Littérature scientifique sur le sujet « Memorials – Political aspects – Estonia »

From “Museum of Occupations” to “Vabamu”: Analysis of Naming Policy This article focuses on the debate around the name Vabamu and is aimed at discussing whether and how the culture of remembering the Soviet era can change in today’s Estonia. In February 2016, the Estonian Museum of Occupations announced its plans to refresh its identity and change the name of the museum to the Museum of Freedom Vabamu. The planned name change sparked controversy in society about the meaning of the (Soviet) military occupation, the sufferings of that period and ways of commemorating them. Over 60 stories were published in the Estonian media from February to August 2016, accompanied by lively discussion on social media. Estonia’s Russian-language media did not participate in the discussion. The article analyses the Vabamu name debate in the context of naming policy and Estonian 20th century historical memory. First of all, the term of “occupation” is explained from the aspect of Estonia’s political identity and Baltic, Russian and European relations. Secondly, the article analyses the main voices and topics in the debate and which of the current memory regime’s models and frameworks of memory policy emerged. It asks, from the perspective of memory studies, why the name change to “Vabamu” was not carried out according to original plans. The main sources of the analysis were texts in the media; including social media; interviews with the museum director, participatory observations at meetings of the museum’s advisory board, and at meetings and temporary exhibitions organized by the museum. In addition to documenting the development of the name debate, the participation, observation and interviews made it possible to explore the conceptual objectives behind the name “Vabamu”. The following opinions resonated in discussions: (1) opinions of the Memento organization (which advocates for the rights of those who suffered persecution by the Soviet regime) and Soviet-era dissidents in media opinion pieces and segments and public statements; (2) statements made by politicians (mainly rightconservatives); (3) opinions from members of the Estonian émigré community; (4) statements from museum managing director Merilin Piipuu and the chairwoman of the Kistler-Ritso foundation Sylvia Thompson, which reflected the museum’s intentions; and (5) the public discussion initiated by the museum. A key date in the development of the debate was 25 March 2016, the anniversary of mass deportations in 1949 when also the representatives of Memento organization voiced their opinion. Giving up “occupation” in the name of the museum occasioned property claims of the generation of victims of communism. The repressed people considered the Museum of Occupation their symbolic place. For this group, the disappearance of the word “occupations” from the museum name actualized the complexity of policy of recognizing their experience ever since the late 1980s. The debate regarding the establishing of a memorial to victims of communism in Tallinn also had an influence. The discussions over “Vabamu” were held in a transnational context, pertaining mainly to neighbouring Russia, and the global Holocaust memory culture. The name change was perceived above all as an adoption of Russian memory politics, not just in the context of the Baltic states but in the broader geopolitical context. Giving up the word “occupation” was seen by critics – and at the outset of the debate by the museum as well – as a national security issue. As the discussion evolved, the museum distanced itself from the security discourse and cited Russian tourists and Estonian Russians as target groups that needed to be reached and included. The comparison to the Holocaust memory culture was also used as an argument by both parties. The opponents of the new name used international comparisons to stress the remembering of the violent past in similar (national) threat contexts. On the other hand, the museum used the Holocaust argument from the standpoint of Jewish identity to justify its intention to move further past the national narrative of occupation. The debates over the name Vabamu were also related to a perception of intergenerational changes in memory work. The museum was reconceptualising the past and future to reach out to younger generations whose experience horizon is radically different from that of the generation of the victims of repressions and whose sense of freedom is more individualized. For opponents of “Vabamu”, the museum staff themselves represented the younger generation who no longer had a link to Estonia’s past ordeals and for whom intergenerational memory and solidarity had become interrupted. Their preference for a multiperspective narrative in place of a narrative of victimhood and resistance was interpreted as an ethical softening toward the victims and trivialization of trauma. As a result of the name debate, the museum decided to forgo a radical change in the name and opted for a compromise: Vabamu, the Museum of Occupations and Freedom. The debate over the concept of occupation showed the importance of linguistic definitions in a more extensive battle over how the past is represented. The concept of occupation has been the core of political identity both in postcommunist Estonia and the other two Baltics. The term “occupation” is related to all of the key elements in Estonia’s postcommunist narrative. Associating the memory of the (Soviet) occupation with security policy in the Vabamu debate points to a main reason for persistence of Estonian current memory culture – the so-called Russian threat, which is perceived as an existential danger, a constant challenge to the survival of the Estonian state. Earlier studies have shown that for Estonians, personal, social, cultural and political memory is strongly interwoven when remembering the 20th century: the national story is strongly supported by family stories. This makes the national narrative personal. When central symbols of the historical memory come under fire, fears are stoked and appeals to a moral duty to preserve a common past are heard.

