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On Aug. 23, 1989—the 50th anniversary of the signing of the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact, which established spheres of Soviet and German influence across Eastern Europe—approximately 2 million people across the Baltic states of Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania formed a human chain stretching more than 400 miles in a sign of resistance to the Soviet Union’s occupation of their countries. Known as “The Baltic Way,” this extraordinary feat of organization was conducted under conditions of limited media freedom, without modern forms of digital information sharing, and in defiance of a brutal dictatorship that, although weakening, still had enough power to severely punish dissent.
Moscow’s response was an initial barrage of verbal and media hysterics, but, critically, it didn’t enact physical reprisals. Instead the pressure this protest exerted on Moscow led to the Soviet Congress admitting to the existence of the pact—after decades of denying it—and its role in violating “the sovereignty and independence” of the Baltic states. Although it would be another two years before these countries regained their independence, the Baltic Way was an influential public exertion of these states’ right to sovereignty.
On Aug. 23, 1989—the 50th anniversary of the signing of the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact, which established spheres of Soviet and German influence across Eastern Europe—approximately 2 million people across the Baltic states of Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania formed a human chain stretching more than 400 miles in a sign of resistance to the Soviet Union’s occupation of their countries. Known as “The Baltic Way,” this extraordinary feat of organization was conducted under conditions of limited media freedom, without modern forms of digital information sharing, and in defiance of a brutal dictatorship that, although weakening, still had enough power to severely punish dissent.
Moscow’s response was an initial barrage of verbal and media hysterics, but, critically, it didn’t enact physical reprisals. Instead the pressure this protest exerted on Moscow led to the Soviet Congress admitting to the existence of the pact—after decades of denying it—and its role in violating “the sovereignty and independence” of the Baltic states. Although it would be another two years before these countries regained their independence, the Baltic Way was an influential public exertion of these states’ right to sovereignty.
The worldview driving the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact—that great powers have “spheres of influence” that afford them legitimate domination of a geographic region—remains present in Russia, and in Putin’s nationalist-imperialism, today. Since regaining their independence, the Baltic states have been striving to insulate themselves from the tragedy of their geographies, with borders bound to a country that can only ever be seen as a threat. Whatever ideas the various regimes of the Russian Empire, Soviet Union, or Putin’s Russia have claimed to hold have all been merely façades for a culture of neighborhood subjugation.
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People, some wearing light coats, hold hands and raise them up together forming a human chain in a crowd three rows deep. - Residents join hands in Tallinn, Estonia, in August 1989, forming a giant human chain in a symbol of Baltic solidarity. Robert Tonsing/AP
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A close-up view of the torsos of three people with their hands clasped and intertwined as they form a human chain. - People link hands in Tallinn in August 1989. Robert Tonsing/AP
Alongside their accession to NATO in 2004, collectively joining the European Union the same year has also been critical to the Baltics preserving their independence. NATO has provided the confidence of security, while the EU has provided the institutional arrangements that have allowed these countries to transform this security into opportunity. The combined GDP of the three states is now nearly four times larger than it was two decades ago, and all three are now deemed high-income countries.
Throughout this short period, the Baltics have arguably become the states that now best embody the broad ideals of the European Union. They have firm commitments to liberal democratic values, and a keen understanding of rules and institutions as the counterforce to authoritarianism. They are the countries that see Russia’s current aggression with the clearest eyes.
Yet ideals are often too intangible to protect against belligerent forces. Collective security relies on the practical, everyday aspects of integration. Values require being reinforced by interests—by the flow of goods, services, people, and culture. Central to those interests is Europe’s extensive network of train lines. The train has always been a potent symbol of European integration, its lines the veins of the continent, and crisscrossing the Schengen Area a demonstration of individual freedom, cosmopolitanism, and cooperative spirit.
Yet for the Baltics, there’s a problem.
The view from inside a train at Baltic Station, the main railway station in Tallinn, on Dec. 21, 2023. Mihkel Maripuu/Getty Images
On a recent morning, I left the Estonian capital of Tallinn with a final destination of the Latvian capital of Riga and found myself marooned in the Estonian town of Valga. There are currently no trains that run directly between the two Baltic capitals, a distance of approximately four hours by car. In order to get to Riga, you must first get the train to Valga and wait. Valga sits on the border with Latvia; the twin town of Valka lies on the Latvian side. Valka has no train station of its own, so it uses the Valga station.
