that there’s going to be a new government. What’s going on? Why? Those khakims have closed themselves off in the government and decided, without consulting us, that the Kumyks are peaceful, the Kumyks will put up with anything, they can be removed from power without any fuss…”
The crowd buzzed.
“How were things before? The Avars and Dargins had the most powerful positions in the Republic’s government, and they gave us the third place. And we always agreed to that. And now what? They want to change everything! Here in our homeland we always lived together with the Russians like this…” The man with the mustache clasped his palms tightly together. “…in peace! And then the others came down from the mountains and what happened? The Russians left…”
Indistinct shouts were heard from the front rows. All Shamil could make out was the word “Wall.”
The man with the mustache shook his head: “I don’t know a thing! Nothing at all! They’re not telling us anything! One day I hear ‘There’s a Wall,’ the next day, ‘There’s no Wall.’ All I know is that everything is all mixed up.” The man rubbed his palms together. “They want to divide everything up themselves, and keep the people out of it.”
The crowd again moaned and stirred. Another man took the megaphone. He was draped in a green cloth with a slogan stamped on it, “ Tenglik ,” in huge black letters.
“They’re trying to force us into secondary roles! But who was the first to make peace with Russia? The Kumyks. Who suffered most of all during the Civil War? The Kumyks. Who gave more sons to the Great Patriotic War than anyone else? The Kumyks. Who revolutionized agriculture? The Kumyks. And what do we have now? They took our ancestral lands. We’ve lost nearly all our arable land! Do you see Kumyks at the bazaars? Not a single one! Do you see our traditional crafts anywhere? Nowhere! We’ve closed our eyes to it until now, because we’re a wise people. But we can’t put up with it anymore. I’m telling you, it’s time…”
The square filled with sound, including, for some reason, shouts of “ Allahu akbar !”
“It is time to liberate the plains from the usurpers, it is time to unite with our Turkic brothers,” roared the speaker. “Long live the Kumyk republic!”
Shamil looked around. The square fell silent for a moment, then came back to life, chanting “Kumykstan! Kumykstan!”
Meanwhile a neatly dressed man with a round white beard mounted the steps to the theater entrance. He waited for the shouting to die down, gave the crowd some unintelligible greeting, then began to speak in a resonant, confident voice, glancing down now and then at some notes on a piece of paper.
“You were saying just now that Moscow gave us land, and that the Tarkov chiefs, our leaders in the past, had a good relationship with Moscow…But let us remind ourselves what that means. What exactly is Moscow—who are the Rus? The Rus are Varangians, and the Varangians are Turkic Kipchaks—they wouldn’t have a language or a culture if it wasn’t for us! It was the Turks, together with Attila, who brought literacy, metalworking, and the plow to Scandinavia.It was the Turks who gave Rus the alphabet. Cyril and Methodius were our own blood brothers, who converted the ancient Turkic runic alphabet into European letters and who devised the Glagolitic script, which had forty sounds—the exact number our language needs. And Christianity? The Patriarchal seat of the Eastern Church was located in Derbent as far back as the fourth century, and it was there that the Turkic clergy ordained the Georgian, Albanian, Syrian, Coptic, and Byzantine priests! In the Middle Ages, Desht-i-Kipchak was the biggest country in the entire area of what is now Russia. The Russian ruling elite and nobility were Turks who spoke their native language. Take the word bathhouse— banya —know what that is? It’s bu-ana !—our steam room. The Turks reigned for
The crowd buzzed.
“How were things before? The Avars and Dargins had the most powerful positions in the Republic’s government, and they gave us the third place. And we always agreed to that. And now what? They want to change everything! Here in our homeland we always lived together with the Russians like this…” The man with the mustache clasped his palms tightly together. “…in peace! And then the others came down from the mountains and what happened? The Russians left…”
Indistinct shouts were heard from the front rows. All Shamil could make out was the word “Wall.”
The man with the mustache shook his head: “I don’t know a thing! Nothing at all! They’re not telling us anything! One day I hear ‘There’s a Wall,’ the next day, ‘There’s no Wall.’ All I know is that everything is all mixed up.” The man rubbed his palms together. “They want to divide everything up themselves, and keep the people out of it.”
The crowd again moaned and stirred. Another man took the megaphone. He was draped in a green cloth with a slogan stamped on it, “ Tenglik ,” in huge black letters.
“They’re trying to force us into secondary roles! But who was the first to make peace with Russia? The Kumyks. Who suffered most of all during the Civil War? The Kumyks. Who gave more sons to the Great Patriotic War than anyone else? The Kumyks. Who revolutionized agriculture? The Kumyks. And what do we have now? They took our ancestral lands. We’ve lost nearly all our arable land! Do you see Kumyks at the bazaars? Not a single one! Do you see our traditional crafts anywhere? Nowhere! We’ve closed our eyes to it until now, because we’re a wise people. But we can’t put up with it anymore. I’m telling you, it’s time…”
The square filled with sound, including, for some reason, shouts of “ Allahu akbar !”
“It is time to liberate the plains from the usurpers, it is time to unite with our Turkic brothers,” roared the speaker. “Long live the Kumyk republic!”
Shamil looked around. The square fell silent for a moment, then came back to life, chanting “Kumykstan! Kumykstan!”
Meanwhile a neatly dressed man with a round white beard mounted the steps to the theater entrance. He waited for the shouting to die down, gave the crowd some unintelligible greeting, then began to speak in a resonant, confident voice, glancing down now and then at some notes on a piece of paper.
“You were saying just now that Moscow gave us land, and that the Tarkov chiefs, our leaders in the past, had a good relationship with Moscow…But let us remind ourselves what that means. What exactly is Moscow—who are the Rus? The Rus are Varangians, and the Varangians are Turkic Kipchaks—they wouldn’t have a language or a culture if it wasn’t for us! It was the Turks, together with Attila, who brought literacy, metalworking, and the plow to Scandinavia.It was the Turks who gave Rus the alphabet. Cyril and Methodius were our own blood brothers, who converted the ancient Turkic runic alphabet into European letters and who devised the Glagolitic script, which had forty sounds—the exact number our language needs. And Christianity? The Patriarchal seat of the Eastern Church was located in Derbent as far back as the fourth century, and it was there that the Turkic clergy ordained the Georgian, Albanian, Syrian, Coptic, and Byzantine priests! In the Middle Ages, Desht-i-Kipchak was the biggest country in the entire area of what is now Russia. The Russian ruling elite and nobility were Turks who spoke their native language. Take the word bathhouse— banya —know what that is? It’s bu-ana !—our steam room. The Turks reigned for