societal security

‘Societal Security’, the Baltic States andEU Integration

GRAEME P. HERD AND JOAN LÖFGREN

ABSTRACTThe concept of ‘societal security’ has been formulated to account forthe phenomenon of societal identity as a source of instability. Thisarticle discusses the concept as articulated by Buzan et al. and appliesit to the post-Soviet experience of the Baltic States. It examines theprocess of Sovietization and the way in which migration and horizon-tal and vertical competition created tensions and stresses betweensocieties in the Baltic States which then carried over into and shapedthe first decade of restored independence. The reasons for and natureof the state-building policies in the three states, particularly the for-mulation of citizenship policies and the emergence of classic societalsecurity dilemmas, are analysed. Within an empirically based section,the authors then explore the way in which the prospect of EuropeanUnion membership has impacted on the societal security sectors inEstonia and Latvia. It argues that the normative power of the EU hasprompted Estonia and Latvia to resolve their societal security dilem-mas in a manner acceptable to the EU, but that the ‘magnetic attrac-tion’ of EU membership increasingly has the power to repel within anemerging post-sovereign security order.

Keywords: citizenship; identity; migration; sovereignty

Introduction

The Baltic States have all sought to ‘return to Europe’ in the post-Soviet period, a project which has been variously conceptualized bythe different political elites of Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania. For some,it has been considered a logical reassertion or restoration of their nat-ural and rightful position within a ‘common European home’.President Vaira Vike-Freiberga of Latvia explicitly underscored thisperception when, following the European Union Helsinki Summit’sdecision in December 1999 to open up negotiations with Latvia, shestated that Latvia had turned its back to and walked away from the

cooperation and conflict Copyright © 2001 NISA. SAGE Publications(London, Thousand Oaks, CA and New Delhi), vol. 36(3): 273–296. ISBN:0010–8367 [200109]36:3; 273–296; 019653

019653.doc 3/8/1 4:07 pm Page 273

http:\\www.sagepub.co.uk

‘post-Soviet realm’ forever, to become a democratic and openEuropean country (LETA news agency, Riga, 15 February 2000).European Commission President Romano Prodi reinforced such aperception in an address to the Lithuanian Seimas (parliament) inFebruary 2000, implicitly stressing the power of normative commonal-ties: ‘When joining the Union, Lithuania will bring with it its love offreedom and democracy, which has been the basis of the restoration ofindependence’ (BNS news agency, Tallinn, 10 February 2000).

For all three Baltic States the security benefits flowing from EUintegration are perceived to be paramount. The strengthening of statesovereignty, territorial integrity, societal, economic, and political stabil-ity would follow EU integration. In the early 1990s the expectationwas that Baltic–EU integration would occur in the medium ratherthan short term. EU integration was thus understood as a medium-term security generator.The integration process itself contains a mutu-ally reinforcing or self-promoting dynamic: both the end goal ofintegration and the process of integration itself enhanced democrati-zation in these states. The very process of integration would hasten thedissemination and assimilation of these security benefits. As politicaland economic integration into EU market-democratic norms andvalues was perceived as the key hurdle to admission in the early 1990s,the societal security sector received the least attention. However, asthe process of EU integration gathered pace and the argument for‘integration to avoid fragmentation’ advanced, the linkages betweenintegration, security and identity were revealed.

Conceptualizing ‘Societal Security’

With the end of the Cold War, scholars analysed the ‘structural trans-formation in European security’ (Wæver et al., 1993: viii), as the state-centric, military-dominated security thinking of Cold War superpowerrivalry became obsolete. Security agendas characterized by newthreats and actors began to dominate and ‘societal security’ emergedas a discrete, although contested, area of study (McSweeney, 1996;Buzan and Wæver, 1997). Leading scholars analysing this ‘novelty inthe field of security studies’ (Wæver et al., 1993: 27) at first perceivedsocietal security as a sector of state security — the state was the corereferent object and society merely one of the five sectors throughwhich it could be threatened.Wæver et al. (1993: 24–5) argued that this

274 cooperation and conflict 36(3)

019653.doc 3/8/1 4:07 pm 74

approach was untenable, as state and society boundaries were rarelycoterminous: state and society could represent two different entities,and referent objects of security could generate different logics (Buzanet al., 1998: 119). Wæver proposed a duality of state and societal secur-ity, arguing that state security concerned threats to sovereignty, whilesocietal security concerned threats to identity. Society could be a sec-tor of state security as well as a referent object in its own right (Wæveret al., 1993: 24–6).

‘Societal security’ concerns ‘identity, the self-conception of com-munities and of individuals identifying themselves as members ofa community’ (Buzan et al., 1998: 119). It refers to ‘identity-basedcommunities’ (Wæver, 1996: 113) and can be understood as ‘identitysecurity’ (Buzan et al., 1998: 120). A society gains its core identitythrough the shared ethnic, religious or national identities of socialgroups living in communities. This shared identity can transcend inter-national state borders, which are fixed to particular state territories.The survival of these communities in the face of perceived (‘con-structed’) potential threats is paramount. The greater the threat to theidentity, the stronger the identity, and the determination to preservethe identity, become: societal security ultimately concerns the survivalof a society. According to Buzan et al.: ‘Societal insecurity exists whencommunities of whatever kind define a development or potentiality asa threat to their survival as a community’ (1998: 119). Communitiesconstruct threats to their identities in a number of different ways.Buzan et al. focused on three key factors that prompt the constructionof a threat to the identity and survival of these societies, namely, migra-tion; horizontal competition; and vertical competition. All three fac-tors can be ‘placed on a spectrum running from intentional,programmatic, and political at one end to unintended and structural atthe other’ (1998: 121).

Migration undermines the unifying effect of strong societal identityas host societies are ‘overrun or diluted’ by the influx of the migrantswho cause a ‘shift in the composition of the population’. This is partic-ularly so if migration is used instrumentally to homogenize minoritysocieties — the Sinofication of Tibet is an example of this process.Horizontal competition entails a transformation in the identity of asociety due to ‘the overriding cultural and linguistic influence froma neighbouring culture’ (Buzan et al., 1998: 121–3). This process canreflect the unintended impact of myriad interactions between large,vital, expanding cultures upon those that are geographically proximate,

herd and löfgren: societal security 275

019653.doc 3/8/1 4:07 pm Page 275

smaller, more conservative and introspective in nature. It can also befuelled by intent, as in the Americanization (‘Mc-Coca-cola-ization’)of Japan or Germany. Vertical competition acknowledges the impactof an ‘intended’ integration process that pulls a culture into a widerdefinition, such as the EU, or a secessionist project that focuses on anarrower definition of identity. These centripetal and centrifugal pro-jects can occur simultaneously: the slogan ‘Scotland: Independentwithin Europe’ is a prime example.

