Case Study Two: The Baltics

Section Introduction

The Baltic States fit a similar profile to Ukraine in many key dimensions, as the introduction intimated. As seen in Figure 3, most of the land which would become Estonia and Latvia was

annexed by Russia during the reign of Peter the Great, creating a similar timeline of Imperial and later Soviet control of the region compared to Ukraine’s (though clearly seized in a less piecemeal approach than the latter). The Baltic territories, like Ukraine, also underwent a Russification period, though starting later than Ukraine’s and focused more on the countering of undue perceived

influence of ethnic Germans and, after its unification, the rapidly strengthening German nation than a perception of local culture and language as inferior, as in Ukraine’s case (Karjahärm). Probably more important than either of these two in Russia’s eyes, the Baltic States, like areas of Ukraine, are of key strategic value. Their location extremely near the major Russian city of St. Petersburg, their proximity to key Baltic shipping lanes, and their physical separation of the Russian exclave of Kaliningrad from the mainland (which, in another accident of history similar to the loss of Crimea, Russia never intended or foresaw), all make the Baltic States territory prized by both Russia and those who would contain it.

So what does this mean in terms of our variables? As in the previous section, Variables One (Russian interest) and Two (minority exploitability) will be addressed; Variable One, as might be expected given the location of the Baltic states, is equally if not more present than it is in Ukraine, while Variable Two is more complex and varies somewhat even within the region. However, unlike the Ukraine case study, in the case of the Baltics, the third, overriding variable is present, that of an institutional barrier against intervention, namely in the presence of a nuclear deterrence against

aggression provided by NATO (and, theoretically, the EU). Each will be analyzed in turn, and though it is true that the third variable does likely preclude the first two from leading to Russian intervention, it is nonetheless important to analyze these factors; as the conclusion chapter will discuss, the example of the Baltics is ultimately most interesting once variables are manipulated, the lessons learned from it applied to other areas under different circumstances but with certain crucial similar qualities. To aid the logical flow of ideas, this section will first address Variable Two, and then discuss the complex interplay between Variables One and Three present in the region.

. . . . .

Variable Two, Part One: The Identity and Circumstance of Estonia’s Russian Minority

Estonia’s Russian minorities fit the same profile as Ukraine’s in many, perhaps even all, significant dimensions. Like Ukraine, Estonia has a sizeable Russian minority as a percentage of its population (25.2%), concentrated, like Ukraine’s Russian-identifying minority, in urban areas and the eastern section of the country bordering Russia (in Estonia’s case, largely greater Tallinn and the Tartu Region, as shown in Figure 11)(Statistics Estonia). Like Ukraine’s Russian minority, Estonia’s has also sought political representation and power in recent years. Estonia’s Centre party has become in large part a platform for minority issues: 75% of ethnic non-Estonians support the party, and as almost all ethnic non-Estonians are ethnic Russians, the Centre party must thus champion the causes of the sizeable Russian minority (Kangro).

However, beyond the admittedly striking demographic similarities between Estonia’s and Ukraine’s Russian minority populations, there seem to be few similarities between them.

minorities of Ukraine, their relative wealth and satisfaction with the state of the government in their nation leading them to have an arguably significantly lower potential threat to national security, and present a far less exploitable target for Russian leaders interested in increasing their influence in the country. As the aforementioned Dmitry Shlapentokh argues, the relative economic success of Estonia compared to Russia (Estonian GDP being roughly twice Russian GDP over the last 10 years) has led Estonians Russians to view Russia not as a potential economic savior, but rather as a poor place with little opportunity (Shlapentokh)(“Estonia Data")(“Russian Federation Data”). Indeed, Shlapentokh presents anecdotal evidence to the contrary, stating that many Russian visitors to Estonia are attempting to emigrate West for greater economic opportunity.

