Denmark and Lithuania through 100 years of bilateral relations - From Neighbours to Allies by DanishEmbassyVilnius

DENMARK AND LITHUANIA THROUGH 100 YEARS OF BILATERAL RELATIONS From neighbours to allies

Edited by Niels Bo Poulsen and Hans Brask

From neighbours to allies

Frontpage picture: Photoshoot of Lithuanian troops with Defence Minister Linkevičius before leaving for Denmark and then the joint mission in Croatia. Karmelava Airport, Kaunas, on 1 August 1994. Edited by Niels Bo Poulsen Hans Brask Assistant Editor: Maria Oien Also in the editorial team: Jakob Greve Kromann Niels H. Johansen (photo research) Layout and cover design: Petras Babušis Printed by PrintRest SIA This book was supported by the following Danish companies in Lithuania: Danske Bank, DFDS, DSV, Novo Nordisk and Jakobsen Home

Furthermore, support has been provided by: Danish Chamber of Commerce in Lithuania The Foundation Baltic Development Forum Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Denmark, Public Diplomacy grant Printing House PrintRest SIA ISBN: 978-609-96256-0-7 Printed in Latvia

TABLE OF CONTENTS Foreword by Gabrielius Landsbergis and Jeppe Kofod

Preface 10

PART1

THE VERY EARLY BEGINNING

CHAPTER 1

Åge Meyer Benedictsen and the Importance of Cultural Diplomacy 21 By Ieva Steponavičiūtė

CHAPTER 2

Lithuania’s Fight for Independence in 1918-1921 – a Danish Perspective 41 By Mikkel Kirkebæk

CHAPTER 3

Erik Biering, the 1st Danish Honorary Consul in Kaunas By Kirsten Biering

CHAPTER 4

“Balticumproject” – Danish Project for Lithuania, 1921-1940 By Vaidotas Mažeika

PART2

REGAINING INDEPENDENCE AND REESTABLISHING RELATIONS CHAPTER 5

Copenhagen 1991 – Opening the Baltic Information Office By Dalius Čekuolis

101 103

CHAPTER 6

Danish Help in Regaining Baltic Independence By Uffe Ellemann-Jensen

PART3

MILITARY LINKS

109

121

CHAPTER 7

First Engagement: Danish-Lithuanian Military Cooperation in the Early 1990s By Niels Johansen and Jakob Kromann

123

CHAPTER 8

The Helicopter Agreement and the Beginning of Intense Danish-Lithuanian Military Cooperation By Linas Linkevičius

143

CHAPTER 9

Denmark and Lithuania: Bilateral Military Cooperation 1992-2004 By Niels Bo Poulsen and Steen Bornholdt Andersen

149

CHAPTER 10

Danish-Lithuanian Defence Cooperation and NATO Membership: A Successful Cooperation that Achieved its Political-Strategic Objective By Kristian Fischer and Peter Michael Nielsen

PART4

POLITICAL AND SOCIETAL INTEGRATION CHAPTER 11

Danish Assistance to EU Membership Preparation By Neringa Mataitytė

175

201 203

CHAPTER 12

Danish-Lithuanian Business Links through 30 years – from Adventurism to Integrated Partnerships By Maria Oien

221

CHAPTER 13

Slow-Motion Independence: Lithuania’s Road to Energy Independence through Technification. By Trine Villumsen Berling and Ingerid Bratz

245

CHAPTER 14

Danish Cultural Institute – from a Danish Outpost to a Well-Grounded Cultural Institution in the Baltics By Simon Drewsen Holmberg and Amalie Pi Sørensen

263

CHAPTER 15

30 Years of Research and Higher Education Cooperation between Lithuania and Denmark By Erik Albæk

PART5

LOOKING AHEAD CHAPTER 16

Two Well-integrated Countries and International Partners By Gintė Bernadeta Damušis

CHAPTER 17

Celebrating Diplomatic Relations and a Shared Vision By Hans Brask

277

295 297

305

The Historical Timeline

316

List of Contributors, incl. Short Resumes

318

Notes 322

Gabrielius Landsbergis, Lithuanian Minister of Foreign Affairs, and Jeppe Kofod, Danish Minister for Foreign Affairs, at the conference in Eigtveds Pakhus on the occasion of the 100th anniversary of the establishment of diplomatic relations between Denmark and the Baltic States. (Photo: Embassy of Denmark in Lithiania)

FOREWORD BY GABRIELIUS LANDSBERGIS AND JEPPE KOFOD Celebrating 100 years of Danish-Lithuanian relations In 2021, we have witnessed many turbulent events on the international scene. The COVID-19 pandemic locked down our societies and caused a lot of human suffering. International solutions and coordination were needed. The crisis in Belarus challenged our shared democratic values. The Lukashenko regime’s crackdown on the Belarusian population’s peaceful demonstrations and its destabilising actions on the EU border called for strong, joint reactions. In Afghanistan, we had to secure our nationals and cooperation partners from Kabul when the Taliban took power after many years of war and engagement. Other international challenges could be listed. So far, they have all demanded our attention, focus, and cooperation in 2021. In this context, it is important also to pause and recognise achievements and positive developments. The 100 years of diplomatic relations between Denmark and Lithuania marked this year give us a chance to both celebrate and evaluate. Many events and bilateral visits have been organised in both Denmark and Lithuania to mark the anniversary together with a wider audience. We very much welcome and appreciate this publication that adds to and gives substance to the celebrations. Through the different articles and testimonies, it well describes how Denmark and Lithuania have developed from neighbours to allies over the past 100 and particularly in the 30 most recent years, to which the title of the book alludes. It helps us remember and reflect. It gives us inspiration to work together closely as equal partners, not least within the EU and NATO. Denmark stood with Lithuania in the early days of its restored independence 30 years ago, providing support and targeted assistance, when it was needed the most. Today, we can and must work hand in hand to help those building free and democratic societies in our neighbourhood. We wish everyone a good read, hoping that many Danes and Lithuanians can come together discussing both our common past and our future challenges.

Jeppe Kofod Minister for Foreign Affairs of Denmark

Gabrielius Landsbergis Minister of Foreign Affairs of Lithuania

PREFACE

In the second half of 2021, Denmark and Lithuania celebrate two anniversaries: 100 years ago, diplomatic relations were established, and 30 years ago, the relations were re-established after 50 dark years of Soviet occupation. This book seeks to contribute to the celebrations by describing how the two countries have developed from being simply regional neighbours to close international allies now. 17 individual chapters, written by a wide range of well-informed experts, observers, and researchers, each add a unique contribution to the full picture of how Danish-Lithuanian relations have evolved over the past 100 years and how their quality and range have expanded up to the present day. Danish King Christian X endorsed the government’s recommendation to recognize de jure the Republic of Lithuania on 26 September 1921 and thereby initiated the formal contacts between the two nations. The Republic of Lithuania had become a member of the League of Nations on 22 September 1921 in the aftermath of the First World War and the Russian revolution. Considering similar decisions by the Swedish and Norwegian governments, with whom Denmark’s own decision was coordinated, the Danish government instructed Honorary Consul Erik Biering in Kovno (Lithuania’s capital at the time) to inform the Lithuanian government of the decision. This happened on 28 September 1921. Interactions between Denmark and Lithuania have existed since the Middle Ages—an interaction which intensified after the emergence of the Lithuanian-Polish commonwealth. With the dissolution of this state at the end of the eighteenth century, contacts on a state-to-state level ceased to exist. For most Danes, Lithuania had become an almost unknown culture and territory. However, Lithuania did not completely vanish from the minds of the Danish population: in 1895, Danish traveller and ethnologist Åge Meyer Benedictsen published a book entitled “Lithuania—The Awakening of a Nation. Pictures of Lithuanian Culture,” which contributed greatly to presenting the

Lithuanian people to a greater Danish audience. Benedictsen, who was a strong supporter of Lithuanian independence and one of the first outside Lithuania to be so, stated in 1918 that no one could “be in doubt as to [the Lithuanians] being a people, who will obtain a voice in that grand many-toned assembly, which after years of darkness will build up the new era.” Benedictsen introduced Lithuanian personalities who could explain the aspirations of the Lithuanian people to leading members of the Copenhagen establishment (see chapter 1). In its early years of independence, Lithuania was admittedly more eager to engage than Denmark, as the independence process took place in a turbulent international period. During the next few decades, relations were primarily geared towards finding common ground on such matters as agriculture, infrastructure projects, trade, and economic cooperation. Danish business interests were centred on establishing a hub in Lithuania that could be used as a bridge into the bigger, more difficult Russian/Soviet market. As these hopes were gradually abandoned, more efforts were directed towards Lithuania’s own market potential and economic development (see chapters 3 and 4). Other issues joined the agenda after the First World War, for example, the painful Polish-Lithuanian border conflict regarding the future of Vilnius. A referendum was proposed to solve the strife in a way similar to the one that took place in South Jutland. Denmark was asked by the League of Nations to contribute a small military contingent as a peace-preserving force. But the referendum never took place, and the contingent never left Denmark. However, this was the first time that Lithuania prominently featured on the Danish political agenda (see chapter 2). We celebrate 100 years of diplomatic relations, but Denmark and Lithuania have truly enjoyed only 50 years of contacts. Half of the century, from 1940 to 1990, was characterized by the virtual absence of official contacts. Before bilateral relations could fully blossom, the 1939 Molotov-Ribbentrop treaty triggered a new world war. Soon, the two countries were subjected to German and Soviet domination. While the war affected Denmark relatively lightly, Lithuania experienced huge material damage, and its population was dramatically decimated by the Nazi Holocaust and subsequent Soviet repression. In addition to not having an embassy in Denmark, Lithuania only had a small diaspora in the country. Thus, Lithuania was almost absent from the Danish public eye. Only occasionally, the greater public was reminded of Lithuania. An example is the memoirs of the Danish-Jewish-Lithuanian 11

