Tag: Tallinn Trip

ОККУПАЦИОННЫЕ ВОЙСКА ВЫВЕСТИ К СРОКУ!

Which means ‘occupation troops out by the deadline’. Estonia declared independence in August 1991 and there was a campaign called PAKA, meaning ‘be gone’, which started soon after. It actually took three years for the Russian troops to finally leave, the date of 31 August 1994 is still commemorated today. In August 1991, there had been 40,000 members of the Russian military in Estonia across 570 different military facilities. It took them longer than it should have done to go, but Boris Yeltsin finally sped the process up. They had initially claimed that they needed to be there until 2002, then they compromised with 1997, but the Estonian people held protests and created handwritten posters such as this.

In Estonia today, there are few signs that the Soviets tried desperately to make Russian the primary language in the country. Estonian was used, but there was pressure on institutions to use Russian, careers often required the knowledge of Russian and children were taught Russian in schools.

The text reads EESTI KEEL kõigikeeleks, or “Estonian as the National Language” and it was used in the mass event of the Popular Front of Estonia at the Tallinn Song Festival Grounds in June 1988. Russian isn’t much used at all now in Estonia and an example is this museum, which translates only into English. I saw very few Russian translations anywhere in Tallinn, only really in a few places with older exhibits. And children are no longer taught Russian in schools. There were some schools which taught Russian, but times are changing (https://estonianworld.com/knowledge/estonias-russian-schools-to-switch-to-estonian-language-schooling/)….

And another badge, this one commemorating the 50th anniversary of the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact that the USSR spent decades pretending it didn’t sign.

The text mentions the 23 August 1939, with the badge being from 50 years later, the MRP is the same in English. The rest of the text reads “International Black Ribbon Day” which is a day of remembrance for victims of totalitarian regimes. The barbed wire adds a bit more emphasis to the oppression that the people of Estonia found themselves in and the way that Europe was divided. I like little exhibits such as this, they record not just the original bad event, but also how people remembered it. Black Ribbon Day is still a day of remembrance for the evils that took place under Stalinist and Nazi regimes.

The Baltic Way, also known as the Baltic Chain, was a pivotal moment in the history of Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania. On 23 August 23 1989, approximately two million people joined hands to form a human chain stretching 675 kilometres (419 miles) across the three Baltic states. This peaceful political demonstration marked the 50th anniversary of the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact, a secret agreement between Nazi Germany and the Soviet Union that led to the occupation and annexation of the Baltic states. It’s worth remembering that the Soviets lied about this for decades, desperate to hide the truth from the people.

The Baltic Way was a culmination of angry people who were fed up with the disaster that was the USSR and they wanted freedom for their nations. The demonstration was organised by the national movements of the three countries, Rahvarinne in Estonia, Tautas fronte in Latvia, and Sąjūdis in Lithuania. On 23 August 1989, two million people held hands in a remarkable show of solidarity. The chain stretched from Tallinn, the capital of Estonia, through Riga, the capital of Latvia, to Vilnius, the capital of Lithuania. The event was accompanied by the singing of national anthems and the ringing of church bells, with this badge being worn by one of the members of the crowd, although the museum doesn’t mention who the owner was.

What did the Soviet Government do about the Baltic Way? Absolutely nothing other than panic a bit. Two of the most evil men in twentieth century politics, Nicolae Ceaușescu and Erich Honecker, actually offered troops to force the break-up of the human chain. Honecker was fortunate not to suffer the fate of Ceaușescu, both guilty of crimes against humanity. The event is commemorated annually in the Baltic states and is a reminder of how freedom was taken away from the people. The house of cards is always near to toppling over in dictatorships.

Enno Piir (1910-2006) went into hiding during the occupation regime as one of the Forest Brother resistance movement. This group really were heroes, I can only aspire to have been as brave as them. They hid in the forests and persisted in guerilla warfare against the Soviets between 1940 and 1941, then again from 1944 to 1978. Fearing persecution (and rightly fearing this, the Soviets were big on executions), he took a false name after the Second World War as the Soviets went on the hunt for the members of the resistance movement, arresting hundreds of them. He was found in 1952 in Viljandimaa and arrested, being sentenced to 25 years imprisonment and sent to a prison camp in Komi land where he would have been subjected to hard labour. In this bag is a symbolic pocketful of soil from Estonia and he wanted some put in his grave, as he was sure he would die and never make it back to his homeland. However, he survived the prison camp and return to Estonia in 1957, keeping this bag until he died in 2006. A brave patriot.

This wooden cross was found by the grave of Jahfim Mitrovski, a member of a local Romani family, in Harku Forest near Tallinn. 243 Romani were executed in the Harku Concentration Camp in 1942, a third of them being members of the Mitrvoski family. The Romani population in Estonia hadn’t been large before the outbreak of the Second World War, around 1,000 people and they already faced discrimination and social marginalisation. Matters got much worse after the Germans occupied the country, member of the Romani population had to register with the authorities and were often sent to do forced labour. Given the relatively small population size, there was limited opportunity for resistance and it’s thought that over half of the community perished during the conflict. I can’t find out anything more about Jahfim Mitrovski, so perhaps all that remains is this grave marker displayed in the museum as a silent testimony to the suffering that the Romani people experienced.

