The Circassian World and Europe: Cooperation Based on Mutual Interests

From Internal Strategy to External Strategy

In the previous articles of this series, we gradually moved from geography to strategy: discussing the historical homeland, the situation of the Circassians in the Caucasus, the Black Sea coast, Kabarda, the internal resources of our people, and those opportunities capable of strengthening them over the long term. The next step here is natural. If we are striving to see our own domain anew, to grasp its strengths and vulnerabilities, and to determine what must be reinforced from within, the subsequent question arises: how do we represent, defend, and advance these interests outwardly?

Initially, this text was conceived as an overview of relations between the Circassian world and Europe. But it quickly became apparent that education, repatriation, international representation, the Black Sea coast, the training of specialists, and participation in discussions on the future of the Caucasus all converge on a broader theme: the Circassian world needs its own foreign strategy. Not a collection of random contacts, not reliance on the benevolence of individual politicians, and not the search for a new patron, but a system grounded in our own interests, capable of surviving changes in governments, alliances, and shifting international circumstances.

The Circassian world exists simultaneously across multiple state and cultural spaces. The historical homeland lies in the North Caucasus; the largest segment of the diaspora resides in Turkey; substantial communities exist in the Middle East, Europe, and North America. This dispersal arose as a consequence of the 19th-century national catastrophe, yet in the modern world, it can also become a resource. With established institutions, a single people gains access simultaneously to multiple political, academic, economic, and civic arenas.

Therefore, for us, the dialogue on Europe does not begin with the question: “Who is ready to support us?” We must begin elsewhere: what is the Circassian world itself striving to achieve, what capabilities does it lack, and where can partners be found whose interests align, at least in part, with our own? We require the preservation of our language and culture, the development of our historical homeland, expanded avenues for repatriation, professional cadres, robust institutions, participation in decisions affecting our lands and communities, and the capacity to speak to the outside world in our own voice. The European vector holds meaning precisely to the extent that it helps transform these imperatives into long-term capabilities.

The Center for Strategic Studies of the Socio-Political Organization “Khabze” proceeds from a straightforward premise: Russia has its own interests, Turkey has its own, and European states and institutions have theirs. Circassians must likewise possess their own interests and their own strategy. Politics does not begin where sympathy is promised, but where we are capable of defining our objective, discerning the interest of the other side, and identifying tangible intersections without dissolving our identity into someone else’s agenda.

Europe Not as a Replacement for Russia or Turkey, but as an Additional Pillar

A Circassian external strategy must not be framed as a forced choice between Moscow, Ankara, and Brussels. Such a dilemma merely traps us once again within another actor’s game. What is far more crucial for us is the diversification of political pillars, communication channels, expert networks, funding sources, and international partners.

Turkey occupies an exceptional position in the global Circassian world. It is home to the largest part of the diaspora; while exact modern statistics do not exist, independent estimates speak of millions of people of Circassian heritage. Turkey offered shelter to the ancestors of a vast portion of our people, and our family, cultural, and organizational ties with it are of foundational significance. However, it does not follow that the interests of the Turkish state and the Circassian people automatically coincide. Ankara, like any sovereign state, will primarily act in accordance with its own security, trade, relations with Russia, standing in the Black Sea region, energy considerations, and the regional balance of power. This is entirely natural: this is how state policy functions.

The same logic applies to Russia. The Russian state defines the Caucasus based on its own perceptions of territorial integrity, security, regional administration, infrastructure, and foreign policy. It would be naive to expect Moscow to internationally advance issues that could broaden the autonomous subjectivity of the Circassian world—such as repatriation, historical land rights, special participation in the destiny of the Black Sea coast, or international representation.

Yet it is precisely for this reason that we cannot afford to remain dependent on any single external center. If an overwhelming share of Circassian contacts, resources, and opportunities passes through a single country, any shift in that country’s domestic politics or its relations with Russia immediately constricts our field of maneuver. This is not an argument against Turkey, Russia, or Europe. It is an argument against granting any single partner a monopoly over our external communication.

In such a framework, Europe is needed not as a new protector. It is needed as another autonomous domain, home to universities, parliaments, research institutes, municipalities, human rights mechanisms, philanthropic foundations, media editorial boards, professional communities, and state institutions. Through these platforms, Circassian issues can be translated from internal conversations into international expert and political circulation. The more such channels exist, the harder it becomes to reduce the destiny of a people to relations with a single intermediary state.

We must not swap one patron for another. Our task is to progressively step out of the patronage model altogether.

A Geography That Outlasts Political Regimes

To understand why the Circassian theme can hold international significance at all, one must temporarily step back from the Circassian question per se and examine the Caucasus through the lens of political geography.

