamental in patriarchal thinking. This leaves young women little space of action. But there was and still is space. Virginity has been made fundamental in a patriarchal world; women’s sex has to be under male control. It has become a fetish. Women have to be “pure” until pene- trated by the future child-giver. This is probably one of the reasons for the still existing dichotomy of virginities: the sworn virginity and the virginity test; the former by becoming a man in a cultural sense, which includes, theoretically, virginity for a whole period of life, the latter in a test before marriage. In essence, the traditional practise of sworn virginity consisted of declaring a young girl a boy. In order to avoid crossing of gender- and sexual borders, she promised her community eternal virginity. They were called vergjin (virgin in Albanian) or man-woman. They were not always recognizable; once the decision to take over a man’s role was made, they took on extraordinarily masculine appearances, not only in their manner of dress, but also in their whole body discipline. The traditional primary motivation to become man may have been the need for a male inheritor and household head, where no suitable male successor was otherwise available (Young 2000, 9pp.). Nowadays, there are three categories of “virgins” in existence. Firstly, those whose choice was made in childhood, at or even before birth. This seems to be the most frequent case today. Secondly, choice after puberty. Thirdly, the choice to become a nun (Ibid. 60p.). The British anthropologist Antonia Young made a series of interviews with sworn virgins (ranging in age from 22-85). Each case is entirely different; also the interpretation of why he/she has taken over the role as virgin. In most cases, the motivations do not fit to older ethnographic descriptions. The situation in rural areas fits more closely the traditional role, whereas the virgins in urban space seem to have adapted to more modern mores (Ibid. 69). Young estimates that approximately one hundred “virgins” exist, primarily in Northern Albania. Ascribing the virgins to a “third gender”, calling them trans- sexuals, trans-gendered, or even cross-dressers, is a concept to which many Albanians, not least the virgins themselves, would certainly not subscribe. The traditional role of the virgin will necessarily be forced to adapt to a changing world (Ibid. 123-127). This is not a new pattern, but can be classified a renewed one. 230 Patriarchy after Patriarchy

This phenomenon has to be considered an echo of a relatively widespread pattern in some of the core regions of Balkan patriarchy, Montenegro and North- ern Albania, in pre-industrial times. Ethnographers of the 19th and early 20th centuries describe the existence of sworn virgins in a sensational way for a western readership, speculating on the remnants of an early matriarchy in the region. The phenomenon, however, suggests another interpretation: parents having only girls as successors were unhappy with this situation and proclaimed one of the girls as boy, and gave her a male name, thus appointing her as the male successor of the patriline. She/he took on male clothes, cut her/his hair like a man, behaved like a man and was accepted by the community as a man. Some of them were described as smoking and telling dirty women’s jokes. They took care for their younger sisters and married them out. They carried out male professions and were accepted as legal heirs by the community. Since the sworn virgin could not provide successors in a biological way, she might have adopted, for instance, one of the sister’s sons as her son, and, in this way, would continue the patriline. In our eyes this practise looks strange, but was obviously not for a strongly patriarchal community in former times. It has to be underlined that this phenomenon had nothing to do with transvestites – a frequent phenomenon of Western Europe, but was a logical consequence of patriarchal and patrilineal ideology (Kaser 1994; Šarþeviü 2004). In patriarchal world virginity, thus, could and can have more than one function. Virginity and overtaking a man’s role was and is the one side of the cult of virginity, keeping women’s bodies “pure” until marriage the other side of the same story. The hymen has to be kept intact until the first night with the first husband. The empirical evidence in form of the bloody sheet is as well-known as the methods to let a sheet appear as if it was the result of a ruptured hymen. Virginity tests, despite the lack of pronounced legal basis, were routinely performed upon women suspected of illegal prostitution and/or charged with “im- modest” behaviour, for instance, in Turkish state-run dormitories, orphanages, hospitals, and more sporadically girls in highschools. In a law amendment of 1999, the consent of the woman for the virginity exam is required. The exams are either tolerated, or even championed, for protecting the traditional values of honour, chastity, and virtue. Although they reflect deep-seated values and beliefs towards women and sexuality, an alternative interpretation suggests neither that the exams are the embarrassing remnants of tradition, nor are they simply reactionary attempts at its preservation. Rather, they are emblematic of the incorporation of the preoccupation with women’s modesty, previously enforced primarily through kinship networks, into the mechanisms of surveillance deployed by the modern state. Virginity examinations must be viewed as a particularly modern form of institutionalized violence used to secure the sign of the modern and/but chaste woman, fashioned by the modernization project embarked on by the Turkish nationalist elite under the leadership of Kemal Atatürk. The state punishes in order to protect the family (Parla 2001, 65-69). The Continuity of Patriarchy 231

Women who are discovered on their wedding night not to be a virgin are commonly taken to hospital for examination, and likewise, a suspicious parent may take a daughter for examination. Formally, the physician has to ask the woman for permission, but usually the social pressure is too high for resistance (Inter- national Helsinki Federation for Human Rights 2000, 449). In Turkey in the late 1990s, school authorities sent suspect girls for virginity tests, and if found to be non-virginal, the girls were expelled from school, including young women of the age of student nurses. Only in 2002 did the Turkish Ministry of Education withdraw such expulsion from the educational system (Therborn 2006, 215). The intact hymen of the unmarried woman is material proof of her purity. This social anxiety over a woman’s virginity has been reflected in the taboos and finally in wedding night rituals. Women’s premarital virginity is also considered as owed to the family to protect their honour. Patriarchal control over women’s bodies has been reproduced through honour and shame codes. A man’s honour is related to his power to protect the inviability of what is considered his. Virginity is not only an asset for the individual woman, but for the whole family. Therefore, the family controls women’s bodies. Another side of the multi-faced story of virginity is that through medical operations, it is possible to repair the hymen in cases of premarital sexual relationships. The young lady becomes pure again and her family honour as well as her hymen is re- paired. These operations are not unique to Turkey; they take place in some parts of the non-western world (Cindoglu 1997, 254). In Turkish Civil Law, when there is a legal dispute, such as in the cases of attempted rape or absence of bleeding on the first intercourse with the respective spouse, the Forensic Medicine Department of the Ministry of Health takes up the issue and can pursue virginity tests to examine if the woman has just been deflowered or not. Virginity tests are widely conducted in hospitals and private practises. However, virginity test reports can still only be given legally by the Forensic Medicine Department (Ibid. 255pp.).

Counter Force: Organized Women

As already mentioned, autonomous women’s organizations had a short life in the region. Most of them were formed around 1900 and had a difficult position in their male dominated countries. Their activities were abruptly ended after the introduction of women’s suffrage in Turkey in 1935, and after the establishment of the socialist regimes. In socialist countries, women’s organizations were dependent on the ruling Party and not allowed to achieve an effective profile. In Albania, for instance, the first mass women’s organization, the Anti- fascist Women’s Union, was founded in 1943 as one of the branches of the Communist Party and in 1946 transformed into the Women’s Union of Alba- nia. It was only marginally successful and was dissolved after the introduction 232 Patriarchy after Patriarchy of the multiparty system in 1992 (Dymi & Pine 1999, 60). The Bulgarian Na- tional Women’s Union, founded in 1945, was an auxiliary of the Communist Party. It served primarily to perpetuate official party views. By the late 1970s and early 1980s, its ideology shifted to conservative views, emphasizing women should return to their “authentic nature” by making their households and families a priority (Vassilev 1999, 85). After the breakdown of state socialism and the following turbulent years, it took a while before women were able to focus their divergent approaches on women’s issues. Meanwhile, even in male democracies, the general framework for women’s voices has improved. Launched by the EU, most of the prospective member states as well as Bulgaria and Romania have been committed to processes of gender mainstreaming. In most countries in the region there are ongoing processes of formulating and adopting legal provisions for gender equality and of establishing mechanisms for their implementations. Between the process of providing a formal framework for gender inclusion and the process of accession or approaching the EU constitutions, provisions and other gender-related documents are leading to a well-defined framework for gender mainstreaming. The most important aspect of change is that the critical mass of people involved is growing (Ignjatoviü 2006, 197). This process needs women’s organizations in the regions, which are critically accompanying these processes. They are considered the primary advocates of gender equality and initiators of public debates on gender issues. The field of women’s organization in post-Yugoslav countries consists of several hundreds groups, initiatives, and networks. Their activities range from self- help groups for refugees, displaced women, single mothers and lesbians, to political pressure groups. In Macedonia, most of the women’s organizations are, however, ethnically based. One of the largest among the new, ethnically defined women’s groups is the League of Albanian Women, which claims to represent 10,000 members (Bagic 2001/2002). Before Miloševiü’s downfall in 2000, in Serbia women’s organizations were treated as ideological enemies to state and nation. The new political actors of post-socialist Yugoslavia called for women’s return home to the family. The outcome was disastrous: women became completely marginalized. Most of the feminist groups disappeared in the early 1990s. Since then, the remaining groups have been primarily focusing on women as victims of war crimes and sexual harassment – and in this sense they have become the victims of a male and state-protected nationalist ideology (Andjelkoviü 1998, 238). After 2000, new women’s groups and networks are being formed and their number is fast growing. The crucial task for the future will be the strengthening of this fragile and diffuse network structure (Miliü 2004, 65, 81). The feminist scene is best organized in Belgrade. The Autono- mous Women’s Centre lists 46 member organizations in Serbia proper. Most of the existing NGOs in Bosnia-Herzegovina emerged either during or after the war. Their estimated number ranges from 250 to 500. However, an estimated The Continuity of Patriarchy 233

80 to 90% of them would have never appeared without foreign financial assistance (Bagic 2001/2002; Simmons 2007). This is also the case with the hundreds of NGOs in Albania. In addition, in recent years a number of new women’s organizations have been founded, most of them affiliated to political parties. Having little influence in the rural areas or in the trade unions, they are advocating greater consideration of reproductive rights, family planning, and social welfare issues by the public (Schindler 1995, 305). One of the very positive results of the interplay of foreign donors and internal initiatives was the foundation of the Gender Institute at the University of Tirana in 2001. The institute offers Master programs as well as training se- minars and courses for NGOs and especially for judges, who will be in charge of the execution of a new family law (Calloni 2002). Contemporary women’s movements in Greece are fighting for the realization of equality; they are concerned with issues such as violence, rape, and male control. Their strategy is not to align with political parties; however, their characteristics are that they are elitist, present their issues in an abstract language, and are not linked to the average woman. As a result, their effectiveness is minimal (Papageorgiou-Limberes 2003). In Turkey, Islamic fundamentalism has been successfully organizing itself nationwide since the 1980s. Migrant communities (Sunnis), especially those settled in the gecekondu areas, have been a significant target group for radical Islamists. They provide various social facilities in the neighbourhood, including health services for the economically disadvantaged. The organization of “conversation days” for women, in which the merits of Islamic militancy are reaffirmed, are one of its strategies. The potential outcome of this for migrant women is the tightening of social control over their lives and over the form of public visibility; at the same time it is opening up new routes of participation for women in urban life. Particularly for those young migrant women in conservative families, the only socially acceptable way to participate in public life today is through religious groups and activities. In this way, they both legiti- mize their active involvement as women in the public realm, and they achieve a respectable identity and high esteem in urban centres in the face of their stig- matization as migrants (Erman 2001, 127p.). However, Islam is not homogenous. The Alevi, for instance, differ from the Sunni majority, among other things, because of their liberal attitudes towards women. They have been solid supporters of the secular Turkish Republic, acting as a strong defence against the rising tide of Islamic fundamentalism. A- mong its followers, there is a tendency to define Alevism as a culture rather than a religion. In the Alevi culture, emphasis is placed upon humanitarianism and egalitarianism, which includes gender equality. Women in Alevi families enjoy more power and autonomy compared to conservative Sunni families. They do not practise gender segregation either. Moving to the city can be a liberating experience for these Alevi women. Their embrace of leftist ideology, 234 Patriarchy after Patriarchy which emphasizes equality as well as women’s higher education and conse- quent employment as professionals, may further help become more autonomous and emancipated (Ibid. 129p.). Since the 1970s, certain Islamic countries have required the veiling of women urgently. This requirement was connected to the critique of the western mode of modernization. In particular, the revolution in Iran linked the world of Islam with the world of politics. After 1980, the Islamistic movement became visible even in the strongholds of Turkish secularism, the universities. Islamistic female students required the abolishment of laws that forbid the veil in public buildings. Veiling is the most embattled element of the present Islamic movement, which rests upon the tension between Islamism, traditionalism, and modernity. Veiling is not an expression of continuity of tradition. On the contrary, it is a result of a new interpretation of Islam by the newly established urbanized social strata. It is directed against the traditional popular interpretation of Islam and points at establishing a collective female identity against western modernity (Göle 1995, 14, 18, 24, 105, 111, 113pp.). Islamistic ideology reveals this confrontation by questioning the equalization of “civilized” and “westernized”. Islamism questions the universality of one “civilization” that excludes Islamic otherness. Whereas the one group of women strengthens their identity by stressing feminism, the other group of women is doing the same by stressing Islam- ism: “Islam is beautiful”. Islamism as “politics of acceptance” provides women with power by giving them instruments against the equalization of being civilized and westernized. It strengthens women by providing them with collective identity. At the same time, Islamist politics supports the visibility of Islamist women in public and creates its own contra-elite (Ibid. 28p., 35). The most visible example of this new role assigned to women was their confrontation with state authorities over the question of covering their heads while attending university. This movement started as a protest against the legal prohibition of the Islamic headscarf for women students; gradually it became an issue of militant Muslim politics. The students wearing the veil claimed to do so because their faith demanded it and argued that their freedom of conscience was under constitutional guarantee. However, what originally started as spo- radic and unorganized demands for freedom of entry into universities soon turned into organized sit-ins and demonstrations. Interestingly, the türban- movement and the participation of women in it became instrumental in radical- izing the Islamist cause (Moghadam 2003, 181). Finally, in February of 2008, a law passed Turkish Parliament allowing the headscarf at universities. It is worth mentioning that in general opinion, veiling is not an important question for the male and female population in Turkey. According to the “World Values Survey”, in the year 2001, only for 7.9% of the male and for 4.9% of the female Turkish population was veiling “very important”; for 10.0% of the male and 6.1% of its female population it was “somewhat important”, and for The Continuity of Patriarchy 235

48.7% of the male and 60.3% of the female population the question was “not important at all”. Parallel with the emergence of the Islamic movement and its women’s wing, an autonomous feminist movement arose that became critical of the Turkish version of modernity and nationalism in the 1980s. This new wave of “radical feminists” distanced themselves from those who considered themselves Kemal- ist feminists and identified with the nation-state. They took up issues such as domestic violence, sexual harassment, and rape. Starting with the 1980s, with the largely informal and heterogeneous feminist movement, the expectation that women had to be modest, chaste, and virtuous, began to be challenged explicitly. In a march held in May 1987 to protest against domestic violence, about 2,500 women who where other than virtuous wives, respectable mothers, or self-sacrificing patriots, walked the streets of Istanbul, shouting “Enough! It is our turn to speak”. In 1989, feminists from Ankara and Istanbul came together for the First Feminists Weekend that came to be known popularly as the “Purple Needle”. During the event, purple needles were distributed for defence against sexual harassment on the streets. The slogan was “Our bodies belong to us”. It should be noted that secular feminists and Islamists have not clashed in Turkey to the extent they have in other countries. One of the reasons is that Islamists do not challenge Turkish secularism of women’s rights (Parla 2001, 76; Moghadam 2003, 182). The majority of women who constitute the contemporary scattered non-Islamic women’s movement are proponents of secularism and perceive Islam to be a threat to gender equality. However, opposition to the rise of Islamism does not necessarily entail feminist consciousness (Al-Ali 2000, 27p.). In Turkey, too, hundreds of women’s NGOs, most of them also funded by foreign donor organizations, are active. One excellent example, Ka-Mer (http://www.kamer.org.tr/), located in Diyarbarkır, the unofficial Kurdish capital in South-eastern Turkey, serves as an example of the difficult problems organizations like these are confronted with. Many women from the region, who have been abused, have sought help from this NGO. These women are young, illiterate or poorly educated, mostly unemployed and poor. They are usually to be married through arranged marriages and/or to very close relatives. Their families probably have received bride-price. Although their husbands are likely to be the worst and most frequent abusers, these women are also likely to experience abuse from numerous other extended family and kin. They almost never inherit land, depriving them from the possibility of becoming independent. Illiteracy of women and girls is rampant. Early marriage is followed by a move to patrilocal households. Women have little say on sexual matters. The patriarchal expectations and extended family pressure force them to bear children throughout their reproductive lives. Maternal mortality rates are extremely high. Cross-cousin marriage and arranged marriages are the rule. Although family law disbar material transactions between families for the purpose of marriage, bride-price is frequently demanded. It is called süt parası – “money 236 Patriarchy after Patriarchy for mother’s milk”. Violence against women is an everyday experience. The majority comes from their husbands (43%), followed by their fathers-in-law, their fathers and elder brothers. The most important reason why women stay with the abuser is that “children need a father”. When asked why they thought their husbands abused them, 39% of the respondents blamed their dire economic conditions, 22% blamed outside forces (including the extended family), and 18% their own behaviour (Erkan 2003, 61-74). Ka-Mer is one example, but there are many more women’s initiatives that are fighting for their rights. Just to mention the growing number of young Albanian women with college educations in Macedonia, who often reject traditional values and want to work in paid jobs (Dimova 2006, 317). In the Caucasus, in countries such as Azerbaijan, civil society is emerging on the horizon. The number of informal and non-governmental women’s organizations is increasing, also regionally linked. An example of such a transnational network is the “Working Together – Networking Women in the Caucasus”, which is sponsored by the Institute for Democracy in Eastern Europe. This is a program for women leaders in Armenia, Azerbaijan, and Georgia. In 1999, the institute launched the Working Together-project “in response to the needs of women NGO activists for greater cross-border networking and NGO development in a historically and ethnically divided region, and to the need for promoting and advancing women in societies where men have traditionally played dominant roles in the community” (http://www.idee.org/). This short overview shows that women’s movements in the region, although still fragmented and dependent from foreign donor organizations, are re- strengthening after a period of politically imposed passivity. These emerging movements, organizations, and NGOs are signs of a civil society in formation as well as of the establishment of a strong social basis that may move male- dominated democracies into democracies that represent the autochthonous will of both men and women. This subchapter makes explicit how and in which ways private and public patriarchy are interwoven. After 1989, people tended to return to family practises “as they were before communism”. This, however, was never and nowhere realized, but some signs are visible. One of the easiest things was to establish a male-dominated division of labour with women in low paid labour sectors, although they generally have received at least equal formal education to men (except Turkey). This constitutes an inheritance from the socialist period, which, again, inherited from the pre-socialist era. Low paid women are not a specificity of the region but a worldwide phenomenon. What is really striking is the retreat of women from the political sphere. Democracy depends upon who forms it. Men in practise shape most democracies in the world. Taking formal measurements as parameters, the numbers of male and female Members of Parliaments are indicative, because they reflect the value of male and female voices in public. The number of women Members of Parliament in Turkey has The Continuity of Patriarchy 237 been stable at a very low niveau since seven decades. Socialist states had introduced quota of female representation, which obscured patriarchal reality. Meanwhile, many of the liberal, centrist, and leftist political parties in Europe have introduced quotas of female representation in their decisive bodies and parliamentary representations. It is, of course, no coincidence that such an endeavour has been avoided until now in Eurasia Minor under established formal- democratic conditions. Democracies are male democracies. Representation in Parliament can be perceived as formality, but it is not because it indicates a line of decisions and awareness that spreads to the bedroom. Patriarchy will stay in power until women take the initiative and enforce equal rights – in Parliament, in other public spheres, as well as in the bedroom.

