A people without a homeland
How Circassians preserve the memory of their tragic past, and why the state is increasingly uncomfortable with it.

🔸The memory of the Russo-Caucasian War and deportation remains the core of Circassian identity, despite pressure from the state.
"The history of our people is divided into two periods: before and after this war. Before the war, the Circassians lived in a single territory, sharing a common culture and language. Afterward, 90% were exterminated or expelled from their lands."
The Circassian diaspora is one of the largest and most widely dispersed communities in the world. Repatriation to their homeland is difficult: the "Compatriots" program does not cover Circassians, and independent return is fraught with legal and social difficulties.
"I heard Circassian speech all around me and thought: this is home. But soon I realized: we are guests here. We have no rights, and they are trying to take away our language."
🔸Russian authorities seek to hush up the issue, excluding it from educational and public discourse. The state does not recognize the Circassian genocide, likely fearing political repercussions and the undermining of the historical myth.
“Recognition would require a rethinking of history and public repentance, and a system based on the myth of exceptionalism and a civilizing mission is incapable of this.”
Eighteen people were detained: eight in Nalchik, ten in Maykop. The punishment is lenient by today's standards: all were charged with "participating in unauthorized public events." have given Three to ten days of arrest. This was the first time this had happened at the Circassian Remembrance Day march.
Every year, the holding of such events in Russia faces challenges increasingly harsh restrictions. Despite this, people continue to come out. In 2025, there were so many participants that the sidewalks couldn't accommodate the column. According to media reports, the rally participated about two thousand people.
Processions take place in all countries of the world where Circassians live, annually on May 21. It was on this day in 1864 that the Russian Empire held a parade commemorating its final victory in Russo-Caucasian War (1763–1864) — one of the most One of the longest and bloodiest military campaigns in the history of Russia's imperial expansion. For St. Petersburg—then the imperial capital—this symbolized the completion of the "development" of the Caucasus. For the Circassians, it marked the beginning of expulsion and mass death.
The war lasted for over a century and engulfed the entire Caucasus—from Chechnya and Dagestan to Circassia and Abkhazia. But it was the Circassians who suffered largest Losses. Historians estimate that up to 90% of the Circassian population was expelled or perished during a century of fighting and large-scale deportations. Today, these events are increasingly referred to as the Circassian genocide, but in Russia itself, the term remains officially unrecognized.
"NeMoskva" explores how an exiled people preserves the memory of the war, whether their native land awaits their return, and why the state prefers to keep these pages of its history silent.
We are not disclosing the names of most of our interviewees at their request for security reasons.
"How the Russo-Caucasian War Changed My People"
A special place in the memory of the Circassians is Krasnaya Polyana near Sochi: it was there that the imperial army held a parade to mark the end of the war 161 years ago. And that's why the 2014 Olympics in Sochi caused such a stir disturbance Circassian diasporas and led to protests around the world.
"[The Olympics] are being held on the bones of a massacred people. This is no coincidence, but a way to permanently consolidate territory and erase historical memory," says historian and Circassian activist Martin Kochesoko. "From a moral standpoint, this is a mockery."

Martin Kochesoko is originally from Kabardino-Balkaria. Conversations about the Russo-Caucasian War were part of everyday life in his family, which ultimately influenced his choice of education—history.
Before the war in Ukraine, Martin lived and worked in Russia, researching history and Circassian identity. In 2019, he was charged with drug possession and given a three-year suspended sentence. Human rights activists at the time deemed the case fabricated, as did the Memorial Center. recognized Kochesko political prisoners.
After the war in Ukraine began, Martin left Russia. He lived in Turkey and then moved to Europe. In 2023, he was designated a "foreign agent," and in March 2025, announced the on the federal wanted list.