Rachlin family published in 1982—the book became a bestseller due to its literary qualities and dramatic content; its main topic was the family’s deportation from Lithuania to Siberia in 1940. The Lithuanian national photo archive bears only a few pictures of Danes visiting Lithuania during the Soviet period. Most of the pictures depict leading members of the Danish Communist Party. Few Danish politicians insisted on keeping the Baltic countries on the international agenda, and contacts with exiled Lithuanian diplomats were rare. Emanuelis Zingeris, a Seimas (Conservative Party) member of the Lithuanian Parliament, has drawn attention to one exception: Danish politician Marie Antoinette von Lowzow. She was delegate to the Consultative Assembly of the Council of Europe and a Folketinget (Conservative Party) member of the Danish Parliament. In 1960, she was rapporteur on the report “On the situation in the Baltic States on the twentieth anniversary of their forcible incorporation into the Soviet Union.” The extensive report highlighted the illegal annexation of the Baltic States that took place without any genuine reference to the wish of the people and expresses its sympathy with the Baltic people that suffered both economically and socially. The key message of the report—and that of Marie von Lowzow—was that the fate of the Baltic States should not be forgotten by fellow Europeans. For Zingeris, von Lowzow’s report was an important early sign of the solidarity with and support for the Baltic cause that could be rather easily broadly mobilised at the end of the 1980s. The de jure recognition established in 1921 has remained the legal status between Denmark and Lithuania until this day. Denmark never recognized the Soviet annexation of Lithuania nor that of the two other Baltic States. This made it much easier to re-establish diplomatic relations with Lithuania on 24 August 1991. At the instruction of the former Minister for Foreign Affairs, Uffe Ellemann-Jensen, a telex was sent to the Lithuanian Foreign Ministry. The Danish Government believed that international circumstances were conducive for taking this bold step as the first Western country (see chapters 5 and 6). Soon after, other countries followed suit. When the Lithuanian state was restored, the bilateral relations made a strong start. Among the first movers were various Danish NGOs that came to Lithuania to address the dire social situation that the country was facing. Soon, the first Danish companies and entrepreneurs also arrived. Simultaneously, Lithuanian students and professionals moved in counterpart for study and work (see chapter 15). The backdrop of this was a rapidly growing diplomatic 12

relationship, which came to encompass Danish capacity building in virtually all governmental sectors. A genuine partnership was developed, not least based on a joint desire to facilitate the entry of Lithuania into relevant international bodies, most importantly the EU and NATO. Denmark played a significant role in ensuring a successful outcome of the long preparation and negotiation process leading up to Lithuanian EU and NATO membership. This was possible due to consistent foreign policy pursued by consecutive, but still different, governments which enjoyed broad political support on this objective. Furthermore, the policy was backed by a substantial amount of money for technical assistance for capacity building. In addition, the Danish EU presidencies in 1993 and in 2002 were both important platforms that gave influence and attention to Danish policy views on enlargement toward the East, including the Baltic region (see chapters 11 and 12). Several chapters describe the NATO enlargement process and military cooperation between Denmark and Lithuania, reflecting one of the most significant dimensions of the relationship: two small states trying to survive and blossom in a world of great powers and power politics (see chapters 7, 8, 9, and 10). While the establishments of the UN and the EU have contributed to securing a world order with possibilities for small states to punch above their weight, recent developments demonstrate that serious security threats have not vanished from the Baltic Sea region and its neighbouring countries (see chapter 16). Military cooperation continues to this day to be substantial, both bilaterally and internationally. It has symbolic value that the Royal Danish Air Force takes yet another turn in policing Baltic airspace between 1 September and 31 December 2021 from the airbase in Šiauliai, Lithuania, coinciding with the anniversaries of our diplomatic relations with the Baltic States. Limiting the relationship to ‘high politics’ would, however, do injustice to the vast span of contacts and relations characterizing how Denmark and Lithuania have engaged over the last three decades. We try to shed light on the broad spectrum of relations and on some of the actors that have been enthusiastically involved in business contacts, cultural exchanges and scientific, energy and educational encounters (see chapters 12, 13, and 14). Most are very proud of having contributed and of working together with their Lithuanian counterparts. No doubt, these two small countries—who share the experience of neighbouring bigger powers—connect well with each other. PREFACE

When Lithuania became a NATO and EU member in 2004, the comprehensive bilateral cooperation changed. Funds dried up and many of the regular contacts between experts ceased. At the same time, a more intensive policy coordination began within multilateral fora. Before EU ministerial meetings, regular meetings often take place in the format of the like-minded Nordic-Baltic 6 group. More widely and outside the EU, consultation happens regularly among the Nordic-Baltic 8 countries. After the UK left the EU, there has been a common wish to further strengthen the coordination efforts and thereby increase the influence of the smaller, like-minded Nordic-Baltic countries. Logically, there are other factors at play than just the fact that DanishLithuanian cooperation has entered a more mature phase. This includes the communications revolution, making it much easier to keep in touch without meeting physically. The COVID-19 pandemic has further intensified this trend. Today, the Danish embassy in Vilnius is scaled down—compared to the pre-accession years—and frantic activities have been replaced by normalization. This does not mean, however, that the bilateral relations have become less important. To Danish Foreign Minister Jeppe Kofod, the Baltic States are very close to his heart (see chapter 17). Danish-Lithuanian relations are bound to change in tandem with trends and events inside and outside the two states. A pertinent example is the security situation around the Baltic Sea. Regrettably, a variety of events and structural changes (most notably, Russia’s annexation of Crimea in 2014) have resulted in placing security politics high on the agenda in the region once again. Such a development was not evident a few decades ago. Similarly, it is hard to predict which matters will be central to the relationship between the two countries in a few decades from now. The joint Danish-Baltic anniversary declaration gives some ideas as to what areas might be a priority in the future (see chapter 17). Although, the energy and climate agenda will surely be a common challenge for many years to come, and it offers a chance to work closely together in a wider Baltic-Searegion context (see chapter 13). The declaration gives good reason to stay optimistic that the present quality and comprehensiveness of the bilateral relations will continue for years to come. As always, a project like the present book is the art of the possible. The process of identifying topics and authors has been both exciting and challenging. Undoubtedly, some readers would like to see other perspectives or a different 14

composition of the book. The selection presented is carefully curated within the constraints of time and space. Likewise, COVID-19 has affected the work, for example, making it difficult to access archives. The texts are characterised by different lengths and are far from uniform, representing the breadth and diversity of both the topics and the authors. What nevertheless unites them is considerable enthusiasm about the topic, a wealth of new, hitherto unpublished observations and analyses, and finally a great dedication to Denmark and Lithuania as Baltic Sea neighbours and partners. In December 2020, the Danish Foreign Ministry celebrated its 250-year anniversary. The pandemic limited festivities, but top diplomat and historian Carsten Staur published an anniversary book “Skilleveje” (Crossroads), which describes some of the defining moments of Danish diplomacy throughout the 250 years. Danish policy towards the Baltic States in the 1990s takes up a substantial part of the book. Staur states that “there is no doubt that the Danish policy towards the Baltics [. . .] in a broader European perspective is a foreign policy success story.” We, the editors and initiators of this book, have both served at the Danish Embassy in Vilnius and want to contribute with more details about this success story, as many aspects are not yet recorded. In general, the list of publications covering Danish-Lithuanian relations is short. Hopefully, this book can inspire others to dig even deeper into this history and the nature of the bilateral relations. Naturally, the perspective of this book is Danish. Some Lithuanians authors were invited to contribute, but as friendly as they have been, their substantial contributions have not fully balanced the very positive light shed on the Danish accomplishments. The bias is obvious, and a stronger Lithuanian perspective would have undoubtedly presented other nuances. Hopefully, a broader Lithuanian perspective on Lithuanian-Danish relations will someday add to the picture presented here. It is also part of the tradition of anniversary publications that positive aspects dominate negative ones. No one wants to spoil the anniversary celebrations. Still, some of the chapters touch on critical aspects from which much can be learned. Mutual trust transcends the many chapters. One anecdote, widely known in military circles, embodies this level of trust: helicopter agreement. It is mentioned a few times in this book, and it describes how two defence ministers were able to reach an agreement on the deployment of soldiers on a peacekeeping mission (in Croatia) just by exchanging a few words on the backside PREFACE

of a napkin during a flight in a very noisy helicopter. The front picture of this book displays the military contingent that was on its way for training in Denmark before leaving jointly for Croatia. Finally, we would like to express our gratitude to the authors, who all volunteered readily when asked to contribute to the book. We hope that it will satisfy a broad and diverse group of readers from politicians and state officials to the general public. The authors each present their own perspective and are each solely responsible for their contribution. We have served as editors, but neither of our workplaces are responsible for the individual contributions. A special thanks goes to journalist Maria Oien, our Assistant Editor, who has had a firm grip on the process and the deadlines. A special thanks also goes to the generous sponsors who helped secure the production costs. Many efforts from everyone involved made it possible to present this story of Danish-Lithuanian bilateral relations through 100 years. We are happy to see the stories of neighbours and allies coming alive.

Hans Brask, Ambassador of Denmark to Lithuania

Niels Bo Poulsen, Prof., Royal Danish Defence College

PART 1

THE VERY EARLY BEGINNING

CHAPTER 1

ÅGE MEYER BENEDICTSEN AND THE IMPORTANCE OF CULTURAL DIPLOMACY By Ieva Steponavičiūtė, Associate Professor and Head of the Centre for Scandinavian Studies, Vilnius University Ieva Steponavičiūtė Aleksiejūnienė unfolds the story of Åge Meyer Benedictsen, Danish linguist, writer, and traveller, who, at the end of the 19th century, was the first Scandinavian to study Lithuania’s culture and language, advocating early for Lithuanian independence. This chapter also tells how leading cultural personalities from Lithuania and Denmark were performing cultural diplomacy, opening new doors into the political world.

This is a great privilege to be part of the project initiated by the Royal Danish Embassy in Vilnius to mark the centenary of the beginning of political contacts between Denmark and Lithuania. These longstanding ties have played a crucial role in the establishment of Lithuania’s independent and democratic statehood, and they have also shaped the lives and careers of many teachers and students at the Centre for Scandinavian Studies at Vilnius University, which I represent. All the Nordic countries, in different ways, but especially by working together, have been instrumental for Lithuania becoming what it is now, and it would be futile to attempt to weigh the contributions of one country against another. Lithuanians swear eternal gratitude to Iceland for being the first to recognise their restored statehood in February 1991; however, Iceland’s President Guðni Th. Jóhannesson, a professional historian who has researched his country’s role in the recognition of the Baltic countries, acknowledges the importance of CHAPTER 1

Portrait of Åge Meyer Benedictsen. (Photo: Private)

other Nordic countries, and especially then Danish foreign minister Uffe Elleman Jensen’s contribution into these processes. He also implies that they should be seen in the light of earlier Baltic-Nordic relations, including the years of Soviet occupation.1 Denmark, by firmly standing by its recognition in 1921, remained an ally of independent Lithuania even in the times when the latter’s name was erased from the political map of the world. This paper, however, will go much further back into the past and will pay tribute to the Dane Åge Meyer Benedictsen (1866-1927), who at the end of the 19th century became the first and vocal Scandinavian advocate of Lithuania’s right to be recognised as a nation. It will also serve as an occasion to remember some other contacts between the two countries in the course of the more than 100 years that followed, and to reflect on what could be done in order to preserve their memory for the future. PURSUING OPPRESSED NATIONS’ HAPPINESS The inscription on Åge Meyer Benedictsen’s gravestone reads: “The interpreter of oppressed nations/A radiating spirit for the Danish people” and on the back side: “Friends, his noble/Work won for him/ 22

Erected the stone/Over the good worrier”.* Although not cut in runes, it refers to the Viking custom of inscribing a person’s memory in stone for future generations. Today, however, not many Danes will know his name, although it was quite often mentioned in the contemporary press. Upon his death, foreign diplomats came to pay him last respects, and the then Danish Minister of Foreign Affairs Laust Moltesen read an eulogy at his funeral.2 A search in the catalogue of the Danish Royal Library will produce an extensive list of Meyer Benedictsen’s publications. Most of them are booklets for folk university education with speaking titles: “Jews and Jew-hatred” (Jøderne og Jødehadet, 1906), “India and Europe” (Indien og Europa, 1909), “The Struggle of the Irish people” (Irlands Folkekamp, 1910), “The Black Race in Africa and America” (Den sorte Race i Afrika og Amerika, 1927) and others. There are also bigger volumes: aside from the book dedicated to Lithuania, which will be discussed here, there are others dealing with Armenia, Finland and Iceland.3 Meyer Benedictsen’s name also appears in Danish translations of literature from many countries: novels by Božena Nemcova, Ivan Vazof, Juhani Aho, Eliza Orzeszkowa and Nikolai Gogol, and poems by Juliusz Słowacki and Adam Mickiewicz. He has also left a mark in linguistics, especially in the research of Iranian dialects.4 Meyer Benedictsen was born into a multicultural family: his mother, Anna María Benedictsen was an Icelandic-Danish actress and author, and a friend of H.C. Andersen, and his father, Johan Philip Ferdinand Meyer, was a successful businessman of Jewish descent. During his life, he came into contact with numerous other nationalities: he travelled widely not only in Europe, but also went to Caucasus, Persia, Kurdistan, India, Singapore, the West Indies and other places. Possessing an extraordinary talent for languages, immense erudition and a compassionate soul, he could easily establish contacts with any people and learn what pained them most. He became one of the first Danish defenders of ethnic minority and human rights, making it his life’s task to spread knowledge about subdued or persecuted

De undertrykte Nationers Tolk/En lysende Aand for det danske Folk; Venner, hans ædle/Virke vandt ham/satte Sten/ over Stridsmand god.

