After May 21: What This Day Has Shown to the Circassian World.
May 21 Has Passed. Now We Must Understand What We Have Learned From It.
The Center for Strategic Studies of the Circassian socio-political organization “Khabze” continues to closely monitor events in the Circassian world. Today, we want to share some thoughts on the commemorative events that took place, outline our preliminary findings, and offer a series of recommendations for the future.
This year’s Day of Remembrance for the Victims of the Russian-Caucasian War has shown once again: for Circassians, May 21 is not a formal date on a calendar or an annual “tick-the-box” ritual. It is a day that tests the actual condition of our nation—its memory, its self-organization, the bond between the homeland and the diaspora, and our ability to speak of this tragedy without resorting to marginal slogans, yet without capitulating to the difficult circumstances in which we all find ourselves.
Nalchik: The Power of Active Engagement and the Challenge of Pressure
As expected, the capital of Kabardino-Balkaria was once again at the center of the events of this commemorative day. On May 21, a traditional march took place in Nalchik despite prior warnings from law enforcement. According to OC Media, about a thousand people marched from the railway station to Concord Square, and then to the “Tree of Life” memorial. On the eve of the event, 101 candles were lit at the memorial, symbolizing the 101 years of the war (from 1763 to 1864). The march was peaceful and orderly, with participants moving along the sidewalks. We note with satisfaction that this year, the number of participants in the march and commemorative events exceeded the expectations of skeptics. It is in Nalchik that the clash of two distinct approaches is most visible: the living grassroots public memory from below, and the cautious, controlling logic of the authorities from above. However, we must emphasize the key fact: the march itself proceeded peacefully. Once again, the Adyghs demonstrated mature and disciplined behavior.
It is particularly important to remember that just a few years ago, the format of the events in Nalchik was much broader. In 2019, the equestrian march was held openly and in an organized manner: the police cordoned off the city center, and riders proceeded from the hippodrome area along Baksan Highway, Osetinskaya Street, and Lenin Avenue to the “Tree of Life.” The route itself was an integral part of the commemorative ritual. Subsequently, following the pandemic-induced hiatus of 2020–2021, a period of escalating pressure began: in 2022, the authorities refused to sanction the event, yet people took to the streets anyway; in the years that followed, the march continued to take place in a severely restricted format, accompanied by attempts by the authorities to stop or block the equestrian column. This year, people marched through the city again, but only on the sidewalks and without the traditional horse march. Therefore, the task for the future is not merely to preserve the opportunity to gather at the monument, but to restore the full, dignified format of May 21: a pedestrian march along the central avenue, an equestrian column, national flags, prayer, solemn discipline, and the public right of the people to walk through the streets of their capital in memory of their ancestors.
We understand that local authorities are not fully independent in their decisions; they act with an eye on Moscow and are constrained by their own apprehensions. However, this situation demands honesty from both sides.
The Circassian activist core and society as a whole need high discipline to avoid giving any pretexts for accusations and tighter restrictions, especially against the backdrop of the ongoing war in Ukraine. The local authorities, for their part, need to show more trust in civil society and greater political wisdom, so as not to turn this day of mourning into an annual loyalty test for Circassians. Over all these years, the participants of the May 21 events have never posed a threat to public order; they value peace and stability in the republic no less than the officials do. A nation that knows how to remember does not necessarily live in the past—it simply refuses to let others decide which pages of its history are important and which can be erased.
We must all clearly understand: memory cannot be abolished by administrative pressure. It will either find a civilized, structured expression or be forced into more unpredictable and spontaneous forms.
Cherkessk and Maykop: The Stability of the Official Format and the Risk of Bureaucratizing Folk Memory
In Karachay-Cherkessia, the format was more official and coordinated: in Cherkessk, a solemn rally took place at the memorial to the victims of the Russian-Caucasian War, flowers were laid, and a minute of silence was observed. The event was attended by representatives of public organizations, the clergy, government bodies, youth, and various ethnic groups of the republic. In the Khabez District, the events were held in a more informal setting and were accompanied by a street march.
However, in Cherkessk, it is important to see not only what took place, but also what has been lost. Back in 2015, the mayor’s office refused to sanction an equestrian march through the city streets. At the same time, the pedestrian form of remembrance persisted for some time: in 2018, mourning marches and rallies were still held in the KChR, and in 2022, more than 500 people took part in a march and rally of remembrance in Cherkessk. Since then, the format has increasingly shrunk to a gathering at the monument, dua, prayers, and laying flowers. All of this is vital and necessary, but it is clearly not enough. Cherkessk is the capital of a republic whose name bears the name of our people, and the return of a peaceful march on May 21 to the urban space should be seen not as radicalization, but as the restoration of a natural and dignified form of public memory.
In Adygea, the central event was a requiem in Maykop, held at the Theater Association of the Republic of Adygea and dedicated to the 162nd anniversary of the end of the Russian-Caucasian War. In addition, traditional commemorative events took place, including the lighting of candles, speeches, and cultural and educational programs.
