バルト3国の諜報部員が語るロシアの実態

TLに流れてきた連ツイがとても良い内容だったので


『SPY×FAMILY』はともかく(私の知らない漫画)、ひと月先に文庫化されるイェール大学のスナイダー教授『ブラッドランド』に書かれているレベルの予備知識があるなら、ストンと腑に落ちるコラムでしょう。ですので、スナイダー『ブラッドランド』を一読することを強くオススメします。
更に現代ロシアを理解するという点で、今年始めに邦訳が出たラリュエル『ファシズムとロシア』も大いに役立つでしょう(スナイダー教授と視点が少し異なって参考になる)。

★★ティモシー・スナイダー『ブラッドランド――ヒトラーとスターリン 大虐殺の真実』(文庫版:上巻文庫版:下巻
 
(※文庫版の書影がまだ出てきてないので単行本の画像を使ってますが↑リンク先は文庫版です)

マルレーヌ・ラリュエル『ファシズムとロシア』

あとはカミル・ガレエフ[@kamilkazani]がTw投稿した論考の数々↓に機械翻訳を使ってでも目を通していれば完璧かと。


早くからロシアの敗北を予見していた彼の分析、とりわけ歴史の記述は真に目からウロコです。

本来ならツイート埋め込み機能を使うべきでしょうが、ツイ主のせどう[@IchikaPlus1]さんが


と物騒な?ことを仰ってましたので、テキスト平文で引用します。
せどうさん、和訳と要約どうもありがとうございます
m(_ _)m
あと「『こう』じゃないロシア人もたくさんいる」は私も100%同意で、例えばバイエルン州立歌劇場の前任GMDで現ベルリン・フィル首席指揮者のキリル・ペトレンコは2月24日の侵略開始後すぐに批判の声明を出してましたし(弟子筋にはバイロイト音楽祭史上初の女性指揮者としてデビューしたオクサーナ・リーニフのようなウクライナ人もいる)、様々な形でレジスタンスしてる人たちが少なからずいたりします。割合として極僅かなだけで・・・

・エストニアの国防諜報員Toots。職歴30年のうち半分は対ロシアスパイ対策部。元上司でのちの部下がロシアからのスパイだった。😱同僚の一人はロシアにさらわれている。
・「エストニア人であることの強みは常に冷静であること。ロシア人は違う。感情的で、すぐに苛立ち、混乱する。」→

→・「ロシア人に論理は効かない。」
・「状況が現実に悪くなるまで大丈夫なふりをする。」
・Tootsはロシア系が大半の東部出身
・「彼らのなかに明確なボスがいないとそこは無法地帯となる」
・「感情的だが同時に野心家で冷酷、残忍。」彼らの性質を考えればブチャの虐殺も驚くことではない。→
→・バルト三国の諜報員たちは彼らの性質をよく知っている。WWⅡの間もその前も、ロシア人は同じようにその地でふるまって来た。ずっと同じ。欧米の人間はそれを認識していない。
・「欧米は幸運だ。我々がロシアと彼らの間にいるから。彼らは多くを忘れ、ロシア人を同類だと思っている。」→
・ロシア語話者の多い地区で育ったラトビア国家保衛省長官Mežviets「私はロシアのメンタリティを毎日目撃していた」「人々が『これはロシアの戦争ではなくプーチンの戦争だ』と言い始めた時、我々は心配になった」→
・エストニアの国内保衛省長官Sinisaluも同意。「国は洗脳できるだろうが、極端な排他主義は人々の中にもともとある」
・リトアニアの国家保衛部門長Jauniškisはソビエト時代に従軍経験あり。他の兵士は常に優位に立とうと喧嘩を売ってきた。「従えば奴隷にされるから戦った。」→
→・「抵抗すれば尊敬を得ることもある。」喧嘩の傷跡は数えきれない。若い人員に、『ロシアは強さしか認識しないし尊敬しない』ことを教える際に使っている。
・バルト三国の士官たちは皆、『ウクライナでの戦争はプーチンの戦争ではない』ことに同意。残虐性はプーチン個人のものではない。→
→・強姦、殺人、えぐり取られた目、首つり、燃やされた遺体は、ロシアの指導者によって採用された特別な手法ではなく、ロシア全体のもの。これを欧米の仲間は信じられない。
・とある諜報員A「彼らはもっと純真で楽観的」B「『ロシアは信用できない』と説明しても彼らは信じようとしない」→
→・欧米人でもロシアを十分に体験した人員は理解しているが、政治家や国外諜報員たちのトップは分かっていない。
・彼らはロシア全体の一般論にするのを避けてプーチンだけの所為にし、自国と同じ性質があるはずと信じようとする→
→・バルト三国の見解はまるっきり逆。彼らにしてみればウクライナ侵攻は驚きでも何でもない。ロシアの性質を考えれば当然の流れ。(驚きまくってた身としては耳が痛い……)そしれこれはいつかまた繰り返される。→
→・バルト三国の長官たちは皆赤軍で従軍経験あり。当時の同志たちの様子を聞かれて、「白痴と愚かさしかなかった」
・お互いと話すときは英語。ことわざを言い合えるほど流暢でもロシア語は使わない。
・プーチンとその取り巻きに、上流階級で育った欧米のリーダーたちとの共通点はない。→
→・知的で良心的で『まともな』ロシア人も大勢いるが、それは決してロシアの主流ではない。
・ロシアを知りたければモスクワとサンクトに行っても意味なし。そのすぐ外の村では、すべてが壊れかけていても文句を言うだけでそれを直そうともしない社会がある。→
→・『ロシアの人々には、苦痛が普通になっている。』
・パリの人々を革命に駆り立てたような理不尽にも、ロシア人は動かない。
・電気、舗装道路、屋内のトイレすらない村も多い。
・食べ物すら不足するような場所で事業は育たない。
・『強く偉大な国』に対する、ぼんやりとした帰属意識があるだけ→
→・ロシアはWWⅡからまっっったく変わっていない。
・ナチスを理解するのにメルケル元首相やショルツ首相を観察しても意味はないが、プーチンロシアを観察すればWWⅡがわかるほど。
・人々がロシアの蛮行を忘れたのは、たまたまそこにヒトラーナチスという強烈な存在があったから→
→・ウクライナで今日起こっていることは、WWⅡでタリン、リガ、ヴィリニュスで起こったことの繰り返し
・そのくせロシアは『ナチスを亡ぼし、WWⅡに勝利した』ことを(唯一の)誇りとしている【固定ツイのカミルさんスレッド要約参照】→


