NARVA, ESTONIA, SEPTEMBER 2008
RUSSIA'S HUMAN WEAPON
The recent fighting in Georgia has raised concerns over Russia's long
term policy towards other former Soviet territories. Baltic states like
Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania are watching developments closely. They
are now members of the European Union and NATO but have significant
Russian populations. Moscow has already been accused of meddling, and
Humphrey Hawksley reports from Estonia as to whether Russia may be able
to use its expatriate populations to cause trouble for the West.
"Juri Mishin walked purposefully across the room to greet me.
Dressed in a neat light grey suit, he was a short energetic man, and
he ushered me to a seat, keen to explain his position in the new global
order.
We were in the offices of the Union of Russian Citizens, a political
organisation that said it spoke for Russians living the tiny Baltic
state of Estonia A quarter of the population is Russian and in the border
town of Narva where we were, just about everyone is.
The room was decorated with busts of Stalin and Lenin. A red Soviet
Hammer and Sickle flag stood in the corner and from the window there
was a view down to the Russia's border. The Narva River marks the line
and with castles on both banks, their flags flying in a strong wind,
it looked like a scene from a medieval epic.
Mr Mishin explained that he was also an official adviser to the State
Duma, the parliament in Moscow, his mission to alert the Kremlin as
to how its citizens, living outside their country, are being treated.
Since Russia invaded Georgia in August ostensibly to protect its own
citizens, this has become a highly sensitive issue.
"Russia isn't the weak collapsed state it was ten years ago," said
Mr Mishin. "It's risen from its knees and is now it's a country that
we can rely on. As Russians wherever we live we can now ask for its
support."
As if to prove his point, he introduced me to Bargrat Djikayev, a 75
year old former Soviet soldier who originally came from the breakaway
Georgian area of South Ossetia – the scene of the August fighting. Mr
Djikayev still had family there and he used to go back regularly until,
he said, it became too dangerous.
As he told his story, his face became tense and his eyes welled up.
He told of torture and murder by Georgians of South Ossetians, of men
executed, women dragged away and girls being raped and then burnt alive.
His speech was rushed and urgent and our interpreter could only just
keep up.
"Hold on," I said "You're saying this happened just now?"
He looked confused at the question.
"No", he said, "this was in the 12th century."
"12th century?" I said in disbelief. But why does what happened then
make you so angry?" I asked.
Mr Djikayev cut his hands through the air.
"Oh it started long before that" he said, "the Georgians attacked us
back in the 2nd century," he said.
"But you have to move on surely," I suggested.
He shook his head. "No. I want to go back and kill Mikhael Saakashvili,"
he said referring to the Georgian president.
Mr Mishin, his hand cupped around his chin, had been listening silently,
but chose now to intervene. "He's influenced by this feeling of blood
revenge that's common in the Caucuses," he said. "It's not like that
here. We have our differences with the Estonian government but we always
manage to negotiate."
Mr Mishin's leadership could be crucial as the West stakes out its
new relationship – with Russia already accused of using instability
among its expatriates as a possible weapon. A year ago, Estonia was
wracked with riots believed to have been inspired by the Kremlin. A
few weeks later, its internet system came under cyber attack – also
traced back to Moscow. And when driving into Narva we passed a long
line of trucks queuing up to cross the border in what's in effect a
blockade. Some drivers have to wait more than a week to get into Russia.
Mr Djikayev's anger reminded me of the Balkan wars, or the conflict
between the Sunni and Shia in Iraq, where politicians use historical
legends to deepen ethnic and religious divisions.
Whereas, Mr Mishin's view was more measured because he knew exactly
what he wanted to achieve. In short it was the best of both worlds –
keeping Russian citizenship, while reaping the benefits of the European
Union.
So what advice did he offer to his friend? "A bad peace is better than
war," said Mr Mishin. "They should talk and reach a consensus."
Did Mr Djikayev agree?
"Yes," he said, looking at Mr Mishin. "He is a wise and good man. I've
known him for 45 years."
"All right then, Mr Djikayev. Can I ask you again," I said, "what do
you want to do now to move on?"
The old Soviet soldier from South Ossetia sat up ramrod straight, deep
in thought, his hands clasped together. We waited silently for his response.
We could almost feel the conflict between reason, emotion, loyalty and
honour. Then he laid his hands on the table and shook his head. "The
same," he said. "I want to go back and kill Mikhael Saakishvili."