BONJOUR L'ESTONIE

U.S. House of Representatives passes “Black Ribbon Day” legislation recognizing Victims of Soviet Communist and Nazi regimes

U.S. House of Representatives passes “Black Ribbon Day” legislation
recognizing Victims of Soviet Communist and Nazi regimes

Washington, DC – Legislation designating August 23 as a “Black Ribbon Day” commemorating the victims of both Soviet communist and Nazi terror passed yesterday in the U.S. House of Representatives. It is a culmination of an ongoing two-year effort by the Joint Baltic American National Committee, Inc. (JBANC) seeking passage of this legislation.

Congressman John Shimkus of Illinois, the co-chairman of the House Baltic Caucus, sponsored the legislation and effectively shepherded its passage in the House. The legislation, part of a National Defense Authorization Act (H.R. 4435), will now be taken up by the Senate. A conference committee of both houses will work out differences.

On the eve of the bill’s passage, JBANC contacted all House member offices individually to muster needed additional support for the resolution’s passage. JBANC stressed the importance of passing the legislation this year since it marks the 75^th year since the signing of the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact in 1939. The pact divided Europe between Nazi Germany and the USSR and ushered in WWII. Ultimately this led to the 50 year Soviet occupation of the Baltic countries. This year will also mark 25 years since the “Baltic Way” was organized in 1989. This human chain united some two million Estonians, Latvians, and Lithuanians in an iconic demonstration of their resolve for freedom and independence.

JBANC’s appeal to Congress also highlighted the ongoing violations of Ukraine’s sovereignty and Putin’s concurrent aggression, a haunting reminder of Hitler’s and Stalin’s maneuvers leading to the outbreak of the Second World War.

The story behind the translation of Tammsaare’s Truth and Justice

Lisa Trei, the daughter of the late Alan Trei – one of the translators of Estonian writer Anton Hansen Tammsaare’s book Truth and Justice into English – explains how the translation came to life.

Since regaining independence in 1991, Estonia has attracted international acclaim in many spheres, but notably in high-tech with the invention of Skype, the development of e-government and the decision to teach computer programming to school children. In the recent weeks it has been back in the news, but this time because of Russia’s illegal annexation of Ukraine’s Crimean peninsula. Estonia and its Baltic neighbours worry that Russia’s expansionist actions could mean they are next. After all, in 1940, the Soviet Union swallowed up Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania and the nations ceased to exist for five decades. Balts know that in 2005, Russia’s President Vladimir Putin described the breakup of the Soviet Union as the “greatest geopolitical disaster of the last century”.

This contemporary backdrop makes the translation of Anton Hansen Tammsaare’s “Tõde ja õigus” or Truth and Justice timely and relevant for international observers. Expanding access to a nation’s literary canon, particularly one that is not well known in the West, is critical for understanding that country’s values and worldview. Written during the rise of dictators – Adolf Hitler, Joseph Stalin, Benito Mussolini – the social epic captures the evolution of Estonia from a Tsarist province to an independent state. Based partly on the author’s own life, Truth and Justice explores the contrast between the urban middle class and the hard-working peasantry. Tammsaare draws an ironic portrait of urban intellectuals who have absorbed the middle and upper class mores and abandoned their moral principles.

The tiny Estonian town that could spell the end of NATO

The Russian invasion and rapid absorption of the Crimean peninsula might seem like the spark ready to ignite a new Cold War. In fact, given the feeble Western response so far, the more likely outcome is not the division of Europe once more between NATO’s Western alliance and a neo-Soviet Russia, but rather the fracturing and ultimate demise of NATO and the Western alliance itself.

Of course, no one expects the West to use military force to protect Ukrainian territory, despite the 1994 Budapest Memorandum in which Russia, the US and the UK guaranteed Ukrainian sovereignty in exchange for its relinquishing the nuclear weapons that remained on its territory after the collapse of the Soviet Union. Yet even the Russians now seem surprised, indeed somewhat amused, by how disunited and craven the Western response has been. Far from being isolated, Russia’s president Vladimir Putin’s very decisiveness has made him the most respected statesman in the world. So what comes next?

