The situation was not dissimilar to a reverse chicken game—governments of small republics looking each other in the eye, thinking about the same thing: liberation after so many years. However, everybody dared the other to move, before they themselves did. It all happened in the Soviet Union in early 1990. Ultimately, a small Baltic republic stepped up, precisely 35 years ago, on 11 March 1990, declaring the restoration of its independence. As the dust settled after the chain of events triggered by this, the Soviet Union fell, and the present-day region, as we know it, was born. But how did this happen, and why is this story about Lithuania and a well-known proverb?
Some regions, by virtue of their strategic importance, location, or political force, have geopolitical importance beyond the quantifiable hard and soft power they emit. These regions are oftentimes positioned on borderlands of civilizations or empires. The Baltic is one such region, at least since the 18th century. When it came under Russian rule—after a brutal invasion during the Great Northern War in the early 18th century, in which thousands of locals were taken away to slavery deep into Russia—, the West, for the first time, paid real attention to and started counting in Russia as a newly arrived player in European power balance. Before that, she was regarded as an afterthought in the eclectic set of conflicts at the edge of Western civilization. After that, she was considered a great power.
‘It was not clear that among the vast territories Russia would subjugate by the start of the 20th century, the small provinces of the Baltic would cause the gravest problems’
It was not clear that among the vast territories Russia would subjugate by the start of the 20th century, the small provinces of the Baltic would cause the gravest problems. Russians needed to pay more attention to Central Asia, the Caucasus, and even Poland than these small provinces. The ‘foot in the door’ that was relevant in 1990, though, was already stuck after the First World War. By the end of the war, Germans had occupied the region with the ignominious defeat of Russia. The Russians couldn’t regain control after that, even when the Germans left after the war, because by then the small countries had declared independence, gathered outside supporters, and raised formidable armies. The new republics became internationally recognized, stable states. And they never actually lost that again.
The Baltic republics were occupied during the summer of 1940 by the Soviets, when the affairs of East–Central Europe were still governed primarily under the framework of the Molotov–Ribbentrop Pact between the Soviets and the Germans. This meant that the Western allies were not then allied to the Soviets, but were actually enemies. They thus kept the ships of the Baltic countries in their ports, froze their assets instead of turning them over to the Soviets, and never recognized de jure the occupation of the republics. Naturally, England and the USA then allied with the Soviets after Hitler invaded the latter throughout the summer, and they silently approved the pre-1941 territorial gains of the Soviets, including the Baltics. Nevertheless, they never signed these rights away, and the physical assets themselves (Baltic possessions) remained in their hold.
Of course, this was far from enough. For more than 40 years after the Soviet reconquest of the Baltic in 1944–45, the republics lay hidden behind the Iron Curtain in Moscow’s corner, and Western attempts to liberate them were out of the question.
Deeply patriotic and daring people were needed to give their first kick to a door that had long been thought to be closed, with the key thrown away. Lithuania, like others, was fighting on during the Soviet occupation. Until 1953, quite literally, when Lithuanian armed groups—the Forest Brothers—were fighting KGB and loyalist Lithuanian forces from their rural bases. Among many other things, this resulted in a lighter Russian immigration than other Baltic countries because of the instability. Lithuanians kept their religion, cultural, and folk values as well and waited for another day to rise.
‘Deeply patriotic and daring people were needed to give their first kick to a door that had long been thought to be closed, with the key thrown away’
This came in the 1980s. The perestroika and glasnosty of Mikhail Gorbachev opened up a way to express national interests much more forcefully. The Baltic peoples started to edge toward independence, but were constantly wary of a potential Soviet crackdown.
The situation, however, changed overnight when Lithuania stepped up and charged at the bear exactly 35 years ago today. The small nation, led by the patriotic alliance of the Sajūdis (Movement) of Vytautas Landsbergis after the legislative elections of February 1990, declared its total independence on 11 March 1990. The step was widely seen as foolhardy then. The Lithuanian Supreme Council was reportedly filled with existential dread before the final vote, understandably in the shadow of the colossal Soviet Army. The West felt that Lithuania ruined its nice game with the Soviets. Mikhail Gorbachev was widely seen as an ideal partner to make a new understanding between Moscow’s empire and the Western states. The small, freedom-loving nation was seen as an unwanted nuance that could paint Gorbachev as weak, awakening the orthodox Communist opposition against him, and thus upend the global geopolitical thaw.
