The Estonian government’s delegation laid flowers to the Bronze Soldier on May 8th, at the war cemetery where it had been moved. The monument did not receive such honors when it stood in Tallinn’s central square.
Photo: AP
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Monument Day
// Two versions of the Victory Day in Tallinn
Estonia celebrated the Victory Day on Wednesday, and Tuesday was the Day of Mourning for WWII victims. Both days, Kommersant’s special correspondent Mikhail Zygar watched in Estonia how and why Estonians and Russians do not understand each other.
Day of Silence
Estonian Prime Minister Andrus Ansip slowly but determinately approached the Bronze Soldier. Two old enemies must have seen each other for the first time. The PM gave a short but respectful bow. The Soldier had been cast with inclined head anyway. Two Estonian soldiers laid a wreath in front of the monument. Two members of his cabinet accompanied Ansip. Jaak Aaviksoo, serving as Defense Minister for a month already, and having held a peaceful position of the head of the University of Tartu before that, stood with a completely unhappy expression on his face. Urve Palo, young woman in a red scarf, head of a large construction company until recently, and now serving as the Minister of Population and Ethnic Affairs, clenched and unclenched her fists: it was very cold, and she had taken off her gloves.
Everyone kept silence. Just as the organizers had said in advance, there would be no speeches on the Day of Mourning for WWII victims. Having looked at the Bronze Soldier, the PM went ahead and stood to the monument’s left. He was followed by Tallinn’s Deputy Mayor Taavi Aas, who brought his own wreath, and by Sweden’s ambassador with a wreath from all diplomats. Other ambassadors were standing aside, watching silently. All ambassadors, except the Russian one, came to take part in the ceremony. Russian Embassy spokesman Maxim Kozlov explained that the embassy lays wreaths on May 9th only, according to the old Soviet tradition, and will not do the same on May 8th.
Chinese and Czech ambassadors decided to stand out, bringing their own flowers, beside the wreath from all ambassadors.
After standing in the war cemetery’s silence for about 15 minutes, the PM, his ministers, ambassadors, and journalists hurried to their cars. Earlier that day, they had laid flowers to the holocaust victims’ memorial in a forest near Tallinn, and were now going to Maarjamägi, where Wehrmacht soldiers who fought in Estonia are buried. By the way, the Russian Embassy listed the fact of visiting Maarjamägi as another reason of its refusal to participate in the mourning ceremony. Russian diplomats said they honor the memory of anti-Hitler coalition soldiers only. After the wreaths were laid, the Defense Minister went to journalists. It turned out they were to speak over a gravestone: the journalists were lined up right behind it, and the minister had to use it as a tribune.
“I hope that after the difficult years that Estonia spent under the occupations, German and Soviet, the Bronze Soldier has eventually found its last, I hope, place of repose and mourning for those who died in the war against fascism. By laying flowers to it, we honored the memory of all victims,” the minister was speaking slowly and loudly, strong wind from the gulf blowing straight into his face. “It is now standing in a war cemetery, I would say in a good company – among Estonians and Russians, Englishmen, Jews, Germans and Finns buried there. It is a good place, and it reflects well the tragic history of the Estonian nation. I hope that the people understand this decision of the government.”
Foreign journalists did not understand what the minister had said, and asked to repeat in English. I asked the minister what he thinks of the absence of Russian diplomats at the ceremony. The minister replied diplomatically:
“We know that Russia, just like the Soviet Union, traditionally celebrates the end of WWII, or the Great Patriotic War as they call it in Russia, on May 9th. We respect their tradition. Certainly, we would like them to come here today too. But it will be all right if they come to lay flowers on May 9th. I see no provocation in that.
“Do you believe there will be no provocations tomorrow?” asked a Russian TV channel’s reporter.
“I strongly hope so. Yet, we are getting prepared.”
I asked whether the Tonismagi Square will be opened for people’s access on May 9th.
“Security reasons force us to keep the square fenced,” replied the minister in a voice that hoarsened on the wind.
