The fall of the USSR left a trail of chronic instability in many countries of the Soviet bloc, resulting from a violent collapse due to Gorbachov’s failed reforms, the secret Belavezha Treaty, and the acquisition of national sovereignty that still exists within the testimonial international organization CIS (Commonwealth of Independent States).

In the Baltic region, the situation was no better. The “model transition” quickly led Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania to reclaim their independent past, even during their last phase as satellite states of the Third Reich, and they labeled the Soviet arrival as an invasion by “Asians” (as they refer to Russians).

Indeed, in their political speeches, “Eastern Europe” has come to mean Belarus and Russia, while the rest of the countries of the former Soviet Union in Europe are now called “Central Europe” (such as Poland, Czech Republic, Slovenia, Hungary, or Slovakia), and Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania are now termed “Baltic countries.” In fact, in 1999, Estonia was even attempted to be redefined as a Nordic country by Toomas Hendrik Ilves, who served as President of Estonia from 2006 to 2016.

The policy in the 1990s, when these countries rapidly gained independence, was to consolidate a nation-state with an ethnocultural and linguistic mold that was clearly harmful to Russian citizens, who suddenly saw their capital no longer as Moscow but as Tallinn, Riga, or Vilnius. These governments, with a strong ethnic-nationalist component, did not see them as equals but as invader descendants or as dangerous old communists — in short, they lived under a hostile government.

Estonia, a special case

The primary goal of nationalist groups, identified as anti-communist and anti-Russian, was to distance themselves as quickly as possible from Moscow and strengthen their borders against a potentially aggressive Russia. The harsh years of the 1990s, under Yeltsin’s rule — including the liberalization (or hijacking) of the post-Soviet economy by oligarchs, the attempts at power, the disbandment of intelligence services, the design of modern services, the Chechen war, the Caucasus issue, and the risk of secession in Tatarstan — gave nationalists time to strengthen.

The Baltic countries, along with the rest of the former USSR, including Stanislav Shushkevich’s Belarus — though it was Alexander Lukashenko who would steer the situation back towards Moscow — first joined the UN and reinforced regional cooperation through organizations like the Baltic Interparliamentary Assembly and the Baltic Ministerial Council, as well as regional collaboration with Nordic countries, especially Finland and Sweden. This was their Western anchor to reinforce and protect themselves, initially under the protection of the United States (Clinton’s administration did much to protect these nascent states), and the EU quickly welcomed them as candidate countries.

In the first half of the 2000s, due to stabilization during Putin’s first term and the limited success of Yushchenko’s “Orange Revolution” (2005), opposition to Russia became stronger. The countries rapidly integrated into the EU and NATO to make Moscow’s influence irreversible.

To do so, they relaxed human rights requirements, and the Russian issue in Estonia was silenced. By 2006, Amnesty International called for an end to discrimination against Russians, who made up about 24.7% of the population. For example, the Russian language was eliminated as an official language and lacked any status. Estonia’s constitution defined the primary national goal as the preservation of the Estonian nation, which was characterized not as a population inherited from the Soviet era but as an ethnic category, embodying an ethnonational state.

In the early 2000s, efforts began to transfer Russian-speaking schools to Estonian-language education. Similar issues arose in Ukraine in 2014 with the threat of revoking the Kiválov-Koleschinenko Law, which recognized Ukrainian as the official language but allowed regional languages if at least 10% of the population spoke them — sometimes even less. Despite this, Russian-Ukrainians were content with the law until 2014, when the first revolt and the start of the Donbass conflict occurred, leading to its eventual revocation in 2019 with the law “To Ensure the Functioning of the Ukrainian Language as the State Language.”

The “Ukrainianization” of the population was also carried out in Estonia, where “Estonization” was forcibly imposed on Russians, against their will and through pressure. The situation is so severe that Estonia has 69,993 stateless persons who are not stateless at all—they are residents of Estonian origin, especially Russians, who lack citizenship and therefore rights. Despite holding a special passport that allows free movement within the Schengen area and Russia for three months in a 90-day period, they are segregated from the rest of the population. To obtain Estonian citizenship, they must pass language, history, and culture tests. This situation, affecting about two-thirds of Russian-Estonians, leaves them vulnerable as they struggle for rights within an Estonized state apparatus.

Socially and economically, the situation reflects in the low number of Russians involved in politics, civil service, or the armed forces despite their 24.7% share of the population, giving a sense of a sui generis apartheid regime where Russians are perceived as an alien, former oppressor under communist rule, suffering discrimination, social rejection, and increased labor discrimination. For instance, in 2005, 13% of Russian-Estonians were unemployed compared to 5% of Estonian ethnic citizens.

