During the war in Kosovo, NATO paused its bombing so that the Circassians of Kosovo could return to their homes. This is how it reports OCMedia, adding that, on August 1, 1998, a plane carrying Circassians from Kosovo landed in the North Caucasus, marking the first organized return of Circassians to their ancient homeland since they were forced to leave more than a century earlier.
For many, this seemed like a long-awaited dream — the descendants of those expelled during the Russian Empire's conquest of the Caucasus were finally home.
For the Circassians of Kosovo, returning to Adige was meant as a return to their homeland — yet for many of them, returning after 150 years brought new challenges.
The Russo-Circassian War, which began in 1763 and ended 101 years later in 1864, took a tremendous toll. Estimates of the number of people killed in the genocide that followed range from a few hundred thousand to over a million, while most of the survivors were deported to the Ottoman Empire in one of the largest forced displacements of the 19th century. They were then resettled in the empire’s territories, including the Balkans. Today, Circassians around the world commemorate May 21, the date of the final battle, as a day of mourning.
For almost 150 years, the Circassians of Kosovo built their lives in the Balkans, preserving their language and strong ties of identity. By the 1930s, the Circassian community in Kosovo numbered around 400 to 500 people. They lived mainly in the city of Gjilan and in a few villages north of Pristina. Over time, they became a hidden minority, not attracting much attention.
As a small community in Kosovo, they struggled to maintain good relations with both Serbs and Albanians, and for many families there was initially no clear reason to leave. Returning to the Caucasus only became conceivable under the pressure of war.
"We weren't meant to live there forever"
The idea of repatriation was first officially raised in 1991 at the first Congress of the International Circassian Association in Nalchik, Kabarda–Balkaria. But the proposal remained more of a political possibility than an immediate project.
Only in 1998, when the situation in Kosovo deteriorated, negotiations between the Adygea authorities and the Serbian government intensified, with support from Moscow.
The Kosovo War emerged as part of the wider breakup of Yugoslavia that began in the early 1990s. Fighting between Serbian security forces and the Kosovo Liberation Army escalated significantly in 1998, displacing hundreds of thousands of civilians, before NATO launched an air campaign against Serbian authorities in March 1999.
Aslan Dzharimov, the first president of Adygea, later recalled in an interview with scholar Dr. Marieta Schneider that he had sent an official appeal to Russian President Boris Yeltsin on behalf of the three Russian republics in historical Circassia — Adygea, Kabarda–Balkaria, and Karachay–Cherkessia. In his letter, he asked Yeltsin to support the repatriation of the Circassians of Kosovo, arguing that this would “increase Russia’s prestige.”
Moscow's reputation had been severely damaged by the First Chechen War, and aid to a Circassian Muslim community could be presented as a positive and symbolic gesture.
According to Dzharimov, Yeltsin was convinced and immediately ordered the Russian Foreign Ministry to deal with the issue, while Foreign Minister Yevgeny Primakov and his deputy Vitaly Churkin were involved in the negotiations.
An anonymous official in Adige, directly involved in organizing the migration, later admitted that the problems between the Circassians and Albanians were exaggerated in order to gain Moscow’s support. Often, the Circassians in Kosovo had closer ties to the Albanians than to the Serbs, due to cultural and religious similarities, and intermarriage was not uncommon. But this did not mean that they had conflicts with the Serbs.
“The atmosphere around us was good, work was normal,” says Neziha, a Circassian born in Kosovo in the village of Buzëlumi, known to its former Circassian inhabitants by the Serbian name Donje Stanovce. In the end, though, Kosovo was “still not our homeland,” she says.
Dana, whose name has been changed for privacy reasons and who grew up in the same village, reinforces this sentiment, emphasizing that languages and contacts varied according to circumstances.
"When we went out, since Albanians lived in our village, we spoke Albanian. At school we spoke Serbian. But when it was just us, only Circassians among us, we spoke Circassian," Dana recalls.
However, like Neziha, she had no doubt about her true affiliation.
“I grew up thinking we weren’t meant to live there forever,” she says. Her father was particularly adamant.
"When I was little, when I was with my father, he would tell me: 'We're going there [to Adige], we don't belong here, we won't live here, so don't get too attached.'"
Schneider writes that on July 24, 1998, the first 200 Circassians of Kosovo were officially authorized to travel to Russia in a diplomatic note from the Russian embassy in Belgrade. This note emphasized that they were free to choose their place of residence, retain or change their citizenship, and even sell their property under Yugoslav law.
The Circassian community responded with a letter of commitment to the Yugoslav government, justifying the departure as a response to the risk of assimilation and demographic decline, while expressing gratitude for Yugoslavia as the country that had sheltered their ancestors and which had become a "true homeland."
The departure was scheduled for August 1. On that day, buses picked up the Circassians from the villages and took them to Belgrade. There, a plane from the Russian Ministry of Emergency Situations was waiting to take them to Mineralnye Vody in the Stavropol region.
When the first group arrived in Adige in 1998, they were greeted with celebrations by both the authorities and the local Circassians, who saw this as a historic moment.
Repatriation in waves
After formal agreements, the impetus to leave came largely from conviction at the community level.
Dana credits her father, an activist, with organizing the exodus, stressing that official agreements were secondary. What moved people was door-to-door work, personal conviction.
"There were even people he begged, telling them everything would be fine, come on, this is your homeland. He brought them all."
However, the fear of the unknown held them back.
"When there's uncertainty, you're afraid anyway. You don't know where you're going."
Not everyone left immediately. Some families stayed, hoping that the situation would stabilize.
Later, the worsening situation made the decision easier, but the NATO bombing in 1999 made leaving difficult.
"Communication was cut off, there were no telephones," Neziha recalls.
However, Russian authorities organized the evacuation, even reaching an agreement with NATO that there would be no bombing during the departure.
The group was transported to Sofia and then to Russia, arriving in Adige on May 22, 1999.
The homeland they found
Dana was only 15 years old when she left Kosovo.
"You never forget it. You live somewhere for 15 years, you have friends... mixed emotions."
She felt sadness for those who remained, but also joy.
"My father's dream was coming true."
However, the reality was different from expectations.
"I thought it would be more developed," she says of Maykop.
Despite this, the sense of belonging remained strong.
"When you want something, you close your eyes to everything else."
Neziha also shared similar feelings — the homeland had existed for her before in memory and culture.
"Physically we were in Kosovo, but mentally we were in Adige."
However, life was not easy and some returned to Kosovo.
In 2007, the village of Mafehabl was founded near Maykop, where most of the Circassians of Kosovo settled.
One of the main elements is the red brick mosque, which has become the center of the community.
However, cultural differences with the local Circassians often created tensions.
"They still ask us where we're from," Dana says. "We can't be identical to the locals."
Return language
In Kosovo, the Circassian language was essential for everyday life. In Adygea, however, Russian dominated.
Neziha experienced this as a disappointment.
"Why are you answering in Russian? Are you ashamed of your language?"
She insisted on speaking Circassian as a doctor and helped revive its use.
However, the biggest challenge remained with the younger generations.
"We preserved the language for 150 years, and now we are losing it in 26 years."
Dana faces this reality in her family.
"If you lose your language, you lose your humanity."
This remains one of the greatest paradoxes of the return: in exile, the language was diligently preserved; while in the homeland, where it should have been safe, it is being endangered again.
OC Media (Open Caucasus Media) is an independent English-language online news platform covering the North and South Caucasus regions.
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