Based on the materials from her collection, Alenka Puhar published the book Peticije, pisma in tihotapski časi (Petitions, Letters and a Time of Smuggling) in Maribor in 1985. The book was based on her experience of participation in the petition for the abolition of the death penalty in Yugoslavia, which was conducted at the end of 1983. A group of citizens, including Alenka Puhar, sent the petition to various institutions, including the Assembly of the Socialist Federal Republic of Yugoslavia. The petition was not successful because the death penalty was abolished only in 1989, but it paved the way for new civil society campaigns in Slovenia, which had their peak in the Slovenian spring at the end of the 1980s, and in the collapse of the communist regime followed by the establishment of the independent Republic of Slovenia.

The book was first published in 1985 and it had two reprints in 2005 and 2009.

Süleyman Kazımov Saadettinov was born on 9 April 1951, in the village of Bashevo, Kardzhali province, Bulgaria. He worked as a mechanical engineer. Süleyman Saadettinov resisted against the so-called “Revival Process” implemented by Communist Party and its campaign of forced name-changing in December 1984 and refused to change his Turkish name to Bulgarian. His resistance was peaceful; he attended a small protest against the “Revival Process”. Because of his resistance, he was arrested and sent to prison and the forced labour camp or the ”concentration camp’, as the collectors define it, in Belene, on the island Persin on Danube river. After about one year he was released and kept on probation until deportation from the country during the summer of 1989. Süleyman Kazımov Saadettinov was expelled with his family from Bulgaria in the summer of 1989, before the collapse of the socialist regime. He and his family found refuge in Turkey. He took the Turkish citizenship. Now he lives in Bursa and has double citizenship – Bulgarian and Turkish.

According to the account of Süleyman, the photograph was secretly taken at a moment when camp prisoners were removed from the camp to work outside of the camp area, near to ordinary workers. In the working area, Süleyman and his friends saw a photographer, taking photos of ordinary workers. They asked the unknown photographer to take a photo of them. The photographer secretly took the photo of the group of prisoners and a week later brought them the developed photograph. When Süleyman was set free from the camp, he took the photo with him.

Süleyman is on the right of the picture, the man crouching and with a mustache.

Invitation and program schedule for the IHF Cultural Symposium, Budapest 15–18 October 1985

Although the plans and practical preparations for the alternative programs of the Budapest Cultural Forum 1985 had been started more than a year earlier, it was this invitation letter and program schedule sent to all Western participants by the International Helsinki Federation from its Vienna Office, an invitation signed by Chairman  Karl Joachim Schwarzenberg on 1 September 1985, that proved the success of devoted efforts made by the IHF staff to organize a three-day East-West Cultural Symposium in Budapest in parallel with the official opening session of the CSCE European Conference.

The main subjects of the alternative forum were much more challenging. They included “Writers and their Integrity” and “The Future of European Culture,” and they offered a good opportunity for free and stimulating exchange of ideas for participants from both East and West. The list of authors invited seemed quite imposing, as it included prominent figures such as György Konrád, Susan Sontag, Per Wἃstberg, Hans Magnus Enzensberger, Derek Walcott, Timothy Garton Ash, Alain Finkelkraut, Danilo Kis, Jirzi Grusa, Ed Doctorow, and Amos Oz. This forum was perhaps the first chance since 1945 for writers from both East and West to enter free public debates on sensitive cultural and political issues such as exile, censorship, self-censorship, the role of national identity in literature, the rights of minorities, the right to history, or the basic question of whether European culture is separate from world culture. And is European culture really one indivisible culture? These questions and issues represented an utterly new approach which regarded cultural freedom as a vitally important and integral part of the overall realm of human rights.    

How did the Budapest “Cultural Counter-Forum” manage to implement the promising plans made by the IHF? Not quite as was expected. Apart from Hungarians, no other participants from Eastern Bloc countries could attend the symposium, either because they could not get passports or because of the were forced to live under police surveillance or under house arrest, or they had been interned or jailed, like many Russian, Polish, Czech, Slovak, and Romanian writers at the time. They were partly represented by some Western writers with Eastern origins, e.g. Jirzi Grusa, Danilo Kis, and Amos Oz, and Timothy Garton Ash, who came from Warsaw to Budapest, spoke for the Polish writers who at the time were still suffering from the harsh measures of martial law. Things were similar in the case of writers who belonged to ethnic minorities. Hungarian participants, like poet Sándor Csoóri and philosopher Gáspár Miklós Tamás, spoke on their behalf, as did two of the most harassed writers and samizdat makers, Géza Szőcs, who was originally from Cluj / Kolozsvár / Klausenburg, and Miklós Duray from Bratislava / Pozsony / Pressburg. Szőcs and Duray addressed open letters to the participants in the Counter-Forum

