Are the Baltic states gearing up for war with Russia?

When Russia launched what it calls a “special military operation” in Ukraine, and images of bombed-out homes and schools were beamed into living rooms around the world, people in the tiny Baltic state of Latvia were particularly worried.

Ukraine and Latvia, among more than a dozen other countries, emerged from the ruins of the former Soviet Union in the early 1990s. Almost all of them have similar concrete apartment blocks built decades ago as cheap housing.

“There are conflicts around the globe, especially in the Middle East and Africa. But when we saw Russian tanks rolling over the border of Ukraine, it resonated with us,” says Maris Andzans, the Director of the Center for Geopolitical Studies Riga think tank.

“The architecture in Ukraine and Latvia is similar. The scenes in Ukraine looked so similar. There were cars in Estonia with Ukrainian number plates, and there were Ukrainian refugees. At one point, Ukrainian refugees made up 5 percent of the Estonian population.”

Since the war broke out in 2022, millions of Ukrainians have fled to other countries. Some took refuge in the three Baltic states, Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania, which share a border with Russia and its exclave, Kaliningrad.

All three are members of the European Union and the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO), the military alliance led by the United States.

Over the past two years, they have taken several steps to shore up their defences, including deploying thousands of soldiers from other European allies.

In early July, the Netherlands sent US-made Patriot batteries to Lithuania as part of a military drill, the first time the most advanced missiles in the world had been stationed in a Baltic state.

Thousands of soldiers from Canada, Germany, and the United Kingdom are deployed in Latvia, Lithuania and Estonia as part of a NATO mission.

Previously, only NATO battalions were in the Baltic states. A battalion typically has between 1,000 and 2,000 soldiers. Now, NATO countries are in the process of deploying entire brigades, which represent around 5,000 troops each.

After last year’s NATO summit in Vilnius, the Lithuanian capital, the 32-member alliance readied its fighter jets to counter any Russian aerial threat.

“The Baltic states are a more vulnerable part of the NATO for various historical and geographical reasons. It’s sort of an isolated peninsula up in the northeast that’s quite difficult to get to,” says Anthony Lawrence, the Head of the Defence Policy and Strategy Programme at the International Centre for Defence and Security (ICDS) in Tallinn.

“There’s always a fear that Russia could kind of quickly grab the territory in this region, and then NATO would be faced with very unpalatable choices about how it might respond.”

An attack on a NATO country can trigger Article 5 of the alliance’s agreement, which treats military aggression against one member as an attack on the whole alliance.

Such a scenario has unfolded only once before after the 9/11 terrorist attacks on the United States.

The Baltic states are not just looking at NATO to beef up security. They have increased defence spending and are set to meet the target of investing three percent of their GDP on weapons and troops, ahead of their wealthier EU peers.

Lithuania has earmarked over $490 million to purchase the US-made High Mobility Artillery Rocket System (HIMARS). From this year onwards, Vilnius will start receiving these multiple rocket launchers.

Estonia and Latvia have also ordered HIMARs, which have played a crucial role in defending Ukrainian territory.

In June, Vilnius signed an agreement with the German arms maker Rheinmetall to build a $195 million plant to manufacture 155-millimeter artillery shells in Lithuania.

However, the big question remains: Is Russia a serious threat to the Baltic states?

A war foretold

Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania joined the EU and NATO in 2004.

“For the first decade, the Baltic states were members of NATO only on paper since there was almost no allied military presence in these countries,” says Andzans.

The EU began taking the defence of its eastern-most members seriously after Russia annexed Crimea in 2014. Estonian and Latvian politicians, who had for years warned against Russia’s military ambitions, felt vindicated.

Then, Russia sent troops into Ukraine in February 2022, raising concerns that the conflict would spill onto a wider region.

Moscow says it harbours no desire to attack the Baltic countries.

“Russia might have taken a decisive action in Ukraine, but it is unlikely it will do that same in the Baltic countries,” says Kamran Gasanov, a political analyst at the Russian International Affairs Council (RIAC), a Moscow-based think tank.