Having demonstrated to the Ukrainians with his Crimean excursion the emptiness of Western guarantees in the Budapest memorandum, Putin can now credibly demand that Ukraine either accept its status as a Russian vassal or cede more territory – starting with the city of Donetsk in eastern Ukraine, which has a slight Russian majority (he can also exert pressure from Moldova’s breakaway region, Transnistria, on Ukraine’s western flank, which has operated as a Russian colony for the past 20 years).

"The Singing Revolution" : Documentary tells the story of Estonia’s peaceful quest for freedom

When James and Maureen Tusty went to the Eastern European country of Estonia in 1999, they hadn’t heard of its singing revolution. Nor had many of their friends. In fact, it seemed the story hadn’t left the Baltic region at all.

But it was a story that blew the couple away, thanks to a combination of its immensity and Estonians’ quietness about it. From the mid-1980s to the early 1990s, its residents gathered to sing protest songs in massive, nonviolent demonstrations, imploring the Soviet Union to grant the country independence.

“We just felt really compelled to make the film,” James Tusty said. “If not now, when, and if not us, who?”

The Tustys were in Estonia to teach filmmaking; they decided to make a film about the events. The Singing Revolution was released in the United States at the end of 2007, and the Tustys will be on hand for a Saturday screening at the Billings Farm & Museum in Woodstock at 3 p.m. It’s part of the 4th Annual Woodstock Vermont Film Series, which will run through April.

James Tusty gave three reasons for the obscurity of the story:

∎  Estonia is a small country. Official statistics put its 2012 population at 1.3 million, approximately the same as New Hampshire.

∎  Estonians despise bragging “more than any culture I have ever dealt with,” Tusty said.

∎  The revolution wasn’t violent.

After sinking $20-million into Soviet car ferry, Newfoundland sells ‘rust bucket’ for just $76,000

After spending eight years and $20-million in a quixotic bid to fix up a bargain-basement Soviet car ferry once derided as the “rust bucket from Estonia,” the government of Newfoundland and Labrador have given up, selling it for scrap for just $76,000.

The 43-metre, 24-car M/V Nonia, which began its commission in the final days of European communism before becoming a persistent drain on Newfoundland’s ferry maintenance budget, is currently in St. Mary’s Bay being stripped down for its ignoble retirement as a floating work platform.

“We realized that continuing to invest money into the Nonia was throwing good money after bad,” Nick McGrath, the province’s Minister of Transportation and Works told a news conference Monday.

Built in 1986 in what is now the capital of Latvia, the Nonia sailed under the name Ahelaid until 1999, when the Liberal government of Newfoundland and Labrador bought it from a newly independent Estonia for $1.2-million.

At the grave of the unknown Estonian

On Remembrance Day, Cēsis resident Mike Collier visited one young man who helped to make Estonia and Latvia what they are today. 

Even by Baltic standards, Cēsis has more than its share of military graveyards. The northern Latvian town of around 15,000 (Võnnu in Estonian, Wenden in German) has always been a place of strategic importance as the graves of local Latvians, Russians of the White and Red varieties, Baltic Germans, Imperial Germans and Third Reich Germans all testify. There is even a small 'Turkish' graveyard, final resting place of captured Central Asian prisoners from the Russo-Turkish war.

Each of these sites has its own pathos - the Turks stranded in the chilly north, the overgrown tangle of the German WWI cemetery, the grim script recording the ages of the town's schoolboy defenders during the struggle for independence. But the one I tend to visit on November 11 in lieu of all the others is more pathetic still - a single grave on a little overgrown hillock just outside the city limits that is the final resting place of an unknown Estonian fighter.

What is known is that he died here and he died in 1919. The date surprises many of us from the West who were told the First World War, the Great War, the War To End All Wars, took place from 1914 to 1918.

