What Prospects for a Baltic Sea region?

Over the past decade, regionalism has resurfaced on the international political agenda. The demise of bipolar division, globalisation, and rekindled cultural affiliation are but a few causes for such development. In a European context, there is reason to question whether the new regions will prove viable constructions, or if some are but transient phenomena in an overall evolution towards a Europe of the regions. Therefore, even advocates of Baltic Sea regionalism must ask –What are the prospects for a Baltic Sea region?

To prove cohesive, regions should be endowed with political dynamics of their own, driven by distinctive agendas, patterns of interaction and governed by regimes. They may be based on identification, institutionalism or functionalism, driven by subjective factors such as history, culture and identity, or by objective factors such as geography, geo-economics and geopolitics.

The rise of regional co-operation
The idea of Baltic co-operation arose in the late 1960’s out of concern for marine pollution in the Baltic Sea. Environmental protection proved an uncontroversial area for co-operation even for states divided by the Iron Curtain. In 1974 the Helsinki Commission was formed to monitor Baltic marine environment. All the same, it was not until the 1990 Ronneby Summit that environmental issues became a nucleus for extended co-operation. The Summit gathered regional heads of government, and for the first time the – then soviet – Baltic republics were allowed high level international representation. Ronneby led to the foundation of the Council of the Baltic Sea States (CBSS) in 1992, forming the hub of regional co-operation for the decade since. The CBSS was perceived as ”an overall regional forum to focus on needs for intensified cooperation and coordination among the Baltic Sea States” and set as its goal to ”strengthen the cohesion among these countries, leading to greater political and economic stability as well as a regional identity.” The Council comprises the Nordic and Baltic States, Russia, Poland, Germany and the European Commission. The bulk of co-operation has taken place in the large network of issue-specific organisations that developed in the 1990’s. Success or failure for these organisations may determine if the region will gain a common political agenda or be subject to interaction between individual state interests.

A region in the making?
A region of some 70 million people, the Baltic Sea area comprises major population centres of Northern and Central Europe. It looks back on a long tradition of trade and migration dating to the origins of recorded history. Whether dealing with Viking relations with ancient Rus’ or medieval trade within the Hanseatic League, one may find factors of commonality transcending the shores of the Baltic. History may be used as a symbol of unity in the pursuit of a common cultural heritage. In modern times, the Nordic as well as the Baltic States have often been perceived as geographic entities by the outside world. Larger nations, such as Germany, Poland and Russia, have used the region as a gate to either east or west.

If today, a regional identity is to be constructed, substantial development is needed, beside common frameworks and measures facilitating interaction. This includes improving both material conditions for trade and economy, transport and communication, and conditions for social sustainability in fields such as environment and health, democracy and justice. In both areas, directions of overall European integration will prove decisive for further development.

In the early 1990’s, countries of the region fought to grasp the new reality evolving around them. A number of alternatives were considered: formation of a neutral bloc in Central Europe, Baltic States’ admission to the Nordic Council, to mention but a few. Russia’s October 1993 events – the shelling of the White House – combined with Swedish and Finnish 1994 EU accession turned focus towards NATO and EU rapprochement among former Eastern bloc countries. Enlargement became the dominant issue on the agenda. Thus, Baltic Sea co-operation increasingly turned towards the EU, manifested by the 1996 Baltic Sea region initiative. The 1997 Northern dimension emphasised this overall direction. Today, Poland, Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania have all entered the European Union. As the map of Europe has once more been redrawn, how will it affect the Baltic Sea region?

Most Baltic Sea states are small countries, which individually have little leverage in an enlarged Union. Forming EU-policies on the basis of regional interests would offer greater influence on the development of the Union. Polish and Baltic membership in the EU has carried prospects for regional policy co-ordination, which - thus far - have been poorly exploited. However, to form a region, Baltic Sea states must realise that success is achieved as much out of common values as out of common interests. Progress towards this aim has gradually been made by regional co-operation, laying a material foundation for a social sense of regional commonality. To assure long-term regional concord, peoples of the Baltic must develop a feeling of shared destiny – a regional identity.

Dividing lines?
It is argued that international co-operation is best pursued among states of comparable size and power. When larger and smaller states interact, co-operation risks either dominance or neglect from the large. In the Baltic Sea region, Germany, Poland and Russia are giants in comparison to other CBSS-members. While German participation in regional co-operation has been stable, EU-membership has extended Poland’s choice of partners in Union affairs. A country of some 40 million, Poland may regard unilateral action, temporary alliance-building or issue-specific agreement with other actors more attractive than Baltic Sea co-operation. Sharing a common Union framework, the Baltic Sea region may still offer sufficient synergy for both Germany and Poland to find regionalism an attractive alternative. Instead, Russia remains the great outstanding issue.

Inclusion versus exclusion was at the top of the 1990’s European agenda. Among CBSS-states, all but Russia are members of either NATO or the EU. Neither is an option for Moscow. Instead, a socio-economic gap is widening between Russia and the rest of Europe. The old debate whether Russia is part of Europe has also resurfaced. Social and material exclusion of the country from European affairs is evolving. Having conceded to NATO enlargement, Moscow’s main concern is access to the European market. Russian WTO accession may prove a means in relations with Europe. If EU-enlargement to the Baltic Sea region excludes Russia from equal terms of trade with other CBSS-states, Moscow may co-operate only as far as it serves her own interests. This would hamper regional integration. The Baltic Sea region may become the major playground for Europe’s Russian dilemma. In all, if the larger CBSS-states start pulling in different directions, the Baltic Sea region will be a concern only for the small. Such development risks endangering long-term regional stability.

What prospects for a Baltic Sea region?
Hopes are as great as misgivings for a Baltic Sea region. What it all winds down to in the end is if the area actually makes for a region. Functionally, the area may form a region in geographic, economic and political terms. Institutionally, regional co-operation has a distinctive agenda and specific patterns of interaction governed by the CBSS-regime. Whether the region will carry its own political dynamics or simply has served as an antechamber to the EU is, however, too early to say. The future of Baltic Sea regionalism will largely depend on the evolution of a regional identity. It is especially encouraging that business and finance increasingly perceive a single Baltic Sea market. Thus, material conditions would form the social basis for regional development. For over a decade now, we have crossed old borders of political and economic division to interact in the pursuit of a common good. In review of some 15 years’ co-operative development, great progress has been made in the formation of a Baltic Sea region, but its realisation is still too early to predict.

Baltic Sea, region, regionalism, prospects, future

2008 Press Review

To what extent does mainstream media take into account what bloggers say about developments in Central and Eastern Europe? This is the question one has to put to oneself as one threads the thin line between blogging and expertise. Is the blogosphere but a shortcut for covering issues too complex to write about facing a deadline or is there a true desire to present a second opinion beyond the everyday chores of public policy-media discourse?

A couple of examples of what hopefully is the latter concern my own writings and analyses. Thus, in June this year I was interviewed by Aleks Tapinsh, Baltic correspondent of Deutsche Presse Agentur (DPA) for the upcoming Riga Summit of the Council of the Baltic Sea States (CBSS). The story - "Baltic States Want Energy Cooperation Despite Pipeline Row" - covered the same theme as has been the case over the course of the Council's existence, viz. environmental issues and economic development, with the recent addition of energy and pipeline disputes in the Baltic. Still, amidst the course of yawnful meetings and press conferences, the DPA succeeded in posing the crucial question: What role for Baltic Sea cooperation and the CBSS now that an overwhelming majority of its members are also part of the European Union? My reply was the following:

Without the EU the CBSS would be naught, but also the EU needs this sort of regional cooperation. In this sense, organizations like the CBSS or the European Dialogue in the Mediterranean are essential for making EU policies work.

