[lg policy] The Post-Soviet Wars: Part II

[Harold Schiffman]

The Post-Soviet Wars: Part II
Col. Robert E. Hamilton <https://www.fpri.org/contributor/robert-hamilton/>

December 19, 2017
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<https://www.fpri.org/article/2017/12/post-soviet-wars-part-ii/#>
U.S. Army Colonel Robert E. Hamilton is a Black Sea Fellow at FPRI.Read More
<https://www.fpri.org/contributor/robert-hamilton/>
Related article(s)

The Post-Soviet Wars: Part I
<https://www.fpri.org/article/2017/12/post-soviet-wars-part-i/>
Related Event

What is Eurasia? And Why Does it Matter?
<https://www.fpri.org/conference/what-is-eurasia-and-why-does-it-matter/>
(Source: gavinsblog/Flickr)

*This essay is based on a presentation at the Butcher History Institute for
Teachers on **What is Eurasia? And Why Does it Matter?*
<https://www.fpri.org/conference/what-is-eurasia-and-why-does-it-matter/>*,
October 21-22, 2017, sponsored by the Foreign Policy Research Institute,
the Slavic Studies Department at the University of Pennsylvania, and
Carthage College.*

The previous article, The Post-Soviet Wars: Part I
<https://www.fpri.org/article/2017/12/post-soviet-wars-part-i/>, advanced a
causal explanation for the post-Soviet wars, the wars that broke out in
Azerbaijan, Georgia, Moldova, Russia, Tajikistan, and Ukraine during and
after the collapse of the Soviet Union. To summarize, this explanation
argued that the legacies of Soviet ethno-federal policies left some
post-Soviet states with *institutionalized identity divisions. *Where these
existed, the collapse of the Soviet Union caused mobilization around these
identities and escalation of conflict between identity groups. Escalating
conflict invited *international intervention*, with the type of
intervention depending on the *geopolitical affiliation *of the target
state. States seen by Russia and the West as “Western” were targeted for
intervention focused on the de-escalation of conflict, led most often by
Western states and international institutions. States seen as
“non-Western,” on the other hand, were targeted for military intervention
by Russia, with Western states and international institutions paying scarce
attention to the conflicts.

The previous paper examined four cases to test this causal explanation. Two
of these—Georgia-Abkhazia and Moldova-Transnistria—escalated to violent
separatist conflict. The other two—Georgia-Ajaria and Estonia and its
Russian minority—were resolved peacefully. To illustrate how the process
unfolded in these four cases, I will use two historical vignettes. The
first will compare the processes of identity construction in Abkhazia and
Ajaria during the period of Soviet rule in Georgia, and the second will
compare the geopolitical affiliation of post-Soviet Moldova and Estonia,
showing how this affiliation influenced intervention decisions by external
actors. This paper will then conclude by detailing my research findings and
examining the conclusions that can be drawn from them.
*Identity Construction in Abkhazia and Ajaria*

Both Abkhazia and Ajaria had identities distinct from Georgians and
restless—sometimes violent—histories with Georgians prior to the Soviet
period. Abkhazia’s distinct identity was based upon an ethno-linguistic
difference from Georgians and a history of sometimes being united with
Georgia and sometimes separate. Ajaria’s difference from Georgia was
grounded in a religious distinction—the majority of Ajarians were Muslims
while Georgians are Christian—that was itself part of a 300-year legacy as
part of the Ottoman Empire. While Soviet policies served to strengthen the
pre-existing identity division between Abkhazians and Georgians, those same
policies erased the identity division between Ajarians and Georgians. The
policies I will use to trace the process of identity construction in Soviet
Abkhazia and Ajaria are language policies, ethnic/national classification
policies, and educational policies.

