Eastward to Tartary, Robert Kaplan takes us on a journey through the wreckage of empires: Soviet, Ottoman, and Hellenistic. His path winds from Hungary through Romania and Bulgaria and then on to Turkey, Syria, Azerbaijan and Turkmenistan. He introduces us to the social and political climates of countries that were shrouded in mystery under communism or largely ignored due to American unfamiliarity with the region. Unlike Paul Thoureaux and other American writers, Kaplan seems to have an interest in the political and demographic situation of the region, and we see these countries portrayed through the eyes of a student of socio-political environments. Kaplan starts off in Hungary, the most western of the countries he visits, both geographically and psychologically. The Hungarians, Magyar misfits in mostly-Slavic Eastern Europe, have ramped up their economy since the fall of communism. Hungary is eager to join the new Europe and considers itself central European rather than in the East. Budapest is portrayed as a modernized yet ancient city that is hard to believe emerged from the staid wreckage of socialism. Kaplan notes that Hungarian politicians are driven by both desire to merge with Europe and nationalist instincts: Hungarian leaders are quick in their rhetoric to remind Eastern Europe that the government stands for the interests of Hungarians living in surrounding countries. Their ethnicity has been a presence in these countries for centuries dating back to the Hapsburg Empire.

He makes his way to Romania and later Bulgaria, whose juxtaposition of new wealth and ubiquitous poverty jar his sensibilities. These countries see themselves as on the cusp of the next wave of Euro-expansion that follows the 2004 round. As of yet, their governments have yet to meet the deficit spending requirements and other financial considerations required for membership. He notes the pettiness of the people in scrounging for seeming trifles of money.

The country's new rich dominate the center of Bucharest, which contains one...

These he claims are a new phenomenon, and compares them to the bandits and highwaymen of folk legend. He reminds the reader that Bucharest was once an inexpensive alternative to Paris for the Bohemians of the earlier part of the 20th century and sold its agricultural produce to the markets of the west. He hints could happen again if the European Union gives Romania and Bulgaria a second look.
In Turkey, Kaplan portrays a modernizing west, a traditionalist east, and an anarchist Kurdish fronteir, all underscored by the omnipresence of the secular, nationalist military. He speaks at length of the interplay between the regiments quick to preserve the legacy of Ataturk and the parliamentary government; noting that members of the latter group are never immune to the threat of imprisonment. He describes cities like Istanbul and Antioch in the context of their fabled histories.

Syria's oppressive regime, headed by president Hafez al-Assad, is also contrasted with its vast history and the nature of its people. Kaplan describes the ruins of a Roman cemetery that he finds while eating a lunch of goat cheese and olives in the Syrian desert: "The carved faces of the dead emerged from the canyon's soft volcanic rock in all the earthen tones of a rich palette." The interplay between Israel and the region, and perspectives of the United States and the West never escape him. As he treks to…