→・Sinisalu氏「彼らは(WWⅡ時の蛮行の)責任を問われたことがない。それが彼らを無敵だと思い込ませている。」
・WWⅡ時のロシアの戦争犯罪を調べている歴史研究家「過去に起こったことと、今日起こっていることはほとんど変わらない。」→
→・変わったとすればより残酷で粗野になった点
・Mežviets氏「我々のロシアに対する分析は30年間変わらなかった。主軸は『どんな手段を使っても、帝国という立場を取り戻す』というもの」
・歴史家「彼らに国家(外国)という概念はない。あるのは領域と領土だけ」→
→・周りに居るのは家臣か助力者だけ。他に選択肢はありえない
・Mežviets氏「ロシアがソビエトの崩壊を受け入れることは決してない」
・Jauniškis氏「彼らのマインドセットは征服者のそれだ。周りは全員敵」→
→・「不当に扱われ復讐の機会を伺う子供のような精神」
・問:『現代ロシア』のメンタリティのもととなっているものは?
バルト三国長官一同:『イヴァン雷帝』🤯
(500年前に領地拡大成功したサイコメンヘラ皇帝)(『現代の』???)
(確かにやってることまんまだが……)→
→・確かに最近になっても、イヴァン雷帝をロールモデルとする記事が書かれていたりする
・ここ最近になって、過去の紛争や戦争で現代を形作ろうとする動きが激しくなっていた(今日の侵攻の正当性を語るために、遠い過去の戦いを持ち出したり)→
→・領地拡大思想と復讐の精神を煽るために、ロシア諜報FSB職員は特にこの『教育』をしっかりと受けさせられる
・欧米に後れを取っている事実には、ロシア人は「ロシアは特別だ」と考えるか、腹を立てるか、みじめに思うか、または国は略奪されたと信じているかのどれか→
→・とあるロシア人「ロシア人は真実には興味はない。あるのは正義に対してだ。」(その歴史的正義がファンタジーだとしても)
・現代の諜報やプロパガンダは数百年前と同一。シリアとアフガニスタンでの戦争は、その意図と行動は大北方戦争とリヴォニア戦争と同じ→

→・現代ロシア軍の残虐性はスターリンのグラーグ(強制収容所)時代に培われたもので、ランダムな結果なのではなく意図的なもの
・ロシアの厳格な階級社会、多様性への不耐性、限られた情報の中にある独裁主義、そしてその独裁主義を望む大衆(欧米が理解に苦しむ点)は、何世紀も前からそのまま→