Furthermore, the concept of the “Estonian Russian” as an equal and legitimized entity in the eyes of the Estonian state and people, as compared with Ukrainian nationalistic fervor, also add to the sense that Estonian Russians present little threat of unrest, much less insurrection. Essentially,

Shlapentokh argues they have become melded into Estonian society to a degree to which they would be highly uninterested in “play[ing] the role of Sudetendeutsche,” to act on behalf of Russia against their wealthier and accommodating home of many decades (Shlapentokh). Lastly, the political qualities of the Estonian Russian minority are significantly different, and far less troublesome, than that of Ukrainian minorities. Though, as in Ukraine, Estonian Russians vote overwhelmingly for a single party, the Centre Party is surely a significantly less threatening entity than Yanukovych’s Party of Regions. Rather than pitting one ethnic group and region against the other as happened in Ukraine, the Centre Party, a center-left party, helps form the current coalition government in Estonia with other parties backed by primarily ethnic Estonians, and indeed the current Prime Minister of Estonia, Jüri Ratas, represents the Centre Party (“Juri Ratas”). These

multiple factors of Estonian Russian identity combine to indicate that, despite the facial similarity of Estonian and Ukrainian Russian minorities, the economic and political circumstances of the two groups could hardly be more different, far overcoming any superficial similarities they do have in terms of how their identities and geopolitics may intersect. `

Figure 11: Prevalence of Russian Ethnicity in Estonia

Source: Maarten van der Molen, Figure 3: Ethnic Russians in Estonia (2014)

Figure 12: Prevalence of Russian as a Native Language in Estonia

Source: “DVoit” (via Wikimedia Commons), Distribution of the Russian language in Estonia (2008)

. . . . .

Variable Two, Part Two: The Identity and Circumstance of Latvia’s Russian Minority

Latvia presents a case similar to Estonia and Ukraine in several of the superficial qualities of the minority groups; again, in Latvia’s case, Russian minorities tend to be clustered near the border with Russia, or in major industrial and urban centers (indeed, the major city of Daugavpils is majority-ethnic-Russian). The overall percentage of Russian minorities sits very near that of Estonia and Ukraine, at 27.0% and 37.2%, respectively (Central Statistical Bureau of Latvia). Furthermore, like the case of Estonia, Latvian Russian minorities have also evidenced increased political consciousness in the past decade, including a 2012 constitutional referendum which

attempted to designate Russian as an official second language of Latvia. However, as compared with Estonia, the case of Latvia also indicates that the identity of the Russian minorities themselves is not dichotomous, but rather exists on a continuum. The evidence from the language referendum

indicates that perhaps, though Russia’s motivations in the region are likely the same as in Estonia’s case, there is greater tension and less integration between Russian- and Latvian-identified residents of Latvia, thus perhaps constituting a middle ground between Estonia and Ukraine on that metric of stability.

Like Estonia, this lower political utility, from Russia’s perspective, can probably be largely attributed to two factors. Firstly, Latvia provides greater local economic opportunity compared with Russia, instead of the lower opportunity found in Eastern Ukraine: though not quite as wealthy as Estonia, Latvia’s per capita GDP is generally higher and less volatile and

sector-dependent than Russia’s, and like Estonia (and unlike Ukraine) has access to EU economic assistance (“Estonia Data”)(“Latvia Data”)(“Russia Data”). More complex is the second factor, the political integration of Russian minorities into the Latvian political system. If Ukraine represents at

the least a tense and adversarial relationship between those minorities and the ethnic majority in their nation (as the instability of 2013-14 and sharp divisions in political partisanship indicates is substantially true), and Estonia represents high levels of integration of Russian minorities into their nation, than Latvia provides a case study into the middle ground. Let us take the example of the Language Referendum of 2012: Russian minority leaders in the nation initiated a referendum proposing making Russian an official language, though they “admitted they had no chance at winning,” with the expectation of heavy support from ethnic Russians, in order to “force Latvia's centre-right government to begin a dialogue with minorities” (“Latvians Reject Russian”). As those organizers predicted, around three-quarters of the votes were nays, evidencing clear divisions between ethnic and linguistic Latvians and the ethnic Russian and Russophone population (who are, of course, largely the same people, given the relatively recent, Soviet origins of these

populations).