In December, Gabriela Ioniţă of Romanian policy journal Cadran politic interviewed me on Russian domestic and foreign policy, sovereign democracy, the 2020 policy plan, and consequences of the war with Georgia. Quoting me, in titling the article "Russia’s strive for recognition as an equal in international affairs is ---the greatest flaw in Moscow policy,” very much reflects a basic argument, that the high politics of the Kremlin leaves too little room for actively pursuing Russian interests. Russia's foreign policy simply is too much a matter of existence and recognition, and too little one of strategy and action. In military terms, one would say that the linkage between strategic, tactical and operative levels is too weak. Still, attention should be given to the fundamentally more strategic thinking, which has developed in recent years - currently labelled sovereign democracy.

Coverage in Swedish media has largely revolved around a couple of reports I have written or participated in. Thus, following the publication of my 2008 report on Russian democracy, Russia - a sovereign democracy: a study of popular rule and state power in demise, Swedish daily Svenska Dagbladet wrote:

Konnander also puts the finger on a more unexpected consequence of developments under Putin. Normally, one associates political stability and centralization with a strong exercise of state power. But Konnander shows, using e.g. the World Bank governance indicators, that so has not become the case in Russia in ecent years. Instead, "the state capacity to exercise power has been significantly reduced, why the political system becomes all the more susceptible to crises. --- Democracy in Russia has decline, but so has also the capacity to sustain an authoritarian rule in the long run. Russia's political future thus becomes increasingly uncertain."

Commenting on Russia's tense relations with Georgia, Dagens Nyheter quotes the study in extenso:

For Moscow the loss of Ukraine as political friend - the historical Little Russia - became a rude awakening from the illusion that Russia's rising political stability could also encompass its near abroad - the country's vital sphere of interest. The Kosovo 1999 intervention, Serbia's 2000 bulldozer revolution, Georgia's 2003 rose revolution - in the same year as the US-led invasion of Iraq - Ukraine's 2004-2005 orange revolution, and Kyrgyzstan's 2005 tulip revolution, in all formed a pattern, which the Russian élite interpreted as a ever-growing threat against Russia itself.

Hudiksvall's Tidning also reflects on my results:

Also during the Yeltsin era, one freedom or another could be somewhat arbitrarily limited. The difference is that now the limitations have been written down in a number of fluffy laws, which more or less give a carte blanche for authorities to intervene against about anything that they think is annoying.

Blekinge Läns Tidning directs attention to similarities between the old Soviet élite and its current Russian epitomisation:

Even though Konnander does not explicitly say so, similarities with Marxist thinking are striking - a very élitist perception of society. He also illustrates by many examples how the regions and the media have lost their power, and how Russians turn to the European Court of Human Rights instead of seeking redress in their own court system, as this is nowadays considered too fundamentally biased.

Whereas my contribution to another study, The Caucasian Test case, on the August 2008 Russo-Georgian war, largely questioned generally accepted truths, the overall media reaction was one of portraying Russia as a growing threat to international security. Thus, Svenska Dagbladet wrote that "Russia chose its path in Georgia - the wrong path". Deutsche Welle wrote that "The Russian lesson was that the international community was not prepared, willing or able to add any costs to the Russian actions".

Finnish daily Hufvudstadsbladet reasoned along similar lines of thought: "Russia's actions now compels a reassessment of the prevailing world order". Västerbottenskuriren adds to this argumentation: "It is not the conflict per se - known for long - that has triggered the deterioration, but the fact that Russia has chosen to lower its threshold barring the use of violence and thus has chosen to change the rules of international relations. The Russian position constitutes a direct challenge to the current world order and signifies a new phase in Russian foreign policy." Världen idag concludes: "Due to Russian action in Georgia the security situation in Europe has deteriorated. And when Russia challenges the world, the mechanisms of the world community are paralyzed." Finally, Russian Novye Izvestiya has its own angle on the report, claiming that it supports the notion that Israeli military advisors took active part in the war on Georgia's side.

It is indeed peculiar how the media spins different stories, but also how security interests get their story across - here the Russian menace. That my own contribution to the Georgia report got minimal attention may perhaps point to the fallacies of mainstream media. Fundamentally questioning the extent and significance of the so-called Russian cyberwar against Georgia, it should really have attracted more notice than it did, since the general image portrayed by international media was that of a massive cyber attack.

Still, it is often not the stories that challenge assumptions, but the ones that confirm bias which conquer the day. Once the media beat has been set, even a potential scoop would have great difficulty to overcome a consensual media agenda. So, by the end of the day, there is little room for deviance as the public policy-media discourse evolves. When one, to the contrary, gets one's message across, there is no saying how it will be processed by its recipients, given the fundamental predisposition to interpret Russia in very simplified terms. That is the basic dilemma of policy-media interaction - a dilemma that may or may not be averted by the workings of a global and independent blog discourse. At least, blogs give each and everyone the opportunity to have his or her say, even though alternative facts and hypotheses risk getting lost in cyberspace.

Estonia: Battle by Bronze Proxy

Why is it that a WW II-monument repeatedly sparks bilateral crises between Estonia and Russia? This question has, in recent days, gained new relevance after strong Russian reactions against the Estonian parliament's decision to remove the so called Bronze Soldier (Pronkssõdur) soviet war monument from central Tallinn. The reason is simple: The Bronze Soldier has become a proxy for the conflict between Estonian and Russian interests in Estonia before the 4 March parliamentary elections. The Estonians thus vage a battle by bronze proxy.

It is becoming increasingly clear that Edgar Savisaar's Centre Party (Keskerakond), will stand as victors on election day, ousting the coalition government led by Prime Minister Andrus Ansip's Reform Party (Reformierakond). Such a result risks toppling the delicate balance between western financial interests, dominating the Estonian banking system, and Russian interests controlling the lucrative transit trade, with far-reaching consequences for domestic and foreign policy.

Economic interest has been one of the main driving-forces in Estonian politics since the country regained its independence in 1991. A division of labour was developed roughly between two opposing groupings - the Russians controlling transit trade and backed by Moscow, and the Estonians controlling the financial and banking sector and backed by western - mainly Scandinavian - interests. This is reflected also in politics. Thus, Savisaars Centre Party has gradually become Moscow's agent, with heavy economic backing from Russia, to the point that the party actually has entered into union with Russian power party United Russia (Единая Россия). Savisaar's main opponent, the Reform Party, is to the contrary linked to finance and banking dominated by western business interests. A final peculiar twist to the matter is that these two main contenders for political power in Estonia, in fact form the current coalition government, together with the People's Union (Rahvaliit).

