THE DIVIDED CITY AND THE GRASSROOTSThe (un)making of ethnic divisions in Mostar

GIULIA CARABELLI

Series EditorsRay Forrest

Lingnan University Hong Kong

Richard Ronald University of Amsterdam

Amsterdam, Noord-Holland The Netherlands

The Contemporary City

In recent decades cities have been variously impacted by neoliberalism, economic crises, climate change, industrialization and post-industrializa-tion and widening inequalities. So what is it like to live in these contem-porary cities? What are the key drivers shaping cities and neighborhoods? To what extent are people being bound together or driven apart? How do these factors vary cross-culturally and cross nationally? This book series aims to explore the various aspects of the contemporary urban experience from a firmly interdisciplinary and international perspective. With editors based in Amsterdam and Hong Kong, the series is drawn on an axis between old and new cities in the West and East.

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Giulia Carabelli

The Divided City and the Grassroots

The (Un)making of Ethnic Divisions in Mostar

Giulia CarabelliMax Planck Institute for the Study of

Ethnic and Religious DiversityGöttingen, Germany

The Contemporary CityISBN 978-981-10-7777-7 ISBN 978-981-10-7778-4 (eBook)https://doi.org/10.1007/978-981-10-7778-4

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v

Preface

In 2015, Radio Slobodna Evropa (Radio Free Europe) introduced several teenagers from Mostar as part of a documentary programme (Perspektiva) discussing how young people understand the ‘division’. When a young man stated candidly not only that he has never crossed to the eastern side or visited the Old Bridge, but also that it was possible to determine the ethnicity of people in Mostar because of their skin col-our, the commentary section on the Radio’s webpage registered different levels of surprise and stupor from throughout the region. Some thought that the young people speaking were not representative of Mostar; some blamed their parents for imprinting fear and hatred into their brains; oth-ers refrained from commenting, arguing that (not being from Mostar) one cannot fully understand the situation. Where is the truth about Mostar? Which representation is more plausible?

This is a monograph about the city of Mostar, in Bosnia and Herzegovina, a city that, in the eyes of many, became the epitome of eth-nic divisions, religious violence and nationalist intolerance. It accounts for how processes of violent partitioning, and counter-processes that attempt to undo existing divisions, make, remake, and un-make urban divides. This book reflects upon how approaching the study of deeply divided societies means engaging with deeply divided narratives that are never settled. Accordingly, the main aim of this project is to provide a multifaceted and in-depth understanding of the social, political, and mundane dynamics that keep this city polarised whilst considering the

vi PREFACE

potential that moments of inter-ethnic collaboration hold in reimagining Mostar as other than divided.

Nostalgically remembered as one of the most ‘mixed’ cities of Yugoslavia, Mostar became an ethnically ‘divided city’ in the 1990s when, following the violent dismantling of the Socialist Federal Republic of Yugoslavia, it was formally partitioned between antagonistic communi-ties—Croat and Bosniak—in order to bring hostilities to an end. In 2004, the city’s administration was forcefully re-united by external actors and, since then, scholars, peace-makers, and urban practitioners have amply researched the misfiring of the (imposed) reunification, focusing on the resulting Kafkaesque bureaucracy, the segregated educational system, and the contested administration as a means to expose the national and inter-national failure to re-create a tolerant, safe, and inclusive environment. However, less attention has been paid to actors, initiatives, and events that actually disrupt the encompassing logics of this ‘divided city’, which would create the very possibility for narrating (and imagining) Mostar as more than divided. Based on participatory research in Mostar, this book aims to challenge and destabilise the representation of the city as merely a site of ethnic divisions. Interview extracts, maps, photographs, vignettes, anecdotes, and personal memories will immerse the reader into the every-day of Mostar, as a means of exploring the inconsistencies, complexities, and problems arising from living in a city that validates its citizens solely through ethnicity. Against the backdrop of normalised practices of ethnic partitioning, the book draws attention to both ‘planned’ and ‘unplanned’ moments of disruption; it looks at how supra-ethnic spaces come into existence regardless of identity politics, as well as delving into the plans, practice, and expectations of organised grassroots groups that attempt to create more inclusive spaces in which the future of the city could be reimagined. In doing so, the book reconstructs the uneven history of re-building Mostar physically, socially, and politically.