Latvia, a country taking a hard line against Russians

Against this backdrop, Russians in the Baltic see how, lately, under the pretext of the Ukraine War, the legacy not only of the Soviet era—deeply felt by Russians— but also of the Tsarist regime is being dismantled and destroyed. Their culture is being eroded, former criminals and anti-Russian figures are being glorified, and veterans of the SS are commemorated in parades, as happened in Latvia. Latvia, which has a more stringent approach to granting citizenship than Estonia, also glorifies Nazis in SS veteran parades, causing significant controversy. It prohibited Russian media content starting in 2026, which could only be broadcast in Latvian or other European Union languages.

Moreover, in 2022, the policies against Russia were tightened following the military operation in Ukraine. Nearly 18,000 people were affected, and to renew their permits, they had to pass Latvian language exams. In Latvia, the situation was even harsher than in Estonia: Russians who did not speak Latvian could not obtain citizenship and became “non-citizens” (nepilsoni). Today, they account for about 10% of the population, whereas Russians once represented about a third.

Among the Baltic ultranationalists, there is a widespread idea, originating among ethnic nationalist parties, that the invasion of the Soviet republics during World War II was not a Soviet, but a Russian invasion—and that Russians are an external element seeking to destroy their nations, as perceived during the Soviet era.

The Orthodox Church, another front

This has reached the Orthodox Church, which saw how in 1993 the Estonian Orthodox Church registered as independent, and in 1996 Patriarch Bartholomew I of Constantinople reactivated the tomos granted to the Estonian Orthodox Church in 1923. This caused a crisis between Bartholomew I and Moscow Patriarch Alexis II, who considered the ecclesiastical territory of Estonia to belong to the Moscow Patriarchate, leading to an initial crisis with Constantinople that would later intensify with Patriarch Bartholomew I’s recognition of the Autocephalous Ukrainian Orthodox Church, which put him at odds with Kirill of Moscow.

These moves by Patriarch Bartholomew against Russia may be related to the idea of the Primus Inter Pares of the Ecumenical Patriarchate of Constantinople, whose seat is no longer in a Christian country but in Turkey (a Muslim country), and which has fewer followers compared to the powerful, wealthy Russian Orthodox Church that also claims the title of “Third Rome” for Moscow, challenging Istanbul.

Ultimately, Estonia’s church was supported by the Finnish Orthodox Church, and the territory was divided between the new Estonian Orthodox Church (with about 31,000 members), those who aligned with Constantinople (a minority), and those who remained with the Moscow Patriarchate (the majority of ethnic Russians). In total, this community accounts for about 16.15% of the population, although among the majority of ethnic Estonians, atheism or, alternatively, Lutheranism, is practiced.

In sum, this is a silent and complex reality suffered by Russians in the territories inherited from the fall of the Soviet Union, which perhaps inspired Putin’s “Doctrine” of defending Russian communities outside the Federation based on the concept of Russkii Mir (the Russian world), a notion that has increasingly influenced these marginalized and mistreated populations, often with the silent complicity of the EU, of which these countries are members.

Lithuania, another anti-Russian front

A few months ago, an article titled Russians, the Discriminated in the Baltic was published, excluding Lithuania to avoid making the article too long. Here, our investigation continues.

The relationship between Lithuania and the Russian community within its territory has been historically complex, especially after Lithuania declared independence in 1990. Although the Lithuanian Constitution guarantees fundamental rights, in practice, the Russian community has faced discrimination and an increasingly hostile atmosphere at the state level.

After the dissolution of the Soviet Union, Lithuania embarked on a process of nation-building that aimed to redefine its national identity. The Russian community, which makes up about 5% of the population, has often been viewed as a remnant of Soviet occupation. This perception has led to tensions, with many Russians in Lithuania reporting harassment, stigmatization, and unequal treatment compared to ethnic Lithuanians.

Lithuanian legislation has begun to implement policies that disproportionately affect the Russian community. Restrictions on the use of the Russian language in education and public administration have limited their access to essential services. Additionally, some organizations have reported cases of layoffs and discrimination in employment based on ethnic or linguistic connections.

The situation has been exacerbated by the war in Ukraine, as the conflict has fueled anti-Russian rhetoric across the Baltics. Consequently, Russians in Lithuania have experienced increased surveillance and discrimination, creating an environment of fear and mistrust.

At the same time, Lithuania’s claims over the Kaliningrad region, a Russian enclave located between Poland and Lithuania, add another layer to this complex situation. Lithuania has expressed concerns about the militarization of Kaliningrad and has demanded greater attention to regional security. This has further heightened tensions between Lithuania and its Russian community within its borders. Geopolitical tensions in the region have led to increased hostility and an atmosphere of persecution amid growing political polarization.

Discrimination against the Russian community in Lithuania is a sensitive issue that reflects historical and geopolitical tensions in the region. The combination of unfavorable state policies and a hostile social climate has marginalized and persecuted the Russian community. As the situation evolves, it is crucial for Lithuania to work toward greater inclusion and respect for the rights of all its citizens, regardless of ethnic or linguistic origin. Finding a balance between national identity and minority rights will be essential for social cohesion in the future.