3. Contemporary Gender Relations

“Over a long historical period, very likely more than two centuries, the trend in family changes seems to be toward weakening of family controls. Family law systems were gradually transformed, as cause or effect, in the same direction. Will this trend continue indefinitely into the future? I have characterized it as the widespread decrease in people’s willingness to make long-term investments in the collectivity of the family because the probable payoff is not good e- nough... I do think the trend is real and continuing. When I examine the large number of factors that scholars have said are causing the trend, none of them seems to be diminishing in their impact. All continue to be strong.” (Goode 2003, 17)

“The trend in family changes seems to be toward weakening of family controls”, family is losing power, and in this way, traditional patriarchy is losing power, says one of the most influential family sociologists of the 20th century, William J. Goode. This is one of Goode’s famous generalizations, which cannot be accepted unquestioned. Take, for instance, Turkey. There are practically no indicators of a weakened family. Familial power is much more pronounced and traditional patriarchal structures therefore are also stronger compared to the country’s Eurasia Minor neighbours, where family cohesion again is still stronger than elsewhere in Europe. History teaches us that patriarchy is a flexible concept and can take on different forms in order to block the transformation from patriarchy to gender equality. In Eurasia Minor, we are witnesses of three forms of rejection of progress in gender relations: (1) Turkey in its Islamist malaise, (2) the post-socialist societies with their loudly expressed desire to re- establish conservative family and gender order as it used to be before socialism, and (3) the countries having been at war such as the former republics of Serbia, Montenegro, and Bosnia-Herzegovina, or regional conflicts such as the 238 Patriarchy after Patriarchy permanent struggle between the Kurdish militant fighters affiliated to the PKK and the Turkish military. We have to consider two aspects of these three constellations: (1) they are not short-term, except the wars in former Yugoslavia that have definitely ended. (2) There is not a one-way development from one point in history to the other, from patriarchy to gender equality, from an ideology of patrilineality to an ideology of equality. There are always phases of setbacks like in the post-socialist countries in the Balkans or in Turkey under the impact of the Islamist movement. Usually, the whole society never shifts from one status to the other. Traditional elements of gender relations are in permanent confrontation with modern ones and vice versa; tradition and modernity permanently exist at the same time. Industrialized lifestyle and “modern” life in the region began about five decades ago; two or three generations are involved in this process. This is not very much. Generally, in the streets of Is- tanbul, Belgrade, or Sofia, one can observe both, tradition and modernity; post- modern as well as traditional lifestyles and gender behaviour. Both are present at the same time. If there were a peaceful competition between all the traditionalists and modernists, I would not dare to risk a prognosis in favour of the modernists at this point of time. The task of this subchapter is to ask questions the answers of which can contribute to the solution of the book’s basic question. Gender relations in post- socialist countries have undergone radical changes caused by similar changes on the socioeconomic macro-level within a short period of time. Becoming included into the global streams of migration was a completely new experience of peoples confined hitherto behind the Iron Curtain. Space does not seriously matter any longer for familial cooperation; the question is its impact on gender relations. A second question is the vague appearance of the so-called “Second Demographic Transition” on the horizon. Indicators of the SDT are visible, but only few facts indicate dissolution of the family similar to the process that has taken place since the second half of the 20th century in the western world, which is supposedly a precondition for the dissolution of patriarchy. A third question is how people, men and women, regulate fertility. This question has very much to do with gender relations and constitutes one of the core issues of patriarchy in the modern world. The question under which conditions current marriages are contracted is crucial. In order to come close to an answer for the central question – Patriarchy after patriarchy? – we have to have a look on youth and how youth, young men and women, deals with the gender issue.

The Transnational Household

Labour migration touches patriarchal life in various fields, but the results of the confrontation of different worlds of cultural origin with the country of destination are certainly not homogenous. Since a few years ago, scholarly literature The Continuity of Patriarchy 239 avoids the term “migrant family”, preferring “transnational family” instead. “Transnational families” are considered families that are separated some time or most of the time, and which are kept together by the sentiment of joint prosperity and unity over transnational borders. In the 1990s, the phenomenon of transnationalism was discussed under the perspective of mobility of goods and capital. The focus was on the regulations of crossing of borders, a question reflected in debates on multiple national affiliations and identities of transnational families (Bryceson & Vuorela 2002, 3p., 28). “Transnational relations” is consciously another term referring to the capability of “simple people” in loosening boundaries with their practises and strategies from below. In transnational relations, boundaries are being crossed, rather than maintained or negoti- ated, by state representatives. The main difference between transnational conditions in comparison to the past migratory flows has to do more with the quality and the quantity of cross-boundary nexuses. In other words, vast migration flows occurred also in the past, but nowadays there is the ability to construct extended and thick networks among people who in fact are settled very long distances from each other. Inexpensive call centres or the low priced telephone cards, internet and real-time communications, allow daily contacts. Addition- ally, remittances are transferred easier through interconnected banking systems and companies specialized in migrants’ remittances, even objects are travelling easier and faster by better operating mail systems. Through these ways during the last years, a plethora of human networks – mainly including family and household groupings – are developed anew and people find their ways to interact with each other neglecting the officially established boundaries and the rationalistically embedded distances. Transnational ties have also a profound influence on the life of migrants. Thus, the location of the family is a factor likely to modify the decision to return (Razum, Sahin-Hodoglugil & Polit 2005, 721). Albanian society is, for instance, mobile not only in terms of migration but also in terms of return and in terms of contacts; people keep in touch by visiting, calling, sending and carrying objects and remittances, thus, neglecting distances. The Albanian migration is the largest migratory flow compared to the size of the country within Europe. In a survey conducted in 2005, it appears that 89% of the Albanian migrants in the European countries return at least once or twice a year to Albania, and almost 20% return more than five times per year (Dalakoglou 2006). Most of the labour migrants from Eurasia Minor live in Western and Central Europe, many of them in North America and Australia. Most of them have a rural background. They usually go or are sent to earn money when they are young. The big question is how and whether they transform their traditional socialisation in the new and usually urban context of a foreign country. This transformation or translation can turn out to be a painful process, when marriage partners and generations go a different pace and maybe into different directions. Men on labour migration prefer to marry women from their village 240 Patriarchy after Patriarchy of origin. This kind of endogamy usually may end up in a contradictory process of integration and/or alienation. Living in another country and in a culture that is experienced as “different” does not automatically change the patriarchal psyche of the labour migrant – on the contrary: in many cases it becomes affirmed. Migrants come back to their countries of origin with more conservative views than people having permanently lived in the country; sometimes they come back as modernizer. In both the cases conflicts and frictions between migrants and those staying at home are frequent. The concept of the “transnational household” sounds convincing, but one has to question, for instance, the impact of modern and post-modern communication technologies in migration contexts where they are unused by those concerned. Migration generally has more positive effects on men than it does on women. Female migrants generally experience lower occupational status, longer working hours, and lower earnings (Abadan-Unat 1982, 214); migrant wives are exposed to isolation and marriageable daughters remain under strict control of their fathers. Family fragmentation does not always result in the decrease of traditional authority patterns; the egalitarian background of the country of migration rarely changes the traditional cultural backgrounds of migrants. Family fragmentation caused by migration was almost a rule in former decades; the recent policy of European countries of family reunion has decreased its effects. It has been acceptable for a family unit to remain separated for years. In Turkey, such a practise was widely traditionally accepted for men, while wives or children would be entrusted to the care of relatives. The big change has been triggered by external migration. Not only were unmarried and married women without their families permitted in recent years to leave in order to secure jobs abroad, but women heading households also became acceptable for the families left behind. These families could choose between either joining spouses’ families or leading an independent existence in their own homes. Heading a separate house in the village is one of the most important functional changes in the role of women brought about by migration. However, fragmentation produces a great number of inconveniences, too: separation of spouses may result in very long absences, causing alienation within marital life. Due to various reasons such as the desire to educate children in the home country, unemployment, and bad housing, women are more likely to return to their home country. Fragmentation in such cases increases mistrust among partners, fears of divorce, neglect of children, and deprivation of affection (Ibid. 223). The increasing number of fragmented families due to migration affects authority patterns and decision-making within the family both abroad, and left behind in Turkey, and almost forces women to act independently. Those who are a- broad have their own bank accounts, and feel free to invite their own relatives or friends to their homes for lengthy periods. In the home country, wherever women act as head of the family in the absence of their husbands, who are migrant workers abroad, they are obliged to carry on a number of previously un- The Continuity of Patriarchy 241 known transactions such as cashing remittances from the post office or bank, requesting credit for crops or building, and choosing the place and type of schools for their children. Women migrants who have acquired economic independence abroad or those who are leading an independent life at home in Tur- key increasingly handle their incomes, savings, and investments more autono- mously. However, migration does not enlarge the horizons of women in terms of participating in decision-making and inevitably sharing authority with the husband. The dominant pattern for husbands and fathers still seems to retain as long as possible their traditional privileges based upon inequality within the family and to attempt to transmit these values through socialization. Funda- mentalist, traditional moral values diffused through various socializing institutions such as Koran courses, cultural programs, films, and some press organs, deliberately counterbalance liberalizing tendencies (Ibid. 225p.). Migration provokes a rapid change with regard to familial responsibilities and work division. The degree of change strongly depends on whether the husband migrated first, in what kind of milieu the migrant family settles, and to what extent their social network acts as buffer mechanism to overcome the hardships of adjustments. Generally, even in cases of family reunion in countries placing a strong emphasis on egalitarian values and norms between marital partners, the married migrant woman worker remains attached to the values of her traditional upbringing. Even in cases where the women acted as vanguard and was the first to obtain a work permit, which happened rarely, thus acting as the head of the family and being the main breadwinner, reunion seldom produces an equal sharing of tasks. On the contrary, the economic independence achieved by migrant women almost inevitably leads to sharp conflicts (Ibid. 224). For women from cultures where the daily life of the sexes is traditionally separated, the only way to overcome loneliness is in a group of the same sex. Thus, the much criticized Turkish residential ghettos like Kreuzberg and Wedding in Berlin, Rijkoberg in Stockholm, or Feijenoord in Rotterdam actually provide a tightly structured community life, which presents the only means to escape total isolation. Integration in such communities decreases problems of daily life. However, by reinforcing traditional behaviour, the chances for an emanci- patory process within the family are blocked. While daily shopping is more or less acceptable, any further exploration in community life becomes an absolute taboo, especially for housewives (Ibid. 224p.). The least consulted persons in migrant families are daughters of marriageable age. Those who were born abroad or who joined their parents at an early age may have enjoyed professional training. However, the family head, under the influence of the social control exercised by the ethnic group to which he belongs, may advocate abrupt cessation of school attendance and force upon the girls the acceptance of pre-arranged marriages, many times in exchange for bride-prices (Ibid. 226). 242 Patriarchy after Patriarchy

Despite the variations in the degree of power and autonomy of the women of a transnational household, they all function within the framework of traditional patriarchy with the possible exception of the struggling young migrant women. Even the initiating migrant women do not question men’s superiority and domination in an ideological sense. As a result, although the migration context has opened up new bargaining potentials for migrant women, they have yet remained highly asymmetrical in their bargaining with patriarchy. However, today many Turkish migrant women accept patriarchy as a cultural script (Er- man 1998, 162). The different impacts on internal and international migration have been decreasing through new communication technologies, which even up the former differences. People in internal or external migration can be present “at home” at any time in a virtual sense. This helps to direct the remittances from abroad, provided that an appropriate decision hierarchy is given. The practise of transnational household does not necessarily change gender relations but rather af- firms them. Via modern communication technology and satellite TV, the home- town and the family of origin is permanently transmitted into the living room of migrant families, which restricts the possibility of a break-out of wives from traditional socialization. Eurasia Minor’s societies are in a situation of permanent tension between internal, external, and non-migration, and of the constraints between conflicting demographic developments and value systems. The impact of transnational migration on gender relations is, therefore, hard to evaluate definitively. Sea- sonal labour migration in the 19th or early 20th century as analyzed in Chapter 1 is considered as an element of modernizing gender relations. One of the reasons for this was the absence of the husbands for the labour season. The new “transnational” labour migration differs from the old one in this point. New communication technologies enable the migrant father and husband to be present on a daily basis, although only virtually. Old labour migration was caused by a sharp population increase in the course of the FDT. Whereas the FDT has not yet ended in several regions of Eurasia Minor, weak signs of the SDT are supposedly already visible.

Weak Signs of The Second Demographic Transition

The theory of the FDT explains why fertility did not decline as rapidly as mortality did after a certain point of time. Mortality decline resulted from agricultural and industrial innovations, as well as from medical and sanitary advances. For fertility, the story is different. Pre-modern societies had to have very high fertility levels in order to survive given their high mortality rates. Many methods were used in order to reach this goal: religious doctrines, moral codes, laws, education, community customs, marriage habits, and family organizations The Continuity of Patriarchy 243 were focused toward maintaining high fertility. Obviously, it took time to adapt these habits and attitudes to the new mortality regime. According to Notestein, who developed the theory, only the emerging urban industrial living conditions of 19th century Western Europe provided the individualism for modern contraception (Notestein 1945, 40pp.). In most of Eurasia Minor’s countries, the cycle of preliminary fertility increase compared to mortality rates ended after WWII with low fertility rates. Fertility control began parallel with emerging industrialization and urbanization. The first transition has been proven to be universal. It was based on a deliberate individual or an imposed decision to limit family size and uncontrolled population increase. The SDT is supposedly universal, too. Dirk J. van de Kaa originally formulated the theory of the Second Demographic Transition. Western Europe’s second transition began, according to the author, in about 1965: the major distinguishing characteristic is population decline, which is already visible in many countries. The differential demographic outcome is the result of, among other things, changing norms and values. The first transition was altru- istic in the sense that changes in demographic behaviour were geared to the well-being of family and offspring. The mentality of the second transition is individualistic. It is not the family as such, but the right to self-fulfilment of the individual that is most important. The second transition to low fertility involves a shift from formal marriage to cohabitation, a shift from preventive contraception to self-fulfilling conception, and a shift from uniform to pluralistic families and households (van de Kaa 1987; Engelen 2004, 305p.). The SDT, therefore, is supposed to bring sustained sub-replacement fertility, a multitude of living arrangements other than marriage, the disconnection of marriage and procreation, and no stationary population. Instead, western populations face declining sizes, and if it were not for immigration, this decline would have started already in many European countries. In addition, extra gains in longevity at older ages combined with sustained sub-replacement, fertility will produce a major ageing effect as well. The first signs emerged, according to SDT theory, already in the 1950s with rising divorce rates, especially in Scandinavia and the USA. From the second half of the 1960s onward, also fertility started falling from its overall baby boom high. Moreover, the trend with respect to ages at first marriage was reversed again and proportions of singles started rising. Soon thereafter, it became evident that premarital cohabitation was on the rise. By the 1980s, even procreation within cohabiting unions had spread from Scandinavia to the rest of Western Europe. Both France and the UK have more than 40% of all births occurring out of wedlock, compared to 6% in 1960 (Lesthaeghe & Surkyn, 2004). The notion of SDT has not only found supporters but it has been also heavily criticized. It would be only a continuation of the FDT. The pro-argument is that during the FDT, the decline in fertility was unleashed by an enormous senti- mental and financial investment in the child, whereas the motivation during the 244 Patriarchy after Patriarchy

