Estonia was thrust into the international spotlight this spring after mass unrest (riots and looting) erupted in Tallinn on April 26 and 27. During the disturbances, over 1,000 people, mainly - but not exclusively - ethnic Russian youths, were detained by police and one man was killed. Many of the shop windows in Old Town and on nearby Pärnu mnt. may still be broken by the time you read this.
(Photo by Lisa Reijula)The cause of all this trouble? Estonia moved a statue from one place to another. But this wasn’t just any statue, it was the Bronze Soldier monument, which had over the years become a focus of tension between ethnic Russians and Estonians. The former see this Red Army monument, which had been standing on Tõnismägi hill near the National Library since 1947, as a symbol of the sacrifices of Russia during World War II and the defeat of Nazi Germany.
For Estonians, however, it was a symbol of the post-war occupation, communist terror and mass deportations that the country suffered, and they didn’t want it in the middle of the capital. Complicating matters, there were also 12 Soviet soldiers buried at the site. On April 26, when initial work began for moving the graves and the statue, about 1,500 people turned up to protest. After clashes with police, the crowds began a smashing and looting spree, which seemed more connected with drunkeness than politics. In any case, the monument itself was quickly moved, ahead of schedule. Anyone who wants to visit the now famous Bronze Soldier can find it in the Defense Forces Cemetery, on Filtri 13.
You have to ask yourself who built it and why.The history of the Baltic states is one of centuries of occupation (the Swedes, the Danish, the Germans, The Russians, The Germans again, the Russians again..) These 'occupiers' built the major cities, and they also built the monuments to themselves there as well. Considering that the last occupation ended less than a few decades ago, its no surprise that locals are eager to brush off the reminders of it. Its also worth noting that the Soviet occupation/liberation (the event commemorated in this monument), was far more oppressive and enduring than the Nazi one it replaced.I think the protest and violence that accompanied the moving of this monument, says more about the anxiety of a minority Russian youth living in a 'foreign' country experiencing economic decline than anything else. Most of their parents arrived in Estonia on the wave of Soviet Russification, and enjoyed the benefits, opportunities and prestige that accompanied emigrating from their homeland superpower. Russian prestige doesn't mean much today, and these young guys are scrapping for work alongside their Estonian national compatriots. Show me a culture or society where the children's prospects look bleaker than their parents' did, and I'll show you a bunch of young men who feel sore about it. Add alcohol and you've got a news story.What's really interesting, is the relationship between these two groups - - young first generation Russian Estonians living as a minority, and Estonia itself existing as a minority power beside the imposing Russia. They're both fretting on some minority anxiety tip. They should just hug/cry it out, sauna, lumberjack wallow in a bottle together, etc... whatever those half frozen whiteys do to defuse and pass the time.The govt probably could have done a better job of selling this as, "After centuries or war and occupation, we want to make the city a place for fostering peace, and keep the emblems of war with the people who died in them.."
Should the Estonians and Latvians remind their pro-Russian counterparts about what the Soviets did the last time they came to "liberate" them: namely the destruction of the Kopli, Kalamaja and Moigu cemeteries in Estonia and the Lielie Kapi in Riga, Latvia.The Estonian decision is rather mute in comparison.
It was either a huge mistake, or a deliberate provocation, to move this historic war-monument.