Conceptually, the book elaborates on crucial questions about the relationships between space, culture and social change. Inspired by the work of Henri Lefebvre, and in dialogue with critical urban theories, the book explores the becoming and un-becoming of Mostar as an ethni-cally divided city. It discusses how space is imagined, designed, and built at the level of political administration, and the various practices through which the city is re-appropriated, experienced, and lived through pat-terns of everyday life, thus emphasising the conjuncture and disjuncture between the actual, the planned, and the possible. By investigating not

PREFACE vii

only how the city is administered, planned, and represented (in political and academic discourses) but also the ways in which the city is lived and used by its citizens, the book reveals the emancipatory possibilities that are embedded within (yet simultaneously suppressed by) quotidian prac-tices of inter-ethnic cooperation.

Drawing on the emblematic case of Mostar, the book promises to make significant contributions to three broad fields of study: ethno- nationally divided cities, urban conflict studies, and the politics of grass-roots movements in the context of socio-cultural segregation. It explores the discursive emergence of Mostar as an intolerant and hopeless place of division and the impact this narrative has on the everyday life of the city, the understandings of what the city can and cannot become, and the very possibility of subverting such ethnic divisions. It then contrasts the globalised production of Mostar as a place of ethnic hatred with the practice of local initiatives that make visible moments of cooperation, solidarity, and consensus building among supposedly antagonistic actors, which thus challenges the very representation of Mostar as perennially divided.

This book discusses critically the limits of mainstream representa-tions of Mostar as simply a site of ethnic hatred, and in turn excavate the struggles and expectations of activists and citizens who feel misrepre-sented by the labels of ethnic rivalries, and who attest for the existence of counter-movements that rarely become visible through academic or pol-icy circles. What lessons can be learnt from these grassroots attempts to change the status quo? How can we write about ‘divided cities’ in a more complex fashion that situates the struggle for social change in a more vis-ible light? How do we explore the everyday life of a divided city in such a way as to lay bare the materialisation of its potentials and to become a motor of social change? These are the ambitious questions that the book aims to answer.

In offering novel explorations on divided cities, which critically engages with urban spaces of resistance in order to account for the activ-ities of those who are already producing change, this book will be of interest to scholars, students, and urban practitioners studying ethnically divided cities worldwide. It will appeal to urban researchers interested in Lefebvrian studies, and peacekeepers working in deeply segregated envi-ronments.

This book is largely based on the research conducted for my doctoral project within the framework of the Conflict in Cities and the Contested

viii PREFACE

State project funded by the Economic and Social Research Council of the UK (RES-060-25-00150). I am also grateful to Queen’s University Belfast who awarded me a DEL scholarship to complete this project in the School of Sociology, Social Policy and Social Work. Some of the material presented in the book was produced and gathered through my collaboration with Abart, a platform for urban research and art production, which I also thank for allowing the publication of maps that were designed as part of the (Re)collecting Mostar project.

I cannot but thank all those who contributed—in various ways—to the development of my research and book project. I am very grate-ful to my supervisor, Liam O’Down and various colleagues at Queen’s University Belfast—especially Martina McKnight, Milena Komarova, and Katy Hayward for their feedback on early versions of my doctoral work. For the many thought-provoking conversations around Queen’s library, I am grateful to Conor Browne, Delyth Edwards, Monika Halkort, Maylis Konnecke, and Merita Zeković. I am indebted to my research partners in Mostar and Sarajevo, many of whom became dear friends: Belma Arnautović, Đenan Bemen, Kristina Ćorić, Vlado Ćorić, Marina Đapić, Senada Demirović Habibija, Srđan Gavrilović, Katie Hampton, Goran Karanović, Đenita Kuštrić, Narcis Mehmedbašić, Muky, Claudia and Stefania Muresu, and Giulia Pischianz. For the generous and contin-uous support, I thank Anja Bogojević, Amila Puzić, and Mela Žuljević, the brilliant women who founded Abart in Mostar. For many inspir-ing conversations and for encouraging the writing of this book, I thank Aline Cateux, Gruia Badescu, Camila Cociña, Paola Dalla Vecchia, Aleksandra Djurasovic, Neil Galway, Liza Griffin, Zsofia Lorand, Dawn Lyon, Catalina Ortiz, Diana Pedone, Giada Pieri, Renata Summa, and Margherita Vezzosi. Special gratitude goes to my family, Marilena Goracci, Alberto and Francesco Carabelli and Alba Foglia for support-ing and encouraging my academic aspirations and to my colleagues at the Max Planck Institute for the Study of Ethnic and Religious Diversity, Jeremy Walton, Annika Kirbis, Miloš Jovanović, Piro Rexhepi, and Marina Cziesielsky.