Ole Wæver and other scholars have utilized the concept of ‘securi-tizing’ to refer to security discourses that dramatize an issue as havingabsolute priority, presenting an existential threat (Wæver, 1996: 113;1995). Buzan et al. (1998: 119–40) further developed the notion of‘securitization’, and in his latest work, Wæver clearly associates securi-tization with the identification of a threat (Wæver, 2000: 251–2). Thus,Estonia and Latvia, as this study will argue, ‘securitized’ what they per-ceived to be a threat to their independence following the collapse ofthe Soviet Union, namely, the identity of Soviet-era minorities. AsRussian and Russian-speaking minorities within Estonia and Latviawere widely perceived to constitute a threat to the independence ofthe states, and in particular the dominant position of the titular nation-alities within these states, the societal sector quickly became securi-tized and a classic societal security dilemma emerged.

A societal security dilemma can occur in independence when polit-ical and economic disenfranchisement of new minorities takes place.This can be accompanied by an upsurge of nationalism within themajority society and the passing of legislation which legitimizes thedowngrading of minority political and economic rights. Within thishypothetical context, the majority society might perceive a potentialthreat to their identity through the domination of the political com-munity by ‘colonial’ minorities, hence the necessity of avoiding mod-erate legislation. As a consequence, the restoration and reinforcementof the identity of the majority society is perceived as the weakeningof the minority society’s identity and so promotes greater instabilitywithin the state (Roe, 1999). Moreover:

. . . security action on behalf of identities typically decreases the sense ofsecurity even for those defended because problematizing the security of anidentity and triggering attempts to define and complete it tend to expose itscontingency, incompleteness and impossibility and thus lead to furtheraction. (Wæver, 2000: 253)


019653.doc 3/8/1 4:07 pm Page 276

Sovietization and Societal Security in the Baltic States

Although Stalinization projects were imposed on almost all newly lib-erated territories in Central and Eastern Europe (CEE) after the‘Great Patriotic War’ (1941–45), the three Baltic Soviet SocialistRepublics were more deeply integrated into the Soviet system, com-pletely enmeshed within its state structures. Unlike other CEE satel-lite states, for example, vertical integration was particularly effectiveand the impact of horizontal competition notable. The Baltic Sovietrepublics had no independent armed forces or economic systems, andalthough governmental institutional structures existed, they werelargely emasculated and under the control of a highly centralized andhierarchical political system controlled through Communist Party ofthe Soviet Union structures based in Moscow. The politico-economicinfrastructure had been totally integrated and orientated towards thedominant Soviet modus vivendi. Soviet society was subservient to theparty state, with control maintained more through force and coercionthan negotiation, particularly during the Stalinist era of mobilizationfollowing the Great Patriotic War. However, despite this Stalinistlegacy, by the 1960s and 1970s (during the Brezhnev era of stagnation)the Baltic States had nonetheless achieved a better standard of livingthan other areas of the USSR. They held the unofficial status as themost ‘Western’ and ‘liberal’ of the Soviet Socialist Republics.

The experience of ‘deep’ Sovietization was critical in shaping thepost-independence Baltic political, economic and societal landscape.The Sovietization project was advanced within the Baltic states onthree key fronts. First, it was advanced in political and economic termsthrough the vertical integration of the Baltic States by forced assimi-lation into the Soviet Union with the status of Soviet SocialistRepublics. Second, in psychological, cultural and linguistic terms thisproject was advanced through horizontal competition that aimed topromote the Sovietization/Russification of all aspects of life withinthese republics. In Latvia, for example, only 22% of non-Latvians hadknowledge of Latvian, while 68.7% of Latvians claimed knowledge ofRussian (Chinn and Kaiser, 1996: 115). Mass migration into the threeBaltic States from the rest of the Soviet Republics, particularly theRSFSR, reinforced this interlinked process. As Buzan has argued,these processes were mutually reinforcing: ‘although analytically dis-tinct, in practice these three types of threats to identity can easily becombined’ (Buzan et al., 1998: 121).


019653.doc 3/8/1 4:07 pm Page 277

In terms of migration, the Soviet nationalities policy differed greatlyfrom the earlier period of independence in the Baltics (1918–40), whenpolicy was directed at various minorities, mainly Russians, Poles andJews, whose local culture had been shaped over generations. Yet the‘native’ population, by this time defined more by language than bystandards of ethnic purity, was in the majority: in Estonia 92%; inLatvia 77%; and, in Lithuania 83%. Wartime occupation by Germanand Soviet forces and subsequent reoccupation by Soviet forcesresulted in drastic changes in the ethnic composition of Estonian andLatvian societies. Especially in the latter decades of Soviet occupation,mainly Russian-speaking workers came from other parts of the USSRto work in all-union factories in Estonia and Latvia (Smith, 1996:150–1), much less so in Lithuania. In most other European countries,less than 10% of the population is foreign-born.According to the 1989census, in Estonia and Latvia around 26% of the population wereforeign-born, compared to only 10% in Lithuania (Sipaviciene, 1996:17). The overall changes in the ethnic composition of the Baltic popu-lations are reflected in Table 1.

As is clear from the data, both Estonia and Latvia experienced asevere decline in the relative proportion of the native population by1989. In Latvia, for example, ethnic Latvians were a minority in sevenof the eight largest urban centres. In Lithuania the indigenous popula-tion remained dominant due to a number of factors.These included: anoverall larger population and higher rate of population growth; aslower pace of industrialization, which did not justify such a largemigrant labour force; and availability of labour from rural areas forurban industries. Note also that the majority of non-native residents


TABLE 1Titular/Native Population in the Baltic States (%)

1939(a) 1959 1989(b) 1991 1999(c) 2000(d)

Estonia 92.4 74.6 61.5 62.0 65.2 67.0Latvia 77.0 62.0 52.0 54.0 56.0 57.0Lithuania 83.9 79.3 80.0 81.0 82.0 83.0

(a) Includes data from 1923, 1935, 1939.(b) Figures include migrants’ children born in the Baltic States.(c) ‘Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania in figures 2000’, Statistical Office of Estonia (Tallinn, 2000),

p. 4.(d) Eesti Statistika Aastaraamat 2000 [Estonian Statistical Yearbook 2000] (Tallinn, July 2000).

019653.doc 3/8/1 4:07 pm Page 278

are Russians in Estonia and Latvia, whereas in Lithuania they aredivided mainly between Russian speakers and Poles. The slightincrease in the native population since independence is due in part toemigration, which reached its peak soon after independence (forexample, the departure of military forces and defence industryemployees) and has now dropped to more expected levels.

