Housden Martyn. Forgotten Pages in Baltic History: Diversity and Inclusion. (On the Boundary of Two Worlds: Identity, Freedom, and Moral Imagination in the Baltics) (ENG)
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Forgotten Pages in Baltic History
Diversity and Inclusion
On the Boundary of Two Worlds:
Identity, Freedom, and Moral Imagination
in the Baltics
30
Founding and Executive Editor
Leonidas Donskis, Member of the European Parliament, and previously
Professor and Dean of Vytautas Magnus University School of Political
Science and Diplomacy in Kaunas, Lithuania.
Editorial and Advisory Board
Timo Airaksinen, University of Helsinki, Finland
Egidijus Aleksandravicius, Lithuanian Emigration Institute, Vytautas
Magnus University, Kaunas, Lithuania
Stefano Bianchini, University of Bologna, Forlì Campus, Italy
Endre Bojtar, Institute of Literary Studies, Budapest, Hungary
Ineta Dabasinskiene, Vytautas Magnus University, Lithuania
Robert Ginsberg, Pennsylvania State University, USA
John Hiden, University of Glasgow, UK
Martyn Housden, University of Bradford, UK
Mikko Lagerspetz, Åbo Academy, Finland
Andreas Lawaty, Nordost-Institute, Lüneburg, Germany
Olli Loukola, University of Helsinki, Finland
Valdis Muktupavels, University of Latvia, Riga, Latvia
Hannu Niemi, University of Helsinki, Finland
Yves Plasseraud, Paris, France
Rein Raud, Rector of Tallinn University, Estonia
Alfred Erich Senn, University of Wisconsin-Madison, USA, and
Vytautas Magnus University, Kaunas, Lithuania
André Skogström-Filler, University Paris VIII-Saint-Denis, France
David Smith, University of Glasgow, UK
Saulius Suziedelis, Millersville University, USA
Joachim Tauber, Nordost-Institut, Lüneburg, Germany
Tomas Venclova, Yale University, USA
Forgotten Pages in Baltic History
Diversity and Inclusion
Amsterdam - New York, NY 2011
Edited by
Martyn Housden and David J. Smith
Cover photo: Latvijas Nacionālās bibliotēkas Baltijas Centrālā bibliotēka.
Formerly located in Vāgnera iela, Riga.
Martyn Housden, September 2004.
The paper on which this book is printed meets the requirements of
“ISO 9706:1994, Information and documentation - Paper for
documents - Requirements for permanence”.
ISBN: 978-90-420-3315-3
E-Book ISBN: 978-90-420-3316-0
© Editions Rodopi B.V., Amsterdam - New York, NY 2011
Printed in the Netherlands
JWH
Table of Contents
Introduction
Martyn Housden and David J. Smith
1
A Special Baltic German Understanding about Finland’s
Autonomy in the Russian Empire? Count Fabian Steinheil as the
Governor-General of the Grand Duchy of Finland (1810–1823)
Frank Nesemann
9
The “Old” and “New” Lithuanians: Collective Identity Types in
Lithuania at the Turn of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries
Rimantas Miknys and Darius Staliūnas
35
Regional Identity in Latvia: The Case of Latgale
Andrejs Plakans
49
The Dancing Conference of Bulduri: A Clash of Alternative
Regional Futures
Marko Lehti
71
Securing the Lives of Ordinary People. Baltic Perspectives on the
Work of the League of Nations
Martyn Housden
95
The Historiography of Paul Schiemann
Michael Garleff
117
Werner Hasselblatt on Cultural Autonomy: A Forgotten
Manuscript
Jörg Hackmann
147
A Matter of Uniqueness? Paul Schiemann, Ewald Ammende and
Mikhail Kurchinskii Compared
Martyn Housden and David J. Smith
161
Leaders, Divided Society and Crisis. The Coup d’État of 1934 in
Latvia, its Causes and Consequences
Valters Ščerbinskis
187
The View from the Top: German Soldiers and Lithuania in the
Two World Wars
Joachim Tauber
211
Soviet Genocide in Latvia? Conflicting Cultures of Remembrance
of Stalin’s Policy, 1940–1953
Erwin Oberländer
239
The Convergence of Two Worlds: Historians and Emerging
Histories in the Baltic States
Eva-Clarita Pettai
263
“You’ve got to know History!” Remembering and Forgetting the
Past in the Present-Day Baltic
David J. Smith
281
The Unbearable Lightness of Incessant Change: The Predicaments
of Modernity in Lithuania
Leonidas Donskis
301
Contributors
329
Introduction
Although it does not focus on them exclusively, this collection of essays
takes as pivotal the years 1918 to 1945. It was a breath-taking, frantic period
full of optimistic ventures and tragedies alike. In the euphoria of the post-war
world, the Baltic States emerged as fresh and independent players on the
international scene, a few private Baltic citizens tried to influence
international relations, and the world community undertook an experiment in
transnational government, the effects of which were felt in Kaunas, Riga and
Tallinn as elsewhere. Later, in the wake of economic catastrophe and in the
face of rising political nationalism among European populations which really
should have known better, Baltic politicians and communities (like those in
other parts of Europe) increasingly lost their progressive qualities and began
defining their interests more narrowly. Finally, during wartime, the same
Baltic communities and their leaders became both victims and, sometimes at
least, victimisers. Ultimately their victimhood lasted until the end of the Cold
War, yielding psychological consequences that still can be identified easily
today.