Soviet language policies in Abkhazia privileged the status and use of the
Abkhazian and Russian languages over Georgian. As part of the process
of *korenizatsiia
*(“indigenization”), Soviet officials classified Abkhazia as a “backward”
nation, entitling it to special promotion of the Abkhazian language, among
other things. So over the course of the Soviet period—aside from a period
of “Georgianization” under Stalin in the 1930-40s—the language of
instruction in Abkhazian was Abkhazian or Russian, despite the fact that
Abkhazia was part of the Georgian Soviet Socialist Republic (SSR). The
effect of these policies was that by the final Soviet census in Abkhazia in
1989, 97.3% of ethnic Abkhazians living there listed Abkhazian as their
native language.[1]
<https://www.fpri.org/article/2017/12/post-soviet-wars-part-ii/#_edn1> In
Ajaria, by contrast, Soviet language policies represented a comprehensive
and sustained effort to increase literacy in Georgian and eliminate the
regional peculiarities of the Ajarian dialect, which contained a large
number of Turkish loan words. Prior to the Soviet period, literacy in
Ajaria had been primarily in Turkish or Arabic; by the time of the Soviet
collapse, literacy in standard Georgian was essentially universal in
Ajaria. This change explains Christoph Zuercher’s assertion that the
assimilation of Ajarians was perhaps the greatest success of the Soviet
Georgian national project.[2]
<https://www.fpri.org/article/2017/12/post-soviet-wars-part-ii/#_edn2>

Ethnic classification policies also contributed to strengthening the
identity division between Georgians and Abkhazians. Over the more than
seven decades of Soviet rule in Georgia, Abkhazians remained on the
official list of Soviet nationalities, despite the fact that the Soviet
government eliminated almost one hundred other national categories, at
least in part in an attempt to demonstrate the “drawing together and
merging of peoples” predicted by Marxist ideology. For example, while there
were 188 national categories listed on the first all-union Soviet census in
1926, by 1939 that number had been reduced to 92. Among the national
categories eliminated in this period was that of the Ajarians. In the 1926
census, a slight majority of residents of Ajaria had classified themselves
as Ajarians,[3]
<https://www.fpri.org/article/2017/12/post-soviet-wars-part-ii/#_edn3> but
this category had disappeared by the 1939 census. The effects of the
disappearance of the Ajarian national category and the relentless
Georgianization campaign in Ajaria can be seen in the final Soviet census
in 1989, when 86% of Ajaria’s population self-identified as Georgians. As
Christoph Zuercher says, the disappearance of the Ajarians has a simple
explanation: “unlike other Caucasian ethnic groups, they had not been
deported but instead had fallen victim to the Soviet criteria for
classifying ethnic groups. Language was regarded as an indicator of
ethnicity, whereas religions were not. Hence, the Muslim Ajarians, speaking
a version of Georgian, were not qualified as a distinct ethnic group.”[4]
<https://www.fpri.org/article/2017/12/post-soviet-wars-part-ii/#_edn4>

Soviet education policies also contributed to strengthening the identity
division between Georgians and Abkhazians while virtually eliminating it
between Ajarians and Georgians. As discussed previously, for a large
majority of the period of Soviet rule, the language of instruction in
Abkhazia’s schools was Abkhazian through the fourth grade and Russian
thereafter. Furthermore, in 1978—in response to protests in Abkhazia—Soviet
authorities decreed the establishment of an Abkhazian State University. As
in many other Soviet universities, the humanities departments in the
Abkhazian State University housed what Anatol Lieven has called
“crypto-nationalists,”[5]
<https://www.fpri.org/article/2017/12/post-soviet-wars-part-ii/#_edn5>
scholars who used their academic positions to advance strong—though often
encoded in Marxist language—nationalist research agendas. So in Abkhazia
the education system—from the primary schools through the
university—promoted an identity and history that emphasized the
distinctiveness of the region and its people from the rest of the Georgian
SSR. In Ajaria, the process was exactly the opposite. Soviet authorities
closed all religious schools, which had been a source of the distinct
identity of Ajarians. They also ensured the language of instruction in
primary and secondary schools was Georgian, and they declined to allow the
establishment of a separate university in Ajaria. The history taught in
Ajaria’s schools emphasized the common roots of Ajarians and Georgians and
depicted the 300-year period of Ottoman rule in Ajaria as an historical
aberration, against which Ajarians had valiantly and consistently resisted.