In the Soviet period the three Baltic States also attracted migrantsbecause their economies were better developed than the rest of theSoviet Union, they offered a higher standard of living, and theyretained their European character (Chinn and Kaiser, 1996: 96). Thegeostrategic environment, the fact that the Baltic region had histori-cally served as a staging-post and launch pad for military attacks uponMuscovy, the Russian Empire and Soviet Union, ensured that therewere high troop concentrations within the Baltic Military District(Viksne, 1995: 44). Demographic change exacerbated the fear thattitular populations were becoming a minority in their own homeland.Between 1959 and 1989 in Latvia, for example, immigration exceededemigration every year. The Russian population increased by 350,000,while the Latvian population by only 90,000 (Moshes, 1999: 36). More-over, as migrants perceived the Baltic States as part of a Soviet Westrather than as independent states, they demonstrated little desire toacculturate by, for example, learning Estonian, Latvian or Lithuanian;the expectation was that titular populations would adapt to the Sovietenvironment (Chinn and Kaiser, 1996: 115). Thus throughout theSoviet period vertical integration served to pull previously narrowernational identities towards a wider Soviet one.

Societal Security, State-Building and Foreign Policy Formation

In the late 1980s, as Baltic nationalists began to believe that the ‘end ofoccupation’ was near, they embarked on debates about how to definethe political community in their soon-to-be-independent states. By1991 and beyond, when citizenship rights and naturalization proced-ures were in the process of being established, the dominant politicalorientation was ‘restorationist’, and this applied especially to citizen-ship (Park, 1994). Estonia and Latvia established citizenship on thebasis of constitutions elaborated during the First (‘inter-war’)Republics, with some exceptions — for example, those applying underspecial Congress of Estonia rules (Öst, 1994). This proved highly


019653.doc 3/8/1 4:07 pm Page 279

controversial in both the domestic and international arenas. However,Lithuania, with its much smaller and better integrated minority, chosea more inclusive approach to citizenship, adopting a ‘zero option’ pol-icy of granting citizenship to all residents on Lithuanian territory at thetime of independence. This stance was considered more politicallypalatable, since the dominant national group did not perceive them-selves to be threatened as in Estonia and Latvia.

Although Wæver et al. (1993: 191) noted: ‘for threatened societies,one obvious line of defensive response is to strengthen societal iden-tity’, in Estonia and Latvia the key obstacle to creating a broad multi-ethnic support base to secure independence — Soviet-era migrantopposition — appeared at first to be overstated. Russia was the firststate to recognize Baltic sovereignty after the August putsch in 1991 andinitial relations between Baltic elites and Yeltsin were positive. Yeltsinpromoted Baltic independence in part as a strategy to undermine theauthority of the President of the USSR — Gorbachev — and so securepolitical hegemony within the Russian Republic (soon to be renamedRussian Federation). Moreover, the majority of ethnic Russians andRussian speakers in Estonia and Latvia had voted for independence inthe referendum on 3 March 1991 (Karklins, 1994: 101–2).

However, events both domestic (‘Fifth Column’ or ‘Trojan Horse’)and international (threat of annexation) quickly shaped perceptions,which in turn drove the more exclusive, ethno-nationalist state-building strategies adopted in Estonia and Latvia. Here the reactionsof some Russians and Russian speakers in support of the Augustputsch of 1991, the fact that the titular population constituted a weakmajority, and the perception of migrants as a ‘civil garrison of the occu-pying power’ (Smith, 1996: 161) helped determine Estonian andLatvian state-building policy. The phenomenon of ‘nationalist outbid-ding’ in the first parliaments — the mobilization of ethnic identity inlieu of economic or political goods to offer constituents — and the fearthat a ‘zero option’ would legitimize past injustices were also factors atplay.

Once independence had been achieved, the realities of Russiangeopolitical interests and goals gradually became apparent. In theearly and mid-1990s Russian policy towards the region was reactive,receiving its direction and drive from external influences, particularlythe Euro-Atlantic response to the strategic reorientation of the BalticStates themselves. Russia developed a strategy of ‘differentiatedengagement’, linking resolution of one outstanding issue of dispute


019653.doc 3/8/1 4:07 pm Page 280

(borders) with another (diaspora). This proved a very effective meansof maintaining influence within the region and shaping the strategicenvironment. Essentially, Russia sought to link ‘domestic’ and internalBaltic issues connected with the Soviet legacy (minorities, borders,transit trade) to external Baltic strategic reorientation towards theWest. By focusing on the ‘internal’ political, economic and above allsocietal points of conflict, Russia sought to oppose Baltic westwardstrategic reorientation by proxy (Herd, 1999: 201).

The passing of citizenship legislation generated grievances amongthe minority communities of Estonia and Latvia (Smith et al., 1994). InLatvia, for example, a law on citizenship (July 1994) allowed non-citizens (approximately 30% of the total population, almost exclu-sively Russian speakers) to become naturalized. They had to offerproof, however, of five years’ residence and pass tests in Latvianlanguage competence and history, and demonstrate a basic knowledgeof the constitution. Frustrations over naturalization and residencepermits, and socio-economic inequalities, were three of the mostimportant sources of ethnic minority grievances. Comments by TimoLahelma, a diplomat and expert in human rights, on citizenship policyin Europe are particularly relevant for Estonia and Latvia:

If the citizenship law of the state conforms to the requirements of interna-tional law, one cannot speak of a violation of human rights or discriminationprohibited by international law . . . However, the regulation of nationality isnot exclusively a legal but also a political question. In the long run the pres-ence of a large proportion of population in the territory of the state withoutcitizenship, and consequently without the rights that nationals of the statenormally enjoy, may eventually lead to the danger of serious instability inthe political situation. (Lahelma, 1994: 93)

The citizenship policies adopted by Estonia and Latvia can also beexplained with reference to the emergent foreign policies of the newlyindependent states. On regaining independence in 1991, the maindanger to Baltic sovereignty and territorial integrity was perceived toarise from an ill-defined post-Soviet re-integrationist impulse, gener-ated by a vague combination of Russian nationalist chauvinism, Sovietnostalgia and imperial patriotism (Jubulis, 1996). The high-water markof this policy is best expressed in the Long Term Policy Guidelinestowards the Baltic States published in February 1997 by Yeltsin’sPresidential Office. The policy document outlined six interlinked


019653.doc 3/8/1 4:07 pm Page 281

issues that were central to Russo–Baltic relations. It began by reiterat-ing Russian opposition to Baltic inclusion in NATO, a sweeping con-demnation of the primary foreign policy objective of all three BalticStates. It then stated that until the protection of ‘compatriot rights’ wasguaranteed in Estonia and Latvia, border ratification between Russiaand these two Baltic States would be delayed (Cichock, 1999: 99). Thedocument emphasized the necessity of Russia maintaining profitableeconomic ties to the Kaliningrad oblast (region), while calling forRusso–Baltic co-operation to combat the threats posed by organizedcrime. Lastly, increased bilateral cultural co-operation between Russiaand the Baltic States was encouraged. Russia thus clearly highlightedsocietal security concerns among its ‘persecuted’ compatriot minori-ties in Estonia and Latvia as the motor that drove Russian policy(Herd, 1999: 201).

