 |
 |
| 7 beats per measure | 11 beats per measure |
Ethnic Censorship
The flipside of manufacturing pure national music is banning foreign music, festivals and other more tangential aspects of culture. In Bulgaria , the performance or consumption of any ethnic and foreign music – namely Turkish, Greek, Roma and Serbian – was not allowed. Those listening to Turkish music could be fined, arrested and have their cassette players confiscated. Serbian folk-pop, however, was commonly traded underground. Turkish, Kazakh and many Central Asian epics were prohibited, as they glorified feudalism and heroes of whom the Communists disapproved. Only Russian epics were allowed. From 1934 to 1980 there was not one Kazakh song competition (Porter, 1994). When they were reintroduced they had been drastically altered to include Communist propaganda. Muslim names in songs were changed to Slavic ones, and dances like the Roma-influenced kyuchek ( cocek in Serbian) were banned. Occasionally, the dance remained but the name changed, which was either acceptable or not noticed by letter-of-the-law authorities.
Musical instruments and rhythms were also prohibited, occasionally to curb their supposed allusions to the backwards past, but mainly to deny foreign or minority influences. Ethnically heterogeneous music was common in the Balkans, and Turkish influence was strong, particularly in Bulgaria . This connection was never mentioned in print, however, as it tarnished the image of a “pure” Bulgarian people (Petrovic, 1994). The zurna (end-blown reed instrument) is played throughout the East and is one of the most typical instruments of southwestern Bulgaria . It was prohibited at a 1985 (some sources say 1984) folk festival because it was considered Muslim and Turkish.
Perhaps the defining trait of Bulgarian folk music is its unusual and complex rhythms, such as the kyuchek . Krivo horos (crooked dances) consist of one group of triplets and any number of couplets. For example:
|
|
| 7 beats per measure | 11 beats per measure |
These rhythms are also called aksak (even in reference to Bulgarian rhythms), which is Turkish for “limping.” It is a reference to the appearance of the dance that accompanies them. They are also occasionally found in Romania , Serbia and Macedonia . Yet officials claimed that Turkish music “left hardly a trace among the local Bulgarian populace” (Silverman, 1989) . When one considers that folk music was the focal point of identity and rebellion in the face of the Ottoman Empire , it is clearer why traces of Turkish influence would be undesirable.
Yugoslavia , having less severe political attitudes regarding Roma and Turks, had different musical policies. One Croatian ethnomusicologist even acknowledged Muslims and the Middle East as the strongest influence on their music, namely in Bosnia, Herzegovina and the Muslim populations (some used the terms Croatia and Yugoslavia interchangeably) (Pettan, 2001) . In Macedonia economic, political and cultural policies were more lenient. Several Roma in Macedonia were politically active, and some were even on the (capital) Skopje town council by 1948. Macedonian radio broadcasted Roma music and hired them on staff, Serbia had Roma-language radio programs, and the language was taught in Kosovo and Tetovo , Macedonia . Instruments like the zurna and tapan (two-sided) drum were played in ritual and political events and released on record. While the Roma were still a minority and given second-tier status financially and politically, they enjoyed relative freedom during the Communist era. The Yugoslavian authorities intended to decrease the animosity and differences between the various countries, languages, religions and heritages (Habsburg and Ottoman).
They went so far as to ban songs praising an individual country and demanded the Croatian national anthem “Lijepa Nasa” be performed only in conjunction with the Yugoslavian anthem “Hej Slaveni.” The alternative was a two-month prison sentence (Pettan, 1998) . A more absurd example is a folklore ensemble who were punished because their belts had the red, white and blue of the Croatian flag, but lacked the Yugoslavian red star. Through these measures, the Yugoslavian government hoped to integrate its peoples into one people. While the Bulgarian government also aimed for an ethnically and culturally unified country, their motivations and actions were different. They wanted to expel and erase all but the one “true people.”
Unsurprisingly, Bulgarians targeted many other elements of Turkish and Muslim life. Speaking Turkish or Roma or wearing shalvari (women's baggy pants) was prohibited. In 1985, the Bulgarian government decided that one-million-plus Turks out of 8.5 million Bulgarians was just too much. Additionally, there were 75,000 Pomaks (Muslim Bulgarians) and 400,000 Roma, which brought the total Muslim population to 17 percent (Silverman, 1996). To remedy the problem the government forced all Turks to change their names to Bulgarian names. This may sound as intelligent as putting a long tail on a deer and calling it a horse, but it is better than the gun-brandishing and imprisonment methods used with other undesirable groups.
Ibryam Hapazov, a Turkish Rom, clarinetist and the most famous musician in Bulgaria in the 1980s and 1990s, became the pure-bred Bulgarian Ivo Papasov. He and his band were arrested at a wedding in 1987 for indulging a request for Roma chalga music (Turkish for “music”) The official charge? Hooliganism, a surprisingly common offense (Buchanan, 1996). In a few countries, many Roma and Turkish musicians were taxed, fined or arrested by the KGB for playing their own music at their weddings. Others were forced to give a list of their repertoire or audition for the government to prove they knew enough nationalistic songs. Some waited until the sun went down to play Roma music, but most were particularly defiant, celebrating and playing what they wanted to regardless of the laws (Rice, 1994) . This was expressed in their musical style and clearly picked up on by the authorities.
Hungary 's experience with minorities differed from that of the Balkans. Their disapproval of Roma was based more in their refusal to assimilate than the fact that they were Roma. The Boyash and Vlach Roma both came from Romania in the mid-nineteenth century. The integrated Romungre Roma have been in Hungary for more than 400 years and are welcome participants in the national and folk culture. The Vlach Roma kept their Transylvanian-Romanian influences and Roma language in their music and were consequently marginalized. The Boyash adopted the new Hungarian folk song style and fared better (Sadie, 2001) . This again illustrates the importance Hungarians place on unity.
Urban Roma music was actually the favored music of the intelligentsia and nobility by the end of the nineteenth century and used as a symbol of true Hungarianness. With the Communists' rise to power, however, it was a symbol of the upper classes and therefore considered inferior to the workers' folk music. Even strings, the instrument of choice among the Roma, lost favor (Frigyesi, 1996). Young Hungarians eventually turned away from Roma music and toward the new folk music of the revival in the 1970s.