This is a story of my trip to the land of two nations, the Ingush and the Ossetians, who hate one another. They are neighbours, and to the uninformed, would perhaps be indistinguishable. During a three-day weekend, I went to both republics, officially called the Republic of Ingushetia and the Republic of North Ossetia-Alania, to see what life was like- as well as to hear some grievances.
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| The North Caucasus mountains |
Originally it had been my goal to go to Ingushetia, which was a follow-up after my trip to Chechnya. The Chechens and Ingush are both Vainakh people, and share much in common; their languages are mutually intelligible, they are both Muslim, and are both mountain people. Calling a tour company before my flight, I asked about going into the mountains, but was told that I needed a pass from the FSB (the Russian FBI) as I was a foreigner, and the mountains of Ingushetia are located within a podgranichniy zon or secured border area. Instead I was offered to go into the mountains of North Ossetia-Alania, and agreed.
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| The North Caucasus mountains and Mount Elbrus |
I arrived in Ingushetia in the morning, and my first order of business was to reach the tour company, located in Nazran, the city where I would stay. A taxi driver immediately offered to pick me up, and first took two Ossetians to Vladikavkaz, the capital of North Ossetia-Alania. Looking at the map and seeing the location of the airport, Nazran, and Vladikavkaz, I thought this trip would take hours. It turns out that one can drive across the whole of Ingushetia in less than an hour- it is, after all, Russia's smallest republic. They were dropped off and I was then taken to Nazran, where I found my tour company. I was greeted by a couple of lovely Ingush women who had arranged everything for me. They offered me tea and cake, and asked about my travels, remarking how incredible it was that I had come to their small and relatively unknown republic in Russia's south.
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| The center of Nazran |
In Nazran, I did not feel like I was in Russia, but rather what I imagine some Middle Eastern countries to be like- similar to my impressions of Dagestan. Stone houses surrounded by walls replace the tower flats of Podmoscovia, as this is what the Ingush prefer. The traffic in Nazran was much worse than anywhere else in Russia. The air was filled with exhaust, smoke, and dust as cars competed for a spot in the roundabouts. Women wearing hijabs bustled about along the streets, walking with their children while shopping.
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| The Magas Tower |
Wondering what to do for the rest of the day, these ladies suggested that I go to Magas, the up-and-coming capital of Ingushetia. A friendly Ingush man- a coworker of theirs- drove me there. I sampled the local cuisine at a restaurant, which was almost identical to what I had had in Chechnya more than a month before- zhizhig galnash- meat and dough. I then went to a rather atypical museum which was located within a very tall tower, the Magas tower. It is the largest of its type in Russia, built in the style of an Ingush defensive tower, but much larger than any of the originals. On the inside, a kilometer-long spiral ramp takes you up, high into the tower, and paintings along the walls tell the stories of Ingush history. At the very top, a glass walkway crowns the tower, on which you can walk around and get a fantastic panoramic view of the modern city of Magas and the North Caucasus mountains.
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| A view of Magas |
Magas is claimed to be located at the site of the destroyed capital of the Alans, and which bore the same name. The Alans are an important people in the history of Europe and the Caucasus. When Attila and his Huns rampaged through southern Russia en route to Europe, the Alans were split into two groups, one heading to Europe where they played their role in the great migration of barbarian tribes, the other staying in the North Caucasus. Those who went to Europe found themselves stuck between the invading Huns and the Roman Empire, and frequently fought as sellswords on both sides; they later contributed to the fabric of society in several French cities where they settled down, such as in Orleans.
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| The Kingdom of the Alans |
The Alans were originally an Iranian people, whose ancestors were the Sarmatians and Scythians, but the Ingush claim descent from the fertile crescent, or Iraq. However, the medieval Kingdom of Alania in its later years was more of a confederation of different ethnic groups, including the Ingush and the Ossetians. It was crushed by the Mongols in the 1200s, and the Ingush and Ossetians fled into the mountains where they built their incredible defensive towers. North Ossetia-Alania didn't always have Alania in the name; in 1994, nationalist movements among the Ossetians attracted them to the idea of the Alans being their ancestors, which can be considered to be true, as the Alans were an ethnic group, but, as I mentioned, the term was later used to describe a confederation of Kavkasian tribes. For this reason, the Ingush tend to dismiss the Ossetians as having any ancestral claim to the Alans, perhaps in an attempt to deny them any ancestral legitimacy. If it seems confusing, that is because it is. One can say that both Ossetians and Ingush were once part of the same Alanic kingdom, were once united as people of the mountains who fought together against invaders. Now, they are still a part of the same political state, but are friends no more. How did this happen?