CHAPTER 1

communities and call for change. At the time without radio, TV and internet, his lectures, based on his globetrotting experience and read in the spirit of Grundvig’s tradition of popular education, must have been the most immediate channel for the Danish people into the outside world. His phenomenal ability to attract and captivate crowds of listeners is well documented. In one of his letters, Meyer Benedictsen wrote: “I never travel for fun […], but always go beyond the surface. Under the colour and form, I search for the essence […], for the human being, his way of thinking and his sense of happiness”.5 His persistent “quest” for others’ happiness also included the Lithuanians, whom he rediscovered for the world and described in the book Et Folk, der vaagner. Kulturbilleder fra Litaven, 1895. WRITING LITHUANIA Meyer Benedictsen first came to Lithuania in 1893, when the country as such did not exist. What had once been known as Grand Duchy of Lithuania, was, as the result of the third partition of the LithuanianPolish Commonwealth (1795), reduced to a province of the Russian Empire, while Lithuania Minor was a region of East Prussia. The indigenous Lithuanian people were unknown to the world, except for a few linguists (the Dane Rasmus Rask among them) who studied Lithuanian as one of the most archaic Indo-European languages, and those interested in folklore: some Lithuanian songs had been included in Johann Gottfried von Herder’s collections of folk songs and had been mentioned in Danish by Georg Brandes in his Impressions from Poland (Indtryk fra Polen, 1888). However, none of the foreign learned people before Meyer Benedictsen (perhaps, with the exception of the German humanist George Sauerwein, whom Meyer Benedictsen met and mentions in his book), spoke about Lithuanians as a nation to be, and already the opening paragraphs of his book show that the author is going to speak of their rights: On the spot where the voracious eagles in the arms of the two mightiest military powers of Europe salute each other, the 24

boundary marks of both countries are planted in the soil of an alien people; the land is neither German nor Russian; neither the German nor the Russian language has right of citizenship there – this land is Lithuania.6 Up to the present day, Benedictsen’s book, supplied with plentiful visual illustrations, remains one of the most exhaustive accounts about Lithuanians as an ethnic group. He meticulously, but also with sympathy and in vivid narrative and scenic images, describes all the elements that according to him define the individuality of a people: the landscapes and history, customs, language, mythology, people and culture. He also, apparently helped by his first wife Jeanette Schønheyder van Deurs7, includes the translations of about fifty Lithuanian dainos (folk songs) or their fragments. Much like the Romantic philosopher Herder, he sees in these songs – “often simple and monotonous […] but never without truth, rarely without beauty”8 – the essence of the nation’s soul and a possible source of national pride, especially when quality literature in

Et Folk, der vaagner. Kulturbilleder fra Litaven, 1895. (Photo: Private)

CHAPTER 1

the national language was lacking. Meyer Benedictsen also explores in great detail the condition of the Lithuanians under Prussian and Russian rule, their relations to other peoples with whom they share the territory – Germans, Poles and Jews – and registers with joy the first signs of national rebirth. After his studies in Moscow, Warsaw, Copenhagen and Leipzig, Meyer Benedictsen had very good command of Russian, Polish and German, and also of Lithuanian, which he had studied with professor Karl Verner.9 Thus, he could base his research both on his immediate experience of the country and on multiple written sources. Through the Russian linguist Filipp Fortunatov, he came into a contact with the Lithuanian intellectual Petras Kriaučiūnas (1850-1916) and his wife Sofija (1849-1912), whose home in Plokščiai, where he came to stay, was frequented by European linguists and “litvomans”. Kriaučiūnas was involved in the National Revival Movement, and through him, Meyer Benedictsen came into contact with its other members, including Vincas Kudirka (the future author of the Lithuanian national anthem) and had access to the movement’s press (Auszra). He also made use of older written sources by the historian Simonas Daukantas, the folklorist and poet Ludwig Rhesa, the poet Kristijonas Donelaitis, the ethnographer Ludwik Adam Jucewicz and others. Much of what he tells the Danish reader therefore reflects the traditional national-romantic narrative that would later lay the ideological foundation for the newly created Lithuanian state: the emphasis on Lithuania’s grand past, the uniqueness of its language and the great injustices inflicted by foreign powers. The memory of the Holocaust and manifestations of xenophobia today oblige us to be alert with regard to nationalist ideals; however, Meyer Benedictsen, much ahead of his time, was already fully aware of the complexity of nationalism. He dedicates his work to the distinguished Danish scholar and ardent proponent of the freedom of thought Georg Brandes, whom he calls: An advocate of what is elevating in the national feelings and an opponent when they drive over into banality and ugliness, an ardent defender when they give dignity to a people and are spacious and strong enough to accommodate the thoughts of 26

the big world, but an unhesitant protester against that type of national feelings that build a wall of prejudice around their own imperfections and narrow-mindedness*.10 What Meyer Benedictsen was observing during his visits to Lithuania was exactly the loss of that dignity: cultural and technological stagnation, growing alcoholism, denouncement of the native language and even shame at being a Lithuanian. He associated this decline with the people’s impeded cultural development, as the result of ethnic discrimination policies.11 He realised that Lithuanian ethnicity was very much a social issue. Lithuanian-speaking people in both the Prussian and Russian part (and language was the key factor of ethnicity for the author) of the territory were exclusively poor peasants inhabiting the rural areas, and in the Russian part, he saw a further overlapping of class and ethnic divisions. The bureaucracy and the punitive power were concentrated in the hands of Russian emissaries and the gentry and clergy were Poles or (self )polonised Lithuanians, while manufacturing, finance and trade were concentrated in the hands of the Jewish people**.12 Of all these groups, Lithuanian peasants, according to Benedictsen, suffered most. In the German territory, it was possible for a Lithuanian to cross the class boundary by adopting the coloniser’s culture through education, but this led to the loss of Lithuanian ethnicity.13 The author saw that the cultural and social implications of Russian rule as being even more devastating. There was panoptic control of public, religious and private life, coupled with severe punitive measures, which intensified after the crushing of the 1863 Polish-Lithuanian insurrection against the Russian czar. One of the most dramatic episodes in the book is the description of Kražiai massacre (1893), in which the author exclaims with Shakespeare at the *

Where something is missing in the published English translation of the book, my own translation from the Danish original is provided.

The author, who signs the book with his paternal Jewish surname Meyer, does not identify the entire Jewish population with this class. He sympathises with the difficult lot of the most disadvantaged part of this community and informs readers about the injustices Jews endured in the course of history. However, the book does contain some problematic descriptions of the local Jewry, and Ørveille (1997) explains that by claiming that Jewishness was not a racial, but a cultural, category for A.M. Benedictsen.

CHAPTER 1

world’s indifference: “This World! … Fie on’t ah, fie! ‘tis an unweeded garden…”.14 The violence committed against the nation’s spirit appeared to him as no less tragic. He, who was so active in Danish folk education, writes about the impossibility of getting schooling in the mother tongue, the absence of agricultural courses, the ban on public gatherings of any sort, and also the ban on Lithuanian writing – “an act of tyranny against the awakening spiritual life in Lithuania”.15 He understood that russification of Lithuanians was a result of the short-sighted Russian anti-Polish policy16 and regretted that the Poles, who had also suffered much from Russian suppression and whose cause he would also voice17, looked down on the Lithuanians and were antagonistic towards their national aspirations.*18 Meyer Benedictsen himself welcomed the formation of a new social group – the children of wealthier farmers who had gotten their university education in Moscow or St. Petersburg and returned home with a strong feeling of Lithuanian national identity and quite ‘radicalised’. Meyer Benedictsen deemed it important to stress that unlike earlier European national movements, the Lithuanian revival movement did not spring from romantic idealisation of the past, nor from foreign influences, but “had its foundation in nothing but love of the people and deep compassion for the hard conditions under which they had to live”19, and that the way it chose to go was that of enlightenment. He found a living proof of that in Kriaučiūnas and the people around him who organised secret Lithuanian schools, published Lithuanian papers in Lithuania Minor and had them transported to the mainland.** Meyer Benedictsen can be even said to have joined their efforts: just as they appealed to the Polish speaking Lithuanians to “rediscover their roots,” so did he, when he, according to Jurgis Savickis20, recognised a Lithuanian family name among people (a future “bank director and a famous doctor and maybe more”) he met in Moscow.

The Poles perceived these aspirations as being openly anti-Polish. The complexity of Polish-Lithuanian relations and differences in the interpretation of the same processes are well reflected in Landsbergis 2011/ 2013.

Book smuggling and illegal schooling became a defining Lithuanian cultural phenomenon up to 1904, when the ban was lifted (Plakans 2011, 237), and this 40-year period would witness an unprecedented growth of Lithuanian literacy (Venclova 2019, 108).

Meyer Benedictsen’s trust in the decisive role of culture and enlightened intelligentsia for nation formation was confirmed in theory and proven by history21, and his book about Lithuanian awakening was later considered prophetic by many. However, back in 1895 his conclusion was quite pessimistic: “it will be a very long and difficult way to go” before “the ill-treated people have secured the right of development and enoblement [...], because the world is still so short-sighted and hard-fisted”.22 THE AFTERLIFE OF THE BOOK The book received quite a few positive reviews in the Danish press and was even said to have attracted attention “of wide circles”.23 It was called “one of the best and most warmly written books of the year”.24 It raised Danish readers’ sympathy for “the little and modest peasant community, who had never been a cultural people” and whose “fight against two great cultural countries for the right to preserve their language and inherited customs was a sad thing to read”.25 The book is also said to be an “eyeopener to the glaring injustice committed by great powers against their small neighbours and showing, which weapons work better than canons and bayonets in the battle for national feelings and independence”.26 It is clear that the book appealed to the national sentiment of the Danes, who recognised their own trauma in the Lithuanian situation – the loss of South Jutland to Prussia in 1864. (Meyer Benedictsen’s book contained references to it too, but he also reminded the Danes that unlike the Lithuanians, they had a place where their nationality could be freely cherished). Jurgis Savickis (1890-1952), who in 1919 became the first Lithuanian envoy to Denmark, later met older Danes who would cheerfully exclaim that they knew Lithuania, because they had read Benedictsen’s book”.27 But even if there were people in Denmark who after 1918 still remembered what Lithuania was, the Lithuania that Savickis represented wanted to profile itself in a different way – not as a miserable and uncultivated victim, but as a vital, culturally and economically aspiring European state. It was Savickis, a diplomat, writer and artist, who took upon himself to continue Meyer Benedictsen’s CHAPTER 1

work and promote young Lithuania in Denmark. He did it through diplomatic channels and by arranging cultural events like exhibitions and concerts28, by personally approaching the intellectual guru Georg Brandes29 and by contributing to the Danish press. He came to Denmark in 1915, as a delegate of the Lithuanian Society for the Relief of War Sufferers, which functioned under the Danish Red Cross. There, he arranged publication of postcards with Lithuanian themes, and people could support this cause by purchasing them. In 1917, he published the longer article “Lithuania’s Present and Future”30, in which he spoke of the country’s determination to pursue independence and seek cooperation with its neighbours. The same year he started working on a book in Danish that would come out in 1919 with the title Gleam (Lysskær). Comprised of articles by several authors on Lithuania’s political, economic and cultural realities, it aimed at testifying to the democratic direction of the new state and, as is clear from Savickis’s opening plea, at making it an attractive partner for Denmark, not only in terms of trade: Having been reborn, we stretch our hands towards you […]. Copenhagen – this city with eternally rattling cranes in the shipyards, the city of beautiful towers, and the city of joys, – this city that also resonates with care for the misfortune of others [...] it will also have an ear for Lithuania. Lithuania does not yet exist on the maps, it is swallowed as a piece of a larger whole! However, it is not only for the sake of the future commodity market, but also in the name of cultural knowledge and for a closer and friendlier mutual relationship of spirit, that this awareness is undeniably necessary.31 Meyer Benedictsen translated the biggest part of the texts in the book and an introduction to his biography, written by Savickis, precedes Meyer Benedictsen’s own article “The Reborn Lithuania” (Det genfødte Litauen). There, he takes great care to describe not only the political circumstances that made the emergence of the new state possible, but also the first signs of the country’s modernisation, despite the devastations of war, and, especially, its resolute cultural drive. He introduces the Danes to the names of Lithuanian artists (Čiurlionis, 30

