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THROUGH THICK AND THIN - Interview with Jean-Jacques Subrenat, editor of “Estonia, identity and independence”
Jean-Jacques Subrenat was Ambassador to Estonia (1998-2002) and to Finland (2002-05). He is currently Chairman of the Advisory Board of Institut Pierre Werner in Luxembourg (www.ipw.lu); a Member of the Board of Directors of ICANN (www.icann.org); and a tutor at ENA in Strasbourg. He also keeps a bilingual blog on global events at http://serenidee.over-blog.com.
He was also the initiator and editor of "Estonia - Identity and Independence", a book that brought together some major contemporary contributors, which he published during his posting as French Ambassador to Estonia. The book was published successively in Estonian, Russian, French and English.
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What message did you want to deliver through your book?
The idea of such a book took shape shortly after my arrival in Tallinn . I remember vividly the day in the fall of 1998 when I presented my credentials to the Head of State: during our conversation (in French) after the ceremony, I inquired about the way the Estonians perceived their identity, and how they had managed to uphold it through thick and thin. Among the indications Lennart Meri was gracious enough to give me that day, I was struck by this: “You see, Mr. Ambassador, you the French, or say the British, or the Italians, and others, even if you were to undergo a long occupation, you know that even after several generations, the culture, the identity of France, or of the United Kingdom, or of Italy would still remain. But just imagine: if the occupation of my country, with such a small population, had lasted one generation more, perhaps this would have been fatal to the language, the culture and therefore the identity of Estonians”.
Back in the flat, which was then the “French residence” on Pärnu maantee, opposite the Old Theatre of Tallinn, I reflected on the implications of this sombre reminder. In the next months, I met many Estonians, some of whom had been instrumental in their country’s recovery of independence, artists, writers, teachers, employees, musicians, ordinary citizens. Soon, I became aware of a deepening rift in Estonian society: on one hand, those for whom the return to independence had been a vibrant, a defining period of their lives, as student activists, as intellectuals, as economists, as teachers or as trade unionists; on the other hand, those for whom Estonia reborn was a matter of fact, offering many opportunities to study, to find employment, to travel, to make money, to enjoy life. Many young people belonged to this latter group, as well as some “overseas Estonians” who had been attracted by wide-open business opportunities.
I found it a pity that the younger generation had little knowledge of what Estonia had gone through, and how its identity had developed over time. Some major intellectual figures, who had upheld this identity, were growing old, unnoticed by part of the younger generation. Conscious that this rift was widening, I thought it might be worthwhile for the upcoming generations, as well as for readers outside Estonia, to read about the experience of those who had been engaged in the recovery of independence.
I started writing a synopsis for this book. I discussed it in various circles, and soon engaged in more precise planning, mainly with the help of three people: Antoine Chalvin (a Frenchman who was then teaching in Tartu, now a professor of Finnish and Estonian languages and literature in Paris), Lore Listra (director of the Estonian Institute) and Tiia Uibo (then a colleague at the French Embassy). Because I could see that one of the main challenges to Estonian society was the lack of interaction between Estonian speakers and Russian speakers, right from the start I wanted the book to come out in two editions, one for each language.
I met an editor who was willing to go along with my project, Ly Aunaste at Avita, the publishing house in Tallinn , whose manager Aivar Leštšinski was also of great help. The Estonian edition came out in 2001 (and a second printing in 2002), and the Russian edition a few months later. The French edition, with Antoine Chalvin’s decisive contribution (including some of the translation), was published at the end of 2001 by L’Harmattan in Paris . And finally, the English edition, the translation of which I oversaw in detail, was published in 2004 by Rodopi ( Amsterdam & New York ). As the Estonian, Russian and French editions came out while I was still the French ambassador in Estonia , they carry my pen name “A. Bertricau”, but the English edition is under my own name.
Among the co-authors of the book, three have now passed away: Lennart Meri, the former Head of State, who wrote the preface; Ea Jansen, the historian, who wrote about “The National Awakening of the Estonian Nation”; and Jaan Kross, the most widely translated and acclaimed contemporary Estonian author, who died in December 2007. Toomas Hendrik Ilves, who was then a member of the Riigikogu (Estonian parliament) and later of the European Parliament, is now the President of Estonia. Mart Laar, who was Prime Minister at the time, remains one of the most able political figures in Northern Europe. I feel that the book we made together, with these and others, to whom I remain indebted, certainly allowed me to have a personal link with Estonia .
