i CEU Press Studies in the History of Medicine Volume XIII Series Editor: Marius Turda 5 Published in the series: Svetla Baloutzova Demography and Nation Social Legislation and Population Policy in Bulgaria, 1918–1944 C Christian Promitzer · Sevasti Trubeta · Marius Turda, eds. Health, Hygiene and Eugenics in Southeastern Europe to 1945 C Francesco Cassata Building the New Man Eugenics, Racial Science and Genetics in Twentieth-Century Italy C Rachel E. Boaz In Search of “Aryan Blood” Serology in Interwar and National Socialist Germany C Richard Cleminson Catholicism, Race and Empire Eugenics in Portugal, 1900–1950 C Maria Zarimis Darwin’s Footprint Cultural Perspectives on Evolution in Greece (1880–1930s) C Tudor Georgescu The Eugenic Fortress The Transylvanian Saxon Experiment in Interwar Romania C Katherina Gardikas Landscapes of Disease Malaria in Modern Greece C Heike Karge · Friederike Kind-Kovács · Sara Bernasconi From the Midwife’s Bag to the Patient’s File Public Health in Eastern Europe C Gregory Sullivan Regenerating Japan Organicism, Modernism and National Destiny in Oka Asajirō’s Evolution and Human Life C Constantin Bărbulescu Physicians, Peasants, and Modern Medicine Imagining Rurality in Romania, 1860–1910 C Vassiliki Theodorou · Despina Karakatsani Strengthening Young Bodies, Building the Nation A Social History of Child Health and Welfare in Greece (1890–1940) C Making Muslim Women European Voluntary Associations, Gender and Islam in Post-Ottoman Bosnia and Yugoslavia (1878–1941) Fabio Giomi Central European University Press Budapest—New York iii © 2021 Fabio Giomi Published in 2021 by Central European University Press Nádor utca 9, H-1051 Budapest, Hungary Tel: +36-1-327-3138 or 327-3000 E-mail: ceupress@press.ceu.edu Website: www.ceupress.com An electronic version of this book is freely available, thanks to the support of libraries working with Knowledge Unlatched (KU). KU is a collaborative initiative designed to make high quality books Open Access for the public good. The Open Access ISBN for this book is 978-963-386-368-8. More information about the initiative and links to the Open Access version can be found at www.knowledgeunlatched.org. This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution- NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License. ISBN 978-963-386-369-5 hardback ISBN 978-963-386-368-8 ebook ISSN 2079-1119 Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Names: Giomi, Fabio, author. Title: Making Muslim women European : voluntary associations, Islam, and gender in post-Ottoman Bosnia and Yugoslavia (1878-1941) / Fabio Giomi. Description: Budapest ; New York : Central European University Press, [2021] | Series: CEU Press studies in the history of medicine, 2079-1119 ; Volume XIII | Includes bibliographical references and index. Identifiers: LCCN 2020036441 (print) | LCCN 2020036442 (ebook) | ISBN 9789633863695 (cloth) | ISBN 9789633863688 (adobe pdf) Subjects: LCSH: Muslim women--Bosnia and Herzegovina--Social conditions. | Muslim women--Yugoslavia--Social conditions. | Women--Bosnia and Herzegovina--Societies and clubs--History. | Women--Yugoslavia--Societies and clubs--History. | Women--Europe--Social conditions. | Europe--Civilization. Classification: LCC HQ1719 .G56 2021 (print) | LCC HQ1719 (ebook) | DDC 305.48/69709497--dc23 LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2020036441 LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2020036442 CONTENTS Lists of Abbreviations vii Lists of Figures viii Lists of Tables xi Acknowledgements xv 1 Introduction Chapter 1 At the Margins of the Habsburg Civilizing Mission 25 Chapter 2 Domesticating the Muslim Woman Question 67 Chapter 3 111 Muslim, Female and Volunteer Chapter 4 167 Calling for Change Chapter 5 227 Putting Change into Practice Chapter 6 267 A Taste for Celebration Chapter 7 Unforeseen Consequences 313 Conclusions 363 Consulted Archives 373 Bibliography 375 Index 389 v LISTS OF ABBREVIATIONS ABiH AHNK Arhiv Bosne i Hercegovine, Archives of Bosnia and Herzegovina Arhiv hercegovačko-neretvanskog kantona, Archives of the HerzegovinaNeretva Canton AJ Arhiv Jugoslavije, Archives of Yugoslavia ARS Arhiv Republike Srpske, Archives of the Republic of Srpska FG Fond Gajreta, Gajret Records GOG Glavni odbor Gajreta, Gajret Central Branch GONU Glavni odbor Narodne Uzdanice, Narodna Uzdanica Central Branch HAS Historijski arhiv Sarajevo, Sarajevo Historical Archives IAB Istorijski arhiv Beograda, Belgrade Historical Archives JMD Jugoslovenska Muslimanska Demokracija, Yugoslav Muslim Democracy JMO Jugoslovenska Muslimanska Organizacija, Yugoslav Muslim Organization MGS Muzej grada Sarajeva, City Museum of Sarajevo MONU Mjesni odbor Narodne Uzdanice, Narodna Uzdanica Local Branch MNO Muslimanska Narodna Organzacija, Muslim Popular Organization MPG Mjesni pododbor Gajreta, Gajret Local Branch MRS Muzej Republike Srpske, Museum of the Republic of Srpska MŽONU Mjesni ženski odbor Narodne Uzdanice, Narodna Uzdanica Local Female Branch MŽOŠ Muslimanska ženska osnovna škola, Muslim Female Elementary School MŽPG Mjesni ženski pododbor Gajreta, Gajret Local Female Branch MŽZM Muslimanska ženska zadruga Mostar, Muslim Women’s Association in Mostar PDS Personalni dosije službenika, Officials’ personal files SANU Srpska akademija nauka i umetnosti, Serbian Academy of Sciences and Arts ZM Zemaljski muzej, Provincial Museum of Bosnia and Herzegovina ZV Zemaljska vlada, Provincial Government for Bosnia and Herzegovina vii LISTS OF FIGURES Figure 1: Postcard depicting Banja Luka, circa 1910. Source: Magbul Škoro, Pozdrav iz Bosne i Hercegovine. Greetings from Bosnia and Herzegovina. Grus aus Bosnien-Herzegowina, vol. 1 (Sarajevo: Dom, 2009), 132. Figures 2 and 3: Muslim women publicly abandoning the headscarf at the 1948 Antifašistički front žena Conference. Source: MGS, photography collection. Figure 4: Alphonse Mucha, The Allegory of Bosnia and Herzegovina, 1900, tempera on canvas, Museum of Decorative Arts, Prague. Figure 5: Muslim woman wearing a feredža in Mostar, 1904. Source: ZM, Franjo Topić’s photography collection, 499. Figure 6: Bosnian Muslim women, undated. Source: ZM, Franjo Topić’s photography collection, 1034. Figure 7: Interior of the Sarajevo Girls’ School, with students dressed in traditional clothes, 1906. Source: ZM, Franjo Topić’s photography collection, 202. Figure 8: Sarajevo Girls’ School, turn of the century. Source: ZM, Franjo Topić’s photography collection, 2603. Figures 9-14: Portraits of the first generation of Muslim women writers. Source: courtesy of Ajša Zahirović. Figure 15: The Central branch of Gajret Osman Đikić in Belgrade. Source: ABiH, FG, 27, 193(2) (undated). Figure 16: A Panslavic party organized by Kolo Srpskih Sestara in Travnik, in 1928. Source: Vardar. Kalendar "Kolo Srpskih Sestara" (1928): 139. Figure 17: Gajret’s female chapter in Bihać, 1921. Source: Hamza Humo, Spomenica dvadesetipetogodišnjice Gajreta: 1903.–1928. (Sarajevo: Glavni odbor Gajreta, 1928), 115. Figure 18: Merhamet’s female chapter in Trebinje, late 1930s or early 1940s. Source: courtesy of Jasmina Cvjetić. Figure 19: The paternalist emancipation. Source: “Lijepi primjer svijesti i razumijevanja prema školovanju naše muslimanke,” Gajret, no. 3 (1938): 56. viii LIST OF FIGURES Figure 20: A gendered portrait of activism. Source: “Portreti gajretovih radnika,” Gajret, no. 12 (1931): 299. Figure 21: Delegates to the yearly Gajret Assembly in Sarajevo, 1931. Source: Gajret, no. 12 (1931): 369. Figure 22: Gajret’s female student dorm in Mostar, early 1920s. Source: Hamza Humo, Spomenica dvadesetipetogodišnjice Gajreta: 1903.-1928. (Sarajevo: Glavni odbor Gajreta, 1928), 126. Figure 23: A Gajret sewing class in Trebinje, late 1930s/early 1940s. Source: courtesy of Jasmina Cvjetić. Figure 24: Early 20th-century teferič. Source: Mustafa A. Mulalić, Orijent na zapadu: savremeni kulturni i socijalni problemi muslimana jugoslovena (Belgrade: Skerlić, 1936), 244. Figure 25: A Narodna Uzdanica teferič in Kiseljak, mid-1930s. Source: Kalendar “Narodna Uzdanica” (1936): 154. Figure 26: Gajret temporary party branch from Mostar, 1928. Source: Gajret, no. 15 (1928): 230. Figure 27: Displaying the prizes collected by Gajret Muslim women activists for a zabava raffle in Stolac, 1931. Source: Gajret, no. 11 (1931): 278. Figure 28: Choreographed performance entitled “For the King and the Homeland,” held at a Gajret party on March 7, 1931 at the National Theater in Sarajevo. Source: Gajret, no. 6 (1931): 139. Figure 29: Gajret women’s choir from Banja Luka, late 1930s. Source: MRS, photography collection, Stanovnici, 346. Figure 30: Bahrija Nuri Hadžić’s Cultural Metamorphosis, collage. Source: Mustafa A. Mulalić, Orijent na zapadu: savremeni kulturni i socijalni problemi muslimana jugoslovena (Belgrade: Skerlić, 1936), 331. Figure 31: A scene from the play On, interpreted by Gajret pupils in Sarajevo. Source: Gajret, no. 6 (1931): 153. Figure 32: Performing the past. Source: Gajret, no. 18 (1928): 269. Figure 33: Performing the past. Source: Novi Behar, no. 12–14 (1936–1937): 175. Figure 34: Disseminating modern beauty: Miss Gajret winners from different Bosnian towns. Source: Mustafa A. Mulalić, Orijent na zapadu: savremeni kulturni i socijalni problemi muslimana jugoslovena (Belgrade: Skerlić, 1936), 258. Figure 35: Self-portrait of Gajret’s Library in Mostar, late 1930s. Source: Mahmud Konjhodžić, Mostarke. Fragmenti o revolucionarnoj djelatnosti i patriotskoj opredjeljenosti žena Mostara, o njihovoj borbi za slobodu i socijalizam (Sarajevo: Veselin Masleša, Sarajevo, 1981), 32. ix LIST OF FIGURES Figure 36: Vahida Maglajlić in the early 1940s. Source: Jasmina Musabegović, Žene Bosne i Hercegovine u narodnooslobodilačkoj borbi 1941-1945. godine: sjećanja učesnika (Sarajevo: Svjetlost, 1977), 560. Figure 37: Ifaket Salihagić with her sons Omer and Halil, Banja Luka, late 1930s. Source: MRS, photography collection. Figure 38: Muslim women doing shopping in Sarajevo’s market, interwar period. Source: ZM, photography collection, 23. Figure 39: Mourners at Mehmed Džemaludin Čaušević’s funeral in March 1938. Source: Gazi husrefbeg library, photography collection. Figures 40, 41 and 42: Muslim women from Sarajevo, 1930s. Source: HAS, photography collection. x LISTS OF TABLES Table 1: Number of male and female pupils in state schools, school year 1899/1900. Source: Vojslav Bogićević, Pismenost u Bosni i Hercegovini (Sarajevo: Veselin Masleša 1975), 284. Table 2: The Džinić Alley mekteb curriculum. Source: Ibrahim Kemura, “Počeci modernog školovanja muslimanki (prve ženske muslimanske škole u Sarajevu),” Glasnik Vrhovnog islamskog starješinstva u Federativnoj Narodnoj Republici Jugoslaviji, no. 1-2 (1974): 29. Table 3: Hours dedicated to each subject in the extended course at Sarajevo’s Muslim Girls’ School, 1913. Source: Hajrudin Ćurić, Muslimansko školstvo u Bosni i Hercegovini do 1918. godine (Sarajevo: Veselin Masleša, 1983), 249. Table 4: Number of students at elementary school in Bosnia and Herzegovina, school year 1918/19. Source: Učitelj, “Šta govore brojke o našem prosvjećivanju,” Pravda, August 14 (1920): 2. Table 5: Number of pupils attending elementary school for the school year 1931/32. Source: Nafis Defterdarović, “Bosna u mraku,” Putokaz, no. 1-2-3 (1939): 394-6. xi To my grandmother Lorena ‘Rudi’ Mantelli (1924–2010), hat manufacturer, who would have loved to study. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS This book is a thorough revision and translation of the doctoral dissertation I defended at the University of Bologna and at the EHESS (École des hautes études en sciences sociales, Paris) in 2011. It has benefitted greatly from the help and support of many people. First of all, I wish to thank my supervisor Armando Pitassio, who generously gave me an initiation in the history of Southeastern Europe and continued to accompany me throughout the adventure of my doctorate, always pushing me to follow my curiosity. I will never be able to thank Nathalie Clayer enough, my second supervisor and now amazing colleague and friend. She gave me the warmest welcome possible when I arrived in Paris for a six-month stay, and in the end I never left. She taught me how to critically address Balkan Muslim studies and pushed me in the broad ocean of the social sciences. I am also especially indebted to Alexandre “Sacha” Popovic, pioneer in Balkan studies who, with his book L’Islam balkanique, sparked my interest for this field when I was 24 and thus changed the trajectory of my life. I feel blessed to have spent several years in his warm company in Paris. Several colleagues were kind and patient enough to read this text during the long years of transition from a PhD dissertation into a book. Bernard Lory, Xavier Bougarel and Stefano Petrungaro gave me great advice immediately after the defense, when the manuscript was still in Italian. More recently, Elissa Helms, Krassimira Daskalova and Adnan Jahić read the manuscript in its English version, helping me to push my reflection further. I am also indebted to Andromeda Đại Lâm Tait, who proofread and copy-edited this manuscript—and who at the same time did much more than that. His thoughtful advice, and the continuous back-and-forthing between us really improved the form and substance of my line of reasoning. Last but not least, xv ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS these pages would have many more misprints without the careful and intelligent reading of Thalie Barnier and Edita Matkić. This book is the result of many research stays in Bosnia and Herzegovina. The list of archivists, librarians and museum curators who helped me when I was in the field is too long to be addressed here. Nevertheless I cannot avoid mentioning Mina Kujović, archivist and historian from the Bosnian State Archives, who generously shared with me her knowledge, books and friends. Also, the staff of the Bošnjački Institut - Fondacija Adil Zulfikarpašić, and in particular Amina Rizvanbegović-Džuvić, Narcisa Puljek-Bubrić and Darija Ciganković deserve my deepest gratitude for making me feel at home in their wonderful institute. Jasmina Cvjetić, Fuad Hasanagić and Adis Bjelanović were incredibly supportive friends, always ready to help with the tougher translations. Stimulating conversations with Ahmet Alibašić, Berina Bašić, Jakov Čaušević, Jasmina Čaušević, Damir Imamović, Husnija Kamberović, Zulejha Merhemić, Zulejha Riđanović, Mevlida Serdarević, Đermana Šeta and Ajša Zahirović helped me a great deal to interpret my findings in the archives. I would also like to thank the women of the association Tuzlanska Amica, and in particular Irfanka Pašagić, who with their tireless everyday work in a post-conflict Tuzla represent the living inspiration for this book. This research was carried out with the support of different institutions that, in the most precarious years of my life, offered some material support and thus a certain degree of serenity: the University of Bologna, the EHESS, the Faculty of Islamic Science in Sarajevo, the Fondation Maison des Sciences de l’Homme and the Central European University’s Institute for Advanced Studies. Circulating between these places made it possible for me to meet a great many clever and generous colleagues who nourished this research and, sometimes in a seminar room, at others in more informal situations, helped me to consolidate my arguments: Efi Avdela, Elif Becan, Sara Bernasconi, Luka Bogdanić, Giovanni Campolo, Francisca de Haan, Franko Dota, Cecilie Endresen, Emily Greble, Pieter Judson, Sümbul Kaya, Morgane Labbé, Laura Lee Downs, Arturo Marzano, Alba Nabulsi, Mary Neuburger, Camila Pastor, Jelena Petrović, Monica Priante, Catharina Raudvere, Rebecca Rogers, İrvin Cemil Shick, Ozan Soybakış, Zilka Spahić Šiljak, Christelle Taraud, Mate Nikola Tokić, Fabrice Virgili, Ece Zerman, Susan Zimmermann. Last but not least, the staff of my research center, the CETOBaC (Centre d'études turques, ottomanes, balkaniques et centrasixvi ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS atiques), as well as the participants of the EHESS seminars, allowed me to grow up in an extremely rich intellectual environment, as a student and later as a researcher. I learnt that writing a PhD, and later a book, is also trying. I would have never made it without the unbounded support of my family and friends. Among them, my parents, Sylvain Dehove, Vincenzo Raimondi and Simon Sarlin were simply irreplaceable. xvii INTRODUCTION The traveler passing through the Bosnian town of Banja Luka circa 1910 could choose from a wide range of postcards to send home. While a considerable number of these cards depicted diverse aspects of the region’s rich cultural heritage—picturesque villages, ruined fortresses, men and women dancing in folk costumes—others showcased the newly-built infrastructure that was becoming an increasingly prominent part of the Bosnian land- Figure 1: Postcard depicting Banja Luka, circa 1910. Source: Magbul Škoro, Pozdrav iz Bosne i Hercegovine. Greetings from Bosnia and Herzegovina. Gruss aus Bosnien-Herzegowina, vol. 1 (Sarajevo: Dom, 2009), 132. 1 INTRODUCTION scape: iron bridges, factories, grid-iron streets, railroads, etc. One postcard in particular (see figure 1) affords a glimpse of Savior Street, one of the main roads in the city center of Banja Luka. The Hotel Austria and Elliot Café are clearly recognizable in the background, places which were at the heart of the Central European, middle-class sociability that was gradually spreading in town. At the center of the composition a couple can be seen sitting in the front seat of a car. The couple is dressed according to European upper-class fashion; the gentleman wears a suit and cap, and the lady, who is immediately obvious thanks to her white dress, wears a corset, a small cap and holds a parasol. Distributed in a semicircle around the car, the urban crowd seems to observe with curiosity this gendered performance of modernity, so unusual in early twentieth century Bosnia. At first sight, the postcard could be a sketch of one of the many minor towns of the Habsburg Empire. Yet there are elements that undoubtedly point to the postcard’s Bosnian origin; the presence of three veiled figures— three Muslim women. Indeed, as a region that had only recently come under the control of Vienna in 1878, and had been a part of the Ottoman Empire for four centuries before that, Bosnia and Herzegovina1 boasted a large Muslim population—a unique case in the Habsburg Empire. The three veiled women’s position at the front of the stage is rather meaningful; they are isolated from the background context, hidden beneath heavy feredža, a type of Muslim garment worn by women in Bosnian towns outside the domestic space at the beginning of the twentieth century. Slightly removed from the rest of the composition, these three figures are the best proof of Bosnia’s recent Ottoman, and thus Oriental past, and of its persistent exoticism in the eyes of the Habsburg observer. Looking at this postcard, one might be tempted to think that European modernity, entering the town in the form of a bourgeois couple riding a car, has touched all but Muslim women. The assumption that Bosnian Muslim women remained for a long time removed from social transformation has enjoyed a great deal of popularity, inside and outside the perimeter of academia. In 2009, when as a doctoral student I first started thinking about focusing on Muslim women in the first decades of the post-Ottoman period—roughly speaking, after the sultans 1 In order to make the text more readable, in this book I refer to the historical region of “Bosnia and Herzegovina” for the most part simply as “Bosnia.” 