The Irina Margareta Nistor Private Collection includes a series of written documents, together with a few dozen VHS video cassettes preserving a small part of the Western films that were introduced clandestinely into Romania between 1985 and 1989, to be translated and dubbed and then distributed on video cassettes (semi)clandestinely. This collection epitomises a popular culture phenomenon without any equivalent in Eastern Europe, which emerged in Romania as a reaction to the reduction of the official programme broadcast on television channels to just two hours per day and to news broadcasts about the activity of Nicolae Ceauşescu and the leadership of the Romanian Communist Party.

“Šmaikščioji rezistentė Aldona Liobytė” – taip buvo pavadinta rašytoja, publicistė ir vertėja Aldona Liobytė pirmoje knygoje apie ją. Būdama labai aktyvia asmenybe, turinčia puikų humoro jausmą, Liobytė tapo sovietmečio Lietuvos inteligentijos neformalių tinklų iniciatore ir lydere. Ji palaikė ryšius ir susirašinėjo su dideliu menininkų būriu, diskutuodama ir patardama jauniems kūrėjams kokių kūrybinių temų imtis, taip pat kasdieniais gyvenimo klausimais.  Bendraudama ji jumoristiškai ir sarkazmo forma išsakydavo daug kritikos tuometinei santvarkai. Nors dėl savo idėjų ir pasisakymų ji ir buvo priversta palikti Grožinės literatūros leidyklos redaktorės pareigas, ji tęsė darbą kūrybos srityje, rašė kūrinius vaikams, vertė kūrinius iš užsienio kalbos į lietuvių kalbą.   

After Ivan Aralica had been granted the Vjesnik literary Ivan Goran Kovačić Award for literature, members of the Zadar branch of SUBNOR condemned this act. This was first commented by the local weekly Narodni list in a lead under headline “Vigilance fell asleep” written by the editor-in-chief Dane Vučenović. In the article, the frequency of attacks on self-management socialism is mentioned and the attempts of “defeated groups from the era of the so-called ‘massive movement in Croatia’.” Vučenović stressed that in that period the opponents of socialism increasingly came out openly in many centres, and so in Zadar, where the writer Ivan Aralica lives, the winner of the Ivan Goran Kovačić Award for the novel The Souls of Slaves (1984). He agreed with the SUBNOR Zadar branch, which criticized the Vjesnik jury for giving the award to a writer whose profile was inadequate because of his participation in the Croatian Spring in Zadar. “We think that such an attitude of the Zadar veterans has a positive significance, and that in the process of giving awards, the political profiles of candidates should be taken into account, at least when special awards are at stake,” Dane Vučenović concluded, indirectly pleading for interventionism in the assessment of literary works.

Ivan Aralica himself stated in his letter of 26 July 1985 to Zlatko Crnković that this lead was an overture for the attacks on him: “It has been a long time since I wanted to write to you, ever since I came to Zagreb at the beginning of July, because right on the eve of my departure from Zadar the campaign against me started with the lead in Narodni list (Aralica and Crnković 1998, 123).

The Dziekanka Workshop was the space of intersection of many domains: visual arts, theatre, music, philosophy. Among music groups that gave concerts in Dziekanka, one might mention punk bands TZN Xenna and Dezerter, intuitive Ossian, and ephemeral projects set by Krzysztof Knittel, Marcin Krzyżanowski, Mieczysław Litwiński, Andrzej Przybielski, and other avant-garde musicians. Familja Radio Warszawa was related with Dziekanka as well. The group was established by Jerzy Caryk, Kuba Pajewski, and Libero Petrič with the participation of many other musicians, artists, and actors. The group combined musical improvisation with electronic experiments and joyful atmosphere while their performances were enriched with elements of theatre and astonishing scenographies. The photography made by Tomasz Sikorski presented the installation-environment created by Familja Radio Warszawa in Dziekanka, December 28-31, 1985.