In this context, security could only be enhanced by a dramaticstrategic reorientation westward. NATO integration, with its Article Vnuclear security ‘guarantees’, was the key foreign policy goal of allthree Baltic States (Bajarunas et al., 1995). However, it was quicklyrealized that NATO integration could only be a long-term securitystrategy. In the medium term membership in the EU could providesecurity commitments and benefits (but not ‘guarantees’), and in theshort term successful democratization transition projects would stabi-lize and secure the sovereignty of these states (Asmus and Nurick,1996). EU membership presented the Baltic States with the opportu-nity of consolidating economic prosperity. Membership and economicco-operation, the extension of financial solidarity, also offered animportant security benefit, as any Russian intervention — or threat ofintervention — to an EU member state would have serious conse-quences for its strategic partnership with the EU as a whole.

Thus, two important factors were already shaping Baltic attitudestowards the EU. First, in lieu of the prospect of rapid NATO integra-tion, and in the context of the elaboration of a flexible and increasinglysophisticated Russian Baltic policy, the EU was marketed by Balticelites to their publics as a ‘soft security’ generating institution. That is,EU membership and the ‘return to Europe’ would extend securitycommitments, generating benefits in the political, economic, societaland environmental security sectors, rather than the military ‘guaran-tees’ offered by NATO membership. Second, embedded within thisfirst expectation was the understanding that greater security was inex-tricably equated with enhanced stability and sovereignty.


019653.doc 3/8/1 4:07 pm Page 282

From the outset, then, there was an elite consensus about the natureof the security environment that characterized the Baltic region in theearly 1990s.This had a defining impact upon the way in which EU inte-gration strategies were to be developed and upon the way in which theEU would enhance stability in the region. Membership/non-membership was sharply polarized and perceived in terms ofincreased/decreased stability and security of Baltic sovereignty andterritorial integrity. For this reason, there was little public or elitedebate on whether or not to join; arguments in the domestic politicalarena between government and opposition parties only revolvedaround which policies to pursue in order to gain rapid integration(Ozolina, 1998: 115–16). Indeed, in the early 1990s the opposite wastrue: ‘Emphasising the Europeanness of Baltic cultures serves toheighten what many see as a clear cultural contrast with Russian,“Eastern” culture.“Rejoining the European family” is seen by many asa way to bolster national identity, rather than threaten it’ (Löfgren,1996: 47). In the early and mid-1990s nationalists embraced the notionof EU integration as an opportunity to fulfil and further national stateinterests; the ‘integration dilemma’ — the inherent tension betweenintegration gains and sovereignty losses — appeared to be largelylacking in the Baltic region. Each of the three Baltic States expressedits sovereignty most strongly, paradoxically, in its commitment to inte-grate with the EU: ‘International integration is seen in Estonia notonly as a manifestation or outcome of the practice of state sovereigntybut also as a prerequisite of sovereignty’ (Feldman, 2001).

The EU, Societal Security and Policy-Making in Estonia and Latvia

When considering the possibility of eastern EU enlargement, currentmember states insisted that democratic stability be a precondition foraccession, as underlined in the 1993 Copenhagen Council Conclusions,while acknowledging that the actual criteria had yet to be elaboratedin detail. The European Council (meeting in June 1993 in Copen-hagen) agreed that a candidate country in CEE would be eligible forEU membership when the candidate country

. . . has achieved stability of institutions guaranteeing democracy, the rule oflaw, human rights and respect for and protection of minorities, the existenceof a functioning market economy as well as the capacity to cope with com-


019653.doc 3/8/1 4:07 pm Page 283

petitive pressure and market forces within the Union. (European Council inCopenhagen, 1993: 11)

For Estonia and Latvia, particularly with regard to societal security, itwas clear that the timing and terms of full EU integration woulddepend in part on progress in these sensitive and subjective areas; buthow that progress was to be interpreted by the EU Commission andmember states would prove critical.

Within the EU a polity is usually defined as a ‘politically organisedsociety regardless of its form of government’ (Roberts and Edwards,1991: 108). In a broader sense it denotes the political community, whichtoday might extend to groups outside formal political institutions withother means to influence political decision-making, for examplethrough demonstrations, boycotts or media campaigns.The idea that ina given state there might be one main polity is predicated on anassumption of a unified state with at least one dominant nationalgroup. Minorities are integrated into the larger political community,gaining a civic identity associated with the state, while retaining a dis-tinct cultural or national identity. This ideal picture of a polity in anation state applies to very few European states today: perhaps onlyIceland. And yet the ideal image of a single, national polity has been apowerful and driving definitional ‘myth’ for the nation state and onewhich Baltic nationalists have pursued with great energy.

The EU decision in 1997 to begin membership negotiations with fiveaspirant states has had a profound domestic and foreign policy impactwithin all three Baltic States. In foreign policy terms, each of the threeBaltic countries stated that EU integration was now to be the primaryforeign policy objective, rather than membership in NATO. The privi-leging of EU integration in Baltic foreign policy was reflected inrenewed and increased EU influence over external and domestic legis-lation and policy-making, particularly on the issue of minority rightsand inter-ethnic relations in Estonia and Latvia. At the 1999 HelsinkiEuropean Council meeting it was agreed to widen enlargement nego-tiations from six to 12 mainly East European states, including bothLatvia and Lithuania, starting in February 2000 (Aalto, 2000). In par-ticular, the prospect of Baltic–EU integration placed renewed stresswithin the domestic Baltic political agenda on ‘third-pillar’ issues.PrimeMinister Skele of Latvia hailed the EU invitation to participate in talks,stressing: ‘The most important emphasis at the moment, of course, willbe on co-ordinating legislation. What is important is the emphasis


019653.doc 3/8/1 4:07 pm Page 284

placed on third-pillar issues, the issues relating to the internal affairsand justice systems, combating corruption in the country, the furtherdemocratization of society’ (Latvia Radio, Riga, 10 December 1999).