It is obvious that the the Bronze Soldier crisis this time is a desperate attempt by the Reform Party, facing potential defeat, to gain votes by shedding light over the close relations between the Centre Party and Russia. So, who are the major players in Moscow's relations with Estonia? On the Russian side, two names stand out as safeguarding these interests, namely Gleb Pavlovsky, one of Russia's foremost "political technologists," and Igor Levitin, Russia's Minister of Transportation. Pavlovsky gained wider international attention in 2005, due to allegations of involvement in the dioxin poisoning of Ukrainian president-to-be Victor Yushchenko. As for Levitin, Savisaar the other year unsuccesfully tried to grant him Estonian citizenship due to his great services to the country.

Then, what is actually at stake for the upcoming elections? Estonia is currently struggling with an overinflated rate of public lending - a financial bubble that could easily burst in face of any radical change of power in Tallinn. If Savisaar's Centre Party would win on 4 March, this might well be the spark to set off a major financial crisis in Estonian economy. As the Reform Party relies on the finance and banking sectors that constitute the lenders, such development would be catastrophic to the party, and potentially topple the fragile balance of power within Estonian politics and society. Moreover, it would hit hard on the western investors, forming Estonia's link to European economy. Therefore, the Reformists now are desperate to undermine the Russian interests forming the power base for Savisaar's Centrists. Thus, the Bronze Soldier crisis must be seen as an attempt to provoke sanctions from Russia, which would hit the very transit trade that forms the basis of Savisaar's Russian backing.

As the Estonian parliament (Riigikogu) this morning decided to move the Bronze Soldier monument, the country's president, Toomas Hendrik Ilves, was quick to declare that he would not sign such legislation, claiming it to be in breach of the constitution. In this context, one must ask whether it really was necessary for the parliament to pass a law on the removal of the Bronze Soldier. If this really was the intention of the Reform Party, could it not have been easier accomplished by a simple government decision? From this perspective, it is quite obvious that the Reformist ulterior motive was to provoke a crisis with Russia that would benefit the party for the upcoming elections.

So, what have been the reactions in Moscow? Russian Foreign Minister, Sergey Lavrov, was quick to characterise the decision as a "grave mistake" and as a "blasphemous act." Also, the chairman of the Russian Duma's foreign relations committee said that the decision would have catastrophic consequences for Russian-Estonian relations, especially trade and economy, thus hinting at exactly the effect the Reformist Party wanted to achieve. However, Estonia's ambassador to Moscow, Marina Kaljurand, was quick to point out that Russia would be unlikely to impose bilateral sanctions on Estonia, not wanting to risk a "trade war" with the European Union. What will actually come out of this is yet to be seen, but it seems that Russian politicians would be shrewd enough to call the bluff. Still, Russian-Estonian relations have been shaky for long, as previously reported, so it is difficult to say what will come out of Moscow this time.

Here one should instead direct more attention to an overseen foreign policy factor in the context of Russian-Estonian relations, namely the projected Russian gas pipeline through the Baltic Sea. This crucial project for Russia is meeting increasing opposition among Baltic Sea states, and currently public opinion also in Sweden is turning against letting the pipeline run through its territorial waters. Would Sweden and other Baltic states turn down the project, with a Centrist government ruling Estonia, one scenario is that Russia might turn its frustration towards Tallinn, possibly giving massive support to Savisaar in order to gain a permanent influence over EU-member Estonia. This would create a very difficult terrain for the EU and Estonia's neighbours to manouevre, not to speak of what challenges it would pose to president Ilves and the Estonian political system.

Finally, is there any solution in sight for the issue of the Bronze Soldier monument? As for its removal, Estonia probably lost its chance back in 1991. However, doing so spurred an idea of expanding the monument to hold also statues of Estonian, German, as well as allied soldiers of WW II, along with various paraphernalia. This idea was never realised, paradoxically due to lack of metal for the statues. In the early 1990s, Estonia was a major exporter of metal, despite its evident lack of this type of natural resources. Mainly Russian business interests made fortunes by exporting whatever metal scrap they could lay their hands on, thus forming the mighty Russian economic interests that now dominate the transit trade. So, what then made Russian fortunes - the metal that might have expanded the Bronze Soldier monument into a unifying symbol for Russians and Estonians alike - now comes back to haunt the transit profiteers by a constant threat of sanctions to their trade. Had there been metal then, this explosive matter might have been defused at an early stage. Then, of course, Estonians and Russians would probably have found some other symbol to quarrel over.

Comment: On Baltic economy, especially Latvia, cf. "A Bursting Baltic Bubble." For an overview of Russian-Estonian relations see also "Estonia: Stalemate in Russian Relations."

Prometheus Unbound?

A Ukraine eternally condemned to be split between east and west is the image that persistently lingers on the retina of imagery as historical, cultural, lingual, and religious differences are allowed to dominate over unifying forces in world perceptions of the country's national identity. The image of a country fettered to its historic fate is today however confronted by a contrasting picture with roots in regional and national myths, linking together nations reunited in freedom at the shores of the Black Sea. Less known is that its origins are to be found in the ancient myth of Prometheus - the titan who stole the fire from the gods and gave it to man.

Prometheus (Gr. he who thinks ahead) brought man the enlightenment - fire and knowledge - denied to her by higher powers. In eternal punishment, Zeus had him chained to a rock on mount Kaukasos, where an eagle was set to feast on his liver. His self-sacrificial torment was eventually ended by Hercules, who killed the eagle and set the titan free. Freed from his strains, Zeus still deemed the titan forever to carry the burden of a Caucasian cliff in the remains of his chains. In memory of Prometheus' suffering, man to this day bear stones in their rings.

The appealing Prometheus myth became the theme for the Ukrainian national poet's, Taras Shevchenko (1814-1861), epos Kavkaz (1845). The father of Ukrainian literature wrote the work in memory of a close friend - Yakiv de Balman - who had fallen in Russian service in the Caucasus that year. Its edge is however not directed against the Chechens, who had killed his friend, but against the injustices of the Russian empire in denying oppressed peoples their freedom. What today is perceived as expressions of budding Ukrainian nationalism and a strive for independence from Russia, to the contrary encompasses a more general vision of liberty and justice to all nationalities set to carry the burden of the Tsarist yoke.

The Prometheus myth was a recurrent theme in both revolutionary and other liberation movements. It is for example found in the nationalist and socialist struggles against Tsarist rule; on the Balkans in the fight against the Osman empire as well as subsequently in attempts by the Crimmean Tatars to receive support from the new Kemalist Turkey in the 1920s. However, it was foremost by the inception of the Promethean movement that the myth gained greater fame as a symbol in the struggle against Russian and Soviet imperialism, why Prometheism at times also has been interpreted as a form of Russophobia.

For posterity, the Promethen movement has mainly come to be associated with Poland and the authoritarian nationalism of Józef Piłsudski (1867-1935). The Polish leader's ambition to contain Russian expansionism got its ideological inspiration from Promethean freedom ideals and its geopolitical expression in Intermarum - a projected federation of states between the Baltic and Black seas to counteract first Russian imperialism then the Bolshevik threat and to quell the power of the soviets. The image that - with some justification - portrays Piłsudski both as the founder and the front figure of Prometheism however also serves to obscure a more nuanced picture of a once nascent regional movement. In reality, the Promethean movement once gathered leading politicians and diplomats exiled from many of the countries, which had barely experienced a short interregnum of independence between Tsarist rule and Soviet power.

