At the point of its creation in 1873, Budapest was intended to be a pleasant rallying point of orderliness, high culture and elevated social principles: the jewel in the national crown. From the turn of the century to World War II, however, the Hungarian capital was described, variously, as: Judapest, the sinful city, not in Hungary, and the Chicago of the Balkans. This is the first English-language study of competing metropolitan narratives in Hungarian literature that spans both the liberal late Habsburg and post-liberal, 'Christian-national' eras, at the same time as the 'Jewish Question' became increasingly inseparable from representations of the city. Works by writers from a wide variety of backgrounds are discussed, from Jewish satirists to icons of the radical Right, representatives of conservative national schools, and modernist, avant-garde and 'peasantist' authors. Gwen Jones is Hon. Research Associate at the Department of Hebrew and Jewish Studies, University College London.

At the point of its creation in 1873, Budapest was intended to be a pleasant rallying point of orderliness, high culture and elevated social principles: the jewel in the national crown. From the turn of the century to World War II, however, the Hungarian capital was described, variously, as: Judapest, the sinful city, not in Hungary, and the Chicago of the Balkans. This is the first English-language study of competing metropolitan narratives in Hungarian literature that spans both the liberal late Habsburg and post-liberal, 'Christian-national' eras, at the same time as the 'Jewish Question' became increasingly inseparable from representations of the city. Works by writers from a wide variety of backgrounds are discussed, from Jewish satirists to icons of the radical Right, representatives of conservative national schools, and modernist, avant-garde and 'peasantist' authors. Gwen Jones is Hon. Research Associate at the Department of Hebrew and Jewish Studies, University College London.

Following the brutal wars which raged in the former Yugoslavia in the early 1990s, Bosnia and Herzegovina was awkwardly partitioned into two governing entities: the Federation of Bosnia and Herzegovina and Republika Srpska. But there was one part of the country which could not be fitted into either category: the Brcko District, a strategically critical land-bridge between the two parts of the Bosnian Serb territory. This region was the subject of a highly unusual experiment: placed under a regime of internationally supervised government, Brcko became a 'free city', evoking the memory of Trieste or Danzig over fifty years ago. What has this experiment in state-building revealed about the history of this troubled corner of the Balkans - and its future? What lessons can be applied to conflict resolution in other parts of the world? And was the experiment successful or have the citizens of Brcko suffered further at the hands of the international community? "A Free City in the Balkans" investigates the rise and fall of Brcko and post-war Bosnia and investigates what lessons can be learned for international peacekeeping missions elsewhere.

"A great stone bridge built three centuries ago in the heart of the Balkans ... stands witness to the countless lives played out upon it" and to the sufferings of the people of Bosnia.--Cover.

Chicagoland boasts the world's largest population of Serbs outside of Serbia. Seeking economic opportunities and religious freedom, Serbs first settled in the area more than 100 years ago. Many found work in steel mills and other industries along the banks of Lake Michigan. The first Serbian Orthodox church in the Chicago area began serving parishioners in 1911, and more than a dozen additional congregations were built for the growing numbers of Serbs who arrived after World War II. Civic organizations, such as the Circle of Serbian Sisters, were established to honor and uphold customs from the "old country." Traditional Kolo dancing groups, tambura ensembles, and performance troupes have entertained Serbs and non-Serbs alike. Actor Karl Malden, perhaps the most famous Serbian American from the Chicagoland area, first took the stage in theater productions at his family's Gary, Indiana, Serbian Orthodox church. After the devastating wars in the Balkans in the 1990s, a new wave of Serbian immigrants arrived in Chicago, demonstrating that the city remains a welcoming place due to its abundance of Serbian culture, churches, and community.

Chicago was once known as the "Second Croatian Capital." Lured by economic, political, and social freedoms, Croatians, like other immigrants, came to Chicago in search of the American dream. The first documented groups settled mainly in Pilsen, Bridgeport, and the South Side in the late 1800s. By the turn of the century, these immigrants toiled in Chicago's steel mills, meatpacking plants, and construction sites. They soon formed social groups, churches, schools, Croatian-language newspapers, and other infrastructure needed to support the expanding community. Today there are more than 150,000 descendants of Croatian heritage in the Chicagoland area, and many of the foundations built by the forefathers continue to service the community. Ivan Metrovic ́'s "Indian" sculptures still adorn Congress Parkway and Michael Bilandic ́ remains in the history books as the only Croatian mayor of Chicago. Croatians of Chicagoland examines how this community and its leaders, clergy, laborers, politicians, athletes, benevolent societies, and social organizations helped build and shape Chicago's history.

As Edin Hajdarpasic shows, formative contestations over Bosnia and the surrounding region began well the assassination that triggered World War I, emerging with the rise of new nineteenth-century forces—Serbian and Croatian nationalisms, and Ottoman, Habsburg, Muslim, and Yugoslav political movements—that claimed this province as their own. Whose Bosnia? reveals the political pressures and moral arguments that made Bosnia a prime target of escalating nationalist activity. Hajdarpasic provides new insight into central themes of modern politics, illuminating core subjects like "the people," state-building, and national suffering. Whose Bosnia? proposes a new figure in the history of nationalism: the (br)other, a character signifying the potential of being "brother" and "Other," containing the fantasy of complete assimilation and insurmountable difference. By bringing this figure into focus, Whose Bosnia? shows nationalism to be a dynamic and open-ended force, one that eludes a clear sense of historical closure.