"The history of our people is divided into two periods: before and after this war," the activist says. "Before the war, the Circassians lived in a single territory, sharing a common culture and language. Afterward, 90% were exterminated or driven from their lands. Those who remained were artificially divided into Shapsugs, Adyghe, Circassians, and Kabardians, although in reality we are one people, calling ourselves Adyghe."
Kochesoko is convinced that the Russian Empire's military strategy in the Caucasus was dictated less by security considerations than by geopolitical calculations. The empire wanted access to the Black Sea, and to achieve this, the Circassian lands needed to be liberated from the indigenous population. Today, the historian notes, through the former Adyghe territories—the Krasnodar ports of Novorossiysk and Tuapse— passes up to a third of Russia's seaborne oil exports.

The tragedy that is not spoken about
According to various estimates, between 600,000 and 1.5 million people lived in Circassia before the war. After the war and the subsequent deportation to the Ottoman Empire, between 30,000 and 150,000 remained in their homeland, according to various sources. Between 800,000 and 1 million people were expelled, of whom, according to researchers, between 200,000 and 400,000 died from hunger, disease, and exhaustion.

American explorer Walter Richmond in a book The Circassian Genocide writes: "This war was more than just a conflict. It was a planned and systematic attempt to cleanse the region of its indigenous population. Hundreds of thousands died of starvation, disease, and hypothermia. Bodies lay for weeks along the shores of the Black Sea—there was no one to bury them." The survivors were forced to flee their homeland and settle in the Ottoman Empire—in what is now Turkey, Jordan, Syria, and other Middle Eastern countries.
Alexander Okhtov, President of the Federal National-Cultural Autonomy of the Adyghe People of Russia, считает, that the events of the 19th century undoubtedly fall under the definition of genocide: "Russian generals not only expelled the Circassians, but also physically exterminated them. Hundreds of villages with civilian populations were burned. They killed everyone—women, children, the elderly. They burned crops, cut down orchards, so that there would be no chance of return. The mass extermination of civilians—isn't that genocide? It was the systematic extermination of a people for the sake of seizing land."
A saying attributed to the Russian military command, "We need Circassia, not the Circassians," has been preserved in Circassian historical memory, says Okhtov. Therefore, he, like a number of other Circassian researchers, calls that war "Russian-Circassian."
There's no consensus among Russian historians on this issue. For example, Krasnodar researcher Irina Skibitskaya считает, that the empire's primary goal was border security, not the extermination of the population. She insists on a distinction: what happened to the Circassians— ethnic cleansing, not genocide.

