Russia is trying to unsettle the Baltic states—oddly, Ukrainians are helping
Latvia’s foreign minister could not have been blunter on Polish television: Ukrainian intelligence sources are simply wrong when they say Russia is planning to occupy the Baltic states by 2027, Baiba Braže told the TVP host, Aaron Dahme. He looked surprised: given their history, outlook and strategic alignment, most outsiders would assume that the Baltics and the Ukrainians would have a common threat assessment. “I have no idea why Ukrainian officials would say something like that. It’s just not true,” she said.
Recent events offer clues to the source of this doom-laden canard. The “Narva People’s Republic” movement is supposedly campaigning for autonomy, or more, for Estonia’s north-eastern border city. In Dmitri Medvedev’s latest post on social media, Vladimir Putin’s glove puppet insulted former Estonian prime minister (now EU diplomacy chief) Kaja Kallas, reminding the world that Estonia, like eastern Ukraine used to be “Russia”. Stray drones— probably Ukrainian—entered Estonian, Latvian and now Finnish airspace. One crashed (harmlessly) into a power-station chimney, prompting a wry response from an Estonian apologising that the obstacle had prevented the drone hitting its target, presumably Russia’s Ust-Luga port (other drones have done heavy damage there). Now Russia is claiming that the Baltic states “opened” their territory for Ukrainian strikes.
Ukrainians on social media, echoing Kyiv officialdom, gleefully add their doom-laden warnings. The message is about the Baltics, but not to them. It is to all Europe. If you do not help us beat Russia now, war is coming to you soon. Western media outlets ring the doom-bell too. But the logic is as flawed as the tone is patronising.
As Braže noted, Russia, already struggling in Ukraine, lacks the capability to attack Nato. Moreover, the Baltic states now quite unlike Ukraine in 2022 (or in 2014). Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania are alert, well-prepared and tightly integrated into international alliances. The risk for Russia of an attack is colossal: Nato’s new defence plans involve striking hard and deep into Russian territory (Kaliningrad is a prime target). Of course, nobody should be complacent (the Baltic defence ministers have just urged Europe to boost anti-drone defences). But allies should not depict small countries as defenceless pawns in a big-country game; that is what Russia does.
The real problem for the Baltics is not an unlikely military attack in the future, but the divide-and-rule information operation going on right now, as highlighted by Latvia’s defence ministry. It combines real-world events (the drones) and invented stunts (Narva), with injected content and amplification, not least through supposedly anti-Kremlin (actually phoney-patriotic) social media accounts. The Polish security expert Łukasz Olejnik writes, “the objective here is not to win an argument, because there is no argument. It is to erode trust in institutions. It doesn’t need to convince majorities—working the margins is enough.” The targets include segments of the domestic audience (perhaps those already alienated or fearful) as well as foreign audiences.
I fear that more plot twists lie ahead. Suppose Russia says it is imposing a no-fly zone along its western border unless its neighbours stop providing transit for Ukrainian drones? The demand is impossible. These countries cannot stop what they are not doing. And if Russia dislikes being attacked, it should stop invading other countries. But open-minded observers, meaning those so open-minded that their brains fall out, may think that such demands merit negotiation.
Finland already has the right idea, balancing comprehensive security—vigilance, resilience, cohesion, readiness and deterrence—with strategic silence (coldly ignoring Russia’s stunts, lies and tantrums). The Baltics can do that too. But it does not help when excitable friends, however well-meaning, give bad advice.