SDT is adult self-realization within the role or lifestyle as a parent or more completely fulfilled adult. During the FDT, the issue was to adopt contraception in order to avoid more pregnancies; during the SDT, the decision is to stop contraception in order to start a pregnancy. The societal background of the SDT can be summarized with individual autonomy, self-actualisation, expres- sive work and socialisation values, grass-roots democracy, disengagement from civic- and community-oriented networks, weakening social cohesion, retreat of the state, refusal of authority, rising symmetry in gender roles, female economic autonomy, multiple lifestyles, and open future (Ibid. 25). Until about 1990, it seemed that the SDT would remain a northwest European and transatlantic phenomenon. For Central-East and Eastern Europe in the mind of demographers, the situation seemed to change radically after 1989: all SDT features seemingly emerged simultaneously; ages at first marriage increased, premarital cohabitation rose, and so did proportions of extra-marital births. Together with later union formation, childbearing age drastically increased for all ages and parities. Everywhere in Eastern Europe, a fertility decline is to be observed. The question is whether this is due to the economic crisis or rather to the change of values. The younger generations, which were to marry and start childbearing during the 1990s, had different priorities and aspirations compared with those of the older cohorts who had spent much of their lives in the socialist era. The cross-sectional “footprints” of the selection- adaptation model are found in all cases, including Eastern Europe, and the o- verall profiles of non-conformity according to living arrangements are following the western pattern to a remarkable degree. However, in terms of behaviour, Eastern Europe has not yet reached the “take-off” phase, but in terms of changes in values since 1990, new patterns of household formation have gained initial acceptability. Hence, a further diffusion of the features of the SDT to Eastern Europe should no longer come as a surprise (Lesthaeghe 2002, 198, 215p.). In 2002, all former socialist countries had fertility rates below 1.35. The sole exceptions were Albania with rates around 2.0, Macedonia, and Serbia- Montenegro with rates around 1.75. Southern European countries have figures comparable to Eastern Europe. The eastern Mediterranean constitutes the last area to be effected. There are indicators that the SDT might become a worldwide phenomenon (Lesthaeghe & Surkyn 2004). The enthusiasm of the evolutionist demographers is remarkable. Self-fulfilling prophecy sometimes is a powerful means – but also in this case? To be “western” is a widespread dream of Eurasia Minor’s populations. But what does this concretely mean in relation to demographic behaviour? Let us have a closer look. By 1975, the marriage rate was going down all over Western Europe north of the Alps and the Pyrenees. There are three sociodemographic processes at work: (1) postponement of marriage; (2) informal cohabitation and, 3) a tendency to live single. A special variant of singlehood is a delinking of parenting from pairing, and the increase of single parenthood. All three tendencies were integral parts of the modern Western European family system as it devel- The Continuity of Patriarchy 245 oped since the Middle Ages, and in particular from the late 18th until the early 20th century (Therborn 2006, 194). Cohabitation has only recently reached into Eastern Europe. It is still rare or marginal in almost all of Asia and in North Africa. In Japan e.g., in 1997, only 8% of women aged 30-34 and 5% aged 25-29 had sexually cohabited. In China in 1989, less than 1% of all couples were cohabiting with neither a certificate nor a wedding. In the Caucasus, the Demographic and Health Survey of Arme- nia failed to register any non-marginal cohabitation. A few percent only, of the most prone age groups, were discovered in post-Soviet Central Asia in the late 1990s (Ibid. 20p.). Turning to Eurasia Minor, phenomena that might be indicators of the SDT are on the horizon, but the indicators are still hard to interpret – is it economic hardship or a change of values? For Serbia, the question whether the country follows the western trend from marriage to different forms of partnership (cohabitation, extramarital families) can easily be answered: not yet. Serbian demographers discovered an alleged Serbian speciality: the SIRYA (Steady Inti- mate Relationships of Young Adults). Individuals became attached to one another based on a romantic complex (love, sexual attraction), but the essential dimensions of a “firmer” union are missing: residential, functional (household) and sociodemographic (reproduction). These unions can last for a very long time due to the specific compelling circumstances and lack of resources. But only 1.9% of the Serbian population practises SIRYA (Bobiü 2005, 227). Most Serbian relations end up with marriage (Table 46).

Table 46: Serbian Population by Marital Status (over 15 years of age) (in per cent, 2003)

Never married 17.6 Married 63.3 Divorced 5.4 Widowed 12.3 Others 1.3 Source: Bobiü 2005, 227

This data might indicate a slow transformation of the conjugal-family paradigm towards alternative living arrangements. Data, however, is quantitatively negligible. A qualitative research in Belgrade reveals that partnership unions were “modernized” primarily in their form, rather than in their essence. Everyday life in a couple is highly traditional, with asymmetric gender roles and patriarchal perspectives as far as the planning of life-courses was concerned. The changes in Serbia unfold very slowly and the proponents of change in partnership behaviour are young, urban, highly educated men and women, and de- 246 Patriarchy after Patriarchy scendents of urban families of the former socialist middle class (Ibid. 227, 237). Bulgaria seems to be much more “advanced” compared to Serbia. Marriage rates have steadily decreased over the last half a century. The number of marriages declined from 73,100 in 1970 to 44,800 in 1992. The marriage rate reached its lowest point in 1997 with 4.2 per 1,000 population (mostly due to the economic crisis). In 1992, 18.5% of births were delivered by unmarried women. Divorce rates remained constantly low: 1.3 in 1995 and 1.1 in 1997 per 1,000 population (Vassilev 1999, 71-74). Early marriage and early childbirths is the predominant model. For highly qualified specialists, this is of great importance, because at the beginning of their professional career, early pregnancy and motherhood is not a big occupational disadvantage. Support from grandparents helps young parents to practise their profession (Staykova 2004, 163). According to the 2001 census, incomplete families comprised 12.39% of the total population (82% of them were single mother families); 10-11% of all newborns belonged to mothers out of marriage. Cohabitation is currently on the increase as an alternative model to traditional marriage (13-15% of the population). Most of the cohabitees are under 29 years of age. Men compared to women are in favour of cohabitation. Most of them live in Sofia. Cohabitation is most popular among the Roma population (17.1%). Incomplete family and the cohabitation-family have been accepted by Bulgarian society (Ibid. 166p.). Fertility behaviour in Bulgaria has been different among Orthodox-Bulgarians, Turks, and Roma. There was already a significant decrease in the average number of children in Orthodox-Bulgarian families during the 1980s and 1990s. Turkish and Roma families have relatively high fertility rates, the highest one is among Roma. Turkish families turn to a model with smaller number of children. Research in 1998, involving 260 women of reproductive age mirror traditional family relations: only 4.3% were without husbands; the mean age at marriage was 20.8; the average number of children was 1.69, and spouses planned two children. Forty-seven point eight per cent of the women had two children, 42.2% one. Sixty-two point nine per cent of the women considered children the most important aim in their lives (Semerdjieva 2003, 27p.). Paral- lel to this, an extraordinary increase of extramarital births is observed: from 11.4% in 1989 to about 49% in 2005. The mean age at marriage is higher then the mean age of women at first birth since 1994 – a completely new phenomenon. The divorce rate sharply decreased in the first years of transition from 14.2% in 1989 to 10.86% in 1993, but in the last few years it jumped from 13.0% in 2002 to 19.0% in 2005. Recent demographic trends and value changes show, according to the author, the first signs of the SDT: rise of age at first marriage, an increase of premarital and post-marital cohabitation and procreation in such unions; drastic rise of divorce rates and postponement of fertility. In parallel, a value-shift toward individualization, an increase of personal independence, and acceptance of unconventional marital ethics with stress on individual happiness have been registered. The author’s conclusion is that the tradi- The Continuity of Patriarchy 247 tional family is not dead, but it is quickly transforming into the northwest Eu- ropean patterns (Pamporov 2006). In Romania, the average age at marriage being 26.9 years for men and 23.6 for women was relatively high in 2000 (EU: 30 and 28, respectively). The average duration of marriage was 22 years, which signals high stability. The divorce rate with 1.3 per 1,000 inhabitants was low, natality was decreasing from 16 per 1,000 people (1989) to 10.5 per 1,000 people (2000); abortion rate was decreasing from 3.15 of every newborn (1990) to 1.09 (2000). Only 7% were single parents (85% of which were single mother families) (Robila 2004, 144p.). A national survey conducted in 2002 revealed that for 57% of the population family was most important in their lives. The most important factors for marital conflict were the economic situation and difficulties in the childrearing process. Gender roles are still considered the traditional way: according to a national survey conducted in 2000, 57% of men and 65% of women agreed that the woman is the chief of the house, while 86% of men and 81% of women agreed that the man is head of the family (Ibid. 145). The Romanian census of 2002 confirmed the prevalence of the conjugal family model: married couples with children were 56.2%; married couples without children were 30.9%; cohabitation became more widespread among young couples: in 2002, 3.8% of the population between 20 and 34 years, a rate much lower than in Bulgaria. The percentage of single-parent families increased from 10.6% in 1992 to 12.9% in 2002; this is due to increasing extramarital births and the increase of divorce rates. In 1993, 17% of living births were registered from unmarried mothers. Eleven years later, in 2004, this rate was already 29.4% (Gherghel 2006). In Moldova, 93.7% of the population lived in families and only 6.3% were single in 2000; 75% of men and women think that family is important. Birth rate decreased from 13 per 1,000 population in 1995 to 10.6 in 1999. The number of abortions has increased annually, and is still the main form of family planning. In 2002, the number of abortions was 15.6 per 1,000 women at fertile age. The number of marriages is decreasing; and so are divorce rates (from 24.5 divorces per 100 marriages, 1980 to 52.4, 2000). In 2002, 21,685 marriages and 12,698 divorces had been registered. A relatively new phenomenon is the increasing level of cohabitation. Research found out that 62% of the study’s respondents from the urban areas and 56% from the rural areas accept cohabitation. Young men have a more positive attitude towards cohabitation compared with their female counterparts. The number of children born out of wedlock increased from 17.5% in 1998 to 22.5% in 2001 (Bodrug-Lungu 2004, 176-180). In Greece, increasing participation of women in the labour market and in education, changing gender roles and relations in addition to high youth- unemployed levels as well as economic stability and growth have led to modernization of gender relations but not yet to definite indicators of an onset of 248 Patriarchy after Patriarchy the SDT. The number of households and families is increasing while their average size is becoming smaller because of growing rates of marital breakdown and fertility decline. Parents with one child are the dominant family form although its percentage has decreased from 42% to 38% over the last ten years. The percentage of a dependent child living with one parent has increased from 4% to 6%. The total proportion of people living in households with dependent children has decreased from 62% in 1988 to 53% in 1999, most likely because of the fertility decline. Family solidarity as expressed exclusively through the simple cohabitation of different generations has become weaker than in the past. Age at marriage continues to grow. Divorce rate has slightly increased from 15% to 17% during the second half of the 1990s. A move toward gender equality because of the increase in the level of educated females and in the labour market becomes visible. The education gap between men and women has almost disappeared. Family values remain strong with today’s young people. Moreover, the elderly prefer to live with their children more than elsewhere in the EU (91% compared to an EU average of 54%). Family ties have become different but not necessarily weaker than in the past (Bagavos 2001).

Table 47: Living with Parents (in per cent, around 2000)

No Yes Men Women Men Women Austria (1999) 78.2 88.4 21.8 11.6 Slovenia (1999) 67.3 75.5 32.7 24.5 Croatia (1999) 70.5 80.4 29.5 19.6 Italy (1999) 68.2 76.8 31.8 23.2 Greece (1999) 57.7 63.7 42.3 36.3 Albania (2001) 50.3 66.1 49.7 33.9 Bosnia (2001) 65.6 78.1 34.4 21.9 Bulgaria (1999) 68.6 77.6 31.4 22.4 Moldova (2002) 72.2 81.7 27.8 18.3 Romania (1999) 67.3 80.8 32.7 19.2 Turkey (2001) 59.0 70.2 41.0 29.8 Macedonia (2001) 59.5 74.6 40.5 25.4 Serbia (2001) 62.5 78.3 37.5 21.7 Montenegro (2001) 63.5 78.0 36.5 22.0 Source: World Values Survey

In most European countries, young women do not expect to live with parents, since they expect to marry out. In countries with a relatively high economic standard, such as Austria, children, married or unmarried, do not want to stay with their parents. The question is where they are expected to marry out – neolocally or patrilocally? The figures of the World Values Survey cannot pro- The Continuity of Patriarchy 249 vide a definite answer to that, but twice the amount of men in countries of Eu- rasia Minor such as Albania, Macedonia, or Turkey compared to Austria expect to stay with their parents – obviously, they feel obliged to take care of them. Another interpretation would be that young men are economically more dependent on parents than young women are, but this interpretation is rather un- realistic. Data suggest a high acceptance of the stem family, which has been characterized in this book as one of the transition forms from traditional patriarchal family to “modernized” versions (Table 47). At the same time, women having a child and living in a single household are not approved of to a high degree (Table 48).

Table 48: Women Who Want Children but Live in Single Household (in per cent, men and women around 2000)

Disapprove Approve Depends Men Women Men Women Men Women Austria (1999) 25.8 25.5 42.2 34.5 31.9 40.0 Slovenia (1999) 22.0 17.9 50.8 60.0 27.2 22.1 Croatia (1999) 19.3 16.0 62.6 69.1 18.1 14.8 Italy (1999) 39.6 41.1 27.9 27.4 32.5 31.5 Greece (1999) 47.5 38.4 28.4 32.5 24.1 29.1 Albania (2002) 58.0 63.5 11.5 11.7 30.5 24.8 Bosnia (2001) 40.6 35.8 45.9 49.4 13.4 14.8 Bulgaria (1999) 33.7 36.8 44.5 48.2 21.8 15.0 Moldova (2002) 49.1 45.0 36.2 38.2 14.7 16.8 Romania (1999) 28.7 30.9 50.9 46.6 20.5 22.5 Macedonia (2001) 41.8 37.6 49.6 55.4 8.5 7.1 Serbia (2001) 30.9 24.4 50.5 56.9 18.6 18.6 Montenegro (2001) 42.0 34.6 33.3 40.8 24.8 24.6 Turkey (2001) 89.0 89.9 6.1 5.5 4.9 4.6 Source: World Values Survey

Among the Albanian and Turkish populations, the FDT has only just reached its final phase. Questions of patriarchal family relations and how to limit fertility are still in the foreground. In Kosovo/Kosova, especially in rural areas, women have no choice of husband, whereas young men at least get the chance to have a look at the photograph of their intended bride and say “no”. In some places, marriage arrangement is conducted entirely without any reference to the young people. The legal age for marriage is 16. Arranged marriages are linked to a climate that effectively silences women. Unmarried couples living together are extremely unusual, as young unmarried people are expected to live with their families until they engage in the traditional marriage ritual. If the couple does not have a formal marriage ceremony at the time they begin living to- 250 Patriarchy after Patriarchy gether, the community would not perceive them as a married couple. Most marriages have not been legally registered with the state, but only formalized by customary law and traditional rituals (International Helsinki Federation for Human Rights 2000, 512p.). Turkey’s final phase of the FDT is characterized by people’s concern with fertility control and by decreasing birth rates. Contraceptive prevalence rate increased from 62.6% (1993) to 71.0 (2003). Contraceptive knowledge was practically universal (99.8%) in 2003 (Turkstat). Despite a general decreasing trend of the total fertility rate, a relatively high birth rate (4.2) is still sustained in Eastern Anatolia. The rate of contraceptive use here is only 42% (Sahin & Sa- hin 2003, 11p.). A survey among 534 women between 15 and 45 (44% illiterate) was carried out in the eastern districts of Turkey in 2000 and 2001. Rea- sons for not using family planning methods for 38% of women were not having the approval of the husband and household head. About 32.5% stated that it was a sin to use a family planning method, 14.1% said it could cause abnormal bleeding, 7.3% believed that it could cause infertility, 4.7% believed that it causes cancer, and 3.4% said that it would cause pelvic pain (Ibid. 12pp.). Research in the Umraniye district of Istanbul, however, shows that most people were against having “too many children”. Economic constraints appear to be the leading influencing factor for limiting the number of children. Culture and religious beliefs were not found to be major barriers to contraception in general, but they would influence the selection of the type of certain contraceptive methods. More specifically, culture and religious beliefs were barriers to use medical methods, and they were the main reasons for the use of the withdrawal method, which is the most common method in Turkey. Families with lower socioeconomic status tend to use less modern contraceptive methods and, as a consequence, have more children. This study, however, points out that those families with less income want to limit their family size just because of the same reason: economic constraints (Cebecı 2004, 94, 98). At present, none of the Eurasia Minor countries – except for Bulgaria – shows definite indicators of a SFT, which comprise changing values. The ups and downs of fertility, a small margin of cohabitation, an increasing age at marriage, and an increasing number of unmarried mothers might reflect the very beginning of the SFT, which cannot yet be considered sustainable and can be also simply interpreted as reaction to economic changes and the recovery from the wars in former Yugoslavia. The economic constraints are still too manifest to allow a large number of people the free choice of lifestyle. With the end of communism, family ideology continued to be important because mutual help of close kin was a pre-condition for economic survival. Increasingly, a tendency towards a more traditional family type with the man as breadwinner, a dependent wife and dependent unmarried children is becoming attractive (Wallace- Kovatcheva 1998, 131). In post-socialist countries, parental assistance for children continues to be very important. The costs of education have risen with The Continuity of Patriarchy 251 public grants being eroded or completely cut. The rising costs of education mean that young people are even more dependent than before upon parental support in order to continue their training and studies. Low incomes for young people mean that they are still not able to set up independent households upon marriage, not to speak about independent households before marriage. Young people have higher demands for autonomy but at the same time, they are dependent upon parents for longer periods of time. This put a certain amount of stress upon family relationships (Ibid. 148p.). One of the characteristics of the SFT is a shift from preventive contraception to self-fulfilling conception. If we look at dominating practises of sexuality and fertility control in the region, men and women exercise a manner of fertility control that is rather unique in comparison with Europeans; conscious and considered choice is certainly not a central concept of fertility control.