One might be tempted, based only on this event, to conclude that Latvia more resembles the politically divided and antagonistic Ukraine than the calm and integrated Estonia in terms of the volatility and partisanship of its Russian-identified populations; the intention behind it, and its results, indicate clear divisions in the country and a willingness of Russian-identified inhabitants to highlight their differences rather than hide them. However, there are several reasons to believe that at the most Latvia constitutes an intermediate level of minority instability and dissatisfaction at the most. Firstly, the referendum was never designed to get any person into power, or indeed ever to win, but rather to call attention to the minority’s own feelings of being left behind by their nation. Though this is in some ways similar to the situation in Ukraine, the Latvian minorities did this peacefully and with a focus on minority rights, rather than protesting control of the country by

those they do not like. When compared with the often heated and sometimes violent opposition to policy aimed at furthering the Russian language in Ukraine (Elder), the Latvian referendum seems to more closely resemble a cry for respect and political concern from a relatively poor and politically limited regional minority (Latvian language skills being required to gain citizenship, even for Soviet-era migrants) than an angry and partisan movement, à la Ukraine, that could be taken advantage of by Russia (“Latvians Reject Russian”). Thus, even if the Latvian Russian minority population may on first glance have certain similarities to that of Ukraine, ultimately the means through which they approach political representation, the reasons for their dissatisfaction, and their nonviolent (and thus non-exploitable) reaction to failure all point to a fundamental difference between the Russian-identified people of the Baltic states and those of Ukraine. Whether politically integrated, as in Estonia, or somewhat apart, as in the case of Latvia, the identities and insecurities of Baltic minorities appear to be simply less exploitable compared with those of Ukrainian

minorities.

Figure 13: Native Russian Language Prevalence in Latvia

Source: “Xil” (via Wikimedia Commons), Use of Russian Language at home in Latvia (2011)

. . . . .

Variables One and Three: Russia’s Motivations in the Baltic and Institutional Limitations

The similarities in historical context and presence of Russian minorities between Estonia and Latvia and their southern counterpart Ukraine, discussed in depth in the introduction, would naturally lead one to expect an ideologically-driven, ethno-nationalist Russia to pursue gaining influence in and power over this region to at least the same degree as it would in Ukraine. Instead, Russian strategy in the Baltics, especially as compared with its recent opportunistic actions in Ukraine, constitutes some of the most compelling proof for a pragmatic approach over the pursuit of ideological goals in Russia’s policy towards its “near abroad”. If we assume fundamental

similarities between these regions from an ethno-nationalist Russian view, and given the clear Russian interest and intervention in Ukraine, the question then becomes: why hasn’t Russia

infringed on the sovereignty of these nations as it has in Ukraine? What distinguishes the two cases, and if it is purely practical consideration, has Russia evidenced any attempts to work around those limitations to achieve ethno-nationalist goals? Ultimately, the conclusion seems clear: while Russian interest is present in both regions, and if given its way it would exert its control over both regions, its actual, strategic approach leads it to ignore problematic areas like the Baltics and focus on weak areas like Ukraine (or Georgia), rather than pursuing a more diversified and human-centric, genuinely ethno-nationalist approach.

It goes almost without saying that the main difference between Ukraine and the Baltics, in terms of Russia’s willingness and ability to intervene, are the strong international institutions which protect the Baltics while leaving Ukraine exposed. As discussed in the Ukrainian Case institutions section, NATO has, by virtue of its Article Five, effectively shielded Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania from any Russian aggression since they joined in 2004; combined with the mutual defense clause in

the EU charter, a Ukraine-like crisis is rendered nearly impossible in the Baltics without a

significant change in political and military circumstance. Russia was able to take advantage of the Ukraine crisis because of a lack of firm outside defensive commitments; in the Baltics, NATO and the EU certainly provides a strong and credible commitment, thus precluding any significant

opportunistic intervention by Russia. These redundant defensive institutions provide a clear barrier to Russian incursion, as it could risk war with several military powers which lead the world in both conventional and nuclear military capabilities.