Secret report of the Hungarian State Security Service, 16 October 1985

The state security services of communist Hungary began to follow the preparations underway for the Counter-Forum Budapest 18 months earlier, i.e. as early as March 1984, by gathering regular information and agent reports on the informal meetings of IHF representatives and some Hungarian dissident intellectuals in Budapest. By the opening of the official CSCE Cultural Forum in mid-October 1985, the entire staff of the Hungarian secret police had been mobilized with the main task of preventing any potential conflict or open scandal before, after, or during the six-week-long prestigious East-West diplomatic conference, as a “top secret” daily information report dated 16 October 1985 (just one day after the grand opening of the CSCE Conference) clearly proves. It seems to be a telling sign of flurry and an excess of caution or paranoia that on that day this was the second report submitted by the secret service on the same subject: reporting on all suspicious signs and information concerning the efforts of the IHF to find public places: restaurants, conference rooms in downtown Budapest for the use of the Counter Forum. This brief report, which contained both false and misleading information, also illustrates the incompetence of the Hungarian secret police, as they do not seem to have been aware of the latest news, according to which the Counter-Forum had been refused permission to hold its session in a public place a day before and so was hosted by Hungarian dissident poet István Eörsi and film director András Jeles, who offered their private residences for the sessions.   

Ziyatin Nuriev was born in the village of Most, municipality of Kardzhali (1955). He graduated from the High School of Arts in Kazanlak and then studied painting at the National Academy of Arts in Sofia. During his second year at the Academy, he changed his speciality to sculpture in the class of Prof. Iliya Iliev. Nuriev graduated from the Academy in 1982.

Initially, Ziyatin Nuriev worked with basalt, one of the hardest materials. His favourite themes are the figure and the portrait. He took the human figure to abstract form using various materials – marble, bronze, wood, ceramics. Even his first participations in national exhibitions were noticed – in 1985, in the National Youth Exhibition, he won the prize of the Union of Bulgarian Painters and two years later, he received the annual prize in sculpture of the Union of Bulgarian Painters. Some of his works were bought by the National Art Gallery, the Sofia City Art Gallery and other leading galleries in the country.

During the so-called Revival Process (an attempt of the Bulgarian Communist Party to forcibly assimilate the Muslim population – Turks, Pomaks, Tatars, Roma), the name of Ziyatin Nuriev was changed to Zlatin Norev. The Revival Process began in the early 1970s and continued until the end of state socialism. The measures for the implementation of this policy included forced change of the Arabic-Turkish names with Bulgarian, restrictions in the use of the mother tongue by representatives of the above-mentioned groups, forced restraint of their traditional customs and rituals and of the use of their religion. The assimilation policy of the socialist authorities provoked a wave of resistance which played a significant role in the development of open civil opposition to the communist regime.

Until 1990, Ziyatin Nuriev worked in Bulgaria but afterwords he moved to Istanbul.

When often asked if he feels distressed about Bulgaria because of the "Revival Process" and the change of names, Ziyatin Nuriev answers: "I was distressed about the country not as people but, let's say, as government. How could I be distressed and offended by my friends, acquaintances, neighbours? It wasn't their fault. They were even more surprised and frightened than us. Because we were in a way prepared in advance. Something was telling us it was going to happen. I remember many people, colleagues and friends, who literally broke into tears. But these are other things – ethnical affiliation, this and that; that's not a problem for me. This is a wholly different story. If you ask me if I'm offended or distressed about Bulgaria – no, absolutely not. Because Bulgaria is my home. I'm glad that I was not alone at the exhibition last night. [...] I'm not a patriot, neither Bulgarian nor Turkish." (Dzhambazov 2016)

"The changes in Bulgaria in the 1990s enabled my departure for the megalopolis [Istanbul – A.K.]. But it wasn't planned. I didn't want to leave my own country. Remember the insanity of 1989 when many people were expelled or forced to leave the homeland. Not that I didn't want to see the world and live in it but I didn't want it to happen that way. That's why I arrived in Istanbul as an ordinary tourist, not an exile (1990). It was summertime and with a friend of mine went to see the museums. We walked along the İstiklal Avenue and then entered the trade centre for textiles and fashion. We were filled right away with a sense of luxury and glitter, felt the smell of incredible scents. I introduced myself to the manager and showed her my brochure. It turned out that we were at "Vakko", chain stores with galleries located in the biggest Turkish cities – Istanbul, Ankara, İzmir... My first exhibition in Turkey was at Vakko in Ankara in 1991. The same year, I was offered a lecturer's position at the Faculty of Fine Arts at the Marmara University. For 16 years now, I lead there the workshop on stone-cutting which I actually founded. [...]

Do you remember the Revival Process?

- We all have to remember it so that we won't repeat the same savagery. But I must also forget about it because of the relations with my friends, fellow-citizens, compatriots" (Cesur 2006).

