Tuesday night marked the end of a round of five local community info session-meetings held in Southeastern Estonia where representatives of the Estonian Defense Forces (EDF), the Ministry of Defense and the Estonian Center for Defense Investments (ECDI) came to talk to and take questions from area residents about the Baltic Defense Line, a recently announced plan for the three neighboring Baltic state to line their eastern borders with hundreds of defense bunkers and support points.

On one hand, seemingly plenty of information about the overall plan has been made available since January, in both my native languages no less; the Ministry of Defense has even been compiling a FAQ regarding the project, which it intends to expand based on questions that come up during their info session tour.

On the other, I as a local resident whose home and property is located in the middle of the swath destined to be riddled rather soon with reportedly hundreds of defense bunkers still had more questions than answers – and I suspected I wasn't the only one.

Besides, Setomaa, well before becoming an eponymous municipality in Estonia's nationwide reform in 2017, is a rather unique region – the homeland of the Seto peoples, a distinct group still very much alive and around today. Since the restoration of Estonia's independence in 1991, the region has already been painfully divided in two by the southeastern border – known legally as the "temporary control line" as the modern border treaty still remains unratified by Russia – which ceded much of the post-War of Independence Petseri County recognized by the Treaty of Tartu, including the Setos' historic and cultural center of Petseri (Pechory), to Russian control. This de jure border split the broader Seto community, but also families from their family graves, children from farms and lands they should have inherited, and in one case I was told about, even the owner of a farm from the sauna on their own property.

Previously, provisions were in place to make it easier for local residents and Seto groups to cross the border to visit family and family graves, attend traditional Seto celebrations – some of which have historically been tied to a particular village, for example – and otherwise facilitate cross-border movement in either direction. Even now, the same Koidula border checkpoint that has been in the news in recent months, located just a stone's throw from Petseri on the other side, sees a not insignificant number of people still cross the Estonian-Russian border as often as daily; there are folks who live in Pechory but work in Värska or at care homes in Saatse and even Ristipalo, and people who live on the Estonian side of Setomaa but who have family that ended up on the other side when the new border was drawn.

So I had a feeling that round these parts, there would be no divorcing these additional intersections from the defense line project, for better or for worse. I received an invitation to attend Monday's Värska info session as a local resident anyway, but would be attending arguably even more so to watch and listen to local, particularly Seto locals', sentiment. After all, facts and figures have been and will surely continue to be reported either way, both by state authorities and the news, but facial expressions and whispered exchanges likely won't even make it into the minutes of the meeting, much less any official reports.

When I arrived at Värska Cultural Center around 4:40 p.m. on Monday, just 20 minutes before the info session was scheduled to begin, there didn't seem to be any more people around than usual, and the building looked largely dark. Tucked between the pine trees, the fenced-in grounds of the yellow, green and pink kindergarten basically across the street, meanwhile, were filled with flashes of color and playful shouts as kids ran around playing while waiting to be picked up. I wondered if I had the wrong day, or wrong time. Classic.

Stepping inside, I saw the municipal mayor, someone – maybe also a municipal government official, I couldn't quite remember – in a burgundy and white SETOMAA hoodie, someone in digital camo – okay, I was where I was supposed to be.

The main auditorium was set up with rows of chairs, both already occupied and continuing to fill up. One of the officials I briefly spoke with after the meeting began confirmed that all of the previous info sessions to date had likewise been well attended. People would continue to sneak in and grab a seat quietly even after the presentation had begun, many apparently arriving straight from work, but later I counted around 60 people in the hall, all told.

'Everything changed'

Setomaa Municipal Mayor Raul Kudre (SDE) admitted to me before the meeting began that he hadn't personally made it to the previous meeting down in Meremäe last Friday, but had been told that it went well, with plenty locals attending and a lot of meaningful discussion between them and the officials that had come to talk with them.

"Previously, we had even been working toward visa freedom in the region," Kudre recalled, referring to a proposal by the governor of the neighboring Pskov Oblast as recently as 2019 to not just introduce electronic visas but also implement a three-day visa freedom period to visitors of the oblast.