→・Sinisalu氏「ロシアの歴史的パターンは暴力だ。そこで人の命に価値はない」
・ロシアの格言「他人を怖がらせるために自分の人間を殴れ」
・ブチャはカティンの再現、オレニフカ刑務所の爆破は1941年に1200人の女性収監者を殺したサンビルの爆破の再現
・今のウクライナは1940年代のバルト三国→
・エストニアの企業家「ロシアにとってwin-winは負けを意味する。交渉の時でさえ勝ち負けが無ければならず、必ず彼らが勝たなければならない」
・ Mežviets氏「彼らにとって外交的な手腕や駆け引きは弱さを意味する。彼らが認識するのは強さだけだが、欧米は自分たちと同じ価値観があると思っている→
→・Jauniškis氏は現代ロシアを中世モンゴルと同列に考えられると。リトアニアはモンゴルに対抗するためにロシアと手を組んだ歴史があるが、ロシアはリトアニアの動向を見て手のひらを返したと考える。「やつらは動物だ」→
→・歴史家「ロシア社会にそんな悪が存在するなど安直に考えたくはない。できればもっと崇高な考えを導きたい。だが単純にそれが真実だ」もちろんこの考え方は政治的には正しくないし、ロシア人すべてが悪人なわけではない。→
→・ロシア社会の人間性を否定したくない人権活動家「ロシアは何世紀にもわたっておとぎ話の中で生きてきた。表現の自由すら享受していない。彼らに一体何を期待できる?」
・あるロシアの劇場監督は反プーチンのリベラルだが、ウクライナ人は『人間』ではないのでクリミア占領は正しいと考えている→
→・ロシアのメンタリティは『特別』。ロシアには独自のルールと価値観がある。
・ロシアのジョークですら欧米では通じない。バルト三国だけが両方で笑える。
・これをプロパガンダの所為にはできない。帝国主義、排他主義、残忍性は、ロシアの教育や子育て、文化、価値観の一部となっている。→
→・1991年にソビエトが解体、バルト三国も独立した。しかしロシアが良い方向に変わると信じたのは欧米だけだった
・当時エストニア政府で働いていたVare氏「最短でも一年後には元のロシアに戻ると思っていた。」それすら楽観的で、たったの数か月後には石油を利用してエストニアを操ろうとしてきた→
→・バルト三国の対諜報部の職員たちはロシアは何も変わらないだろうと予測する
・歴史家「ロシアの学校では、子供たちに『ロシアはバルト三国を一時的に失っただけ』と教えている。誰もロシアのように国を治められないと」ナワリヌイが奇跡的に指導者になってもメンタリティは変わらない。→
→・欧米の望む、『ロシアの平和的な民主主義への移行』は、その歴史とマインドセットと現実を無視した幻想にすぎない
・ウクライナのエストニア大使Kuusk氏はイジュームの集団墓地と拷問部屋を訪れた。「拷問をしていたのは田舎者ではなく、流暢なモスクワorサンクトのアクセントで話していたと」→
→・ウクライナでの完全な敗北だけが、唯一の変化のチャンス
・歴史家「ロシアに影響を及ぼしてきたのはいつだって『力』だ。いくら他に方法があるのではと願っても、ないものはない」
・Jauniškis氏「彼らは他の国からの尊敬を残虐な方法で強制する」→
→・たとえウクライナで負けたとしても、ロシアのメンタリティ自体は変わらない
・Mežviets氏「プーチンが死んでも同じだ。私たちの地域にとっては、指導者が誰であろうと脅威であり続ける」
・ウクライナ侵攻はロシアには変化をもたらさなかったが、欧米のロシアに対する認識はわずかに変わった→
→・だがそれも十分ではない。彼らは人間らしく理解しようとする姿勢を保たなければ欧米人ではないと、「ロシアの一般人に罪はない」と主張する
・Sinisalu氏「『プーチンの戦争』と呼びロシア自体を非難することを避けるというのは馬鹿なこと」
・ロシアで革命が起こったのは、戦争に負けた時だけ→
→・バルト三国でもロシアを『体験』した世代は老いて、ロシア語を話せる人口も減ってきている。言葉がわからなければ微妙なニュアンスを拾えなくなる。しかし前の世代の体験は失われない。
・戦争が始まってからバルト三国でのロシア諜報活動は僅かに弱まったが、それも一時的なものだろう→
→・ロシアのバルト三国における諜報活動は、道具が変わっただけで方針自体は変わっていない
・Toots氏が過去15年間で捕まえたロシア人スパイの数は21人。すべて起訴され有罪。「年内にまたニュースがあるだろう」→
→・Jauniškis氏「いつかロシア人は自分たちが何をしたのかに気が付くのだろう。その罪の意識は耐え難いものになるはずだ」→
→(補足的な記事の著者の話)エストニアに帰って数日後は曾叔母の誕生日。百歳だがとても活発。だが戦争が始まってから眠れなくなったと。彼女の子供が言うには、「また強姦魔たちが帰ってくるのではないかと恐れている」のだと……【記事要約以上】

 

英語記事↓

„Human Life Has No Value There“: Baltic Counterintelligence Officers Speak Candidly About Russian Cruelty
【EESTI EKSPRESS:Eero Epner(Translated by Adam Cullen) 2022年10月17日】

The photo on Aleksander Toots’s slightly tattered old work ID is faded and worn. He looks much younger than he does now: short-haired and sharp-featured. Next summer will be his 30th at the Estonian Internal Security Service (abbreviated KAPO in Estonian). How he plans to mark the occasion, I do not know. He spends most of his free time out in nature and working with his hands, though he won’t say where. „Let’s not try to profile me,“ he responds with a cool smirk when I ask what his favorite book is. „Let’s not make things easier for the adversary.“

Toots has been dealing with Russia for 15 of the last 30 years. He’s endeavored to predict its next steps, offered a surprise or two of his own, and uncovered Russian spies, several of whom were colleagues. He doesn’t reply at first when I ask what he felt the first time he interrogated Aleksei Dressen, a former superior and later subordinate. They greeted each other in the mornings, waved goodbye when they left for the day, and perhaps kicked the wheels of their vehicles while chatting in the parking lot. All until it was revealed that Dressen was a traitor working for Russia.

„Details,“ Toots says tersely when I ask what gave Dressen away. But when they were ultimately sitting across from each other and his recent colleague, maybe even somewhat of a friend, was in handcuffs, Toots says he felt no great emotion.

„There are no hot-headed decisions.“

He only displays irritation once in our meetings – when I ask if it might be possible to interview Eston Kohver, his colleague abducted by Russian intelligence. Reservation isn’t a mere character trait: it is Toots’s strategic weapon against Russia.