Ziyatin Nuriev participated in international symposia and exhibitions in Poland, Turkey, Japan, the Canary Islands and others. He never broke his connection with Bulgaria; he had exhibitions in Burgas (Prolet Gallery, 2006??), Varna (Gallery 8, 2014), Plovdiv (Resonance Gallery, 2015), Kardzhali and Sofia (2016). His sculptures can be seen in many Bulgarian towns and cities.

The sculpture "Window" was created in 1985, the year when the campaign for a large-scale change of the Arabic-Turkish names with Bulgarian was at its height; all administrative structures, the repressive apparatus and the state organizations of the totalitarian regime were engaged; in only two months, the names of over 800 000 people were changed. The assimilation policy of the socialist authorities provoked a wave of resistance which played a significant role in the development of open civil opposition to the communist regime.

Although the author says that they are not directly related to the "Revival Process", the works of Ziyatin Nuriev express his protest. Despite the similarity in material and technique between "Window" and his earlier works ("Dream", 1982; "White Light", 1983; "Head", 1984), the difference in the message of the sculpture is considerable: "The wound of unbearable violence is engraved in this sculpture; a wound on the person's morals, on the family, the society. The window of Ziyatin Nuriev gives us the possibility and the impossibility to touch what we won't ever experience. The possibility – because he has brought out to the surface the iceberg of pain; the impossibility – because he has locked up all external expressions of pain.

The eyes are missing.

The lips are missing.

In the place of the eyes, from the meandering edge of the eyelid line, depending on the light, the shadows casted could call the look of sorrow from which a sigh slips out whispering. 

In the place of the lips, on the border where the two halves of the face meet, the concealed lamentation passes over, the red vertical line of the silence.

Ziyatin chooses for the first and may be for the last time the bust, the most used pattern for heroization of the character. He deprives his character of individual characteristics but presents him with plastic uniqueness – he takes from the crown, prolongs the scull, flattens the body, marks the nose and cuts the volumes by sharp edges. He includes the clasped hands which emphasize the geometry of the forms as well as the delicacy of the details. At first, the sculpture looks deceivably fragile but it has the mighty hardness of the basalt. The differences in the texture of the basalt cause differences in the shades of grey. This is particularly visible in the place of the eyes; the tangle of dark and light spots begins from the area of the eyes, runs through the temples and reaches the back of the head. The grief is transformed into enlightenment. The shades of grey are not enough and Ziyatin uses brick-red to wound particular edges or places of the head and the body.

The window is blocked up for those who observe and open for those who can sympathize." (Iliev 2011: 34-35)

This was the very first album created by the artist Lóránt Méhes from the photos accumulating in his box, incorporating the best photos from his collection. In this sense it differs from the rest of the compilations, which are all arranged in chronological order (these photos are featured exclusively here and are missing from those other chronologies).

In the last decades of Romanian communism, queues for various foodstuffs or common consumer goods were an everyday sight. Images of queues are common to all the former communist countries in Central and Eastern Europe. However Andrei Pandele’s photographs are different because they illustrate a period of decay and degradation of human life that was unparalleled in the Soviet bloc. They show the absurdity of the arbitrary measures taken by the Ceaușescu regime, which reintroduced food rationing on the pretext of so-called “rational nutrition.” The severe shortage of food products was the direct result of the decision to be able to pay off Romania’s foreign debt and so become less dependent on the West, thus implicitly being under less pressure to release dissidents who had been arrested for the crime of criticising the regime’s policies. Andrei Pandele’s photographs are impressive because they show not only a dark and dirty Bucharest with interminable queues, but also people completely without hope. “It took me years to notice what I wasn’t interesting in noticing. People look, and as a rule, they only see what interests them. It’s absolutely natural. It was a question of practice, of education of the eye, to which, I must acknowledge, my architectural training had also contributed. Why do I say this? Because I was not, at first, in real time, conscious of exactly what I was photographing. Some places, their hidden, grave symbolism, I myself discovered long after I had taken the pictures. Often we see what we are able to see…,” says Andrei Pandele, with regard to what he calls a “rabid abnormality.” In this connection, he mentions that: “in my photographs of everyday life during communism, implicit, but visible when you look carefully at the photographs, is the abnormality that is/was represented by the small details. Buckets of cheese on the pavement. Or shopping backs lined up on the pavement, empty bags. Or bottles of milk frozen in the street. And many other things. It was, as I say, a rabid abnormality.”