So the period of Soviet rule in Georgia strengthened a pre-existing
identity division between Georgians and Abkhazians, while essentially
eliminating a pre-existing identity division between Georgians and
Ajarians. When the Soviet Union collapsed, the outcome in these two
regions, both of which had been Autonomous Soviet Socialist Republics
inside the Georgian SSR, was profoundly different. In Abkhazia, there was
mobilization around the distinct Abkhazian identity and escalation of
conflict between Abkhazians and Georgians. This conflict erupted into war
in August 1992, and the war ended 13 months later with the defeat of the
Georgian Army to a coalition of Abkhazian forces and militia groups from
the Russian North Caucasus, supported by the Russian armed forces. As this
was happening, Ajaria remained stable. Although there were political
disputes between the central government in Tbilisi and the regional
government in Batumi, these disputes remained confined to the relevant
political institutions, and did not escalate into large-scale violence.
*Geopolitical Affiliation and External Intervention in Moldova and Estonia*

As noted previously, the causal framework I advance to explain post-Soviet
conflict argues that where there are institutionalized identity divisions,
the onset of sudden political transition can cause mobilization around
identity groups and the escalation of conflict between them. This
escalating conflict draws the attention of external actors and causes them
to decide whether and how to intervene. In the former Soviet Union, the
factor that shaped that decision was the geopolitical affiliation of the
target state. States considered “Western” by Russia and the West—such as
Estonia—were targeted for conflict mitigation efforts by Western states and
international institutions. States considered “non-Western”—such as
Moldova—were often targeted for military intervention by Russia. This
section of the paper examines the geopolitical affiliation of these two
states and shows how this factor shaped intervention decisions.

Post-Soviet Moldova was seen in the West as “too small, too quiet and too
obscure” to be worth significant attention, despite the fact that it sits
squarely in Europe geographically. In Moscow, on the other hand, Moldova is
seen as a country where “Russian influence ought to be unchallenged.”[6]
<https://www.fpri.org/article/2017/12/post-soviet-wars-part-ii/#_edn6>
Although not important in a geostrategic sense, the Transnistrian region of
Moldova served as “a custodian of Soviet values and of Russian great-power
interests.”[7]
<https://www.fpri.org/article/2017/12/post-soviet-wars-part-ii/#_edn7> In a
reflection of these observations, the West was in no hurry to recognize
Moldova or admit it to international institutions after the collapse of the
Soviet Union. Moldova declared independence—as did several other Soviet
republics—after the collapse of the coup attempt against Gorbachev in
August 1991. Although the Moldovan declaration of independence came on
September 27, 1991, Western states did not recognize independent Moldova
until the formal end of the Soviet Union on December 25, 1991. While it
seems natural for the West not to recognize the independence of individual
Soviet republics while the Soviet Union still formally existed, Western
states did not follow this pattern with the Baltic Soviet republics,
including Estonia. Western states recognized Estonia’s independence
immediately after the collapse of the coup attempt in August, and the U.S.
Embassy in Tallinn opened in September of that year, three months before
the formal end of the Soviet Union. Estonia was also admitted as a member
of the Conference on Security and Cooperation in Europe (CSCE, now OSCE) in
September, while Moldova was not admitted until the end of January 1992.

This difference in how external states viewed Moldova and Estonia provides
the best explanation for how they responded to the escalating tensions in
each state. In Moldova, escalating tension between the primarily
Moldovan-speaking Bessarabian part of the country and Transnistria, where
Russian and Ukrainian were the most common languages, escalated into armed
conflict in March 1992. The intervention of the Russian 14th Army in
support of Transnistrian separatists settled the conflict in their favor by
July of that year. As Russia intervened, the West stood by. As the *Washington
Post* observed at the time, “State Department officials conceded there is
little the United States can do at this stage other than counsel patience
and caution. Western European nations have not been extensively involved,
and the Conference on Security and Cooperation in Europe, which has set
down rules for avoiding ethnic fighting, has yet to take a strong stand on
the Moldovan situation.”[8]
<https://www.fpri.org/article/2017/12/post-soviet-wars-part-ii/#_edn8> This
is despite the fact that Moldova had called for CSCE intervention in the
conflict from early on, hoping that international presence would prevent
the conflict from escalating and thereby remove any pretext for Russian
military intervention. As William Hill puts it, “the Moldovan authorities
in Chisinau appealed for support and assistance to the United Nations, the
OSCE, and a variety of European and North American states. The only
response came from Russia.”[9]
<https://www.fpri.org/article/2017/12/post-soviet-wars-part-ii/#_edn9>

