Estonia has learned lessons from Ukraine, where pro-Russian activists in Donetsk and Luhansk ended up creating separatist republics. “This is what we want to avoid,” Taro says. “They are preparing the ground – in the information field and at all levels – but we have measures to stop them.” He adds: “We have trained for every scenario… even for this bridge.”
Recent violations of European airspace by Russian fighter jets and drones have raised fears that Moscow is testing the readiness of NATO’s air defenses. But on Estonia’s eastern border, where the city of Narva – with a population that is 98% Russian-speaking – is located, local elections and plans to build a new military base have created a climate of uncertainty and fear. It was perhaps inevitable that a proposal to build a military base on the outskirts of Narva, Estonia’s third-largest city and directly on the border with Russia, would become the subject of a televised debate between mayoral candidates. Just a few days earlier, three Russian MiG-31 jets had entered and remained in Estonian airspace over the Gulf of Finland for 12 minutes, forcing the Tallinn government to request a consultation of NATO’s Article 4, which provides for a response when the territorial integrity or political independence of a member state is threatened.
Estonia also raised the issue at the UN Security Council in New York, where Western allies warned of serious consequences for any further violations. Donald Trump signaled his support for shooting down Russian planes if the incident were repeated. The tense geopolitical climate was further exacerbated by a series of unidentified drones flying over Danish airports, forcing the closure of the country’s largest airport, in Copenhagen. This followed similar incidents involving Russian drones in Poland and Romania. “This is just the beginning of a hybrid war against Europe,” Danish Prime Minister Mette Frederiksen declared in an address to the nation.
A CITY ON THE EDGE OF NERVES
One might think that a military base in Narva, separated from Russia by only a 101-meter-wide river, would be welcomed with enthusiasm. But the reality is much more complicated. The river is spanned by the “Friendship Bridge,” over which the Estonians have erected concrete anti-tank barriers and are building a heavy security gate. But Narva, which is closer to St. Petersburg than Tallinn, is a place of mixed identity. 98% of the population speaks Russian, and many watch Russian television channels, even though they are banned in Estonia. According to the Kremlin, the air raid “never happened”; the “Nazis in Tallinn,” as Russian propaganda calls them, are the ones who “do what the global war party does.”
Others in Narva understand that this is fake news, but are still afraid to “tease the Russian bear.” Many say that Estonian troops are welcome, but not NATO soldiers. The mayoral candidates in the debate acknowledged that the base is already a decision made, but criticized the way it was communicated, seeing it as a source of fear, not security, for the city’s 53 residents.
A TEST FOR NATO AND FOR THE BALTIC ITSELF
The airspace violations and Russia’s alleged involvement in the drone strikes are a test for NATO, but also for the cohesion of the Baltic states themselves, where Russian-speaking communities are large and often vulnerable to Russian propaganda. With local elections looming, the situation in Estonia is “full of danger,” says Katri Raik, a former interior minister and current mayor of Narva. She describes the city as poor and neglected, hit hard by the closure of oil shale mines, and for decades forgotten by the central government. “It was okay for us, because we felt like an island,” she says. “But now the state has come much closer to us.”
After the Russian invasion of Ukraine, the Estonian government ordered the removal of around 400 Soviet monuments, which it said commemorated the invasion, not the liberation of the country.
The most controversial was the removal of a Soviet tank at the entrance to Narva, which sparked strong protests. Raik – one of only 2% of residents whose mother tongue is Estonian – received death threats after he tried to mediate between the government and citizens. In addition, the closure of the Friendship Bridge to vehicles and goods – now only pedestrians can cross – has been an economic blow. Although the Russians closed it first, the new control rules on the Estonian side have created long queues and resentment.