But here in the Baltic states, while the Treaty of Versailles settled the war on paper and led to the formal recognition of the three new Baltic republics, there was still an awful lot of dirty, disappointing, deadly fighting to be done. As well as the Soviets who had replaced the tsar but remained just as hostile to the freedom of the Baltic states, the Landeswehr - displaced German troops who felt they had the right to be masters in their former Baltic dominions - still held control over large swathes of territory.

Sharing their love of Estonian music

WATERLOO — Symphony conductor Norman Reintamm was in Estonia in 1991, the night Soviet tanks rolled into the city of Tallinn. His only thought was, "are we going to be a free Estonia or are we going to be shipped to Siberia?"

Reintamm, now a member of the Canadian-based Trio Estonia which performs in Waterloo Friday, lived through the tumultuous time in Estonia under Soviet rule. He reflects on it as an enriching part of his life both musically and socially. And luckily, when he awoke the next morning, the tanks were gone and Estonia was finally independent.

Reintamm's parents came to Canada from Estonia after the Second World War, raising their family in Hamilton, where he began his musical career as a chorister at Christ's Church Cathedral. He completed an undergraduate degree in music from the University of Toronto and McMaster University. He then went on to postgraduate work at the Royal College of Music in London, England, followed by awards and apprenticeships with the Vancouver Chamber Choir and the Hamilton Philharmonic Orchestra.

It would have been a giant leap for the young Canadian to launch his professional career in Estonia where he would be faced with great deprivation and even danger. Reintamm's father had suggested he audition for the Estonian National Opera, thinking his son would have more opportunities to gain experience. But it would also open the young man's eye to the privilege life he had grown up in.

The little Russia that wanted to break away

Twenty years ago, the district of Ida-Viru voted in favour of autonomy but was halted by the Estonian state. Today, the 146,000 inhabitants of the region, most of them Russian, have given up asserting their claim. Nonetheless, they live apart from the rest of the country.

“What referendum? No, I wasn't aware of one,” admits a surprised Julia [Russian], 42 years old and a resident of Narva, on the 20th anniversary of the referendum on the autonomy of her region, Ida-Viru [the most eastern district]. At the time, however, the yes vote had prevailed [54 per cent of the vote, with a 52 per cent turnout], worrying the none-too-strong forces defending the young Estonian Republic.

The consultation had been held in 1993, on July 16 and 17 in three towns in the region: Narva, Kohtla-Järve and Sillamäe. Despite the results, the State Court ruled that the referendum in the three cities contravened the Constitution and the movement for autonomy was quickly deflated. No Transnistria of Estonia was therefore born [a reference to the Russian-speaking region that broke away from Moldova but has not been recognised by any country].

At the time, the situation was not without problems. Narva was a city where the blue, black and white flag of Estonia fluttered close by the statue of Lenin. “[The most powerful experience that I lived through: meeting three real Cossacks in the flesh] coming out of the cabinet of Vladimir Tšuikin, president of the Municipal Assembly,” remembers Rein Annik, aged 78, then director of the city’s electrical grid. The burly and mustachioed men wearing sword belts frightened him. That day, Tšuikin asked him whether it would be possible to install a compound and electricity at the checkpoint between what would become the autonomous region and the Republic of Estonia.

European parliament perpetuates Baltic way

Almost 25 years after the Baltic Way, also called the “Singing revolution”, took place in Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania, it is commemorated at the European Parliament in Brussels. Let's take a look.

Full Story:
The Baltic Way was the biggest protest in the Soviet Union.

Two-million people created a 600-kilometer-long human chain spanning three Baltic countries, Estonia, Lithuania and Latvia, on August 23, 1989. They joined hands and sang together to demand independence from the Soviets. It marked the 50th anniversary of the Molotov-Ribbentrop pact, which divided Europe and led to the occupation of the Baltic States.

500 deportation stories collected on June 14th

Close to 500 personal stories of the mass deportations carried out in Estonia by the Soviet regime in the 1940s were collected and mapped on Friday as part of the Kogu Me Lugu initiative.

