How the Kremlin sells the illusion of an improved Russia without Putin through Carrie Bradshaw

The Estonian politician has a reputation as a «Russophobe» because she can convincingly explain why Russia should not be trusted on land, in the Baltic Sea or at the negotiating table. It is rare to find someone in Brussels who calls things by their proper names. Kaja Kallas openly states that the war against Ukraine is not a minor regional conflict but rather a piece in a grand game where the ultimate prize is bringing Moscow’s subjects to heel.

The Estonian Prime Minister’s stance is so strong in the Western world that her name was among the finalists for the position of NATO’s new Secretary General

Here, an intriguing detail must be added: the refined blonde with a steely character is the Kremlin’s worst nightmare. She is not merely banned from entering Russia, as is the case with most rational EU politicians, but she is also the first government official whom Moscow has officially placed on a criminal wanted list for «desecration of a historical monument».

The reason - the decommunisation and removal of numerous monuments from the Soviet occupation period, carried out by Kallas’s government. Russia was particularly adamant about preserving a Soviet tank in the border town of Narva, where ethnic Russians significantly outnumber locals.

Previous Estonian governments had raised the issue of relocating the tank, which symbolised not so much the fight against Nazism as it did Russian militarism. However, fears lingered - the mass riots in Tallinn in 2007 (the so-called «Bronze Night»), carried out by local Russians and agitators from Russia in response to the relocation of a monument to a Soviet soldier in the Estonian capital, heightened concerns that another move could trigger a repeat of those events, from street clashes to cyberattacks on government websites. However, in the summer of 2022, after visiting the de-occupied town of Bucha, Kallas took the issue to a new level. In the end, despite the complaints of Russian speakers, the tank was sent to storage.

In 2023, when the politician was already being named among those who could join the new European top elite, she gave an interview to British hard-talker Stephen Sackur. At the time, the journalist asked whether her heart was open to the 25% of Russian speakers who complained of severe oppression - they were not allowed to enter Estonia with Russian car number plates. Interestingly, the loudest outcries came from the so-called Russian opposition. Kallas’s response was firm:

- You are confusing two things. Russians who live here, we call Russian-speaking Estonians. And Russia is a separate matter. I want to point out that, firstly, in the 1920s, Russians in Estonia made up 3%. By the end of the occupation, it was 30%. So it is not as if they had always lived here...

- Are you saying that they are not real Estonians? - Sackur clarified.

- No, no. I am saying that those who want to be part of Estonia, who consider Estonia their home, have applied for citizenship, learned the language and are part of our society - they constitute the majority of our Russian-speaking population. We ask for only one thing: learn our language, because that is who we are, we live here - and it is a way to integrate them. Furthermore, I want to emphasise that even if we have a different history, we share a common future, and we are focused on that.

It felt like a cold shower, as nothing like this had ever been heard on the BBC.

Kallas takes a very sober view of today's threats due to her poignant family history

In March 2022, she wrote a column for the New York Times explaining why Russia’s occupation of Ukraine and its repressive actions reveal its true face.

‍«My mother was just a six-month-old baby when, in 1949, the Soviet authorities deported her along with her mother and grandmother to Siberia. My grandfather was sent to a Siberian labour camp. They were lucky to survive and return to Estonia, but many did not. Today, the Kremlin is reviving methods of outright barbarism», - Kallas admitted.

Her father, Siim Kallas, played a central role in Estonia’s independence movement and was the president of the country’s central bank. When the young Kaja decided to try her hand at politics, many advised her against it. Some doubted that a model-like woman could also be intelligent, while others even called her a «daddy’s girl».

However, by 2014, Kallas, as a Member of the European Parliament, had already proven herself an expert in digitalisation and had become an advocate for Ukraine at the outset of the war with Russia. It is important to clarify - this was at a time when global leaders were reluctant to confront Moscow and saw no major issue with the annexation of Crimea. After all, there had been a referendum, people had chosen Russia. What was the problem?

As Europe's chief diplomat, Kallas has a very clear-eyed assessment of the risks facing Europe

Above all, these include various hybrid threats across the EU - sabotage, cyberattacks, the shadow fleet, GPS disruptions and damage to cables. She is pushing for increased funding for security and defence, as simply relying on Washington’s nuclear umbrella in the Trump era is akin to suicide.

Kaja Kallas is convinced that the European Union must launch its own defence industry, as she stated in an interview with Suspilne in December 2024:

- The defence industry is crucial because a war is raging on European soil, in Ukraine, and Putin shows no signs of abandoning his objectives.

As the rational voice of Brussels, she has subtly explained to the United States why supporting Ukraine is in America's best interests:

- If America is concerned about China, then it must first worry about Russia. We see that Russia, Iran, North Korea and China are working together. We also see what Putin is doing in other countries, actively expanding his influence. So, if the US wants to remain the world’s strongest power, it will ultimately have to deal with Russia. The easiest way to handle this is to support Ukraine so it wins the war.

Ukrainian diplomats who maintain close contact with Brussels all unanimously note that a new generation of competent and determined women has entered European politics. They are professional, steadfast in their positions and fully aware of their identity and purpose. The name Kaja Kallas is mentioned most often. She is not just a self-made woman but also a descendant of Estonians whom Russia deported like cattle to Siberia, hoping that no one would survive the lumber camps.