The fact that the Baltics enjoy significant military protections Ukraine has no access to can plausibly explain in its own right the obvious differences in the Russian approach between the two regions. Even if Russia genuinely did target the Crimea and Donbas regions due to their

Russian-identified populations, rather than strategic or geopolitical value, they could be expected to not engage in similar behavior, however much they might wish they could, out of purely practical considerations, in this case the presence of strong defensive alliances. However, Russia in this case would still probably attempt to gain control over them somehow. Both an ethno-nationalist and a purely strategic Russia would pursue conventional economic and diplomatic influence channels in an attempt to secure their power in the region (though for different reasons). However, an

ethno-nationalist Russia would likely pursue more aggressive means of influence. As discussed earlier, even an ethno-nationalist Russia would be expected to act at least somewhat rationally; the difference lies in the existence of measures which do not increase Russian power, but rather only extend aid and benefit to Russian minorities abroad. If those exist, they are significant evidence for an ethno-nationalist approach; if they do not, or if they are present for more selfish reasons than to aid their Slavic brethren, this indicates a purely geopolitical approach with an ethno-nationalist

veneer. Measures could including utilizing the Donbassian tactics of supporting genuine protests and insurrections (though obviously Russia’s tactics would have to be moderated compared with its strategy in Ukraine), but also, in the event that land cannot be “retaken” for Russia along with local Russians, would likely involve attempting to entice ethnic Russians in particular back to Russia. After all, a truly ethno-nationalist state would ultimately view bringing its own back to it as a victory of at least as great a magnitude as taking territory, and indeed Russia has clearly used the presence of ethnic Russians as justification for its seizure of Ukraine. Thus, the institutional barrier posed by NATO and others in the case of the Baltics does not so much present a limitation to our analysis of Russian strategy than an opportunity to determine Russia’s true motivations in the region, uncomplicated by the practical considerations that actually proved in some ways obfuscatory in Ukraine. If there is evidence to be had of an ethno-nationalist approach anywhere, it would likely be here: by virtue of it being limited in its activity, we would likely see an ethno-nationalist Russia engaging in the aforementioned strategies, and a strategic Russia effectively ignoring the are for all intents and purposes and turn to more exploitable regions where its active engagement would have a higher marginal benefit.

Ultimately, the evidence points to a truly strategic approach; the Baltics, despite the occasional strongly worded statement out of the Kremlin, has in effect been ignored in favor of gaining regional clout through paths of far lesser resistance, namely its activities in Georgia and Ukraine. Despite the not insignificant level of discontent in Latvia, no effort was made to create there a Donbassian pseudo-rebellion; though surely the Russians of Tartu are almost as exploitable as those of Crimea, ultimately the area is too heavily protected to be a practical choice to target. Moreover, even much lower-risk ethno-nationalist options have not been pursued in any

meaningful way. In 2006, Vladimir Putin announced a repatriation plan targeting ethnic Russians living abroad, an apparently ethno-nationalist move, until one considers that Russia was even by that time suffering from a staggering demographic crisis draining the country of over 700,000 people per year. Furthermore, little support was provided for returnees: “most regional

administrators [made] it clear that they will accept only those applicants whose professional skills match the needs of their respective job markets” and some authorities warned that “newcomers will be offered only jobs that local residents do not want” (Peuch). It is perhaps thus unsurprising that this program was unsuccessful: out of the stated goal of 100,000 returnees, only 143 families returned in 2006 (Peuch). The utter failure of this program poses the question: if Russia genuinely desired its countrymen to return from abroad for ideological reasons, why would their effort so closely resemble careless and self-serving attempt at alleviating their own unrelated issues? Russian migrants today seem to return to Russia mostly because of Russia’s own bad behavior, and the ire that it brings upon expatriates in other nations, not due to active attempts by the Russian

government to attract them “home” (“Around 150,000 Russian Citizens Repatriated”). Indeed, though 150,000 ethnic Russians returned to Russia in 2016, most came back due to perceived economic or political persecution, while in a two year period before 2015, only 37 ethnic Russians left the relatively tolerant and prosperous Estonia for Russia (Goble)(“Around”). In short, if Russia genuinely cared about Russian-identified people in border states beyond their use as a justification

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