Fertility, Sexuality, and Contraception

After 1989, new family policies had to be developed in the post-socialist world. Knowledge of sex-related matters was low. Ignorance regarding sex was widespread even among media workers. In 1994, officials of the Bulgarian Family Planning Association still complained that many Bulgarian journalists did not understand such basic terms as contraceptives (Stloukal 1999, 32). There was also a lack of contraceptive knowledge amongst the doctors. Family planning is still regarded as an inferior type of medicine (Bruyniks 1994, 214). In countries such as Azerbaijan, sexual education does not exist (Popov & David 1999, 270). The few existing studies on reproduction behaviour in the Central-Eastern Eu- ropean countries show that fatalism ranked high among reasons reported by women not using modern contraceptives (Stloukal 1999, 32, 34). Almost twice as many women in transitional countries, in comparison to EU countries, do not use contraception. This resulted in the adoption of alternative practises, as reflected in high abortion rates. After contraceptives became widely obtainable – although relatively expensive – little or nothing was done to change the old habits (Štulhofer & Sandfort 2005, 7, 11). Both the access to information and education about reliable family planning methods and the access to those methods themselves are still poorly developed in most Central-Eastern European and Eurasia Minor countries. Thus, most countries in the region have mainly relied on abortion as a means of family planning. This excessive use of abortion has serious consequences for the reproductive health of the women. Abortion in many industrialised countries is safer than childbirth but the less than ideal circumstances under which many abortions are performed in the region, together with frequent use of repeated abortions, results in an increased incidence of both the early and late complica- 252 Patriarchy after Patriarchy tions of abortion, like anaemia (due to haemorrhage), infertility (due to infection), and premature delivery (due to cervical incompetence) (Bruyniks 1994, 204; Kovács 1997, 70pp.). If we have a closer look at the different countries we observe similarities as well as divergences in sexual practises and fertility control. In Albania, for instance, most city dwellers no longer considered a pregnancy shameful if it ended in marriage (1993). Fifty-five per cent of the highly educated women in Tirana had premarital sex, 75% of those women had premarital sex with partners other than their current husband. In 1995, a new abortion law was passed in Parliament; abortion is now legal for the first 12 weeks; after that time only health and social reasons allow abortion (Dymi & Pine 1999, 63, 65). Family planning was officially approved in 1992 as a fundamental right of all individuals. Various forms of modern contraception are now available with a pre- scription from doctors, including the Pill, IUDs, and injectables, but motivation to use contraceptives remains low – especially men’s acceptance of condoms. Withdrawal, backed by abortion, remains the most commonly practised method. In 1992, a survey among well-educated third-year social science and humanities students at the University of Tirana was conducted (65% of students were of rural origin): 51% of them reported that they have only limited or no knowledge of any fertility regulation method (Ibid. 64p.). In Bulgaria, the overthrow of the socialist regime coincided with a relaxation of abortion legislation. A new liberal abortion law was implemented in February 1990. Abortion on request was legal again for all women regardless of age until the 12th week after conception (Vassilev 1999, 78p.). In 1995, the Women in Transition Survey was conducted in Bulgaria. It included questions about knowledge and practise of contraceptives. The women in first marriages and between the ages of 15 and 44, not using any contraception, decreased from 24% (1976) to 14% in 1995. The proportion of married women using modern methods increased from 6% (1976) to 46% in 1995. For many women, withdrawal remains the primary method of fertility regulation. Modern contraceptives were considered to be too expensive (Ibid. 83pp.). Abortion is the dominating method of fertility control. More than 27% of the women in reproductive age have had one to two abortions. Only 31% of the population are using contraceptive methods. The dominating model is still the two-child family but the trend to one-child families is increasing. Bulgarian and Turkish families in Bulgaria have the same reproduction behaviour. However, in the Roma population, more than 50% have three or more children (International Helsinki Fed- eration for Human Rights 2000, 111). In Romania on January 1, 1990, a new law became effective authorizing the importation, production, and sale of modern contraceptives, and permitting abortion on request through the first trimester. In 1990, 992,300 abortions were registered – almost 200 per 1,000 women aged 15 to 44. The number decreased to 347,100 in 1997, when the abortion ratio stood at 1,465 per 1,000 live births. The Continuity of Patriarchy 253

A survey conducted in 1993 shows that only 34% of the respondents said that their most recent pregnancy was planned, 51% deemed it unwanted. Their answers reflected a high level of misinformation about modern contraceptives. In 1992, only 57% of women living in union reported that they or their partner were using contraception, 14% of them modern methods (Baban 1999, 200p., 211). Many women consider the legalization of abortion to be their “reward” for having endured the suffering and humiliation caused by the regime’s pronatalist politics. They consider abortion as their right. Once abortion was legalized, clinics were literally inundated with patients. In the summer of 1990, doctors claimed they had performed as many as thirty abortions a day. In 1992, repeated abortions accounted for 60% of all abortions; among these, 13% had been preceded by four or more legal abortions (Băban 2000, 233p.). In 1993, interviews about sexuality and abortion with 50 women of diverse age, socioeconomic status, and cultural background in the area of Cluj were conducted. Primary topics were: (1) sexuality was rarely discussed at home. Paren- tal prudery, ignorance, and prohibitions fostered a perception of sexuality as a taboo topic. Premarital sex was considered sinful and dirty, and virginity was over-evaluated. (2) Sexuality was perceived as a source of personal stress. Ini- tial embarrassment and shyness were followed by fears of unintended conceptions. The fear of using contraception heightened stress. (3) Repeated unintended and unwanted pregnancies were traumatic and often catastrophic life events. (4) The decision to abort was usually based on practical life considerations and rarely evoked ethical emotions (Baban 1999, 217p.). In 1993, another survey, related to sexual myths, was conducted among 186 women between 30 and 50 years: 93% believed that men have greater interest and readiness for sex than women; 81% held that men should take the initiative in making love; 69% thought that satisfaction of men’s sexual pleasure had priority over their own, and 50% thought that it was better to begin sexual life after marriage; only 6% thought that sexual life before marriage was necessary (Ibid. 218). In the 1990s, developments in Serbia went the opposite direction. The relatively low replacement fertility rate was viewed in Serbia as a dangerous and widespread social malaise and commonly referred to as “the white plague”. Many Serbs considered low fertility a threat – not only to the traditional family but also to the very existence of the Serbian nation. Calls for action to raise fertility levels had come from all key political players: the ruling Socialist Par- ty, major opposition parties, the Serbian Orthodox Church, and the Serbian Academy of Sciences. The loss of Serbian lives in the wars in Croatia and Bos- nia-Herzegovina sparked this concern, but growing birth rate-disparities between Serbs and ethnic minorities had raised it to the level of national alarm. At the end of the 1980s, the Serbian regime raised the question of an imbalance in the population’s demographic reproduction. The government pointed to a low fertility rate of 1.8 per 1,000 that was continuing to decline for the northern province of Vojvodina and for Serbia proper, and contrasted this with a high fertility rate of 4.3 per 1,000 for Kosovo/Kosova with its Albanian majority. 254 Patriarchy after Patriarchy

The major concern behind these initiatives was that if the low birth rate of Serbs and high birth rate of Albanians, Muslims, and Roma remained unchanged, the Serbs in their own country would soon be outnumbered by their ethnic minority groups. The low fertility groups were criticized for “selfish indulgence in materialistic goods”, “distorted value systems” and “blind race for standard”. This shift has provided an ideological justification for the limitations on women’s participation in labour force and in the public sphere, and acted as a stimulus to the tendency to see the primary role of women in reproduction (Shiffman, Skrabalo & Subotic 2002, 625-642). This “silent” patriarchy was advocated by Patriarch Pavle, the head of the Serbian Orthodox Church, too, when he addressed women in his 1995 Christmas message: he spoke about the “epidemic” threatening Serbia, namely, the declining birth rate. Serbia’s ability to reproduce itself was “endangered”. The infanticide had produced this situation – the infanticide by women who chose not to give birth to even more little Serbs. They were committing a threefold sin: toward themselves, toward the Serbian nation, and toward God (Papiü 1999, 160p.). In order to achieve higher fertility, motherhood was made more attractive and abortion was limited. In 1991, mothers were given a 12 months leave for the first and the second child, 24 months for the third child and 9 months for the fourth and all subsequent children. The Law on Pensions and Disability Insur- ance (1992) rewarded mothers who gave birth to their third child with two extra years of pension entitlement. The Law of Child Welfare (1994) guaranteed that the salary for employed mothers continued to be paid in full during maternity leave for the first, second, and third child, and at 80% for every subsequent child (Kapor-Stanulovic & David 1999, 307p.). In May 1993, a new abortion law was adopted by the Serbian Parliament according to which women were permitted to decide upon abortion only up to ten weeks after conception; a commission decided up to the 20th week of pregnancy; women between 16 and 18 years at age were obliged to obtain permission from both parents in order to have an abortion performed. The initial draft of this law did not recognize rape as a legitimate reason for abortion, but this paragraph was not adopted (Papiü 1999, 163). Two thirds of the world’s 12-15 million Roma live in Eastern Europe. In Bul- garia, Roma usually live in mahalle, larger geographically segregated districts with populations of 8,000-20,000 residents. Unemployment rates among Roma are from 60% for men to 95% for women. More than 84% of the Bulgarian Roma lives below the poverty line. Roma lack education and educational access. Only 6% of the Bulgarian Roma complete secondary education compared to the overall population. Virtually no Roma in Bulgaria gains university educations. There is greater sexual freedom and acceptance of extra-dyadic part- nerships of Roma men – whether unmarried or married. Roma of both genders endorse the view that women are expected to abstain from sexual relationships before marriage, and that the maintenance of female virginity until marriage is a strong cultural norm. By contrast, it is accepted that Roma men would have The Continuity of Patriarchy 255 sexual relationships before marriage and would often have extra-dyadic sexual relationships during their marriages. Most men view sexual contacts outside their primary marital relationships as normal and accepted. Reasons for these extra-dyadic relationships are included in a belief, endorsed by men and women that men have a stronger need for sex than women do (Kelly et al. 2004, 232-244). In Turkey, abortion has been allowed since 1983. A married woman needs the consent of her husband; a single woman aged 18 or older can decide herself. Under the age of 18, parental consent is needed. In case of a dispute between mother and father, the father decides (International Helsinki Federation for Human Rights 2000, 450). Data used from the 1993 Turkish Demographic and Health Survey reveals a link between the educational level of both spouses and the use of contraceptive methods. A woman’s education is a stronger predictor of method use and method choice than that of her husband. Increasing the educational level of women may be the most effective means of advancing family planning acceptance and increasing the demand for contraceptive services. Approximately one third of the women do not use any contraceptive method and approximately half of the current users practise traditional methods. A- mong currently married women, the most commonly used methods are withdrawal (26%), the IUD (19%), the condom (7%), and the Pill (5%) (Koc 2000, 329p.). Among 922 randomly selected sexually active women of reproductive age, the knowledge of at least one contraceptive method was universal in the second half of the 1990s. IUDs and withdrawal were the most commonly used methods. Illiterate women and housewives had less knowledge about some modern methods. Husbands were involved in family planning via discussing family size (79.4%) and contraception method (85.5%); 38.2% of males participated actively by using withdrawal or condom. Knowledge about methods did not indicate that women actually knew how to use the methods. IUDs, Pill, condom, withdrawal, and sterilization were the best-known methods. About 53.36% of the women used modern methods, 23.86% relied on traditional methods (coitus interruptus and periodic abstinence), and 22.78% used no contraceptive method (Vural et al. 1999, 325-330). Turkey has one of the highest rates of withdrawal-coitus interruptus-use in the world. Despite a pronounced fertility decline, a marked increase in contraceptive prevalence, and expansion of family planning activities, in 1998, still one in four Turkish couples relied on withdrawal, and this fraction has remained stable since 1983. Among other findings, less egalitarian-minded husbands were more likely to prefer withdrawal to other contraceptive methods, but measures of male authority had only partial predictive power after checking for other variables (Angin & Shorter 1998, 555). Whereas in Scandinavia, North America and Australia, withdrawal use became far less common after the mid- 1950s, withdrawal remained important for a longer period in Turkey, Spain, 256 Patriarchy after Patriarchy

Italy, Greece, Yugoslavia, Romania, and Bulgaria (Kulczycki 2004, 1019- 1025). Of all Turkish women in reproductive age, 28% had at least one abortion; the total abortion rate is 29.4% (International Helsinki Federation for Human Rights 2000, 450). There are, according to a 1993 survey, 18 abortions per 100 pregnancies or 25 per 100 live births (Behar, Courbage & Gürsoy 1999, 262). The abortion rate is 0.59 procedures per woman over her reproductive lifetime. Seventy-three per cent of the married women have never had an abortion – this indicates a very high incidence of repeated abortions. Thirteen per cent of the women had more abortions, and 14% had one (Senlet et al. 2001). In the South Caucasian countries, the usage of contraceptives seems to be even less widespread than in Turkey. A survey conducted in 1994-95 of fairly well- educated women in the Armenian capital of Yerevan revealed that in the month of conception, 87% of them had not used any form of contraception. Oral contraceptives and IUDs have to be imported and are available primarily in specialized clinics. Abortion is the most common method of fertility control. In Azerbaijan, in 1992, less than 2% of the women used contraceptives. In Geor- gia, the use of oral contraceptives and UIDs rose from 5% to 19% among fertile women (Popov & David 1999, 267-270). The data provided by the Human Development Report probably do not reflect the actual situation. The figures indicate the “Contraceptive prevalence rate” of married women, aged 15-49 (Table 49). They may be high in countries where men do not take part in fertility control and low where men participate at a higher degree. Besides that, data do not indicate the method of fertility control. If we compare contraceptive and abortion rates, the picture becomes more complex. In a country like Austria with a low figure of female prevalence rate and a very low abortion rate (and an average fertility rate of 1.4%), the active participation of men in fertility control becomes obvious, on the one hand. In Bulgaria, on the other hand, women’s use of contraception is also low, but men’s participation must be much lower than in Austria, since Bulgaria’s abortion rate is more than ten times higher than Austria’s (at about the same fertility rate); the situation is similar in Romania with its very high abortion rate. The data for Turkey and Albania have to be interpreted in the light of high fertility rates (2.3 and 2.5, respectively). One of the doors to the SDT, the shift from preventive contraception to fulfilling and conscious family planning, is not yet on the horizon. In Eurasia Minor, one of the most striking differences to the rest of Europe is sexual behaviour and fertility control, the victims of which are women and women’s bodies. Abortion is obviously the main method of fertility control besides withdrawal – coitus interruptus, which preserves sexual power at the men’s side. All available figures indicate that abortion in most of the countries of Eurasia Minor is significantly higher than in other European countries (Table 50). The figures are hardly comparable since the legal basis was and is not the same in the dif- The Continuity of Patriarchy 257 ferent countries; in Romania, for instance, abortion was strictly limited until 1990; the stronger the limitations, usually the higher the number of illegal abortions.