2 INTRODUCTION and before the communists—several colleagues kindly suggested I drop the subject, and not just due to the risk of being accused of speaking on behalf of women and stealing their voices. The reasons given to me were both of a general nature, and specific to the research. General, because there often appears to be something improper about a male historian deciding to focus on women’s and gender history—dealing with women’s history is a job for women, and doing so implies that either you are not a real historian, or that you are not a real man. Specific, because—as I was told by several Bosnian colleagues—for the period before 1945 there was just not enough archival material for a serious PhD dissertation, and more importantly there was nothing in them that was interesting enough to be told. As I will show in the second part of this Introduction, the existing scholarship seems indeed to suggest that after 1878, Muslim women continued to lead more or less the same lives as they had in the late Ottoman period; they rarely went to school or entered the salaried job market, and they were mostly confined to the domestic space. At least until the triumphant Communist state empowered them with its emancipatory policies in the aftermath of the Second World War. I was also told that, if I really wanted to know more about Muslim women, I ought to listen to sevdalinka, a kind of folk music closely associated with Ottoman Bosnia, which even today has a lively cultural scene.2 These songs often tell the story of urban Muslim women, their cry for unrequited love and desire for their loved ones.3 The female protagonists in sevdalinakas are often described as hidden from the public eye behind a veil or mušebak, the wooden grille covering the windows of a house to guard against the eyes of onlookers. Even though there are exceptions, the majority of these female characters are represented as confined to the house, sometimes walking in the narrow streets of the mahalas, or residential neighborhoods that made up the urban mosaic of the Ottoman town. At first sight, these songs implicitly reinforced my first impressions gleaned from the current state of research; Muslim women were entities removed from the public space. According to this line of reasoning, Bosnian Muslim women represented a kind of anomaly, both in comparison with women in other Muslim societ2 3 The term is possibly from the Ottoman Turkish savda (“passionate love”), which in turn comes from the Arabic sawda, one of the four humors of ancient medicine controlling emotions. Recent scholarship is attempting a more nuanced reading of the way women are portrayed in sevdalinkas. On this topic see Damir Imamović, Sevdah (Zenica: Vrijeme, 2017),149-52. 3 INTRODUCTION ies, and in comparison with non-Muslim women in the Yugoslav region. As a great deal of research has already convincingly shown, the decades at the turn of the twentieth century represent a period of major change for Muslim women around the world. At a time when the Ottoman Empire was becoming a vast testing-ground, where competing “imagined communities” were being forged and contested, the enforcement of appropriate gender roles—and in particular appropriate femininity—turned out to be on extremely contentious ideological ground. In Istanbul, but also in Egypt, the Maghreb, and the Mashrek, the developing public concern for the so-called “woman question” involved secular and religious public figures, the colonizers and the colonized, as well as men and women.4 In the Yugoslav region, roughly during the same decades, the history of non-Muslim women is no less charged with change. At a time when the state defined itself as a promoter of progress and modernity, women began to be considered unfit to accomplish their role as mothers and educators of future generations, and then became an object of reform and regeneration. Christian and Jewish Women of the Yugoslav region—whether they lived in the Ottoman or Habsburg Empire, or in the Serbian and Montenegrin states—experienced new forms of education, learned to write and speak in public, joined the paid workforce, transformed their consumption practices and everyday life, and took part in the political struggle amidst the ranks of nationalist, socialist and feminist movements. In close relation with what their counterparts were doing in other European states, women imagined competing projects of social reform, took to the streets to demand better work and living conditions, and the right to vote.5 Moreover, research from the last few decades has shown 4 5 The research on Muslim women between the late-nineteenth and mid-twentieth centuries is extensive. Several volumes, which already make up the canons of Women’s and Gender History, helped to shape my approach on this topic: Nilüfer Göle, The Forbidden Modern: Civilization and Veiling (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1996); Lila Abu-Lughod, ed., Remaking Women: Feminism and Modernity in the Middle East (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1998); Meyda Yeğenoğlu, Colonial Fantasies: Towards a Feminist Reading of Orientalism (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998); Fatima Mernissi, Beyond the Veil: Male-Female Dynamics in Modern Muslim Society (Bloomington and Indianapolis: Indiana University Press, 1987); Leila Ahmed, Women and Gender in Islam: Historical Roots of a Modern Debate (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1992); Beth Baron, The Women’s Awakening in Egypt: Culture, Society, and the Press (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1994). Additional literature will be referenced throughout this text. On women in the Yugoslav region see in particular Jovanka Kecman, Žene Jugoslavije u radničkom pokretu i ženskim organizacijama 1918–1941 (Belgrade: Institut za savremenu istoriju, 1978). An irreplaceable tool for the study of the history of women in the Yugoslav region is Francisca de Haan, Krassimira Daskalova and Anna Loutfi, eds., A Biographical Dictionary of Women’s Movements and Feminisms: Central, 4 INTRODUCTION us the extent to which women forged the course of their own lives, respecting or transgressing the boundaries imposed by class, age, political, ethnic and religious affiliations. How was it then possible to imagine that Muslim women in Bosnia were completely removed from all of these changes? Gendering Associational Culture This book is an attempt to tell a different story and to contribute to the history of Bosnian Muslims in the first decades of the post-Ottoman era, by putting women and their experiences in the picture. In a historiography traditionally focused on national, class, and ethno-confessional categories, the goal is to shift the major interest to gender and explore its heuristic power.6 More concretely, the book covers a period that falls between 1878, when the Congress of Berlin assigned this Ottoman province to the Habsburg Empire, and 1941, when Axis troops invaded Yugoslavia. In the space of approximately six decades, this region was integrated into two continental empires, the Ottoman and the Habsburg, and into a state based on the national principle, the Kingdom of the Serbs, Croats and Slovenes, renamed the Kingdom of Yugoslavia in 1929. In order to explore the history of Muslim women and the evolution of a debate on Muslim, post-Ottoman gender relations, this book focuses on a specific social organization: the voluntary association. Usually associated with urban middle-class Western Europe and North America, voluntary associations became more prominent in the Yugoslav region from at least the last quarter of the nineteenth century. In a region that was at that time shared between Vienna and Istanbul, they turned up in virtually all of the languages in use—Verein in German, cemiyet in Ottoman Turkish, udruženje or društvo in Serbo-Croatian,7 not to mention the 6 7 Eastern, and South Eastern Europe, 19th and 20th Centuries (Budapest and New York: Central European University Press, 2006) and Jelena Petrović, Women’s Authorship in Interwar Yugoslavia. The Politics of Love and Struggle (Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2019). On the lack of gender-sensitive scholarship in Balkan Muslims studies, see Ina Merdjanova, Rediscovering the Umma: Muslims in the Balkans between Nationalism and Transnationalism (New York: Oxford University Press, 2013), 82–102. At present, in the countries of former Yugoslavia, the official state languages include Slovenian, Croatian, Bosnian, Serbian, Macedonian, Montenegrin and Albanian. Without engaging in any of the sensitive political debates among Serbs, Croats, Bosniaks and Montenegrins, it can be stated that Serbian, Croatian, Bosnian and Montenegrinian are mutually intelligible. In the period under study in this book, this language was referred to by the state under several terms: zemaljski jezik (provincial language), srpski (Serbian), hrvatski (Croatian), jugoslovenski (Yugoslavian), srpsko-hrvatski (Serbo-Croatian) državni 5 INTRODUCTION kaleidoscope of local idioms that would later be called “minority languages.” Several generations of philosophers, historians and social scientists have already stressed the primary role played by associations in the making of what we are now used to calling modernity. The term “voluntary association” generally refers to an organization that is contractual in nature, which distinguishes it from other forms of “traditional” organizations based on an assigned status, such as place of origin or blood-ties. Researchers often