Day of Flowers
Sun came out on May 9th morning. People gathered at the war cemetery, so empty the day before. The small triangular square right in front of the Bronze Soldier looked fantastic. It was covered with a thick carpet of scarlet carnations already by 9 a.m. People kept coming, disorderly, from all directions, 3-5 every second. Young men in expensive suits. Poorly clad old women wearing broken glasses. Long-haired guys in black leather jackets. Girls in designer sunglasses and on high heels. Women over 50, dyed blonde. Schoolchildren in striped sweaters. I’ve never seen such a variegated crowd. But all of them brought red carnations. They silently lid them to the monument, stood for some time, and left.
Russian Ambassador Nikolai Uspensky appeared at 10 a.m. His wreath, colored as the Russian flag, was huge, and the expression on his face was lost. He was immediately surrounded by western journalists, shouting questions to him in all languages, it seemed.
“The Ambassador is not giving comments today,” the spokesman shouted back, but the ambassador himself was so lost that he suddenly began answering questions. He said simply that he is in holiday mood and glad about nice weather.
“May 9th is our holiday. I am very pleased that our holiday is remembered and honored here in Estonia. I am very glad there are so many veterans here. We will go to the cemetery together now, and then we will hold a concert for them!”
The Ambassador was led away, and the excited western journalists continued by interviewing Rossia TV channel’s reporter. A skinny bow-backed veteran, covered with military decorations and holding flowers, approached the monument. About 20 TV cameras rushed to him.
“Grandpa will become newsmaker now!” cheerfully exclaimed his granddaughter, who was standing next to me. The veteran really began speaking. The granddaughter said worriedly:
“Oh, he is saying the wrong thing. Cuz he’s almost deaf. They ask him what he thinks of the monument’s removal, and he’s telling his life story to them: how he fought, where he served.”
The granddaughter tried to lead her grandfather away, but the journalists did not let her. They took the veteran aside, to the place where Prime Minister Ansip had stood the day before, and began a thorough press conference.
“What do you think, why Russians want the memorial to stay there, in Tallinn’s center?” asked a German reporter in broken Russian.
“I want my children to live in peace. And my grandchildren, and my great-grandchildren. I already have seven great-grandchildren. My grandson is a soccer player, he goes to Russia frequently,” replied the veteran proudly.
The flowers laid to the monument formed a pile about 30 centimeters high. People queued to enter the cemetery.
Day of Songs
The Tonismagi Square was not opened, just as the defense minister had promised. Gardening works were going on there all day. About 20 women with shovels were planting flowers behind the fence. They paid no attention to what was going on outside. Meanwhile, people were coming and interlacing carnations into the fence. Policemen in bright-yellow jackets were standing on the other side of the street, asking people politely to cross it by pedestrian walkway. Cars were stopping to let people with flowers pass. People were flowing in a stream, interlacing carnations into the fence, returning, and taking stand along the wall.
“So, shall we shout?” asked an obviously tipsy woman to those standing along the wall. “Shame! Shame! Shame!”
She was immediately pushed away. People along the wall began handing out St. George ribbons, and it seemed that half of the city put them on in just 30 minutes. Almost all cars and people passing by became decorated with St. George ribbons. More symbols appeared later: white balloons with the Bronze Soldier and words “I remember, I feel pride” were tied to the fence. Restless fighter for Russians’ rights Dmitry Klensky appeared in the crowd, giving interview to some radio stations right away.
“If I were Russia,” the activist said modestly, “I would completely disregard the actions of the Estonian authorities. Or, I would immediately bring troops into the city. Either thing.”
“Dmitry Kirillovich, what are you saying!” women admonished him.
“Yeah! Why America can bring troops to Iraq, and Russia can’t?” he asked.
A group of elderly women with a pack of war songs lyrics came up.
“Let’s sing! Estonians like songs. They even had a singing revolution! They’ll understand us if we protest and sing!”
The women sang cordially the songs “Victory Day”, “Blue Kerchief”, and “Katyusha”. Policemen smiled and even applauded a little.
“Let’s sing “Sacred War” now?” suggested one of the women. The others admonished her:
“No, no! We shouldn’t provoke!”
More people were coming. They looked different from those who went to the cemetery. Here, they came to protest, and not to mourn. Young woman Natasha came with her 5-year-old daughter and her husband. But she wasn’t talking to him for the whole day.