Table 49: Contraceptive Prevalence Rate (married women ages 15-49), in per cent, 1995-2003, in Relation to the Percentage of Pregnancies Aborted

Contraceptive Rate Abortion Rate Central-East Europe Austria 51 3.0 (2000) Slovenia 74 29.5 (2002) Hungary 77 36.7 (2002) Slovakia 74 25.5 (2002) Mediterranean Spain 81 15.3 (2003)* Portugal 66 0.3 (2002) Italy 60 19.1 (2002)* Greece – 11.1 (1996) Eurasia Minor Bulgaria 42 43.3 (2002) Macedonia – 28.0 (2000) Bosnia-Herzegovina 48 48.9 (1988) Albania 75 14.7 (2001)* Turkey 64 19.7 (1993)* Romania 64 51.2 (2003)* Moldavia 62 30.6 (2002) Serbia-Montenegro 58 31.4 (1998)* Caucasus Armenia 61 22.5 (2002)* Georgia 41 23.0 (2002)* Azerbaijan 55 13.0 (2002)* * Data incomplete or estimated Source: Human Development Report 2005; Global Abortion Summary, version 3, last update 13 August 2005, compiled by Wm. Robert Johnston

Some results of the World Values Survey indicate a comparatively high rate of approval of abortion in the countries of Eurasia Minor for unmarried (Table 51) and married women (Table 52). 258 Patriarchy after Patriarchy

Table 50: Number of Legal Induced Abortions per 100 Live Births, by Country (in per cent, 1970-1999)

1970 1975 1980 1985 1990 1995 1999 United Kingdom 10.2 21.12 22.4 24.1 24.7 23.9 26.5 Austria 13.9 28.2 25.7 20.5 3.9 2.8 – Italy – – 32.4 36.4 28.4 26.0 – Greece – 0.0 0.1 0.2 9.9 – – Albania – 16.2 22.5 26.4 31.8 45.2 – Bulgaria 102.7 99.2 121.7 111.2 137.5 134.9 – Macedonia 39.8 44.6 67.2 77.1 62.1 49.2 – Moldavia 123.4 118.0 121.0 113.5 106.3 101.4 – Romania 68.5 85.9 103.6 84.4 315.3 212.5 – Yugoslavia – – – 133.6 126.2 68.9 – Source: Kertzer & Barbagli 2003, XXVII

Table 51: Should a Woman Abort, If She is Not Married? (Percentage of approval), 1999

Total Male Female Austria 44.8 44.7 44.8 Slovenia 69.4 68.9 69.9 Croatia 62.1 64.6 59.8 Greece 67.7 68.2 67.4 Italy 38.8 44.5 33.7 Bulgaria 67.7 67.4 68.0 Romania 58.9 62.6 55.2 Source: World Values Survey

The region of Eurasia Minor does not have a great and long tradition of using contraceptives for the purpose of fertility control. The main reasons for this were late industrialization, the pro-natalist policies of most of their governments in socialist times, as well as male-dominated sexual relations. Family planning as a concept is not well-known enough and consciousness of it exists only on a low level. Fertility control consists in most people’s lives of a combination of no prevention at all or the traditional combination-method of coitus interruptus with abortion. Birth rates are declining everywhere in the region. Because of the lack of effective fertility control, abortion rates are extremely high. How to interpret this system of fertility checking through the lenses of The Continuity of Patriarchy 259 gender? One does not necessarily have to be trained by radical feminists in order to recognise that this “system” consists of an extreme exploitation of the women’s bodies. Efficient fertility prevention on the woman’s side is much more expensive than men’s means, which can be applied exactly for the time necessary. Men obviously do not care very much about fertility control. They prefer coitus interruptus because they consider this method as “natural” – and it leaves power to them and their penises. As far as data can reveal, women who abort, do this frequently. Frequent abortions have physical and psychological consequences; unlimited men’s sexual pleasure on the cost of healthiness of the female body?

Table 52: Should a Married Woman Abort, if She Does Not Want to Have More Children? (Percentage of approval, 1999)

Total Male Female Austria 44.1 45.9 42.5 Slovenia 75.2 74.8 75.6 Croatia 55.7 56.2 55.2 Greece 55.0 54.6 55.2 Italy 31.0 35.0 27.3 Bulgaria 81.2 79.5 82.6 Romania 57.0 59.9 54.1 Source: World Values Survey

Research in the former Yugoslavia and the successor state of Serbia clearly reveals, firstly, that male-dominated gender relations shape reproductive behaviour and contraceptive practises and, secondly, that there is continuity in this respect from the socialist period to the post-socialist one. In former Yugoslavia, most of the contraceptives were covered by health insurance. For abortion, however, a fee had to be paid. Nevertheless, in 1987, the abortion ratio (number of abortions per 1,000 live births) was 1.018 (Drezgiü 2004, 99). This has been correctly interpreted as just a surface expression of a deep rooted cultural pattern of asymmetric gender relations within the private domain: the traditional method of coitus interruptus symbolizes man’s virility and provides him with a sense of control over the relationship and abortion the unequal distribution of power within sexual relations (Ibid. 100). Women rarely if ever decide themselves what contraceptive method to use in order to avoid pregnancy. Par- ticularly within marriage, decision about contraception seems to be taken by husbands (Ibid. 105). Research in Serbia conducted in 1997-98 reveals that giving control over reproductive risk to men does not only make women passive victims of male domination; women are also agents in reproducing hegemonic gender roles and relations. Most of the interviewed women rely on their 260 Patriarchy after Patriarchy husbands’ skills in order to “protect” them from pregnancy and do not speculate about alternatives in fertility control (Ibid. 102-106).

Marriage and Marriage Arrangements

The question whether “Marriage is an outdated institution” suggests a higher rate of the answer “no” for societies with primarily personalized societies compared to institutionalized societies. This expectation holds true as soon as we come to the figures (Table 53). For more than a quarter of the Slovenian population and about one fifth of the Austrian population, marriage is outdated, whereas only slightly more than 8% of the Turkish population agrees with this statement. The high degree of agreement in Moldova is astonishing.

Table 53: Marriage Is An Outdated Institution? (Percentage of approval, 1999)

Total Male Female Austria 20.1 20.4 19.7 Slovenia 27.4 30.3 25.0 Croatia 8.3 8.1 8.4 Italy 17.0 19.0 15.1 Greece 15.7 16.6 15.1 Albania 8.6 11.8 5.6 Bosnia-Herzegovina 13.9 11.3 16.4 Bulgaria 17.9 19.3 16.7 Moldova 31.6 35.4 28.3 Romania 12.5 12.8 12.2 Turkey (2001) 8.5 8.7 8.3 Macedonia (2001) 18.3 19.3 17.3 Serbia (2001) 17.6 16.7 18.5 Montenegro (2001) 12.1 13.4 10.9 Source: World Values Survey

“Living together as married” is very unusual in the region. According to the World Values Survey, this is practised by just 1.1% of the population in Alba- nia (2002), in Bosnia-Herzegovina by 0.6% of men and women (2001), in Moldova by 3.5% (2002), in Macedonia by 2.4% (2001), in Serbia by 2.3% (2001), in Montenegro by 1.9% (2001), and in Turkey by 0.3% (2001). “Impor- tance of family in life” is, of course, generally a highly supported value, but emphasized strongest in the region of Eurasia Minor in European comparison (Table 54) with lowest agreement in Bulgaria. The Continuity of Patriarchy 261

Table 54: Importance of Family in Life (Percentage of importance, total of men and women)

Very Important Rather Important Not very Important Not at all Austria (1999) 89.1 9.3 1.2 0.4 Slovenia (1999) 82.2 15.0 2.0 0.8 Croatia (1999) 78.7 20.4 0.8 0.1 Italy (1999) 90.0 8.6 0.8 0.6 Greece (1999) 82.6 15.4 1.3 0.7 Albania (2002) 96.1 3.1 0.8 0.0 Bosnia (2001) 98.7 1.3 0.0 0.0 Bulgaria (1999) 82.8 14.6 2.0 0.6 Macedonia (2001) 98.1 1.5 0.4 0.1 Moldova (2002) 85.8 12.2 1.7 0.3 Romania (1999) 85.1 12.7 1.6 0.6 Serbia (2001) 92.1 7.0 0.8 0.1 Montenegro (2001) 92.3 7.5 0.1 0.1 Turkey (2001) 97.4 2.1 0.3 0.2 Source: World Values Survey

Whereas in urban environments, marriage arrangements have become very liberal – except for cities in Eastern and South-eastern Anatolia – the Eurasia Minor’s countryside still resembles traditional patterns; this is the case in the above-mentioned core regions of patriarchy and especially in South-eastern Anatolia. This includes practises such as forced marriage, exchange marriage, religious marriage only, or paying of bride-price. These practises are against the law, but weak states are not able to prevent their population from doing so. Turkish marriage arrangements are considered rather traditional. Women are expected to get married not later than their late 20s, and virtually all women marry. According to The Turkish Demographic and Health Survey (1993), 96% of women between 30 and 34 were married; those who have never married constitute only 1%. Since divorce is hardly accepted by society, marital dissolution is mostly through widowhood. Also remarriage is not very common. Despite the fact that it is forbidden by law, however, religious-only unions are commonly practised all over the country. It is more common in the rural areas and among less educated men and women. According to the survey results, 7.5% of the ever married women are in religious-only unions. Since religious- only marriages are not recognized by the law and are considered to be illegitimate, women in religious-only unions are in a disadvantaged position. Thus, women in religious-only marital unions are trapped in a low status both in their marital and social life. One quarter of the marriages of ever-married women are marriages that are arranged by the couples themselves. Arrangement of mar- 262 Patriarchy after Patriarchy riage by the family is very common. Although the consent of the woman is sought in most of these family arranged marriages (53.6%), a marriage arranged by the family is an indicator of a conservative setting, which gives little or no initiative to the woman. This lack of initiative at the very beginning of her marital life prepares a basis of low status for the woman in her subsequent family life (Akadli Ergöçmen 1997, 92p.) (Table 55).

Table 55: Distribution of Ever-Married Women by Decision Making Attributes (in per cent, Turkey 1993)

Region Participation in Decision West 39.4 South 27.6 Central 20.6 North 23.6 East 9.6

Urban 34.1 Rural 10.2 Source: Akadli Ergöçmen 1997, 96

The percentages of arranged marriages are lower for urban, young, and well- educated sectors of the country so that the percentage of urban non-arranged marriages varies between 50% and 77% for individuals with junior high school education and above. Love marriages are also on the rise but involve a high degree of family intervention and contribution after the decision to marry is made by the prospective spouses (Hortaçsu 1999, 29pp.). The results of a study in 1999 revealed that the two types of marriages were different from each other but also shared some similarities. Specifically, earlier parenthood, greater decision making power of women in housework-related decisions, and less frequent interaction with the wife’s than husband’s family during the first months of marriage were more frequently evidenced for family than couple-initiated marriages. These differences between the two types of marriage emerged in spite of the fact that the educational level served as a co-variable in all analyses. Con- sidering the cultural value for interdependence and the high level of involvement of families with premarital arrangements, not surprisingly, Turkish style couple-initiated marriages tend to function within the larger family network. In fact, within a year, the two types of marriages became similar with respect to interactions with the network. On the other hand, arranged marriages in their modernized version seem to be conducive to high levels of positive spousal feelings. Thus, in the Turkish case, a “western” practise seems to have been The Continuity of Patriarchy 263 acculturated at the same time that a traditional practise has been modernized (Ibid. 38, 40). Payment of a bride-price is another common traditional practise. A certain a- mount of bride wealth, either in cash or in kind, is paid to the family of the bride. It is considered a symbol of chastity and an economic compensation in exchange for the loss of the labour of the young woman. Apparently, payment of bride-price is the reflection of a patriarchal system (Akadli Ergöçmen 1997, 94). Theoretically, the bride receives a mahr (considered as indirect dowry) from the side of the groom’s family. In practise, the baúlık (bride-price) is widespread, in villages more frequently than in towns – in 70% of the villages of Eastern and Central Anatolia, and the Black Sea region, and in 46.2% of the villages in the Mediterranean region. In Aydın, south of Antalya, the baúlık is negatively connotated. The family of the groom has to give a lot of gold jewellery to the bride, which can be considered as indirect dowry. In addition, they are provided with bride gifts (refrigerator, cooker, washing machine). Women from a poorer background buy cheap versions of these items for themselves. Jewellery and bride wealth remain in the woman’s ownership. In practise, it is difficult to get things back in the case of a divorce (Möwe 2000, 234-237). The minimum age at marriage is 17 for men and 15 for women – with parental permission. In abduction cases, the Turkish Criminal Code defines the rape of a virgin aged 15 or over with the promise of marriage as a crime. If the man marries her, the case and the punishment are deferred. It is very common that a rape victim is obliged to marry the man who raped her, effectively punishing the victim while the perpetrator is in fact acquitted. If a group of men abduct, rape, and commit sexual offences against a minor and one of the men who committed the crime marries the victim, charges against all men are dropped (International Helsinki Federation for Human Rights 2000, 447p.). In the period between 2001 and 2006, 5,375 women committed suicide in Tur- key in order to avoid forced marriage (Turkish Daily News, Jan. 29, 2007, 4). In regions of South-eastern Turkey, young women are still forced into marriage. In September 2006, young women staged a demonstration in a south- eastern city in protest of recent suicides of women not wanting to be married off. Fifteen young women in the first nine months of 2006 have committed suicide in Batman. An 18-year-old killed herself in the latest incident for not wanting to be married off to a 60-year-old who already had two wives. The protest of the young women, aged 14-20, has inspired other women in the region (Turkish Daily News, 30.9.2006, 9). For sure, not every case is linked to an unwanted marriage, but presumably many of them. Another report informs about a family of an eloped daughter that demanded a daughter as a bride and 5,000 Euros from the other family, in return for the loss and dishonour. The bride was a 17-year-old, while the groom from the other family was only 14 years old. The resistance of both was unsuccessful. They were forced into marriage. This kind of marriage is called berdel (exchange). Exchange-marriage is 264 Patriarchy after Patriarchy a rural tradition in South-eastern Turkey that continues in poor rural families. A male offers his sister to another man from another village in exchange for that man’s sister. This practise is an alternative to high dowries demanded from families (Turkish Daily News, 20.10.2006, 9; 9.11.2006, 9). In Azerbaijan, polygamy is gaining ground again, especially in the south of the country, close to the border with Iraq and Iran. It was prohibited in the Soviet Union. The Islamic Party of Azerbaijan applies pressure and seeks to bring the case to Parliament with the aim of changing the constitution. Estimates report a few dozen cases until recently. According to the Spiritual Directorate of Cauca- sus Muslims, a government-recognized body, several years ago its board of judges adopted a decree that religious dignitaries are allowed to register marriages only once a civil marriage certificate has been obtained. Reality is that village mullahs are contracting marriages without civil marriage certificates (Abbasov 2006). In the Republic of Macedonia, relations with extended kin are gradually decreasing; the marital relations have, therefore, gained importance. Frequently, economic circumstances do not allow a married couple to establish an independent life. Thus, it is common for couples to live with their parents. There is also a gradual rise in the number of married couples without children and single parent families. The economic crisis is leading to the postponement of marriage – except in the Albanian and Roma populations. The number of marital children is decreasing. Divorce rates tripled in the period from 1991 (32.4 divorces per 1,000 marriages) to 2002 (90.2) (Lakinska-Popovska & Bornarova 2004, 107p., 113pp.). Under the pressure of society, the major proportion of the Albanian population marries or is forced into marriage. What predominates in Albanian public opinion is the mentality that urges young Albanians to marry, and, immediately following marriage, to have or start a family. The desire for sons was very strong in the past and is still a dream for the majority of Albanian couples. Af- ter WWII, a considerable number of Albanian couples gave birth to ten or more daughters in the expectation of a son. Since the 1990s and since technology can help couples to find out the sex of the baby from the first months of pregnancy, and since abortion is legal, the cases of selective abortion are on the rise. Alba- nian women, in most cases under pressure from their husbands and close family, terminate pregnancy when a baby girl is expected (Murzaku & Dervishi 2003, 232p.). Another factor directly affecting marriage and sexual relations today is that a considerable number of males between the ages of 20 and 34 have left the country. Emigration is having a direct impact on the increase of average marriage age for young women and especially men. In 1960, the average age at marriage was 21.4 (women) and 26.9, respectively; in 1999, it was 23.3 (women) and 29.2, respectively. The number of marriages per adult citizens de- The Continuity of Patriarchy 265 creased. In 1990, there were 8.9 marriages per 1,000 adult citizens; in 1999, it had decreased to 8.1 (Ibid. 233). Cohabitation is complicated. In socialist times, cohabitation only took a few weeks or a month – and then marriage became obligatory. Right after the fall of communism, cohabitation came to the surface in Albanian society, especially in big cities like Tirana or Durrës. This kind of relationship was kept top secret. More than 30% of the 2,000 young women who lived in 16 very diverse regions and who were interviewed for a study, preferred living together with one or more partners rather than getting married. Cohabitation inspired by mutual love is more widespread among students and young professionals who graduated from college since the late 1990s. Usually, this group of people continued postgraduate studies or worked in the capital far away from their close family and relatives. Usually, the partners try to hide their cohabitation relationship (Ibid. 245-249). Interesting cases of non-marital marriage arrangements were reported in the 1990s from the Rhodopes. These non-marital unions were studied in the village of Devin (Central Rhodopes), Bulgaria, in 1995-1997 and 2000; the population then consisted of 56% Muslims and 44% Christians. An alternative form of family was practised: cohabitation, with or without children, without a legally recognized marriage but with family status. The Devin region is above average with extramarital births ranging between 20% and 40% (with a maximum of 65.56% in 1993), but decreasing since 1998. Even if there was no legal marriage, a man and a woman who had decided to live together announced their wish through a feast that usually did not differ essentially from a proper wedding. These “weddings” were called “little”. Only the closest circle was invited – that meant about 150 people! Such feasts were common mainly among Mus- lims. Among Christians, the young people told their closest relatives that they were going to live together. The cohabitation could last 5-7 years and they sometimes ended up in a legal marriage, primarily caused by the birth of a child. The couple usually lived in the home of the husband’s parents. Their relationship with their parents was not different from that of legally married couples. Even the traditional kinship terminology was preserved. This kind of “little” marriage can be explained by the socioeconomic conditions of the 1990s in Bulgaria. A “real” marriage would have resulted in an official dinner for 200 to 300 wedding guests, and the gifts would have been a great financial burden (Minþeva 2001, 165-180). After having almost finished this chapter, many of the discovered indicators are speaking for a hypothesis of a patriarchal backlash of most Eurasia Minor societies. Just to remind us of several of these indicators: the significantly higher degree of difficulty for women compared to men to economically survive outside of marriage; the importance of alternative networks, which are male- driven; the retreat of women from the public sphere and the (re)establishment of public patriarchy in form of male democracies; public patriarchy is com- 266 Patriarchy after Patriarchy pleted by private patriarchy, expressed by the increasing popularity of the male breadwinner model, by physical and psychological violence of men against women, by the image of the obedient wife, by an increasing dependency of children on the male breadwinner, by the high value of virginity, by the prevalence of male methods of fertility control; arranged marriages accompanied sometimes by bride-price, by traditional patriarchy in general in South-eastern Turkey, the Caucasus, and in the Western Balkans. Three general causes for a patriarchal backlash can be identified: (1) the climate of war in the 1990s (Bos- nia-Herzegovina, Serbia, Montenegro); (2) the re-Islamization in Turkey (and partly in Bosnia-Herzegovina, Albania, Kosovo/Kosova, Western Macedonia, South-eastern Bulgaria, and Northern Greece); (3) the general retradi- tionalization in post-socialist countries expressed by the general wish to link the contemporary world to the predominant values before socialist times. Greece falls outside this network of causes; it neither experiences a patriarchal backlash, nor is Greek society on a tough course towards gender equality. The overall reason for the patriarchal backlash is the weak, semi-tributary state, which is not able to apply its gender-directed laws. Coming to the end of the long story of gender relations in Eurasia Minor, the question of “Patriarchy after Patriarchy?” cannot be decided without considering the thinking of the young generation.