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| Ingush towers |
During the Caucasian Wars, the Ossetians joined the Russians in their invasion and subjugation of the Caucasus. Having been Christianized, it made sense for them not to join the Muslim Ingush and Chechens, and perhaps this is where the divide began. Since this time, the Ossetians have served as Russia's outpost in the Caucasus.
The Ingush were on Stalin's list of those deserving punishment. The Ingush fought for the Soviet Union in World War Two; they stopped multiple German advances into the North Caucasus, and held out the longest in the Battle of Brest Fortress, a heroic but ill-fated defense against an unexpected German attack. The Ingush played their role, and were all deported to Kazakhstan or elsewhere, just like the Chechens. Upon returning to their homeland in the 1950s, they found their homes occupied by Ossetians and Russians. Many Ingush bought their homes back, but others were not able to and were left resentful. A large region of formerly Ingush territory went into the hands of the Ossetians, and thus began a common grievance of the Ingush which continues to this day- that their land is being taken from them, and that nobody cares.
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| The deportation of the Ingush |
Tension and resentment rose dramatically in the late 80s and early 90s with the Ossetian-Ingush Conflict, a small ethnic war which broke out between the two groups. The Soviet government, which always favored the Ossetians (Stalin's grandfather was Ossetian) was ignorant of Ingush feelings of disenfranchisement. Violence erupted in a region where getting a weapon was like buying milk. The Russians supported the Ossetians in the conflict, and as a result, the Ingush felt- and still feel- betrayed by the nation they belong to. During this conflict, a number of Ingush civilians were forcibly held in a school in a city called Beslan, where many of them were killed by paramilitary Ossetian groups; it was this same school which was targeted by Chechen terrorists in a horrifying act of retribution in 2004, shocking the world. The domino effect of ethnic reprisals in this region is never-ending.
Then there were the Chechen Wars which spilled over into Ingushetia. Many Chechen refugees fled to an already overpopulated Ingushetia, putting a strain on the economy and resources. Ingushetia was also a sight of many terrorist attacks during these tumultuous times. Evidently, the Ingush have been molded by conflict for well over a millenium, and the scars of recent conflicts are still unhealed.
The Ingush are not small in number when you take into account the size of their territory; their sliver of land is home to almost half a million. It seems to be shrinking, as some of their territory was recently handed over to Chechnya, causing a rift between the brother nations. The Ingush are the most marginalized, and are the poorest in all of Russia. There is little development there; instead, corruption, human rights abuses, and poverty have become the norm.
What else is there to say about the Ingush? Like their Chechen brothers, they are hard as nails. I spoke of the martial prowess of the Chechens, but the Ingush, a smaller nation, were traditionally just as militaristic, if not even more so. Being such a small group, military exploits were the only way for them to survive; animal theft and warfare were the primary activities engaged in by Ingush men. Today, in many fighting sports such as mixed martial arts or traditional medieval swordfighting, the Ingush can be found dominating their opponents. However, like the Chechens, they also have a culture rich in tradition, with dancing, music, and art occupying an important role and telling the stories of the Ingush people.
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| The Lezginka |
One key aspect unique to the Ingush which differs them from the Chechens is that the Ingush did not have a feudal system- every man was his own chieftan. While the Chechens had a hierarchy (and still do) consisting of those at the bottom and the top, the Ingush had no king, but rather a council of elders. One can say that they were even more independent than the Chechens.
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| A room in an Ingush home |
The Ossetians are a unique Caucasian people with major differences from their neighbors in language, religion, and appearance. The Ossetian language is one of the last Iranian languages spoken in Europe, and can be traced back to their Scythian, Sarmatian, and Alan ancestors. Unlike their neighbours to both the east and west, the Ossetians are mostly Christian, but also have a rather high number of adherants to their own ancient religion called Assianism, which is Ossetian paganism based on ancient pre-Christian beliefs. A minority of Ossetians practice Islam. The Ossetians do not differ strongly from most groups in the North Caucasus in terms of how they made their living; most engaged in animal husbandry and crafting of different sorts. The Ossetians do have a more 'Persian' appearance than their neighbours, as they tend to have black or dark brown hair and a paler complexion. Yet, when looking at the traditional clothing, song, and dance of all groups in the North Caucasus, all become indistinguishable from one another, unless you are from there, of course.
Magas is still in the process of being built, and is largely inhabited by members of the FSB, since it is close to the border and since the region experienced a lot of terrorism in the past. It is quite modern and is organized in the typical grid formation of many Russian cities. Here, new mosques and tower flats are being built. It is now the official capital, and contrasts starkly from dusty, congested Nazran, the former capital of Ingushetia.
Taking a taxi back to Magas, I had the driver stop near the border with North Ossetia-Alania where I had seen someone selling animal hides and seat coverings for vehicles by the side of the road. I of course wanted to buy one of these goat skins, and when the vendor came out, my taxi driver spoke with him, saying I wanted to buy something. I was then invited by the salesman to sit and drink tea, and the taxi driver went on his way.