In global politics, the significance of a territory is determined not merely by its population size or surface area. At times, a relatively modest tract of land proves more consequential than a vast territory because it channels flows that cannot easily be rerouted. A maritime strait, a mountain pass, a deep-water port, a railway junction, a pipeline, or a stretch of highway becomes strategic precisely because it connects expansive regions and drastically lowers the cost of moving people, goods, energy, data, or military assets.

This is how corridors, hubs, and chokepoints come into being. A corridor connects disparate spaces. A hub links multiple trajectories. A chokepoint acquires extraordinary value wherever alternatives are scarce, slower, or cost-prohibitive. The higher the cost of bypass, the greater the political price of controlling, accessing, and securing such a passage.

The Caucasus represents a classic embodiment of this geography. The Greater Caucasus Range simultaneously divides and connects the North and the South. The Black Sea and the Caspian Sea establish its western and eastern boundaries. The South Caucasus opens pathways toward Turkey, Iran, and the broader Middle East; the Caspian provides connectivity to Central Asia; while the northern slope opens directly onto the Russian and wider Eurasian heartland. Consequently, transportation routes, mountain passes, the littoral, and infrastructural hubs in this region inevitably carry a geopolitical weight extending far beyond local economies.

States, borders, and ideological regimes rise and fall, but the physical constraints of terrain, coastlines, and mountain passes remain largely unchanged. An empire may consolidate a territory, impose administrative demarcations, or forcibly displace populations, but it cannot relocate the mountain chain, fill in the sea, or eliminate the intrinsic logic of movement.

Over the past three decades, the South Caucasus has become one of the most prominent international arenas for transit competition: the Baku–Tbilisi–Ceyhan pipeline, the Baku–Tbilisi–Kars railway, discussions surrounding the Middle Corridor, and projects connecting China and Central Asia with Europe via the Black Sea. The North Caucasus has temporarily appeared to lie on the periphery of these global conversations. However, that perception is deceptive.

Any structural crisis in the Russian south, any lasting reconfiguration of the Black Sea security architecture, or any major transformation in Eurasian trade corridors inevitably reactivates the geopolitical geography of the North Caucasus.

Historical Circassia Within This Geography

If we now refocus the lens on our historical homeland, it becomes apparent that its significance is by no means exhausted by symbolic remembrance.

In the west, historical Circassia met the northeastern Black Sea littoral. The Black Sea was never the edge of the world for Circassia; it was its conduit to it. Genoese and Venetian trading stations along the Caucasian coast, medieval engagements with Crimea and the Mediterranean, maritime commerce, and diplomatic ties all demonstrate that for centuries the coast integrated the region into wider systems of exchange. These historical contacts must not be romanticized: they involved rivalries, conflicts, and intense competition. Yet the functional role of the coast was unmistakable—it tied the Caucasian interior directly to the wider world.

At the start of the 16th century, the Genoese Giorgio Interiano penned one of the most renowned European accounts of the Circassians, noting that the people whom their neighbors called Circassians referred to themselves in their own language as “Adyghe.” That document from 1502 already demonstrates how long ago outside European observation intersected with the indigenous self-designation of our people.

In the interior of the region, Kabarda occupied a singular position. In previous articles, we analyzed it as a strategic hub of the Central Caucasus primarily from within the Caucasus itself. But that identical geography assumes additional significance when viewed from the outside. The Central Caucasus is not simply a habitat for local peoples; it is a system of approaches to the mountain ridge, valleys, passes, and north-south conduits. The historic Daryal Gorge is one of the most famous examples of how a specific mountain passage acquired centuries of importance due to the acute scarcity of accessible transit routes.

One must not, of course, mechanically proclaim modern Kabarda a transit corridor on par with the Suez Canal or the Zangezur corridor. The primary international routes linking Europe and Central Asia currently run predominantly south of the Greater Caucasus. Yet it does not follow that the political geography of the North Caucasus has vanished. Strategic significance is defined not by a single contemporary roadway, but by positioning within a broader system: the Black Sea coast, central passes, the Russian south, and links to the South Caucasus and the Caspian. The ports of the Azov-Black Sea basin—the historic Circassian littoral—handle roughly 35% of Russia’s total maritime freight turnover, acting as its primary southern commercial gateway. Through these ports flows the vast majority of the country’s grain exports (up to 70–80%) and approximately 25% of all seaborne shipments of Russian crude oil and petroleum products. On the import side, Black Sea terminals account for 10–15% of total freight volume, receiving industrial machinery, raw materials, and foodstuffs from Asia and the Middle East.

Circassia matters not because Circassians decided to declare it important. It sits inside a geographic space whose significance is forged by geography itself. Yet because Circassians exist, maintain living ties to this land, and regard it as their historical homeland, a secondary question inevitably arises: can the long-term future of this space be contemplated as though its historical indigenous nation did not exist?