This is another of those exhibits that I find fascinating, and I’m imagining someone at the museum does too given its on display, because of the period of history which this street sign represents. This street was originally known as Heina turg (Hay Market) and it was a bustling marketplace outside of the city walls. In the late nineteenth century it all became a bit more decadent with the construction of a grand boulevard with elegant buildings, somewhere fashionable for the elite of Tallinn to live. As it was near to the site of the 1905 Revolution, it was named Vabaduse puiestee (Freedom Boulevard) in 1918, but the Soviets renamed it 21 June Boulevard shortly after they invaded Estonia, in reference to the date they claimed the thrilled residents took part in a “worker’s demonstration” in Tallinn as they were so pleased they had been occupied. The Germans renamed it Victory Boulevard when they seized Estonia in 1941, but the Soviets restored the original name in 1944, not that they much believed in freedom. The street still bears the same name to this day and this sign is a reminder of the rather less than optimal time when the country was under occupation.

The museum isn’t quite sure, but they think this might have been the flag that was flown at the proclamation of the Republic of Estonia in Pärnu on 23 February 1918. It was discovered in 1969 in the attic of a house where stage manager Aleksey Rodyonov lived and he was one of three men who helped a flag on the roof of the theatre when the Manifesto of Independence was read out from the balcony of the Endia Theatre in the city. The flag was hastily made and the museum notes that the age of the cloth gives reason to believe that it was the tricolour that flew at that important moment in Estonia’s history. The flag design is only from the late nineteenth century, but it had become the flag of the nation by the time it became independent. It serves as a tangible and interesting link to a pivotal event in Estonian history and symbolises the nation’s enduring pursuit of self-determination and freedom.

There was a fire in the Endia Theatre in 1944 and it was never repaired, but its symbolic link to Estonian independence was important and so the Soviets blew it up in 1961. Today there is a monument in its place and the old balcony has been recreated and it’s possible that this flag was there at the time. There’s an image of the theatre at https://visitestonia.com/en/monument-to-declaring-the-independence-of-the-republic-of-estonia and so that’s another place I’ve decided that I want to go…..

This is the sort of random exhibit that I like in a museum, some old and slightly rusty barbed wire. Irrelevant in itself, but it at one stage marked the border between Russia and Estonia following the Treaty of Tartu. This was a good deal for Estonia, they got their independence and also a cash handout, whilst Russia were able to stop having to worry about the Estonian War of Independence which had been going on since 1918. The skilful deal was signed by Jaan Poska, who would have likely made an incredibly competent second hand car salesman, on behalf of Estonia and secured their independence until what transpired to be the Second World War. The barbed wire is from near the border with Narva, a crossing which has recently seen reduced access because of the whole Russian war thing. And it’s a reminder that sometimes rusty old things in museums have seen more drama than on a reality TV show.

Anyway, apologies to my two loyal blog readers that I’m now writing about barbed wire and apologies that there isn’t much Bev, Steve, Ross or Susanna gossip here. Ross had pretty much completed the museum, Steve had nearly completed it, I was about 30% of the way in and Susanna and Bev were still reading about Estonia in the fourteenth century.

Jaan Poska was something of an Estonian powerhouse, born in 1866 he was a lawyer turned politician. However, he negotiated with Bolsheviks, sort of charmed the Tsar, was a reforming Mayor and managed to carry off quite an impressive moustache. His mission was very much of putting Estonia on the map and not letting the country be the doormat of Russia, or indeed any other nation.

After studying law, Poska became the first Estonian-speaking lawyer in Tallinn and quickly gained a reputation for being a competent legal expert. In 1913, Poska became the Mayor of Tallinn, and the city got a serious upgrade. He became the ultimate city planner, fixing healthcare, building schools and focusing on the well-being of the citizens. Then came 1917, and Russia went a bit bonkers with the whole revolution thing. But while everyone else was busy stockpiling vodka and building barricades, Poska saw an opportunity. He seized the moment and declared Estonia an autonomous region. OK, it was a bit more complex than that, but he was astute and knew what he wanted.

In 1918, Estonia declared full-on independence and Russian considered this as sub-optimal. He managed though to secure peace with Russia at the Treaty of Tartu, when they realised that Estonian wasn’t coming back. I mean, actually it did after the Second World War when they were suppressed, but matters are more acceptable again now.

Sadly, Poska’s story has a bittersweet ending. He died in 1920 at the young age of 54. Estonia had lost its champion, but his legacy as one of the fathers of Estonian independence remains intact. This bust of him was created the year after his death and was sculpted by Anton Starkopf (1889-1966).