At an event held on Tallinn's Freedom Square for the Day of Mourning and Commemoration, which marks the anniversary of the June 14, 1941 deportation of thousands of Baltic residents to Siberia, organizers recorded around 250 stories, thoughts and memories of those affected. Some participants brought in written accounts, others spoke on camera. The other half of the stories were submitted online or by SMS.

The locations of the stories were recorded on both an electronic map and a wooden map, with the latter taken to the Museum of Occupations where it will become an exhibition. The videos will be stored in the Estonian Film Archive.

“Despite the rainy weather, there were plenty of people filling out the map and to our pleasure, many young people and those who were not native speakers of Estonian took an interest in the undertaking. All communities living under totalitarian regimes and [who came into contact with] deportation suffered on a large or a small scale. People acknowledge this more than we had expected,” organizer Sandra Vokk said in a statement.

Estonian believers shop a spiritual "marketplace"

In Tallinn's medieval Old Town, the primary tourist attraction of the Baltic seaport capital, Estonia’s Christian heritage is ubiquitous. Gothic church spires and crosses are the architectural leitmotif.

Despite prominent symbols of faith in public spaces, Estonia is noted as one of the world’s most agnostic nations. A history of foreign occupation and cultural imposition has left an ambiguous relationship between Estonians and the role of religion in their lives.

But Estonia is not so much a nation of atheists – France led the way in that category in the latest poll of European religious sentiment, the Eurobarometer survey of 2010 at 40 percent – as an amalgam of the utterly indifferent and the spiritually seeking.

“The image of Estonia as the most atheistic country seems to exist only in the Estonian popular imagination,” explains Atko Remmel, a scholar of Estonian church history at the University of Tartu, the country’s leading research institution.

Indeed, many Estonians have faith of a sort. Half of respondents to the Eurobarometer poll expressed belief in “some sort of spirit or life force." Where Estonians are irreligious is in lack of church attendance and specific religious affiliation, in part due to the country's historical legacy.

The Hara miltary base, once a Soviet camp on the Baltic Sea

An hour or so outside of Tallinn Estonia, along the coast of the Baltic Sea, lies an abandoned Soviet submarine base next to the village of Hara. The Hara Military Base was built by the Soviets between 1956 and 1958 and was used while they occupied Estonia until they fled in 1991 around the time of their independence. At that time, the only thing they left behind was a barren concrete structure, which has since been defaced by graffiti and strained from years of Baltic wind, rain and snow. Rich but worn-out textures atop a cement facade above and below the water's edge meets weathered and rusted structures, ladders, chains and latches. Among the debris are weakened rocks and wooden slats, which have fallen below an area that once appeared to be a walkway separating sections of the base.

Apparently the area we scoured was only 10 percent of what originated there during Soviet times. There was a measuring system in the sea, and the entire bay was covered with sensors, wires, locators and locators behind wires. The place has an isolated feeling to it, despite how many people you bring with you on your long walk along the concrete protrusion that extends into the ocean. Barren, forgotten, isolated, solitude and torment are the words that swept through me as I made my way into the brittle, all-encompassing wind on that cold April day.

I've always been intrigued by graffiti and have taken photos of plastered defaced walls, buildings, ceilings and floors in nearly every continent. I couldn't put my camera down as graffiti met the memory of Soviet occupation during less stellar times for Estonians who lived in the area.

Estonia – like a pawn in the game between two great powers

Similar to the Soviet internal corps, the Waffen-SS were the army of the party in Germany between 1941 and 1942, forming the vanguard of troops during the war. What the blogger fails to take into account is the relationship that existed between the nations at that time and the difficulties of fleshing out the thinning ranks of the Wehrmacht after Germany’s peak in 1942. In order to understand the reasons behind the annual meetings of veterans in the Blue Mountains, it is necessary to look into the past.

Between 1930 and 1945, Europe was as a game of chess between the two great dictators Stalin and Hitler in which Stalin – formerly the better strategist – won.