With the Paris magazine Promethée (1926) as a hub, exile circles created an ever-growing think-tank "in defence of the oppressed peoples of the Caucasus and Ukraine". Gradually, this task was expanded geographically also to encompass all the peoples, who had fallen under the tyranny of soviet power, and thus the movement gained an overall eurasian expansion. The Prometheans engaged into intense lobbying to direct the attention of European government to the destinies of the oppressed peoples in the decades leading up to the Second World War. By public seminars and culture festivals, attempts were made not only to draw attention to nations erased from world maps, but also build an image of a common historical and cultural destiny, where trade and oceans united the peoples. Consequently, the Prometheans linked their ideas to the era's geopolitical division between dynamic sea power - talassocracy - and rigid land power - tellurocracy - where Russia naturally was referred to as the main example of the latter. To the contrary, the free trade of the oceans was related to free and independent states. That the maritime freedom theme was expanded to cover also old trade routes, such as between the Baltic and the Black seas - along predominantly Russian river systems - as well as the caravan routes along the Silk Road, only comes out as natural as the diminishing significance of exile communities demanded a broader basis. Focus was thus expanded from the Baltic-Black Sea-Caucasus axis to also cover Central Asia.

At the same time, ideas arose in the 1930s to found a political and economic alliance between Black Sea states such as Turkey, Romania, Bulgaria as well as Ukraine and Georgia once the latter had regained independence. For the Prometheans, this appeared a greater task than Piłsudski's Intermarum vision. The Black Sea question was essentially considered the final solution to the Eastern Question. However, history wanted differently. Ukraine and the Caucasus remained under soviet rule, Romania's borders were revised, and Bulgaria became the Soviet Union's most loyal ally in the Balkans during the Cold War.

After the Second World War, the Promethean ideals appeared as antiquated as history had made them obsolete. They lived on in the memories of exile communities in the west, but found little ground in the realities of the time. The centre of the movement was moved to the US, but dwindled into oblivion already in the early 1950s.

After the end of the Cold War, the return of history has seen a - conscious or unconscious - renaissance for the ideas of Prometheism. Already in 1992, the Black Sea Economic Council was founded. After the coloured revolutions, Ukraine and Georgia deepened their relations by the 2005 Borjomi declaration. This was followed in 2006 with the CIS-sceptics Georgia, Ukraine, Azerbaijan, and Moldova (GUAM), setting up the regional Organization for Democratic and Economic Development, with its goal to "strengthen democracy, rule of law, human rights and freedoms, and security and stability". No great imagination is needed to realise that closer regional cooperation was aimed at reducing Russian influence over these countries.

Also, the project of creating an Intermarum between the Baltic and Black Seas seems, to some extent, to have been revived. Thus, it was the Polish and Lithuanian presidents - Alexander Kwasniewski and Valdas Adamkus - who served as mediator in the Ukrainian orange revolution and committed the EU to the country's continued reform process. That the inheritors of the mediaeval Polish-Lithuanian Union, once reaching the shores of the Black Sea, engaged themselves to Ukraine's political fate, undeniably brings out echoes of history. Warzaw and Vilnius are also Kiev's and Tbilisi's most ardent protagonists for continued euro-atlantic integration. Regional and bilateral cooperation in various constellations continues to evolve between the four countries. At the same time, the relation of them all to Russia, today are put on strain.

It is thus in terms of aims and ambitions that this "neo-Prometheism" evoke apprehensions. As these ideas now are brought out of the dustbin of history, one should not forget that - for good or evil - they are a creation of their time. Is the goal once more to contain Russia - to form a cordon sanitaire against Moscow's power projections? Apparently, it seems as if the tide is turning in that direction, even though a majority of EU and NATO capitals still pay great consideration to Russia.

From the US horizon, a coalition against Russia may be considered an option if relations to Moscow continue to deteriorate. In the event of a Democratic takeover in Washington, "neo-Promethean" ambitions may gain increased American support. The foreign policy nestor of the US Democratic Party - Zbigniew Brzezinski - is a long-time fan of such visions and was also the architect to the US policy of undermining the Eastern Bloc and demolishing the Soviet Union. Such a turn of events would, however, transform Prometheism from a positive to a negative mission - from integration to exclusion.

From the perspective of the European Union, the bad relations between the Soviet-Russian empire's former colonies and vassal states and current Russia, is a constant element of irritation in the capitals of old Europe. Hesitance and protraction in Ukrainian EU-integration may be interpreted as an expression of apprehension that if Europe's Eastern border would run from the Baltic to the Black Sea, it might topple a precarious balance in already strained relations to Moscow. Moreover, if the Caucasian card would be played out, EU may fear to be dealt a bad hand in a game played out between Moscow and Washington. Still, Ukrainan - as well as Turkish - accession to the Union is a natural and unavoidable development if Brussels is to remain faithful to the ideas of Europe. The dynamics this would bring may also return some of the vitality to the EU, in contrast to the prospects of Eurosclerosis.

As the Ukraine today is the geographical and polictical hub for a neo-Promethean movement, its positive sides may well prove a way ahead for both the Ukraine as the region in its entirety. If regional and western integration is allowed to walk hand in hand, the historical, cultural, lingual, and religious rifts characterising current Ukraine might perhaps be mended. A regional vision would tranform into a national vision, which might better reflect the complex nature of Ukrainian statehood. Here, European integration is an example for co-existence in multinational states.

What originally set Prometheism apart from other national liberation movements was a vision beyond narrow national interests. It waw the rights of small states to independently determine their destinies and the self-evidence in attaining development in cooperation with other nations as well as by regional integration and free trade, that gave the movement its special dynamics. In this sense, Prometheism was way ahead of its time and anachronic to the historical environment in which it existed. Its negative side was the tendency to let the legitimate strive for independence from Russian hegemony turn into outright Russophobia.

As the wings of history once more hover over the fettered Prometheus, hopes are set for Herculean liberation out of the claws of the Russian two-headed eagle. Will the chains thus be broken or will the American white-headed eagle simply take its place. Free or fettered, is Prometheus - the enlightener - destined to eternally live in the shadow of eagles? However, if the burden of freedom is merely to carry a stone in the bond of faithfulness to the ideals he has taught, this would seem a small sacrifice for the European titans of our times.

Russia: Motives & Misperceptions

As relations between Russia and the West deteriorate, a growing tendency to misperceive Russian motives is discerned. Russia is not a monolithic power, but analysts increasingly tend to give prominence to factors that themselves cannot wholly explain Moscow's actions. A recent example is the Russian-Estonian crisis.

The current crisis between Moscow and Tallinn has its specific origins, and should come as no surprise to most observers. The basic preconditions for crisis were set already in the early 1990s, and both parties are since stuck in a mutually detrimental relationship. The difference this time though is that there currently are no countervailing forces in Moscow to keep the conflict in check, as has previously been the case. This is matched by poor judgement on the Estonian side. Also, the conclusion by western analysts that Russia is using its energy weapon against Estonia by imposing an export blockade seems flawed and an example of mental bandwagoning among people prone to single factor explanations.