Let me add a remark: other countries, other languages and cultures have known the same plight as Estonia , and I’m sure their narrative is just as compelling. Similar books as mine have been published in other parts of Eastern and central Europe , and together they form a corpus of testimony which can be usefully consulted by the younger generation, as well by readers from other countries.
Would you please share with us your experience about the country and the people?
The single most striking thing I discovered during my years in Estonia was the sheer steadfastness in so many people, regarding their language, culture and identity. There’s one question I would ask people who were not connected with each other: “When did you realize that Estonia ’s return to independence could be more that just a dream, perhaps even a reasonable perspective?” And I was surprised that in so many cases, the answer was quite similar: ever since childhood, or since a quiet walk in the forest with a close relative or a trusted teacher, he or she had felt all along that Estonia would retrieve its independence, and it was only a matter of time… I think this says a lot about the people and their country.
You were posted to Estonia when that country was preparing to join the EU and NATO. How do you explain the success of Estonia in these structures?
At the time, some Estonian politicians assigned very separate aims to these two processes: they were convinced that “joining the EU is all about economics, whereas joining NATO is about security and defence”.
Things have changed since then, and some of these politicians realize that the process of integration within the EU has been a global undertaking which has shaped not only the economic structure of Estonia, but is also having an impact on social choices, education, research, energy policy, monetary policy, justice and home affairs, but also on the security dimension.
Being a member of NATO has given most Estonians the sense that their survival as a nation is now meshed into a wider collective security arrangement. Russia remains the main preoccupation, whether it is voiced or not, and this no doubt explains why most Estonian security experts consider the NATO “umbrella” as the ultimate insurance for their country.
But the common element in both the EU integration and in joining NATO is that, perhaps for the first time in its history, Estonia has the feeling that its future is no longer totally dependent upon the domestic or foreign policy of this or that large neighbour. Belonging to NATO is reassuring, and belonging to the EU is shaping Estonia ’s future in a very comprehensive way.
Could you describe Tartu , an important Estonian city, through your experience?
The name “Tartu” brings back fond memories: the annual ceremony at the University, when the then “Rector Magnificus” Jaak Aavikso (now Estonia’s Defence Minister) would deliver his rousing speech, in the presence of the then Head of State and no less eloquent Lennart Meri; the libraries and the cafés where we would seek refuge from the cold, and spend time discussing with students; the walk along the river, which afforded a view on the newer side of the town; the sense that if tradition and the collective memory had been suppressed in Estonia during many decades, Tartu was certainly one of the places where these values had been upheld, sometimes at great personal cost.
I also remember several conversations with the then Mayor of Tartu, Andrus Ansip, now Estonian Prime Minister, and had been struck by his ability to seek out, with quite limited resources, viable solutions for the sustainable future of his city. I remember animated discussions with Peeter Tulviste, about the sociological changes of his country. I remember visiting the prototype of universal intellectual, Jaan Kaplinski, in his house in the area. I remember several meetings with the poet, writer and translator, Ain Kaalep, who would tell me, in sober terms, how intellectuals in Estonia had kept the flame burning.
Shortly before leaving Estonia, I came back to say goodbye to Ain Kaalep, and on this occasion he gave me his manuscript translation of Paul Eluard’s “Liberté”: this poem was written in commemoration of the French “résistance”, but I found it very moving to read, in Estonian, Ain Kaalep’s terse rendering in his own language, which applied so exactly to Estonia’s own case. Here is just the last verse:
Ja üheainsa sõna jõul
Algan uuesti oma elu
Sündisin et sind tunda
Et sind hüüda
Vabadus
(AND HERE’S MY ROUGH TRANSLATION INTO ENGLISH)
AND BY THE POWER OF ONE WORD
I BEGIN LIFE ANEW
I WAS BORN TO KNOW YOU
AND TO CALL OUT YOUR NAME
LIBERTY
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