Letter from the Danish Ministry of Foreign Affairs to Meyer Benedictsen, 19 May 1924. (Photo: Private)

CHAPTER 1

People attending gala dinner in Kaunas (Photo: Private)

Petrauskas, Rimša, Maironis, Landsbergis (Žemkalnis), Krėvė, Gira, Vydūnas), and “measures” the nation’s “will of expression and vital power” in numbers of published books. The emphasis on culture is further strengthened in this book by the inclusion of a political essay by the writer and bishop Juozas Tumas-Vaižgantas, and, especially, of Savickis’s own autobiographical sketch “Blue rockets. An undated diary” (Blaa Raketter. En dagbog uden data), which now exists in the Lithuanian language only in translation from Danish.32 The same year Savickis published another book, A Journey Through Lithuania (En Rejse gennem Litauen), which offers glimpses into Lithuania’s (and also Latvia’s) life immediately after WWI and has a foreword by Georg Brandes. It was also on Savickis’s initiative that the English translation of Meyer Benedictsen’s Lithuanian book, with some small textual omissions, but supplied with a special author’s preface, new illustrations and a contemporary map of the country, was published in Copenhagen as Lithuania: The Awakening of a Nation – A Study of the Past and Present of the Lithuanian People. Savickis’s letters show that 32

Meyer Benedictsen had been involved in this project, and probably even made the translation, and also that the book was being prepared for publication in 1917.33 It was probably delayed due to problems with funding, but having been eventually funded by the Lithuanian government and published in 1924, it was distributed through diplomatic channels and used for official representation (Letter from the Danish Ministry of Foreign Affairs to Meyer Benedictsen, 19 May 1924). According to Savickis34, it was well received, especially in the Nordic countries. It was also welcomed with joy in the Lithuanian press35 and a year earlier Meyer Benedictsen and his second wife Katri Benedictsen were received in Lithuania with great fanfare. They travelled the country, visiting Pažaislis, Kaunas and Biržai, and in Kaunas a gala dinner, hosted by President Smetona was arranged in their honour at Three Dukes’ Hall in the celebrated restaurant Metropolis, with many representatives of the Lithuanian political and cultural elite present.36 It took many more years,before the Lithuanian translation of the book appeared. Some excerpts of the book were later translated by Savickis and published in Skaitymai (1920). It was, however, first translated in its entirety from English by a graduate of Vilnius University, Skirmantė Ramanauskaitė, on the initiative of her supervisor Lionginas Pažūsis, and published in 1997. Very soon, the book attracted attention of politicians, scholars and cultural enthusiasts. At least three academic conferences and seminars (in 1996, 2006 and 2012) were dedicated to the book and its author, and quite a few organisations were involved: the Vytautai Club and the Lithuanian-Danish Society, the Royal Danish Embassy and Danish Cultural Institute, Vilnius University, Association Norden Lietuva and Baltoscandia Academy, Club Norden: Benedictsen’s Friends, Plokščiai school and probably others. The proceedings of the first conference came out as a separate publication37, and in connection with the second conference, the Danish Royal Embassy organised an essay competition, in which students were invited to reflect on Meyer Benedictsen’s importance for Lithuania and its culture.38 In Plokščiai, where some of these events also took place, one can find a display in Meyer Benedictsen’s honour at the local school museum, which also takes care of some personal items donated by members of the writer’s family. CHAPTER 1

THE BOOK’S SIGNIFICANCE The Lithuanian historian Vaidotas Mažeika39 in his brilliant study of Lithuanian-Danish relations in the inter-war period, sadly remarks that Meyer Benedictsen’s book of 1895 had hardly achieved more than evoking sympathy with its Danish reader: several decades later, little was known in Denmark about Lithuania. This is probably true with regard to its direct political influence in Denmark. However, the fact that it was chosen from several books for the promotion of Lithuania’s name in the world40 shows that Savickis believed in its power to move people’s minds and hearts. The significance of the book, although difficult to pinpoint exactly, may be scattered through different fields and times – as complex as the book is. It remains a trusted source of information, an eye-witness recount of the most diverse aspects related to the area where the Lithuanians (and other peoples) traditionally lived. References to the book are quite ample in contemporary humanities research, for example: Roepstorff & Simoniukštytė 2005, 168-185; Briedis 2016, 30; Pocevičius 2016, 479-450; Kalnius 2010, 20; Kasparavičius 2006, 302 and Rabinowitz 2018, 14. It is also valuable as a depository, the only one of its kind, of Danish translations and presentations of Lithuanian folk songs – a tradition that has been inscribed into UNESCO’s list of intangible world heritage and that has played a key role in Lithuania’s second national awakening – the Singing Revolution of the late 1980. The book could have also served for young Lithuania (those who steered the country’s course knew of it, and some had even met its writer in person) as a barometer of where a change was needed to be accepted as a modern state. For example, that it was important that women should have access to education and other civil rights – there is a telling episode in the book about an enlightened young man’s sister who looks “as if she stepped right out of an old daina (song)” and who can “neither read nor write, but can go to church”.41 It was crucial to dispel Lithuania’s image as a technically and culturally backward country. Who knows, but maybe the Danish farmers who settled in Lithuania in the ‘20s42 also found encouragment in the words about the rich Lithuanian soil which cried out for progressive ways of farming.43 34

According to Bjørnlund44, the book has (re)constructed the Lithuanian nation. Indeed, it collects in one place the country’s major ingredients: history, territory, (folk)culture, traditions, language, etc. It has been used in Lithuanian public discourse, especially immediately after the publication of its translation, to encourage national confidence, which had been repressed under the Soviet rule. Now, when many Lithuanians have freed themselves from the complex of the nation as eternal ‘innocent sufferers’45 and see the future of the country as an open civil society, Benedictsen’s book has gained new relevance. It is a reminder of the neccessity to self-check with regard to the situation of the state’s own ethnic and other minorities and of the danger for a nation to ‘“build walls of prejudice around its own pettiness” (to quote again the dedication to Brandes). For Meyer Benedictsen, being a nationalist or internationalist had hardly ever been a matter of choice, and his persistent will to know and understand other nations did not reduce his love for and interest in his own country. In everything he did, he was a humanist first of all, who defended the dignity of life, both with regard to individuals and their communities. According to Moltesen46, Meyer Benedictsen proved that individuality and universality, nationalism and internasionalism go well together. THINGS TO REMEMBER For the author of this contribution, there is one more, personal, aspect to the significance of Benedictsen and his book. It serves as a connection to the work of my parents, already gone, and especially to my mother, Svetlana Steponavičienė (1936-2019) who was a big enthusiast of everything Danish and also a professional Scandinavianist. She wrote her PhD on the Icelandic author Halldór Laxness at Leningrad’s (St. Petersburg) university, where she also learnt Danish. She later perfected it in Denmark, where she taught Russian at Aarhus University in the 80s, when according to the Soviet rotation scheme, the time had come for Vilnius University to send its lecturer to Denmark. She was the only candidate who could comply with the Danish language requirement, and this episode of her biography, much fictionalised, has found its way into the novel Sæt Asta fri (2010) by Hans Otto Jørgensen. During CHAPTER 1

the years of Soviet occupation, she was also the first to teach some optional Scandinavian subjects at Vilnius University, which attracted both students, scholars and cultural workers. Some of them would later become professional translators from Scandinavian languages. One was Leonas Petravičius (1940-2014), who, among other things, translated novels by Herman Bang and William Heinesen. In 1989, Steponavičienė became one of the founders of the once very active Lithuanian Danish Society and later of the Association Norden Lietuva. She would also act as one of the many ‘ambassadors’ for Vilnius European Capital of Culture (2009), helping with contacts in the Nordic countries, and especially Denmark. For many years she was passionately involved, on voluntary basis, which is still not very usual in Lithuania, in building bridges between Danes and Lithuanians from most diverse walks of life. She was often called by her numerous Danish friends by the same epithet as Meyer Benedictsen: “en ildsjæl” (soul of fire) and she also did a lot to make his name known. She was part of all the earlier mentioned events and it was also through her that a contact was established with three descendants of Katri and Åge Meyer Benedictsen’s foster children: Tove Lis Schmid Hansen, Irene Benedictsen and Kurt Daell. It is also primarily on the basis of the material that Steponavičienė had collected that the present article is written. She herself intended one day to hand this collection over to an official archive. There are all editions of Meyer Benedictsen’s book in all three of the languages in which it was published and some of his other publications, as well as papers from the 2006 conference that were left unpublished due to the lack of funds and some letters written in connection with it. There are even some of Meyer Benedictsen’s original letters and postcards entrusted to her by his family (some with corners clipped off – probably someone had deemed the postal mark to be of higher value than the card itself ). One can also find there the full text by Finn Ørveille (1935-2004): “Åge Meyer Benedictsen 1866-1927. Sprog, kultur og nationalitetsfølelse” (Language, culture and national sentiment), a paper read at an international seminar dedicated to Lithuanian studies, which took place in Plokščiai in 1996 and whose Lithuanian translation was included into the 1997 edition of the book, but which seems to have never come out in its original form. There is a paper on Meyer Benedictsen in German, handwritten and read by 36

Leonas Petravičius at the first conference organised by the Lithuanian Danish Society “Lithuania-Denmark: Governmental, Professional and Personal Contacts in the Past and Present” (1992). There are also copies of letters from and to Meyer Benedictsen, including two by Jurgis Savickis (in 1923 and 1924) that Steponavičienė had found in the Danish National Archive and that had not been published before. In that archive, yet unsorted, there are materials relating to other contacts between Lithuania and Denmark that Steponavičienė knew of and tried to communicate further. With the natural circulation and co-operation of all sorts between the two countries constantly expanding, with ever-new generations of students of Danish graduating from Vilnius University and research being done by Lithuanian scholars in various fields of Scandinavian Studies, a list of such contacts becomes endless. However, having in mind the fragility of memory and the limited span of an individual life, we should probably put our heads together (as they say in Danish) and start looking for ways to collect from different sources and arrange into a more systematic catalogue or archive the earliest facts and testimonies of intersections between Denmark and Lithuania, so that the generations of tomorrow will be able to explore the co-operation, which originated more than 100 years ago in the remarkable Danish man Åge Meyer Benedictsen. Åge Meyer Benedictsen’s work and his friendship with Jurgis Savickis prove the importance of combining culture, personal engagement and diplomacy, and can serve as an inspiration in further stimulating and cherishing the relations between Lithuania and Denmark.

