Tag: Tallinn Trip

One of the reasons that the statues being torn down after Estonian independence being placed at this museum was to protect them from being sold to scrap metal dealers during the almost wild west period of the early 1990s, which was unfortunately the case with the head of Yevgeny Alexandrovich Nikonov (1920-1941). He was a Russian sailor who was born into a Russian peasant family in Vasilyevka village, now in Samara Oblast, Russia. He joined the Soviet Baltic Fleet during World War II, serving as a torpedo electrician on the destroyer Minsk.

During the Battle of Tallinn in August 1941, where the Baltic Fleet was desperately trying to hold its main base, he found himself on a reconnaissance mission near the town of Keila. He was severely wounded and captured by the Germans, and it was claimed by the Soviets that Nikonov bravely refused to divulge any information that could harm his comrades or the defence of Tallinn. The official Soviet account of his death claims that his captors, enraged by his defiance, brutally doused him with gasoline and burned him alive. In reality, there’s no real evidence of this actually happening and there’s some suggestion that he never actually even died. The Germans were hardly known for their careful treatment of prisoners, but it’s difficult to establish what happened here.

He was posthumously awarded the title Hero of the Soviet Union, the highest military honour in the USSR, for his bravery during the defence of Estonia in 1941. The statue, designed by Erika Haggi was erected at Kadroig on 9 May 1960 with a memorial text which read:

“A brave soldier, loyal to his Soviet homeland and the duties of a military man. Refused to give out military secrets to the enemy while defending Tallinn. Burned alive by fascists”.

The statue was pulled down following Estonian independence and metal thieves stole his head with feels a bit sub-optimal. The museum obtained the headless status in 2007 and it has been on display here although it’s fair to say that’s he has hardly been able to keep his eyes on things going on. His remains haven’t been left to rest in peace as he was buried in Harku in northern Estonia, but then the Soviets dug him up and buried his remains at Maarjamäe. In 1992, it was decided to remove him to Vasilyevka in Russia, but they couldn’t find his remains and so they just took some soil from near to where he was buried. There’s a rumour that Estonian nationalists stole his remains, but that feels a little fanciful to me and perhaps a Soviet myth. All told, he was likely a very brave young soldier doing what he thought was right and it’s a shame the statue isn’t complete as it looks quite a well designed one.

I’ve written about one statue to Viktor Kingissepp (1888-1922), but this was a man that the Soviets were very proud of and so there were numerous of the things dotted around. This statue was located in what is now Kuressaare, but between 1952 and 1988 it was named Kingissepa, something of a tribute (well, until they changed it again). It was a very late monument having been installed here in 1988 to mark the centenary of his birth, designed by Matti Varik. It lasted just a year before it was relocated further out of the town centre and it was then removed entirely, coming to this museum in 2007 after years in a storage area. I haven’t heard of him, but apparently he looks like the Estonian Mikk Mikiver, so the statue became a figure of fun. I’m not sure that was entirely what was intended when they were trying to mark 100 years since his birth….

The next in my series of posts about the Soviet Statue Graveyard, this one is in honour of Viktor Kingissepp (1888-1922). This rather pivotal figure was born on the island of Saaremaa and he embarked on a path of socialist activism during his law studies at the University of Tartu. He joined the Bolsheviks and became a prominent leader of the Estonian Communist Party although then Estonia became independent and banned these communists who risked undermining the new nation. He was arrested by the authorities on 3 May 1922 after taking part in a rally and he was executed that night without a trial. After the Second World War, the Soviets named towns after him and plenty of roads were called Viktor Kingissepa tänav in his honour (over thirty of them across Estonia, which feels a little excessive).

This bronze statue was designed by Enn Roos installed by Alar Kotli in 1951 after years of debate about where it should go. It was given a prominent position at Harjumägi in Tallinn and they wanted the life-size statue to make him look like an orator. His legacy is a complex one, but the statue was pulled down in 1991 and now lives here rent free. As for all those roads named after him, they all seemed to have been changed to more appropriate Estonian names.

Similar to my previous post, this rather Soviet looking one is just about Mihkel Aitsam (1876-1917). Designed by Endel Taniloo, it was erected outside the Mihkel Aitsam Vocational School (now the Vana-Vigala School of Technology) on 25 October 1976 to mark the centenary of his birth.

This is what it looked like in its original location. When Soviet occupation of Estonia ended, the statue was shoved into some bushes and it was recovered by sculptor Tauno Kangro who donated it to the Soviet Statue Graveyard in 2008. The ghosts from a bygone era are at least being able to tell their stories, or at least, whisper them quietly. It must be an odd thing for any family members, to see a relative being treated as a hero in a country and then for that to switch to anger and seeing his statue chucked in a bush.

There will now be a heap of posts about the Soviet Statue Graveyard to excite my two loyal blog readers, a fascinating site (the Soviet Statue Graveyard, not this blog) where old statues go to die when they’re no longer appropriate for their location. This one commemorates Mihkel Aitsam, Jüri Kalmus and Rudolf Imberg, who were Red Guards who were killed by White Guards on 11 December 1917 during the Estonian War of Independence. They were part of a group of Red Guards who were attempting to take over the Püssi manor in Ida-Viru County. The manor was owned by the Stackelberg family, who were Baltic German nobles and the Red Guards were met with resistance from the White Guards, and a shootout ensued. Aitsam, Kalmus and Imberg were killed in the fighting.