As Russian intelligence agents have confided in him: „[Estonians’] advantage is that you’re all levelheaded.“ Dressen also hoped that Toots would show emotion during his interrogation, and lost his footing when it failed to come to fruition. They don’t know how to keep it in check. Or they simply can’t. They become emotional, testy, irate, confused. At some point, Russian agents lose control and are unable to do anything about it – it’s just the way things are. As they admit: „You can’t beat Russia with reason.“

According to Toots, an intrinsic element of Russian society is pokazukha: pretending everything is fine while reality is anything but. It also applies, at least partly, to Russian intelligence, no matter that it’s a powerful system employing thousands.

„Chaos is a trait of Russian culture. There always needs to be a shepherd; otherwise, it’s anarchy,“ remarks Toots, who grew up in the Russian-majority eastern Estonian city of Kohtla-Järve. While discussing Russia, he purposefully uses the word „adversary“ instead of „enemy“, which he believes is unnecessarily charged. When engaged in a struggle with Russia, one can expect them to be excessively emotional, but also relentless. They are great, ambitious, merciless, and most of all, cruel.

Toots wasn’t surprised by the atrocities committed in Bucha. Nor were any other of the counterintelligence agents I interviewed in Estonia, Latvia, or Lithuania. They’re aware of how Russians conducted themselves in the Baltics during the Second World War. Of how they conducted themselves before that. Of how they’ve always behaved. The West lacks such awareness.

„[The West is] fortunate,“ Toots remarks. „We’re a buffer between them and Russia. They’ve forgotten a lot and think Russia is just like them.“

It isn’t. And Putin isn’t the only issue.

„When the war began, we were worried about people saying it was only Putin’s war,“ says Director General of the Latvian State Security Service Normunds Mežviets as we speak in a soundproof office in a featureless building located in a suburb of Riga. His diction is soft, brisk, and punctilious, just like that of your favorite psychiatrist. Russians are no strangers to Mežviets. He grew up among many Russian-speakers and scuffles were an everyday occurrence.

„I witnessed Russian mentality every single day.“

Mežviets’s colleagues in the other Baltic states echo his sentiment.

„Obviously, you can’t abstractly accuse an entire nation,“ says long-time Director General of the Estonian Internal Security Service Arnold Sinisalu. „But a society and a nation constitute a whole. The state may brainwash, but the germ of chauvinism still springs from the people itself.“

When Director of the Lithuanian State Security Department Darius Jauniškis served in the Soviet military, he was constantly confronted by Russian soldiers with an intent to dominate.

„I fought them,“ he says, „because I knew that as soon as you submit to their will, you become their slave. But if you strike back, then you might even earn their trust.“

When I ask how many scuffles he was in, Jauniškis’s hand shifts to reveal a talisman on his wrist. There were many, he says. Very many. The subject isn’t incidental. He uses it as educational material for his younger colleagues, broadening the experience into an analysis of Russia as a whole: they recognize and respect strength alone.

That is precisely how Baltic counterintelligence officers refer to Russia – not ‘it’, but ‘they’. The war in Ukraine is not Putin’s war. The cruelty is not Putin’s. The rapes, murders, gouged eyes, hangings, and burned corpses aren’t special tactics employed by Russia’s leader. It is Russia as a whole.

„The majority of Russians are to blame,“ says Sinisalu.

Western colleagues sometimes have a hard time believing this.

„They’re certainly more naïve and optimistic than we are,“ says one Baltic counterintelligence officer.

„When we tried explaining to our partners that Russia can’t be trusted, they denied it,“ another adds, visibly resentful. Georgia, the Crimea – nothing changed. „And here we are in 2022.“ Several interviewees imply that they’ve had to tirelessly remind Western partners of the dangers of such naiveté.

Toots says that to be fair, he can’t find any fault with Western intelligence services. „They know Russia well enough.“ In Europe and further afield, agents who are fully immersed in Russian matters echo a common understanding of the country and the threat it poses.

However, problems persist among politicians and heads of foreign intelligence agencies. Denial. Dismissal. Reducing everything to Putin and his closest circle because one shouldn’t pigeonhole all Russians or believe there exist common national characteristics.

Baltic counterintelligence officers’ conclusions about Russia are obverse. As one remarks: „Our understanding has been the polar opposite of the West’s.“ We coinhabit the world with a country whose citizenry primarily adheres to a code of force. The war in Ukraine was not a surprise, but rather a logical progression. And at some point, it will repeat again.

First-Hand Experience

Those whom I interview were born in the late 1960s or early 1970s. They grew up among so many Russians that when they speak rapidly, several, including Toots, reveal a slight Russian accent. They were all conscripted into the Red Army.

„Total idiocy and foolishness,“ Sinisalu grunts when asked about his former officers and fellow conscripts. Toots witnessed dedovshtshina, the violent subjugation of junior soldiers, on a daily basis.

When the heads of Baltic counterintelligence meet, they converse in English even though Russian could also serve as a common language. Each is so fluent in the latter that when Sinisalu or Toots begins quoting a Russian saying, the other finishes for them. One of Putin’s remarks from 1999 comes up: „We’ll whack them, even in the outhouse.“ They point out the use of delinquent Russian street slang.

