CEMAAT, with permission from the Turkish publication YENİ DEVİR, is publishing a translation of an article by Hamza Merjanoglu. The publication belongs to the conservative segment of the Turkish media. The situation of Turkic-speaking communities around the world is a constant focus of the editorial staff. In the translated text, the author analyzes the reasons for the decline in the population of the indigenous peoples of Crimea — the Crimean Tatars, Karaims, and Krymchaks — as well as the Urums and Rumeans, who were resettled by order of Catherine II in the late 18th century to the territories of present-day Mariupol and Rostov.

Wars change more than just borders. Sometimes they leave a deeper mark than any map, erasing entire peoples, languages, and cultures from history.

From the shores of the Baltic Sea to Crimea, from North America to the Northern Black Sea region — across this vast expanse, clashes between great powers have most often forced stateless and defenseless indigenous peoples to pay the highest price.

This history — beginning with the Livonians, whose native language is spoken today by only one child, and continuing with the indigenous peoples of Crimea, whose numbers are steadily dwindling — reveals an invisible yet profound dimension of war.

Historiography is usually centered on the victors and the vanquished.

It recounts in detail which army advanced, which empire fell, and which borders changed.

However, beyond the confines of this grand narrative, another reality exists: the true and long-term victims of wars are most often not states, but peoples.

When the last speaker of a language dies, when the last representative of a culture is laid to rest, or when a people becomes a minority in its own land, only then does the true outcome of war become apparent.

Today, in various corners of the world, there are dozens of people whose existence endures only in archives and scholarly research.

Some were scattered by deportations, others perished from famine and crop failures, and still others were lost in the endless struggles of great powers.

The Livonians on the Baltic Sea coast, the indigenous peoples of Crimea in the northern Black Sea region, the forgotten tribes of North America, and many others… Despite their different historical contexts, they are united by a common fate: they paid the price for other people’s wars.

Today, in the shadow of the war stretching from Ukraine to Crimea, we are once again faced with the same question: will history learn to protect small nations, or will they once again become silent victims of grand geopolitical calculations?

The quiet disappearance of the Livonian people serves as a reminder that this question concerns not only the past, but also the present and the future.

Today, only one child in the world speaks Livonian as a native language. Kuldī Medne was born in 2020 in Latvia. Her parents are Latvian enthusiasts who learned Livonian to preserve Livonian culture.

Livonian is still taught. But this language, which is related to Estonian, no longer has a natural environment in which it is spoken.

Although it continues to exist thanks to the efforts of volunteers, it remains unclear whether these initiatives can develop into a sustainable social system.

The last native speaker of Livonian, Griselda Kristina, died in 2013 in Canada at the age of 103.

With her passing, the historical continuity of a people who, for centuries, had found themselves at the crossroads of the interests of various empires and states came to an end.

How did it happen that a people who gave their name to the Livonian Crusade and the Livonian War disappeared?

The answer lies not in a single war, but in the centuries-long struggle among great powers that shaped the fate of the Baltic region.

The struggle for dominance between the Scandinavian kingdoms, Germany, and Russia turned these lands into a constant zone of conflict.

Starting in the Middle Ages, the only indigenous people in the region who managed to become an independent political entity were the Lithuanians, who first established their own Grand Duchy and later formed a strong union with Poland.

Later, the Latvians and Estonians also established their own modern nation-states.

However, the fourth indigenous people — the Livonians — were unable to adapt to these historical changes and gradually disappeared.

The dispersal of the male Livonian population across various armies, the destruction of their traditional way of life, deportations, and migration only accelerated this process.

A similar historical pattern was observed in North America following the arrival of Europeans there.

The Anglo-Spanish and Anglo-French wars did not destroy the empires themselves, but as a result of these processes, dozens of indigenous peoples of the New World disappeared from the historical stage.

Today, the names of many of these people are remembered only by a handful of specialists.

Ukraine officially recognized the existence of indigenous peoples on its territory only in 2021.

This decision was made seven years after the annexation of Crimea in 2014 and shortly before the start of the full-scale war in 2022.

The most prominent of these peoples are Crimean Tatars. In addition to them, the ancient indigenous peoples of Crimea include the Crimean Jews and the Karaites, who follow the Torah.

The Rumeans and Urums, who for a long time were simply referred to as “Mariupol Greeks,” are also an important part of this historical picture.

However, none of these people saw their numbers grow; on the contrary, all of them gradually declined.

Compared to the end of the 18th century, when Crimea still retained its multi-ethnic character, the presence of these communities has significantly diminished today.

This decline was the result of a historical process that has been ongoing for about 250 years.

First, the Nogays were expelled or exterminated.

Then, following the Crimean War of 1853–1856, the demographic structure of the peninsula changed radically.

The famine of 1920–1921 claimed the lives of a significant portion of the indigenous population.

During the Nazi occupation, about 80 percent of the Krymchaks were killed.

The deportation of the Crimean Tatars in 1944 marked the most severe turning point in their history.

In the first years following the deportation, approximately half of the population perished.

The Karaites who remained in Crimea during the Soviet era faced intense assimilation and Russification.

The period from the 1980s to 2013 can be considered a brief phase of normalization and revival in Crimea’s history.

Perestroika, followed by Ukraine’s independence, once again brought the cultural presence of indigenous peoples to the forefront.

However, the events that unfolded after 2014 and the war that began in 2022 have once again shattered this fragile balance.

The Crimean Tatars have once again found themselves at the center of a geopolitical confrontation.

In this war, Moscow is taking advantage of the opportunity to send its own indigenous peoples — whom it views as a potential threat to imperial unity — to the front lines. At the same time, the future of indigenous communities, which were already struggling to survive within Ukraine, has once again become uncertain.

The particularly extensive destruction of Mariupol in 2022 could mark a historic rupture for the Rumean and Urum communities. Today, the Crimean Tatars face a similar vulnerability.

Therefore, this is not merely a military or geopolitical issue, but also a humanitarian and cultural one.

The warring parties must avoid sending representatives of these already small indigenous peoples into the most destructive combat zones.

After all, for small people, major wars mean more than just human casualties.

Sometimes the demise of a people on the battlefield signifies the end of its historical continuity.

History offers a clear lesson: the regret that arises after a people’s disappearance can no longer change anything.

The key is to act in time to protect these people while they are still alive.

The history of the Livonians serves as historical proof of this.

And the indigenous peoples of Crimea show that this story is not confined to the past — it continues today.