The Young Generation

“I also believe that society deserves to be placed at the bottom of this classification, not because I feel constrained or I bear a grudge against those around me, but simply because family will always be more important than a man in the street or a classmate. At least that’s what I think”. (Alina, a student in Bucha- rest, says that society fails to represent her, it rather makes things more difficult for her) http://www.rri.ro/index.php; 1999-2005 Copyright © Radio Romania International

Meanwhile, a young generation has grown up without experiencing socialist values, without experiencing war (except the NATO bombing of Serbian infrastructure in Serbia, Kosovo/Kosova, and Montenegro), and experiencing re- Islamization. Generally, the post-socialist generation of young people defines gender space and gender roles not so differently from the elder generation brought up during socialism. Our knowledge of sexuality and values of the young generation is spotty and incomplete. In 1997, a survey was conducted among adolescents (born under socialism, but mostly raised after socialism) in the capital cities of Bulgaria, Croatia, Poland, Slovakia, and Yugoslavia; it investigated some aspects of first sexual intercourse. It cannot offer any insight into the dynamics of change in sexual behav- The Continuity of Patriarchy 267 iour in post-socialist societies but data suggest that there are few grounds to speak about patterns of post-socialist adolescent sexuality in the sense that post-socialist adolescents experienced sexual initiation in a similar way. There is also no systematic difference to some western countries such as Germany or Austria. This also concerns the gendered difference (men were more satisfied than women were). In addition, the usefulness of the delayed modernity hypothesis (concerning first sexual intercourse) has to be questioned after the survey. It seems that the normative and interactional context shaping sexual behaviour is obviously uncoupled from other socio-political spheres (Bernik & Hlebec 2005, 299-312). In the 1990s, the age of sexual debut among male Bulgarian students was 14 (more than 19%) and 19 for female students (17%); the last rate seems to be surprisingly high, but it was the same with Greek women, who, according to a study conducted in 2000, started sexual life also at the age of 19 and men at 17 (Halkias 2004, 40). Only 7% of Bulgarian couples used a contraceptive method at that time. Another study in the early 1990s revealed that 61% of girls deliv- ering out-of-wedlock children had become pregnant by their first partner. The acceptance of premarital sex was seen normal by 80% of boys and only by 42% of girls. A six-year study conducted 1988-93 among 1,088 pregnant girls between 13 and 16 years of age showed that 625 had deliveries while 463 chose abortion. The Bulgarian young women were twice more likely to choose abortion than the ethnic (Turks, Gypsies) women, who, in line with their traditions, generally preferred to keep them. Thirty-three per cent of the sample had been raped (Vassilev 1999, 88). The “Annual Report for Youth of the Republic of Bulgaria for 2005” reveals: “Compared to the European standards, the Bulgarians demonstrate low sexual and contraceptive culture related to the usage of low effective traditional methods of contraception and the increased number of abortions. The last data show that there have been 70,433 childbirths and 47,233 abortions for one year… The students in the age group 15-18 feel still freer – they consider marriage as temporary living together. Fifty-one per cent of the boys think that marriage is for a lifetime, while only 45.2% of girls share this opinion. Marriage as a permanent institution is not very much supported by the young people. Almost half of them do not adopt the concept that marriage is for a lifetime. One fourth of the secondary school students think that marriage is an anachronism. At the same time we have to recognize that there is strive for binding love and sex: 61.8% of the researched up to 18 years old young people think that love is at the root of sexual relations.”(http://www.icnyp.net/www/files/GDoklad 2005 MS_eng.doc) In socialist times, sexuality had not been part of the public discourse. Consid- ered vulgar, sexuality was at best an “absent practice”. Despite an explosion of pornography in post-Ceauúescu Romania, intimate and open discussion of sexuality remains relatively taboo at home and elsewhere. Many adolescents are 268 Patriarchy after Patriarchy not in dialogue with their mothers about sexuality because of embarrassment, prudery, or fear of being punished. A survey conducted in 1993 among 16-25 year olds affirmed an almost total absence of communication between parents and children on sexual themes. Thirty-six per cent reported to have obtained information about sexuality from magazines and journals, 24% from friends, and 11% from books. Fifty-nine per cent considered themselves ignorant or superficially knowledgeable about sexuality; however, the Ministry of Educa- tion hesitated to introduce sex-education into the high-school curriculum. Con- temporary adult women were raised with traditional values regarding virginal “purity”. Premarital sexuality was usually thought to be immoral or a sin a- gainst God. Parental attitudes regarding premarital sexuality differ for sons and for daughters. The strength of tradition dictates that women abstain from sex before marriage. Of 1,641 adolescents between the ages of 15 and 19 surveyed in the 1993 Reproductive Health Survey, 84% reported that they never had sexual intercourse. Sixty-three per cent of a sample of 4,858 women declared that a woman should be a virgin when she marries. According to the survey, the average age of first intercourse for all Romanian women was 20.2 years – only 2.4 months lower than the average age of marriage (Băban 2000, 239pp.). In the 1993 survey of 1,595 women aged 15-24 years, 58% reported that they had never sexual intercourse: 83% between 15 and 19 years and 30% between 20 and 24 years. Thirty-seven per cent with sexual intercourse had it before the age of 18, 34% between 18 and 19 years, and 29% between 20 and 24 years at age. Romania’s National Survey of 1996 comprising 2,025 women and 2,047 men at the age of 15 to 24 years revealed that about 39% of the unmarried women and 35% of the unmarried men interviewed were using any method of contraception. The majority relied on traditional methods such as withdrawal (Băban 1999, 219p.). A survey of the Belgrade daily newspaper “Politika” in 2000 revealed that parents and school did usually not provide sexual education. Sex life was taboo; 29% of the most sexually active population learned about sex from a sex partner, then from pornographic magazines, movies, and television (24%), which is twice as much as the number who learned about sex at school and in the family. A survey in 1997 researching risky behaviour revealed that among young people, the traditional patriarchal pattern of upbringing, including a widely accepted pattern of “machismo”, remained a strong influence on sexual education and behaviour. Other research shows that, even nowadays, patriarchal traditions determine the behaviour of young people (Nikoliü 2005, 138, 140). These patriarchal traditions are also reflected in the sexual behaviour of young Serbs and Montenegrins. A survey conducted in 2000 reveals that in Serbia, only about one third of the young women (third year at University) used contraceptive methods at first sexual contact. The most important reason for not using any was their trust in their partner. Of them, 54.3% are also practicing coitus interruptus after first sexual intercourse. They mention that their partners have strong aversion to condoms because they fear reduced sexual satisfaction (Sed- The Continuity of Patriarchy 269 lecki 2001, 93, 96, 107). Fifty-eight per cent of 1,000 interviewed Montenegrin women between 20 and 39 years at age stated in 2001 that they or their partner did not take any protection measure at first sexual intercourse. Among those who took measures, 50.1% chose coitus interruptus (Raševiü 2001, 73p.). At the point in time when the survey was conducted, 46% of the women stated that they or their partner did not use any contraceptive method. Of those who undertook measures, 31.1% preferred coitus interruptus. The Pill (6.3%) and the condom (15.8%) are not popular. The preference for coitus interruptus did lead to the least quarrels between the partners (Ibid. 76-79). An interesting value-survey, with 560 questionnaires returned, was conducted among students at the Sofia and Plovdiv Universities, Bulgaria, in 1999. The students turned out to be very pragmatic. For male and female students, career was the most important factor for the future. The second most important factor was family; money and welfare was the third most important factor, followed by political engagement. The least of five most important factors was emigration. Women were much more concerned with future career than men were. Since the 1970s, there had been a predominance of women in higher education, and in this sector, there is no backlash visible, at least in the case of young women. However, highly educated women were not necessarily successful professionally. Women did not emphasize family more than men did. When young women talked about their plans, there was little sign of nostalgia for traditional family values. A striking aspect seems to be young Bulgarian women’s preferences for a foreign husband. Female students were much more achievement-motivated than male students were. At this stage of life, they were concerned about structuring their lives according to their own individual preferences with both a career and a family, but also had dreams of travelling and exploring other countries. Male students had relatively traditional attitudes towards male and female roles within the family and society. Young women seemed to be progressive and modern in this relation (Ådnanes 2000, 29-37). Also interesting is a study, which aimed at examining the masculinity and femininity scales of the Bem Sex Role Inventory (BSRI)2 among Turkish university students at the beginning of the 21st century. Women scored, of course, higher on the femininity scale and men higher on the masculinity scale. Gender stereotypes referred to “the beliefs people hold about members of the categories man or woman.” Many social psychological studies have shown that these gender stereotypes vary among different cultures and ethnic groups. The results of the study conducted among the Turkish male and female students supported the original BSRI masculinity-femininity structure. Among Turkish university students, an ideal man is expected to stay calm in troublesome situations without showing his aggressive urges. Turkish men are expected to be self-

2 The Bem Sex Role Inventory (BSRI) provides independent assessments of masculinity and femininity in terms of the respondent’s self-reported possession of socially desirable, stereotypi- cally masculine and feminine personality characteristics. 270 Patriarchy after Patriarchy sacrificing and able to control their feelings in a difficult situation. Aggressive- ness is still undesirable for both sexes, and open displays of anger, toward the parents or other authority figures, such as teachers, are not tolerated. Some characteristics, which were earlier reported desirable for both sexes (affection, sympathy, and sensibility to the needs of others), were considered feminine characteristics in the study. One of the most striking findings was that some instrumental characteristics (i.e., independence, assertiveness, strong personality, leadership abilities, will to take risks, dominance, self-sufficiency, defence of own beliefs) were now desirable for both men and women. This result might reflect a changing socialization process and a change in values. In the past, a woman’s social status derived from her husband, number of children, and old age. Nowadays, success outside the home seems to be an important source of social status (Özkan & Lajunen 2005, 103-109). In Moldova, gender roles, on the one hand, still include strong patriarchal stereotypes about the traditional roles of men and women; on the other hand, especially in urban and young families, the image of the father as patriarch is changing as more young fathers wish to be present for childrearing, education, and to help with household work. A recent study indicated that the majority (68%) of respondents from rural areas favour traditional gender roles. Most of the women considered household work to be similar to paid work (84% of the 16-20 year old women, 76% of the women 30 years and older). Dishwashing was performed by 40% of the men, cooking by 35%, and education of children by 45%. Youth have a modern perspective on masculinity and femininity, indicating a tendency towards gender equality in social life as well as in family relationships (Bodrug-Lungu 2004, 178p.). In daring generalizations on the basis of available data we can conclude that little change in sexual relations and little more in gender values has taken place. The sexual debut of young men and women reveals a significant genderized age difference. A minority of young men start at about the age of 14, a minority of young women at about the age of 18-19 with the option of marrying the first man; between the female average age at sexual debut and the average age at marriage lie only a few months. For young women, premarital sexual intercourse is therefore related to the option of marriage (which is not the case with premarital sex of young men), which expresses also the high value of female virginity. Modern contraception among young men and women is lowly developed; they have low knowledge of sexual matters and consider coitus interruptus still a serious method of fertility control. Therefore, sexual intercourse frequently ends up in abortion. Sexuality is still a societal taboo; young men and women do not learn about it in the course of formal or familial education. Basi- cally, sexual behaviour of the young generation has been de-linked neither from traditional patriarchy nor from the values of the socialist period. Youth is not going down a revolutionary new path. The Continuity of Patriarchy 271

This can also be said with some hesitation about the value system of the young generation. The tendency of contracting marriage is explicit, but young people do no longer consider marriage and family as a lifetime project. The young generation is very pragmatic; students intent to make primarily a professional career (women more expressed than men) and want to integrate it into family planning. Nostalgia for traditional family values is not very often expressed. Remarkable is the dynamic character of young women compared to men. Like in Western Europe in the second half of the 20th century, young women are beginning to question their traditional gender role (they want to make a career and seek success outside traditional socialization), whereas young men tend to keep traditional gender roles because they (justifiably) fear of becoming losers in the gender quarrel. The picture we get is not homogenous. Young women seem to be conservative in sexual relations but progressive on the value level; young men foster loose sexual relations but are conservative regarding gender relations. Women tend to preserve virginity until marriage; men do not. Neither are there substantial indicators of a SFT on the horizon, nor a sexual or gender revolution; on the contrary, the balance tends to conservativism, to keeping the patriarchal “standard” intact, and to finding a comfortable place in it.

Conclusions

The anthropologist Jack Goody is one of the most influential historical anthropologists putting family, kinship, and gender relations into the foreground of research. He recognizes a common Eurasian heritage that allegedly originated in the Bronze Age, as having been distributed over the whole Eurasian continent afterwards: after the Neolithic Revolution, most of the populations became settled and farmed under diverse climatic and geographic conditions. Owner- ship of soil, herds, and other goods became crucial – and so did the passing over of property to the next generations by having security at old age in mind. Although his hypothesis includes the prevalence of similar gender relations on the double continent, it suggests the notion that fathers and mothers were ob- sessed by the idea of providing men and women, sons and daughters, with portions of soil, herds, and other goods in the one or other form – in sharp contrast to, for instance, the sub-Saharan African continent. Goody’s approach, which focuses on “the major societies of Eurasia” and derives his conclusions from the observation of socioeconomic upper- and middle-strata ignores, however, the practises of the mass of population and the large spaces in between, where also people lived, organized their modes of survival, and their generational arrangements. One of these “spaces in between” is the region called “Eurasia Minor” in this book. It constitutes a micro-segment of Eurasia. The peoples living here in the course of history, however, do not belong to “the major societies of Eurasia”, and the region does not fit to Goody’s observations on an imagined or actual common heritage of gender relations since the Bronze Age. The region under investigation stretches about 800,000 km2 to the west and to the east of the Bosporus into regions usually called Balkans (Southeast Europe) and Anatolia (Asia Minor). Currently, about 140 million people are living in this area, about 70 million to the east and 70 million to the west of the Bosporus. Eurasia Minor in respect to social relations constitutes a historical region because of the specific intersection of two relevant historical developments: (1) Eurasia Minor’s peoples “originally” shared the same kinship system, which is reflected in an almost identical kinship terminology. This kinship system had been shaping the relations between men and women, men and men as well as women and women, which were deeply patriarchally rooted and which still cast their shadows on current societies. It was based upon genealogical, generational, and age distance. Patrilineality, patrilocality, and the segregation of men and women were additional key principles upon which Asia Minor’s society rested over centuries, and which resulted in specific social relations. They left deep imprints until present times and speak against Goody’s hypothesis of a joint Eurasian heritage, because women were imprisoned behind bars of rigid inequality. 274 Patriarchy after Patriarchy

(2) From about 1500 to about 1900, depending on the respective territory, the Ottoman Empire controlled Anatolia and the Balkans both politically and culturally. The Ottoman system of rule is here described as tributary. This tributary system was based on the idea of collecting and increasing revenues by territorial expansion instead of intensifying the collection of tributes and revenues by optimizing the agrarian system. Extension instead of intensification included administration density on a comparatively low level. One of the consequences was that gender relations remained in the track of the inherited pre- Ottoman tradition. The Empire remained under-administrated until the course of the 19th century when the central authorities were forced to “westernize” in order to keep the state upright. Ottoman legacy consisted of the non- intervention into patriarchal social relations. Few relatively gender-symmetric enclaves appeared already in pre-industrial times, where commerce and capitalism developed and women became increasingly valued; this was the case in “mega-cities” such as Istanbul or Athens in the 19th and 20th century. In regions, where these two components did not intersect, gender relations developed differently. In the Arabic world, for centuries also part of the tributary Ottoman system, for instance marriage endogamy (instead of patrilineal exogamy) with the preference of bint ’amm-(parallel cousin) marriage has been kept intact. In the Mediterranean world, apart from Ottoman dominance, the Roman legacy of rather equal gender relations – also focussed on relative gender equality in inheritance and in marital arrangements – was continued. In Western and Central Europe, the Frankish and Carolingian Empires established interventionist agrarian regimes, which, in the long run, also tended towards gender equality. The first chapter reveals the regional specifics of Eurasia Minor’s patriarchy in the era of the agrarian society (until the middle of the 20th century). The second chapter documents how patriarchy declined. Ideological sources of massive critique of patriarchy were socialism and Kemalism. Both ended up with gender equality introduced top-down, which was not grounded in genuine women’s movements. Ironically or symptomatically, gender equality found its legal basis, after the Soviet Union first in one of the most patriarchal Eurasian societies – in Eurasia Minor. However, it resulted in elitism. Gender equality remained a bourgeois (socialist bourgeois) project. The majority of the population could not become included. The two major differences to Western Euro- pean developments consist in the comparatively early formal abolishment of Eurasia Minor’s patriarchy and the considerable lack of its practical realization in the region. I think, because of this elitist approach, three important social forces overlap in a more conflicting manner in Eurasia Minor than in Western Europe: those of tradition, those of ways into modernity, and those of emerging globalization. They do not constitute clear-cut periodical sequences but can overlap in the biography of a single person or in a sequence of grandparents- parents-grandchildren. It is this overlap of drastic changes which, among others, keeps features of traditional patriarchy alive and confront them now with, Conclusions 275 for example, the process of gender mainstreaming. A confrontation of this kind creates confusion and objection against gender equality in the rows of men as well as of women. In addition, as long as neo-liberal market mechanisms provide men with incomes two or three times higher than women’s incomes, hardly anything will change men-dominated gender relations. Therefore, elements of traditional patriarchy are here more pronounced than in the West. This has been analyzed in detail in the third chapter, which documents that, although processes of convergences and amalgamations have taken place, differences between East and West, the West and Eurasia Minor are also clearly visible.