Still, the Lithuanians went forward, and there was no turning back. The reverse chicken game ended. Everybody started to move around slowly. In a couple of weeks, the Latvians and the Estonians declared that they were ‘starting the transition’ into full independence. The Westerners were sending warnings to Moscow not to start another bloody crackdown, like the one in Azerbaijan in January 1990. And Moscow, in its customary style, started to test just how thick the Lithuanian skull was. Soviet paratroopers invaded government buildings. An economic blockade was inaugurated. Lithuania was forced to declare a moratorium of its de facto independence in June 1990. The climax arrived on 13 January 1991, when Soviet troops moved to occupy the TV station of Vilnius. In the clashes, a dozen heroic Lithuanian civilians gave their lives, shot by Soviet bullets, and trampled under the tracks of the armoured vehicles. The Soviets were shocked by the courage of these people. Not in a symbolic way: they very mundanely feared for their life and calculated how the lifeless bodies of young Lithuanians would look to Western audiences. Without the West’s constant loans and food supplies, the supposedly mighty and undefeated giant couldn’t last long. Ultimately, Lithuania was not delivered the killing blow.
The Balts thus remained a thorn in the side, edging toward their real independence in 1991, while we Hungarians already enjoyed ours. They were consequently in the best starting position when the gate finally opened. On 19 August Soviet hardliners launched their counter-revolution, which faltered quickly. The Soviet Union lost its last vestiges of legitimacy. The Baltic nations immediately declared that they considered every tie null and void to the imperial centre. Seeing their dogged insistence and the legal situation, that is, that their recognition had never been annulled since 1921–1922, the West recognized them as independent nations.
‘Without the West’s constant loans and food supplies, the supposedly mighty and undefeated giant couldn’t last long’
And so the last round was played in the history of the Soviet Union. It was just the question of who would turn down the lights. The Baltic nations themselves were out. And so it began. Moscow wanted to renegotiate a ‘new’ and reformed Soviet Union. But, as Serhii Plokhy tells us in his authoritative work, everybody was seeing the blaring fact that it was possible to leave the Soviet Union. First and foremost, the Ukraine of Leonid Kravchuk was considering an independence vote, which was carried out on 1 December 1991.
Without the Balts, there was no real argument for denying other republics the right to exit. Without Ukraine, there was no basis for a Slavic-majority Soviet Union. After a couple of rounds of confused negotiations Moscow simply retreated, and left its imperial project for the time being. The Soviet Union dissolved on 25 December 1991, leaving behind only the Commonwealth of Independent States as an economic-political cooperation framework of the post-Soviet era. All because of some small republics playing world politics right, which brings us back to the proverb:
For want of a nail, the shoe was lost;
For want of a shoe, the horse was lost;
For want of a horse, the battle was lost;
For the failure of battle, the kingdom was lost;
All for the want of a horseshoe nail.
The Soviets lost their horse-shoe nail with the restoration of Lithuanian independence. The dogged resistance of the Baltic nations against a restoration of Soviet rule in turn gave a precedent to other peoples aspiring to be free.
The restoration of Lithuanian independence on this day so many years ago teaches us that our geopolitical peace and stability here in Central and Eastern Europe, which my generation takes for granted, was borne out of high-stakes struggles that pushed back the imperial reach of Moscow way beyond its 18th-century borders. It is a heroic history that not just happened over our heads, but was fought and died for in several parts of East–Central Europe, and which shows us the origins of our present-day reality. In a broader sense, it also warns that the empires of every historical age, which divide their spoils and bargain for the fate of the small peoples of Central and Eastern Europe, must be careful not to leave out of their calculations the aspirations and hopes of these same peoples, lest at an opportune moment they should be the ones to destroy the empire’s plans.
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