“Moscow does not see these countries as part of its Eurasian Project,” he says, referring to the desire of the Russian political and military leadership to extend influence to the 15 former Soviet republics.

However, the region's geography, demography, and history have strained the Baltic countries' leadership even though they have NATO security cover.

Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania have a total population of six million, and together, they have a few thousand active soldiers. The Baltic states don’t have an air force.

For the Baltic officials, it’s difficult to trust Russia’s assurance that it’s not interested in a westward invasion. Russian President Vladamir Putin and his aides have often used inflammatory rhetoric that includes the mention of nuclear weapons, say some analysts.

“Putin is prone to miscalculation,” says ICDS’s Lawrence. “You know, he thought this would be a three-day war and Ukraine would collapse and be grateful for it.”

Ukraine, with its one million troops, has struggled to stop the advance of Russian infantry and tanks. The much smaller Baltic countries fear that Russia would quickly take their territory in a surprise attack and “then essentially dare NATO to respond,” says Lawrence.

Perhaps the one aspect of Russia’s difficult relationship that’s given sleepless nights to the leaders of the Baltic countries is the issue of a sizeable Russian-speaking minority in their countries.

The monument(al) issue

The war in Ukraine broke out after Russia attacked the Donbas region, which includes the breakaway provinces of Donetsk and Luhansk.

Donbas is located in eastern Ukraine and has a sizeable Russian-speaking minority. On the eve of the war, Moscow claimed that Donetsk and Luhansk had declared independence after a referendum, inviting the Russian troops.

Russian-speaking people constitute 36 percent in Latvia and more than 27 percent in Estonia.

“Considering this proportion of Russian-speaking people, any democratic solution demands that Russian be made the official second language. But that hasn’t happened,” says Sergei Markov, a well-known Russian political analyst and former advisor to Putin.

“The human, political and social rights of these Russian-speaking people are clearly violated by the Latvian and Estonian governments.”

Estonia and Latvia have struggled to integrate their Russian-speaking residents into the mainstream. On the contrary, Tallinn and Riga have adopted measures that could have easily put their conduct under the spotlight during peacetime.

In August 2022, the Latvian government tore down the Victory Monument, a 79-metre tall concrete obelisk adorned with golden stars that symbolised Soviet resistance against the German Nazis.

The monument, built in 1985, became an anchor point for the Russophone Latvians, who would gather around the structure every year on May 9 to celebrate the Soviet victory.

Hundreds of similar Soviet-era monuments have been demolished in the Baltic countries, causing anxiety among the Russian-speaking people, many of whom are stateless because Estonia and Latvia haven’t granted them citizenship.

“The Estonian and Latvian governments have forbidden to give them citizenship using different judicial tricks, and its absolutely not a democratic decision,” says Sergei Markov.

The Latvian government has also taken steps to discourage using the Russian language in government offices and state-run schools. Starting next year, children in Latvia won’t be offered chemistry or maths classes in Russian.

“What’s happening is really offensive to the Russian people, and there are public demanding their government to protect their rights,” says Markov.

But for the majority of citizens of the Baltic countries, the Russian language and names of streets after Putin or Lenin are reminiscent of the difficulties they endured under the Soviet occupation.

“Let's also not forget that the situation we have here with the ethnic composition is a direct consequence of the Soviet occupation,” says Maris Andzans of the Centre for Geopolitical Studies.

“Before the Second World War, 77 percent of Latvia’s inhabitants were Latvians, Russians were less than 9 percent. By the end of the occupation, Russians were already 34 percent. So almost 1 million people from other parts of the Soviet Union were settled here.”

Andzans says surveys have shown that a large number of Russian-speaking residents of Latvia blame Moscow for the Ukraine war.

The Baltic countries have blocked Russia’s state media from broadcasting in their territories.

As the Baltic countries deploy troops and long-range missiles and rockets on their borders, the possibility of a direct confrontation between Russia and the EU can not be ruled out.

Kamran Gasanov says the only way to de-escalate the situation is to resolve the Ukraine conflict as soon as possible.

“Türkiye, China and Hungary can play a decisive role in this.”