Estonia’s experience was fundamentally different. Despite the fact that
Estonia was strategically important to Russia, since it has extensive
Baltic coastline and hosted Soviet naval bases, radar stations and air
defense sites, Russia exercised considerable restraint there. The West, on
the other hand, involved itself very early in an attempt to prevent
escalation of tensions between the Estonian government and the country’s
Russian minority, most of whom were concentrated in the northeast, along
the border with Russia. The peak of the crisis in Estonia was the
sovereignty referendum held in the east in July 1993. As the date of the
referendum approached, foreign press converged on the regional capital of
Narva, “positioning themselves to catch the early battles in what was
perhaps to be the next Transdniester.”[10]
<https://www.fpri.org/article/2017/12/post-soviet-wars-part-ii/#_edn10>
When voters in the east voted overwhelmingly for sovereignty and the
Estonian government declared the results invalid, expectation for violence
rose further. But in the end, the crisis abated with no large scale
violence, despite the fact that Russian troops were still stationed in
Estonia and could easily have fomented such violence had they chosen to do
so. A year after the referendum, despite serious misgivings about how the
Estonian government was treating its ethnic Russian population, Russia
withdrew its troops on schedule.

Whereas Russia restrained itself in Estonia, the West was active from early
on, attempting to prevent escalation to large-scale violence. The CSCE
deployed a conflict prevention mission to Estonia in February 1993.
Although the Estonian government initially resisted the deployment of this
mission out of concern with being put “on the level of Bosnia” and other
troubled European states, it eventually accepted the mission, which proved
to be helpful in preventing conflict because it gave the Russian population
“a trusted agent to go to for arbitrage.”[11]
<https://www.fpri.org/article/2017/12/post-soviet-wars-part-ii/#_edn11>
International institutions also used their leverage to force Estonia to
change how it dealt with its Russian minority, and these changes almost
certainly served to prevent escalation of conflict by reassuring Moscow.
The Council of Europe, for example, recommended changes to Estonia’s Law on
Aliens—the most threatening of the new laws to the rights of the Russian
minority—and Estonian President Lennart Meri insisted that parliament makes
those changes before he signed the bill. Another important Estonian law,
the one that allows non-citizens to vote in local elections, was also the
result of strong pressure from international institutions. Indrek Tarand,
the Estonian government’s representative in northeastern Estonia at the
time, recalls that the Estonian government was against the idea because of
a fear that it would cause Tallinn to lose control in the cities of the
northeast and result in ethnic enclaves inside Estonia. In the end, Tarand
says the government decided to accept the idea because it concluded that
“otherwise we will be outcasts in the international arena and we can stop
dreaming about the EU and things like that.”[12]
<https://www.fpri.org/article/2017/12/post-soviet-wars-part-ii/#_edn12>

So the experiences of Moldova and Estonia are fundamentally different.
Although both experienced mobilization around identity divisions and
escalation of conflict, in Moldova that conflict was enabled and its
outcome was eventually dictated by Russian military intervention. In
Estonia, the escalation of conflict was dampened by early and active
involvement of Western states and international institutions, and the
exercise of considerable restraint by Russia ensured a peaceful resolution
to the situation. In almost all other respects, Moldova and Estonia were
similar cases points to the geopolitical affiliation of each as the
variable predicting the outcome.
*Findings and Conclusions*

The vignettes above serve to illustrate the causal process at work in the
four cases discussed here. The following table provides another way of
illustrating this process and the observed outcomes in each case:

A review of the findings in the table reveals that the variables of
institutionalized identity divisions, political transition, and non-Western
geopolitical affiliation are individually necessary but jointly sufficient
for the onset and escalation of violent separatism. The cases of Abkhazia
and Transnistria follow this pattern. The Ajarian case shows that where
institutionalized identity divisions are lacking, rapid political
transition and non-Western geopolitical affiliation are not sufficient to
cause the escalation of conflict. The Estonian case provides interesting
insights, as it does not exactly follow the trajectory predicted by the
model, in that the Soviet collapse did not cause the expected level of
mobilization around identity divisions and escalation of conflict between
the Estonian government and Estonia’s Russian minority.

