Estonia and Russia, 20 Years on: Stuck in History
It's not so much the military threat. It's not the border treaty or even an incompatible business ethic. It goes deeper than that.
Will we live to see the day that a president of the Russian Federation will set foot on Estonian soil? If one takes into account the way the Estonian-Russian relationship has developed over the past two decades, one might tend to answer this question with an unequivocal "no." Many observers have drawn most pessimistic conclusions regarding the future prospects of bilateral relations, and sometimes that pessimism has turned out to be justified.
Yet, in this manner one might risk overlooking the variety of factors that the relationship actually consists of. Each of those factors should be assessed in its own way. Then we will see that some of them have gradually lost importance and some of them hardly seem to affect political relations, while, on the other hand, others sometimes cause serious tensions.
Although several Estonian politicians and opinion makers contributed to the impression that Estonia would be the next victim of Russia’s neo-imperialist crusade in the summer of 2008, the truth is that the country has been relatively safe behind the NATO dykes ever since it joined the alliance in 2004. It may sound slightly cynical, but tiny Georgia was in fact the only kind of country that the Russian army with its aging, rusty equipment could possibly invade; due to NATO’s technological superiority, Russia would never have dared to embark on reckless adventures in the Baltics. Even the chicanes of Russian MIGs violating Estonian airspace seem to be a thing of the past now. Of course, Estonia should always remain alert, as Russia is a most unpredictable neighbor, but grosso modo the military dimension is not dominating relations any more – or should not be doing so.
A factor that used to sour Estonian-Russian ties quite frequently in the 1990s and the first half of the 2000s was Russian economic pressure – as perceived by Estonia. Russia denied its small neighbor the Most Favored Nation status in 1994 and invented creative excuses to ban Estonian fish, meat and vegetables from its market. However, since the EU enlargement in 2004, Russia can no longer apply such measures at random, because Estonia is part of the common European market now. We will never know for sure, whether Russian entrepreneurs were indeed forced by the Kremlin to cut exports to Estonia and stop the cargo destined for its harbors after the Bronze Soldier riots broke out in Tallinn in 2007. It appears, however, that more than four years later, trade and transit issues are no longer in the political spotlight.
That leaves what we can define as "the historical factor." Estonia is a relatively young state, founded in 1918, that is still defining its national identity, a process that was brutally interrupted in 1940. After the restoration of independence, Estonia embraced the Tartu peace treaty of 1920 as its "birth certificate," as the late Lennart Meri once termed it, and the idea of legal continuation of the Republic during the Soviet occupation has become an integral part of Estonian national identity. The country vehemently rejects the Russian notion that it joined the Soviet Union voluntarily in August 1940, ceased to exist as a subject of international law and became independent in 1991 by coincidence, like the other Soviet republics.
"Tartu" has also strongly influenced Estonia’s approach to the border and citizenship issues, prompting Russia to make allegations of "territorial revisionism" and discrimination of the Russian-speaking minority. Due to the rather clumsy way the Estonian Parliament dealt with the ratification of the border treaty in 2005, it never entered into force, but in everyday practice, de facto border does not cause any problems – although it is odd that the EU’s external border is not "complete."
As to the "discrimination" accusations: these have certainly not abated, since the leadership in Moscow still finds them most useful in blurring the numerous social problems Russia is facing. Yet, it appears that Russian criticism has become more ad hoc and is no longer elaborating on the continuity-voluntary accession antithesis ("We were one Soviet Union, so the labor emigrants had every right to move to the Pribaltika") in such an outspoken manner.
A second aspect of this historical factor has entailed even stronger eruptions of emotions and has become, one could argue, the sore spot of Estonian-Russian relations: what the Russians normally call the Great Patriotic War.
It is no coincidence that the recent Erna Raid, the Estonian Legion reunion in Sinimäe and the Alfred Rosenberg exhibition in the Estonian History Museum evoked such strong, resolute reactions from the Russian Foreign Ministry: "To cover up the crimes committed by [Nazi henchmen engaged in the conduct of an aggressive war of conquest on the side of the Axis states] with references to the 'struggle for national liberation' is blasphemous."
Russia considers "the war against Fascism" its exclusive historical domain, the main pillar upholding its national identity. This mantra has also offered the wounded great power – that still has to come to terms with the loss of the empire of Peter I, Catherine II and Stalin – a kind of consolation. What else, looking back, can Russia be proud of? Tchaikovsky’s "Swan Lake"?
Little Estonia has indeed dared to challenge this sacred myth, by presenting Fascism and Communism as mutually exchangeable evils and by portraying the Legion members as devoted defenders of their homeland. The Estonian Foreign Ministry was quick to respond: "The statement issued by the Foreign Ministry of the Russian Federation today is erroneous and based on ideological clichés; [Estonia] denounces any ideological manipulation of this topic."
Twenty years on, the military and economic factors are not at top of the agenda anymore. Tallinn can hide itself behind the broad shoulders of NATO and the EU. Even the Tartu peace treaty debate has disappeared to the background. No, Estonian-Russian relations are currently being overshadowed by the tragic events that took place 70 years ago. The irony is that the two countries have become "mirrors"; they need each other to reaffirm their own (national) self-esteem and the other one's "otherness." With a possible return to power of V. V. Putin under way, these mirrors might be glanced at even more frequently.
Jeroen Bult