Last weekend's large-scale
riots in Estonia in which one demonstrator was killed, over 100
people were injured, and more than 1,000 detained in response to
the government's decision to remove a Soviet-era monument commemorating
the victory of the Red Army over Nazi Germany from downtown Tallinn
to a remote location, were hardly surprising.
Anyone who has followed the manner in which the history of WWII
and the Holocaust and their aftermath have been treated in the
Baltic republic is well aware that the controversy over the monument
is merely the tip of the iceberg, a metaphor for a much more fundamental
struggle over its recent history.
Ever since Estonia regained independence in 1991, the country's
occupation by the Soviets in 1940-1941 and for more than four decades
after World War II, and by the Nazis during 1941-1944, has been
the subject of bitter debate between the Estonian majority and
the country's ethnic minorities - Russians and Jews. While the
former, for obvious reasons, prefer to emphasize their suffering
under Soviet rule and the role played by Russians and Jews in Communist
crimes, while ignoring or minimizing Estonian collaboration with
the Nazis, the latter continue to view the victory of the Red Army
in Estonia and the end of the Nazi occupation as liberation and
salvation.
It is important to remember that in Estonia (as well as throughout
post-Communist Europe), this debate has numerous practical implications
that have deepened the rift between the sides over the years.
One of the most obvious concerns the prosecution of those responsible
for the crimes committed under the occupations. For example, the
Estonian judicial authorities have invested much effort in prosecuting
Communist criminals, mostly Russians, at least 10 of whom have
already been convicted in Estonia. The same cannot be said, however,
of the investigations carried out regarding Estonians who collaborated
with the Nazis in the crimes of the Holocaust.
Not a single Estonian citizen who participated in the persecution
and/or murder of Jews during WWII has been brought to trial by
the Estonians, despite the existence of abundant incriminatory
evidence in at least two cases submitted in recent years.
The lack of political will in Tallinn to prosecute Holocaust perpetrators
is clearly evident in public pronouncements by officials such as
former state prosecutor Heino Tonismagi, who in announcing his
late 2005 decision not to take legal action against Estonian Political
Police operative Harry Mannil, who participated in the arrests
in 1941 of Jews and Communists subsequently executed by his colleagues,
claimed that Estonians could not have been involved in any Nazi
war crimes since the country was occupied at the time, an assertion
that ignores the active participation of numerous Estonians in
WWII era crimes and the support of much of the local population
for the Nazi occupation. (There was no anti-Nazi underground or
resistance movement of any kind in Estonia.)
Local efforts to encourage Holocaust commemoration and education
in Estonia lag far behind those of most European countries, a factor
clearly reflected in the belated decision to observe January 27,
the anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz, as a memorial day.
The fact that no Estonian Jews were deported to that death camp
made the choice more palatable to the Estonian public, the overwhelming
majority of whom (93 percent according to an opinion poll in the
Eesti Paevaleht daily) opposed the establishment of such a day.
The widely-divergent views on the most important events in recent
Estonian history are a key factor in the tense interethnic relations
in the country. If we add the deep-seated feelings of discrimination
in employment and education shared by most of the Russian minority,
who constitute a third of the population and are viewed as occupiers
by many Estonians, it is obvious why the decision to remove the
statue of a Red Army soldier from the center of Tallinn sparked
the worst riots in Estonia's recent history.
Prime Minister Andrus Ansip's government was clearly playing to
nationalist sentiment by moving the monument, but in the eyes of
those ethnic groups who were saved by the Red Army, such a step
bordered on the sacrilegious, and reinforced the local Russians'
sense of marginality in Estonian society, making the current clashes
inevitable.
jpost.com
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