I ACCOMPANIED our cathedral choir to Estonia on 15 February. We were 16 girl choristers and a back row of alto, tenor, and bass; two “choir matrons”, and musicians. Getting from place to place in Tallinn’s old city, we slipped on icy cobblestones, sang at a Sunday mass at Charles Church, and gave concerts in two other long-established Lutheran churches.
Lutheran Germany and Orthodox Russia have both influenced Estonia’s past. Communist atheism was imposed when Estonia was annexed by Russia after the Second World War. Believers were persecuted: almost two-thirds of the Lutheran clergy were murdered or deported. Not surprisingly, by the 1970s, 70 per cent of the population claimed to be atheist.
As we passed the Russian embassy on 16 February, there were billboards, placards, and armed police outside, marking the anniversary of Alexei Navalny’s death (Faith, 14 February). There were also Ukrainian flags. On 17 February, we visited Tallinn’s 315-metre television tower.
As I stood in the viewing gallery, looking over snow-clad forests, I realised that Moscow was as far away from us as Manchester is from London. Meanwhile, American and Russian negotiators were meeting in Riyadh to discuss Ukraine without Ukraine. The next day, President Trump announced his deal with President Putin, along with his demand for first dibs on Ukraine’s earth minerals. As we prepared to go home on the 19th, we heard that President Trump had accused President Zelensky of starting the war and of ruling without a mandate.
At our first concert, in the Holy Ghost Church, Tallin, we had stood at the memorial to those British naval personnel who died fighting the Russian navy between 1918 and 1920. It is identical to a memorial in our own cathedral in Portsmouth. Occasionally, on the streets, I could hear Russian spoken, but the new generation all think of themselves as Estonian. They belong with the EU, NATO, and neighbouring Latvia and Lithuania.
On the flight back, I read a thoughtful essay suggesting that President Trump believed that great nations should be permitted to have their “spheres of influence”; hence his stated intention to buy Greenland and turn Canada into the 51st state. Russia, too, it seems, must be indulged, with Ukraine only the beginning. No wonder the Baltic states are concerned that the day of freedom might be curtailed.
Among the ecumenical guests at the recent meeting of the General Synod was the Lutheran Archbishop of Tallinn, the Most Revd Urmas Viilma, who spoke of his concerns about a potential land war with Russia and the possible need to deploy clergy as chaplains. No one seemed to notice or report this here; but, from the Baltic coast near Tallin, it all seemed very real and urgent — and even more important than our own internal squabbles.