Russian textbooks tell a fragmented and distorted story about the Russo-Caucasian War, ignoring the topic of deportations, violence, colonization policies, and the internal diversity of the Caucasus, notes historian and educator Sergei Manyshev. article "The Caucasian War: A Federal Textbook Perspective." The books repeat the Soviet narrative and avoid controversial topics: the positive significance of the "inclusion" of the Caucasus into Russia is emphasized, while the negative consequences and resistance of local peoples are ignored.
In the textbook History of Russia. Grade 9 (Arsenyev N.M., Danilov A.A., Levandovsky A.A., Tokarev A.Ya.) speaks of the war in the spirit of Soviet historiography: "the inclusion of the mountainous regions of the Caucasus into the Russian Empire had a positive impact on the local population." They also assert that "industrial production" came to these very regions, which, as Manyshev writes, "is already completely beyond the realm of fantasy."
In the textbook History of Russia. 1801–1914 (Soloviev K.A., Shevyrev A.P.) Among the reasons for the war, the authors name “the need to have secure communications” with the Transcaucasian territories and the unwillingness of the peoples of the North Caucasus “to submit to Russian power.”
In the textbook History of Russia: XIX – early XX centuries (L.M. Lyashenko, O.V. Volobuev, E.V. Simonova) cite "St. Petersburg's disregard for the religious and national traditions of the mountain peoples of the Caucasus" as the reason, but the nature of this disregard is not specified. Moreover, Manyshev notes, the book's account of the Russo-Caucasian War is "super-laconic, covering just over half a page."
"From above," teachers are advised "not to raise sensitive issues," and students are strongly advised not to attend memorial events, says Hamza, an activist from Nalchik.
"Children don't know anything, parents are afraid," he continues. "That's how identity is lost."
"The most offensive thing is the wording. We're taught that there was a 'Caucasian' war, as if the Circassians were fighting themselves. This is an attempt to erase memory." — states Aslan, one of the student organizers of the memorial procession.
The march on Remembrance Day for those who died for the freedom of Circassia is held every year. Rallies are organized in all countries where Circassians live. In their native Caucasus, thousands of people have always gathered, journalist and author of the Circassian Media channel Aidamir Kazanoko tells NeMoskva. In the early years, he recalls, the authorities were tolerant; sometimes officials even marched alongside the activists.
The 2025 march in Syria. Source: damascusv.com
The main difference of the Russian march this year is that has passed Not only in Nalchik, but also in Cherkessk and Maykop. The second difference was that there were arrests for the first time.
Every year there are more promotions limit The restrictions are becoming increasingly stringent. Initially, the bans were related to the COVID-19 pandemic, but after the war in Ukraine began, the reasons for denying permission for the march were cited as "threats to public safety."
Scattered across the planet
The Circassian diaspora is one of the largest in the world, numbering, according to various estimates, between two and a half and five million people. And yet, due to agreements of 1829 between Russian and Ottoman Empire, it is one of the most dispersed. The Circassians were deliberately dispersed across different regions to accelerate their loss of identity and assimilation in new lands, explains Kochesoko.
Today, Circassian communities exist in more than 50 countries. The largest are concentrated in Turkey, where lives There are approximately six million Circassians, and Jordan, where the community is relatively small but influential. A significant diaspora has also formed in Syria.
The situation of Circassians varies in different countries. For example, in Jordan, representatives of the diaspora occupy important positions in the army and government structures. Syrian Circassians were forced to leave en masse leave The country was left behind by a civil war. Among Turkish Circassians, there are many military personnel, intelligence officers, businessmen, and police officers, but for a long time they were effectively excluded from political activity, Kochesoko asserts:
“I lived in Turkey for almost two years and I know the internal atmosphere well: Circassians were kept out of public life for a long time.

One of the reasons for this isolation lies in the past, the activist believes: after the First World War, the Circassians, although they played a significant role in the formation of the Turkish Republic, were Under government repression, they were building a unified Turkish nation, striving for national unification and suppressing anything reminiscent of other ethnic roots. Therefore, the use of languages other than Turkish and the open expression of other cultures were prohibited—this included the Circassians.
"The older generation was punished as children for speaking their native language and forbidden from having Circassian names. As a result, many have two surnames: an official Turkish one and an unofficial Circassian one." — says Kochesoko.
Previously, Circassians living in Turkey were afraid to speak their native language even at home, communicating in whispers for fear of denunciation, says the activist. Despite this, the language has been preserved in the diaspora, especially in rural areas.
In the last 10-15 years, the expert says, the situation has begun to change. появились Circassian politicians, active public organizations, and parties. These include not only Circassians but also other people from the Caucasus. However, the Turkish authorities are not relinquishing control and are seeking to exert influence, including through structures loyal to the Kremlin. This includes the International Circassian Association (ICA) and Federation Circassian Associations in Turkey (KAFFED). Diaspora doesn't trust them too much, especially young people, who are increasingly refuses participate in ICA projects.
"Circassians have historically harbored a distrust of the Russian state due to the tragic events of the past. Many also do not support Russia's aggression against Ukraine," emphasizes Martin Kochesoko.
“I soon realized: we are guests here.”
The state program "Compatriots," adopted in 2006, formally provides people from the Russian Empire, the RSFSR, and the USSR with the opportunity to resettle in Russia. However, it does not include Circassians. covers: when the deportation took place, the Caucasus was not yet part of the empire.
“There are no prospects of returning through this program,” states activist Hamza.