Today, Circassians do not independently control the Black Sea coast, transport corridors, or regional infrastructure. Along a substantial portion of the historical coast, our numbers remain small. That is the reality, and it would be pointless to deny it. However, the current distribution of population and power is by no means the only possible historical horizon. The Circassian factor is defined not merely by current administrative control over territory, but by the convergence of historical attachment, the surviving population in the homeland, a multi-million-strong diaspora, a shared collective identity, and the enduring idea of return.

Circassia Enters High European Politics

The European diplomatic history of the Circassians did not originate in the 21st century. As early as the 16th century, members of the Circassian nobility—including Kabardian princes and their warriors—established ties with the Polish-Lithuanian political realm; this presence gave rise to the historical Pyatigorsk military formations within the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth. While this did not yet constitute a unified national diplomacy, such engagements demonstrate that Caucasian representatives sought strategic partnerships far beyond their immediate perimeter.

In the 19th century, the Polish orientation acquired a different character. Following the Uprising of 1830–1831, the émigré circle around Prince Adam Jerzy Czartoryski viewed the Caucasus as a crucial front in countering the Russian Empire. Władysław Zamoyski took part in outfitting the expedition of the schooner “Vixen”; in 1844, Ludwik Zwierkowski was dispatched to the Shapsugs; and in 1857, a detachment led by Teofil Łapiński arrived in Circassia. The Polish participants were primarily driven by the restoration of their own statehood; the Circassians, by the defense of their homeland. Even then, cooperation was built not upon identical ultimate goals, but upon their temporary strategic convergence.

Russian expansion across the Northwestern Caucasus coincided with fierce European rivalries over the Black Sea, the Ottoman Empire, and overland routes to Asia. Circassia became a regular subject in European newspapers, parliamentary debates, diplomatic cables, and travel accounts. David Urquhart, James Stanislaus Bell, John Longworth, and other British authors brought the Circassian cause vividly before the European public. When Russian authorities seized the “Vixen” off the Circassian coast in 1836, the dispute quickly escalated beyond the fate of a single vessel: at stake were the sovereign status of Circassia, Russia’s legal right to blockade its shores, and the validity of Russian territorial claims.

For us, it is particularly crucial to understand why Europe engaged with Circassia. For the Circassians themselves, the struggle was about their homeland. For external powers, it was simultaneously about naval mastery of the Black Sea, containing Russian expansion, preserving the Ottoman Empire, protecting commercial interests, and securing pathways to Asia. An alignment of interests facilitated collaboration, but it never merged disparate objectives into a single common purpose.

In the “Declaration of Independence of Circassia to the Courts of Europe,” published in 1836, a profound question was posed: “Who has the power to surrender us?” Its significance reaches far beyond a specific historical diplomatic dispute. It poses the fundamental question of whether the destiny of a nation can be decided solely by agreements brokered between foreign powers.

The aftermath of the Crimean War is especially instructive. On May 5, 1856, in the House of Commons, Lord John Manners accused the British government of having entered into relations with Circassian leaders during the war, utilizing their armed resistance against Russia, only to abandon them once peace was secured. He compared such treatment to casting aside a “squeezed orange.” This was the critique of an opposition politician, not an unassailable summary of British policy, and his assertions were contested. Yet the very existence of such a debate remains profoundly important: within the legislature of a major European power, the moral and strategic legitimacy of treating a small nation as a dispensable instrument of temporary statecraft was openly interrogated.

In 1862, Circassian delegates traveled to Great Britain once again, yet international interest failed to materialize into tangible guarantees capable of averting catastrophe. Thus emerges the supreme historical lesson: diplomacy was conducted, the press reported, parliamentarians debated, sympathizers organized—and none of it saved Circassia.

The lesson of the past is not that external engagement is futile. The lesson is far sterner: an alignment of interests is advantageous; the conflation of interests is catastrophic. A partner may genuinely support us while pursuing their own objectives. The crisis begins when a temporary convergence is mistaken for a permanent alliance, or when our own agenda is unconsciously subsumed into the strategic design of another.

What Europe Might Need from the Circassian World

If we wish to speak with Europe not as supplicants, we must provide an honest answer to the inverse question: what can European states, institutions, and societies gain from engaging with an organized Circassian world?

First — Regional knowledge. The North Caucasus frequently enters the international information landscape through wars, violence, radicalization, or crises. Consequently, between major flashpoints, the region remains largely invisible, and outside knowledge of its societies tends to be superficial. Circassian researchers, journalists, jurists, entrepreneurs, and public figures are capable of offering a far deeper understanding of local politics, demographics, historical memory, intercommunal dynamics, emerging opportunities, and risks. However, this becomes a strategic asset only when such knowledge is structured professionally: through rigorous research, databases, English-language materials, verified methodology, and an untarnished reputation.