Public opinion in Russia about the Baltic states was forged from the disappointment of their determination to abandon the ailing Soviet empire. The Balts were considered part of the liberal and reform oriented forces in soviet society, why Russians felt betrayed by the Balts as Moscow perceivably strived towards the same political goals as the Balts were identified with. The realisation that the Baltics now were abroad took a long time for most Russians to come to terms with. That Russians had become subjects of a non-Slavic state in which they had to seek citizenship to enjoy the full rights of society was incomprehensible. That states like Kazakhstan might treat Russians badly was only to be expected, as they did not share the liberal heritage Russians associated with the Balts. A measure of double standards was thus introduced in comparing the situation of Russians in former soviet republics. As for the Baltics, Russians felt scorned in their identity as imperial civilisation carriers. An inferiority complex was thus the nucleus of the dispute over the situation of Russian "minorities" in the Baltic states.

As things have evolved in Russian-Estonian relations over the last month, the image conjured up by Russian media is that of Russians being wronged and bereft of their rights and heritage. The difference this time is that there are no countervailing forces in Moscow to keep too overt nationalist sentiments in check. Still, most analysts limit themselves to describe the conflict in either bilateral or Estonian terms, whereas Russian domestic factors are left out. This limits reporting to developments of the same Russian-Estonian themes covered over the last 15 years, and old articles might be taken out of the drawer to be rewritten or updated, simply filling in the new facts. In essence, however, they lack the proper contextualisation to explain why the conflict has taken a new turn for the worse. Action is not enough - as the removal of the Bronze Soldier and its consequences. Context must be added to analysis in order for us to understand the full extent of the problem.

Next year, Russia faces presidential elections. By all appearances it seems to be a runoff between Sergei Ivanov and Dmitri Medvedev. The power struggle in the Kremlin is however already underway, and who eventually will get the upper hand sways back and forth between the two main contenders. Half a year ago, Medvedev was in the lead, but now Ivanov has made a comeback and seems to be in the best position to become master of the Kremlin in 2008. In this context, Ivanov has used the Estonian crisis to gather his forces in front of a common foe. Opinions on Estonia are by now so deeply set that they may be used as a vehicle to gather the Russian masses. Previously, Russian leaders have known where to draw the line in using the "Baltic question" but now president Putin cannot put the foot down as too great interests are at stake, in who will rule Russian politics in coming years, to risk anything just to preserve a working relationship with Tallinn. As for relations with the European Union and Nato, Putin walks a thin line in risking a multilateralisation of the Estonian issue.

However, Medvedev is also not left out in gaining the dividends of the Estonian crisis. Last week, Sergei Ivanov, during a meeting with governors in Murmansk, declared that the Russian oil and coal previously exported by transit through Estonia will now instead go through the port of St. Petersburg. Russia annually ships around 25 million tonnes of fuel oil, gas oil and petrol through Estonian ports. Imposing a Russian energy blockade on Estonia is regarded by many analysts as a way for Moscow to use its energy weapon. Such a conclusion, however, seems flawed as Estonia is relatively spared of any major consequences for its energy supply. Instead, it may prove a way for major Russian oil exporters - mainly Rosneft - to curve export competition by other Russian oil companies.

Transferring exports to St. Petersburg will indirectly give Rosneft greater control over who will be able to export Russian oil. St. Petersburg port is already today gravely undersized - not to mention corrupt - and much effort has been made in recent years to construct new harbours in the Gulf of Finland - Primorsk for oil and Ust Luga for bulk. Opting for Petersburg therefore means that companies that previously have exported by way of Estonia now are at the mercy of Rosneft to meet their deliveries to western customers. In essence, the energy blockade against Estonia gives Medvedev's interests a way to hit at remaining independent competitors within the oil industry. Consequently, Ivanov reaps the political and Medvedev the economic rewards of the Estonian crisis.

So, should all explanations based on the actual situation in Estonia and relations with Russia be discarded? Of course not. However, it is equally important to analyse the conflict on its own merits as it is to contextualise it, striking a balance on the domestic-foreign frontier. An obvious example is the risk that the conflict may spread also to Latvia. Most observers would say that situations differ too much for something similar to happen in Riga, but still Latvian authorities are apprehensive. From both a political and economic perspective, Ivanov and Medvedev may gain from sparking a crisis also with Latvia for the very same reasons why they have let the crisis with Estonia get so much out of hand. There simply is too much to gain and too little to lose domestically at the moment, that a Russian-Latvian crisis should not be ruled out just because situations in Estonia and Latvia are not similar enough. Giving the crisis a Russian domestic political contextualisation shows this.

Still, is the Kremlin willing to risk its relations with the West - EU, Nato and the US - over such an insignificant issue as the Baltic question? Actually, such an assumption should not be ruled out. Already, Moscow is at loggerheads with Washington, and the US understands that it now has to be tough on Russia in order to have a working relationship. The European Union, however, takes a much weaker stand when it comes to Russia, and when it does confront Moscow it is on negotiation issues such as the Partnership and Cooperation Agreement (PCA) and the European Energy Charter. Until now, Russia has never had anything to lose in real terms in relations with the EU, and the Union consistently avoids putting its foot down in relations with Moscow. That Poland and other member states, in this context, may hamper EU-Russia negotiations is officially treated with resignation in Bruxelles, while most unofficially sigh with relief. Thus, Russia rationally calculates that the EU will never truly make a stand in their relations, why Moscow really risks nothing by a confrontational policy.

Developments in Russia are met with growing concern in Europe, and there is an understanding that sooner or later the European Union will have to confront the issue, as many of its members are already experiencing the realities of a more assertive Russia on the world stage. Doing so, however, sets out from, on the one hand, foreign relations and, on the other hand, Russia's domestic political situation. The latter is mainly directed at the crisis for democracy and human rights and far too seldom at the factors that Russian rulers themselves would deem of political importance. Foreign and domestic factors are increasingly treated as monolithic and attempts at joint analysis are often superficial or aim at the wrong factors.

The result is that it is becoming all the more of a mystery in the West why Russia acts as it does. The West is once again allowing Russia to become "a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma" for the evident reason that Europeans are too subsumed by their own values, norms, perceptions, and prejudice to follow the simple logics of current Russian politics and society. Then it is much easier to produce an image of a state that once more might pose a threat to Europe - an alien entity accepted by its mere existence but doomed to remain foreign to Europe. Here, the Russian-Estonian crisis serves as a striking example of how the West fails to account for important factors in its perceptions of Russia. As European public opinion turns increasingly against Russia, the risk of misperceptions may become an even greater danger than a revived Russian threat in the eyes of Europe. Russian motives are not always what they seem.

A Bursting Baltic Bubble?

Are the Baltic states facing an impending economic crisis? So seems to be the case, due to the current overheating of both Estonian and Latvian economies. Earlier this week, Standard & Poor's as well as Deutsche Bank warned that Latvia's economic imbalances might cause a currency devaluation. Estonia risks a similar fate in the runup to its 4 March parliamentary elections. Only Lithuania seems to be getting off scot free.

In January, Standard & Poor declared Latvia Europe's "most dynamic economy in 2007" with a GDP growth of 8.9%, and with neighbouring Estonia coming in second, with a 7.5% growth. Estonia and Latvia - along with Slovakia - are the fastest growing economies in Europe.

Growth, however, has a price. Both economies are facing an inflationary spiral with most economic indicators going wild. In the battle over customers, Latvian banks have lended money to consumers at an interest lower than the inflation rate, and Estonian banks have followed suit.

