European Union ‘We’re In, Baby!’

The once seemingly impossible dream of Baltic European Union membership is now in the bag.
One word, “Yes!”, filled the entire front page of Estonia’s Postimees newspaper the day after the country passed its referendum in September, 2003. Latvians popped champagne corks a week later when they approved EU entry by a similar 67-percent margin. Lithuania was the first Baltic state to vote itself in, with the yes side winning 91 percent of the ballots in May.

As the results became clear in Latvia and Estonia on their respective referendum nights, leaders hailed the yes victory as the dawn of a new age for their countries, which, for most of the past 800 years, had been sucked by force into one power bloc after another. “In the last hundred years, we’ve had no generation that hasn’t faced turmoil. The EU generation will be the first,” said a beaming Andris Berzins, Latvia’s recent prime minister. In the longer run, others said that EU membership could prompt a Baltic economic boom, eventually putting the region on par with the likes of Celtic Tiger Ireland.

Others were quick to sound more sober notes, pointing out that the EU-bound Baltics still face a host of social and economic problems; it could take decades for overall living standards to reach average EU levels. One cartoon in the Päevaleht daily showed a man staring bewilderedly into his wallet a day after he voted yes to the EU. “That’s funny,” he says, “it’s just as empty today as it was yesterday.” Dejected EU opponents in Estonia who warned about an impending loss of national identity decried the birth of what they dubbed the “Euro-Stonian.”

Latvians and Estonians, once seen as the most EU-skeptical bunch in Europe, were thought to have at least an outside chance of spoiling the EU expansion party by snubbing the powerful bloc. But in the end, the referendum battle between the yes and no sides had all the competitive rigor of a bout pitting Mike Tyson against a girl scout. Big businesses eager for the seamless access to EU markets that membership promises pulled out the stops—and the campaign cash—to ensure victory. Estonian Air even offered “Yes Fares,” tickets to London, Paris and other major European cities at cut-rate prices. Ads lined the streets of Tallinn in the weeks before the vote—one showing a drenched, sad-eyed dog chained during a downpour just out of reach of a doghouse; text above the picture read, “It’s better to be in.” One pro-EU ad even held out the promise to women of “sexier men” when borders come down after membership.

Vastly outgunned EU skeptics struggled, often reduced to gluing fliers to bus stops. One listed 12 reasons to rebuff the EU, including, it said, because it shares a fondness with the U.S.S.R. for bossing tiny states around. (Official attempts to counter such emotive parallels weren’t helped when some voters in Estonia received absentee EU ballots stuffed in Soviet-era envelopes stamped with hammers and sickles. Postal workers said they used them by mistake.)

Younger, better-off Estonians seemed more inclined to back entry, seeing opportunities to travel and even work abroad dramatically opening up for them. Others seemed swayed more by psychological factors, including that membership will mark the return of the Baltics to Europe after so long on the humiliating fringes. Some older Estonians said they’d vote “yes,” not for themselves, but for their children and grandchildren.

High on the list of criticism from the no-to-the-EU camp was that Estonia will be forfeiting too much sovereignty, something they wrestled from Russia against all odds barely a decade ago. “Within the EU, Estonia’s prime minister, from the point of view of influencing European policies affecting us, will be no more important than a Parisian city commissioner,” said Igor Gräzin, a former parliamentarian and key figure in the anti-EU campaign. “He’ll be lucky if a desk officer at EU headquarters calls him from time to time.”

“That’s absurd,” countered Estonian Prime Minister Juhan Parts in an interview at his office in Tallinn. “The Estonian premier will be one of 25 sitting around a table deciding Europe’s most important issues. The stature of our leaders will increase dramatically.” Parts argued Estonia would be affected deeply by EU economic and social policies in or out of the body—and so it will be better to be in, to influence the course of those policies.

Among other arguments from EU detractors was that the Baltic states will loose their unique cultures and that their native languages could whither away within the EU. “My nightmare is that Estonia, in all but name, will cease to exist within the EU,” said anti-membership campaigner Jüri Estam. “Linguistically and culturally, it could be like the last of the Mohicans.” (Proponents counter that Estonia’s cultural profile will, within the EU, be higher than ever before—and that this can only help the culture and language rise to new heights. To drive home the argument, one pro-EU group ran a television ad showing a guard at London’s Buckingham Palace flipping through a text book—struggling to learn and pronounce Estonian.)

Estam also argued that socialist-oriented policy-makers in the EU will force Estonia to abandon the radical open-market system that’s made it so successful. “We’ll be killing the goose that laid the golden eggs,” he said, grimacing and shaking his head. “Estonia’s going to screw up and join a Euro-sclerotic customs union and squander any chance to become a kind of free-market Singapore.”
Gräzin said he was convinced that any celebrations would eventually give way to deep regret. “EU membership may not be an immediate disaster, but the realization will come later—when people begin to realize that they’ve bought a ticket on the Titanic,” he said. “Even the Titanic set sail, at first, with lots of dancing and merry making.” .