consider these institutionalized groups to be characterized by two principal markers, i.e. their non-governmental nature and their non-profit orientations, traits that have led scholars to consider voluntary associations as intermediary bodies that are autonomous from both the strictures of the state and family control. Thanks to this specific position, associations are usually considered as a kind of free space where individuals with spare time—men and progressively women as well—can express their beliefs, and promote their interests in coordination with their fellow members. The relationship between these communities of interest and the making of the public sphere has long been underlined; the French philosopher Alexis de Tocqueville had already observed in the early nineteenth century that “newspapers make associations and associations make newspapers.”8 Voluntary and selective membership, statutes laying out limited and explicit goals, self-government through written acts, and the appointment of roles through an elective process: these other key elements are usually associated with voluntary associations. It goes without saying that historical research has shown the extent to which this is just an ideal type; once associations leave the World of Ideas and enter into human history they undergo transformations, diversions, misappropriations, and they are not necessarily synonymous with liberal modernity.9 8 9 jezik (State language), narodni jezik (popular, or national, language) or even naš jezik (our language). For the sake of simplicity, this language will be referred to as the “Serbo-Croatian language.” The approach adopted by this book is to cite the form used in the primary or secondary source. For an overview on these issues, see in particular Robert D. Greenberg, Language and Identity in the Balkans: Serbo-Croatian and Its Disintegration (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2004). Alexis de Tocqueville, Democracy in America (London: Fontana Press, 1969), 518. Several texts have contributed to shaping my perception of associations, and in particular: Graeme Morton, Boudien de Vries, Robert J. Morris, eds., Civil Society, Associations and Urban Places: Class, Nation and Culture in Nineteenth-century Europe (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2006), 1–16 and Maurice Agulhon, “L’histoire sociale et les associations,” Revue de l’économie sociale, no. 14 (1998): 35–44. For more definitions of associations, see Peter Clark, British Clubs and Societies, 1580–1800: The Origins of an Associational Word (New York: Clarendon Press, 2000), 16; Joseph Bradley, Voluntary Associations in Tsarist Russia: 6 INTRODUCTION At first glance, the idea of focusing on voluntary associations in the Yugoslav region may seem bizarre or misinformed, to say the least. The Bosnian people and the inhabitants of the Balkans in general are not usually considered to be—to quote Arthur M. Schlesinger, speaking about the United States—“nation(s) of joiners.”10 At least since the beginning of the twentieth century, journalism, literature and scientific research have converged to reinforce an image of the Balkan peoples as the European continent’s “savages,” a sort of “internal Other” as Maria Todorova put it, or “semi-Orientals,” to quote Larry Wolff, only capable of mobilizing themselves through common ancestral bonds such as ethnicity, blood-ties and religion.11 The gory collapse of Socialist Yugoslavia in the 1990s, a process that in Bosnia took on a particularly dramatic turn, has only contributed to engraining this image; their associational culture, and by extension their civil society in general, has been branded as intrinsically incomplete, defective, or even entirely missing. The reason for this historical failure is most often assigned to the longue durée; at the root of this impossibility to adhere to an idealized Western European modernity, what is most often mentioned is the prevalence of rural societies dominated by autocratic empires, weak economic growth, a lack of cultural unity, and individualistic rational ethos.12 Built upon several years of research across Bosnia and Herzegovina, Serbia, and Croatia, this book aims first of all to contribute to clearing the field of these Balkanist assumptions, and to demonstrate that Bosnian associational culture was neither absent nor defective, but vital, dynamic and deeply interconnected with the development of voluntary associations on a global scale.13 10 11 12 13 Science, Patriotism and Civil Society (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 2009), 5–6. On voluntary associations in the Yugoslav region, see also Fabio Giomi and Stefano Petrungaro, “Voluntary Associations, State and Gender in Interwar Yugoslavia. An Introduction, European Review of History 26, no. 1 (2019): 1–18. Arthur M. Schlesinger, “Biography of a Nation of Joiners,” The American Historical Review 50, no. 1 (1944), 1–25. Maria Todorova, Imagining the Balkans (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1997); Larry Wolff, Inventing Eastern Europe: The Map of Civilization on the Mind of the Enlightenment (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1994). Ernest Gellner, Conditions of Liberty: Civil Society and its Rivals (London: Hamish Hamilton, 1994); George Schöpflin, “The Political Traditions of Eastern Europe” Daedalus 119, no. 1 (1990): 55–90. For a criticism of this position, see Anastassios Anastassiadis and Nathalie Clayer, eds., Society, Politics and State-Formation in South-Eastern Europe during the 19th century (Athens: Alpha Bank Historical Archives, 2011), 11–32 and Bojan Bilić, “A concept that is everything and nothing: Why not to study (post)Yugoslav anti-war and peace activism from a civil society perspective,” Sociologija 53, no. 3 (2011): 297–322. For a global history of voluntary associations, see in particular Stefan-Ludwig Hoffmann, Civil Society: 1750–1914 (Basingstoke and New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2006). 7 INTRODUCTION In a region where Muslim women remained largely illiterate, and therefore first-person literature written by them was very rare, this books focusses on voluntary associations for a specific reason. As has already been noted by scholars who have taken this subject seriously, such as French historian Maurice Agulhon,14 associations are graphomaniac actors who leave behind a plethora of written traces. At least when they have survived the injuries of time, turmoil and war, associations’ archival and printed sources represent a largely unexploited goldmine of information where gender historians can hope to discover the names, choices and ideas of the Muslim women who navigated the decades between the empire(s) and the nationstate. What I am particularly interested in understanding is how Muslim women potentially used—if at all—the new space of possibilities opened up by voluntary work in post-Ottoman Bosnia, and later Yugoslavia, be this in philanthropic, cultural, feminist or revivalist associations. How did they engage in existing associational networks? Did they establish their own associations? How did they legitimize volunteering? What really interests me here is gaining a glimpse, through the associational prism, of Muslim women in their relationships with the rest of society and how that changed over time. How did they engage in voluntary activities that challenged, at least to some extent, the prescribed separation between men and women, but also between Muslims and non-Muslims, still common in the Bosnian Muslim urban strata? What kinds of gendered divisions were established around their associational labor? How was the line separating men and women, Muslims and non-Muslims, moved, renegotiated and contested? How did Muslim women manage to gain access to the public space, and how did they learn to interact with the state and religious institutions? Whenever possible, this book seeks to reassess Muslim women’s “capacity to exercise their will, to determinate the shape of their own lives, and to partake in the shaping of their culture and society”15—in a word, to give them back their agency, and get rid once and for all of the Orientalist stereotype portraying them as silenced and oppressed. In a historical period in which virtually every journal dedicated dozens of articles to debating gender relations, usually framed according to the well-known formula žensko pitanje (the woman question), 14 Maurice Agulhon, Pénitents et Francs-Maçons de l’ancienne Provence (Paris: Fayard, 1984), i-xiii and 1-20. 15 Margot Badran, Feminists, Islam, and Nation: Gender and the Making of Modern Egypt (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1995), 3. 