However, Latvia's problems are the most acute. Since January, economic growth has risen to 11%, by far exceeding the 6-7% that are long-term economically sustainable. High domestic demand and corporate investment rates add to the problems. The increase in imports - clearly over what the country exports - has also created a worryingly negative balance of trade.

As for the labour market, supply cannot meet demand as many Latvians work abroad. The annual wage-rises of an average 10% have so far been compensated by a corresponding growth in productivity, but this year the tendency is towards an impassable 20% rise.

What may really topple the economy, however, is the negative real interest rate combined with a high rate of public lending - largely in euro-loans. According to some sources, this has caused prices of real estate to double in recent years.

All in all, if Latvia were now to devalue its currency - the Lat - banks would be forced to compensate themselves by a drastic increase in interest rates. With loans largely in foreign currency, consumers would face acute solvency problems, potentially with a consequent crisis for the banking system. As it appears, recession seems to stand at the door.

So, what has the Latvian government done to curve inflation and battle economic overheating? Precious little, one must admit. Already last spring, Standard & Poor predicted several years' delay for Latvia's inclusion into the eurozone, postponing it for 2009-2010 at the earliest. Prognosis was based on sustained price growth, driven by demand and rising inflationary expectations. This, in itself, should have been a clear stop-sign for the Latvian government.

All the same, the Latvian economy is basically in good shape. The country's foreign debt is low and the state economy is under control. And, obviously, economy is booming. So, why waste a winning concept, seems to have been the reasoning of the government. Some measures have been made, but they have either failed or been dubious as for their effects.

Also, it is quite obvious that the government had had more reasons to be content. In October, the government coalition, led by conservative People's Party (Tautas Partija) leader Aigars Kalvītis, was the first to be re-elected since the country regained independence in 1991. No wonder the government had a laid back attitude to developments, wanting to enjoy its honeymoon with the voters as long as possible.

However, now the government has come to a rude awakening, as the situation has quickly gotten out of hand. The question is if it will dare to challenge the banking and financial sector, which - as in Estonia - belongs to its key support groups. It is questionable if the Kalvītis cabinet can rise to the challenge. In the meantime, the fear that the Baltic bubble bursts will linger on.

Anniversary of Anguish over Bronze Battle

This weekend past saw the first anniversary of the Estonian Bronze Soldier crisis - over the removal of a soviet WW II monument from central Tallinn. As the crisis evolved it ignited a bilateral quarrel between Tallinn and Moscow, in the end setting Russia and the European Union at loggerheads. As the first anniversary of the Bronze battle drew close, a certain extent of anguish and apprehension arose among Estonian authorities. What was to happen this time over? The simple answer was - next to nothing.

On Saturday, some 100 demonstrators gathered in a park in central Tallinn to commemorate last year's events, and to call for the resignation of the Estonian government led by Andrus Ansip. The event was peaceful and heavily monitored by police and the Estonian secret service (KAPO).

That the demonstration actually rallied less of a crowd than the number of people merely injured last year must be considered a fundamental failure for Russian "minority" interests in Estonia. Not least so as, just a few weeks ago, an organization to unite Russians in Estonia held its first congress. That Saturday's demonstration had such a poor showing may thus point to a waning significance of the Russian issue in Estonia. Or should perhaps alternative explanations be sought?

What evolved over a few weeks last spring was that the same methods used during the coloured revolutions in Serbia, Georgia, and the Ukraine, were now applied by Russians themselves. As the protest was reaching its crescendo, actions and debate were coordinated by sms, e-mail, and blogs targeting largely unprepared Estonian political leaders and authorities. The subsequent cyber attacks on Estonian web-servers proved the peak in efforts to paralyze society. Someone had obviously done his homework.

In terms of the Russian-speaking population of the Baltic States, Russia has long propagated that these "minorities" are consistently discriminated against, and has even ventured so far as to compare the situation with Apartheid. Last year's events also gave Moscow an opportunity to highlight the issue on the international scene. Although much of recent bravado has mysteriously evaporated, Russia has e.g. demanded an addendum on the Russian minorities in Estonia and Latvia in ongoing negotiations on a new Partnership and Cooperation Agreement with the European Union.

Still, much indicates that Moscow came out of the 2007 conflict with the EU on the wrong end of the stick - besides the PR-fiasco for Moscow's international image - why such demands are most likely to be ignored. Also, Russian policy towards the Baltic States since 1991 has largely proven a failure. Already in 1997, Russia's Council for Foreign and Defence Policy - an influential think-tank - in a report characterised Moscow's policy as counterproductive, if it intended to safeguard the interests of Russian "minorities".

It is far too seldom argued that what is not said and done may be as interesting as what actually is. So may be the case also here, although reporting on something that did not happen - as the Bronze battle anniversary - would hardly qualify as breaking news or of interest to a larger audience.

Turning to the case in point, the Bronze Soldier crisis has fundamentally been interpreted as an ethnic conflict. In fact, few issues are as politically sensitive as ethnic tension. Recent history has witnessed oppression and even genocide on minorities to an extent that has shocked world opinion. However, this also has made us prone to see far too many societal conflicts with ethnic lenses.

So, why did the anniversary of the Bronze Soldier crisis pass by next to unnoticed? May it be that there are alternative or complementary explanations to last year's turmoil than the ethnic angle? Before trying some hypotheses, it should be clearly stated that the removal of the Bronze Soldier from central Tallinn unequivocally was the igniting factor of the 2007 crisis. It is quite obvious that the Estonian government acted in haste and with poor judgement. Thus, they partly brought the crisis upon themselves.

Still, that does not explain the absence of protests a year after the so far largest protests by ehtnic Russians in post-soviet Estonia. The situation has not altered and the reasons for, arguably, Russian discontent with conditions in the country has not changed for the better - rather the opposite as a fact. Political forces traditionally safeguarding interests of Russians have partly been rendered obsolete. In socioeconomic terms, nothing has really happened, as illustrated in a report by Marju Lauristin last autumn.

So, except for Estonia's monumental mistake and obvious Russia-related explanations of lacking protests this year - the upcoming presidential installation on 7 May and last year's domestic need in Russia to rally around a cause - what might serve as alternative or complementary hypotheses for the difference between last year and now?

One reason largely unexplored is the transit of Russian goods and products through Estonia. Russia has long wanted to divert this trade to Russian harbours instead of having to pay the costs of transit. Furthermore, Kremlin-sponsored Russian companies had long been eager to out-compete those companies that controlled and profited from the Estonian transit trade. The same applied for control over export-harbours in Estonia. For most observers, it serves as no surprise to state that the transit trade involves enormous sums of money. One can only imagine how much by pointing to the fact that Estonia lost some 6,3 billion Estonian Kroonas in transit revenues due to a few weeks of Russian blockade.

Consequently, just a week or so before the April 2007 events, Russian vice Premier, Sergei Ivanov, held a speech in Murmansk, in which he propagated curbing transit trade and diverting Russian exports to ports in the Petersburg region and Gulf of Finland.

Negotiations for transit quotas and pricing on Russian goods by Estonian railway were to be held in May 2007. In 2006, the Estonian state re-nationalized Estonian Railway (Eesti Raudtee), why preconditions for influencing the outcome of negotiations had been altered to the detriment of Moscow's interests.

