Visiting Scholar Studied Pan Slavism in Slovakia
Tatyana Szafonova is a social anthropologist. In September 2023, she arrived at the Faculty of Social and Economic Sciences as a Marie Skłodowska Curie Visiting Scholar, where she spent two years studying contemporary forms of Pan Slavism and comparing them with Pan Turanism in Hungary. “We cannot ignore these movements; we have to study them in order to understand how they work and why they are gaining popularity,” she says.
We learned about Pan‑Slavism in school, but what is Pan‑Turanism?
Pan‑Turanism, much like Pan‑Slavism, is a pan‑ideology that emerged in the 19th century. Pan‑Slavism developed among Slavic populations in the Habsburg Empire who sought external support, including from the Russian Empire. A similar process took place in Hungary. There, an ideological movement known as Turanism arose, promoting the idea that Hungarians belong to the Turanic peoples—a broad group of nations spanning Europe and Asia, literally from Finland to Japan.
Hungarian thinkers drew on the linguistic relationship between Hungarian and the languages of Estonians and Finns, as well as archaeological and historical evidence about the movements of nomadic peoples from Asia before the arrival of the Magyars, such as the Avars and the Huns. Turanism became especially popular after the disintegration of the Habsburg Empire. Although suppressed during the Soviet period, it re‑emerged strongly in the 1990s, after the fall of the Soviet regime.
The revival of Turanism helped reopen discussions about the idea of a “Greater Hungary.” It filled an ideological vacuum created after the collapse of the Soviet bloc, as people searched for alternatives to Soviet ideas and aesthetics and felt free to look for new—or rediscovered—cultural and historical roots. In this context, many Hungarians embraced the discursive framework of belonging to a Turanic nation within Europe.
Is it still present and popular in Hungary?
Yes. It has become a new form of motivation and mobilisation. On one hand, it is strongly populist — centred around an “us versus them” narrative — and on the other hand, it is deeply rooted in tradition. It enables the creation of entirely new alliances based on imagined kinship ties, which are not grounded in long-term historical practice but can be discursively constructed.
Hungary even became an observer state of the Turkic Council (today the Organization of Turkic States), as the only EU country represented there. It is accepted as a relative by governments of Türkiye, Kazakhstan and Kyrgyzstan. This affiliation is presented in Hungary as something natural — “we are all relatives; we share common roots and cultural background.”
You came to Slovakia in 2023 as a Marie Skłodowska‑Curie Scholar. At the Faculty of Social and Economic Sciences, you studied contemporary Pan‑Slavism. What did your research look like?
I studied versions of Pan‑Slavism presented by Matica slovenská and by the biker club Noční vlci. My main goal was to collect material. Collecting and documenting is a core part of anthropological work — so it can later serve historians and other researchers.
Did you “infiltrate” the groups?
No, that was not my intention. There are ethical procedures that would not allow this due to safety concerns. In anthropology, we must always respect limits. Research requires a certain level of trust between interlocutor and researcher, and in this case neither side would be willing — or able — to build such trust.
I focused on pan‑ideological elements in their rhetoric. I attended their public events, such as commemorations at Slavín, followed their online campaigns and social media accounts. In the case of Matica slovenská, I attended festivals in the countryside and collected their printed publications. I also conducted interviews with experts in Slovakia and abroad.
What did you find out about Pan‑Slavism?
I observed that they present themselves as part of a broad Pan‑Slavic movement — for the Noční vlci it is essentially a Russian version of Pan‑Slavism. There are several important elements to study.
One of them is self‑orientalism. This concept brings us to debates in colonialism and decolonial studies, which are currently very important in social anthropology. Many of my interlocutors see themselves as anti‑colonial activists. They perceive Pan‑Slavic activities as resistance to “colonisation” by Brussels or the USA.
Another aspect was historical revisionism in their rhetoric. For them, the restoration of the past is the future. The modernist idea of linear progress — moving forward — is only one possible way of understanding time. Anthropology offers many examples of cultures that conceptualise time differently. Here we can observe such a transformation happening before our eyes: within a modern European discourse, the idea of time is being restructured. The future becomes the past returning — a circle.