According to the directors, the turn of phrase isn’t incidental. It’s a layer of diction that can be used to interpret the fundamental patterns of behavior practiced by Putin and his retinue. It holds no commonality with Western leaders who wore formal uniforms at private schools, went on to study political philosophy at Harvard, and know where to set a salad fork. Russia has, of course, no shortage of fascinating, intelligent, heartfelt, and genuine people, but they do not determine the main tone of Russian society.

„If you want to know Russia, then don’t go to St. Petersburg or Moscow,“ says Toots. He once spent six months in Kronstadt, a stone’s throw from St. Petersburg but filled with an entirely different breed of people. There, no one removed their hats at the table or knew a single thing about etiquette. Everything was decaying and chair legs were on the verge of snapping off beneath you, but no one lifted a finger to fix anything, simply sighing „Ah…“ and giving a dismissive a wave of the hand. The atmosphere was infused with something intrinsically foreign to the West – Russian society is accustomed to suffering. An injustice that sends Parisians out onto the streets won’t make a single resident of Novosibirsk scratch the back of their necks.

„You can’t understand Russia through books or analyses,“ Jauniškis adds. „You have to live there a while.“

None of the counterintelligence directors have visited Russia in a very long time; at least not officially. Nevertheless, they’ve seen their share of Russian villages that lack reliable electricity, navigable streets, or even indoor toilets. True, they rarely have business to conduct in such areas, where even food is scarce. There’s only ambiguous pride of belonging to such a great – and strong – nation.

One acquaintance who has frequented smaller Russian settlements gave a vivid description of common local history museums: one room covering a period that stretches from the Paleolithic to 1941, followed by five rooms covering the years 1941–1945. The Second World War. Victory over the Nazis. The sole source of honor in such humble environs, where an expanse of endless mud begins at the museum door and a local drunk is curled up against the wall, dozing like a sleepy housefly.

There are those who say the Baltic states’ true practical knowledge of Russia began only in the 1940s.

„Look at what they did in the Second World War,“ Sinisalu says when we discuss the mass graves, rapes, and deportations in Ukraine. „It’s the exact same.“ Sinisalu’s maternal grandparents were deported to Siberia, where both perished. What’s happening in Ukraine today has been seen and endured before in Tallinn, Riga, and Vilnius.

„Everything comes back full-circle; nothing changes,“ a 90-year-old former dentist says to me at my grandfather’s birthday celebration. My grandfather is turning 96 and a few months later, he sends me a draft article calling on people to stop using expressions like „the Soviet regime“, as he believes there was no Soviet Union. „After the breakup of the 20th-century Russian empire, only those who carried out orders were declared villains,“ he writes angrily. In his view, Russian society as a whole carries the responsibility.

„There are no separate nations or distinct societies,“ argues a vehemently anti-war Russian acquaintance. „I believe that so-called nations are an instrument used by giant imperialist conglomerates fighting amongst themselves in Ukraine for global domination, all at the expense of the lives and destinies of working-class people – what ‘nation’ is there to speak of…“

However, officers of the Baltic security services do not describe Russia’s imperialism and brutality as a military tactic, but a rampant social norm.

„I believed that their mentality changed over the years and they had a reckoning after the war. That would have been normal,“ Jauniškis says. „But I was mistaken:“

Indeed, how could Russia have any reckoning when the country has never been held responsible? The Nazis temporarily rose to the top of the cruelty ranking during the Second World War, which has caused people to forget Russia’s atrocities.

„They’ve never been held accountable,“ Sinisalu says. „And that has made them feel invincible.“

Empire

I’m not told his full name, even after asking. All I know is his first name, that he is a historian, and that he works with KAPO’s spies and detectives. The historian, let’s call him Peeter, is tasked with helping to unravel crimes committed during the Soviet occupation of the 1940s and later. As Russia stands at the very center of the Soviet Union’s horrible deeds, they greatly help to understand the country’s actions today. No one would use Angela Merkel or Olaf Scholtz to improve their analyses of Nazi history, but nothing in Russia has changed.

Peeter studies how the Soviet deportations were planned and the partisan Forest Brothers tracked down and executed, as well as what became of the survivors. He has searched for secret KGB cemeteries and combed through archives to find proof of the innumerable human-rights crimes committed during the Russian occupation.

He sometimes confers directly with Sinisalu, whom he calls an „above-average amateur historian“.

„Over the last few years, history has been repeating much more vividly than we could have ever expected,“ Peeter says. Every day, he leaves the archives, reads the news, and sees no great difference between what happened then and what is happening today. „It seemed like they’d retired their tactics, but they’re coming back in the exact same form as before.“

Even so, he was surprised when the first reports of Russia’s brutalities in Ukraine began to emerge.

„I thought they’d go right back to their old rhetoric, but the past manifesting anew in a cruder and more robust way was unexpected,“ Peeter remarks. Deportations. Rapes. Alleged struggles with hostile elements, but actual executions of children

In Russia, history is more alive and present than anywhere else.

„Our assessments of Russia haven’t changed in the last 30 years,“ says Mežviets. The chief analysis is this: Russia wishes to regain its status as an empire by any means.

„To them, there are no states, only zones and territories,“ Peeter explains. Russia sees itself as being surrounded by vassals and ancillaries – there is no third option.

„They’ll never come to terms with the breakup of the USSR,“ Mežviets says. As Russia’s leaders themselves have declared: Russia ends where it is stopped.