For the continuous support, advice, and for all the happy memories related to the research and writing of this book, I am forever grateful to Maria Andreana Deiana and Rowan Lubbock.

Göttingen, Germany Giulia Carabelli

ix

contents

1 Introduction 1

2 Imagining, Planning, and Building Mostar After the War 41

3 The Everyday Life of Mostar 83

4 Grassroots Movements and the Production of (Other) Space(s) 123

5 Conclusion 171

Index 187

xi

abbreviations

BiH Bosnia and Herzegovina (Bosna i Hercegovina)DPA Dayton Peace AgreementsECF European Cultural FundEU European UnionEUAM European Union Administration of MostarEUFOR European Union ForceFBiH Federation of Bosnia and HerzegovinaHDZ Croatian Democratic Union (Hrvatska Demokratska Zajednica)HR High RepresentativeHVO Croatian National Defence (Hrvatsko Vijeće Obrane)ICG International Crisis GroupJNA Yugoslav People’s Army (Jugoslavenska narodna armija)MDG-F Millennium Development Goals FundNGO Non-Governmental OrganisationOHR Office of the High RepresentativeOKC Youth Cultural Centre (Omladinski Kulturni Centar)OSCE Organisation for Security and Co-operation in EuropeRS Republika SrpskaSABNOR Council of antifascists and fighters of the popular liberation war

(Savez antifašista i boraca Narodnooslobodilačkog rata)SDA Party of Social Action (Stranka demokratske akcije)SDP Party of Democratic Action (Socijaldemokratska Partija)SFRY Socialist Federal Republic of YugoslaviaUN United NationsUNESCO United Nations Educational, Scientific, and Cultural Organisation

xiii

List of figures

Fig. 4.1 Demis Sinancević (2009) 135Fig. 4.2 Aluminium plaque left at the Piramida Shopping Centre 138Fig. 4.3 Božidar Katić, OpSjene.ver.1.0—When people should be walking

upside down with their legs lifted up in the air, Spanish Square, March 2011 147

Fig. 4.4 Boris Orenčuk—Individualna Radna Akcija 1—Bulevar, June 2011 148

Fig. 4.5 Boris Orenčuk—Individualna Radna Akcija 1—Bulevar, June 2011 149

Fig. 4.6 Gordana Anđelić-Galić—Ovo nje moj mir (This is not my peace). Partisan Memorial/Cemetery, September 2011 150

xv

List of MaPs and Picture

Map 3.1 Pre-war socialisation practices 87Map 3.2 Post-war socialisation practices 92Map 3.3 Pre-war spaces of fear 96Map 3.4 Post-war spaces of fear 97

Picture 3.1 Spanish Square before renewal. February 2010 89

1

Since the end of the wars following the dissolution of the Socialist Federal Republic of Yugoslavia (SFRY), Mostar has become known as a divided city. After the wars, the two largest ethno-national communi-ties, the Croat-Catholic and the Bosniak-Muslim, have resettled in two separate parts (the east and west sides) divided by a four-lane street, the Bulevar. Deeply divided societies such as Mostar are described as places where ‘ethnic identity is strongly felt, behaviour based on ethnicity is normatively sanctioned, and ethnicity is often accompanied by hostility toward outgroups’ (Horowitz 1985, 7 quoted in Nagle 2016, 19–20). In such environments, ‘strong ethnic allegiances infiltrate practically all sectors of political and social life, imparting a pervasive quality to con-flict between groups’ (Kaufmann 1996, 137). Much has been written about Mostar as a divided city—a place of conflict, segregation, and ethno-nationalisms. This book proposes to re-engage with the analysis of Mostar by considering practices and discourses that challenge these entrenched divisions.