Let us not forget that the Kremlin initially supported National-Socialist Germany. It was under orders from Moscow that the combined efforts of Fascist and Communist organisations led to the fall of the Weimar Republic, to the signing of the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact and, until 1941, to the supply of extensive material support for Hitler’s military projects. After these efforts, a weakened Eastern Europe came under Stalin’s control. Then, with the terrible losses suffered by the Russian people, the German military machine – as if by the wave of a magic wand – turned against Stalin and the Communist leadership finally took notice.

The Republic of Estonia in 1931 was a most usual European country, especially proud of its hard-won independence and eager to keep away from the impending European military threat. Confrontation and ambition were alien concepts to its leadership, which, in the end, came to be the reason for the period of great loss suffered by this small country during the war.

Well-preserved skeleton recovered from medieval tomb

A yet-to-be identified, intact, male skeleton has been excavated from a brick tomb at the Tartu Cathedral, despite archaeologists' initial worry that the tomb would be empty.

The tomb, dating back at least to the mid-16th century, was found in March during renovation work. Digging further to a depth of 1.8 meters, archaeologists found a skeleton buried in a decomposed wooden box, a statement from the University of Tartu said.

“We found no personal belongings with the deceased, but [we found] plenty of coffin nails and some rotten wood. We're hoping that further analysis will show us the type of wood the coffin was made of, and with that, the period of the interment,” said the university's archaeologist Martin Malve.

“We can currently say that the skeleton originates from the 13-15th century, when tombs were actively used for burials. The skeleton belonged to a man aged 40-50. Initial examination shows that the teeth were relatively unworn; there were a few teeth missing from when he was alive, as well as plaque and dental cavities. The right elbow [...] had a healed bone fracture that could have resulted from trying to stop a fall,” Malve said.

The skeleton is undergoing further analysis at the University of Tartu's human bones repository. The university's history museum, which is located at the site of the ruins of the Tartu Cathedral, hopes to put the find up on display by the end of summer.

The university's experts have previously said that the find is one of the rarest in Estonia.

Ancient residences surface in Tartu

Archaeologists have unearthed four ancient dwellings since they started digging last year on the slope of Toomemägi, the hill that dominates central Tartu.

The diele-dornse style buildings are connected to walls scaling up to three meters in height which trace back several hundred years further than most of Tartu's 19th-century Old Town, Eesti Päevaleht reported.

"For a historian this is like winning the lottery," said archaeologist Aivar Kriiska.

"Perhaps in Tallinn's Old Town such a find wouldn't be anything new, but in Tartu the only things dating to this era are two churches."

The digging was commissioned by the Heino Eller Music School, which is looking to expand its campus.

The KGB bugged the hell out of Estonia hotel guests

Old Town Tallinn in Estonia feels like it should be on top of a wedding cake, the old city walls, church steeples, narrow cobblestone streets, and pastel colors putting forth a true Medievil vibe. Aside from aesthetics, the main draw of the city is the deep and relatively recent history – Estonia gained its independence from Soviet power less than 25 years ago, in 1991.

Men and women in their late 20s and early 30s can share stories of the communistic culture they experienced as children, including long lines at food markets and loss of property, all of which took place under the careful watch of the KGB. Estonians were forced to vacate or share their households with Soviets depending upon their income.

There are many hotels located within the Old Town walls to choose from, but if you want a true taste of KGB history during your visit, consider the Sokos Hotel Viru just outside Old Town. Opened in 1972, it's the largest hotel in Estonia with over 500 rooms, and during Soviet occupation, the KGB had an office on the top floor (the 23rd floor, which did not have a button on the elevator).

A medieval monastery in Estonia

Estonia had an interesting time in the Middle Ages. Along with the other Baltic States of Lithuania and Latvia, they were the last bastion of paganism in a continent that had become entirely Christian.

Various Christian kingdoms decided this was a good excuse for conquest and launched the Northern Crusades. From 1208 to 1224, the Germans, Danes, and Swedes attacked Estonia and eventually conquered it.