„It’s a conqueror’s mindset,“ Jauniškis says. „Everyone around them are enemies.“

Official polling paints a clear picture of Russian society’s true convictions.

„They come off as children who have been wronged and are now seeking revenge,“ Jauniškis adds. He claims the Soviet way of thinking is so deeply embedded in Russian society that even their manner of resistance still dates to the 1970s: people sit in their kitchen, drink vodka, and complain, but as soon as they leave their apartments, they report to their jobs and work obediently till evening. Nevertheless, Mežviets says this conqueror’s mentality is no mere Soviet remnant, but extends far deeper.

Surprisingly, the heads of all three Baltic counterintelligence agencies answer with the same name when I ask about the origins of Russia’s present-day mentality: Ivan the Terrible. A ruler who lived almost 500 years ago, conducted successful military campaigns aimed at territorial expansion, and stood out for his exceptional cruelty, even slaying his own son in a fit of rage. Russia’s modern-day brutality and expansionism is a carbon copy of Ivan the Terrible’s murderous imperialism.

Regarding the former grand prince of Moscow as the root of modern Russia isn’t a mere figment of Baltic counterintelligence’s imagination. Peeter recently read a lengthy Russian propaganda article lauding Ivan the Terrible as a genius and role model. Russia has increasingly used historical events to justify its present actions, erecting, for example, monuments with a White Army and Red Army soldier standing side by side and a plaque reading: „Both fought for Russia.“ Peeter almost snorts and laughs when he tells me.

The pair is absurd in a historical context, but anything is possible in Russia. Imperialism, perpetual expansion coupled with nationalism, centering Russians themselves in everything – there, such absurd bedfellows are able to nestle together and make ordinary development impossible.

Sinisalu isn’t the only history buff in Estonian counterintelligence: Toots can trace his genealogy back 300 years and is uncharacteristically enthusiastic when he starts telling me about his ancestors. One of his grandmothers descended from aristocratic Baltic Germans and distrust is no unfamiliar topic: a rift formed in the family when she decided to marry an Estonian, who were simple peasants at the time. Toots has carefully preserved every scrap of correspondence related to the story.

Russian intelligence officers are no less interested in history, albeit a warped version.

„Over the last few years, they’ve vigorously emphasized shaping the present through history,“ says Mežviets. And to a Russian intelligence officer, „history“ primarily means conflicts and war. Long-ago clashes are used to justify fighting today, and according to Peeter, Russian intelligence officers receive „a special dose“ of these lessons, fueling not only their desire to expand, but to exact retribution.

Disappointment of falling behind the West has caused Russians to either ramp up national exceptionalism or take offense, grow embittered, and believe that the country has been robbed of something. As one Russian acquaintance tells me, „Russians aren’t interested in truth, but justice.“ No matter that this historical justice is nothing but a paper-thin fantasy.

One needn’t dig very deep into colonial history to understand modern-day France. Russia is a different case. All is but a continuation set to the rhythm of the past. Today’s Russian security forces are astonishingly identical to their predecessors established centuries ago, and even the country’s primary propaganda methods were perfected in tsarist times. Russia’s wars in Syria and Afghanistan were conducted the same way as the Great Northern War (1700–1721) and the Livonian War (1558–1583). Tanks have replaced swords and soldiers wear combat boots instead of spurs, but their intentions, behavior, and perhaps even some of their equipment are centuries old.

The cruel culture pervading Russia’s modern army was entrenched during the era of Stalin’s Gulags. It isn’t random, but systematic. Rigid hierarchies, an inability to account for variation, autocrats locked in information bubbles, and, at the same time, a population yearning for autocracy – perhaps the hardest aspect for Westerners to wrap their heads around – have existed in Russia for centuries and will only persist.

Baltic counterintelligence directors don’t only speak about Putin, but recall the reign of Peter the Great, who ordered all Swede-supporting Russians to be executed. Again, Sinisalu and Toots chime in together with a Russian maxim: „Beat your own to frighten others.“

„Violence is a historical pattern in Russia, and that will not change,“ Sinisalu calmly adds. „Human life has no value there.“

The massacre in Bucha wasn’t unique, but a repetition of Katyn. The detonation of the Olenivka prison was a copy of the explosion in Sambir, which killed 1,200 female prisoners in 1941. Nothing has come as a surprise for anyone familiar with Ukrainian history, as Ukraine isn’t simply Ukraine – it is also Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania in the 1940s.

They Aren’t Like Us

„They only respect force,“ says Jauniškis, „and if you answer theirs with your own, then you might even become friends.“ The principle is diametrically opposed to the suit-and-tie diplomacy and ordinary negotiations to which the West is accustomed.

„For Russia, both sides winning equals a loss,“ remarks an Estonian entrepreneur who has organized complex business transactions with Russians for decades. „They need for there to always be winners and losers, even when negotiating.“ And only they may come out on top.

„There, diplomacy is a sign of weakness,“ says Mežviets. „Russia only recognizes force. It’s hard for the West to understand, as Westerners hold different values and believe that others do as well.“

Jauniškis compares contemporary Russian society to the medieval Mongols. Though Lithuania once joined forces with Russian princes to counter the Mongolian hordes, he feels that Russia switched sides given the behavior of its officers and soldiers alike. „They’re animals,“ he frankly states.