Convergences, Amalgamations, and Differences

It seems to be common understanding that over the previous half millennium, European societies have become increasingly similar in general and as far as family relations are specifically concerned because they have been exposed to similar structural forces: industrialism, urbanism, intensive educational training, stipulation of legal equality of men and women. These general developments affected family forms and marriage patterns as well as the power relations within the family: (1) The 20th century and the beginning of the 21st century were characterized by convergences in the ways in which families are formed, transformed, and divided, and in the relations between family members and more distant kin. The century saw a clear tendency in household composition towards simpler forms; multiple household constellations have become exceptional. The enormous European differences in the proportion of newlyweds who went to live with the groom’s family largely disappeared, although clear traces of the traditional pattern were to be observed until about the middle of the century. The nuclear family became almost universal; the average household size was reduced (Kertzer & Barbagli 2003, XXXIX). (2) The convergence of marriage patterns was less dramatic and less unilineal. In the first six decades of the 20th century, the proportion of people remaining unmarried declined and their age at marriage decreased in the West. In Eastern Europe and Eurasia Minor, opposing trends emerged. The universality of marriage began to become questioned and the age at marriage increased slightly. In the three decades after the 1960s, the differences again become more pronounced. In Western Europe, from the mid 1960s, the proportion of people postponing marriage or not wanting to marry at all increased. In various socialist Eastern European and Eurasia Minor countries, in contrast, those decades witnessed the rate of marriage beginning to rise again, and the age at marriage declined again (Ibid.). (3) Additional convergent processes have to be recognized with respect to the domestic division of labour and the distribution of power within the household, 276 Patriarchy after Patriarchy between wives and husbands, parents and children, family law, with respect to the norms governing marriage, inheritance norms, divorce, and the status of children, who had previously been considered illegitimate (Ibid. XXXIX- XLII). The big question is, whether or not the history of family and gender relations ends at the point of convergence, regardless of divergent historical tracks. Ana- lyzed from an evolutionistic modernization-theory, family and gender relations will end up in a big melting pot whose mass will be amalgamated by structural forces of capitalism and neo-liberalism, as well as legal norms. The liquids, however, have different consistency; the western ones are much stronger than the non-western. The prognosis of the modernization theoreticians, therefore, is that convergence means the melting-in of non-western models into the western model. One of the sins of the modernization theoreticians, however, is their assumption that people, groups and individuals alike, are helplessly exposed to structural forces. If we consider only the pure demographic data without their different social and cultural contexts, convergence means westernization, indeed. What kind are these contextual differences? The most obvious difference between western and non-western states and nations is their economic situation. While in the west, the discussion about how to distribute wealth dominates, the discussion in Eurasia Minor is how to deal with poverty. Western countries for example, are able to stimulate sentiments of kinship by grandiose support of citizens in post-active age, when it comes to the necessity of care taking. The countries of Eurasia Minor have nothing other to distribute than meagre pensions, which cannot stimulate their care by kin. Nevertheless, the percentage of people in Eurasia Minor countries in institutionalized care is negligible. Self- sacrificing support with low expectation of compensation is therefore needed. This kind of support is commonly regarded as women’s duty. This exemplifies the contextual problem. The semi-tributary state – a formally modern state without effective institutions – has to delegate more duties to its citizens than the modern welfare state, which is able to direct gender relations through financial attractions. Women in Eurasia Minor countries accomplish incredible tasks without any appearance on the official labour market. It is without any relevance whether or not they live formally in a nuclear or other form of household. Or take fertility. Fertility in most of the European countries is on a low level, which does not sustain population replacement. But how are these low fertility rates achieved? In Western European countries, mostly through contraception, in Eurasia Minor’s countries mainly through abortion. Setting the question of the morality of abortion aside, one has to ask why. All relevant research on this issue leads to male-dominated sexual relations, which are per se gender relations. The method of coitus interruptus delegates reproduction- power to men. Women – married or non-married – are not exempt and are active agents in producing the sexual partner’s power by submitting themselves to their “protection” skills. The same applies to the SDT theory. This alleged Conclusions 277 transition, is, assuming the theory holds true, in full swing in the Western hemi- sphere but hardly visible in Eurasia Minor. Every percentage of demographic behaviour that indicates “convergence” to the West is interpreted as the onset of glorified “western” behaviour, although whether or not this tendency will be a sustainable phenomenon is far from being clear. Several faint tendencies such as increasing age at first marriage, premarital cohabitation, extra-marital birth, postponement of fertility and fertility decline are already measurable, but the distance to Western Europe is considerable. This issue transgresses the West- East-dichotomy, since a country such as Greece is in high accordance with post-socialist societies, although it is economically much better off. Considered through this contextual looking glass, the assumption of a homogenous European block constructed by invisible demographic forces becomes questionable. Neither “the West” nor the Eurasia Minor societies are homogenous. Between the neighbouring countries of Bulgaria and Turkey for instance, significant differences exist in relation to gender equality and demographic performance. Bulgaria is the best ranked Eurasia Minor country in the Gender- related Development Index (rank 44 in 2004), the country with the highest presence of women in Parliament (22.1% compared to Austria with 32.2%), the lowest fertility rate (1.2 in 2005), the highest proportion of extra-marital births (about 49% in 2005), a comparatively high divorce rate (19.6% in 2005) and a high proportion of cohabitation with 13-15% of the population, whereas the average in the region is under 4%. If we take only the pure demographic data, Bulgaria is the most “western” country of the region. Turkey in this respect is not surprisingly the less “western” country ranked 71 in the Gender-related Development Index, with a low level of women in labour force (26.5% in 2006), about two thirds of marriages arranged, 1% of women never married, only 4.4% of women members of Parliament, and a fertility rate of 2.5 (2005). Or take Moldova: 31.6% of its population consider marriage as an outdated institution, but 93.7% of the population lives in families. The country occupies the region’s worst place (85) in the Gender-related Development Index with a reported proportion of 82% of domestic violence. This is why we have to take into account multiple transitions from agrarian to industrialized society and from socialist to post-socialist society. Therefore, this process of amalgamation cannot be considered a unilineal evolution, which will finally end up in a one- way road of Eastern European and Eurasian Minor family and gender relations into the Western European highway, as the protagonists of modernization theory do not cease to predict.

Patriarchal backlash as temporary phenomenon

Eurasia Minor’s patriarchal backlash is not so much expressed in the private sphere. One reason is that elements of traditional private patriarchy were never 278 Patriarchy after Patriarchy eliminated and survived socialism. The other reason is that the objects of patriarchy are vanishing. Decreasing numbers of children and decreasing household sizes, as well as an increase of autonomous marriage decision is removing the ground under patriarchy’s feet. There is hardly anything left to be controlled by patriarchs; theoretically a wife, one or two children and, probably, a dog or a cat. But even this remainder of potential patriarchal control is more difficult to handle. Wives increasingly seek a divorce (although still in a moderate number), and children are increasingly able to withdraw from the father’s control, although the difficult economic situation does not encourage such a step. If we synchronize all data and indications found, we can only come to one conclusion. The second half of the 20th century was characterized by a sharp decline of patriarchally shaped relations between men and women, between fathers and children in Western Europe. This was expressed in some regions or countries to a lesser or stronger degree, of course. Legislation and industrialization brought clear progress to women; men lost their traditional patriarchal position. The countries of Eurasia Minor were not exempt from this general development, in both Turkey and the Balkans. In cases, feminism and gender equality, state patriarchy and state feminism were introduced top-down and were therefore hardly efficient. Private patriarchy remained almost unquestioned. “Progress” ordered from above usually provokes reactions in the form of resistance – by men and women. Resistance expressed by men is obvious; resistance from the women’s side is not thus clear: they won and lost at the same time. They won autonomy in respect to their relationship to men and husbands; many of them won economic independence; educational standards are, except for Turkey, generally the same for women and men. The crumbling of state patriarchy (except in former Yugoslavia) and state feminism in Turkey by the end of the 1980s, however, paved the way for a reorganization of gender relations. A kind of patriarchal backlash was the consequence in all of Eurasia Minor countries, except for Greece, where the situation remained stable. This patriarchal backlash has three causes: (1) The consequences of the Yugoslav wars for society in Serbia, Montenegro, Bosnia-Herzegovina, and Kosovo/Kosova; (2) Re-Islamization in Turkey with its spillover effect to the Muslim communities in the Balkans; (3) Re-traditionalism in the post-socialist Balkan countries where a considerable part of the population tends to eliminate the socialist period metaphori- cally and practically by reference to pre-socialist times. The overall background is the character of the state, which, in the case of Tur- key and Greece, has been semi-tributary and in the case of the post-socialist states regressed from interventionist to semi-tributary after 1989. The weak states of Eurasia Minor are already used to personalized relations or are experiencing a re-personalization of social relations in the post-socialist era. More Conclusions 279 than half of a century after declaring the end of patriarchy and the establishment of gender equality, patriarchy found channels as well as rest stations of survival and recreation. Summa summarum, developments on the political macro level (wars, end of socialism, re-Islamization) led to a kind of patriarchal backlash which is fed by elements of traditional patriarchy and elements derived from the constraints of male dominance in a globalizing society. Public patriarchy has been much more pronouncedly restored than private patriarchy. The spatial separation of men and women, of public and private, of wage labour and unpaid housework, has been one of the core methods in keeping the patriarchal structures intact. In pre-industrial times, it was exclusively men who represented the public order, established village councils, took part at an elder’s assembly, were actors in and object of blood feuds, and in the administration of customary law. This asymmetric spatial separation of men and women is therefore part of the canon of traditional patriarchy. The establishment of male democracies was therefore extremely successful after the abdica- tion of state feminism. Male democracies have been also an astonishing successful project in Greece and Turkey. Women think they can do political business as well as men but are hardly interested in entering the political arena – partly because the arena is already fully occupied by men and nobody expects that they will change the ticket, partly because they think they could do more efficient work in other positions. Anyway, the political administrations of Eu- rasia Minor countries have been passed over to men. Another facet is private patriarchy, the increasing popularity of the male breadwinner and household head, which economically controls his wife and also his children. Data suggest that physical and psychological violence is widespread in the region and the idea of the obedient wife finds support also a- mong women. The interesting thing is that these data underline a conservative stand of the region in gender relations, which is fed by traditional patriarchal sources: self-fulfilment as a housewife is not surprisingly highly rated in Tur- key, whereas post-socialist and Greek society do not clearly agree; the concepts of living with parents, importance of the family, and abortion are highly appreciated, whereas marriage as an outdated institution, living together as an unmarried couple, and women with children living in a single household has little support in the region. The main thesis of this book is “patriarchy after patriarchy”. After six or seven decades of the official abolishment of patriarchy in the region, it is still present or even more pronounced than it was shortly after this declaration. Predomi- nantly men, but also a good proportion of women, are ambitious to re-establish social relations as they were in the “good old times” (before socialism) or are in line with traditional or modern Islam, or are coined by recent wars. All we know about the young generation is that the issue of gender equality has no priority in their catalogues of values. Young women represent a dynamic element, which, however, is rather pragmatic and career-oriented. Patriarchy after 280 Patriarchy after Patriarchy patriarchy is reality, but reality is also that there is no way back in the sense of a re-instalment of gender relations, which have been described as the “traditional” patriarchal system in this book. This new patriarchy consists, however, of single elements of traditional patriarchy such as men’s domination in decision-making, domestic violence, arranged and enforced marriages (especially in Turkey), the almost universality of marriage and low frequency of cohabitation, high esteem of virginity, preference of coitus interruptus in sexual intercourse, scarce male participation in housework, and deprivation of women’s inheritance portions (Bulgaria constitutes an exception in many regards). These elements amalgamated with modern elements of public patriarchy such as male-dominated democracies, male-dominated invisible networks substituting weak formal institutions, and male-dominated labour markets. This mixture of traditional private patriarchy and modern public patriarchy was basically already present in the socialist era but became more explosive when transition began. The emergence of neo-patriarchy constitutes a heavy blow to women’s interests. The historical process of gender relations towards more equality cannot be completely reversed but only slowed down or interrupted for a period of time. There are at least two indicators that speak for this optimistic outlook. Under the supervision of the EU, many laws have been passed in recent years that aim at a rebalancing of gender relations. It will take years to put these laws and commitments into effect in everyday life. After their de-facto elimination by Kemalism and socialism, women’s movements gained ground again. Although still weak and fragmented, they will doubtlessly become stronger and more effective. They will fight for the implementation of abstract legal provisions and, thus, contribute to the establishment of civil society, which is desperately lacking in the region. Gender relations in Eurasia have been changing rapidly in the course of the 20th century; decline of patriarchy has been taking place, but not everywhere at the same pace. The Eurasian core of the Ottoman Empire had its natural borders in the Dinaric Mountains in the West, the Caucasus in the Northeast and the Ana- tolian highland in the East and Southeast. These were regions never fully integrated into the state structures. The state remained very weak in peripheral regions like these. Patriarchy, therefore, remained strong in these peripheral regions, which also could not become fully integrated by the successor states of the Empire. Another case is the Muslim population in the Balkans. For many of them, enthusiasm for the respective country decreased after the emergence of the successor states established as a consequence of the collapse of the Otto- man Empire. In Bosnia-Herzegovina and Albania, Muslims constitute the majority of the population and therefore their integration into their states is not a problem at all. This is in contrast to Serbia, Greece, Macedonia, and Bulgaria, where pockets of Muslim minority populations are not smoothly integrated. The lack of integration resulted in conservativism in family and gender relations. This problem is even more pronounced with regard to the Roma popula- Conclusions 281 tions, which are present in whole Eurasia Minor in comparatively high proportions. Patriarchy, therefore, can be regionalized: the Western Balkans as well as Eastern and Southeastern Anatolia constituted and still constitute the core regions of patriarchy. In addition, the Muslim populations in Southern Bulgaria, Northern Greece, Southern Serbia, and Western Macedonia, but also the scattered Roma populations belong to this core. Urban centres have functioned as stimulators of women’s rights. Increasing rural-urban migration, with its peak from the 1950s to the 1970s, however, made it increasingly difficult to keep this function intact because via migration, traditional rural-based patriarchy began to occupy also the urban space. Patriarchy after patriarchy is considered here a temporary phenomenon. Neo- patriarchy is by a long way not homogenous. Differentiation between the countries of Asia Minor is appropriate as well as differentiation within its countries and social strata. The overall reason for the patriarchal backlash in Asia Mi- nor’s societies is the strong emphasis on personalized relations. It is difficult to predict how long this situation will last. The most important point, however, is the expected transformation of semi-tributary states into interventionist ones. Interventionist institutions can become societal brokers, which intermediate between formally guaranteed gender equality and the harsh patriarchal social reality.

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Kleine Zeitung 24.10.2006, p. 10.