8 INTRODUCTION special attention will be assigned to how this debate developed among Bosnian Muslims. What kind of political and cultural references did Muslim intellectuals of both sexes have? Is there any specificity to the domestication of this debate among Bosnian Muslims? How did Muslim women engage in this debate? How did class, age, level of education and religiosity shape their ideas, the circulation of these ideas, and participation in the debates that regularly exploded in the Bosnian, and later Yugoslav, public sphere? It would be impossible to give a comprehensive image of the multitude of associations that were established in Bosnia in the period from 1878 to 1941. This research has adopted two selection criteria. First, associations in which Muslim women directly took part have been taken into account; as members, donors, sympathizers or beneficiaries (e.g. scholarship holders, students hosted in association dorms, public lecture attendees, etc.). Secondly, the group of associations that engaged with Muslim women and with the Muslim woman question is taken into account here. The information I was able to collect on these associations varied a great deal from one case to another. Many associations will only be given a brief mention in this book, either because they were short-lived or because I was only able to obtain fragmentary information about them. Other associations will make regular appearances throughout this work; the largest organization that can be associated with the pre-1945 period is without a doubt Gajret (Effort). Established in Sarajevo in 1903, this association rapidly extended to many other Bosnian towns, and even beyond the province; for example, in the Sandjak of Novi Pazar, Southern Serbia (modern-day Macedonia), and Serbia, especially in Belgrade. Besides its main mission—allocating scholarships to Muslim students of both sexes—the association expanded to a diverse range of other activities: printed journals and pamphlets, recreational and leisure activities, public lessons and literacy courses. As this book will attempt to show, Gajret became one of the main forums for Muslim (mostly male) public figures to develop a discourse on the Muslim woman question. Attended only by men in the beginning, during the interwar period the association’s doors were also opened to Muslim women.16 In order to distance themselves from Gajret’s openly pro-Serbian and pro-governmen16 Ibrahim Kemura, Uloga Gajreta u društvenom životu Muslimana Bosne i Hercegovine: 1903–1941 (Sarajevo: Veselin Masleša, 1986). 9 INTRODUCTION tal stance, other members of the Muslim male elite established Narodna Uzdanica (Popular Mainstray) in 1924, with the same goal and structure as their rival association, but with pro-Croatian leanings.17 Each according to their national alignment, these two Muslim cultural associations systematically cooperated with Croatian and Serbian associations working out of Belgrade and Zagreb. Given their similar structure and agenda—working toward educating the Muslim youth—in this book I refer to these two associations as “Muslim cultural associations.” Besides these two large-scale Muslim associational networks, a different kind of organization was also developing in Bosnia: philanthropic associations. Usually established at the town level, the main preoccupation of these associations was the care of the urban poor. As was usually the case in both the Ottoman and Habsburg Empires, these associations were set up along confessional lines. In some isolated cases, Muslim women chose to establish their own philanthropic associations, such as Osvitanje (Dawn) in 1919, based in Sarajevo.18 However, in most cases, Muslim women participated in philanthropic associations through specific female branches of mixed associations.19 Unlike cultural associations, in which Muslim and non-Muslim women often worked together in the name of national sisterhood, the confessional homogeneity of these philanthropic associations remained unchallenged. Though Muslim cultural and philanthropic associations remain the principal focus of this book, it will also take a look at the case of El-Hidaje (The Right Path), an association established by revivalist Islamic religious scholars in the second half of the 1930s. Before the Second World War, El-Hidaje had managed to establish a network of local branches in the principal towns of Bosnia and Serbia. Even though, until the beginning of the war, membership to this association was reserved to men, this association made an original contribution to the debate on post-Ottoman Muslim gender relations, and this is why it has its place in this book.20 Muslim associations were not the only institutions where Muslim 17 Ibrahim Kemura, Značaj i uloga Narodne Uzdanice u društvenom životu bošnjaka: 1923.–1945. (Sarajevo: Bošnjački Institut, fondacija Adila Zulfikarpašića i Institut za Istoriju u Sarajevu, 2002). 18 Nusret Kujraković, “Osvitanje. Prvo udruženje muslimanki u Bosni i Hercegovini,” Prilozi Instituta za istoriju, no. 38 (2009): 145–164. 19 Uzeir Bavčić, Merhamet (1913–2003) (Sarajevo: Muslimansko dobrotvorno društvo “Merhamet,” 2003). 20 Muharem Dautović, Uloga El-Hidaje u društvenom i vjersko-prosvjetnom životu bošnjaka (1936-1945) (M.A. diss., Faculty of Islamic Sciences Sarajevo, 2005). 10 INTRODUCTION women became visible and that took on the Muslim woman question. This research would be severely undermined if it omitted two other poles: the feminist associations and the communist movement which, in particular in the early 1920s and late 1930s, spread their ideas in Yugoslavia, building their networks across different national and confessional groups. As regards the feminists, among the various associations of this kind that became prominent in the Yugoslav public sphere, special attention has been given to Ženski Pokret (Women’s Movement), an association based in Belgrade that in the aftermath of the Great War expanded to establish sister branches in Bosnia and Herzegovina. As for the communist sympathizers, special attention will be assigned to the ephemeral but vocal groups of Muslim university students in Zagreb and Belgrade, as well as their presence in several associations in Bosnia, thanks especially to the involvement of secondary school students. Even though, as this work will show, Muslim women only exceptionally got close to feminist and communist groups, both groups spoke out loudly and in public about their “Muslim sisters,” or the “working Muslim woman”—as they often called them—countering the almost complete monopoly of Muslim men on the discourse that defined the terms of the Muslim woman question.21 In research, like in every other domain, to choose is to renounce. Choosing voluntary associations as a privileged site of analysis raises problems and projects new shadows that must be addressed in an Introduction. First of all, in a multiconfessional society such as that of Bosnia, where the borders of different religious communities were far from impermeable, how should we identify Muslim women? Muslim given names and surnames were for me primary indicators in considering someone as sociologically Muslim, even if it this does not necessarily tell us anything about their degree of personal religious feeling and practice. Although this method can be most effective, this is not always the case, and sometimes people used names and surnames that are common to both Muslim and non-Muslims in the region. Even if I of course did my best to double-check all of the information I used to support my research, there is a thin margin of error, especially for names which are mentioned in the sources only once. Besides this general caveat, choosing 21 Thomas A. Emmert, “Ženski Pokret: The Feminist Movement in Serbia in the 1920s,” in Gender Politics in the Western Balkans: Women and Society in Yugoslavia and the Yugoslav Successor States, ed. Sabrina P. Ramet (University Park, Pa: Pennsylvania State University Press, 1999), 33–50. 11 INTRODUCTION to work on voluntary associations also necessarily pushes other segments of Yugoslav society to the background. First of all, associations were an eminently urban and middle-class phenomenon; they involved mostly teachers, students, white-collar workers, sometimes landowners and shopkeepers of both sexes, distinguished from the rest of the population by their level of education, working conditions and consumer habits.22 Muslim women who belonged to the small but growing working class, and especially the peasantry (80% of the Yugoslav population on the eve of the Second World War) will remain in the very background of this book. The same is true for Muslim women of non-Slavic origin, in particular those who belonged to the minorities of Turkish- and Roma-speaking populations, and Slavic-speaking Muslims living outside of Bosnia and Herzegovina, who are mentioned only episodically and fall outside of the perimeter of this research. Last but not least, it is worth recalling that associational sources do not allow us to reconstruct Muslim women’s presence in the public space in its entirety. There was doubtless much more going on in these women’s lives than what can be gleaned from written and visual archives. In particular, informal, oral interactions, which generally did not enter into the records, no doubt represented a significant segment of their experience, and remains terra incognita, and will probably remain that way. More Horses Than Women, Still Before moving on to a description of the book’s structure, it seems necessary to say a few more words about the achievements and gaps in the existing research on Muslim women at the turn of the century. My hypothesis here is that the history of Bosnian (and even Yugoslav) Muslim women in the first decades of the post-Ottoman period is located in a sort of blind spot between different historical—and political—discourses. After the Second World War, the dominant Yugoslav historical narrative considered the National Liberation to be the “year zero” of Muslim women’s access to the public space. The Communist Party of Yugoslavia, and more 22 A. Ricardo López and Barbara Weinstein, eds., The Making of the Middle Class: Toward a Transnational History (Durham: Duke University Press, 2012), 1–28, 107–20; Jürgen Kocka, ed., Les Bourgeoisies européennes au XIXe siècle (Paris: Belin, 1996) and Pamela M. Pilbeam, The Middle Classes in Europe: 1789– 1914 France, Germany, Italy and Russia (Basingstoke and London: MacMillan, 1990), 1–22. 