Second — Transnational networks. The Circassian world bridges the Caucasus, Turkey, Europe, the Middle East, and North America. Such channels can prove invaluable for academic partnerships, public diplomacy, cultural initiatives, professional linkages, and navigating societies with which European institutions rarely maintain direct, day-to-day engagement.

Third — The availability of legitimate and predictable interlocutors. During times of crisis, outside actors almost inevitably seek individuals and institutions capable of interpreting unfolding developments, articulating the interests of their communities, and adhering to agreements. For any international partner, it is far more advantageous to deal with professional, lawful institutions than to discover the national question solely in the heat of conflict. Therefore, responsible, non-violent, and professional representation constitutes a major political asset in its own right.

Fourth — The human capital of the diaspora. Sheer numbers do not automatically equate to organized leverage, yet millions of individuals of Circassian descent—particularly across Turkey—form a potentially formidable network. Among them are business executives, technical specialists, scholars, senior civil servants, public figures, and individuals fully integrated into the political life of their respective home countries. Today, this potential is not yet assembled into a unified institutional system, and one must avoid portraying it as an existing, monolithic “Circassian bloc.” Nonetheless, the capacity for institutional mobilization is of profound strategic relevance.

Fifth — Regional stability. Europe maintains a vital interest in Black Sea security, predictable lines of communication, the protection of critical infrastructure, conflict mitigation, and the stable development of neighboring regions. Within this logic, the presence of robust national institutions capable of articulating legitimate interests through legal channels and negotiating constructively is not a liability, but an essential component of long-term stability. Ignoring unresolved national questions does not make them disappear; it merely ensures that they will re-emerge later in far more contentious and volatile forms.

Finally, there is a sixth dimension — strategic optionality. International statecraft is compelled to calculate not only what is already an active geopolitical force, but also what possesses the capacity to become one should circumstances shift. The Circassian factor is currently constrained by institutional fragmentation and dispersed resources. Yet geography, a living people, the diaspora, collective memory, and the enduring idea of return exist independently of the current degree of political mobilization. For an external geopolitical analyst, this carries a clear implication: the current weakness of the Circassian factor by no means guarantees its permanent irrelevance.

Current Weakness Does Not Signify an Absence of Potential

Here it is essential to avoid wishful thinking or self-deception. Today, the Circassian world does not constitute a unified, organized geopolitical subject capable of expressing a singular political will on behalf of millions of people. There exists no unified representative mechanism, no harmonized foreign policy platform, and our independent expert institutes, funding bases, cadre pools, and permanent international presence remain insufficient.

Yet the absence of organization is a variable, not a fixed law of nature.

We possess a historical homeland and an indigenous population residing upon it. We possess an expansive diaspora. We maintain an enduring endonym and shared historical memory. We have established civic organizations across multiple countries. We hold the living imperative of return to the homeland. We maintain extensive familial, commercial, cultural, and professional ties spanning multiple states. And we possess a legitimate historical claim to take part in determining the future of the territory with which our people are inextricably linked by lineage and memory.

The experience of recent decades demonstrates that even a fragile organizational infrastructure can activate rapidly when a political window opens. The 2014 Sochi Winter Olympics served as precisely such a brief window for Circassian activists: a subject previously invisible to the global audience suddenly captured international attention. While this episode did not result in permanent international agency, it vividly demonstrated the underlying mechanism—a major event can dramatically accelerate the visibility and salience of an existing identity and agenda.

Thus, our primary deficit is not an absence of resources per se, but an inability to assemble them into an enduring institutional architecture. A clear distinction must be made between raw resources and actual capability. Millions of individuals represent a resource; disciplined organization, sustainable funding, professional expertise, a clear mandate, strategic communication, and institutional memory are what transform that resource into political capability.

Bridging this gap between latent potential and an active geopolitical factor must become one of the cornerstone objectives of Circassian strategy.

Not Only Utility, but the Cost of Being Ignored

Political weight is measured not solely by what an actor can offer a partner. At times, it is equally determined by the political and reputational costs incurred by completely ignoring that actor.

Today, Circassians do not possess a formal legal veto over infrastructural and economic decisions concerning the northeastern Black Sea littoral or the North Caucasus. It would be disingenuous to claim otherwise. Yet between the absence of a formal veto and total political invisibility lies an expansive spectrum of operational possibilities.

An organized nation possesses the capacity to steadily elevate the political price of decisions that disregard its vital interests: by forcing public expert debate, uniting scholars and legal advocates, utilizing domestic and international legal mechanisms where viable, forging transnational coalitions, documenting project impacts, commanding media scrutiny, shaping public opinion, and presenting rigorous alternative proposals. This does not guarantee immediate victory, nor does it substitute for sovereign state power. But it makes the complete neglect of our interests far less convenient and substantially more costly for any external power.