Pskov Oblast spans from the northeastern shore of Lake Peipus all the way down through the southern end of Latvia's eastern border; crucially for the region, it also includes Petseri (Pechory) and other historic Seto lands and villages, such as Irboska (Izborsk), Radaja (Sigovo), Pankjavitsa (Panikovichi), Taeluva (Tailovo) and Laura (Lavry).

"Since then, everything changed in a way none of us expected," Kudre continued, referring to increasing sanctions against the Russian Federation and significantly reduced cross-border movement and increasingly closed eastern borders since Russia launched its full-scale invasion of Ukraine two years ago.

A lot of this is context that literally goes unsaid in person, because it's such an inextricable part of everyday life here; it has already seen Seto events traditionally held in villages on the other side of the border develop mirror events in villages on this side of it, and local residents grieve all over again over not being able to go tend to family graves anymore. Cultural and commercial visas came with their own difficulties and risks before, but in recent years, the trend has been toward coming to terms with this new reality and adjusting accordingly.

Like Estonia's new border infrastructure, the construction of which was completed all the way through the Piusa River in December, the Baltic Defense Line project will be another more permanent demarcation of that de jure temporary control line. On Monday evening, however, locals' questions and comments almost entirely had to do with the practical and even mundane instead.

"Will there be bathrooms in the bunkers?" shouted out one local as soon as the concluding slide of the official presentation hit the projector screen. The auditorium erupted into laughter, releasing any tension it may have collectively been holding.

Turned out the answer, for now at least, is no, although the bunkers and other infrastructure elements are still only in the design phase. Kaido Tiitus, adviser to the Ministry of Defense's Undersecretary for Defense Readiness Susan Lilleväli, emphasized that the bunkers themselves – planned to be around 35 square meters, or 375 square feet, in size – really would be very basic in terms of features, but that this is where the support points would come in.

Media reports even internationally have frequently cited the figure of 600 bunkers planned to be dug along Estonia's northeastern and southeastern borders, but the bunkers themselves are just one part of the planned new defense infrastructure – and constitute its last mile, so to speak, as I explained it to one person who asked about the meeting later.

Projected 30 support points in the southeast

The basic premise is that a network of distribution lines, depots and support points will be built along Estonia's northeastern and southeastern land borders – and as deep as 40 kilometers inland – and the defense bunkers, in turn, will be built positioned around support points. These support points will be where bathrooms, showers and other such facilities will be located.

Tiitus noted that the plan is to utilize state-owned land to the greatest extent possible, simply because this involves the fewest headaches and least red tape, but acknowledged that the vast majority of land in this part of Southeastern Estonia is privately owned. According to the current published timeline, talks with landowners affected by the initial planned locations of defense depots began in January already, and next in line are owners of land where the defense bunkers themselves are hoped to be built, with a goal of the bunkers' final locations being determined by this November.

The goal is to get shovels in the ground by next year.

The actual planning is being done by the Estonian Division of the EDF, but according to the ministry official, current figures based on baseline analyses and volume calculations suggest that some 30 support points will be built throughout the Southeastern operative direction – meaning in Võru and Põlva counties. How many of these are planned for Setomaa Municipality specifically should be revealed by the EDF by the end of the year.

A major topic of interest Monday night was the question of land ownership itself. Broadly speaking, a few different avenues are possible at this point, Tiitus explained, with land acquisition options including the sale of all or part of a property based on future value as appraised by qualified professionals "plus a 20-percent incentive." In this case, all associated costs and fees, from the appraisal to the notary, would be covered by the state, and the income earned from the sale would be tax exempt.

Another option is the exchange of all or part of a property based on current market value, on condition that the property being exchanged falls within the same location class or one better. The official noted that anyone interested in this option wouldn't be restricted to accepting an exchange property in the same area either. "So if life has taken you toward the Haapsalu area or Harju County, for example, then that's possible," he added.

If someone still doesn't want to give up their land, then it may be possible to take that into account in the planning of bunker locations to some extent, he continued. But should push come to shove at some point, and Estonia end up in a heightened level of defense readiness, then other laws and systems would kick into effect, and at that point owners could face the duty to grant use (sundkasutus) or expropriation (sundvõõrandamine) of their property.