12 INTRODUCTION particularly the Antifašistički front žena (Women’s Antifascist Front, an organization established in December 1942), represented the driving forces of this emancipatory process. According to the official narrative, emancipation was a three-step process: Muslim women’s participation in the War of National Liberation, women obtaining the right to vote, and the banning of the veil by the newly established federated socialist republic of Bosnia and Herzegovina on September 28, 1950.23 As had already happened in other countries during the interwar period, especially in the Soviet Union, the public ceremonies in which Muslim women publicly abandoned the headscarf became symbolic of the end of the timeless patriarchal oppression of Muslim women, and at the same time symbolic of the Socialist palingenesis of the whole society (see figures 2 and 3).24 All that had happened “before” this moment is therefore often downplayed, even though groundbreaking research, such as Vera Erlich’s work on Yugoslav rural families in the 1930s,25 has pointed out that, even before 1945, a deep and ongoing transformation in gender relations had been taking place. Examples of this kind of dominant socialist narrative are abundant. “The Fighting Path of the Yugoslav Woman”, a book published in Belgrade in 1972 and written to celebrate the role of women in the War of National Liberation, briefly recognized some changes in Muslim women’s lives during the interwar period: access to voluntary associations, the development of a debate on Muslim femininity, the transformation of veiling practices, etc. “In any case,” the author writes, “the difficult conditions for women, as workers, could not be improved through appeals, petitions and philanthropic initiatives. The roots [of their terrible condition] went deeper, and for this reason a transformation in women’s lives could only be brought about through their integration into the revolutionary workers’ movement and into the fight against the capitalist order.”26 The message is clear; there was no space for the emancipation of Muslim women before, and outside 23 On this topic, see in particular Senija Milišić, Emancipacija muslimanske žene u Bosni i Hercegovini nakon oslobođenja (1947–1952) (M.A. diss., University of Sarajevo, 1986). 24 For a comparative approach to anti-veiling campaigns, see in particular Stephanie Cronin, ed., Anti-Veiling Campaigns in the Muslim World: Gender, Modernism and the Politics of Dress (London and New York: Routledge, 2014). 25 Vera S. Erlich, Family in Transition: A Study of 300 Yugoslav Villages (Princeton New Jersey: Princeton University Press, 1966). 26 Dragutin Kosorić, ed., Borbeni put žena Jugoslavije (Belgrade: Leksikografski zavod “Sveznanje,” 1972), 45. 13 INTRODUCTION Figures 2 and 3: Muslim women publicly abandoning the headscarf at the 1948 Antifašistički front žena Conference. Source: MGS, photography collection. of, the path traced by the Communist Party. Celia Hawkesworth, who almost two decades ago contributed her groundbreaking work to the study of female public writing in Serbia and Bosnia, summarizes this process very well, stating that “the first forty years of the twentieth century represent a real ‘golden age’ for women throughout the region, but this was virtually forgotten in the aftermath of the Second World War as a result of the distorting effects of communist ideology.”27 27 Celia Hawkesworth, Voices in the Shadows: Women and Verbal Art in Serbia and Bosnia (Budapest: Central European University Press, 2000), 123. 14 INTRODUCTION Nonetheless, even the most orthodox socialist Yugoslav history book has its merits and thus has a place in the building of this book. Eager to show how men and women of every ethno-national group had contributed to the establishment of the socialist state, in each federal republic the Institute of the History of the Worker’s Movement collected information on a number of women who had distinguished themselves in the War of National Liberation. These women had fought in the war alongside their male counterparts, in many cases losing their lives against Axis and ustaša forces. According to some estimates, around 13% of war combatants were women, of which 93% entered the socialist pantheon after the war, having received the Order of National Hero, as opposed to 1,241 men (or 7.03% of combatants).28 Often based on archival research and interviews, these books are an opportunity to explore the lives of several Muslim women, to reconstruct their educational and social backgrounds in the 1930s, and the different ways in which they became a part of communist organizations. A good example of these žene-heroji, or “women heroes”—as they are called in a 1967 book29—is Vahida Maglajlić, a Muslim from Banja Luka who, after Yugoslavia was invaded by the Axis powers in April 1941, entered the Communist Party of Yugoslavia and joined the growing Partisan resistance movement. Vahida, who in the 1930s played an important role in different city associations, was killed by German troops. As the only Bosnian Muslim woman to receive the Order of National Hero, her name is still engraved on stone monuments and given to kindergartens and parks.30 Since the late 1970s, the study of women in Yugoslavia has undergone important changes. This new approach to writing women’s history is emblematic of a “shift,” according to Ivana Pantelić and Biljana Dojčinović, “from the socialist understanding of feminism, regulated by the state, toward a more individual and theoretical approach”31 that has made its way into Yugoslavia. Women historians such as Jovanka Kecman, Lydia Sklevicky and 28 For a discussion on these figures, see Ivana Pantelić, “Yugoslav Female Partisans in World War II,” Cahiers balkanique 41 (2013): 239–50. 29 Žene heroji (Sarajevo: Svjetlost, 1967), or “Women Heroes,” is the title of a book by Mila Beoković that focuses on the lives of nine women who died in the National Liberation War. 30 Barbara Jancar-Webster, Women and Revolution in Yugoslavia: 1941–1945 (Denver: Arden Press, 1990) and Marko Attila Hoare, Bosnian Muslims in the Second World War: A History (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2014), 66. 31 Ivana Pantelić and Biljana Dojčinović, “Women’s and Gender History: The Case of Serbia,” Aspasia 6 (2012): 136. 15 INTRODUCTION Neda Božinović were the main agents of this significant change in historical research, nourished and influenced by the discipline’s evolutions at a transnational level. As Biljana Kašić said of Sklevicky’s work, “one of [the] motivations for carrying out this research was to decode the demagogy at work in revolutionary ideology and analyze the gap between the declarative and the real, particularly the proclaimed emancipation of women alongside the maintenance of patriarchal structures in socialist Yugoslavia.”32 In their pioneering work, these women historians expanded their research to cover what was called at the time “bourgeois organizations,” that is middle class women’s/feminist voluntary associations in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries.33 In the following decades, and especially after the end of the Yugoslav federation, new historians expanded this research, introduced new methodological approaches and considerably broadened our knowledge of women and gender history in the Yugoslav region.34 However, this scholarship only marginally included Muslim women. Mostly operating from the main academic centers of the country—Belgrade, Zagreb and Ljubljana— these researchers mainly focused on the country’s northern, post-Habsburg regions—Slovenia, Serbia, Vojvodina, and Croatia. The post-Ottoman south—Macedonia, Bosnia, and Kosovo—where the majority of Muslims historically lived, remained at the very margins of this research effort.35 As a result, Muslim women were only ever included in this narrative incidentally, mostly mentioned as the object of (unrealized) emancipation by their “unequal sisters,” i.e. non-Muslim female/feminist activists. From the beginning of the 1980s, some articles seemed to announce a rise in interest specifically for Bosnian Muslim women in post-Ottoman times, in particular for 32 Biljana Kašić, “Sklevicky, Lydia (1952–1990),” in A Biographical Dictionary of Women’s Movements and Feminisms, 517. 33 Kecman, Žene Jugoslavije, 5; Neda Božinović, Žensko pitanje u Srbiji u XIX i XX veku (Belgrade: Žene u crnom & Devedeset Četvrta, 1996); Lydia Sklevicky, “Karakteristike organiziranog djelovanja žena u Jugoslaviji u razdoblju do Drugog svjetskog rata”, Polja: časopis za kulturu, umetnost i društvena pitanja 30, no. 308 (1984): 415–7 and 30, no. 309 (1984): 454–6 and Lydia Sklevicky, Konji, žene, ratovi (Zagreb: Ženska infoteka, 1996). 34 Miroslav Jovanović and Slobodan Naumović, eds., Gender Relations in South Eastern Europe: Historical Perspective in Womanhood and Manhood in the 19th and 20th Century (Belgrade: Udruženje za društvenu istoriju, 2002); Svetlana Stefanović, Žensko pitanje u beogradskoj štampi i periodici (1918–1941) (M.A. diss., University of Belgrade, 2000); Magdalena Koh, Kada sazremo kao kultura: stvaralaštvo srpskih spisateljica na početku XX veka: (kanon - žanr - rod) (Belgrade: Službeni glasnik, 2012). 35 For an overview of the research, Sabina Žnidaršić Žagar and Nina Vodopivec, “Searching for Women’s and Gender History in Slovenia,” Aspasia 6 (2012): 156–65; Biljana Kašić and Sandra Prlenda, “Women’s History in Croatia: Displaced and Unhomed,” Aspasia 7 (2013): 154–62. 