Therefore, it is more precise to speak not of a “blocking power,” but of the steady development of a necessity for consultation and consensus. The more professional Circassian institutions become, the wider their international partnerships, and the more rigorously substantiated their positions, the more rational it becomes for external actors to account for them proactively, rather than face friction, delays, and reputational damage after decisions are made.

Our strategic benchmark here is simple: major undertakings affecting historical Circassia must no longer be handled by default as though the Circassian people possess no legitimate standing, interests, or representation. Achieving this requires not louder rhetoric, but the steady accumulation of institutional competencies, strategic alliances, and diplomatic credibility.

From the Right to Be Present to Meaningful Benefit-Sharing

Hitherto, the Circassian discourse concerning our territory has centered primarily upon memory, the trauma of exile, repatriation, and cultural preservation. All of these retain fundamental importance. Yet if we are to speak of political agency in earnest, an additional question must be confronted: what role should the Circassian people play in the economic destiny of their historical territory?

The northeastern Black Sea littoral is not merely a memorial landscape. It is home to vital deep-water ports, transit arteries, expanding tourism, land, real estate, communications, natural resources, and potential future trade corridors. Economic value is continuously generated across this geography. This raises a fundamental question of principle: should a people, a vast portion of whom was historically driven from this territory, remain forever sidelined as passive onlookers to its economic exploitation?

We believe this question must be unequivocally raised.

At the same time, we must maintain rigorous legal precision. Today, there exists no automatic, self-executing international statute granting Circassian organizations a predetermined share of revenues derived from ports, railways, pipelines, tourism complexes, or other ventures within historical Circassia. International indigenous rights frameworks do, however, contain vital legal standards regarding ancestral lands, resources, mandatory consultation, restitution, and participation in decisions impacting traditional territories. The UN Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples, for example, enshrines the principles of profound attachment to ancestral domains, redress for dispossession, and free, prior, and informed consultation on initiatives affecting such lands. Nevertheless, the direct application of these principles to specific Circassian claims demands rigorous, dedicated international legal scholarship.

For this reason, it is far more critical today to articulate the foundational political principle than to improvise non-existent legal mechanisms.

Our principle is this: the economic development of historical Circassia must, in the long term, directly benefit the Circassian people. Such benefit can materialize through multiple tangible avenues: representative participation in evaluating major infrastructural initiatives; the protection of environmental and cultural heritage; targeted capital investment in areas of compact Circassian settlement; educational and linguistic endowments; funded repatriation and integration programs; institutional support for local entrepreneurship; environmental monitoring; and, as legal and political conditions mature, formalized benefit-sharing mechanisms—ensuring a rightful share of the returns generated by the utilization of regional lands and assets.

Globally, diverse governance models exist wherein indigenous and dispossessed communities secure not merely passive compensation for historical grievances, but an enduring stake in resource and infrastructure projects: regional development trusts, community benefit agreements, equity partnerships, guaranteed training and employment quotas, and dedicated financial instruments. We do not advocate the uncritical transplantation of foreign models onto Caucasian realities. But the fundamental premise—that an indigenous nation possesses an inalienable right to share in the economic life of its ancestral lands—is universally recognized in modern international norms and warrants rigorous formulation in the Circassian context.

Today, the realization of such a demand is heavily constrained by prevailing political and legal realities. Yet the temporary lack of an enforcement mechanism by no means diminishes the legitimacy of our claim. Stating this position politically is indispensable as a strategic marker for the future. If conditions shift in ten or twenty years, the Circassian world must not have to begin the conversation from scratch, struggling to prove that it ever regarded itself as a legitimate stakeholder.

Historical Circassia is not solely the sanctuary of our collective memory. It is the enduring arena of our long-term cultural, political, and economic interests.

Europe as a Forum for Advancing the Circassian Agenda

It is precisely here that the immediate connection between these strategic questions and Europe comes to light.

Most of the issues raised here are currently absent from mainstream international discourse. Repatriation is debated almost exclusively within the Circassian world itself; the significance of historical Circassia in the political geography of the Black Sea remains virtually unexamined abroad; the concept of economic benefit-sharing for our people in their ancestral territory has barely begun to be articulated; and knowledge regarding contemporary Circassian communities within Europe remains fragmented.

Engaging with Europe is not about “outsourcing” these responsibilities to European powers; it is about establishing robust external platforms where these questions can be subjected to serious research, debate, and institutional consideration. This distinction is paramount. We do not seek to have others draft our national agenda. We seek to ensure that our own agenda possesses viable external pathways into the global arena.

The internationalization of a political issue rarely begins with a parliamentary resolution. The trajectory is typically much longer: first comes an articulated concept; then rigorous scholarly research; legal and policy briefs; academic publications; symposia; dedicated university programs; the cultivation of informed specialists, journalists, and human rights advocates; outreach to parliamentarians; engagement with government ministries; and consultation with multilateral institutions. Only through this cumulative progression can a subject enter formal diplomatic discourse and negotiation agendas.