I visited Mostar for the first time in 2005 with the UN Urbanism research project team.1 Although the war had officially ended a decade prior to my visit, the conflict was far from settled. I was taken by how the process of urban reconstruction had injected the violence of the conflict into architectural projects, filling the landscape with religious symbols mobilised as signs of irreconcilable difference between the two warring sides. At the same time, illegal constructions mushrooming throughout the city spoke loudly of the absence of coordination and monitoring at

CHAPTER 1

Introduction

© The Author(s) 2018 G. Carabelli, The Divided City and the Grassroots, The Contemporary City, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-981-10-7778-4_1

2 G. CARABELLI

a centralised level. If the war had been about destroying the material-ity of the city, the post-war scenario was still characterised by a fierce struggle over space. The (largely unregulated) process of rebuilding the city inscribed the new understandings of identity and belonging into the city’s landscape while reappropriating territories with the aim of creating (more) space for one community at the expense of the others. While Mostar was largely in ruin, many international organisations still had offices in the central, ‘neutral’ zone. The multiple fractures charac-terising the post-war city—the ethno-national divisions, the frustration of/at the international organisations, the corruption, the uncertainty, the war traumas—created a palpable sense of crisis that translated into two opposite attitudes; the international community’s hypermobility and the local community’s immobility. The foreign officials I met at that time were always busy, and all the appointments with them were scheduled for breakfast or lunch time in one of the two hotels close to the cen-tral zone, Ero and Bristol. The internationals were constantly moving from one meeting to another with an urgency one might expect in the face of a looming crisis. As Coles writes (2007, 85–115), an important part of their job was also to remain visible, which explains their perma-nent state of hypermobility. Local politicians blamed the ‘internationals’ for anything that did not work and the international officials blamed the local elites for irresponsibility and procrastination. The persistent crisis created a pervasive sense of political immobility. Interviewing members of civil society, one could feel the tensions produced by the unresolved conflict but also a sense of diffidence, uncertainty, and secrecy that made it difficult to decide, plan, or even try to move from the protection of the not-saying, not-doing, and not-sharing. Not only was the process of making decisions concerning the collective good rendered impossible; to simply have an opinion, in Mostar, became almost equally problematic. Attempting to access information from the Catholic and Muslim com-munities, I faced the stark reality of a conflict that was far from settled. There was reticence in commenting on how the city was being rebuilt because this could have been manipulated. Or, as I was often reminded, the information disclosed to me must have been kept confidential and never reproduced. Aleksander Stuler, an urban planner who worked for UN Habitat until 2007, reflecting on his experience poignantly summa-rised, ‘Mostar was a very specific case that required attention at many dif-ferent levels; a delicate status quo characterised by inertia, where a mixed reaction to any move could be expected’ (Bittner et al. 2010, 162).

1 INTRODUCTION 3

Inertia explains well the atmosphere I felt then in Mostar, the sense that doing nothing was safer because it ensured that nothing could get worse. And yet, this inertia translated into the understanding that change could still happen, if only by an external force. In fact, the international organi-sations that intervened to monitor the process of reconciliation and post-war reconstruction had been busy drafting protocols and guidelines suggesting the possibility for the two major communities at war to rec-oncile. But these were often rejected by local leaders, articulating linger-ing animosities. That is how, in 2004, the city had been reunified; after long unproductive talks and negotiations, an international imposition determined that it was time to move on and to reinstitute a unified city council even though there was little agreement on how the city would be managed.