Can a modern person really believe that?
As an anthropologist, my aim is not to prove them wrong. That is not my job. My task is to document what is happening. And currently, we see that this is not merely a “funny fairy tale.” There is a clash between technocratic ideas of progress and these alternative visions — and the latter are a response to the former. We cannot simply dismiss this. You can’t just say, “It’s wrong.” It is a social reality.
Why do you think this is happening?
The most common explanation for the rise of right‑wing ideologies was that, after the financial crisis, people became disillusioned and reacted with frustration. But by now, this has become a system that continues to attract new followers. It is not a temporary reaction. It is a stable tendency — a cluster of factors reinforcing each other.
What we see is not traditional right‑wing ideology. New hybrid identities are emerging. The old left‑right binary has collapsed. Ideas move across this spectrum in unexpected ways. We must study how this works, because denying it is no longer an option.
You say modern populist political movements contain elements of pan‑ideologies. Why?
Populist mobilisation is based on emotions. Humans are emotional beings, yet during the liberal era emotions were suppressed — we were placed into a framework of rational citizens. But voters no longer respond to technocratic progress. Those who gave emotions space gained attention and popularity.
Emotions, desires, fantasies, and utopias are powerful motivators — and pan‑ideologies draw on them heavily. They use selected historical facts but treat them primarily as emotional triggers. For example, the search for kinship is a strongly right‑wing concept of insiders versus outsiders. But one way to include an outsider is to create imagined kinship ties — a modern social construct. These are not “archives” of the past; they are profoundly modern.
We live alongside this thinking far more than we realise. Even I, as a researcher from Russia, experienced these emotions. When I moved from Hungary to Slovakia, I felt something like a “Slavic connection.” I cannot rationally explain it, but I felt “this is more mine.”
My husband is Hungarian and conducts research in Central Asia. I have seen how warmly he is received there — people in Kazakhstan or Kyrgyzstan treat him as a relative. This shows how powerful such ideas can be. You cannot simply dismiss them as 19th‑century fantasies, even if they are, in some sense, illusions.
What conclusions did you reach?
My conclusion is that pan‑ideologies are not inherently right‑wing. They are assemblages of ideas and emotions that can also be used on the “left.” In fact, the European Union itself is based on a pan‑ideological project. Such ideas can serve as a platform for various political directions — though currently the right wing is more successful at mobilising them.
What would your recommendation be for our society?
I am not the one to give direct recommendations. But it is essential to document these phenomena, to create independent archives, and to conduct more research. Research itself creates dialogue. When you meet people in person, you see them differently — you step outside media‑driven polarisation.
Take the Brat za brata movement: it is much more a media project than a real one. They invest far more energy into creating videos and visual materials than into building an actual movement. When their leader Matúš Alexa called for brigades to patrol opposition events, the opposition reacted with fear — as if real brigades were being formed. But in the end, only a few people on motorbikes drove past. The reaction was disproportionate and exaggerated the polarisation. In reality, it was not such a big deal.
As an anthropologist, you previously conducted fieldwork in Siberia. What was it about?
I conducted classical anthropological fieldwork among the Evenki people — hunters in the Baikal region. I spent one year living in the taiga with communities who keep reindeer and hunt for sable. We lived alongside them; I learned survival skills. As a woman, I did not hunt, but I learned to butcher animals, skin them, preserve meat, and milk cows.
It was before 2014. Now, returning would endanger both the community and myself. I would very much like to go back, but today indigenous peoples in Siberia face dramatic pressures. Many live in extreme poverty, and military recruitment is very active in the regions where they live. Because these communities are small, the loss of even a few young men has a devastating impact on their culture and society.
How was your time at Comenius University as a visiting scholar?
It was a very pleasant and inspiring experience — the Anthropology Department at FSEV UK is small. I am truly grateful to everyone there, especially Juraj Buzalka and Danijela Jerotijevič. It was a very valuable period for me. I learned a lot and received strong support.
Barbora Tancerová