Not only did we sit and drink tea and eat some food together, but the salesman, named Akhmat, generously gave me a white papakha. Oddly enough I learned that he was from Dagestan, which seems to follow me everywhere I go. For some time we sat and chatted, and ate kurdyuk, a Dagestani specialty- lamb tail fat, brought over by a friend. I was even offered a place to sleep, but figured I should get to my hostel. Still, Akhmat was a friendly man, devout in faith and jolly in mood.
I returned to Nazran and found the hostel, which was no easy task. Checking in at around 10 at night, I was greeted by an elderly lady, Fatimat. She was kind and quick to offer me anything, but I was tired and it showed. I fell asleep in my bed in the hostel, in a room filled with young Ingush men.
The following morning my guide arrived, and we drove outside Nazran, crossing the border- which of course includes a checkpoint guarded by heavily armed soldiers- into North Ossetia-Alania. He was quick to let me know of the situation between the Ossetians and the Ingush, that it was a bad one, and that they both had no love for one another. What was incredible was the difference between Ingushetia and North Ossetia-Alania, the difference between Nazran and Vladikavkas. Whereas Nazran was run down and disorganized, Vladikavkas was more modern and evidently better funded. It was like night and day.
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| A residential area in Vladikavkaz |
Driving out of Vladikavkas, we headed towards the mountains. The hills gradually became larger and larger, and the trees were losing their leaves. We made several stops along this route, first to drink fresh mountain water from a spring, and then to see a gorge with a fast-moving stream.
After passing a large crucifix on a nearby hill, we arrived in the town of Dziagis, where an ancient small fortress still stands, built on the side of the mountains. I explored the inside, and it was quite small. One can imagine how effective it must have been, a place for the Ossetians to hole up as the Mongols raided the villages.
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| The fortress in Dziagis |
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| A typical mountain valley in North Ossetia-Alania |
We stopped in Fiagdon, a picturesque city at the foot of the mountains, its crumbling ancient towers juxtaposed against Soviet flats. Here I saw the men's monastary, a stone structure built to look as timeless as the area it is located in, but is in fact relatively new. My guide was quick to mention that the Ossetians' religion is 'complicated' as some mix Christianity and paganism, which Muslims look upon with disdain.
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| The town of Fiagdon |
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| Men's monastery of Fiagdon |
Leaving Fiagdon, we continued into the mountains. The surrounding area was brown, as the grass had died and winter was on its way. We were heading towards Gorod Myortvikh, the City of the Dead, in the nearby village of Dargavs.
Driving into Dargavs, hammer and sickle flags were on display, as well as golden busts of Stalin. He is venerated here, the legacy of communism remembered, for a change, as something positive. Part Ossetian himself, Stalin took good care of his people by deporting their neighbours. In their defense, the Ossetians may well say that their neighbours were unruly, rebellious, and violent- there are always two sides to a story. The village was as desolate, with crumbling buildings and towers, and few inhabitants to be seen.
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| The village of Dargavs |
The City of the Dead is actually an old Ossetian cemetery from the 1700s. It consists of many small above-ground tombs made of stone and mortar, all of which have a small window on one side. Most have a triangular, almost conical stone roof. Inside are human remains, which seem to be those of entire families. Some Ossetians come here to pay their respects, and many likely incorporate this act into their religion, engaging in ancestor worship.
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| The City of the Dead |
It was a unique experience to say the least; never have I seen so many skeletons, skulls, and spinal columns. A macabre display of our own mortality, the City of the Dead is a sombre addition to the bleak mountain valley. It stirs up feelings of insignificance, and is a reminder that we too will one day be in the place of those old bones. Yet, it is an incredibly fascinating place as well, and beautiful in its own way.
Watching over the tombs is a tall Ossetian defensive tower, this one still standing strong, overlooking the valley and its many streams and animals. These towers can be seen everywhere, most of them crumbling.
Leaving Dargavs, we went a different route to return, via a winding mountain pass. A dirt road snaked down the valley with many turns, steep cliffs constantly looking down from high overhead. This was perhaps my favorite part of the trip.
After going through the mountain pass, we drove through a town called Koban after which Koban culture, a significant bronze and iron age culture of the North Caucasus, gets its name. Little seemed to be going on there now.
Stopping in Vladikavkaz, I ate at an Ossetian restaurant, while my driver went somewhere else, as this restaurant was not halal. He then drove me to the center of Vladikavkaz to show me an old mosque, oddly enough, and the Arbat street. There we stopped at a nice souvenir shop selling gifts and clothing. My guide remarked that there was no such shop in Ingushetia, that they had nothing of the kind. It was strange- Vladikavkaz certainly had a Russian feel to it, what with the pastel-colored neoclassical buildings. It was even stranger to think that in just 30 minutes we would be back in Ingushetia, back in Iraq.