FORBIDDEN LANGUAGE, RELIGION AND CHOICES
The Estonian government has been accused of “suppressing religious freedom” after it began separating the Russian Orthodox Church in Estonia from the Moscow Patriarchate, which is seen as closely linked to the Kremlin. Another law calls for Russian-language schools to be closed by 2030, forcing instruction only in Estonian – a move that has angered families who speak Russian at home. In addition, non-EU citizens, including Russians and Belarusians living in Estonia, have been banned from voting. “A third of the people in Narva will not be able to vote,” says Raik. “This is a gift to the populists.”
WHEN CULTURE BECOME A WAR FRONT
Maria Smorzevskihh-Smirnova, the director of the Narva Museum, is another figure caught up in this spiral of tension. She was sentenced in absentia to 10 years in prison in Russia after she put up a poster on the walls of the museum’s castle calling Vladimir Putin a war criminal, comparing him to Hitler. Her message was aimed at the crowds celebrating Victory Day (the Soviet Union’s victory over Nazi Germany) on May 9 across the river in the Russian town of Ivangorod, where giant screens with images of Putin and war films are shown.
“It is a cult of war and death, a glorification of the occupation of Ukraine,” she said. After her act, she faced death threats online: “We will kill you, we know where you live, we know where you walk.” But she added: “Are we going to be silent forever? No.”
THE DAILY BORDER WAR
The head of Estonia’s border police, Egert Belitsev, describes Narva as a zone of constant provocations: surveillance balloons appearing unexpectedly, refugees being pushed over the bridge by Russian guards, GPS jamming that hampers rescue operations. “All this is done to see how we react, how far we are willing to go, what we can do,” he says. Every reaction by the Estonian authorities is portrayed by Russian propaganda as militaristic aggression and an attack on the rights of Russian speakers in Narva. Even Putin himself, in 2022, said that “it would be justifiable to take Narva to defend it.” So the fear that “little green men” – Russian soldiers without official uniforms, as in Crimea – might appear is no longer entirely imaginary.
TALLINN’S ANSWER
Estonia’s Interior Minister, Igor Taro, a former journalist, is responsible for border policy and frequently visits Narva. He says every government decision has had its reasons: Russian-language schools deepened ethnic divisions. Soviet monuments were symbols of occupation. And voting by citizens of the aggressor state was no longer acceptable or safe. But he acknowledges that the risk is real. Last week, a Narva resident was convicted of spying for the Russian FSB, dating back to 2017. “He was an ordinary person, very sociable, who could gather information from many people,” Taro said.
Estonia has learned lessons from Ukraine, where pro-Russian activists in Donetsk and Luhansk ended up creating separatist republics. “That’s what we want to avoid,” he says. “They are preparing the ground – in the information field and at all levels – but we have measures to stop them.” He adds: “We have trained for every scenario… even for this bridge.”
WHAT HYBRID WAR IS IGNORING EUROPE?
Hybrid warfare is a military strategy that uses unconventional means of warfare, including political, psychological, economic weapons, as well as sabotage, disinformation and cyberattacks. The main goal is to increase tension in order to achieve objectives without necessarily having to fire a single bullet. “Ghost” drones and real or alleged violations of European airspace by Russian fighter jets are part of this hybrid warfare, which aims to put pressure on “enemy” governments and influence public opinion. It is no coincidence that the “architect” of this hybrid warfare is General Valery Gerasimov, the chief of the Russian General Staff.
However, this unconventional conflict can also include false flag operations attributed to the adversary. In this context, the “weapon” of migrants has also been used, driving flows towards Western Europe, particularly through Belarus.
Each operation is part of a broader disinformation plan, spread through social media, influencers, and fake news, with the aim of changing public perception in favor of the aggressor. This war is waged in parallel with the real conflict and is called cognitive war – a war that, for example, Israel has lost internationally, even though it has won on the battlefield over a mountain of casualties in Gaza. Sabotage and cyberattacks are active parts of hybrid warfare, with two main objectives: to strike strategic infrastructure and to cause a psychological impact that weakens the adversary, or even incites the population against it. (The Guardian)