This is precisely why European engagement holds strategic value. It offers access to an environment where issues can be systematically developed, documented, and placed upon the international agenda long before formal diplomatic opportunities arise.

To achieve this, however, we must clearly grasp what Europe represents and how to engage with it effectively.

Europe Is Not a Monolith

The expression “working with Europe” is far too vague to serve as a meaningful strategy. Europe is neither a single state nor a unified ideological bloc. It is a complex landscape comprising EU institutions, national governments, regional authorities, parliaments, courts, universities, foundations, research centers, and media organizations.

Different actors operate according to fundamentally different institutional logics:

National governments and diplomatic establishments prioritize geopolitical stability, trade relations, energy security, and bilateral ties with regional powers. European parliamentary bodies, human rights institutions (such as the Council of Europe), and international organizations focus on human rights standards, indigenous rights frameworks, cultural heritage, minority protections, and international law. Academic institutions, think tanks, and philanthropic foundations are guided by research depth, verified data, intellectual rigor, and institutional capacity.

Working effectively with Europe means abandoning broad, generic appeals to “Europe as a whole” and learning to identify which specific institutional tier corresponds to which specific task.

European Circassians as an Infrastructure of Presence

A European strategy does not start from a blank slate. Thousands of Circassians already live across European countries: in Germany, France, the Netherlands, Austria, Belgium, the United Kingdom, and other states.

Many have completed European university educations, speak European languages, work within European legal systems, build businesses, and understand local political and administrative cultures from within.

This community is not merely an émigré diaspora. It represents an organic bridge between the Caucasus, the broader Middle Eastern diaspora, and European public life.

The strategic task is to assist this community in moving from informal social circles to structured, professional organizations capable of acting as credible interlocutors before European institutions.

From Diaspora to Functional Division of Labor

The geographic dispersal of a people can be a debilitating weakness if each community lives entirely isolated in its local context. But it can also become a formidable advantage if an intelligent division of functional labor is established between its parts.

Today, the Circassian world possesses three primary geographic centers:

The historical homeland in the Caucasus is the irreplaceable spiritual and territorial anchor of our identity, demographic continuity, and indigenous rights. Turkey is the massive demographic, social, and cultural powerhouse of the diaspora. Europe provides direct access to international legal, academic, political, and institutional resources.

When these three centers operate without coordination, they easily drift into divergent political trajectories. But when they coordinate, a powerful division of labor emerges:

The homeland articulates its core needs and maintains demographic grounding; the Turkish diaspora provides large-scale civic mobilization and regional reach; while European organizations formulate international legal dossiers, conduct research, engage multilateral institutions, and secure external platforms for the national agenda.

Agency Requires Dedicated Cadres and Institutions

The most advantageous geography provides nothing to a nation if it lacks individuals capable of analyzing it, formulating demands, and engaging in negotiations.

If the Circassian world aspires to be taken seriously as a political actor, it must consciously invest in cultivating specialized human capital:

International lawyers specializing in public international law, indigenous rights, and maritime law; political analysts fluent in European foreign policy dynamics; economists trained in regional infrastructure and resource economics; professional translators and communicators capable of presenting arguments in major European languages without relying on intermediaries.

This requires moving beyond volunteer enthusiasm toward permanent, funded institutions.

A serious political presence cannot be maintained solely through volunteer activism on weekends. It requires research centers, full-time staff, dedicated operational budgets, and systematic archives.

The benchmark of political maturity is the capacity to fund one’s own institutions rather than continually seeking external patronage.

Who Speaks on Behalf of the Circassians?

As our political demands grow more consequential, the question of representative legitimacy becomes unavoidable.

In international politics, one cannot simply declare oneself the “representative of a nation” without demonstrable legitimacy and a transparent mandate.

When self-appointed spokespersons make sweeping, contradictory statements on behalf of the entire people, it generates confusion among external partners and undermines the credibility of the entire Circassian cause.

Legitimacy must be grounded in reality: in demonstrable connections to existing communities, in transparent governance within organizations, in adherence to legal procedures, and in the capacity to deliver on commitments.

We do not need a monolithic, bureaucratic apparatus that attempts to command every aspect of life. We need a transparent coalition mechanism wherein independent organizations agree on common red lines, define specific mandates for external engagement, and coordinate on core strategic priorities.

Independence Is Measured by the Capacity to Choose Partners

External activity holds genuine value only when the Circassian party preserves its operational independence.

A nation that aligns itself unconditionally with a single external patron ceases to be an independent political actor and becomes a disposable asset.

Real political independence is demonstrated not by loud anti-imperialist rhetoric, but by the tangible capacity to say “no” to unacceptable conditions, to evaluate partnerships through the lens of national interests, and to engage across multiple diplomatic vectors simultaneously.