The extent to which the EU increasingly influences the internaldomestic policies of aspirant states, particularly when the policiesrelate to societal security, was most graphically illustrated in the latterhalf of 1999, when both Latvian and Estonian minority legislation wasmodified to adhere to the demands of EU harmonization. In July 1999,for example, the Head of the European Commission’s Mission toLatvia, Gunter Weiss, argued that stringent restrictions encoded intothe Estonian language law (Estonian language skills required of any-one selling goods or services) might create foreign policy problems. Hestated that by approving amendments to its language law, Estoniaignored the EU’s recommendation at a time when it had alreadystarted membership talks with the EU. This law also met with sharpcriticism from political parties of Estonian Russian speakers, theRussian Foreign Ministry and the Organisation for Security andCooperation in Europe (OSCE) high commissioner for nationalminorities, Max van der Stoel (BNS news agency, Tallinn, 7 July 1999).The Estonian government subsequently adopted an implementationact to amend the language law in response to OSCE demands byimposing the language requirement initially on workers in the publicsector only (BNS news agency, Tallinn, 14 July 1999).

Moreover, a UN Committee on the Elimination of RacialDiscrimination criticized Estonian citizenship policy in March 2000.For example, committee member Mario Jorge Yutsis was critical ofEstonia’s restricted definition of a minority as it ignored ‘non-citizens’,so ‘unbalancing’ Estonia’s integration process. He argued that thestipulation in Estonian law by which the annual immigration quotashould not exceed 0.05% of the permanent population of Estonia wasdiscriminatory, as it did not apply to the citizens of the EU, Iceland,Norway and Switzerland (BNS news agency, Tallinn, 21 March 2000).

These recommendations have resulted in a lively policy debateamong the Estonian political elite. Prime Minister Mart Laar stated asrecently as October 1999 that the European Commission’s criticism ofthe Estonian language law was not fully justified and that the govern-ment had no plans to send a new amendment to parliament. MartNutt, a member of the parliament’s European Affairs Commission andone of the authors of the law, argued that the issue of the language lawwas political rather than legal, noting: ‘There are no common norms in


019653.doc 3/8/1 4:07 pm Page 285

the European Union regulating the use of language.’ He added thatproblems related to the Estonian language law emerged after theOSCE alleged that amendments made to the law in 1998 failed to cor-respond to the obligations taken by Estonia internationally: ‘In prac-tice they [EU] don’t even bother to go deeper into the problem but arerepeating like parrots: the OSCE recommendations have to be ful-filled.’ The Estonian Foreign Ministry, however, has argued thatEstonia will have to relax its language law to join the EU and that thelanguage law largely derived from a period when the prospect ofEstonian EU integration was anything but clear (BNS news agency,Tallinn, 31 January 2000).

The Latvian language law proposed in the Seimas on 8 July 1999 wasalso heavily criticized both internally and externally. For example,Lord Russell-Johnston, Chairman of the Parliamentary Assembly ofthe Council of Europe, stated that the Latvian language law did notmeet European standards and infringed the personal rights of a majorpart of the country’s population (Interfax news agency, Moscow, 13July 1999). The OSCE representative in Riga and the Russian ForeignMinistry were also critical. As Janis Jurkans, chairman of the factionHuman Rights in a United Latvia, noted: ‘The road to the EU is verycrowded and Latvia, with its hesitation and unwillingness to adhere tointernational standards puts itself in an unfavourable position’ (BNSnews agency, Tallinn, 8 July 1999). In May 2000 the Swedish ForeignMinister, Ana Lindh, announced that Sweden was in favour of theOSCE winding up its missions in Estonia and Latvia. She pointed outthat Latvia and Estonia had followed practically all the recommenda-tions made by OSCE High Commissioner to National Minorities Maxvan der Stoel. This was the first statement by a responsible Westernpolitician unequivocally favouring the closure of the OSCE missionsin Estonia and Latvia (BNS news agency, Tallinn, 29 May 2000).

This sentiment was echoed by the Danish Foreign Minister, NielsHelveg Petersen, who pointedly urged Latvian politicians not to let theissue become an obstacle to an invitation to talks on admission to theEuropean Union (Latvia Radio, Riga, 2 July 1999). Within Latvia, 18NGOs, including the Russian Community in Latvia, the Union ofUkrainians, and Belarusian and Armenian Societies, pressed that thelaw on state language be brought into line with international norms:‘the adopted law is discriminatory against national minorities makingup 43% of the country’s population’ (ITAR-TASS news agency,Moscow, 12 July 1999).


019653.doc 3/8/1 4:07 pm Page 286

Vaira Vike-Freiberga, elected President of Latvia on 17 June 1999,spoke of the ‘triangle of requirements’ that the Latvian language lawhad to fulfil. It must strengthen the Latvian language, without hinder-ing Latvian progress towards the EU or delaying the involvement offoreign businesses with the Latvian economy (Diena, Riga, 3 July1999). On these grounds she refused to sign the law and sent it back tothe Saeima. When the Saeima eventually passed the Latvian languagelaw on 9 December 1999, the EU enlargement commissionerGuenther Verheugen noted with satisfaction that ‘Latvia has thus fol-lowed recommendations made by the commission’ (BNS news agency,Tallinn, 10 December 1999). The bill was subsequently signed into lawby the President on 20 December 1999 and came into effect on 1September 2000. The EU Estonian Progress Report focused on theissue highlighted by the Latvian President, arguing that language lawsshould not simply be viewed through the prism of minority rights, butwould also affect the rights of EU citizens residing in Estonia afteraccession. The United Nations High Commission for Refugees(UNHCR) warned Lithuania that its new asylum law on refugee statusmight become a serious obstacle in its EU integration (BNS newsagency, Tallinn, 30 May 2000).

These examples demonstrate the extent to which the EU directlyand indirectly has influenced the treatment of minority and refugee/asylum issues in Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania, implicitly lendingexternal support and legitimization to particular sections of the elitethat oppose moves to further tighten citizenship and related legisla-tion. The fact that the EU has produced such a powerful critiquereveals not so much the breadth of the minority problem itself, but theextent to which EU integration has come to shape the political andpolicy-making landscapes within the Baltic States. As Latvia’s ForeignMinister Indulis Berzins noted in August 1999: ‘As this country inte-grates into transatlantic structures, so will Russian speakers integrateinto Latvia’ (RIA news agency, Moscow, 23 August 1999).