CHAPTER 1

References

Benedictsen Meyer, Åge. Polens Fald og dets Kampe for Genoprejsningen, Universitetsudvalget, 1899 —. Overblik over det islandske Folks Historie, Dansk-Islandsk Samfund, 1918 —. Lithuania. The Awakening of a Nation. A Study of the past and present of the Lithuanian people, Egmont H. Petersens Kgl. Hof-bogtrykkeri, 1924 —. Armenien: et Folks Liv og Kamp gennem to Aartusinder, De danske Armeniervenner, 1925 —. Armenien. En Folkeskæbne, De danske Armeniervenner, 1927 —. Lietuva, bundanti tauta.Translated by S. Ramanauskaitė, revised against the Danish original by D. Novikovaitė, Tyto alba, 1997 Baycroft, Timothy & David Hopkin (eds.). Folklore and Nationalism in Europe During the Long Nineteenth Century, Brill, 2012 Bjørnlund, Matthias. En Excentrisk Komet, Goldberg: Magasin om jødisk kunst, kultur, religion, samfund, 2007, 1 (4) —. Karen Jeppe, Aage Meyer Benedictsen, and the Ottoman Armenians: National survival in imperial and colonial settings. Haigazian Armenological Review, 2008, 28 Briedis, L. Locating Vilnius on the Map of Translation. In S. Simon (Ed.), Speaking Memory: How Translation Shapes City Life, McGill-Queen’s University Press, 2016 Clark, Terry D. Nationalism in Post-Soviet Lithuania. New Approaches for the Nation of ”Innocent Sufferers”. In L. W. Barrington (Ed.) After Independence. Making and Protecting the Nation in Postcolonial and Postcommunist States, The University of Michigan Press, 2006 Christensen, Arthur. Some new Awromānī Material prepared from the collections of Åge Meyer Benedictsen. Bulletin of the School of Oriental and African Studies, 1936, 8(2-3) Grigaravičiūtė, Sandra. Lietuvos konsulatai Skandinavijoje 1921–1940 metais, Lietuvos edukologijos universiteto leidykla, 2007

Guðni Th. Jóhannesson. Icelandic support for Baltic independence: myth, memory and detachment, Ajalooline Ajakiri, 2016, 3/4 (157/158) Hroch, Miroslav. Social Pre-conditions of National Revival in Europe, Cambridge University Press, 1985 Jensen, Jens Marinus. Åge Meyer Benedictsen. Kolding Folkebladet, 1966-07-13 Kalnius, Petras. Žemaičių etniškumo sampratos XIX a. šaltiniuose, Liaudies kultūra, 2010, 2 Landsbergis, Vytautas. Mūsų patriotizmas, jų šovinizmas. Vilnius: Mokslo ir enciklopedijų leidybos centras, 2013 Meyer Benedictsen, Katri & Jens Marinus Jensen (eds.) Åge Meyer Benedictsen: De undertrykte nationers tolk. Udvalgte artikler og mindeord, 2 vol. Nyt Nordisk Forlag, 1934-1935 Meyer, Åge. Finnerne og deres Land, Studentersamfundets Forlag, 1891 —. Et Folk, der vaagner: Kulturbilleder fra Litaven, Gyldendalske Boghandels Forlag, 1895 Mažeika, Vaidotas. Denmark’s relations with Lithuania from 1918 to 1940. In his Danijos santykiai su Lietuva 1918-1940, LII Leidykla, 2002 Moltesen, Laust. Mindeord. In Meyer Benedictsen & Jensen 1934 Plakans, Andrejs. A Concise History of The Baltic States, Cambridge University Press, 2011 Pocevičius, D. 100 istorinių Vilniaus reliktų. Kitos knygos, 2016 Rabinowitz, Dan. The Lost Library: The Legacy of Vilna’s Strashun Library in the Aftermath of the Holocaust, Brandeis University Press, 2018 Roepstorff, Andreas & Aušra Simoniukštytė. Cherishing the Nation’s Time and Space: Lithuanian Identity and the Maintenance of Tradition. In T. Otto and P. Pedersen (eds.) Tradition and Agency: Tracing cultural continuity and invention, Aarhus University Press, 2005 Savickis, Jurgis (ed.). Lysskær: en samling politiske og økonomiske afhandlinger om Litauen, E.H. Petersen, 1919 —. Mindeord. In Meyer Benedictsen & Jensen 1934 —. En rejse gennem Litauen, E. Jespersen, 1919 —. Laiškai (ed. J. Žekaitė), Raštai, T. 5, 1998

CHAPTER 1

—. Publicistika (ed. J. Žekaitė), Raštai, T. 6, 1999 Steponavičienė, Svetlana. Apie Laxnessą ir Benedictseną, Krantai, 2009, Nr. 1. Savickis, Jurgis. Raštai. T.V. Laiškai. Vilnius: Vaga, 1998. Savickis, Jurgis. Raštai. T.VI. Laiškai. Vilnius: Vaga, 1999 Schütte, Gudmund. Åge Meyer Benedictsen, en dansk ildånd, Islandsk Aarbog, 1935/ Nomos, http://www.nomos-dk.dk/folket/schytte6.html Skrodenis, Stasys (ed.). Nemuno krašto aidai. Laiškai Mailai ir Josepiui Mikoloms. Vilnius: Džiugas 1996. Tulevičius, Vytautas, Elena Bukelienė & Lionginas Pažūsis (eds.), Åge Meyer Benedictsen and his book Lithuania. The Awakening of a Nation. Proceedings of the conference 25 September 1999, Vilniaus Vytautų klubas, 2000 Venclova, Tomas. Lietuvos istorija visiems, 2, R. Paknio leidykla, 2019 Ørveille, Finn. Åge Meyer Benedictsen (1866-1927). In Meyer Benedictsen 1997

CHAPTER 2

LITHUANIA’S FIGHT FOR INDEPENDENCE IN 1918-1921 – A DANISH PERSPECTIVE By Mikkel Kirkebæk, PhD, Historian and Writer In continuation of Mikkel Kirkebæk’s research on the Danish voluntary soldiers’ participation in Estonia’s and Latvia’s war for independence, he elaborates on the early history of Danish-Lithuanian relations, which were also greatly defined by the complex international context after the First World War. Mikkel Kirkebæk explains why Denmark offered to send a peace-preserving military contingent to Lithuania in connection with the political handling of Vilnius’ status and why it never took place.

INTRODUCTION ”The history of Lithuania up until the days of the World War is so unhappily similar to that of South Jutland that we here in Denmark are following with the utmost interest and sympathy this small country’s valiant fight for independence, freedom and justice!”1 These words in a Danish newspaper accurately summed up the Danes’ view on Lithuania in 1919. Since 1864, the southern part of the kingdom of Denmark, The Duchy of Schleswig, or Southern Jutland, had been annexed by Germany, so the Lithuanian wish to emancipate itself from its imperialist neighbours was easily relatable for the Danes. But despite this fundamental sympathy and appreciation for the Lithuanian cause, the Lithuanian independence efforts were met by Danish authorities with a reluctant kindness in 1918 and the following years. The relationship between Denmark and Lithuania was not just about sympathy and CHAPTER 2

understanding, but also, at a larger scale, about Danish foreign policy and security interests, and this affected Danish policy towards Lithuania to a large degree in the years 1918 to 1921. This article is about Danish‑Lithuanian relations in the years following the end of the World War in 1918 until the formal recognition of Lithuania by Denmark in 1921, focusing in particular on the Danish order of political priorities regarding Lithuania and the other Baltic states during their military and political struggle for independence. DANISH SUPPORT FOR THE LITHUANIAN NATIONAL MOVEMENT? The patriotic trends in Europe from the mid‑1800s also affected the ethnic minorities in Tsarist Russia. Lithuania experienced an increasing focus on national identity in the 1800s, and as in other places in Russia, the empire sought to suppress any notion of nationalism that could potentially lead to separatism. But the Russian restrictions against the use of Lithuanian language and its engagement in ideas of Lithuanian national identity had a counter‑productive effect, and by the end of the century, the national movement was gaining increasing support in the population. One of the Lithuanians who spent a lot of time and energy on the national cause was the artist Jurgis Savickis, who resided in Copenhagen. During the World War, Savickis organized aid to the Lithuanian prisoners of war in Germany on behalf of the Danish Red Cross, and he became one of the most prominent voices in Denmark to speak to the Lithuanian national cause. As an unofficial representative during the World War, and later as the de facto Lithuanian envoy, Savickis considered it his imperative task to enlighten the Danes about Lithuania, and to forge as many bonds between the two nations as possible. During the World War, by the end of July 1918, Jurgis Savickis wrote a long article in the Danish newspaper Berlingske Aften about the Lithuanian struggle for independence. Despite the German army’s tight grip on the eastern front, and on Lithuania in particular, Savickis did not conceal the fact that the 42

More than 2.000 Danes joined a voluntarily fight for the freedom of the Baltic countries, but because of the economic difficulties only the first corps with 200 men were sent off. Both Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania were mentioned as destinations for the Danish volunteers, but eventually they were put under Estonian command. On this picture, the Danish corps is lined up shortly before departure.

people’s wish for the future was for an independent Lithuanian state. In the newspaper, Savickis described the organization of new national initiatives and institutions in Lithuania and added to that the Lithuanian expectations of Denmark: “… we expect to find a friendly ear for a long‑subdued country, which is now in the act of fully breaking free,” as Savickis put it.* The wish for a friendly ear in Copenhagen came true to some extent, but in the waning months of the World War, it was also clear that the Lithuanians would need more than that to secure their independence. The Balts and the Entente powers were worried about what would happen to the Baltic region once the German troops withdrew after their defeat, which was approaching as the Entente powers successfully advanced on the Western Front. The worry was that the Bolsheviks

Initially, Savickis operated out of the Red Cross‑premises in Christiansborg castle, where he had been given an temporarily. Later on, he operated out of hotel rooms, until late 1919, when Savickis was able to find more permanent representation in a villa in Frederiksberg. J. Savickis had been approved as Lithuania’s de facto representative after Voldemaras’ visit in January 1919. Berlingske Politiske og Avertissementstidende Aften 24 July 1918: ”Ekko fra Litauen. Mellem russisk og tysk Krydsild”, p. 3; Dagbladet 6 February 1919: ”Skandinavien og de nye Østersø‑Stater”, p. 7; Mazeika, Vaidotas: Danijos santykiai su lietuva 1918‑1940 m. Leidykla 2002, p. 321

CHAPTER 2

would take advantage of the German retreat to reconquer the areas the Brest‑Litovsk accord had forced them to cede, and then launch a Red march on Western Europe. The Baltic national movements, which could potentially act as a cushion against the Bolshevik advance, were not yet strong enough to defend the Baltic region against the Red Army, so outside military help was required. The populations and armed forces of the Entente countries were fatigued after more than four years of war, so it was unlikely that they would exhibit any desire after the war to send Entente forces against the Bolsheviks in the Baltic. Therefore, in October 1918, the British tried to pressure the Scandinavian countries into contributing troops to the protection of Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania. On 28 October 1918, the Foreign Office issued a formal request to the governments of the three Scandinavian countries, outlining at first the difficult situation that would arise in the Baltic when the German troops withdrew from the area. Then it stated quite explicitly what the English wished from the Scandinavians: “… unless help is provided from outside the Esthonians, the Letts, and Lithuanians must lie open to the Bolsheviks attack long before they can hope to organize their own forces for defence. This can neither be for their interests nor for the interest of civilization, and perhaps the most satisfactory solution would be that the (…) Scandinavian Governments in agreement, should adopt the suggestion which has already been made, and render military protection to these small States.”* *

The Danish government was made aware of the contents of the letter in the form of an “aide mémoire”, which was delivered by Kilmarnock to the Foreign Ministry the next day. On the same day that the aide mémoire was delivered in Copenhagen, the Danish Foreign Ministry sent to Oslo and Stockholm to inquire about the Norwegian and Swedish governments’ positions on the matter. At the same time as they sent the request to the Scandinavian governments, the British sent information about the contents of the memorandum to the American government, asking the Americans to help put pressure on the governments in Oslo, Stockholm and Copenhagen through their representatives in the Scandinavian capitals. National Archive (NA). Foreign Office (FO) 371/3344. Memorandum from Foreign Office to Stockholm, Christiania and Copenhagen, dated 28 October 1918; FRUS 1918. Foreign Relations, 1918, Russia, Vol. II., Chapter VII., The Baltic Countries. (Papers relating to foreign relations of The United States of America), p. 839‑841. Letter from Barclay to the Secretary of State, dated 31. October 1918; Rigsarkivet (RA). Udenrigsministeriets arkiv (UM). Grouped cases 1909‑45, pk. 147‑175, Aide mémoire, dated 29 October1918 and letters to the Danish envoys in Kristiania and Stockholm; Jensen 1979 (1), p. 136‑137.