16 INTRODUCTION their relationship with voluntary associations and their access to education and employment. These articles started to explore the debates around the veil developing during the interwar period, which involved both secular and religious notables.36 Nevertheless, this interest turned out to be only temporary, and the articles produced were never followed by any kind of systematic research. The silence on this subject thus only served to implicitly confirm the idea that Muslim women had remained in the shadow of a timeless patriarchal oppression, obscurantism and passivity up to the establishment of the Socialist State. The developments that at least to some extent affected the way in which Muslim women’s experiences were approached did not only occur within the confines of Yugoslav Women’s History. Islamic studies, which during the 1980s had benefitted from significant improvements both in Yugoslavia and abroad, played a crucial role in all of this. In 1986, the Paris-based orientalist Alexandre Popovic published L’Islam balkanique (Balkan Islam), a book that for decades would be an important milestone in studies on postOttoman Balkan Muslims.37 The result of at least a decade of research, this work was the first to comprehensively deal with the patchwork of Muslim populations of Southeastern Europe, at that time all but forgotten by Western scholarship, as was the case for Muslims living in Socialist countries.38 Popovic’s book, and his work more in general, gave for the first time a critical overview of the historical trajectories of the Muslim populations in this part of Europe, of the evolution of their principal community institutions— schools, sharia courts, pious endowments, hierarchies of religious officials, etc.—and of their integration into the Balkan states. His research provided the groundwork for several generations of scholars, profoundly expanding 36 Senija Penava, “Izvori i literatura o problemima emancipacije muslimanske žene u Bosni i Hercegovini,” Prilozi Instituta za Istoriju 18 (1981): 273–84; Senija Milišić, “O pitanju emancipacije muslimanske žene u Bosni i Hercegovini,” Prilozi Instituta za istoriju 28 (1999): 225–241; Ljiljana BeljkašićHadžidedić, “Učešće muslimanskih žena u tradicionalnim privrednim djelatnostima u Sarajevu krajem XIX i početkom XX vijeka,” in Prilozi historiji Sarajeva. Radovi sa znanstvenog simpozija pola milenija Sarajeva, ed. Dževad Juzbašić (Sarajevo: Institut za istoriju and Orijentalni institut, 1997), 301–14. For an overview of the body of research on women’s and gender history in Bosnia and Herzegovina, see Gorana Mlinarević and Lamija Kosović, “Women’s Movements and Gender Studies in Bosnia and Herzegovina,” Aspasia 5 (2011): 129–38. 37 Alexandre Popovic, L’Islam balkanique: Les Musulmans du sud-est européen dans la période post-ottomane (Berlin and Wiesbaden: Otto Harrassowitz, 1986). 38 On the notion of “forgotten Muslims,” see Alexandre Bennigsen and Chantal Lemercier-Quelquejay, Les Musulmans oubliés: L’Islam en Union soviétique (Paris: La Découverte, 1981), 5. 17 INTRODUCTION our knowledge of Balkan Muslims, and in some cases dealt with women and gender issues, notably the question of the veil. While the Yugoslav state was entering its final stages and beginning to disintegrate, in Bosnia there was a growing interest for the intellectual history of Bosnian Muslims, and for Islamic studies in general. Starting in the early 1990s, scholars such as Fikret Karčić and Enes Karić explored the debates developing within the Muslim community in post-Ottoman times, including as part of their analysis the development of the so-called “Muslim woman question.” However, this line of enquiry primarily explored the intellectual history of prominent male Muslim figures since the late Ottoman period, and mobilized Muslim women only insomuch as they were symbolic figures in the discursive battlefield among these men, be they religious or secular. Scarce interest, or none at all, has been lent to “real” Muslim women and their role in the debate. Nevertheless, decades later this body of research remains of vital importance for those working on the cultural evolution of Bosnian Muslims, and has huge merits. First of all it has reappraised, at least implicitly, the importance of gender relations in post-Ottoman Muslim history, and the extent to which the debate about gender was indeed a political issue. Secondly, in stressing the importance of the relationship between the Muslim intellectuals of Bosnia and Yugoslavia, and their fellow-Muslims in the Middle East, this research has also begun to show that debating gender issues was an eminently transnational venture.39 Thirdly, it has shed light on the veil debate, a topic that, as stated by Ina Merdjanova, “can become a battleground on which power struggles are waged, and power relations at different levels are articulated and reshaped: between Muslims and the state, on the one hand, and among Muslims themselves, on the other.”40 The “discovery” of Balkan Muslims, fostered by Islamic Studies both from within and from outside of the Yugoslav region, was rapidly cast into the limelight in the blaze of Yugoslavia’s collapse, a process that in Bosnia and Herzegovina took the form of a bloody war (1992–95). During the conflict and in the aftermath, several books were published in English on the 39 Fikret Karčić, Društveno-pravni aspekt islamskog reformizma: pokret za reformu šerijatskog prava i njegov odjek u Jugoslaviji u prvoj polovini XX vijeka (Sarajevo: Islamski teološki fakultet, 1990), Fikret Karčić, The Bosniaks and the Challenges of Modernity (Sarajevo: El-Kalem, 1999), Enes Karić, Prilozi za povijest islamskog mišljenja u Bosni i Hercegovini XX stoljeća (Sarajevo: El-Kalem, 2004), Šaćir Filandra, Bošnjaci i moderna: humanistička misao Bošnjaka od polovine XIX do polovine XX stoljeća (Sarajevo: Bosanski Kulturni Centar, 1996). 40 Merdjanova, Rediscovering the Umma, 94. 18 INTRODUCTION history of Bosnian Muslims. The primary aim of these publications was to understand and explain the conflict for an international readership that was entirely unfamiliar with this region.41 In consequence of the atrocious images coming out of Sarajevo, Srebrenica and many other places completely unknown to the wider public until that moment, people suddenly became aware of Bosnian Muslims—or to be more precise, of Bosniaks (Bošnjaci), the national name officially adopted by them in 1993, at the height of the war. Many people, including myself, at that time a teenager, discovered through TV images of half-destroyed minarets that Muslims were not a presence living somewhere beyond the European continent, or recent arrivals who had emigrated for economic reasons. As a matter of fact, there were Muslim populations that had been living on European soil for centuries. Awareness about Bosnian Muslim women increased; one need only search for “Bosnian Muslim Women” in the catalogues of leading libraries across the world, or even on the Internet, to see the impressive number of texts that have been produced on gender violence and rape as a weapon of war.42 This outpouring of research, also reinforced by NGOs and reports from international organizations (the UN and the European Union in particular), dealt with Muslim women mostly as victims of physical, psychological and symbolic violence. As this scholarship has widely shown, women became the embodiment of different ethnic communities; “our women” versus “their women,” as put by an article from 1995.43 The activism of Muslim women during and after the war remained unexplored. Recent scholarship is trying to reappraise this period and the role of Muslim women in it, to challenge the narrative of victimhood, often gendered, mobilized by all of the political actors of Bosnia and Herzegovina, and to give back to Muslim women their agency.44 Invisibilized, marginalized, victimized; according to this line of reasoning, it seems that the story of Bosnian Muslim women is a perfect case of 41 Among the many texts that were published during and in the aftermath of the war in Bosnia, see especially Mark Pinson, ed., The Muslims of Bosnia-Herzegovina: Their Historic Development from the Middle Ages to the Dissolution of Yugoslavia, (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1993) and Francine Friedman, The Bosnian Muslims: Denial of a Nation (Boulder: Westview Press, 1996). 42 Stefano Petrungaro, Balcani: Una storia di violenza? (Roma: Carocci, 2012), 121–34. 43 Julie Mostov, “‘Our Women’/‘Their Women’: Symbolic Boundaries, Territorial Markers, and Violence in the Balkans,” Peace and Change 20, no. 4 (October 1995): 515–29. 44 On this topic, see in particular Elissa Helms, Innocence and Victimhood: Gender, Nation, and Women’s Activism in Postwar Bosnia-Herzegovina (Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 2013) and Zilka Spahić Šiljak, Shining Humanity: Life Stories of Women in Bosnia and Herzegovina (Newcastle upon Tyne: Cambridge Scholars Publishing, 2014). 19 INTRODUCTION “female invisibility in history.”45 Bosnia’s transition into post-socialism not only brought about the return of a patriarchical society—a circumstance that surely does not favor gender-sensitive approaches—but also instilled an obsession for ethnicity and nationality in scholarly research, which for years has obscured other avenues for exploration. At first sight, it would seem that what Lydia Sklevicky said in 1989 about women in Yugoslav historical research is still true, that there were “more horses than women,”46 at least for Muslims. Luckily, on closer inspection it becomes evident that this is no longer the case. In the last few years, a growing number of scholars have focused on the pre-1941 experiences of Bosnian Muslim women. What is so interesting is that they are only rarely professional historians; they mostly come from gender studies backgrounds, or are sociology, literature, and art history graduates. In many cases, they write from the margins of their academic field, and they dedicate an MA thesis to this topic before moving on to different professional experiences. The researchers are—it probably goes without saying—mostly women: students, archivists, and NGO activists that, thanks to funding from abroad, have in many cases been able to do original archival research. The topics addressed by them are numerous: representations in visual art and literature,47 Muslim women and philanthropy,48 or education and teaching,49 to cite a few. Some of these texts work at a local level, exploring the history of women in a specific town or locality.50 Oth45 On the issue of (in)visibility, see in particular Joan W. Scott, “The Problem of Visibility,” in Retrieving Women’s History : Changing Perceptions of the Role of Women in Politics and Society, ed. Jay Kleinberg (Oxford: Berg Publishers, 1988), 5–29. 