The monument was sculpted by Albert Eskel and unveiled in Kadriorg Park on 13 December 1961. It was pushed over following Estonia’s independence from the Soviet Union. It was seemingly forgotten about for twenty years before it was brought to this statue graveyard in 2008. This one is a little more complex than some over statues at the site, because some left-wing Estonians still believe that these three were fighting for social justice again oppression. However, others associate them with the Red Guards who fought against Estonia in the War of Independence following the end of the First World War. Either way, their story lives on here at least.

I’ve already mentioned the Soviet War Memorial at this site and this memorial is a quite marvellous juxtaposition to it. It was opened in 2018 and it is a memorial to the 22,000 people murdered by the Soviets, a reminder of the oppression that the people of Estonia faced.

This is a monument which is making a proper statement, it’s a clever and powerful design.

The crimes against humanity will never be forgotten.

The names seem endless.

I was making my way down the tunnel thinking how fortunate we were to see this monument, it had been somewhat by chance and we hadn’t headed this way deliberately.

And then Susanna and Bev bumped into this lady, who lost her father and brother-in-law to the Soviets. Emotional and bringing home the reality of Soviet rule.

The memorial also has a web-site at https://www.memoriaal.ee/en/memorial/.

This is the Soviet War Memorial at the Maarjamäe Memorial Complex in Tallinn. It’s a complex site which was erected in the 1960s to commemorate Soviet sailors and soldiers who died during the Second World War, but it has been somewhat uprooted by the construction of the Memorial to the Victims of Communism next to it. This Soviet memorial is now falling apart and has been vandalised, whilst the memorial to the victims of communism is in immaculate condition, but more of that soon in another post. The memorial was designed by Allan Murdmaa and Matti Varik, originally on a theme of liberation.

Some of the graffiti on the monument.

I can’t make this out, but I asked Google AI and it says it reads “war on vandal”. That may or may not be what it actually says….

Attempts have been made to remove older graffiti.

It’s in a poor state and no real efforts are being made here to keep it well maintained.

Crumbling.

Someone has pulled down the metal fencing which is there to keep people off. This obelisk once symbolised victory and remembrance, but it’s now slowly falling into disrepair. There was once an eternal flame, but that has long since been extinguished.

I think I’ve written enough posts about exhibits at the Estonian History Museum, or for now at least. But, this is I think a nice way to end this little series, it’s a frisbee with “Vidiit, vidiit, Euroopa Liit” which means ‘Finally, Finally, European Union’. Estonia joined the European Union on 1 May 2004 and more than just a toy, this frisbee embodies the joy and excitement of a nation which had embraced a new future, a future filled with possibilities and a sense of belonging within the European community. For the many, not the few and all that because at the moment the latest survey 20 years on from joining is that nearly 85% of the country support Estonian membership of the institution.

I like exhibits which have an aviation theme, especially if there’s a slight air of randomness about them. These are from an Estonian Air aircraft, an airline which operated between 1991 and 2015. After reclaiming Estonian autonomy from its Soviet oppressors, this was a time of transition and hope for the country and part of the rebuilding of the national infra-structure. The airline went out of business due to funding issues, with Nordica replacing them, although they now just offer wet-leases of aircraft rather than scheduled services. It sadly means that Estonia doesn’t really have a national airline, but maybe there’s hope for the future. I asked Google AI to suggest a name for such an airline and it came up with:

“Metsalind: Meaning ‘forest bird’ in Estonian, this name evokes the country’s natural beauty and connection to nature.”

I rather like that.

In the middle of a display at the Estonian History Museum is this seemingly unremarkable object which sits bathed in a slightly dramatic yellow glow. It’s a briefcase. A rather sleek, black briefcase, with gleaming gold clasps. But this is no ordinary briefcase. This is the briefcase of Siim Kallas, former Estonian Finance Minister and Prime Minister. Its importance is that it represents Estonia’s journey from a newly independent nation finding its feet in the world to a confident member of the European Union, shedding its Soviet past.

Siim Kallas, a man who clearly appreciates the power of a good accessory, purchased this very briefcase at a London airport. His inspiration? None other than the iconic red briefcase of the British Chancellor of the Exchequer, famously used to transport the Budget to Parliament. Perhaps he envisioned himself, Budget in hand (or briefcase, rather), striding purposefully through the halls of Estonian Parliament, radiating an aura of fiscal responsibility and international sophistication. I mean, it must have worked to some degree as he became Prime Minister between 2002 and 2003 after holding the Finance role between 1999 and 2002.

In the years following the collapse of the Soviet Union, Estonia was eager to establish itself on the world stage. Joining the European Union was a key goal, and Mr. Kallas, with his snazzy new briefcase, was at the forefront of those efforts. Did the briefcase magically unlock the doors to the EU? Probably not. But it certainly didn’t hurt to project an image of a modern, organised, and – dare we say – stylish nation. Kallas was a respected figure though, he had worked as the Chairman of the Bank of Estonia between 1991 and 1995 so I assume he was quite good at financial stuff. A bit like Liz Truss wasn’t, but I mustn’t digress into politics. The briefcase, in its own quiet way, reflects the spirit of those times. It speaks of a nation embracing new ideas, drawing inspiration from established traditions, and forging its own path. It’s a reminder that even the smallest objects can hold significant meaning, especially when they’re carried by a man with a mission.

And, I’m glad that the museum has exhibits such as this, quirky and looking just a little irrelevant, they tell an intriguing story of their own.