The Scandinavian countries now found themselves facing several big dilemmas. Just like the national movements in the Baltic, the Scandinavians welcomed a German retreat from the Baltic Sea area, but on the other hand, a German retreat could spell an even greater danger to the Scandinavian countries, in the form of a possible Bolshevik advance. So, there were objective arguments in favour of deploying Danish, Swedish and Norwegian troops in the Baltic region, but there were also strong arguments against it. Specifically, the Scandinavian countries feared the consequences of an intervention that carried with it the risk – or rather, the likelihood – of political and military confrontation with nearby great powers such as Bolshevist Russia and Germany. Then there was the neutrality policy to consider, and the challenges and potentially vast cost of military resources that the undertaking would entail. However, it would be difficult for the Scandinavian countries to flat out refuse the wishes of the Entente powers, as they would be coming out of the World War as Europe’s undisputed victors. Amidst these deliberations, Denmark was approached directly from Lithuania.2 In the beginning of November 1918, the Danish foreign ministry was in correspondence with the Danish envoy in Berlin about possible Danish military aid to the Baltic countries. The foreign ministry wrote: “In this respect, permit me to notify you that the Foreign Ministry has been approached in writing and in person by two representatives from Lithuania: Count Tyszkiewicz and mister Jean Klott, who are said to represent the socialist and conservative parties respectively, in any case a significant part of Lithuania. This appeal is chiefly about troop deployments, and secondarily about equipment and moral support.”3 Anyone hoping that any of the following report would be about Denmark’s prospects for helping a small Baltic sister nation in need would be quite disappointed. The Lithuanian request was promptly swept aside by the Danish foreign ministry. “The aforementioned two Lithuanian gentlemen obtained only the verbal response that the ministry would acquaint itself with the written request presented to it, but that it was of the opinion that any actual help would be unimaginable.”4 It was clear that the Lithuanians’ difficult situation and wish for independence was not a very high priority within the Danish state apparatus. Of the report’s four pages, not much more than these few lines were about Lithuania’s problems and pleas. The rest of the report was about the questions that might arise from the request regarding the CHAPTER 2

great powers, particularly the relations between Denmark and Britain. These relations were taken very, very seriously, and no diplomatic stone went unturned. As this example makes clear, the Danish government was not particularly forthcoming, helpful or sympathetic towards the Lithuanians in 1918. Maybe that was not so surprising after all. As noted by Norwegian historian Tom Kristiansen, no‑one could predict in 1918 which of the many national and regional independencies – self‑declared in the chaos that ensued after the dissolution of the empires – would prove stable in the long term. The probability of Russia or Germany dominating the Baltic region again soon was considered greater than that of actual Lithuanian independence. Therefore, the Danish government was not very concerned with its relationship to the Lithuanians in 1918. What was of critical importance to Denmark and the other Scandinavian countries with regards to the Baltic question was the relationship to the British, and none of the Scandinavian countries wanted to strain their relationship with the superpower.5 Despite pressure for a more active Danish role in the Baltic fight for independence, Denmark would hesitantly decline the British request, and not even take the Lithuanian request under consideration. The fact that the question of Scandinavian military aid to Lithuania and the Baltic was raised during a World War was a contributing factor to the dismissive Scandinavian attitude. Being neutral powers, the Scandinavians could not politically support troop deployments at the request of one side in the war. Even before the World War had ended, it was clear that the British and Baltic attempts to get Scandinavian “boots on the ground” in the Baltic had failed. The British could not conceal their disappointment over the Scandinavians’ unwillingness to take any responsibility on their own doorstep. A British representative in Norway wrote the following in a report from November 4, 1918: “It seems most probable that in absence of any direct incentive Scandinavia will again trust the Entente to act for them and save them from dangers of Bolshevism unless perhaps they agree to permit Volunteers to go.”6 The latter option turned out to be exactly the political horse‑trade which was made to ensure that Denmark stayed on good terms with the superpowers, despite having declined to contribute official armed forces to the Baltic. Although the neutrality policy meant that the 46

Danish government was fundamentally against sending Danish weapons and soldiers to the Baltic, it now allowed a secret export of 900 Madsen machine guns – a state‑of‑the‑art Danish‑produced light machine gun – to Great Britain, fully aware that the weapons would go straight to the Balts. The Danish government also gave the Royal Navy permission to use Copenhagen as a base for British activities in the Baltic. In addition, the Danish government decided to close its eyes to the recruitment of volunteers, as long as it was done covertly. This provided an opening for private Danish operators to start preparing for a Danish military expedition to the Baltic, and as we will see later, Lithuania was briefly considered as a possible recipient of the Danish volunteer corps, which was now being formed to be able to assist the Baltic countries in their anti‑Bolshevist struggle. The reason that the Danish government found it so important to be on good terms with the British in late 1918 is because there was another diplomatic game going on at the same time, in which support and goodwill from the victors of the World War was of paramount importance. It involved a strong Danish wish to re‑annex at least parts of The Duchy of Schleswig, which the kingdom of Denmark had lost to Germany in the war of 1864, and which the new European order after the World War offered an opportunity for Denmark to regain. Shortly after the British had made their request for Danish troops in the Baltic, Permanent Under‑Secretary at the Foreign Office, Lord Hardinge reported a conversation with the Danish prime minister during which the latter had remarked that he hoped the question of South Jutland would not be forgotten at the coming peace conference.* The British stance towards a Danish re‑annexation of the Danish‑minded parts of South Jutland was fundamentally positive,

As Lord Hardinge simply uses the term “The Danish Minister”, it is unclear exactly which minister is in question, but judging from the context, it appears to be the foreign minister NA. FO 371/3345 Information from Lord Hardinge to Balfour, dated 18 November 1918. For more on the allies’ position on the Schleswig question at the peace conference in Paris, see Lundgreen‑Nielsen, Kay: De allierede og det slesvigske spørgsmål på fredskonferencen i Paris 1919. Printed in: Johansen, Hans Chr., Pedersen, Mogens N. og Thomsen, Jørgen (ed.): Festskrift til Tage Kaarsted. Om Danmarks historie 1900–1920. Odense Universitetsforlag 1988, p. 189‑210.

CHAPTER 2

and it was important for Denmark to keep it that way.* The dates on the documents indicate that the Danish lobbying in relation to the South Jutland question coincided closely with the British pressure on Denmark to contribute Danish troops to the Baltic. Considering that Denmark had refused the allies’ request for official troops to be deployed to the border states, to the considerable displeasure of the British, it would hardly be a good idea to also reject the British wish for volunteer troops if Denmark wanted the continued support of the Entente in the question of South Jutland. But, as previously mentioned, the deployment of troops, official or volunteers, could not happen in any official capacity, so the support of the Baltic was left to private Danish operators. THE END OF THE WAR AND THE NEW SCOPE OF HIGH POLITICS IN LITHUANIA Although Germany won the war on the eastern front, the World War would be decided definitively on the western front. Following the Brest‑Litovsk agreement, large troop contingents were transferred from the eastern to the western front, but the desired result was not achieved. World War 1 had developed into a war of attrition, and the German high command had to acknowledge that Germany could not win – especially since the USA had entered the war on the side of the allies. On 11 November 1918, Germany signed an armistice agreement, thereby ending World War 1. On the last day of the World War, Augustinas Voldemaras was able to form a national government in Lithuania with himself as prime minister, and shortly thereafter, the organizing of Lithuanian national forces began.7 However, the situation was incredibly complex in in the areas deemed by Lithuanian nationalists to constitute rightful parts of the new state, in some of which Polish, Jewish and Belarussian groups formed the majority. In addition, some inhabitants of Lithuania would not automatically support the national cause, because they preferred

On 13 December 1918, the Danish government officially requested that the British government raise the Schleswig question at the peace conference in Paris, which would determine the future borders in Europe. Kaarsted, Tage: Storbritannien og Danmark 1914–1920. Odense University Press 1975, p. 150; Hovi 1980, p. 84, 118, 121

For the Danish volunteers, the fight against Communism was very important, and therefore the corps was happy to have joined the battle in Russia. The idea was to establish a forward defence so that the battle against the communists did not take place on Baltic ground. On this picture, the Danish troops are getting ready for battle in a Russian village near Ostrov. The Danish volunteers were equipped by the Englishmen and therefore wore English helmets. However, the main armament was the light and modern Danish Madsenmachine guns, which are shown on a line in front of the soldiers.

to be part of the Bolshevist social revolution. Lithuania was under pressure, not just from Germany and Bolshevist Russia, but also from other big operators that had an interest in the future of the Lithuanian areas. The loyalist White Russian forces, who wanted a new, undivided Russian empire, built on the borders from the time before the World War, and neighbouring Poland, which considered the area around Vilnius to be Polish territory, were particularly prominent among these. In addition, there was a problematic relationship with the Entente powers. During the World War, Great Britain had supported and encouraged the national movements to weaken Germany, which had occupied the Baltic region at the time. The British continued this policy after the war ended, only now the primary goal was to weaken and contain Bolshevist Russia. The desire to curb the Bolshevist threat also meant supporting the counter‑revolutionary White Russian forces, which were playing an increasingly prominent role. This was largely in step with France, which wanted a strong counterbalance to Germany, and therefore did not want Russia to end up too weak CHAPTER 2

and torn apart.8 In that respect, the Baltic countries’ endeavours for independence were considered counter‑productive, or at best secondary to France’s strategic aspirations for the region.9 Small, weak states like the Baltics were considered politically unstable, and since they were likely to become sources of future unrest, broadly speaking, there was no reason to even attempt these unviable formations of state.* Another peculiar condition for Lithuania was the fact that France was very focused on accommodating Poland’s interests, to the detriment of Lithuania’s. Like White Russia, a strong Poland was seen by France as an important cushion against Bolshevism, and an important counterweight to Germany.10 From a British perspective, the French position could not simply be ignored, and this resulted in a hesitant British policy towards Lithuania. Since the British military effort in the Baltic was limited to naval activities, the British were less involved militarily in Lithuania than was the case in Estonia and Latvia. America offered no help either: “All pleas hit a blank wall,” as American/Lithuanian political scientist Albert N. Tarulis expressed it.11 The national movement in Lithuania was facing almost insurmountable challenges, and the road to independence seemed everything but easy. The hesitant or even negative attitude from the allies towards Lithuanian endeavours for independence meant that the national forces were on their own or left to find other alliances – in Scandinavia, for instance. THE FIGHT AGAINST THE BOLSHEVIKS AND VOLDEMARAS’ VISIT TO COPENHAGEN AT THE TURN OF THE YEAR 1918/19 After the German capitulation in the World War, the Bolsheviks cancelled the Brest‑Litovsk agreement, and with it their recognition of the independencies of the Baltic states. Bolshevist‑Russian troops began