On August 31, 2021, Alar Karis, with support of the governing coalition, won the second round of presidential elections in Estonia. The authors analyze the elections in the framework of institutional and procedural contexts as well as formal and informal stances taken by political parties on the event’s eve. A. Karis became the most appropriate candidate proposed by the ruling coalition, after gaining certain advantage over another “intelligent” candidate T. Soomere, president of the Academy of Sciences. The institute of presidency and election procedure form a subject for permanent discussion in Estonian society, because of the authoritarian experience of the 1930s.

Abstract Recent literature on modern martyrdom and memory has focused on cases in which individual groups remember martyrs’ sacrifices by making similar memorials to them. However, this article argues that even if members of a group agree on a martyr narrative, different memorials with diverse meanings can still be erected in memory of the martyrs concerned. This article supports its argument by exploring the case of twenty members of the Holy Ghost Fathers (Spiritans) who were killed on 1 January 1962 in Kongolo in southeastern Congo-Kinshasa. The memorials dedicated to these Spiritans differ substantively with each other by emphasizing different aspects of sacrifice and memory. This article concludes by arguing that the diversity of memorials involved in this case alerts us to the fact that the traditions associated with martyrdom do not always dominate the public memory of those who sacrifice their lives for a cause.

The article cosiders the phenomenon of the "monument fall" in Latvia, Lithuania and Estonia and outlines the main stages of this process as well as the key factors that have intensified the dismantling of Soviet memorial heritage and contributed to the spread of vandalism against it. The "monument fall" began in the first half of the 1990s when, in the absence of a legislative framework providing protection and legal status for memorial objects, numerous acts of vandalism and isolated cases of demolition of monuments by official decision were carried out in the Baltic States. The second wave of demolition actions (from 2014) took place in different circumstances, when memorial legislation was already in place (from the second half of the 1990s), the international cooperation between Russia and the Baltic states regarding the protection of Soviet memorials could be seen, and on the domestic political level Latvia, Lithuania and Estonia supervised the condition of the monuments. Like the previous one, the third wave (from 2022) was related to the aggravation of international relations against the background of the Russian-Ukrainian crisis, and here the particular feature was the change in legislation by the Baltic states authorities with a general vector towards stripping Soviet memorials of their special status and legalising their dismantling. At the same time, the "monument fall" in the Baltic states poses something of a paradox: the cleansing of the collective memory of Latvians, Lithuanians and Estonians from the Soviet presence, aimed among other things at consolidating these peoples, is accompanied by the destruction of memory of their representatives, who in one way or another were identified with the Soviet presence in Latvia, Lithuania and Estonia.

Abstract The article gives an overview of general trends in media use in Estonia over the last 15 years, making some comparisons with Nordic countries. Since the beginning of postcommunist transformation in 1991, the media landscape in Estonia has faced substantial changes. A completely renewed media system has emerged, characterized by a diversity of channels, formats, and contents. Not only the media themselves, but also the patterns of media use among audiences, their habits and expectations, have gone through a process of radical change. Changes in the Estonian media landscape have some aspects in common with many other European countries, such as the impact of emerging new media and global TV; others are specific features of transition to a market economy and democratic political order. Besides discussing general trends, the article gives insights into some audience- related aspects of changes, more specifically age and ethnicity.