But in Maykop, we face a similar problem: memory is preserved, but its street, grassroots, living format has been weakened. The mourning march along the central street was still firmly established in 2018—from the city park to the “Unity and Concord” complex, with about 1,500 people participating. In 2021, it was cancelled under the pretext of COVID-19 restrictions, after which the format shifted entirely toward indoor requiems, prayers, candles, and stage performances, without a large-scale march through the city. The equestrian element was excluded even earlier: in 2016, horse riders were barred from the memorial march in Maykop, although the tradition of equestrian participation was still alive elsewhere in the North Caucasus. Therefore, in Adygea, too, the goal should not be to abandon official events, but to expand their scope: Maykop needs not just a stage, a hall, and protocol, but the street, movement, youth, flags, riders—a living folk ritual of remembrance.
Thus, an institutional model of memory dominated in Cherkessk and Maykop this year. This format has its strengths: it is stable, orderly, easily accepted by the broader public, and avoids unnecessary tension. But there is a downside: memory risks becoming overly official and sanitized. When mourning is entirely confined to concert halls, protocol, and official speeches, the youth may cease to feel that this date is deeply personal to them.
We believe that the best path is not to oppose the official and public formats, but to harmoniously unite them. Memory must be alive, deeply lived by each of us.
The Diaspora: A Free Voice and the Need for Practical Projects
The diaspora speaks of May 21 more directly and openly. Words like “genocide,” “exile,” “the right of return,” and “historical justice” are heard more frequently there. This is natural: outside of historical Cherkessia, there are fewer domestic constraints, and the diaspora itself is the direct historical consequence of the Muhajirism tragedy.
In Istanbul, according to Caucasian Knot, a commemorative action was held near the Beyoglu municipality, but for the first time in many years, activists were prevented from approaching the Russian Consulate General to lay a mourning wreath. The organizers voiced demands for the recognition of the genocide, apologies, the rehabilitation of their ancestors, and the diaspora’s right to return to their homeland. In Kayseri, a sister city of Nalchik, a large-scale memorial march took place. Traditional events were also held in many other cities across Turkey.
We should also highlight the growing activism among Circassians in Syria, who organized mass events in Damascus and Aleppo. This is of profound significance: even under the harsh conditions of war, Syrian Circassians maintain a strong bond with our shared historical memory.
In other words, May 21 this year took place across several dimensions: as a mourning ritual, a civic action, a cultural memory, a mobilization of the diaspora, and a political statement of intergenerational continuity.
The Main Outcome: Memory is Alive
The first and most important conclusion is simple: memory is alive. And it is alive not because it is sustained by official structures. It lives because people themselves come out, march, light candles, carry flags, bring their children, write articles, shoot videos, hold discussions, deeply empathize, and demand respect for this date. The unity of Circassians on May 21 is felt with particular intensity.
This is especially valuable today, when many nations are gradually losing a living connection to their past, turning their identity into a set of superficial, decorative symbols. For Circassians, May 21 has not yet become an empty symbol. It retains genuine pain, motion, and constructive energy.
But this is precisely where the crucial question arises: what are we doing with this energy?
If May 21 leaves behind nothing but social media photos, routine speeches, and a sense of bitterness from memories of the tragedy—it is not enough. A solid bridge between the homeland and the diaspora is critically important. Each of us operates under different conditions and constraints, with our own strengths and weaknesses. For instance, the key factors in the Caucasus are external pressure and forced caution, while in the diaspora, the primary risks are assimilation and detachment from the real processes in the homeland. This is why we need coordination and mutual support in the areas where we are most vulnerable. If the commemorative date simply repeats the same scenario year after year, without yielding new meetings, scientific research, educational projects for the youth, and active connections between historical Cherkessia and the diaspora, then we are failing to utilize its full potential.
General Organizational Conclusions
First—folk memory is alive and robust. Even under restrictions, people find ways to participate. National identity and civic consciousness remain strong within us.
Second—the geography of unity remains intact: KBR, KChR, Adygea, the Black Sea coast of Cherkessia, Turkey, Jordan, Syria, Israel, Europe, and the USA. Despite differing formats, the date itself firmly binds our divided nation.
Third—national symbolism is highly effective. Candles, flags, memorials, ancient laments, and minutes of silence are not mere decorative elements, but a living language of collective memory. However, this language requires constant reflection, exchange of experience, and annual refinement.
Fourth—May 21 is increasingly becoming not just a day of mourning, but a platform to discuss the future: language preservation, youth outreach, diaspora development, repatriation, defending historical dignity, and the nation’s right to its own voice.
Fifth—pedestrian marches and equestrian parades are not secondary details. They represent a unique, symbolic language of historical memory. For a people whose history is inextricably linked with war, exile, the road, horse culture, and a fractured geography, moving through the streets of our native cities holds sacred significance. A rally at a monument says: “We remember.” A march declares: “We continue to walk.” An equestrian column asserts: “We do not abandon our historical continuity.”