Der Standard 18.03.2006, p. B4

Index

Abkhazia 53 188, 209p., 245 Abortion 31, 103, 107pp., 130-143, 150, Atatürk 23, 84, 98, 151p., 230 163, 185, 187, 225, 247, 251-259, Athens 23, 75, 81, 98, 100, 184, 274 264, 267, 270, 276, 279 Azerbaijan 18p., 194p., 210, 221, 236, 251, Abuse 127, 130, 223-226, 235p. 256p., 264 Adat 91 Adoption 64, 77, 111, 148, 179, 184, 251 Baptism 37, 41, 51p., 55 Adultery 33, 223 Bacanak 201 Aegean 12, 15, 29, 63, 72p., 82, 100 Balkan Wars 14, 96p., 101 Affines 44, 46, 51 Belgrade 22, 100p., 121, 124, 157, 160, Africa 10-13, 35, 60, 108, 209, 245, 273 168, 228, 232, 238, 245 Agha 89 Berdel 263 Agnates 50, 73 Bilateral kindred 38, 46 Agriculture 22, 87, 89, 100, 119, 121, 124, Bint ‘amm 43, 274 126, 129, 146, 163, 173p., 194, Birth rate 103pp., 131-138, 163, 166, 247, 216 250, 253p., 258 AIDS 134 Black Sea 12, 45, 66p., 80, 96p., 100, 123, Aile 24, 68, 112p. 263 Akraba 200 Blood feud 28, 51, 206p., 279 Albania 14, 17pp., 29, 46p., 50, 61, 64, 67, Blood revenge 128 82, 84, 86, 92, 95, 98, 101, 103- Body 117, 143, 185, 229, 259 108, 120p., 128, 131, 133, 135p., 145-148, 156, 169, 171p., 177p., Bosnia-Herzegovina 14, 17p., 60, 92, 97, 185, 195, 206p., 210pp., 215, 101, 138, 210, 217p., 221, 224, 217p., 221, 223p., 228-231, 233, 228, 232, 237, 253, 257, 260, 239, 244, 248p., 252, 256pp., 266, 278, 280 260p., 266, 280 Breadwinner 31, 109, 119, 123, 188, 194, Alevi 54, 233 225, 241, 250, 266, 279 Anatolia 9-12, 14, 16p., 19p., 23p., 29, 39, Bride-price 66, 83, 235, 241, 261, 263, 266 47, 49p., 61, 63p., 66pp., 71, Bride wealth 263 73p., 76, 79, 84, 86, 89p., 97-101, 108, 113, 123, 128, 155, 175, Brotherhood 53pp. 202, 207, 250, 261, 263, 273p., Bulgaria 14p., 18-22, 31, 42, 49, 54, 60, 64, 280p. 68, 83, 86, 92, 95, 97p., 100p., Ancestor 27, 36, 38p., 43, 49pp., 54, 71, 103p., 106-109, 119-121, 125p., 75, 85, 88pp., 96, 99, 144 130-137, 146p., 156p., 162, 164p., 167, 169, 171, 175, 180, Armenians 16p., 53, 61, 68, 97, 111, 194 185p., 189, 192p., 195-198, 201, Arranged marriage 23, 34, 77, 235, 241, 203, 210p., 213, 215, 217-221, 249, 262, 266 225, 228, 232, 246-261, 265p., 268p., 277, 280p. Asia 11, 13, 15, 24, 28, 34p., 38pp., 43, 60, 93, 97, 101, 114p., 129, 151, 167, 318 Patriarchy after Patriarchy

Cardiovascular disease 106 Division of labour 10, 33, 91, 95, 174, 211p., 236, 277 Caucasia 16, 18p., 29, 53, 65, 80, 99, 194, 205, 221, 256 Divorce 29, 34p., 65p., 78, 83p., 115, 128, 130, 133, 142, 150, 155, 163p., Caucasus 11, 28, 47, 53p., 61, 63, 88, 97, 181, 183, 185, 187, 192, 196, 101, 115, 150p., 194, 206, 210, 223, 225pp., 240, 243, 245-248, 236, 245, 257, 264, 266, 280 261, 263p., 276pp. Ceauúescu 131, 134, 142p., 267 Diyarbakır 207, 218 Celibacy 83, 129 Domestic violence 223-227, 235, 277, 280 Central Asia 13, 24, 97, 101, 115, 151, 209, Dowry 39, 63pp., 73, 76, 78, 81p., 147, 245 155, 183, 226, 263 Central Europe 10, 12, 16, 38, 42, 57, 114, 118, 129, 175, 239, 274 Eastern Turkey 23, 49, 54, 66, 197, 225 Chechens 99 Education 25, 54, 62, 83, 87, 91pp., 96, Circassians 16, 53, 65, 81, 97 112, 127p., 134, 136, 139, 145- Christianity 41p., 47, 89, 214 152, 154pp., 157p., 163pp., 167, Çiftlik 73 174, 177, 180, 183, 185p., 192, 194, 194, 198, 214p., 217p., Circumcision 54 223pp., 231, 234, 236, 242, Civil Code 28p., 35, 74, 111p., 115, 128, 247p., 250p., 254p., 262, 268pp., 148, 157, 224 275, 278 Civil marriage 150, 155p., 163p., 264 Elder brother 33, 43pp., 171, 236 Civil society 191, 204p., 236, 280 Elder sister 44p. Clientelism 54, 203p. Endogamy 55, 78, 88, 240, 274 Closedness 36, 85pp., 89, 98 Endowment 39p., 81 Cohabitation 130, 226, 243-248, 250, 265, Exogamy 36, 48, 55, 88, 274 277, 280 Extended family 80, 98, 143p., 174, 180, Coitus interruptus 107, 109, 136pp., 141, 182, 184, 235p. 255p., 258p., 268pp., 276, 280 Extramarital birth 246p., 265 Collectivization 115, 125, 131, 163, 169- 172, 176, 203 Family planning 31, 83, 105, 131, 136, Concubinage 80, 115 139pp., 233, 247, 250pp., 255pp., Condom 136-139, 252, 255, 268p. 258, 271 Contraception 23, 103, 105, 107p., 133, Family structure 20, 31, 42, 57, 66, 142, 136, 138p., 243p., 250-253, 150, 175-180, 192 255p., 259, 267p., 270, 276 Femininity 23, 269p. Cross-cousin marriage 55, 235 Feminism 31, 112p., 115, 141-154, 156, Customary law 26-30, 33, 37, 65, 86, 91, 185, 187, 191, 234, 278p. 101, 110, 127p., 154, 206, 224, Feminist movement 147, 151, 154, 187, 250, 279 235 Fertility control 84, 102, 108p., 117, Descent 11, 34, 37, 39p., 42p., 45pp. 49, 51 141pp., 250pp., 256, 258pp., 266, 55, 57p., 73, 81, 88, 145, 172 270 Descent ideology 42, 47, 57p. Fertility regulation 136, 139, 252 Index 319

First Demographic Transition (FDT) 17, 19 Household cycle 36, 57, 59, 66, 68p., 88, 36, 69, 71, 84, 90, 93p., 102-105, 175p. 107, 114, 128, 171, 189, 242pp., Household fission 69, 71, 120, 171 249p. Household formation 35, 65, 68, 79, 244 Forced marriage 145, 151, 226, 261, 263, 280 Household head 48, 67p., 74p., 79p., 87p., 119, 123, 170-173, 178, 213, 229, 250, 279 Gays 31, 223, 228p. Hymen 223, 230p. Gecekondu 123, 126, 179, 182p., 233 Gender equality 9, 12, 32, 35, 115p., 141p., Illiteracy 85, 91pp., 110, 147p., 150, 154, 145-148, 154, 158p. 175, 185 192, 218, 235 211, 213, 232p., 235, 237p., 248, 266, 270, 274p., 277pp., 281 Impartible inheritance 72p. Gender roles 75, 82, 142, 148, 183, 211, Individualization 32, 169, 176, 246 213p., 228, 244p., 247, 259, 266, Industrialization 30p., 93, 109-122, 125, 270p. 128, 131, 142, 159, 163, 166, Gender segregation 76, 214, 233 170p., 175, 184, 186, 196, 214, 243, 258, 278 Genealogical distance 9, 39, 55 Informal networks 204 Generational distance 9, 11, 39, 43 Inheritance 29, 33pp., 39, 43-46, 58p., 63, Georgia 18pp., 53, 81, 195, 221, 236, 256p. 65p., 68, 72-76, 81p., 91, 101, Globalization 31, 187p., 190, 274 114p., 120, 126p., 140, 144, 158, 163, 176p., 183, 185, 213, 236, Godfatherhood 55 274, 276, 280 Godparenthood 42, 51p., 54p., 161 Inner Asia 11, 15p., 28, 39p., 43 Greece 14, 18p., 31, 39, 45, 55, 57p., 60, Interventionist system 26pp., 57, 66, 117, 63, 81, 86, 92, 95, 97-100, 104, 140 106pp., 113-118, 120, 126, 138, 140, 145, 154p., 158p., 161p., Intrauterine devices (IUD) 133, 137pp., 167, 175p., 183p., 186p., 191, 252, 255p. 195, 203, 208pp., 215, 217p., Islamic law 28p., 34, 64, 73 221p., 233, 247pp., 256-261, 266, 277-281 Islamist movement 154, 214p., 238 Islamization 11, 53, 266 Hadith 139 Istanbul 23, 34, 44, 56, 75, 77-81, 83p., 92p., 95, 100p., 105, 111pp., Hakkari 49, 62, 65 122p., 139, 148, 153, 205, 227, Hane 68 235, 238, 250, 274 Headscarf 153, 234 Hermoupolis 82, 100 Jews 16p., 77p., 111 Heterosexuality 186 Judaism 47, 214 Histoire croisée 25p., 188 Homosexuality 167, 228p. Kanun 29, 224 Honour killing 207p. Kemalism 112, 148p., 152, 213, 274, 280 Household composition 69, 84, 196, 275 Kin by marriage 46 320 Patriarchy after Patriarchy

Kinship 10pp., 21pp., 30, 33, 35-60, 71, 78, Marriage pattern 34, 39, 43, 58p., 118, 129, 84p., 88, 98p., 110, 117, 119, 275 124, 127p., 142, 144, 150p., 172, Masculinity 23, 180, 190, 269p. 174, 179, 182, 187p., 191, 198- 201, 203, 230, 265, 273, 276 Mediterranean 11p., 35, 39-42, 45, 56p., 59, 66, 72, 79, 115, 129, 181, Kinship terminology 38, 40-46, 265, 273 183, 210, 221, 244, 257, 263, 274 Kivrelik 54 MENA 105, 194p., 216, 220 Koran 54, 139, 241 Middle East 10, 12p., 16, 24, 39p., 42, Kosovo/Kosova 22, 29, 90, 92, 95, 103p., 46p., 55, 59, 64, 76, 102, 105, 121p., 124, 138, 146,p., 169, 108, 112 171p., 175, 206p., 213, 217, 227, Millet 93 249, 253, 266, 278 Modernization Koumbaria 55 Mountainous societies 49, 85-88, 90 Kum 42 Multiple family-household 65pp., 71, 79, Kurds 39, 44, 47pp., 54, 62, 89, 99, 123, 82, 88, 169, 171, 179 175, 202, 206, 235, 238 Mykonos 104, 108

Labour force 62, 117, 128, 137, 142, 144- 147, 150p., 185, 194p., 211, 216, Natality 103, 247 254, 277 Neighbourhood 11, 67, 76, 124, 161, 182, Labour migration 23, 36, 61, 64, 67p., 72, 199p., 233 87, 93-96, 119, 175p., 187, 189, Neo-liberalism 187, 190, 276 238p., 242 Neolithic revolution 10, 117, 273 Lesbians 31, 223, 228, 232 Neolocality 47, 64, 72, 82p., 85, 173p. Levirate 37, 78, 88, 171 Nomadism 48 Life cycle 69 Northern Albania 46p., 64, 90, 128, 169, Life expectancy 106p., 181, 183, 193p., 171p., 206p., 229p. 194, 210 Northern Europe 130, 180 Life style 110 North-western Europe 35, 79, 116, 167 Literacy 91, 147, 149pp., 151, 194, 210, 217p. Nuclear family 58, 66, 68, 70p., 77, 80pp., 129p., 162, 165, 174, 176, 179, 181p., 184, 197, 275 Macedonia 14p., 18pp., 29, 61, 64, 90, 95, Nuptiality 131 97, 103, 121p., 125, 127, 138, 169, 171pp., 173, 175, 195, 206, 210, 215, 217p., 220p., 224p., Old age 67p., 70, 196p., 270, 273 228, 232, 236, 244, 248p., 257p., 260p., 264, 266, 280p. Openness 36, 85-91 Mahalle 49p., 90, 254 Ottoman women 34, 76, 81, 152 Mahr 263 Marital fertility 129, 131 Parallel-cousin marriage 43, 45p., 55, 274 Marriage age 264 Parental authority 115 Marriage contract 34, 64p., 78, 81 Partible inheritance 59, 72pp., 120 Index 321

Patchwork family 66, 181, 187 232, 247pp., 252, 256-261, 267p. Pater familias 144, 184 Russia 13, 28, 34p., 56, 81, 92, 96-99, 101, 103, 130 Patriarchal backlash 9, 31, 188, 208-215, 265p., 277-281 Patriarchal ideology 96, 168 Scandinavia 102, 115, 152, 159, 166, 243, 255 Patriarchal relations 31, 84p., 86, 89, 99, 118, 131, 142, 151, 159, 166, Second Demographic Transition (SDT) 32, 175, 186, 196 189, 238, 242-246, 248, 256, 276 Patriarchal values 140p., 145, 226 Self-fulfilment 243, 279 Patrilineage 39, 43, 47, 49pp., 71, 73, 96 Seniority 42, 58, 88, 185 Patrilineal descent group 46-51, 55, 58, 67, Serbia 11, 14p., 17-21, 49, 54p., 60, 62, 64, 75 71, 90, 92, 95, 98, 100, 103p., 120pp., 124p., 138, 157, 171p., Patrilineal kinship system 55 176, 189, 192, 195, 197p., 210p., Patrilocality 33, 35, 43, 63, 72, 75, 83, 173, 215, 219, 221, 224p., 232, 237, 185, 273 244pp., 248p., 253p., 257, Patron-client relationship 36p., 54, 57, 202- 259pp., 266, 268, 278, 280p. 205 Servants 37, 63, 76, 79p., 82, 100, 111 Periphery 29, 48, 87, 175, 202, 204-208 Sexual behaviour 166pp., 207, 256 266pp., Polygamy 33, 78, 80, 127, 264 270 Pomaks 60p., 69p., 87p., 99, 175 Sexual debut 267, 270 Population increase 17pp., 69, 71, 84, 91, Sexual intercourse 107, 167, 266-270, 280 94, 99p., 102pp., 120, 122, 124, Sexuality 32, 63, 102, 117, 148, 163p., 128, 141pp. 166pp., 186, 230, 251, 253, 206, Pregnancy 77, 81, 108, 132p., 137p., 140p., 267p., 270 164, 207, 225, 244, 246, 252pp., Sharia 34p, 76, 112 259p., 264 Single household 175, 249, 279 Premarital sex 231, 252p., 267p., 270 Slave trade 80p. Private patriarchy 31, 116, 118, 162, 186, Slaves 13, 80, 81, 110 188, 266, 277-280 Social network 36, 67, 159, 170, 179, 198, Public patriarchy 116pp., 141, 162, 186, 241 189, 209, 222, 236, 265, 279p. Social security 31, 65, 189, 194, 196-199, 204, 219 Rape 133, 155, 207, 223, 225, 231, 233, Socialist family 109, 118, 141, 143, 162- 235, 254, 263, 267 169, 185 Religious marriage 83, 261 Son-in-law 64, 78p., 84 Rhodopes 21, 49, 52, 60p., 64, 68p., 87, 94, Sororate 37, 171 119, 265 Soviet Union 97, 131, 133, 151, 163, 264, Roma 16, 193, 246, 252, 254 274 Romania 14p., 18p., 21, 31, 46, 60, 92, 95, Spiritual kinship 36p., 41, 46, 51-56, 58, 100, 103p., 106pp., 120p., 125, 199, 201 130-135, 141pp., 161, 169p., 185p., 189, 191, 193, 195pp., Stalin 115, 151, 188 210pp., 215-219, 221, 225, 228, State feminism 31, 141-162, 185, 187, 322 Patriarchy after Patriarchy

278p. State patriarchy 31, 141-145, 161, 184p., Van 12, 49, 207,225, 226 278 Veiling 31, 76, 189, 234 Stem family 175-180, 249 Virginity 33, 63, 66, 81, 223, 227, 229, Suffrage 30, 151p., 155pp., 231 231, 253p., 266, 270p., 280 Suicide 223, 263 Virginity test 229pp. Swiss Civil Code 112, 148 Sworn virgin 229p. Western Anatolia 66, 97, 99, 128 Syros 82, 100 Western Balkans 28, 46, 48, 67, 69, 73, 87p., 266, 281 Westernization 24, 93, 101, 109p., 112p., Thrace 12, 45, 97 148p., 189, 276 Tirana 67, 82, 84, 101, 136, 207, 224, 233, Wife abuse 224p. 252, 265 Withdrawal 108, 139, 191, 250, 252, 255p., Transnational household 238-242 268 Transylvania 15, 95, 170 Women’s movement 31p., 113, 142, 151- Tribal society 38, 47, 73, 128 159, 186, 189p., 209, 213, 222, Tributary system 27, 30, 36, 42, 57p., 117, 233, 235p., 274, 280 159, 274 Trousseau 63pp., 70 Yörüks 66, 90 Türban movement 234 Young Turks 34, 81, 93, 101, 152 Youth 60, 63, 67, 70, 110, 127, 157, 166p., Urban family 23, 56, 83, 169, 180-186 214, 228, 238, 247, 270 Urbanization 10, 31, 110, 119, 121, 126, Yugoslavia 20p., 86, 92, 98, 102p., 106pp., 140, 160, 163, 166, 175, 181, 121, 127, 131, 137p., 146, 158, 168p., 171, 183p., 197, 205, 214, 243 175p., 181, 185, 211, 219, 224, 232, 238, 250, 256, 258p., 266, 278 Uxorilocality 47, 72, 79pp., 83