The citizenship and language issue was so contested because it fedinto a range of issues (education, elections, and residency) that deter-mined the quality of life and perception of security of titular andminority societies. Language is an obvious factor in political participa-tion; the Estonian parliament, for example, functions only in Estonian.It is clear that the EU’s ability (and to a lesser extent that of the OSCEand Council of Europe) to influence Estonian and Latvian integrationstrategies rests upon its capacity to exert diplomatic pressure and,


019653.doc 3/8/1 4:07 pm Page 287

more important, the incentive of EU integration. There is a direct cor-relation between the normative power of the EU and the possibility ofEU membership.

The prospect of EU membership has served to de-securitize thesocietal sectors in Estonia and Latvia. Realization by elites in Estoniaand Latvia that failure to ameliorate societal insecurity could prove tobe a hindrance to EU membership has changed domestic legislation inthis sector, as has been demonstrated above. However, a parallel pro-cess has also taken place, gathering pace in the new century. For someparties and politicians, EU membership itself has been identified as athreat to the sovereignty and territorial integrity of the Baltic statesand in this sense EU membership has been securitized. The closer theprospect of EU membership appears, the stronger opposition to mem-bership grows. This opposition is expressed in three key ways. First, adecline in public support for EU membership. Second, the growth ofparties that oppose membership — some explicitly because it threat-ens to disrupt the dominance and hegemony of the titular nationalities.Third, in the opposition of the new minorities who object to ‘assimila-tion’ policies being introduced and then legitimized by reference tothe overriding objective of EU integration.

In 1997 it was noted that Baltic public opinion could become moreprominent in shaping state policies towards integration: ‘If there areno clear prospects for joining the EU in the foreseeable future, how-ever, the mood of the public opinion may well change, and transitionalprocesses may slow down’ (Bleiere, 1997: 80). By the year 2000 it wasclear that EU integration was beginning to cause political cleavagebetween parties, and that elite political consensus could fracture underthe frustration of delayed integration. Between November 1995 andNovember 1997 most of the political elites, and a stable 27–44% of thepopulation, were locked into the EU integration process, exhibiting aremarkable degree of political consensus (Raik, 1999: 81). By July 1999a poll reported that 53.9% of Estonians supported accession to theEU, the rest being opposed (27.6%) or lacking an opinion (18.5%);furthermore, the survey revealed there were no significant differencesbetween Estonian citizens and non-citizens living in the country (ETAnews agency, Tallinn, 25 July 1999). An October 1999 poll indicatedthat 38% of the Estonian population were pro-European, suggestingthat the percentage of pro-EU integration voters was volatile, butsteady at between one-third and one-half of the population(Postimees, 17 December 1999). In Latvia, five opinion polls taken


019653.doc 3/8/1 4:07 pm Page 288

between November 1998 and November 1999 show approximately45–50% of the population supporting EU integration, with the impor-tant qualification that 52% of citizens would vote for accession, butonly 37% of non-citizens (European Integration Bureau, 1999). By2001, for the first time, an opinion poll in Estonia established that thenumber of opponents of EU accession had grown to over half (51%)among citizens with the right to vote (Postimees website, Tallinn, 28March 2001).

As public support for EU integration declines, this tendency ismirrored increasingly in elite behaviour. Lithuania’s so-called ‘angrymen’s statement’ is indicative of possible future elite political reactionagainst the potentially high social and economic costs of EU integra-tion. In late January 2000 a group of intellectuals and former MPswarned: ‘there are grounds for people’s fears that Lithuania will soonbecome a mere protectorate of cheap labour force without any rights’should EU integration occur, and called for a referendum to decideissues ‘limiting the nation’s sovereignty’ — accession to the EU andNATO (BNS news agency, Tallinn, 28 January 2000). The LithuanianPresident Valdas Adamkus has noted the social and economic costs ofintegration and responded:

Seeing the different interests of social groups, let us seek to compromise andsearch for common national aspirations. But let us not instigate war betweenthe countryside and the cities, between civil servants and business people.We must seek civic solidarity, which is the indispensable foundation of thestate. (Lithuanian Television, Vilnius, 16 March 2001)

In Latvia, politicians addressing The Union For Fatherland andFreedom/LNNK national party congress in 2000 argued: ‘We shouldnot openly pave the road to the EU. Instead we should be the firstparty to defend national interests.’ They noted that the maintenance of‘national’ identity was not compatible with an orientation towards EUmembership because ‘joining the EU meant granting citizenship tocurrent non-citizens after a short time’ (BNS news agency, Tallinn, 4November 2000). In Estonia, a new party — the Republican Party —was registered in February 2001 in Tartu. Its chairman, Kristjan-OlariLeping, stated that ‘Party members are mostly students and otheryoung people, who have defined their political orientation as rightestand opposed to the European Union’ (BNS news agency, Tallinn, 9February 2001). Such eurosceptic political positions are likely to have


019653.doc 3/8/1 4:07 pm Page 289

received a boost from EU member states’ sanctions against Austria in2000.

Although Latvian and Estonian politicians stress the role of the EUin consolidating their societal sector — and to an extent they haveadapted domestic legislation on citizenship to this end — the adoptionof other EU policies ahead of enlargement is creating opposition. InEstonia, for example, Vladimir Velman and Mikhail Stalnukhin, twoRussian-speaking MPs from the opposition Centre Party who weremembers of an expert commission on the integration of ethnic minori-ties, resigned from the Commission in early January 2000. Theyclaimed that a draft government EU integration programme for2000–07 was underpinned by the plans of right-wingers, who came topower in May 1999, to assimilate ethnic minorities. Velman said it wasplanned to close all Russian secondary schools and higher educationalinstitutions in Estonia. This drew a sharp response from PopulationMinister Katrin Saks:

Integration is so important and so sensitive a topic in Estonia that it is irre-sponsible to link it with everyday party politics — I sincerely hope that noparty will attempt to harness the so-called Russian issue to the election cartand in this way split society on such an important topic. (BNS news agency,Tallinn, 1 February 2000)

However, in February 2001 Velman again criticized the require-ments of colleges to phase out Russian as the language of teaching andto replace it with Estonian as from 2007. He argued that Estonian gov-ernment policy was aimed at assimilation rather than the integrationof non-Estonians through the ‘forced Estonianization of Russianschools’ (Molodezh Estonii,Tallinn, 26 February 2001). Such an assess-ment was reinforced by Dmitry Rogozin, Chairman of the Committeeof International Affairs in the Russian State Duma, who arguedEstonian ‘population policy’ was based on creating a ‘ethnocratic soci-ety and a concept of discriminating against non-Estonian people’(BNS news agency, Tallinn, 16 February 2001). There is a fear and per-ception of repression which reflects the comments of Buzan et al. con-cerning the Soviet, rather than European, Union:

. . . integration projects, whether democratic or imperial, that seek to shapea common culture to match the state may attempt to control some or all ofthe machineries of cultural reproduction (e.g. schools, churches, languagerights). In more repressive instances, minorities may lose the ability to


019653.doc 3/8/1 4:07 pm Page 290

reproduce their culture because the majority uses the state to structure edu-cational, media and other systems to favour the majority culture. (1998: 122)

In Latvia and Lithuania, the issue of transit fees for Russians travel-ling in transit trains to Kaliningrad is set to focus attention on the soci-etal sector once more. In 2001 the Latvian Foreign Minister, IndulisBerzins, abrogated a 1993 agreement with Russia under whichRussians in transit could travel without a visa, because ‘we are obligedto comply with the rules that operate in EU countries’ (ITAR-TASS,Moscow, 27 March 2001). Under the Latvian plan for negotiatingaccession to the EU in accordance with Schengen visa rules, a rule willbe in effect before 30 June 2002 by which all passengers on trains intransit will need visas as they are in effect crossing what will constitutethe EU’s external border.

Conclusions: Societal Security and Post-Sovereignty

What does the study by Buzan et al. (1998) tell us of the role of migra-tion, horizontal and vertical competition in constructing a societalsecurity sector? Clearly all three of the factors identified by Buzan etal. have played a role in shaping the societal security debates withinEstonia, Latvia and Lithuania in the post-Cold War period. Estoniaand Latvia responded to the perceived threat in a similar manner,while Lithuania adopted the zero option on citizenship and so avoidedthe emergence of a classic societal security dilemma. In the Estonianand Latvian state-building projects the issue of societal security arosein part as ethnic minorities grew to mistrust the state as a neutralarbiter of interests. The radical national policies in the initial inde-pendence period appeared to confirm that the state existed muchmore to protect ethnic Estonians and Latvians than all residents inthe territory. The lack of perceived state protection was viewed bysome minorities in Estonia and Latvia as akin to a state threat to theirexistence, a feeling reinforced by Russian concerns voiced at the inter-national level. An important challenge for these Estonian and Latvianelites was their ability to demonstrate how a large alien populationdoes not necessarily imply societal instability or conflict and that theirstates had the capacity to absorb new residents.

In an explicit attempt to ‘return to Europe’ and an implicit desire toprotect the state against potential horizontal and vertical threats to the


019653.doc 3/8/1 4:07 pm Page 291

societal sector posed by an unstable Russian Federation, the threeBaltic States pushed for EU integration and membership. A paradoxemerged — in order to achieve integration into the EU, Estonia andLatvia had to moderate legislation enacted to avoid vertical and hori-zontal integration into the Russian Federation. In the 1990s the EU’s‘magnetic attraction’ centred on the prospect it offered of member-ship. This prospect initiated the process of desecuritizing the societalsector in Estonia and Latvia.

It is clear in the new century that such desecuritization occurs withinlimits — limits imposed by the past and present. It is remarkable tenyears after independence the extent to which historical grievancescontinue to play a role in securitizing identity. The supposed partici-pation of Baltic female snipers (‘white-stockings’) in Russia’s first(1994–96) and second (1999– )Chechen campaigns and the war crimestrials of former Red Army partisans (now military pensioners, suchas Vasiliy Kononov) for committing genocide are ‘balanced’ by Russia’scondemnation of contemporary SS veteran parades, the role ofEstonian, Latvian and Lithuanian police battalions in the holocaust,and the ‘flagrantly inhumane’ treatment of ‘veterans of the GreatPatriotic War’.The enduring impact of the Molotov–Ribbentrop Pact inRusso–Baltic discourse, and demands for compensation and damageinflicted by Soviet occupation, have provided the ammunition for acontemporary ‘information war’ within the region. These two irrecon-cilable discourses will continue to identify threats to stability emanatingfrom majority and minority society identity, even as the objective real-ity of citizenship policies and language laws diminishes objective differ-ences in the way in which the state interacts with its citizens.

The unresolved legacy of Sovietization and shared history of(co-)existence within the Baltic rim aside, contemporary factors alsopossess the power to ‘re-securitize’ the issue of identity as a source ofthreat and insecurity. The attraction of the EU — its normative powerand magnetism — is related to a calculation that balances the steadilyincreasing prospect of membership (and its attendant advantages)against the costs of delayed integration. Here the discourse onsovereignty within the Baltic states — particularly the lack of an ‘inte-gration dilemma’ — was a feature of the 1990s. However, as the ‘EUhas evolved into post-sovereign experimentation’ in which ‘its securityfunctions can be made sense of only in terms that violate the rules ofour sovereignty-bound political lexicon’ (Wæver, 2000: 250), it is clearthat the magnet also has the power to repel. In this context, as the


019653.doc 3/8/1 4:07 pm Page 292

strength and importance of a sovereign state identity are downgradedand diminished, so societal identities will be placed under increasedstress, creating the danger of a self-reinforcing spiral of instabilitybecoming institutionalized. In contemporary Europe it appears thatas the linkages between security, integration and identity grow, therelationships between society, nation and state weaken. Contestedidentities and the concept of societal security will therefore continueto remain the lynchpin and leitmotif of the Baltic security environ-ment, reflecting and in turn shaping military, political and economicsecurity within a globalizing post-sovereign security order.

Acknowledgement

Preparation of the manuscript was supported through a CopenhagenPeace Research Institute (COPRI) Visiting Research Fellowship(Graeme P. Herd) in June and July 2000 and the Principal SupportScheme for Young Scholars at the University of Aberdeen (JoanLöfgren) in May 1999. Our thanks to Aksel Kirch, Institute forEuropean Studies, Tallinn, for updating the census table, and to thejournal referees for helpful comments on an earlier submission. Allomissions and errors remain our own.

References

Aalto, P. (2000) ‘Beyond Restoration: the Construction of Post-Soviet Geopoliticsin Estonia’, Cooperation and Conflict 35(1): 65–88.

Asmus, R. D. and Nurick, R. C. (1996) ‘NATO Enlargement and the Baltic States’,Survival 38(2): 121–42.

Bajarunas, E., Haab, M. and Viksne, I. (1995) ‘The Baltic States: Security andDefence After Independence’, Chaillot Papers No. 19. Paris: Institute forSecurity Studies of the Western European Union.

Bleiere, D. (1997) ‘Integration of the Baltic States in the European Union’, in AtisLejins and Zaneta Ozolina (eds) Small States in a Turbulent Environment: TheBaltic Perspective. Riga: Latvian Institute for International Affairs.