When I returned to Mostar in December 2009, to conduct research for my doctoral project,2 the city was dealing with the legacy of that imposition. The sense of crisis was persistent. There were far fewer international officials and organisations because the majority had left to attend to other conflicts and wars. Those who remained had become even more uncertain about the possibility for a different future. It was cold, grey, and rainy; walking around the empty streets of Mostar I had the clear impression of being in a ghost town. At the time of my arrival, the city had been without an administration for over a year, with all reconstruction projects halted in the absence of an approved budget. Internationally authored statements, urging the local politicians to find a solution to the persistent crisis, testified to the growing global frustration and anger at the lack of progress in Mostar. If, with the ceasefire, Mostar became the laboratory for peace-building practices, after more than a decade it provided evidence for their failure. And the sense of living in a failed city had become part and parcel of its everyday life. Many times, confronted with the complicated bureaucratic system or the impossibility of accessing services, I heard people commenting that only here could this happen, the frustrated reminder of the impossibility of shaking away the permanent crisis. Yet, living in Mostar for one year—until November 2010—gave me the opportunity to explore the city differently. I discov-ered the existence of grassroots organisations resisting ethno-national divisions that created pockets of unity in the divided city. By participating in the rhythms of everyday life, I became more and more aware of the difficulties involved in unravelling and making sense of ethno-national memberships, loyalties, and belongings, and the complex way such

4 G. CARABELLI

categories fused with spatial claims to power, sovereignty, and justice. In other words, living in Mostar made me realise that the representation of the city as the contested territory among two groups that live separately without engaging with each other is only one aspect of a much more complex story, which also needs to be told.

In 1983, Manuel Castells published The City and the Grassroots where he writes,

Urban history is a well-established discipline. … Yet there is a great unknown in the historical record: citizens. We have, of course, descriptions of people’s lives, analysis of their culture, studies of their participation in the political conflicts that have characterized a particular city. But we know very little about people’s efforts to alter the course of urban evolution. There is some implicit assumption that technology, nature, economy, cul-ture and power come together to form the city which is then imposed to its dwellers as given. To be sure, this had been the general case. … [But] it is in our view that … citizens have created cities. (Castells 1983, 3)

This statement conveys the motives that pushed me to write this book, and whose title pays homage to Castell’s inspirational work. Whereas many accounts of Mostar have been written to assess the progress made in bringing peace, reconciliation, and democracy to the war-torn city, this book enquires into the everyday of the city, to understand how the urban space becomes divided and what it means for Mostar to be a divided city. In other words, this book considers how the citizens of Mostar navigate the city, make sense of it, and envision its future. In doing so, this book aims to shed light on the existence of small yet radi-cal pockets of inclusion where people mix, cooperate, and socialise across ethno-national boundaries.

This book explores the formation of ethno-national identities spatially; it will account for how people move within the city, how they socialise, and how they use public space. As other scholars working in Mostar and, more generally, BiH, I too share ‘the discomfort’ (Hromadžić 2015) in categorising people in Mostar as ‘Muslim’, ‘Croat’, ‘Serb’ (or ‘mixed’) because of the limits of these ethno-national categories and their power to flatten complex dynamics into stereotypical representations of which group lives where, or wants what. These ethnic categories are both important and misleading. In Mostar, I have spoken to young, cosmo-politan, well-travelled individuals concerned with racism globally but