We must avoid becoming trapped in ideological dogmatism. In international affairs, interests evolve, regimes change, and yesterday’s adversaries may become necessary interlocutors tomorrow.

The golden rule of Circassian foreign strategy must be: keep all viable communication channels open, never surrender strategic autonomy, and preserve the freedom to choose partners based on mutual benefit.

Understanding Foreign Policy Is Imperative Within the Homeland as Well

Foreign strategy cannot remain the exclusive preserve of the diaspora. People living on the historical homeland must equally understand the mechanisms of international politics.

When the homeland and the diaspora operate under completely different informational paradigms, mutual suspicion inevitably arises. The diaspora may accuse the homeland of excessive caution; the homeland may accuse the diaspora of unrealistic radicalism disconnected from local dangers.

Overcoming this rift requires continuous, mature dialogue. Communities at home must understand how international institutions function and how external diplomacy can protect local interests. Conversely, the diaspora must maintain an acute, nuanced sensitivity to the legal, political, and physical constraints under which people live in the Caucasus.

National strategy is robust only when external initiatives directly reinforce internal resilience, rather than jeopardize it.

Repatriation as a Practical Test of Agency

Repatriation is one of the pivotal issues where symbolic politics collides immediately with practical administrative realities.

For generations, repatriation has been discussed primarily as a moral right. And it remains an unassailable moral and historical right. But a right that possesses no practical mechanism of implementation remains an abstract aspiration.

Turning repatriation into a functioning reality requires immense legal, diplomatic, and logistical work: bilateral agreements on citizenship, legal residency pathways, property rights, language instruction, professional certification recognition, economic adaptation programs, and humanitarian coordination during regional crises.

European institutions and international migration bodies have developed sophisticated frameworks and protocols for voluntary return, resettlement, and integration. Engaging with these mechanisms can help Circassian organizations translate repatriation from a purely rhetorical appeal into a structured, internationally recognized policy program.

If we cannot manage the practical return and integration of even a few hundred families during an acute crisis, claims of mass repatriation will remain unconvincing to the outside world.

Helping Compatriots Preserve Their Potential in Europe

European Circassian organizations are equally vital for those compatriots who have recently arrived in Europe—whether from the homeland, Syria, or elsewhere.

When arriving in a new country, people face immediate challenges: legal regularization, language barriers, employment, credential recognition, and cultural integration. If left entirely alone, they risk marginalization or gradual cultural assimilation.

Community organizations can provide legal aid, language training, networking, and cultural preservation, helping newcomers become productive citizens of their host nations while remaining active participants in the global Circassian community.

From Personal Acquaintances to a System of Political Communication

One of the chronic vulnerabilities of civic movements is the personalization of external relations. One activist knows a member of parliament; another knows a professor; a third knows an officer at a foundation. Then careers shift, activists step down, personal ties dissolve, and everything must be rebuilt from scratch.

What is needed is institutional memory: an active partner registry, contact histories, a political calendar, correspondence archives, formal agreements, designated portfolios, and structured handover procedures. Sensitive data must be securely preserved, ensuring it does not disappear with the departure of the person who established the contact.

Initially, having strong organizations in several key countries is sufficient. Subsequently, a coordinated network can be developed across functional lines—repatriation, education, Black Sea affairs, research, language preservation, human rights, and economic development. When a steady workflow of tasks emerges, it creates the objective foundation for professional, compensated roles.

We do not need an ephemeral collection of personal acquaintances with influential individuals; we need a resilient institutional system that outlasts the individuals who inhabit it.

Not Betting the Nation’s Future on a Single Scenario

No one can forecast with certainty what Russia will look like in ten or twenty years. It may remain a highly centralized state, embark upon structural reforms, partially normalize relations with European nations, persist in protracted confrontation, or undergo an internal systemic crisis. Between these polar possibilities lies an expansive spectrum of intermediate trajectories.

In precisely the same manner, it is impossible to predict the future evolution of Turkey, the enduring scale of American engagement in the region, which transport corridors will become paramount for Europe, or how the Black Sea security architecture will be reconfigured.

A responsible national strategy must never be engineered to function exclusively under a single desirable scenario.

If an educational initiative retains utility only after the potential dissolution of Russia, it is a fundamentally fragile program. If a repatriation dossier is operable solely amidst acute confrontation between Moscow and Europe, its scope is dangerously narrow. If relations with Europe possess value only as long as Europe remains locked in conflict with Russia, we are once again constructing our national strategy upon the fleeting geopolitical convenience of outside powers.

The most robust initiatives are those that retain intrinsic value across all potential scenarios: well-trained specialists, independent research centers, language preservation projects, rigorous legal expertise, transnational networks, archival infrastructure, sovereign funding mechanisms, professional negotiators, strategic interest mapping, and the agility to formulate rapid, authoritative positions.