Once the knights had finished their work, it was time for the clergy to step in. Prominent among these were the Cistercians, one of the most powerful monastic orders of their time. In 1220 they were rewarded with lands at Padise near the important port of Tallinn. They built a small stone chapel there and began expanding it into a large fortified monastery in 1317.

Tallinn's medieval old town

Tallinn is a medieval wonderland. The capital of Estonia isn't on a lot of people's bucket list but anyone at all interested in history, architecture or art will love this place.

The central attraction is Old Town, a medieval walled city filled with old buildings and fortifications. The sheltered bay and the easily defended Toompea Hill made it a natural place to settle. Sometime about 1050 A.D. a fortress was built atop the hill, the first of many. In 1219 the Danes showed up as part of the Northern Crusade to subjugate the Baltics and convert the local pagans to Christianity whether they wanted to or not.

The Danes improved the fortifications and expanded the town, which became part of the Hanseatic League, a trading organization of a hundred northern cities. The Danes sold Tallinn to the Livonan Order, a branch of the Teutonic Knights, in 1346. The Swedes came next in 1561. Tallinn weathered plague and the Great Northern War and became part of Russia in 1710. In 1918, Estonia declared independence from Russia and fought a bitter war against Bolshevik Russia. Independence didn't last long, however, and the fledgling nation fell first to the Nazis and then the Soviets during World War II.

Hanseatic Days bring rare medieval toys to town

The Tartu Toy Museum is highlighting games from the Hanseatic period in the run-up to the city's annual three-day festival commemorating medieval trading.

A special exhibit of medieval games and toys opened at the museum yesterday and will run just five days.

The museum's hands-on play room will host weaving and ribbon plaiting activities. In the gallery, children and adults can roll dice and learn the rules of old board games, ERR radio reported.

After the festival opens tomorrow, the area in front of the museum on Lutsu tänav will become "Kids' City" while toy construction workshops take place in the gallery.

The nearby Teatri Kodu theatrical puppet museum will show off a 700-year-old home, a rare hypocaust system from the 14th century and various archeological finds.

The July 20-22 Hanseatic Days festival will feature different thematic areas, or "cities," new ones this year being Science City on Toome Hill and Art City on the banks of the Emajõgi.

The Hanseatic fair with artisans and artists will begin on Saturday morning.

The Tartu Triathlon on July 21-22 is also taking place in conjunction with the festival this year.

Kristopher Rikken

Hiiumaa

Archaeological evidence оf the fіrst human settlement іn Hiiumaa dates tо аs early аs the 4th century BC. The fіrst documented record оf the island оf Dageida wаs made by contemporary chroniclers іn 1228, аt the tіme when Hiiumaa, along wіth the rest оf Estonia, hаd been conquered by Germanic crusaders.

Іn 1254, Hiiumaa wаs divided between the Bishopric оf Ösel-Wiek аnd the Livonian branch оf the Teutonic Order, whо were аlsо partly acting оn behalf оf the Hanseatic League.

The island wаs part оf Swedish Estonia frоm 1563–1720, аfter whіch іt passed tо the Russian Empire аs part оf the Governorate оf Estonia, although Dagö's Swedish population kept mоst оf theіr privileges. Mоst оf the island's previously numerous Swedish-speaking population emigrated оr were "Estonianised" during the period оf Imperial Russian rule, although а small minority remains tо thіs day. Estonian Swedes аre аlsо known аs "aibofolke" оr "rannarootslased" (meaning coastal Swedes іn Estonian).

Hiiumaa wаs occupied during World War I by the Imperial German Army, іn Operation Albion. Аfter the war, іt became а part оf independent Estonia. Іt wаs annexed by the Soviet Union іn 1940, by Nazi Germany іn 1941, аnd by the Soviets again іn 1944. Іt wаs then а part оf the Estonian Soviet Socialist Republic until the Soviet Union's collapse іn 1991. During the Soviet era Hiiumaa wаs declared а restricted zone, closed tо foreigners аnd tо mоst mainland Estonians. Since 1991, the island has been а part оf independent Estonia.