1 INTRODUCTION 5

adamant in refusing to befriend those not belonging to their own ethnic group—proving the extent to which shifting contexts and coordinates could change their perception of social justice and inclusion. I have met older citizens who remember how, during the era of Yugoslav federal-ism, their friends were from all ethnic backgrounds, suggesting that eth-nic differences were known, but they were not, alone, a reason not to be friends with someone. I sat silent, listening to one of the few remain-ing partisans venting his frustration at the demise of the secular Yugoslav dream where everybody was just a socialist and everything worked fine. I mingled with many who were born right before or after the war; they preserve childhood memories of ethnic-related abuse, refugee camps, and foreign languages they acquired to attend new schools, but some decided to believe that people are to be judged according to their actions instead of their ethnicity and mobilise to create a more inclusive society. I have girlfriends who have partners from ‘the other side’ and met women who would never dare such a thing. I met parents of young chil-dren who are vocally pro-ethnic division and segregation (especially in schools) and others who teach their kids that ethno-national differences are not a reason for conflict, embracing what they describe as the ‘spirit of pre-war Mostar’ (see also Summa 2016, 196). More importantly, all these narratives and stories of ethnic exclusion or inclusion are not con-sistent. Rather, the like or dislike of the ‘ethnic other’, projects of inclu-sivity and exclusivity, and internal mobility in the city often depend on the context and the audience of the conversation. Stereotypes of the ‘ethnic other’ as the culprit of all evils are thus still present in daily con-versations, especially when the need to place culpability for the many dysfunctionalities of the city must be satisfied. But then someone will most likely conclude that, all in all, we are all just people.

It is important to remember that ethnic groups have always existed and they were not created by the secession wars. Accordingly, one should avoid romanticising pre-war Mostar as the city of peace and tolerance in stark contrast to the post-war city of hatred and division. Differences based on ethnicity were always present, but what has changed is the articulation of these differences as motives for outright segregation and intolerance. In one of his latest articles, Stef Jansen (2016), author of some of the most eye-opening portraits of post-war BiH, reflects criti-cally on his scholarship (and legacy), arguing that ethnographers in the region might have downplayed existing nationalist voices, or addressed them as a direct product of brainwashing campaigns initiated during the

6 G. CARABELLI

conflict—arguments that somehow proved that people are not fomented by ancient, unsettled hatred, and thus rejecting essentialist/primordial-ist approaches. I interpret this as Jansen’s call to account for post-war BiH in all its complexities, by throwing light on both nationalist and antinationalist voices, which often coexist. This book was written with the opposite goal, that of making visible anti-nationalist practices in the city best-known for its nationalist voices. All in all, we both claim the need to challenge existing representations of post-war BiH to find the ways to portray complexities that often challenge entrenched binaries of division/unity, nationalism/anti-nationalism, conflict/solidarity. Of course, the book asks, in a country ruled by ethnic politics, is it possible to escape the logics of ethno-nationalism? And if this is possible, where do we search for resistance to entrenched patterns of division? If the political impasse in Mostar has become consistent with normal everyday life, how could movements countering the social injustice produced by spatial segregation possibly take place, and what would they look like? Jansen is addressing (mainly) ethnographers in this region to reflect on whether they might have been too lenient with nationalisms and why. This book embraces this call for a different reason. Mostar has been extensively analysed in terms of how its nationalisms dictate urban poli-tics, but few have asked whether there is more to nationalism in Mostar than simply division and stasis. Indeed, existing processes of urban rebel-lion and movements against nationalism have been downplayed—they are too small, too short-lived, or too thinly populated to make them rel-evant. This book wishes to further a debate into the politics of represent-ing Mostar (and BiH) to critically rethink how we understand notions of normalcy, identity, and ethnicity by embracing the very socio-political nuances engendered by the rhythms of everyday life. In short, the books aim to unsettle what we think we know about the city of Mostar.

If the city was taken as the exemplary case-study of how the imple-mentation of peace, reconciliation, and democracy prove difficult in deeply divided societies, this book proposes to re-examine Mostar once again, but this time to explore the social excess and surplus of action beyond ethnic divisions: the inconsistencies of ethno-national pro-grammes, the moments of spontaneous solidarity, and the projects force-fully countering ethnic segregation. Overall, this book suggests that the division of Mostar, albeit real and present, is unstable, unsolved, and changing. This book discusses the many ways in which Mostar remains ‘divided’; its infrastructures, political impasses, and contested imaginaries

1 INTRODUCTION 7

account for the entrenched divisive practices that resign Mostar to one of the most researched ‘divided cities’. But also, the book wants to make visible the manifold ways in which divisive practices are resisted either because of contingencies or as part of organised movements. I do not intent to draw a picture of Mostar as devoid of conflict or to suggest that the division has been solved. Rather, I wish to reflect on how ethno- nationalism and movements against it are relationally shaped in order to assess how the perceived sense of immobility hides and holds very differ-ent political projects.