Storage for carrots

Others asked and talked about whether these defense bunkers could be used by locals in peacetime, or how movement around their locations might be affected.

The bunkers are intended to be covered by soil and vegetation again once built, with the end result looking not unlike typical Estonian root cellars. Tiitus said that locals will continue to be allowed to freely pick wild berries and forage for wild mushrooms around the structures, and added that if someone wants to store their carrots in one of the bunkers, then that will likely remain negotiable.

"They'll just have to take into account that should we be attacked, their carrots will be replaced by troops," he quipped, eliciting another round of laughter in the hall.

An elderly woman next to me leaned in and whispered in Seto, half-joking that feeding carrots stowed in defense bunkers to the troops would be one way locals could contribute to the cause.

More seriously, she recalled how during the war, people would sneak up to the perimeter at the prison camp in Petseri and try to pass in carrots and other food. A good reminder that for many folks in the area, this wasn't their first rodeo; many had lived longer under occupation than they have in "re-independent" Estonia.

So the evening went, with more somber questions – such as whether someone's farm and home being located in the middle of three different support points was more likely to draw fire, with the answer being that in the event that Estonia is attacked, they should be evacuating regardless – interspersed with more lighthearted questions and comments.

Like the municipal mayor told me before the meeting, humor helps a great deal in situations like this. "It's even been joked that should Russia attack, we can finally take back Petseri County," Kudre said with a half-smile. This was yet another case of a lot of unsaid context – a case of not needing to verbalize the "But we know that..."

During the info session Q&A, Kudre spoke about how the construction of the Baltic Defense Line through the region could be leveraged as an opportunity for Setomaa Municipality – be this assurances about Värska's high school remaining open despite its small size, increased investments in area roads or assurances the state would take on more of their maintenance, boosting contributions to the "Young People to Setomaa" program that provides financial support to young families for home improvements. Meaning things that would contribute to residents remaining and even attracting new residents to the municipality, which in turn would contribute to the area's security and defense, including in the form of potential additional new volunteers for the Estonian Defense League (Kaitseliit).

This angle seemed to be a popular one; he wasn't the only one to talk about it.

It's impossible to say at this point whether, what and how much of this would be feasible, and the EDF and state officials present did not jump to make any promises. From what I've heard around, however, they have been taking notes at each of the info sessions – in Räpina, Misso, Meremäe, and now also Värska and Vastseliina – and they were scheduled to report to the Ministry of Regional Affairs and Agriculture's Southeastern Estonian government committee on Wednesday.

In any event, sentiments among the crowd at Monday's meeting in Värska seemed to range from reserved, even skeptical, to practical, to committed and encouraged, whether in reconciliation with the realities of living on Estonia's border with Russia and the current state of play, or out of devotion to their, the Setos' homeland – not that the two are mutually exclusive.

One local had shouted out the suggestion to build some kind of defense industry production facility right here in Värska – right on top of the Värska Originaal mineral water plant in town – because that would mean more area jobs for locals too.

Another local homeowner described how her family has put a lot of work into their old farm, including a root cellar, and asked whether their root cellar could be of defense use in wartime, and whether area residents could somehow better take potential wartime use into account when putting work into their homes and farms.

Officials did discuss a bit about how local civilians would surely have a key role to play in the event of possible armed conflict. Tiitus had noted that while the locations of the bunkers couldn't possibly remain a secret, including from the adversary, no maps as such will be published specifically detailing all of their locations. Locals, however, would of course be aware of infrastructure on and around their properties and village and surrounding areas.

He mentioned that in addition to membership in the Defense League – several members of which he recognized looking around the room – regular civilians would also be able to help keep an eye out for unusual activity and report on movements, as they would know best if something was out of place.

In an analysis published early last month, Lukas Milevski, a Baltic Sea Fellow at the Philadelphia-based think tank Foreign Policy Research Institute (FPRI), noted that the planned Baltic Defense Line "runs counter to the doctrinally preferred Western – and especially American – defensive posture, which is an operationally elastic defense premised upon maneuver warfare." In maneuver defense, he described, terrain isn't valued highly in an operational sense, with land to be given up if necessary and then recaptured later.

