Talinn—”[T]he strong do what they can and the weak suffer what they must.” That is one of the most quoted phrases in ancient historian Thucydides’ influential account of the brutal geopolitics, which governed the Greek world during the devastating Peloponnesian War (431-405 BC).
He spoke of how Athenians, the rising power of the era, would offer ultimatums to smaller polities: “surrender and pay tribute to Athens, or be destroyed”; this became almost a de rigueur diplomatic practice for major powers, who did not “wish to waste time arguing over the morality of the situation” and believed that “in practice might makes right.”
I’m not sure if former president Rodrigo Duterte has ever read Thucydides’ work or any major classics for that matter, but he clearly channeled a similar mindset when he once unabashedly advised smaller nations to be “meek” and “humble” in exchange for China’s “mercy.”
In fairness, even ancient thinkers from Greece to China disagreed with such simplistic and binary characterization of geopolitics. Reflecting on The Warring States period (770–476 BC) in China, Mencius spoke of the role of middle-sized kingdoms as potentially ethical actors, who could mediate conflicts and prevent mass atrocities at the hands of larger powers.
Even among Thucydides’ fellow Greeks, there were those who adopted a more nuanced and variegated notion of geopolitics: While there were “magnates” such as Persia, Sparta, or Athens, there were also highly capable middle-sized city-states, such as Syracuse, Thebes, and Corinth, which ably maintained a significant amount of strategic autonomy.
Renaissance thinkers such as Giovanni Botero adopted a similar outlook when analyzing the resilience and grit of mezano (middle powers), such as Florence and Venice, against grandissime (big powers) of France and Austria. Centuries later, French philosopher L’Abbé de Ma would also speak of “second order” powers in Europe, which are capable of holding their own against imperial counterparts.
But in the Baltic region, home to the fiercely independent-minded, even “small powers” are flexing their muscle. Over the past few days, I had the privilege of exchanging views with leaders from Estonia, including Prime Minister Kaja Kallas (2021-present) and former president Kersti Kaljulaid (2016-2021).
The first thing I noticed is how Tallinn, the capital of Estonia, is breathtakingly beautiful. Though formerly part of the Russian Tsardom, the Baltic nation is clearly more oriented toward the Germanic-Nordic world, both in its overt architecture as well as psycho-cultural orientation. The Hanseatic imprint is unmistakable.
Way before Russia’s Peter the Great incorporated the Baltic region into his emerging empire following his decisive defeat of Sweden’s King Charles XII in Poltava (1709), Estonia spent centuries under the Teutonic knights. Estonian writers, such as Jaan Kross, often tackled their country’s Hanseatic past and distinct Medieval history, when Russia was just a marginal kingdom.
Today’s Estonia, itself a product of nationalist struggles against predatory empires at the dawn of the 20th century, is a picture of aesthetic serenity built on fierce patriotism. Sharing an almost 300-kilometer-long border with Russia, the small Baltic nation, home to just over one million folks, is the epitome of a “frontline” state. Its northeastern region is closer to St. Petersburg than Estonia’s major resort city of Pärnu.
In 2007, the tiny Baltic nation was at the receiving end of one of the largest cyberwarfare operations in history aimed at paralyzing the country’s key institutions. Instead of cowering, Estonia doubled down on its cybersecurity capabilities, and now hosts the state-of-the-art Nato Cooperative Cyber Defence Centre of Excellence. For democracies around the world, Estonia, and the so-called Tallinn Manual, is a universal source of policy wisdom on balancing cybersecurity with basic freedoms.
Russia’s invasion of nearby Ukraine has only reinforced patriotic resolve, intraregional solidarity, and strategic perseverance among Baltic nations. On a per capita basis, Estonia stands as the biggest contributor to collective efforts in aiding Ukraine both on the military and humanitarian fronts. Meanwhile, Estonians have made it clear that they are prepared to meet the challenge, in tandem with Nato allies, in an event of kinetic warfare with their giant eastern neighbor.
In contrast to Thucydides’ ancient Athens, Estonians believe that even small nations can deter and, if necessary, inflict significant suffering on bullies, by remaining strong and steadfast.
rheydarian@inquirer.com.ph