The past two decades have witnessed a reassessment and broadening of conceptions of identity among both the ethnic Estonian and Russian populations in Estonia. In addition to a continuing focus on aspects of national distinctiveness, emphasizing their small numbers, language, culture, territorial homeland, and—as a new factor—the state, the Estonians have increasingly engaged with a wider range of identities (local, regional, and European). Among these, the regional level has been the most productive, enhancing Estonia’s already strong ties to Finland but also fostering closer connections to its other Nordic and Baltic neighbors. Although integration into NATO and integration into the European Union continue to receive strong approval, a European identity is still in the process of formation. For the Russian community, the fall of communism led to a full reevaluation of the bases of its identity. The major trend has seen a shift from a political consciousness (loyalty to the Soviet Union) to a greater emphasis on the Russian language and ethnicity. In spite of the general peacefulness of ethnic relations, any meaningful integration of the two major nationalities in Estonia remains incomplete, as graphically demonstrated in the Bronze Soldier affair in April 2007. Russians, especially younger ones, increasingly know the Estonian language, but views of history, especially regarding World War II, and attitudes toward Russia still differ markedly between the Estonian and Russian populations. The process of integration is further complicated by the neighboring and still powerful kin-state of the local Russian population.

The authors examine and compare the rules on consumer insolvency in Estonia and Norway. Under Estonian law, consumers may obtain debt adjustments under the 2003 Bankruptcy Act (in the form of a debt release) or under the 2010 Debt Restructuring and Debt Protection Act (in the form of debt restructuring). These two acts apply to both entrepreneurs and consumers. In Norway, a Debt Settlement Act was introduced in 1992, allowing for debt settlements for consumers. Debt adjustment under general insolvency legislation is not regarded as a viable option for consumers in Norway, it being a rather costly and cumbersome procedure. In Norway, each municipality is obliged to offer debt counselling services to consumers, while in Estonia, debt counselling services are available through non-governmental organization (NGOs) and through some municipalities on a voluntary basis. The number of instituted proceedings for debt settlements (Norway) and for debt restructuring (Estonia) are relatively low: in 2014, the numbers stood at 57 per 100 000 inhabitants in Norway and 2 per 100 000 inhabitants in Estonia. The difference between the two countries may to some extent be explained by differences in legislation and in organization of debt counselling, but the authors conclude that the explanation must probably be found also in cultural, sociological and political factors.

Memorials have become increasingly relevant in societies seeking to come to terms with the past of mass violence and there is a growing body of academic scholarship that scrutinises the politics of memory in divided societies. This article takes a different approach to the politics of memorials: it does not focus on what is remembered, that is, to what a memorial testifies, but how memory at a memorial (supposedly) takes place through the aesthetic strategies put to work. It contributes to emerging literature which explores aspects of performativity and the politics of affect. The objective is, however, to take it one step further by not only shifting attention to studying the engagement with, experience and performance at these sites but also to the politics of the aesthetics choice that promote this engagement. To do so, it differentiates between three aesthetic styles of memorials: imposing, counter and affirmative memorials that were all developed at a particular time in order to pursue particular political and social objectives. The current phenomenon, affirmative memorials, holds that there is a duty to remember and is firmly embedded in efforts to build peace, advance liberal norms and contribute to transitional justice. Pursuing this strategy is however at odds with the aesthetic style of these affirmative memorials that is derived from counter memorials and celebrates plurality and openness rather than wanting to affirm one message.

This article aims to reflect on the creation of new digital memorials and obituaries to preserve and tell the story of people who were victims of the coronavirus, and the political and cultural aspects of these projects of patrimonialization of mourning.

AbstractAfter a genocide, leaders compete to fill the postwar power vacuum and establish their preferred story of the past. Memorialisation, including through building memorials, provides a cornerstone of political power. The dominant public narrative determines the plotline; it labels victims and perpetrators, interprets history, assigns meaning to suffering, and sets the post-atrocity political agenda. Therefore, ownership of the past, in terms of the public account, is deeply contested. Although many factors affect the emergence of a dominant atrocity narrative, this article highlights the role of international interactions with genocide memorials, particularly how Western visitors, funders, and consultants influence the government's narrative. Western consumption of memorials often reinforces aspects of dark tourism that dehumanise victims and discourage adequate context for the uninformed visitor. Funding and consultation provided by Western states and organisations – while offering distinct benefits – tends to encourage a homogenised atrocity narrative, which reflects the values of the global human rights regime and existing standards of memorial design rather than privileging the local particularities of the atrocity experience. As shown in the cases of Rwanda, Cambodia, and Bosnia, Western involvement in public memory projects often strengthens the power of government narratives, which control the present by controlling the past.