"A good in-depth defense premised on bunkers and trenches may provide tactical elasticity, but it clearly identifies operational elasticity as undesirable," Milevski wrote. "There is clear incompatibility here, and in this Baltic case, NATO has politically positioned itself in a way that will require some sort of move away from maneuver defense, at least on a major geographical scale."

Officials Monday night brought up the same point about giving up land in a conflict, acknowledging that that indeed used to be the general understanding – that if Russia were to attack, large swaths of Southeastern or Northeastern Estonia would likely immediately be goners for the time being, to be won back later. But, in a point often said but which hit quite differently when being told this in person, at a local info session literally dedicated to the topic of hundreds of defense bunkers destined to be dug throughout my area, this changed "after Ukraine," meaning after Russia launched its full-scale invasion of Ukraine in February 2022.

"Now it's necessary to defend Estonia from the first meter," the Defense Ministry adviser emphasized, using the words of the state's official new stance. He didn't say it, but I thought of Bucha. Grim.

The representatives also reminded people that the bunkers weren't the only planned line of defense, just part of it. "80 percent of the job would be anti-artillery warfare, yes," Tiitus replied when asked if the biggest threat on the ground here would be artillery fire.

At one point Tiitus called an end to the official info session, but attendees were welcomed to come speak with him and the other officials who had spoken during the meeting, including Ministry of Defense Strategic Communications Department Deputy Director Roland Murof, Maj. Taavi Moor, chief of staff of the Engineer Battalion, 1st Infantry Brigade, and ECDI representative Mihkel Madalvee. A good dozen or so people of all ages took them up on the offer, and some were still there talking even as I got my coat on and walked out into the twilight drizzle.

Before I left, however, I spoke with a certain local Defense League member to get an idea of how he felt after this info session. During the meeting, he spoke several times, addressing the crowd in the regional language and directly in a way that suggested he is someone they listen to. Not all authorities are official, right?

"For me, things will change for the better," he said, likewise addressing me in Seto. "Because at some point I knew that we were the front line – well, first the Border Guard, but then it's us. And I knew that we've got good equipment. But I knew that when it came to firepower – well, let's just say I didn't feel the most confident."

Hearing that NATO would defend Estonian soil "from the first meter" changed that.

"So those young, strong fellas will move ahead of us and we'll move back behind them – that makes us feel much braver and better," he said.

Like with Kudre, I asked him as well about how he feels about a more permanent division line being built straight through the Setos' historic lands.

He said that the Setos on the Estonian side of the border had maintained active relations with the "Petseri side" since the 90s, and described how Setos on the Russian side operate more independently these days – even their own leelo choir remains active.

"At the same time, when I think about the Siberian Setos – we lost touch with them practically around when Estonia declared independence, around the [War of Independence]," the local community leader recalled. "But those connections were restored in the 2010s. So there have been periods where one side or another has been cut off from their distant cousins."

The Setos are facing a period of being cut off by Russia from the Petseri side, he continued. "But I hope what that knowledge has given us is the drive to hold on long enough until maybe a change comes in Russia. And God willing, we'll be able to come together again then and live a normal, peaceful life next to Russia," he said.

Going back to what the municipal mayor had brought up, I asked the local Defense League member whether he also believes the Baltic Defense Line being built through Setomaa could be a good opportunity to leverage for the good of the area.

"I'd put it this way: what should be discussed with the [Estonian] government and the ministries is how we could be stronger," he said. "What could they do to ensure that there would be young people, people here that would become those that help Estonia feel considerably safer within the Seto Wall."

I asked in follow-up whether he feels that this section of the border, of the future defense line, is that much stronger for the fact that this is the Setos' homeland – that this is their home.

"Om küll," he said without blinking. Yes, it is.

Officials from the Ministry of Defense, EDF and ECDI are awaiting an invitation from the northeastern border city of Narva-Jõesuu to organize a similar info session for locals there. I even spent a year living in Narva prior to the start of the COVID-19 pandemic, after my spouse spent several years working there seasonally, but I couldn't begin to anticipate how defense line info sessions would go up there.

But this much I can say – despite stubborn stereotypes about that region's residents, especially of a certain native language, that's their home too.

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