The reason for this is that the Soviet Union allowed an Estonian
nationalist movement to develop inside the Estonian Communist Party,
something it strictly forbade in Georgia or Moldova. The development of a
moderate nationalist wing within the Estonian Communist Party gave the
Party legitimacy and allowed the moderately nationalist Estonian Popular
Front to emerge from within the Party, thereby confining more radical
nationalists to non-governmental organizations. So in Estonia, the
legitimacy conferred upon the moderate nationalists within the Party
allowed them to fare well in Estonia’s first post-Soviet elections. In
Georgia and Moldova, by contrast, radical nationalists captured the
governments, putting the minorities in those countries in conflict with
their governments. In Estonia, the government was better positioned to
mediate between minorities and radical nationalist groups. Another reason
for the lower-than-expected mobilization and escalation in Estonia is its
geopolitical affiliation, which had a chilling effect on mobilization of
Russian minority, since it expected no intervention from Russia.

We can draw a number of conclusions from researching these four cases.
First, states sometimes construct and institutionalize identities among the
people they govern. While the construction and institutionalization of
identities may serve the state’s interests in the short term, these
identities can become bases for mobilization and escalation of conflict if
the state loses its capacity to regulate interaction among identity groups.
Next, although identities are constructed and not primordial or perennial,
they do matter to the people who hold them, and this includes leaders who
mobilize people along lines of identity. So, instead of viewing “ethnic
entrepreneurs” as cynical opportunists motivated purely by the pursuit of
power or wealth, we need to take a more nuanced view of their motivations.
This view should consider the possibility that leaders of groups in
conflict may in fact be deeply committed to the identity or ideology they
espouse, and may therefore not be amenable to being “bought off” by the
promise of wealth or power.

Turning to Soviet policies, the cases examined here undermine the
claim—often put forward by the leaders of the non-Russian post-Soviet
states—that Soviet ethno-federal policy amounted to a policy of “divide and
rule.” The accusation here is that the Soviet leaders intentionally
embedded “time bombs” inside the non-Russian republics of the Soviet Union,
in the form of ethnically defined autonomous regions, so that if these
republics tried to secede, they would in turn be confronted with their own
secessionist movements. While there was certainly an element of divide and
rule inherent in Soviet ethno-federal policies, they in fact represented a
sincere, if misguided, attempt to conform to Marxist ideological
prescriptions for ruling over a multi-ethnic state. The idea that ethnic
and national identities were but a stage in the development of human
consciousness and that the progression through this stage could be sped up
by state intervention was more important than power political
considerations in the design of the Soviet ethno-federal system. There are
two examples that bear out this assertion. First, as the case of Ajaria
shows, Soviet polices did not only divide people, but also served to
reunite peoples that had been divided for centuries. Second, the assertion
that Soviet leaders were motivated by Russian chauvinism and therefore
inserted ethnically defined autonomous regions into the non-Russian
republics is belied by the fact that 16 of the 20 autonomous republics in
the USSR were inside the Russian republic, and only four were in other
republics.

The next lesson we can draw is that we often overuse the label “ethnic
conflict’ to describe internal wars, when in fact ethnicity is not at the
heart of many of them. The Transnistria conflict is an example here.
Although it has been labelled an “ethnic conflict” between Moldovans on one
side and Russians and Ukrainians on the other, in fact members of all three
ethnic groups fought on both sides, the conflict was not characterized by
ethnic cleansing, and the ethnic groups involved remained relatively
dispersed after the war, rather than concentrating themselves into
defensible ethnic enclaves. The conflict in Transnistria was more about
different interpretations of Moldova’s history and different visions of its
future geopolitical affiliation than it was about ethnic groups fighting
each other. While clearly not all internal wars are ethnic conflicts, those
that have a significant ethnic component, like the Georgian-Abkhazian
conflict, are often far more violent and more intractable than conflict
devoid of a significant ethnic component.

The final lesson we can draw from an examination of the cases in this paper
is this: the geopolitical affiliation of a state is a better predictor of
the intervention decisions of external actors than is the strategic
significance of that state. The Moldovan and Estonian cases provide a good
contrast here. Estonia’s Baltic coastline, hosting of Soviet air, naval,
and radar installations and uranium-processing facilities made it
significantly more strategically important to Russia than was Moldova.
However, Russia intervened militarily in Moldova in response to the
escalation of conflict there, while it played a comparatively benign role
in Estonia. Russian reluctance about escalating the situation in Estonia
included withdrawing its troops on schedule despite the fact that Moscow
remained unhappy with Estonia’s citizenship laws, which it saw as
disenfranchising Russian-speakers in the country.