What Can Be Improved
First. In line with our previous recommendations following the Circassian Flag Day, it is essential to maintain a unified digital archive of the May 21 events (at least at the level of individual countries of residence): documenting where and how events were held, how many people participated, what key points were made, and gathering photos, videos, and media publications. This archive will become an invaluable resource for promoting national interests in international organizations, creating documentaries, academic articles, exhibitions, and organizing future large-scale events.
Second. A “day of reflection” is needed. It does not have to take place on the very next day, May 22, but it is important to conduct this analysis while memories are fresh and public resonance remains high. This should not be a formal report, but an honest, constructive analysis of what succeeded, what failed, what lessons must be learned, and what goals should be set for the coming year. This work should be carried out both in person and online, organizing joint video conferences between activists in the historical homeland and representatives of the diaspora.
Third. We need a qualitative strengthening of our work with the youth. It is not enough to simply bring young people to a rally. During these days, youth must be given space for meaningful interaction—both with one another and with the older generation. In the digital age, face-to-face dialogue with compatriots is of immense value, helping to shape national identity and strong moral compasses.
It is also crucial to involve new talented and active Circassians in public life and service to the nation. A special role here belongs to informal leaders who can serve as bridges between public organizations and those Circassians who currently remain outside the institutional environment. When organizing events, we must not limit ourselves to the “official membership lists” of various associations. We must convey to our compatriots in all countries that preserving our memory is a collective responsibility and the primary measure of our internal connection to each other and to the historical Homeland. We should not prioritize loyalty to specific organizations—our nation is far broader than any parties, funds, or cultural centers. Public structures are merely tools that must work for the benefit of the entire nation, not themselves. A tool must never become an end in itself. Activists should extend a helping hand to both fellow movement members and those Circassians not yet involved in public life. It is vital not to burden people with demands of institutional loyalty, but rather to make their participation in common causes as simple as possible, drawing them in with genuine human warmth, a low barrier to entry, and transparency of shared goals.
Fourth. We must secure agreements on routes and event programs well in advance and in a legally sound manner in all key locations—Nalchik, Cherkessk, Maykop, the Black Sea coast, and other areas of historical Circassia. This is not because public memory must “beg for permission” to exist. A mature nation is distinguished by its ability to defend its rights through legal, organizational, and disciplined means, minimizing pretexts for conflicts with the authorities. Even if activists face unreasonable resistance locally, they will have a documented record of their attempts to secure legal approval, giving them the full moral right to declare that they did everything within the bounds of the law and custom. Particular attention must be paid to restoring pedestrian marches and equestrian parades: where it is impossible to immediately return to the former scale, we should begin with shorter routes, a strictly agreed number of participants, rigorous march discipline, responsible coordinators, and clear codes of conduct.
Fifth. We need to unify the use of non-Circassian symbols during commemorative events. While we view the presence of representatives of our brother nations standing shoulder-to-shoulder with us on this day with deep respect and gratitude, we believe it is essential to prevent the dilution of the day’s core meaning and focus. May 21 is the Day of Remembrance for the Adyghs (Circassians)—victims of the Russian-Caucasian War, who were the largest ethnic group in the Caucasus at the time, offered the most stubborn resistance to the Russian Empire, were conquered last, and suffered colossal, irreparable losses. The Circassian flag is the only national symbol that united our people during those tragic years, expressing a direct historical connection to this date. Introducing other symbols inevitably dilutes the essence of the commemorations. As a compromise, we propose a format where exactly one flag is raised for each brother nation—this is entirely sufficient to demonstrate solidarity. As for the state flags of the Russian Federation, it is more appropriate to leave them strictly for official events organized by the authorities, and even there, we recommend keeping them within reasonable bounds so as not to overshadow the flag of our own people.
Conclusion
May 21 is the day when the nation acknowledges its historical wound and, in doing so, asserts its right to a future. But our memory must mature. It must not be limited to mourning, protest, or dry official protocol. It must become a school of national dignity, civic discipline, and long-term national strategy. The outcomes of this May 21 are clear: the commemorative events took place, the nation demonstrated high cohesion, and the bond between the homeland and the diaspora proved its resilience. Now, our shared task is to elevate the quality of Circassian representation in global media, work systematically to restore full formats of remembrance in Nalchik, Cherkessk, Maykop, and other cities of historical Cherkessia, and implement a coordinated strategy that brings concrete, tangible results for the entire Circassian world.
Because May 21 is not just about our attitude toward our fallen ancestors. Preserving memory must not be an end in itself. It is a question of what kind of people we want to be today and what place we will occupy in the modern world. It is vital for us to preserve the opportunity to remain Adyghs, to raise happy children on our own land, and to build a future while remembering the Homeland, protecting national interests, and consistently striving for a real opportunity for the repatriation of all our compatriots.
Адыгэ лъэпкъыр Псэущ!
Center for Strategic Studies of the Circassian Socio-Political Organization “Khabze”.