„I don’t want to think so primitively; to believe such evil could truly exist in Russian society,“ Peeter tells me. „I’d like to believe something nobler. But it’s simply the truth.“

Jauniškis is well aware that such statements are not politically correct. It has nothing to do with national characteristics or all Russians being bad eggs, of course.

„For generations and generations, people in Russia have been born into fairy tales where life is terrible, and they’ve almost never enjoyed the freedom of expression, so what else can you expect?“ says a human rights activist who refuses to strip the entire population of its human face. We must speak not of Russians, but Russian society.

Constantly, we’re told that Russia is composed of ingredients like Chekhov, borsht, generosity, fraternity, piousness, and Dostoyevsky. But let us recall what Dostoyevsky wrote: a Russian can only operate in radicals, being radically good or radically evil. One of his protagonists allows a „thoroughly native object to be seen – an enormous fist sinewy, knotted, and overgrown with a sort of reddish fuzz, and it became evident that should this profoundly national object descend upon anything it would leave nothing after it but a damp spot“.

Sinisalu is an avid reader of Lyudmila Ulitskaya and watches all her interviews. He was initially surprised that although the writer heatedly opposes the war, she didn’t leave Russia before it broke out. „But, well, then I took a deeper look and realized she’s not a real Russian, but a Jew.“ And what do they say about Jews in Russia? As one of Sergei Dovlatov’s characters is told: „I’d give a dozen Ukrainians for one Jew.“

Contempt for Ukraine isn’t just one of Putin’s delusions – its roots stretch much deeper. Before interviewing a well-known Russian theater director, I was warned he is generally a liberal anti-Putinist but believes that Russia occupying the Crimea was the right move, as Ukrainians „aren’t human“.

When discussing Russia, Jauniškis repeatedly uses the words „unique mentality“. Russia does not belong to our ecosystem. It has its own set of rules and values. Even the jokes are different. Baltic counterintelligence officers often try to tell their Western colleagues Russian jokes, but fail to get a laugh because they can’t see how such things could be funny. Only those who have been raised in the Baltic sphere can laugh at both the anecdotes told here and those told in the West.

„It’d be overly simplistic to attribute the Russian mentality to propaganda,“ says Jauniškis. „Imperialism, chauvinism, brutality – they’re a part of Russian education, upbringing, and culture, but are also part of their values. And it’s been that way for centuries.“ Alas, neither Jauniškis nor any other Baltic counterintelligence officer I interview believes it can change.

Nothing Changes

When the Baltic states regained their independence in 1991, Russia also became temporarily more democratic. Elections were seemingly held, leaders spoke of opening up, and everything appeared to be changing for the better. But only the West believed Russia had taken a turn.

„When we made our plans, we assumed that Russia would go back to being its old self and the empire would return at least a year later,“ said Raivo Vare, who served as Minister of State at the time. He’s had a lifelong interest in Russia and lived there for 17 years. „Practical experience“ was the basis for the assessment.

„Alas, we were overly optimistic,“ Vare adds. It only took a few months before Russia began manipulating Estonia again, this time with oil.

Everyone who works for a Baltic counterintelligence agency asserts that nothing will change.

„In Russian schools, they teach children that the Baltic states have only been lost temporarily,“ Peeter remarks. He wraps his hands around his coffee mug before continuing. „Pushkin can’t lead a country like Russia.“ Peeter doesn’t believe anything would improve even if Aleksei Navalny were, by some miracle, to become Russia’s leader. „The mentality is the same. There would need to be a total purge, but that won’t happen.“ Russia’s youth have abandoned hope, the state apparatus is massive, protests lead nowhere, and all the West’s long-held hopes for a peaceful democratic transition are utterly naïve, overlooking Russian history, its mindset, and reality.

Just recently, Estonian Ambassador to Ukraine Kaimo Kuusk stood at the edge of the mass graves and visited the former torture chambers in Izum. He was told that the Russian torturers weren’t yokels, but spoke in elegant urban St. Petersburg or Moscow accents. Russia’s total defeat in Ukraine is the sole opportunity for change.

„Historically, force has always had an effect on Russia,“ Peeter says. „No matter how much you wish there was another solution, there isn’t.“

„At the moment, I can’t think of any force that could spread democratic values in Russia,“ says Jauniškis. „They demand the respect of every other country and exact it through brutal compulsion.“

Mežviets presses his palms together and dispassionately lists the bullet points of Latvian counterintelligence’s strategic assessment. Russia will not conquer Ukraine. Putin’s mentality will begin to shift, but no one can say when. It depends not only on himself or Russia, but on the West’s level of activity. Here, Mežviets briefly pauses.

„Nevertheless, Russia’s mentality will not change,“ he concludes. „Not even Putin’s death will change anything. To our region, Russia will always be a threat, and not only because of its leaders.“

The directors of all three Baltic counterintelligence agencies perceive that Russia’s invasion of Ukraine did not herald a change in the former, but it certainly did in the West. Now, Western politicians are gradually starting to comprehend that Russia cannot be treated the same way as other states, though it is a very fine line to tread. People still refer to „Putin’s war“. They emphasize that „ordinary Russians“ should not be persecuted. They assert that we must remain humanist and understanding, for otherwise we would not be European.