This two-part series
<https://www.fpri.org/article/2017/12/post-soviet-wars-part-i/> has argued
that the post-Soviet wars deserve further study and have advanced a causal
explanation for them based on the factors of institutions, identities, and
international intervention. They have argued that the legacies of Soviet
ethno-federal policies led to *institutionalized identity divisions* within
some Soviet republics. Where institutionalized identity divisions existed,
the sudden *political transition* of the Soviet collapse caused
*mobilization* around these identity divisions and *escalation of conflict*
between identity groups. This escalation of conflict drew the attention of
external actors and invited *international intervention*. In turn, the
*geopolitical
affiliation* of the target state determined both who intervened (Russia or
Western states) and the type of intervention (military or non-military).
Further research of the phenomenon of post-Soviet conflict will be critical
to understanding the ongoing war in Ukraine, in determining what the
post-Soviet conflicts might tell us about internal conflict in other areas
of the world, in allowing policymakers in Western states to make more
effective decisions about intervention in foreign conflicts and in allowing
them to better understand the intervention decisions of other states.
------------------------------

[1]
<https://www.fpri.org/article/2017/12/post-soviet-wars-part-ii/#_ednref1>
This is significantly above the average of 91.3% for all Autonomous Soviet
Socialist Republics, of which Abkhazia was one of 23 in the USSR.

[2]
<https://www.fpri.org/article/2017/12/post-soviet-wars-part-ii/#_ednref2>
Christoph Zuercher, *The Post-Soviet Wars: Rebellion, Ethnic Conflict and
Nationhood in the Caucasus *(New York: NYU Press, 2001), p. 201.

[3]
<https://www.fpri.org/article/2017/12/post-soviet-wars-part-ii/#_ednref3>
Mathijs Pelkmans, *Defending the Border: Identity, Religion and Modernity
in the Republic of Georgia *(Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 2007),
p. 10.

[4]
<https://www.fpri.org/article/2017/12/post-soviet-wars-part-ii/#_ednref4>
Zuercher, *The Post-Soviet Wars, *p. 201.

[5]
<https://www.fpri.org/article/2017/12/post-soviet-wars-part-ii/#_ednref5>
Anatol Lieven, *The Baltic Revolution: Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania and the
Road to Independence *(New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1993), p. 93.

[6]
<https://www.fpri.org/article/2017/12/post-soviet-wars-part-ii/#_ednref6>
William H. Hill, *Russia, the Near Abroad and the West: Lessons from the
Moldova-Transnistria Conflict, *(Washington, DC: Woodrow Wilson center
Press, 2012), p. 7.

[7]
<https://www.fpri.org/article/2017/12/post-soviet-wars-part-ii/#_ednref7>
Andrew Williams, “Conflict Resolution after the Cold War: the Case of
Moldova,” *Review of International Studies *25 (1999), p. 76.

[8]
<https://www.fpri.org/article/2017/12/post-soviet-wars-part-ii/#_ednref8>
Don Oberdorfer, “End Fighting in Moldova, U.S. Urges; Bush, Baker Unable to
Halt Escalation,” *The Washington Post*, June 23, 1992, p. A18.

[9]
<https://www.fpri.org/article/2017/12/post-soviet-wars-part-ii/#_ednref9>
Hill, *Russia, the Near Abroad and the West: Lessons from the
Moldova-Transnistria Conflict, *p. xi.

[10]
<https://www.fpri.org/article/2017/12/post-soviet-wars-part-ii/#_ednref10>
David Laitin, *Identity in Formation: The Russian-Speaking Populations in
the Near Abroad *(Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1999), p. 182.

[11]
<https://www.fpri.org/article/2017/12/post-soviet-wars-part-ii/#_ednref11>
Indrek Tarand, former Estonian government special representative to the
northeast. Interview with the author, July 17, 2012.

[12]
<https://www.fpri.org/article/2017/12/post-soviet-wars-part-ii/#_ednref12>
Indrek Tarand, former Estonian government special representative to the
northeast. Interview with the author, July 17, 2012.
arold F. Schiffman

Professor Emeritus of
 Dravidian Linguistics and Culture
Dept. of South Asia Studies
University of Pennsylvania
Philadelphia, PA 19104-6305

Phone:  (215) 898-7475
Fax:  (215) 573-2138

Email:  haroldfs at gmail.com
http://ccat.sas.upenn.edu/~haroldfs/

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