As for harbour facilities, the ports of Tallinn and Muuga represented around one-quarter of Russia's total refined-product exports, thus by far outweighing any Russian harbour. Control over harbours in Tallinn, Muuga and Sillamäe had long been coveted by Russian business interests. As previously reported, last year's crisis also saw a transfer of trade between these ports to the benefit of Russian interests.

Then, there is also the question of shipping. The crisis and the subsequent Russian trade blockade is said to have favoured shipping operations, controlled by Swiss-based Gunvor Group. Gunvor is owned by Swedish oil trader Torbjörn Törnqvist, with interests in e.g. Surgutneftegaz. In November last year, Russian political scientist Stanislav Belkovsky made allegations in the German newspaper die Welt that Putin had amassed a personal fortune of some 40 billion USD, and that part of this was held by a 50% share of the Gunvor Group.

Although these rumours and allegations cannot be corroborated, and in fact have been denied by most concerned parties - among others Törnqvist himself - one cannot but stop to wonder what role business with a Russian stake had in the 2007 Russian-Estonian crisis. The example of controlling the transportation system - railways, harbours, and shipping - of Russian exports by way of Estonian transit might thus arguably be one alternative or complementary explanation to why last year's Russian-Estonian crisis was allowed to escalate to the level it did.

Russia's imposition of a trade blockade on Estonia for a few weeks last year was a hard hit on the transit trade. The transport of Russian goods by rail, road, and boat was halted. The companies involved in this line of trade, were among the all too evident losers, and many of them were more or less put out of business - both Russian companies and Estonian with often large Russian ownership interests. These companies were not sponsored by the Kremlin. Instead, it appears that the blockade wiped out annoying competition, and that mightier Russian business interests moved in to take over the transit trade, once the blockade was lifted. Such methods would not be a novelty in Russian business practices and thus serve to surprise nobody. Big business in Russia regularly gets Kremlin's blessing to move in and wipe out competition in order to monopolise a market. The difference in what would arguably be the Estonian case, is that these practices were now applied on another state not in the CIS, but on a member of the European Union.

So, apart from speculations and conspiracy-theories that normally surround events such as the Bronze Soldier crisis, it would seem worthwhile to test such alternative or complementary hypotheses as accounted for above. Who stood to gain from a blockade halting transit trade, and who has actually done so? However, if proven right, such an argument would not only expose that the Kremlin serves its own interests, but also a blatant disregard by Russia for the interests of the Russian "minorities" in the Baltic States, because the greatest losers of the conflict would turn out to be the very same Russian minorities that Moscow claims to defend.

Consequently, it may actually have been the Russians in Estonia who lost most out of the Russian-Estonian conflict over the removal of the Bronze Soldier. Russians were hit by losing the revenues from transit trade, both in terms of profits and employment. Furhtermore, Russians were the ones who were most exposed by raising the issue of disloyalty to Estonian society as a whole. For any minority in any country, such cross-pressure may prove highly detrimental to their future prospects of finding a place in society in social, economic and political terms, and still Moscow decided it was worth to run this risk.

Perhaps, in the end it is safest not to test such hypotheses as forwarded above, because - if validated - they would bring the perceived cynicism of Russian leaders to new and even higher levels. Moscow's indignation and heavy hand towards Estonia was officially motivated by the public outcry among Russians over the removal of the Bronze soldier. General opinion held that Moscow now finally had to step in to protect the Russian "minority" in Estonia. In stark contrast to this official policy, a proven transit trade hypothesis would - to the opposite - paint a picture of Russians abandoned by Russia and their cause sacrificed for the sake of petty business interests. One cannot help but wonder what the Russians who took to the streets in both Tallinn and Moscow in protest against "fascist Estonia" would think if confronted by proof to that effect. In the meantime, such hypotheses are, of course, just a fidget of one's imagination - or are they?

Was M/S Estonia sunk by an explosion?

A new Swedish-German expert group on the 1994 M/S Estonia catastrophe does not exclude an explosion as cause of the shipwreck. Such a conclusion has so far been ruled out by all other investigations, but few explanations have been given for the fast course of events when the ship went down.

On the evening of 27 September 1994, the Estline ferry M/S Estonia left Tallinn heading for Stockholm, with 989 people on board. Around midnight, the ship came into difficulties and at 00:23 hours sent out a distress call to ships in the vicinity. Exactly what happened after M/S Estonia's mayday is still in dispute, but the ship went down within the ensuing 20 minutes, taking with it 852 lives. It was by far the biggest ferry catastrophe ever in the Baltic Sea during peacetime.

The catastrophe occurred little over a month after the last Russian troops had left Estonian soil. It thus came at an inconvenient moment for Estonia, as the country had just regained full sovereignty over its territory. Consequently, the stage was set for widespread speculations and conspiracy theories. Despite the fact that numerous investigations, reports, and commissions of inquiry have concluded that there was no foul play, such theories still linger on. One of the most widespread speculations is that the Russian secret services would have placed a bomb on board, due to alleged smuggling of Russian military equipment by the Swedish military intelligence service. The Swedish military service has later admitted that it transported such equipment on M/S Estonia, but claims that so was not the case at this specific time.

Then, why did M/S Estonia sink? Most analysts agree that the main cause of the catastrophe was that the bow visor of Estonia was torn off by hard waves, causing also the front ramp of the ship to come loose. The immediate effect was that the sea flowed directly onto the car deck of the ferry, causing it to capsize within the course of less than half an hour.

What the new expert group, commissioned by the Swedish government, will do is to review various alternatives to explain why water penetrated the ship so quickly. The assumption remains that the main reason was the loss of the bow visor, but researchers will also scrutinise complementary explanations. One is that a hole would have been ripped open in the hull of the ship due to an explosion, which several survivors claim to have heard. However, no hole has so far been found to account for such a theory. Additional theories is that ventilation shafts would have facilitated the flow of water through the ship, and another that it came in by crushed windows. All in all, the research group will analyse eight additional or complementary scenarios causing the catastrophe.

So, should this news lead us to assume that there was foul play in the Estonia catastrophe? Most probably not. The only thing this research group will do, is really to go over all evidence again without prejudice and thereby include any possible hypothesis. It is not very likely that they will reach any other conclusion than has previously been made. Still, the Estonia catastrophe remains a national trauma in both Estonia and Sweden, so it is understandable that no stone will be left unturned in trying to wholly explain the shipwreck. An Estonian report was issued only in March this year, and the new Swedish-German expert group will probably not be the last to look into the matter.

What is perhaps the most tragic thing about continuously new reports about the Estonia catastrophe is that the families and relatives of the victims are never really allowed to put the issue at rest. After nearly 13 years, rumours are still at sway about what really happened, regardless of all inquiries and reports. Given the evidence produced so far, it is highly unlikely that M/S Estonia was sunk by an explosion. Still, also among the families there are many that will never learn to accept what happened and are trying to find explanations that simply might not exist. Paradoxically, not being able to put a thing like Estonia behind oneself is part and parcel of the tragedy itself, so the future will probably hold a stream of reports gradually turning into a trickle, as the people affected by Estonia gradually pass away. For today and the future, this is the greatest tragedy.

Горькая чаша?