Sørensen 2005, p. 304. On several occasions, the Americans in Washington expressed opinions that were similar to France’s regarding the desire for a strong, future Russia, to function as a counterweight to Germany and Japan. But conflicting viewpoints also emerged, for example from the members of the American military commission to the Baltic. See Tarulis 1965, p. 55‑56

marching on the borders of the Baltic states, and in December 1918, the invasion of Lithuania began.12 Shortly before, Anatanas Smetona and Augustinas Voldemaras had travelled to Western Europe to request political and military assistance in the critical situation. In the days around the turn of the year 1918/19, Voldemaras visited Copenhagen, where he gave an interview to the Danish press. Berlingske Tidende, a newspaper, described his visit: “Prime minister of Lithuania, Professor A. Voldemaras, who has arrived here as an envoy from the Lithuanian government to negotiate with the Danish government, has made the following statement: ‑ My presence here is of an informal nature, and as such, not official. I come as an envoy for the provisory government in Lithuania and did yesterday achieve, after negotiations with Foreign Minister Scavenius, that Denmark will assume the same attitude towards Lithuania as Switzerland and Sweden so far, which is to de facto recognise the Lithuanian diplomatic envoy, without thereby pre‑empting the official recognition of Lithuania as a sovereign state.”13 As Voldemaras’ description of his meeting with the Danish government shows, he had not succeeded in achieving Danish military and political assistance to Lithuania. The fact that the Danish government acknowledged Savickis as a de facto representative of Lithuania was positive, seen from a Lithuanian standpoint. But it also highlighted how far Voldemaras really was from reaching his goal of unequivocal Danish support, at a time when it was needed the most. The Danish policy towards the Baltic was more or less aligned with what the Entente powers wanted for the region, and since none of them had officially recognized Lithuania at the time, the Danish government had neither the will nor the ability to offer any substantial political help or support. Despite the rejection, Voldemaras did not abandon his hope for support from Denmark to the Lithuanian cause, and he spent his time in Copenhagen sowing the seeds that might in time help the relationship between Denmark and Lithuania grow. In the aforementioned article, Voldemaras was asked what interest Lithuania would have in associating itself with Denmark. To this, Voldemaras replied: “The people of Lithuania have always felt a strong bond and sympathy with the people of the north, with Scandinavia and Finland, and are now looking to rid ourselves totally of Russian and Polish CHAPTER 2

influence. We will seek to associate ourselves with the North to the largest degree possible, both culturally, commercially, and, when the time is right, also politically.”14 While Lithuania and the other Baltic countries were generally treated favourably by the Danish press, the Danish government took on the role of a kind but reserved observer of developments in the Baltic, while awaiting the coming peace conference in Paris, which would determine the borders in post‑war Europe. But among the more pro‑military, nationally minded Danes, there was a much more profound will to act when it came to supporting the Baltic people in their anti‑Bolshevist struggle. A DANISH VOLUNTEER CORPS TO THE BALTIC – AND LITHUANIA? As early as November 16, 1918, war commissar and supreme commander of the Bolshevik forces Lev Trotsky had announced that the goal of the Red Army was to breach into Western Europe.15 This caused the entire political right in Denmark, as well as leading figures in the army, to believe that Danish military assistance to the Baltic would be beneficial for both. With the Danish government’s tacit approval, and promises of equipment from Britain, a group of pro‑military, nationally minded Danes began to establish a Danish volunteer expeditionary force, called the Danish Baltic Auxiliary Corps. The role of the corps would be to help the Balts, but mainly, it was intended as a forward Danish defence against the Bolsheviks. The two central figures in establishing the corps were Iver Gudme, a young student, and Aage Westenholz, an older, experienced businessman. They had both been involved in the Danish aid to the White side in the Finnish civil war in 1918, Westenholz as an economic benefactor, and Gudme as a volunteer soldier. This cooperation would now continue in the Baltic, and together they laid the framework for a 1000‑man‑strong Danish volunteer army, equipped by the British, but partly financed by private Danish funds.16 In January 1919, there were negotiations with the Estonian government about deploying the corps on the Estonian front lines. But Estonia’s military situation improved, causing the Danish organisers to 52

start considering other options, among them the possibility of using the corps in Lithuania.17 On January 19, Westenholz wrote to his nephew and friend, Viggo de Neergaard: “Things seem to be going well enough in Estonia, but I am now awaiting word from Dr. Runeberg as to whether they want the Danish volunteers for a further advance on Lithuania and Riga, and to us it does not matter where they will be shooting Bolsheviks.”18 The situation in Lithuania was critical, and the Danish volunteers would have been a welcome reinforcement, but both the Estonian and Latvian governments showed great interest in the corps, so it looked increasingly likely that the Danish volunteers would be deployed in Estonia or Latvia. LITHUANIA’S TURN TOWARDS SCANDINAVIA In Lithuania, the Bolshevik advance after their attack in December 1918 had been successful. On January 5, 1919, the Bolsheviks occupied Vilnius, and the Lithuanian national government had to flee to Kaunas.19 At the same time, the German army was slowly retreating from the Lithuanian areas, but the Bolsheviks had no interest in any direct confrontation with Germany, so they simply followed them at the same slow pace. However, the German units halted their retreat temporarily, causing the Bolshevik forces to stop their advance roughly in the middle of Lithuania. Now, eastern Lithuania was in the hands of the Bolsheviks, and the western part was governed by the national Lithuanian government, under the protection of German troops.20 The Germans kept withdrawing troops from Lithuania, but the Lithuanians had steadily been gathering their own forces, which would gradually replace the Germans on the frontlines. In February 1919, the Lithuanian forces had their baptism by fire, and bit by bit, they managed to get the upper hand and push the Bolshevik forces into a defensive position. At the same time, in Copenhagen, Savickis was working tirelessly to promote the Lithuanian cause through the Danish media. Using references that were easy for the Danes to relate to, such as small nations fighting against the influence of and occupation by larger neighbours, he reported to the daily newspapers about the situation in Lithuania: “We have all suffered during the spiritual battles that we have had to fight, not just with CHAPTER 2

the Russians, but also with the Poles and the Germans, who were each looking for influence with us, and did their best to eradicate our national identity, despite us being, after all, a nation of five million, with our own language, our own literature and our own history. We have lived as if we were one big Slesvig [South Jutland].”21 Savickis also made it very clear that Lithuania’s future was to the west, not to the east, and that the Lithuanians felt a strong connection with the North: “That is why we want to join with the Scandinavians as closely as we can – not politically, but culturally. We sympathise with them, we share common interests with them, and we are like them in character and temperament much more than we resemble the Slavs.”22 Even if the Catholic Lithuanians were culturally at some distance from Protestant Scandinavia, and even if, in an hour of need, there was a tendency to emphasise likenesses more than differences, and to prefer hope over realism, Lithuania was in fact positioned geographically on the border between the old East and West. And since imperialist Bolshevism now represented the East, the Lithuanian nationalists naturally turned to the Western democracies in their search for a future model for society – not least after the success of the Western powers in the World War. But, as Lithuanian historian Vaidotas Mazeika notes, Lithuania was also placed centrally on a north‑south axis, meaning that it could choose as a state to identify both with Scandinavia to the north, and Central and Eastern Europe to the south.23 Lithuania was clearly seeking a connection to the north, which is further confirmed by the fact that Antanas Smetona, the Lithuanian leader of the national assembly, visited Copenhagen in 1919. On that occasion, he gave an interview of some length to Berlingske Tidende, under the headline “Lithuania, the re‑invented state – an ancient nation by the Baltic Sea seeks cultural connection with Scandinavia”. The newspaper relayed Smetona’s words in the following way: “I have come here – President Smetana begins – in an attempt to interest the Danish people in entering into a cultural relation with us Lithuanians. […] I am not in Denmark to ask for material aid, let alone assistance to conduct war. But we Lithuanians, who are not Prussians, not Slavs, not Russians, not Mongols, imagine that with the Scandinavian people across the Baltic Sea, we might find an interest in our nationality and our cause. We ourselves feel an ardent kinship with the Scandinavian 54

tribes. We admire the Nordic, free, even, democratic societies.”24 Smetona was well aware of the Danish government’s attitude towards military help, so it was pointless for him to ask for it again. Instead, he focused on broader and more long‑term goals, such as winning sympathy and goodwill from the Danes towards the Lithuanian cause. “We seek friendship in Scandinavia, Mr. Smetana continues. Friendship, a cultural connection and trade connections. I have arrived here from Stockholm, where there is a broad interest in Lithuania and her destiny, and I shall proceed to Norway, to Christiania. Here in Copenhagen, representatives of Lithuania have been met on previous occasion with remarkable sympathy. Our government’s official envoy to the Danish government, Mr. Jurgis Savickis, tells me of the great generous help which the Danish Red Cross has been providing for the benefit of the Lithuanian prisoners of war. I have myself gained a profound impression of Danish hospitality and the Danish understanding and sympathy for our cause.”25 In connection with the presidential visit, Savickis had arranged a dinner party at the Hotel d’Angleterre, with the participation of a number of Danish intellectuals and cultural celebrities who took an interest in the Lithuanian cause.26 Savickis and Smetona would probably have preferred to share the table with official representatives of Denmark, but since that was not an option, others were explored. Smetona did create some attention around the Lithuanian cause in Denmark, at least outside the Danish government offices. This is evident from the comments in the newspaper, which likely reflect the insights of the Danish people into Lithuanian matters: “Before the war there were hardly many in this country who had more than purely geographical knowledge about Lithuania, that the country was situated on the Memel river, and that is was Russian province. During the turmoil of the war, Lithuania’s name has been mentioned more often. Now, following the revolutions of Russia and Germany, Lithuania suddenly emerges as an independent young state.”*

Afterwards, Smetana travelled to Norway, and returned to Copenhagen in late March. Berlingske Politiske og Avertissementstidende 9 March 1919: ”Den genopstandne Stat Litauen”, p. 7. Also in: Randers Dagblad og Folketidende 11 March 1919: ”Den genopstandne Stat Litauen”, p. 4. See also Berlingske Politiske og Avertissementstidende 25 March 1919, p. 5.