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| The Arbat Street in Vladikavkaz |
If you read about my travel in Buryatia, you might recall a part when I found a memorial to victims of political repression in Ulan-Ude. In Nazran, the Ingush set up their own memorial, a building built in the tower-style with a museum inside. The Ingush built this to remember the terrible things done to them by the Soviets. The government, at odds with those who view the actions of the Soviets with a negative lens, chose to have a victory park built all around it, complete with memorials and Soviet tanks as a way to 'include' the Ingush, or rather, as disdainful move of political retaliation. My guide spoke of how unjust he thought this was. This would never happen in Chechnya, but the voice of the Ingush seems too quiet to be heard. Even now there are demonstrations, protests against corruption and land reform, but it seems to be of little avail.
My guide dropped me off near a bustling market and I wandered, at dusk, through the center of Nazran to see what it was like. It was absolutely nothing like Russia, but rather Turkey or Iran. Yet even saying that is untrue; it is Kavkasia. The appearance, sounds, and smells of a place like Nazran, like Ingushetia, separate these southern regions of Russia from the world in way which is so unique, so special that I am eternally drawn here.
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| Evening in Nazran |
Returning to my hostel, I was once again shown hospitality by Fatimat. The funny thing is that the hospitality was at times a bit overbearing. I sat at the dining room table to chat with her just for a bit, and, seeing me looking aroung the room, eying the many different things on the table, asked me if I wanted tea, which I politiely refused; "No, you must drink tea!". This would continue. "Do you want some candy? Please, take the entire bag!". It was comical. The Kavkasians certainly are quite hospitable, but I think that this hospitality has two sides. On one hand, there is something quite nice about being offered such hospitality by a stranger. On the other, this hospitality can be used as a playing chip, which the one giving the hospitality can use to get something from the guest, and this is exactly what happened.
That evening, a Russian man and his teenage son from Stavropol, staying in the hostel while attending a martial arts competition that week, joined me in my search for a restaurant. Together we drove around Nazran, but each restaurant we arrived at was either closed or didn't have the kind of food they wanted. After more than an hour of driving and looking up restaurants on our phones, they gave up and we returned to the hostel. There, Fatimat fed me some plov, a rice dish, and then the three of us were sat down at the dining table to make a promotional video for the hostel, during which we spoke of our impressions of Ingushetia and, of course, of the hostel. We only said good things; I would like to have said that this woman was trying to kill me with tea and candy, but I did not. I also didn't mention that I had been in enemy territory for much of the day. But perhaps I am being too harsh- Fatimat did, after all, feed me when I had nothing to eat. The host-guest relationship in this region is just vastly different from that of much of the rest of Russia, let alone the USA.
Going to Ingushetia and North Ossetia-Alania left me with many different feelings, both positive and negative. While I of course had a good time, and was more than happy to check not one but two Kavkasian republics off the travel list, there was something about the reality of the situation there which left me brooding at times- the stark contrast between Ingushetia and North Ossetia-Alania, and the realisation that favoritism and the negative role it has played in the history of the region continues to this day. Yet, the situation could just as easily be switched around, with the Ingush in favor and the Ossetians suffering; this is just the way that history has turned out.
One thing that struck me, almost comically at times, is how incredibly similar these groups really are; it seems that all groups of the North Caucasus have their own version of the Lezginka dance, their own way of cooking the same dishes, their own folk tales which have the same story and origin, their own national costume which differs ever so slightly from their neigbours'- think of baklava, that tasty treat with honey and nuts, which countries in the Balkans, Turkey, and even Arab countries all lay claim to. Yet, each group has their own version. To an outsider, they are absolutely indistinguishable, but to them, the differences are a matter of loyalty to one's people. It is of course not the slight differences in cuisine and clothing that separate these different ethnic groups so much, but rather their history. Nonetheless, the idea of a great rift between relatively small yet similar groups of people, a rift which has in some cases grown so deep that their undying hatred of one another allows them to overlook their oppression from larger outside forces, is a defining characteristic of the Caucasus region, a characteristic which I fully experienced during my time in Ingushetia and North Ossetia-Alania.
I did not get to see the Ingush towers and mountains; instead I saw the Ossetian ones. I did not get to hear the Ossetian side of the story; instead I heard the Ingush one. This added a twist to my trip, and left me at one point wishing that I seen Ingushetia with the Ingush and seen Ossetia with the Ossetians. Yet, in retrospect, this aspect made my trip even more unique, perhaps even more authentic, and for that, I am grateful that my expedition into these troubled yet fascinating regions of the North Caucasus transpired the way it did.
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