In this introductory chapter, I begin by discussing the emergence of the ‘divided city’ as a pressing urban phenomenon and I briefly review the scholarship on ethno-nationally divided cities and to situate the case of Mostar. I pay attention to the work of scholars who look at inter- ethnic movements, supra-nationalist groupings, and the everyday life of ethnically polarised cities, and I explain how this book attempts to make a critical intervention in this field of research. In the second part of this chapter, I discuss the theoretical choices that underpin this research and I explain how Lefebvre’s theory of space production not only inspired my work but provides innovative tools for the study of divided cities more generally. Lastly, I reflect on my place in Mostar—as a foreign researcher, an activist, and an educator—to trace the different ways in which the material for this book has been collected, analysed, and interpreted. In doing so, I also wish to contribute to methodological discussions about how to approach the study of divided cities.

ethno-nationaLLy divided cities and the reLevance of Mostar as a case study

Urban scholars have long explored conflict and divisions in cities (Marcuse 1993). If levels of division, segregation, and inequality are traceable in many cities, they become extreme in the case of what goes under the label of ‘divided cities’. These are places where segregation materialises through the erection of walls, the existence of buffer zones, internal checkpoints, and the production of material or immaterial bor-ders that limit internal mobility and fuel (often) violent conflicts. Belfast, Beirut, Jerusalem, Nicosia, or Mostar are among the most popular exam-ples of this urban typology. Conflict, in these cities, is characterised by ethno-national aspirations to exclusive sovereignty that manifests spa-tially into the desire to acquire more territory for one community at

8 G. CARABELLI

the expense of others. I use the concept of ethno-nationalism, following Connor (1994), to define a type of nationalism that is linked to ethnic-ity. Nationalism is sometimes used in non-ethnic terms and not all eth-nic groups identify over a particular state. Ethno-nationalism refers to an ethnic group that strives for its own state. In other words, the term refers to ‘both the loyalty to a nation deprived of its own state and the loyalty to an ethnic group embodied in a specific state, particularly where the latter is conceived as a “nation-state”.’ (Conversi 2004, 2). Ethno-nationalism defines political strategies that raise ethnicity as the chosen category to determine alliances and enemies but also, the concept refers to how the safeguarding of ethnic boundaries fuels aspirations of independence towards the creation of ethnically homogeneous nation states (see also Anderson 2008, 2013). Thus, ethno-nationally divided cities become both the stage on which struggles over urban territory play out and the incubator of broader conflicts over state sovereignty as such. Often, these divided cities belong to highly contested states—Bosnia and Herzegovina, Israel/Palestine, and Lebanon are clear examples—in which ethno-nationalism generates antagonistic claims to political power, feed-ing conflicts whose violence waxes or wanes over long periods of time (Bollens 2007; Calame and Charlesworth 2009; Pullan and Baille 2013).

In a historical moment when nationalisms are on the rise, the study of these extreme cases of division has found renewed interest. So far, the diverse and multi-disciplinary literature about divided cities has interro-gated how to manage conflict through the potentials and limits of con-sociational agreements (McCulloch and McGarry 2017), how to foster reconciliation via ‘peacebuilding in practice’ (Oberschall 2007), or how to enhance inter-ethnic dialogue, transforming antagonism into agonism, and in turn producing a shared society (Nagle and Clancy 2010). Yet, with the intensifying of research into divided cities, a number of scholars have also pointed to the limits of their shared label. Firstly, by grouping very different case-studies under this category, we obscure the many dif-ferences among these cities by focusing instead only on what they have in common: their division. This leads to simplified analyses that reduce historical, economic, and political complexities to stereotypical repre-sentations of urban polarisations, which might limit the scope of urban research rather than broadening it (Allegra et al. 2012). Each city that became known as a ‘divided city’ has a different history that led to differ-ent conflicts, which need specific solutions: there is no universal formula for solving the crisis of ethno-nationally divided cities. Yet, as this book