“You see, my husband is Lithuanian. And his Lithuania forced a rusty knife into our hearts. The Lithuanian government said it supports the Bronze Soldier’s removal.”
Natasha’s husband wanted to argue at first, but gave it up and went to stick flowers into the fence.
“Why have you come here instead of the war cemetery?” I asked Viktor, a painter who came with two children on a bicycle.
“Why? Because this place is sacred,” he answered simply.
Blockade veteran Rufina Arkadyevna, with tears in her eyes, was putting to the question a French journalist who was trying to interview her:
“Tell me, does Europe really want a World War III? I’d never think there will be fascists all over Europe! What a shame! Tell me, do you really want war?”
The French reporter couldn’t figure out what Rufina Arkadyevna wanted from her, and was on the brink of crying herself.
Day of Incomprehension
There were now more and then less people on the Tonismagi Square. Night Watch activists ran out of St. George ribbons, while everyone kept asking them for more.
“Nothing will follow. It will be calm,” one of Night Watchers told me. “Simply, those who became completely disappointed will now act differently. They will hold individual actions of protest, better organized and more radical.”
“Dear friend, don’t you take part in those radical actions,” a chorus of people standing around began admonishing him.
“I probably won’t. I’ll find a job and go live in Russia.”
The crowd was ebbing away.
“I am sure there will be no more disorders,” Estonia’s Foreign Minister Urmas Paet assured me in his office. “It is over. Perhaps, the monument’s removal led to a short-term polarization of the society, but it will produce a positive effect on everyone in the long-term perspective. No one will be able to use it for provocations anymore. In fact, I do not understand why the monument is the symbol for Russians, and not the Russian Theater or the Russian cultural center.”
“But no one is trying to remove the theater, right?”
“The Bronze Soldier symbolizes occupation to us.”
“So, you believe that you have done everything right, without any mistakes?”
“Right. And there will be no more disorders,” the minister said again.
Perhaps, he insisted so much because Estonian newspaper Postimees published on Wednesday the interview of Interior Minister Juri Pihl. In this interview, Pihl said that Kommersant’s correspondent, in his previous report, urged Tallinn’s residents to come out to the Tonismagi Square and hold a protest rally there. That is how he understood it. So, I now don’t know if I understood everything correctly this time. Actually, the only thing I understood is that no one really understands others.
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How Latvia, Lithuania, and Poland Celebrated Victory Day
Baltic states and Poland devoted May 9th to fighting against everything reminding of the times of Soviet rule. Latvia’s capital Riga had a fight near the Victory monument in the city center. Activists of the local National Force Union decided to lay flowers to the monument in honor of Bolshevik victims. Members of the Latvian Anti-Fascist Committee tried to prevent them from doing so. However, the police interfered, arresting several people.
A scandalous incident happened in Türi, Estonia. Someone vandalized the monument to Red Army soldiers who protected the city in 1941, by drawing a swastika on the sculpture.
Lithuania did not celebrate the Victory Day: May 8th and 9th are usual working days there. Lithuanian parliament’s speaker Viktoras Muntianas said it is due to the controversial attitude to these dates: “Fascism was defeated in May 1945. However, it should be taken into account what consequences this victory brought to Baltic states. For us, May 8th is the day of victory over fascism, and May 9th is the first day of the Soviet occupation.”
Poland raised the issue of the draft bill “About sites of national memory”. It will legalize the demolition of the monuments “of the Soviet totalitarianism era”. Polish Prime Minister Jaroslav Kachinsky said the bill will be passed as soon as technical questions are solved. “It is Estonia’s sovereign right to decide which monuments it should have. It will be the same way in Poland, assured Kachinsky. The authorities of Poland’s city of Katowice announced on Wednesday that Russia had agreed to moving the monument to Soviet soldiers from the central Freedom Square to a war cemetery. The monument to the fighters for the country’s independence will be established instead. Yet, it is quite likely that a monument to late US president and Katowice’s honorary citizen Ronald Reagan will appear on the square.
Mikhail Zygar, Estonia
All the Article in Russian as of May 10, 2007
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