46 Lydia Sklevicky, “More Horses than Women. On the Difficulties of Founding Women’s History in Yugoslavia,” Gender and History 1, no. 1 (1989): 68–73. 47 Jelena Petrović, “Representations: Fiction, Modern: Southeast Europe,” in Encyclopedia of Women & Islamic Cultures, Brill, 2009, DOI: 10.1163/1872-5309_ewic_EWICCOM_0624d and Sarita Vujković, U građanskom ogledalu: Identiteti žena bosanskohercegovačke građanske kulture (1878. – 1941.) (Banja Luka and Belgrade: Muzej savremene umjetnosti Republike Srpske i Kulturni centar Beograd, 2009). 48 On Muslim female philanthropy, Kerima Filan, “Women Founders of Pious Endowments in Ottoman Bosnia,” in Women in the Ottoman Balkans: Gender, Culture and History, eds. Amila Buturović and İrvin Cemil Schick (London: I.B. Tauris, 2007), 99–126. 49 Mina Kujović, “Jedna zaboravljena učiteljica: Hasnija Berberović,” Građa Arhiva Bosne i Hercegovine 1 (2009): 179–86; and Mina Kujović, “Ko su bile prve nastavnice u Muslimanskoj osnovnoj i višoj djevojačkoj narodnoj školi u Sarajevu (1894.–1918.)” Novi Muallim 6, no. 21 (1426/2005): 48–55. See also Remzija Hurić-Bećirović, Školovanje muslimanki u Bosni i Hercegovini pod austrougarskom vlašću (M.A. diss., Faculty of Islamic Science, Sarajevo, 2010). 50 Three volumes—two of them written with the support of NGOs—have started to explore the history of women and gender in the regions of Semberija, Bratunac (Eastern Bosnia) and Banja Luka (Northern Bosnia): Tanja Lazić, Ljubinka Vukašinović and Radmila Žigić, eds., Žene u istoriji Semberije (Bijeljina: Organizacija žena Lara, 2012); Mensura Mustafić, Žene u vremenu, Donne nel tempo (Sarajevo: Forum 20 INTRODUCTION ers deal with the whole of Bosnia and Herzegovina, situated in the broader Yugoslav region.51 A few months before the publication of this book, a new book by Adnan Jahić on the Muslim woman question in post-Ottoman Bosnia offered a rich overview of the gender politics of Bosnian Islamic religious institutions, and deeply enriched our knowledge on this topic.52 Moreover, new scholarship has allowed us to establish what happened to Muslim women in the Yugoslav region in the broader context of the Balkans, and the post-Ottoman and post-Habsburg regions.53 The Book’s Structure This book is structured in seven parts, organized according to chronological and thematic criteria. The first two chapters examine the first forty years of post-Ottoman Bosnia, when the region became a part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. After focusing on the Habsburg public sphere's representations of Bosnia, the first chapter will take stock of Vienna’s educational policies implemented in the region, as well as the parallel development of a local associational culture. Special attention will be given to the role and position of Muslim women, and how some of them succeeded in navigating between the expectations of Bosnian Muslim society, those of the Habsburg authorities, and their own, to build a new kind of cultural capital altogether. In continuation with this line of reasoning, Chapter Two will address the debate on the Muslim woman question that was taking shape in Bosnia, and more žena Bratunac, 2010); Draga Gajić, Život i stvaralaštvo žena Banjaluke (Banja Luka: Grafopapir, 2013). Recently, a book has summarized this body of research: Jasmina Čaušević, ed., Women Documented: Women and Public Life in Bosnia and Herzegovina in the 20th Century (Sarajevo: Sarajevo Open Centre, 2014). For an extended version of the latter work in Bosnian, see Jasmina Čaušević, ed., Zabilježene: Žene i javni život Bosne i Hercegovine u 20. vijeku: Drugo, dopunjeno i izmijenjeno izdanje (Sarajevo: Sarajevski Otvoreni Centar, 2014). 51 See in particular Nusret Kujraković, Žensko pitanje i socijalni položaj bošnjakinje u Bosni i Hercegovini između dva svjetska rata (M.A. diss., University of Sarajevo, 2008). This thesis is very well documented, and a precious resource for exploring the evolution of Muslim gender relations in interwar Bosnia. For women’s movements, see also the work of the sociologist Zlatiborka Popov-Momčinović, Ženski pokret u Bosni i Hercegovini: artikulacija jedne kontrakulture (Sarajevo: Sarajevski otvoreni centar and Fondacija Cure, 2013), in particular pages 57–93. 52 Adnan Jahić, Muslimansko žensko pitanje u Bosni i Hercegovini 1908–1950 (Zagreb: Bošnjačka nacionalna zajednica za Grad Zagreb i Zagrebačku županiju, Naučnoistraživački institut Ibn Sina Sarajevo, Gradski ured za obrazovanje, kulturu i sport Grada Zagreba, 2017). 53 Karl Kaser, Patriarchy after patriarchy: gender relations in Turkey and in the Balkans, 1500–2000 (Berlin and Wien: LIT, 2008), Agatha Schwartz, ed., Gender and Modernity in Central Europe: The Austro-Hungarian Monarchy and its Legacy (Ottawa: University of Ottawa Press, 2010). 21 INTRODUCTION broadly in the Yugoslav region on the eve of the twentieth century. Special attention is dedicated to the transnational circulation of people and ideas that shaped this debate, involving both Europe and the Middle East, and on the specific role of the thin cohort of women who managed to play a part in it. These first two chapters highlight one of the major arguments of this book: that debating appropriate Muslim gender relations was a way to discuss the fate of the Muslim community as a whole, in the post-Ottoman, European context. In the political and social turmoil that accompanied the end of the Great War and the creation of the first Yugoslavia, there was a transformation in Muslim women’s engagement in the public space. They did not simply limit themselves to written contributions in the press, or to support for associations in the form of donations, as they had done up until that point; they also engaged in volunteering, becoming physically visible in the Bosnian and gradually Yugoslav public space, in cities and in villages. For some of them, this open challenge to the rules of sexual and confessional segregation that were still being enforced at that time was also accompanied by a renegotiation, and sometimes the complete abandonment, of the veiling practice. Chapter Three addresses this crucial shift, focusing in particular on the presence of Muslim women in cultural, philanthropic and feminist associations, in Bosnia but also in the two main university cities of the country, Zagreb and Belgrade. This new situation required both men and women to find new words and ideas to describe and address it; Chapter Four thus looks at the radical reconfiguration of the Muslim woman question in the associational press during the 1920s and 1930s. If, until the Great War, discussions on this topic essentially revolved around the contents of, spaces for and limits of female education, after 1918 many new issues were added to the debate, such as the place of Muslim women in the national community. Even if different references were mobilized by the activists of these associations, the written words they produced had one strong common theme: that of fostering a growing inclusion of Muslim women in the forming Yugoslav social fabric. Here again, the idea that the Muslim population was living as a backward minority in Europe, and for that reason in need of change and progress, structured the whole debate. However, in their mission to promote their competing ideas of appropriate post-Ottoman gender rules, associations did not uniquely limit themselves to putting pen to paper, they 22 INTRODUCTION actively strove to put these ideas into practice. Chapter Five thus focusses on the gender politics implemented by the associations, including the establishment of vocational schools and student dorms, workshops, literacy courses, scholarship etc., and how these measures were modulated according to class variables. Among these initiatives, special attention will be given to the festive culture that the associations cultivated in the interwar years. As a matter of fact, Muslim women invested a great deal of time and energy in this apparently un-political domain of activity, using it to increase their individual and collective responsibility and visibility. For this reason, Chapter Six is dedicated to an analysis of associational festivities as a tool for the empowerment of Muslim women. The last chapter of this book will focus on the second half of the 1930s, a short time lapse in which several major changes occurred. Shaped by radical shifts happening both in Europe and the Middle East, two new political forces gained visibility in Muslim and Yugoslav society: the communists and the Islamic revivalists. Despite taking up starkly opposing positions on virtually every issue on their agenda, these political forces had at least two points in common: they considered Muslim women to play a crucial role in their projects of social transformation; and they assigned to the voluntary association, until then considered to be a bourgeois, progressive and intrinsically liberal institution, the crucial role of spreading their ideas to the Muslim population. For this reason, Chapter Seven compares the approaches and discourses of these two political forces, and more precisely looks at how, on the eve of the Second World War, they proposed new alternatives to the political and social crisis shaking Yugoslavia and Europe. 23