June 12 has seen Russia celebrate Independence Day since 1991. Amid parades and general celebrations, one question remains unanswered; independence from who? While other CIS countries looking to explain their past troubles find a likely scapegoat in their larger neighbour, this is not so easy for Russia. While Russia as a concept was never interchangeable with the Soviet Union, it was certainly the dominant culture. Mass state resettlement of Russians and deportation of native populations (both of which took place from tsarist times until well into the Soviet era), A Russian-speaking elite in many states, suppression of local language and culture – this has left resentment. But what attitudes do Russians take to their independent neighbours? And what are the consequences for them of the redrawn borders?


Estonia
Estonia has a large Russian population left within its borders. ‘Joining’ the USSR only after World War II, the Estonian SSR had a higher standard of living than many other states. It had beautiful resorts on the Baltic coast, and was generally seen as a desirable place to be sent for work. It was possible to live and work there for many years without learning a word of Estonian, and unfortunately most chose not to bother with this ‘difficult’ language. The post-soviet results of this lack of interaction were clear to me within 15 minutes’ of arrival at Talinn’s train station; Grandmothers begging at the station were all Russian; groups of teenagers around the town had divided themselves very clearly along language lines, and also were visibly following a different dress code; I witnessed a Russian speaker encounter hostility in a local shop because of the language she was using.

The Russian embassy in Talinn was full of old people applying for Russian citizenship. Estonian citizenship is not available without a working knowledge of Estonian, a requirement which many are unable or unwilling to fulfill. For those who choose to remain, or are stateless and cannot travel, it has become more difficult for relatives to visit. Firstly they need to obtain an international passport (not yet common in Russia, most have only their internal passport which they use as ID). Then they must go to Moscow and apply for a visa to Estonia, now an EU country. Reasonable enough, but it is human nature to compare with previous times, when matters were much simpler.

One elderly Russian expressed his indignation to me, explaining that the Red Army had saved these people in the war, and protected them as part of the Soviet Union. He felt that he deserved the right to live in Estonia on a decent pension without learning the language. The Estonian point of view is somewhat different; the Soviet era was a brutal occupation. In Talinn there is now a plaque documenting the Soviet bombing of Estonia.

Ukraine
A recent trip to Ukraine revealed a better situation in many ways. Ukraine has a settled ethnic Russian population in the East, on whom it did not place the requirement to learn Ukrainian in order to obtain citizenship. Now however, all schoolchildren learn Ukrainian, and in most parts of the country it is the main medium of education. The majority of the Russian population can cope in the language quite comfortably. In Kiev, where Russian and Ukrainian are spoken, there was no animosity apparent, and I even heard exchanges in shops from one side Ukrainian, the other in Russian!

Of course, Ukrainian and Russian culture are much more similar than Estonian and Russian, so you might say it is natural that the two peoples get along. However this gives rise to some sticky issues of its own. Speaking with Russian citizens traveling to Ukraine to visit relatives, a revealing attitude came to light. Some see an independent Ukraine as unnecessary or even ridiculous precisely because of the peoples’ close relationship. ‘Why is it necessary? What is it for?’ was the feeling, disregarding the differing political inclinations in Ukraine, and denying Ukrainians’ position as a minority culture in the USSR (or indeed as a separate culture at all!).
One elderly man was incensed at my desire to look out of the window after we crossed the border; “Ukrainian soil does not differ one bit from Russian soil! The people are the same, the land is the same, the language is the same!” He and others I spoke to made use of history to support re-unification of the two states; ‘Ukraine joined the Russian empire voluntarily’ (true); ‘Russia fed Ukraine in Soviet times’ (offensively untrue); ‘there have always been Russians in Ukraine’ (debatable).

At the same time, in Ukraine there has been the most passionate outburst of national pride and a rush for self-identification entirely exclusive of Russia. There are a truly staggering number of books outlining the national history, oppression and freedom movements, character, cuisine, costume etc. etc. From books, museums, from the people, everywhere there was a sense of extreme pride in Ukraine and her independence.

Looking at these two extremes, it’s clear that at least one side 'doth protest too much'. Petty grumbles at border checks and insensitive remarks from Russians visiting Ukraine could be seen as the last gasps of imperialism, but also mask a genuine fear that the border will one day close, cutting family from family. Politics has the power to sever these ties. Does it not also have a responsibility to protect them?