When both countries were occupied by the Soviet Union, this wasn’t a problem, because trains could run straight through between the two capitals under the oversight of Soviet Railways. But upon gaining independence, both Estonia and Latvia needed to create new railway authorities and, contrary to the spirit of the Baltic Way, they decided not to coordinate train schedules. Even when both countries ascended to the free movement Schengen Area in 2007 this coordination was somehow not considered necessary.
Close to four hours after the train from Tallinn terminates at Valga, a train from Riga arrives at its final stop of Valka and prepares itself for the return journey. While Estonia dispensed with the last of its Soviet-era trains in 2015 and now runs slick Swiss-made electric rolling stock, Latvia hasn’t fully gotten there yet, with the route from Valka to Riga continuing to run old diesel-powered locomotives built in Ukraine’s Donbas region from the 1960s until the Soviet Union’s collapse.
Although traveling between Tallinn and Riga may be inefficient—and as a result I appeared to be the only passenger that day dumb enough to make the trip—since December last year train travel between Riga and the Lithuanian capital of Vilnius is far easier, with one train daily in each direction. However, to connect into the European train network from Vilnius presents a far larger problem than just the coordination between railway authorities.
Trains within the rest of Europe run on standard-gauge tracks, but trains within the Baltic states run on broad gauge. Broad-gauge is otherwise known as Russian-gauge—presenting the Baltics with both a practical problem, and a symbolic one. To continue on into Poland and the wider European train network requires changing trains near the border. This is another inconvenience for passengers—although there is much better scheduling of trains than at the Estonia-Latvia border.
However, until recently, this was an even bigger problem for freight, with a time-consuming break-of-gauge facility causing long delays and congestion on the rail network. This problem has now been solved with the laying of a new standard gauge track from the Polish border to the Lithuanian city of Kaunas, creating a freight hub for goods from the Baltic region heading to and from the rest of Europe.
Leaders from Lithuania, the European Council, Estonia, and Latvia pose before a news conference in Tallinn on Jan. 31, 2017, as they sign an agreement on the Rail Baltica project for construction of a European-gauge rail line through the three Baltic states. Marko Mumm/AFP via Getty Images
This new stretch of track serves as the first stage of the ambitious Rail Baltica project: a new high-speed rail line connecting the region’s major hubs to Warsaw and allowing for Baltic integration with each other and the wider European continent. Due for completion in 2030, the line will bring the Baltics into the trans-European rail network, extending the west-east corridor from Antwerp to Tallinn. By the mid-2040s, it is projected to annually handle around 52 million passenger trips and 11 million tons of cargo.
It is within these volumes the Baltic region’s interests will catch up to its values. During the occupations by the Russian Empire and the Soviet Union, the region’s rail networks were planned primarily to transport goods for Russia to and from the Baltic Sea ports of Tallinn, Riga, and Klaipeda. Serving Russia’s interests was built into the transport design. Rail Baltica’s objective is to reorient the region’s transport circulation—turning its back on Russia and moving towards Europe, at 155 miles per hour.
Freight trains stand at a railway yard in Kybartai, Lithuania, near the border to the Russian semi-exclave of Kaliningrad on Oct. 28, 2022. Sean Gallup/Getty Images
The ability to make such a reorientation has only been possible due to the security guarantees of NATO. The exclave of Kaliningrad is Russia’s only ice-free Baltic Sea port, meaning that the pressure from Moscow to once again make these other Baltic Sea ports vassals of Russia’s interests would be intense without the security to resist. Russia will undoubtedly see Rail Baltica as a strategic threat.
Yet as construction continues on the project, the specter of another grand bargain between autocratic figures now hangs over the Baltic states. The return of Donald Trump to the White House, with his hostility towards NATO and his promise of accommodation of Russia in Ukraine, means that once again smaller states may have their safety and independence crushed by the notion of larger countries’ “spheres of influence.”
Such a scenario would undoubtedly rekindle the spirit of resistance from 1989. However, the hope should be that the Baltic Way can instead remain free to demonstrate its values through the air-conditioned comfort of a scenic train ride.