How to Win Voters, Do the Right Thing and Impress People
Andrus Ansip's ratings as prime minister are dropping, and Estonians have almost as little confidence in government institutions as in other European countries. Although there is no substitute for the necessarily painfully slow process of winning back the public's trust, Ansip might also benefit in the short term from a dash of stagecraft and sleight of hand - the same mixture of boldness and brazenness he displayed on occasions such as April 2007. What better way than to start by bringing the most infamous Reform Party scofflaw of all back to the country to serve her sentence?
Many have heard the true story about how Lennart Meri defaced George H. W. Bush's antique globe to mark the location of a good fly-fishing river in Kamchatka. Let's be clear: just like what I will shortly propose, damaging state property in the White House is not technically legal, and should be roundly condemned. Except in this case. Not only did the Secret Service not arrest the then-diplomat for marring the heirloom, 20 years later we remember the late president as daring and quirky and we still tell the globe anecdote to illustrate his curious brand of chutzpah. A confident wave and a clipboard will get you far, as Michael Keaton observed; a quality ballpoint even further.
What is the oft-forgotten lesson of the globe story? It's the fact that Meri defaced federal government property not once, but twice, returning to the scene of the "crime" five months later to do it again, and managing to score even more points with Bush Sr.
In the same way, Andrus Ansip needs to come up with something to rekindle the spirit of 2007. Back then, Estonia took what seemed like a considerable risk - many called it unnecessary - to remove a Soviet "liberator" statue from central Tallinn. Today the damage from the ensuing riots has been fixed, Russia did not invade, and hardly no one misses the damn thing or drinks vodka at the site. The statue itself is safe and sound. Naturally - nota bene - Ansip's move also came with considerable benefits in terms of domestic popularity, but it was also the right action.
OPTION A: Operation Galojan
If the Soviet liberator statue in central Tallinn was a rallying point for government haters and other riffraff, the socialite embezzler Anna-Maria Galojan has a somewhat similar effect from central London. Just like the "liberation of Tallinn" in 1944, no one should take the still-at-liberty Galojan seriously. Few do. But over the long run, her taunting of the Estonian government from afar leaves a bad taste, and a number of fellow travelers have been drawn to her cause, apparently not all of them personal enablers and consorts. She's no Charter 12 dissident, she's just a crook who happened to be in the Reform Party, and now she's living scot-free in merry olde England.
The British authorities have denied extradition, with a labored explanation of how they cannot be reasonably sure people can get justice in countries in the mainland section of Europe. As morally and intellectually flaccid judges with first names such as "Lord" and "High" dither about returning a convicted felon to a fellow European country governed by the rule of law, it's up to Estonia to resort to decisive "extralegal" ways of bringing her to justice. The British would not expect anything less of us, anyway: we are an "Eastern European" country.
Operation Galojan would obviously have to be highly undercover, but it need not be elaborate. The cover story to lure her out of hiding could simply advertise a chance to appear on a community-access station, or perhaps a large sale of designer handbags in a Thames port, where a freighter would be waiting to transport her back to Estonia.
It's not as impossible or crazy as it sounds. If the MI5 can't be involved, perhaps Estonia's good ally Israel could provide an assist, having a wealth of experience organizing delicate covert operations on foreign soil.
Movie rights are in the offing, and the public relations stakes for the Reform Party are high. Ansip could deny all direct responsibility, while the discerning would be quite wise to what they just witnessed: British bureaucracy foundered in a morass of snooty debate, while little Estonia with its special forces prowess took matters into its own hands.
She would be treated extremely well throughout it all. Once back home, Galojan could be equipped with an electronic ankle bracelet - with rhinestones - and re-sentenced to community service instead of hard time. And, of course, counseling. It's clear that the woman needs help, and it doesn't look like it's going to come from the NHS.
OPTION B: Stealing back the presidential regalia
Britain is of course still a good ally, but there's less need for false morality on the next one. Everybody knows what happened in 1940: Russia stole Estonia at gunpoint and decapitated the leadership, taking, among the rest of the spoils, a morbid souvenir, as the writer Justin Petrone has put it - the gem-laden chain and pendant of the head of state, Konstantin Päts. They remain in Moscow, in the Armoury of the Kremlin Museums.
It would be one thing if Russia said flat-out, "we will never give them back." What is humiliating is that we have to periodically endure reports of how some undersecretary met with their Russian counterpart and was promised: yes, the relics will be returned sometime soon.
Who are they kidding?
To put it into Hollywood terms, if Galojan was "Argo," this one calls for an old-fashioned jewelry heist.
Reports are that the regalia are not on public display, but in a vault. The question comes up: would anyone really miss one ruby- and diamond-studded gold chain among the sumptuous imperial regalia and Faberge eggs in the Orucheinaya Palata?
The operation may not be that difficult. Perhaps a single employee might be bribed bez problema. Another possible opening lies in the ongoing renovation of the Lenin Mausoleum, which is causing some confusion in the general Kremlin area. This could be exploited as well.
Once back home, the regalia could be offered to the president in a public ceremony. The President, a man of impeccable taste but not given to ostentation, should decline, saying that the regalia are from another, different era. He could also express outrage at the brazen theft from the Russian museum and promise a full investigation.
With each day that the regalia remain on Estonian soil, the irate phone calls from the Russian Embassy will mount. The Foreign Ministry in Moscow will issue statements and threaten sanctions. Not to worry, though: they have the assurances of our highest consideration. Our people will call their people. After all, a solution is sure to be found on the undersecretarial level.
OPTION C: Pals with Palestine
As another possibility (but only if the Mossad refuse to assist on either Plan A or B), Ansip could recognize Palestine in full, in a total reversal of the current finger-in-the-wind policy.
Is recognizing Palestine the right thing to do? This is less clear. But sometimes it's important to do something that may be slightly wrong in a very confident way.
Recognizing Palestine and establishing diplomatic relations and a trade mission to Gaza would make Estonia a darling of the left overnight - while not necessarily doing anything on the economic front to harm its Friedmanite credibility, either. Oh, there would be blowback, and no small amount. There would be accusations of anti-Semitism, even though we would continue to advocate a two-state solution.
But it would be an endless source of subject-changing capital in debates with Social Democrat opponents. "No, Sven, perhaps it wasn't such a good idea to invest the government reserves into small-cap equity, but at least we brought peace to the Middle East."
The peace won't last, of course, but maybe it would endure through local elections in October.
The opinions in this piece are solely those of the author, who emphasizes that no individual should take the law into their own hands.