Genuine strategy is not a gamble on a single forecast. It is the deliberate expansion of the repertoire of viable options at our disposal across multiple possible futures.

From Ambition to Real Capability

All the imperatives outlined above will remain hollow words if they cannot be evaluated against tangible, measurable benchmarks.

In the immediate term, we can construct an actionable European partner map; initiate a professional repatriation dossier; compile a modern directory of diaspora expertise; produce authoritative English-language materials on historical Circassia and the Black Sea coast; commission a comparative study on indigenous benefit-sharing frameworks in infrastructure and resource development; and launch a training program for future negotiators.

On a three-to-five-year horizon, our standards must become substantially more rigorous: Do permanent university linkages exist? Are regular English-language policy studies being published? Have certified specialists emerged in European policy, international law, infrastructural economics, and repatriation? Is at least one Circassian agenda item firmly embedded in mainstream European expert and political discourse? Are community organizations capable of jointly formulating a focused mandate and conducting formal negotiations on its basis?

On a ten-to-fifteen-year horizon, the ultimate metric is not isolated breakthroughs, but institutional reproducibility: Do specialists effectively transmit their knowledge to the next generation? Does an organization survive leadership transitions without forfeiting its institutional ties? Can core operations sustain themselves without relying on a single external grant? Do autonomous endowment funds, research archives, qualified personnel, and enduring public credibility exist?

It is precisely here that the true merit of the entire European vector is tested. If after several years all that remains are commemorative photographs, loud proclamations, and fleeting acquaintances with a handful of politicians, the political window has been squandered. If, however, there remain seasoned specialists, rigorous research, active university programs, functioning organizations, comprehensive legal dossiers, negotiation experience, sovereign funding, and a substantive, respected presence for the Circassian question within the European domain—then that window was utilized with wisdom and strategic purpose.

Preserving Agency as a Fundamental Principle

The history of Circassian relations with Europe spans centuries. Europe has repeatedly demonstrated an interest in Circassia, yet all too frequently Circassia acquired prominence merely because it occupied a tactical square on someone else’s chessboard. Some viewed it as a barrier to Russian expansion; others, as a commercial trading space; still others, as a romantic symbol of resistance. For the Circassians themselves, however, the struggle was always about their own country and the survival of their own people.

Today the geopolitical landscape is different, but the fundamental dynamic remains unchanged. Russia pursues its own strategy. Turkey pursues its own. European states, the United States, and other major powers pursue their distinct interests across the Black Sea and the Caucasus. We should not demand that they abandon their own interests. We must simply resolve never again to surrender our own.

Europe is important to us not because it is obligated to solve the Circassian question, nor because European interests will permanently align with ours. It is important as an additional space of resources, knowledge, institutions, and political communication through which we can internationally advance our own vital themes: repatriation, historical land rights, the Black Sea coast, language preservation, education, legitimate representation, economic participation, and the inalienable right of our people to be heard when the future of their homeland is decided.

Concurrently, we must articulate clearly to our European partners that the Circassian world is far more than an object of historical memory. It is a transnational nation inextricably bound to a region of paramount strategic consequence, capable of providing critical knowledge, extensive partner networks, and legitimate interlocutors—and, with sufficient organizational maturity, capable of generating significant political and reputational costs for any decisions that completely disregard its interests.

Yet the weight of a geopolitical factor is never simply proclaimed—it must be forged. Institutions cannot be substituted with the boastful numbers of the diaspora. Professional legal positioning cannot be replaced by historical grievance. Participation in economic benefits cannot be demanded without viable, workable models. Representation cannot be claimed without a transparent mandate. And one cannot speak of an independent foreign policy while remaining financially and intellectually dependent on a single foreign patron.

Nearly two centuries ago, Circassian envoys asked Europe: “Who has the power to surrender us?” Today, the question must be posed differently: who should determine our national agenda?

For us, the answer is self-evident: we ourselves.

Yet that answer is worth something only when it is backed by the capacity to conduct rigorous research, to crunch the data, to train legal advocates and skilled negotiators, to finance independent institutions, to formulate concrete demands, to select partners judiciously, to say “no” to unacceptable terms, and to offer mutually beneficial cooperation wherever genuine interests intersect.

We must define our own interests, our own proposals, and the precise limits of our consent well in advance. We must reintroduce the Circassian factor into serious international diplomacy not through the volume of our declarations, but through the supreme quality of our organization. And should historical Circassia once again become the arena of intense economic and geopolitical competition, the Circassian people must never find themselves in the position of passive spectators learning of decisions only after they have already been made.

Political subjectivity begins not with a declaration of independence, but with the capacity to act independently. It is toward the cultivation of this capacity that we must now work together.

Adyghe lhepqyr pseusch!

Center for Strategic Studies of the Circassian Socio-Political Organization “Khabze”.