Buzan, B. and Wæver, O. (1997) ‘Slippery? Contradictory? SociologicallyUntenable? The Copenhagen School Replies’, Review of International Studies23: 241–50.

Buzan, B., Wæver, O. and de Wilde, J. (1998) Security: A New Framework forAnalysis, pp. 119–40. Boulder, CO: Lynne Rienner.


019653.doc 3/8/1 4:07 pm Page 293

Chinn, J. and Kaiser, R. (1996) Russians as the New Minority. Oxford: Westview.Cichock, M. (1999) ‘Interdependence and Manipulation in the Russian–Baltic

Relationship: 1993–1997’, Journal of Baltic Studies 30(2): 89–117.European Council in Copenhagen (1993) European Council in Copenhagen

21–22/06/1993, Conclusions of the Presidency, p. 11.European Integration Bureau (EIB) (1999) Information 1999, Riga, Latvia: ‘Latest

Public Opinion Poll Shows Stable Support for Latvia’s Integration into theEuropean Union, 10 December 1999’, internet version, http://www.eib.lv

Feldman, M. (2001) ‘Sovereignty for Security? The Discourse of Sovereignty inEstonia’, paper presented at the International Studies Association annual con-ference, Chicago, 20–24 February.

Herd, Graeme P. (1999) ‘Russia’s Baltic Policy after the Meltdown’, SecurityDialogue 30(2): 197–212.

Jubulis, M. (1996) ‘The External Dimension of Democratization in Latvia: TheImpact of European Institutions’, International Relations 13(3): 59–73.

Karklins, R. (1994) Ethnopolitics and Transition to Democracy. The Collapse of theUSSR and Latvia. Washington, DC: Woodrow Wilson Center Press.

Lahelma, T. (1994) ‘The Role of the CSCE Missions in Preventive Diplomacy —the Case of Estonia (Aug. 1993–June 1994)’, in The Challenge of PreventiveDiplomacy: the experience of the CSCE. Stockholm: Ministry for ForeignAffairs.

Löfgren, Joan (1996) ‘A Different Kind of Union’, Transitions 4(6): 46–52.McSweeny, B. (1996) ‘Identity and Security: Buzan and the Copenhagen School’,

Review of International Studies 22: 81–93.Moshes, A. (1999) Overcoming Unfriendly Stability. Russian–Latvian Relations at

the End of the 1990s. Programme of the Northern Dimension of the CFSP.Helsinki: Finnish Institute of International Affairs.

Ozolina, Z, (1998), ‘Latvia, the EU and Baltic Sea Co-operation’ in S. Arnswaldand M. Jopp (eds) The European Union and The Baltic States. Visions, Interestsand Strategies for the Baltic Sea Region, pp. 113–44. Programme on the NorthernDimension of the CFSP. Helsinki: Finnish Institute of International Affairs.

Park, Andrus (1994) ‘Ethnicity and Independence: the Case of Estonia inComparative Perspective’, Europe–Asia Studies 46(1): 69–87.

Raik, Kristi (1999) Towards Substantive Democracy? The Role of the EuropeanUnion in the Democratisation of Estonia and the other Eastern Member Candi-dates.Tampere:TAPRI,Tampere Peace Research Report No. 84, pp. 1–116.

Roberts, G. and Edwards, A. (1991) A New Dictionary of Political AnalysisLondon: Edward Arnold.

Roe, P. (1999) ‘The Intrastate Security Dilemma: Ethnic Conflict as “Tragedy’’ ’,Journal of Peace Research 36(2): 183–202.

Sipaviciene, Andra (1996) International Migration and the Baltic States: NewPatterns and Policy. Helsinki: Report prepared for Baltic Assembly/NordicCouncil Seminar on Migration Issues Relevant to the Baltic Sea Area.


019653.doc 3/8/1 4:07 pm Page 294

Smith, G. (1996) ‘Latvia and the Latvians’, in G. Smith (ed.) The NationalitiesQuestion in the Post-Soviet States, pp. 147–69. Harlow: Longman.

Smith, G., Aasland, A. and Mole R. (1994) ‘Statehood, Ethnic Relations andCitizenship’, in G. Smith (ed.) The Baltic States. National Self-Determination inEstonia, Latvia and Lithuania, pp. 181–205. London: Macmillan.

The Statistical Yearbook of Estonia 1996. Tallinn: The Statistical Office of Estonia.The Statistical Yearbook of Estonia 2000. Tallinn: The Statistical Office of Estonia.Viksne, I. (1995) ‘Latvia and Europe’s Security Structures’, in P. Van Ham (ed.)

The Baltic States Security and Defence after Independence. Chaillot Paper No.19. Paris: Institute for Security Studies of Western European Union.

Wæver, O. (1995) ‘Securitization and Desecuritization’, in R. D. Lipschutz (ed.) OnSecurity, pp. 46–86. New York: Columbia University Press.

Wæver, O. (1996) ‘European Security Identities’, Journal of Common MarketStudies, 24(1): 103–28.

Wæver, O. (2000) ‘The EU as a Security Actor’, in M. Kelstrup and M. C. Williams(eds) International Relations Theory and the Politics of European Integration,pp. 250–94. London: Routledge.

Wæver, O., Buzan, B., Kelstrup, M. and Lemaitre, P. (1993) Identity, Migration andthe New Security Order in Europe. London: Pinter.

Öst, Anna-Carin (1994) ‘Who is a Citizen in Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania?’, inTaina Dahlgren (ed.) Human Rights in the Baltic States. Helsinki: AdvisoryBoard for International Human Rights Affairs, Publication No. 6, FinnishHelsinki Committee.

GRAEME P. HERD is Lecturer in InternationalRelations and Deputy Director of the ScottishCentre for International Security (SCIS) at theUniversity of Aberdeen. His recent publicationsinclude articles in Security Dialogue and Journal ofPeace Research in 1999, Mediterranean Politics,Journal of Slavic Military Studies and LithuanianForeign Policy Review in 2000 and Journal of PeaceResearch in 2001.

Address: Department of Politics and InternationalRelations, University of Aberdeen, Old AberdeenAB24 3QY, Scotland, UK.[email: [email protected]]

JOAN LÖFGREN is a Researcher at the Work ResearchCentre, University of Tampere (Doctoral Candidate,


019653.doc 3/8/1 4:07 pm Page 295

Columbia University). Her recent publicationsinclude a case study on Estonia in The Churches andReconciliation in the Transition to Democracy(Uppsala: Life and Peace Institute, 2000).

Address: Work Research Centre, University ofTampere, PO Box 607, FIN-33101 Tampere, Finland.[email: [email protected]]


019653.doc 3/8/1 4:07 pm Page 296

societal security

Documents