During his recent visit to Sweden, Russian Foreign Minister, Sergey Lavrov, was obliged to drink a cup of malice, literally and in terms of Russian foreign policy implementation. Attending a dinner of CBSS-ministers, the wine on the menu was Georgian. It thus seems that Lavrov took this opportunity to enjoy something banned in Russia, in a parallel to US politicians smoking Cuban cigars.

The source is none other than Swedish Foreign Minister, Carl Bildt, who mentions this on his blog. Apparently, Georgian wine was served for dinner during a boat trip with foreign ministers of the Baltic Sea region, within the context of the CBSS. What Lavrov thought about this, Bildt does not tell, but at least the Swedish schnapps was a hit.

The Swedish wine monopoly, Systembolaget, recently introduced its first Georgian wine - a 2005 Teliani Valley Saperavi, which evidently was the wine enjoyed by the Russian foreign minister. The Saperavi grape is the most common in Georgian wines, which is used for brands like Kindzmarauli and Mukuzani from the Kakheti region of Eastern Georgia. The Saperavi grape - often associated with one-year wines - is sweet in taste and often produces high alcohol levels. Besides Georgia, Saperavi is also nowadays to be found in Australian vineyards. Except the Saperavi, other popular grape varieties in Georgian wines are Alexandrouli and Mudzhuretuli, to be found in the famous Khvanchkara wines of Western Georgia.

Which type of Georgian wine Lavrov prefers is unknown, but it is safe to say that he did not - as generations of Russians - venture into any deeper discussion about the qualities of various Georgian wines. Probably he was wise not to, as some Stockholm malice might be better than Moscow's bitter cup, would it be known of Lavrov's wine consumption when abroad.

Yeltsin: Selling out Russia

Now it is official what everyone in the business has known for the last 15 years. Back in 1991, Boris Yeltsin offered Finland to buy back Karelia - lost to the Soviet Union in WW II. This public secret has now been "revealed" by Finnish paper Kainuun Sanomat, which breaks a silent understanding in Finnish establishment of suppressing public debate on relations with Russia.

In late December 1991, the Soviet Union awaited its final dissolution. Earlier in the month, the Belovezha agreement had effectively torpedoed the USSR, and republic after republic ceded from the Union. On 25 December, president Gorbachev resigned, and by New Year the red flag was lowered from the pinnacles of the Kremlin. In its place, the Russian tricolor was hoisted, signalling a Russia of uncertainty. As a new nation, Russia was in dire need of recognition as a sovereign and successor state of the Soviet Union. Furthermore, its economy was in free fall, with food shortages and an industry in total disarray. In both respects, Russia needed to become a player on the new world stage.

All this is well-known history now, but still serves to contextualise the situation when Yeltsin - allegedly - offered the return of Karelia in exchange for much needed money. On an ideological level, Russia's new leadership needed to part with the past and the injustices of history to build a new nation. Yeltsin had thus previously supported the independence of the Baltic states, partly out of personal conviction, and partly to further undermine Gorbachev's position. There was also a liberalising belief that one way out of the problems was by local and individual initiatives. Thus, in June 1991, Yeltsin had urged Russia's regions to take as much sovereignty as they could digest. Also, a similar offer was made to Japan for the return of the Kurile islands, which the Soviet Union had conquered in 1945. The offer to Japan was still on the table until May 1993, when Yeltsin cancelled a visit to Japan for further talks on the issue, whereafter no mention has been made on it from the Russian side.

According to Kainuun Sanomat, in response to the Russian offer, Finnish president Mauno Koivisto appointed a secret group to analyse the costs for regaining Karelia. An initial cost of reconstruction was estimated to 13 billion euro, but subsequently the price tag increased to 71 billion euro. Obviously, this was too high a price to pay for Karelia, and - even though Russia repeatedly reiterated the offer during spring 1992 - president Koivisto in the end told Yeltsin in July 1992 that "Finland cannot afford Karelia."

Obviously, there were also security policy considerations, as the return of Karelia would bring Finland within sight of St. Petersburg - a problem that Russia historically had taken issue with. Also, Finnish public opinion seemed ambivalent or straightout negative to the idea, so it might have proven politically hazardous to raise the issue publicly. Still, regaining Karelia was publicly discussed in Finland at the time, even though few may actually have realised that there was a concrete offer on the table. Then, the main proponents for the this cause were nationalist Karelian exile organisations, which only served to make the generation having lived through the war increasingly apprehensive. The price in human lives and suffering had been too high to once more risk the chance of having Finland's great neighbour too close at hand. The price once paid by the loss of Karelia - 10% of Finnish territory and 400,000 refugees - was simply too high to risk its reiteration in the future. A final reason why the Russian offer was turned down might have been an impending economic crisis - partly due to the total loss of trade with Russia after soviet demise - bringing mass unemployment to Finland.

So, how has the Finnish establishment reacted to these news? Well, denial seems to be the word of the day in Helsinki. Despite the fact that Koivisto on numerous occasions has both said and written things, strongly supporting that there actually was a Russian offer, he simply states through his secretary that these news "do not feel familiar." Also, most high-ranking politicians and diplomats of those days vehemently deny anything of the sort of a Russian offer to return Karelia. It is more than obvious that official Finland now closes it ranks in face of an alternative to official history.

Why the Karelia affaire is disclosed right now is unclear. Ever since 1991, information about the Russian offer has been covered by media and documentaries, although often more as a footnote than as the main story. The difference this time over though, seems to be that now there may be detailed information exactly about how the entire affaire was handled. Another motive may be that some Finnish interests now want to discredit the last moral justifications for Finland's post-war appeasement policy in relation to the Soviet Union. With an increasingly menacing Russia at its borders, and a debate on Finnish accession to NATO out in the cold, this may prove an opportunity for NATO-adherents to undermine proponents of more accomodating relations with Russia, in contrast to what would be the result of Finnish NATO-membership.

So, why these massive denials. If there was a Russian offer on the table - as much now indicates - it seems the only decent and sound decision would nevertheless have been to turn it down. Opting for status quo instead of staggering costs in a dire and uncertain economic situation in addition to the great uncertainties of how a future Russia would develop, seems the most secure and responsible decision to make. If so, president Koivisto would once more have risen to the task of being a statesman of the best Finnish tradition.

Still, memory is short, and presuming that the public in retrospect would be able to correctly assess the situation in the early 1990s is perhaps too much to ask for. Therefore, what is at stake is the reputation and historical verdict of an entire generation of politicians in Finland, which only serves as a driving-force to making the Karelia affaire into a true scandal. Perhaps, the right thing to do - instead of continued denial - would simply be to proudly confess that this was the only responsible thing to do given the historical circumstances. This would though not be in line with Finnish tradition, which perhaps is the reason why it is good that this affaire now comes out into the open. As Russia is returning to the past it parted with in 1991, Finland may need to part with a past it never totally left behind. As long as this is not the case, Finland will continue to walk a thin line in its relations with Russia.

Finally, as for Yeltsin's part in the Karelia affaire, most Russians would today claim this as further evidence that he sold out Russia. Yeltsin's sense of a historical role and obligation to part with and try to make good for the crimes of communism is something current Russia wants to forget. Paradoxically, exactly this morale and courage of the early Yeltsin, to stand up for his beliefs in a democratic and just Russia, is what he will go down in history for. To this should also be added Yeltsin's attempts to put Finlandisation behind in relations between Moscow and Helsinki.