It’s a contradictory cocktail that requires, in the name of Western values, convincing ourselves that Ukrainian corpses are merely the act of a crazed war-waging fanatic, not the outcome of a much broader, tenacious mindset that has gone unpunished for centuries. Many are prepared to allow Putin to save face, no matter that the cost is Ukrainian bodies with nooses tied around their necks and their faces removed.

Of course, Russia isn’t the only country that proceeds from a historical narrative.

„Roosevelt was also naïve,“ says Sinisalu, noting how the former president sacrificed the Baltic states in an effort to win over Stalin as an ally. He recalls the indignation that erupted in American audiences after watching a Latvian film that compared communists to Nazis. „The West has shown a lot of cynical self-interest,“ says Sinisalu. „The political leadership always makes the rules: you have to keep communicating with Russia somehow.“ When I ask what feelings the West’s approach elicits, he shrugs. „What could they be? Not positive, in any case.“

Sinisalu acknowledges that attitudes in the West have improved since the beginning of the war, but not enough. He calls any references to „Putin’s war“ or suggestions that Russia should avoid humiliation „a stupid thing to say“. Being well-versed in history, he knows all too well that revolutions have only happened in Russia after a war was lost.

It’s possible that the Baltic state security agencies will soon lose their exact knowledge of Russian society: younger generations have had contact with local Russian speakers but not Russia proper, which is something entirely different. It’s not a question of ethnic nature, but nurture. Today’s Baltic youth generally do not speak Russian, cannot pick up on nuances, and may err in the details.

„I’m a relic,“ says Toots.

Will the new generation bring naivete? I ask.

„No, on the contrary,“ Jauniškis responds. „They have the experience of the generations that came before them.“

Russia’s espionage in the Baltic states has slightly weakened since the war began, but my interviewees believe it is only temporary.

„My job has been relatively routine for the last 15 years,“ Toots casually remarks. He calls catching the adversary’s spies „assembly-line work“ and his own profession a „lifestyle“. There haven’t been any shifts on a larger scale, he says – the only surprises are tactical in nature.

When I interviewed Toots early in the summer of 2021, he spoke about Russia’s efforts to spread influence in schools and transit businessmen who were vying for better ties to the colossal empire. A year later, everything has changed. The adversary’s tools have changed, but vigilance is still crucial. „If you go into anything expecting them to be just like us, then you’re setting yourself up for disappointment.“

During the Soviet occupation, Toots spent time working in a missile division stationed in Ukraine. Once, they were ordered to construct a large, paved launch pad. They were supplied with no gravel, asphalt, or a single piece of equipment. They didn’t even have vodka that could be traded for supplies. Against all odds, it was finished two days later. The division stole the steamroller and scraped the rest of the materials together from who-knows-where.

„You’ve got to be creative,“ is all he says.

The weekend after the invasion of Ukraine, Toots was scrolling through Soviet propaganda posters from the Second World War and came up with an idea. He called a few colleagues, had some quick discussions, and was sending files to a print house by Sunday evening. Several days later, posters appealing for tips and warning of possible recruitment attempts by Russian intelligence officers were put up at Estonia’s border checkpoints. How successful was the campaign? I ask.

„I have a selective memory,“ he replies with a smirk, though he acknowledges an astonishing number of tips poured in.

Toots postpones one of our meetings by several weeks.

„Toots isn’t here,“ is all the KAPO press representatives will tell me.

„He’s busy in Narva,“ Sinisalu adds tersely. That’s to be expected. He was on alert in Eastern Estonia – his childhood stomping grounds – while a Soviet-era tank was moved from a pedestal in Narva to an open-air museum.

Toots isn’t particularly agitated when he returns. Everything went according to plan, which doesn’t mean it was easy. Apparently, Russian intelligence wasn’t very active during the contentious removal. KAPO did, however, had to employ the only means of quelling possible unrest: semi-forcibly bringing in certain „necessary individuals“.

It’s possible that Toots put on a Russian-language record when he got home from Narva. He’s a fan of Russian music and would gladly talk to colleagues about Kino or Akvarium, though there are more historians than music aficionados in their ranks. We meet a total of three times and Toots speaks about Russia at length, but barely says a word about himself.

„Maybe these are the last interviews I’ll ever give,“ he says.

Over the last dozen years, Toots’s unit has caught and arrested 21 Russian spies, each of whom was found guilty. I suspect he’s hinting at another capture as we conclude our conversation and he says: „Just wait a bit. There’ll be news before the year is over.“

Lithuanian counterintelligence doesn’t make a similar promise, but there is no shortage of Ukrainian flags on lapels in Vilnius. A few weeks after the invasion, Jauniškis’s father said he would have never believed he’d see another war in his lifetime.

„One day, Russians will wake up and realize what they’ve done,“ Jauniškis asserts. „And their guilt will be excruciating.“

When I leave the Latvian VDD headquarters and am returned the pens that were confiscated from me, I ask the security guard if work has been busier than usual. He nods, but doesn’t say a word.

I drive back to Estonia. A few days later, we celebrate my great-aunt’s birthday. She’s turning 100. Her children say she’s in good shape, still as sharp as a tack, and climbed up onto the roof to teach the chimneysweep a thing or two just a few years ago. However, she hasn’t slept well since February 24th. Insomnia struck after reading the news of Russia’s invasion of Ukraine.

„She’s afraid,“ say her children. „She’s afraid the rapists will come back again.“