Yet Kallas’s mother survived and instilled in her daughter an understanding of why Russia is an enemy and why its favourite pastime is killing and looting

The Estonian with an unyielding character has become the loudest voice of Eastern Europe in Brussels, representing the very region that Moscow stubbornly considers its sphere of influence. However, as time and experience show, small nations also have a voice and teeth. They can bite the throat of the predator that pushes in uninvited.

The project is co-financed by the Polish-American Freedom Foundation as part of the «Support Ukraine» programme, implemented by the «Education for Democracy» Foundation

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For the longest time it has been my dream to move to America but after living there for three years, I decided to move back to Poland. Just like my parents, I thought that living in America was going to offer me this big American dream, but that was not the case. I think due to the ways in which America is portrayed, I had this preconceived notion of what my life is going to look like but I was unaware of the jarring realisations that come with moving to the West. 

When I got there I wouldn't say that I missed my old life in Poland. Everything felt new and exciting and I felt like «I made it» but the longer I spent time in the US the more I realised the sad realities of America. Life in the East is highly focused on community: I know my neighbours, I get my fruits and vegetables from a local market stand, my friends buy me beers when I’m out of cash, but my experience in America was the complete opposite of that. Unless you’re in a borough where you grew up or have built a community, all your experiences are transactional. I found myself thinking that I’m forming a relationship with someone to quickly later on finding that they wanted something from me, blurring the line whether friendships can exist outside of work or status.

What was the most difficult for me when I was there was really understanding my identity in the realm of the US

In America, I am perceived as a white girl and my identity as a Polish person is not necessarily considered unless I bring it up in a conversation. This was really difficult for me to understand because I feel like I'm coming from a country that focuses on identity so much. I felt like that was just being stripped away. I couldn't really identify myself with where I lay in the US. Should I be considered an immigrant or should I be considered a Polish American? It was really unclear for me. I was aware of the privileges that I have in America due to being a white woman but I couldn’t identify or relate to the white American women around me.

I didn't really feel at home there unless I was in a neighbourhood such as Greenpoint where I was able to socialise with Polish people, and when it came to my university, I only met one other Polish person. It wasn't until I became friends with a Ukrainian guy who came from an immigrant family. He understood exactly what I was talking about. The Americans only perceived him as a white boy and he was unable to identify with white American men either. We would discuss our similarities and differences of being Polish and Ukrainian and the terror that's happening in the world right now that most of our peers in America seemed to ignore. I think that America is so centralised in its country and politics that a lot of issues outside that don’t concern people there just seem to be irrelevant and I think especially when you are an immigrant you can find yourself feeling lost. 

That friend of mine made me realise how much I miss my country and how much I miss my community because he was the closest to what felt like a community to me in America. It's a weird experience to be an Eastern European because, on one hand, most Eastern European countries have been historically oppressed but on the other hand, you do carry the privilege of being a white person and should hold yourself accountable for having that privilege. 

It's just not talked about enough how much history affected Eastern European countries and especially in the West I don't see many people being aware of what happened.

I remember how in one of my classes an American kid didn’t even know about what’s happening in Ukraine. «What war?» they said and I couldn’t believe what I was hearing

I got so angry, how can one not know? Everything there is centralised in their country, excluding anything that doesn’t focus on it or on their ideals of individualism. I couldn't take it anymore - «America this, America that», - no news about another country, while their country is one responsible for most war crimes in the world and is simultaneously one able to stop these wars.

In New York, I lived in the Ukrainian neighbourhood of the East Village, hoping it would bring me a sense of peace. Instead, I found it felt rather fabricated. I didn’t hear any Ukrainian on the streets, and most of the neighbourhood seemed to be gentrified by hipster white Americans and students looking for affordable housing. I often found myself wondering what this meant for those who once called the neighbourhood home.

The contrast between the original culture and the modern, more commercialised environment evoked a sense of nostalgia for what was lost, which was only enhanced by what is happening in Ukraine right now

Similarly, I saw the same thing taking place in Greenpoint. What was once known as a thriving Polish neighbourhood was no longer the same. Each month I’d go - another restaurant would get shut down and another person I’d known would move out since they could no longer afford it. What struck me most was the change in the people around me. Many residents who lived there for a long time were being pushed out due to rising rents, and the cultural landscape I had initially felt in a way at home, began to feel more homogenised. Both Ukrainian and Polish communities were pushed out of neighbourhoods they once considered their own, now they move a couple miles further away from Manhattan to another neighbourhood they will call home until it happens again. 

All my time while I was in America I questioned: why not choose the calmer, community life? Why is this the dream? Feeling isolated in the four walls of my New York apartment, waking up every day to the loud noises outside, seeing faces I don’t recognise every day. Why not move back home and have community, support and a sense of safety? I realised that as I was complaining about all of this I only had one option. I packed my things and I left. My dream is not to be surrounded by shiny things and a job that boosts my sense of self. I want to feel like I belong somewhere, a place where neighbours say hi to each other, a place where others take care of each other, a place we can call home.