Inevitably, decades like these produce all manner of historiographical
challenges. How should we interpret the central historical figures, their
initiatives and the populations following them? Was the optimism of the
1920s always based on inadequate foundations? Were the ―lights‖ of the
period always destined to ―fail‖?
1
Was the rising nationalism of the later
1920s and 1930s purely a response to crisis, or an out-flowing of something
else—perhaps something more fundamental or long-term? How much
understanding should we extend to progressive figures from the 1920s who,
during the years that followed, changed tack and played nationalist cards?
When we reach the Second World War, we encounter trains of events which
resonate still in important ways. How do we balance the twin experiences of
being persecuted, but being prepared to persecute too? And, in today’s
increasingly globalized community of scholarship and historical memory,
how does ―coming to terms with the past‖ from a Baltic point of view stand
in relation to the claims of other national communities―most notably
German, Russian and Jewish ones?
Time and again when you deal with the period 1918 to 1945 you have
to admit that history is not just about the past; it is too important for that. The
statement holds good even for a topic such as security―in fact perhaps
particularly for it, since many of the same concerns run through historical
studies and contemporary security analyses. After all, both are interested in
the causes of international tensions. Admittedly this comparison might strike
some people as odd. After all, we are in the twenty first century and striving
to create a post-Cold War security architecture. Only in 2003 the United
Nations produced the Human Security agenda supposed to re-cast security
thinking. Not military agendas, but social and economic ones are highlighted
Martyn Housden and David J. Smith
2
as the touchstones of peace. By necessity, therefore, security discussions now
throw up quandaries such as the best way to underpin peaceful lives without
recourse to military thinking. We have to consider ways to establish stable,
cohesive societies in which violent responses even to grave problems are
always defined as ―out of the game‖.
The funny thing is, even this self-conscious definition of a security
agenda for today amounts to a return to the past. In 1918 the world emerged
from a protracted conflict and sought new, inclusive ways of doing
things―ones supposed to avoid all the mistaken divisions and rivalries of
prior years. It follows that the story of the pursuit of peace during the 1920s
contains many elements which resonate with the reconstruction of a unified
Europe since the end of the Cold War. In the 1920s, divisions between old
empires disappeared and new nation states came to the fore. There was a
tremendous fresh potential for international connectedness and―so long as
you didn’t want to travel to Russia―for popular movement around the
continent. International government took off with the construction of the
League of Nations―and the Baltic States were enthusiastic to participate in
the organisation. For its part, the League was much more interested in
Eastern Europe than is realised generally.
In this environment, the governments of the Baltic States showed
progressive trends. Particularly notable were the experiments in setting up
liberal multicultural state structures, for instance as established in Latvia’s
schooling law of 1919 and Estonia’s cultural autonomy law of 1925.
Meanwhile Lithuania entered into negotiations with the League of Nations
over her borders and pursued her serious dispute with Poland through
peaceful channels. All three states made important international declarations
to the League about the preservation of the rights of national minorities
within their borders. Of course there were setbacks to deal with and some
bitter pills to swallow. Typically land reform hit former imperial élites hard.
Often these were members of national minorities, some of whom protested to
foreign governments and the League of Nations. There was a poorly
organised Communist putsch in Tallinn in 1924, as well as economic
problems and a failure to forge the three Baltic States into an effective
international bloc. Despite Lithuania’s protests to the League, Vilnius was
not restored either. Yet the zest of newly gained popular democracy remained
evident; there was a sense that opportunities lay in the hands of the peoples of
the day mediated by their responsive leaders.
Individuals such as Zigfrīds Meierovics and Kaarel Pusta energised
discourse at both international and domestic levels. Even if the motivations of
some of the key players could be complicated—as was the case, say, for
minorities activist Ewald Ammende—with anti-Communism and social
reaction both playing a part in the thinking of the time, still the projects
launched in the Baltic region in the 1920s were better than some of those on
display elsewhere. Hence one Baltic commentator (admittedly a man