According to Hamza, repatriates began returning to their historical homeland after the collapse of the USSR in the 1990s, primarily from Turkey. Most spoke Adyghe fluently, maintained traditions, and came with the conviction that they should "return to their roots." However, According to Adygea's administration, in just 20 years, only about two thousand people arrived. In Kabardino-Balkaria at that time they said about one and a half thousand people returned to the Republic, in Karachay-Cherkessia - about several dozen people.
The arrivals had no Russian documents, housing, employment—or support from the authorities in resolving their immediate needs. All assistance came from the local community. Furthermore, most of the repatriates did not speak Russian, and the state required quickly pass the Unified State Exam and tests on Russian history.
"I heard Circassian speech all around me and thought: this is home. But soon I realized: we're guests here. We have no rights, and they're trying to take away our language," Khalid, one of the returnees, told NeMoskva.
A significant portion of the repatriates were unable to obtain legal status in Russia and were forced to return again. emigrated to other countries.
"The homeland is not ready to accept Circassians, although there are many who want to come. There is no legal mechanism, social guarantees, or language support." — Hamza admits. — People dreamed of returning, but found themselves in limbo: they didn’t quite belong here, nor did they belong there.
Those who manage to establish themselves in Russia face different challenges. Businessman Ibrahim was born in Turkey, like his father: his grandfather resettled there after the 19th-century deportation.
Circassian men and women at a memorial march in Nalchik in 2025. Photo courtesy of Martin Kochesoko.
In the late 1980s, after perestroika, Ibrahim came to the Caucasus for the first time: he met his relatives, and two months later, he returned and obtained a residence permit. In the late 1990s, he married a local Circassian woman and received Russian citizenship. His business—importing Turkish goods to Russia—was developing successfully. But after November 2015, when the Turkish Air Force shot down a Russian Su-24, and Moscow introduced sanctions against Ankara, Circassian entrepreneurs working between the two countries, began Problems.
"First, there were endless checks: documents, taxes—they found no violations," Ibrahim recalls. "Then there were hints: connections to militants, Turkish intelligence services, smuggling. It got to the point of direct threats from the security forces: 'Pay up, and we'll sort this out.' I refused."
A case was opened against the businessman, and later an attempt was made to strip him of his citizenship because he allegedly did not reside at his registered address at the time of his naturalization. Ibrahim left for Turkey. He returned and regained his citizenship only two years later, following a Supreme Court ruling.
Recognition of crimes and the right to return home
In 2011, the Circassian genocide was recognized for the first time in history: recognized Georgia. Then, in 1997 partially recognized by Abkhazia in 2025 - UkraineRussia neither recognizes the genocide nor accepts responsibility for it. And, as Kochesoko says, it generally avoids raising the issue.
The historian believes this is a deliberate denial. The experts we spoke with are unanimous: the Russian government fears the "Circassian issue" being brought into the international discourse.
"Recognition would require a rethinking of history and public repentance," notes journalist Aidamir Kazanoko, "and a system based on the myth of exceptionalism and a civilizing mission is incapable of this."
Timur, a lawyer from Maikop, agrees: recognizing the genocide is a political decision; it would require Russia to apologize and compensate, something the Kremlin is not prepared to do.
— Even Stalin’s repressions are called a “tragedy” in our country, but not a “crime,” — the expert reminds, — and the country's course towards a heroic myth leaves little room for truth.
The interviewee believes that the only way to preserve the memory of the tragedy is to “continue to raise this issue.”
According to Hamza, recognition of the genocide could radically change the situation for repatriates, who, in turn, would bring "capital, technology, and the political benefits of peace and democracy" to the region. For the authorities, especially after February 24, this would be a good political move, he believes.
Martin Kochesoko puts it more harshly: he is convinced that it is necessary to seek international recognition of the empire's crimes and the free right of the Circassians to return to their native lands.