CHAPTER 2

Lithuania continued to build a number of state functions simultaneously with the military activities against the Bolsheviks, and on April 4, 1919, Antanas Smetona was formally elected president by the national assembly.27 The threat from the Bolsheviks was still imminent, and the leader of the Danish volunteer corps which was forming in Estonia received a request from a group of Lithuanian representatives. In a letter from corps commander Iver Gudme, who was situated in Tallinn, to the financial and logistical organizer Aage Westenholz, the former wrote on April 16, 1919: “As mentioned in a telegram, a Lithuanian delegation paid me a visit to ask about the possibility of Danes coming to Lithuania. I answered, as is mentioned in the telegram, that when we reach a sufficient tally, it might be possible for us to send some there, but that we would need to secure weapons, uniforms and payment beforehand. They want 2‑3000 men. I referred the delegation, which is going to Copenhagen soon, to the office in Nansensgade [the recruitment office, ed.].” At this time, there was uncertainty as to whether the Estonians were able to raise the money for the Danish volunteers, and Westenholz replied: “… if they have money and the Estonians do not, I see no reason not to give them what men we have available.”28 As it turned out, no Danish auxiliary troops were sent to Lithuania in April 1919, but they got close. On April 19‑20, 1919, Polish troops liberated Vilnius from the Bolshevik forces, and by the end of the summer, those forces were pressured in the direction of the town of Daugavpils on the Daugava river in Latvia. The Danish volunteers, fighting under Estonian command, had taken Jekabpils, which was a little further west on the same river, in early June. Pressured from the west, north and south, the Red Army was forced out of Lithuanian territory altogether.29 In August 1919, a ceasefire agreement between Bolshevik Russia and Lithuania was reached – but it was only a short respite. German interests were once again threatening the Lithuanian territories. A FOREIGN POLICY STALEMATE As the military battles raged in Lithuania, the political struggle for recognition continued. Lithuania’s big problem was that its policy of independence was tightly connected to Poland’s future, and less to that of the 56

Under Estonian leadership, the Danish corps moved through Latvia from north to south and conquered the town Jēkabpils, not far from the Lithuanian border, on 5 June 1919. This picture shows the Danish volunteer soldiers rest during the advance in Latvia.

other Baltic countries. Estonia and Latvia considered Poland a natural ally in the fight against Bolshevik Russia, so a joint Baltic community which favoured Lithuania’s interests over those of Poland could not be established.30 The British had some reservations regarding Lithuania which did not apply to Estonia and Latvia. Contrary to Estonia and Latvia, Lithuania had not been formally recognised in 1918, as the British suspected Lithuania of being pro‑German because of the German‑Lithuanian connections during the World War. The British recognition of Lithuania in September 1919, then, can be seen as an acknowledgement of the Lithuanians’ anti‑Bolshevist struggle, which corresponded well with the British wish to create a series of buffer states in the Baltic, and which was rewarded with de facto recognition.* France, however, did not follow suit, and refrained from recognising Lithuania. Great Britain attached greater importance to its relationship with France than its relationship with Lithuania, which meant that despite the recognition, Britain did not show Lithuania much support. Lithuania was in a quite isolated situation, with sceptical or reluctant Entente powers, and aggressive neighbours

Great Britain was the first of the Entente countries to recognise Lithuania de facto, which happened on 15 September 1919. France did not follow suit with a de facto recognition until 11 May 1920. Great Britain and France recognised Lithuania de jure on December 20, 1922. Kiaupa 2002, p. 328, 331; Hovi 1980, p. 66, 81, 103, 129, 177; Eidintas og Zalys 1997, p. 60 ff.; Senn 1966, p. 60; Clemmesen 2007, p. 21

CHAPTER 2

such as Russia, Germany and Poland. This made Scandinavia an obvious place to look for cooperation and support for the national cause. Not that the Scandinavians had offered any serious previous support for Lithuania, but strictly speaking, there were few other places to turn. In October 1919, Savickis had the following message printed in the Danish papers: “We will have neither benefit nor joy from an association with the Russians. Scandinavia, on the other hand, could benefit from growth, and what we are aspiring to is an association with the Scandinavians, with whom we sympathise, and who are like us in character and mindset. We feel that such an association would be friendly and based on mutual freedom, and that is our goal.”31 The problem with that association, as it had been previously, was that the unconditional declaration of love from the Lithuanians was unreciprocated by the government in Denmark, which had some sympathy for the Lithuanian cause, but continued to see more benefits in getting behind the Entente policy. So the friendly Lithuanian approaches were either ignored or held at arm’s length, and the Danish government refrained from any political support or action. The fact that Lithuania’s relationship to the Entente could prove to be a disadvantage to the national Lithuanian cause was best exemplified in Lithuania’s relationship to Poland. And it was Lithuania’s conflict with its neighbouring state that eventually made the Danish government offer to deploy Danish troops to Lithuania. But in keeping with the general pattern, this happened to please the superpowers, and not as the result of a Lithuanian request. THE CONFLICT WITH POLAND AND THE VILNA COMMAND While the geopolitical situation gradually settled in Estonia and Latvia, it remained unresolved in Lithuania. As described previously, it was a priority for France to secure a strong Polish state, which could act as a counterweight to Germany – France’s arch‑rival on the continent.32 This position would potentially conflict with the interests of the Lithuanian national movement, as the Poles considered parts of Lithuania to be Polish territory. From a Polish viewpoint, the Lithuanians were trying, for instance, to usurp Vilnius, which had a Polish majority population. 58

Conversely, the national movement in Lithuania considered Poland an imperialist power, which, like Russia and Germany, had endangered Lithuanian independence and sovereignty. In the territorial strife between Poland and Lithuania, the status of Vilnius had been debated since the beginning of the war for independence, and the city had changed hands several times. The national Lithuanian powers had had their headquarters here until the Bolsheviks occupied the city in January 1919, whereupon the Bolsheviks were kicked out by the Poles, who liberated the city in April 1919. The national powers in Lithuania did not see it as a liberation, but rather as a takeover by another occupying power. Tensions between Lithuania and Poland began to rise during the summer of 1919, when the first scattered military skirmishes started to happen. The Entente powers had an interest in keeping the fight against the Bolsheviks at its maximum strength, so they tried to pressure the two conflicting, anti‑Bolshevist countries to get them to bury the hatchet. In June 1919, through the French military envoy in Kaunas, the Entente powers drew a temporary line of demarcation between the warring parties, leaving Vilnius on the Polish side of the line. The dispute continued, however, and Polish forces were gradually advancing deeper into Lithuania, which led to a new line of demarcation – the Foch line – being drawn in June 1919 on the initiative of the French, and which granted the newly conquered areas to Poland.33 But Lithuania was not inclined to give up Vilnius, and other great powers were soon involved in the matter. Following Lithuania’s war against Bolshevist Russia, in July 1920, a Bolshevik‑Lithuanian peace treaty was put in effect, in which Bolshevist Russia recognised Vilnius as the capital of Lithuania. This was obviously important to the Lithuanians, although Poland remained in control of Vilnius. Subsequently, Bolshevist Russia requested that the Red Army be granted free passage through Lithuania, with the intent to attack Poland. Lithuania accepted, and Vilnius was conquered by Red forces after a large‑scale attack which sent Bolshevik forces deep into Poland.34 To the Poles, Lithuania’s act of allowing Bolshevik troops to use Lithuanian territory as a corridor in an attack on Poland was an unholy Lithuanian‑Bolshevist alliance against Poland. The Lithuanians merely described it as a rejection of Polish imperialism, and probably would not have had the military muscle to resist the Red Army should they have wanted to. The fortunes of war CHAPTER 2

changed for the Bolsheviks, however, when they lost a decisive battle in Warsaw on 16‑19 August 1920, and subsequently had to begin a retreat, during which the Red Army left Vilnius to the Lithuanians, who proclaimed it the capital of Lithuania on 26 August 1920. Poland did win the war against Bolshevist Russia, and wanted Vilnius back, but in October 1920, the League of Nations pressured Poland into a temporary ceasefire with Lithuania, establishing a demarcation line that put the Vilnius‑region under Lithuanian control.35 Shortly after, the Poles orchestrated an attack on Vilnius, led by Polish general Lucjan Zeligowski, but the Polish government maintained that the attack was a personal act by the general, and not sanctioned by the Polish state. The Lithuanian government fled to Kaunas once again, and Zeligowski proclaimed a new state in the captured areas, called The Central Lithuanian State (Litwa Zrodkowa).36 In this manner, Polish dominance over Vilnius continued, only in a different form. Lithuanian troops had yielded to Zeligowski and the superior Polish force, but the two countries continued their military skirmishes, and were constantly on the verge of open war over Vilnius, which the League of Nations was in turn constantly trying to avert.37 The latter wanted to solve the Polish‑Lithuanian border conflict through a referendum in the contested areas, in the same way as it had been done in South Jutland. International military forces, deployed by the League of Nations, were to provide security in the plebiscite area, and like a number of other countries, Denmark was asked to contribute a small troop contingent to the peace‑preserving force. Thus, on 21 November 1920, Denmark received a request for 100 troops, and accepted the request immediately. The force was to consist of volunteer personnel, and Denmark was offered the prospect that the Danish troops would mainly be used for surveillance tasks, although confrontation in the heated conflict could not be ruled out entirely.38 The quick and straightforward Danish response to the request for troops was in stark contrast to the responses to previous requests from Lithuania, which had all been refused. Just as it had been the case in previous years, the Danish decision – and its Baltic policy in general, for that matter – was not based on idealist or moral concerns, but purely on realpolitik and Danish self‑interest.39 Denmark’s positive response was mainly an expression of support for the League of Nations, the establishment of which was seen to be a major improvement to the 60

national security of small states like Denmark. At the same time, the Danish government felt an obligation to Great Britain and France, which had made possible the re‑incorporation of South Jutland to the kingdom a few months before, in June 1920. Denmark also saw a future advantage in securing a good relationship with Europe’s strongest powers, while at the same time maintaining its neutrality policy, as the troop deployment happened within the framework of the League of Nations. An engagement in Lithuania was probably also seen as fairly risk‑free in relation to Bolshevist Russia and Germany.40 Both these countries had recognised Lithuania’s independence, so contrary to the troop requests from the Entente in 1918, this time the Danish troops did not risk the prospect of facing Russian or German army forces, or causing an upset to Russian or German interests.* In other words, a border dispute between two small countries was a safe place for Denmark to show goodwill towards the Entente powers – not least because the Danish contingent would be preserving peace, not creating it. In addition, Denmark did not want to be the only Scandinavian country to turn down the request, as Sweden and Norway had already signalled their positive stance. Besides, most of the cost of the operation would be covered by the League of Nations, so the expense for Denmark was moderate. Contrary to when the Brits and the Balts had posed their requests for regular Danish troops in 1918 and 1919, this time the benefits outweighed the disadvantages, and all the Danish political parties gave their approval for Danish participation. The Danish authorities began preparing the formation of the force, which was given the name the Vilna Command. But despite the considerable Danish goodwill, and preparations advancing, the corps never got to leave. The reason for this was not to be found in Denmark, but in Lithuania. According to the Lithuanian government, Bolshevist Russia had pointed out that the peace accord between the two countries did not allow foreign troops hostile to Russia in the areas in question. In addition, neither Poland nor Lithuania were likely interested in letting the referendum proceed until they felt certain of gaining a majority. This led to the stating of a number of opposing special demands, to be met before the referendum

Russia had recognised Lithuania on July 12, 1920. Eidintas og Zalys 1997, p. 69

CHAPTER 2

could commence. Practical concerns were also pointed out, such as the supply situation, rumours of a typhus epidemic in Vilnius, the reluctance of the Polish forces to withdraw from the referendum territories, and the fact that Lithuania and Poland could not agree on the extent of the referendum territories.41 The lack of commitment to reach an agreement about the framework of the referendum, and the similar lack of ability within the League of Nations to force a compromise, for example by opposing France’s one‑sided support for Poland, meant that the initiative gradually lost momentum. The unclear mandate also meant that the member countries of the League of Nations became increasingly unwilling to supply troops to a conflict zone that might develop in an unpredictable way. In early March 1921, the Danish war ministry declared that the Vilna Command had been disbanded, and that was the end of it, as far as Denmark was concerned. Denmark did not take a stand in the conflict, and at no point appeared to have any considerations other than those of the great powers with regard to its participation.42 For Poland and Lithuania, the question of Vilnius was not settled until after World War 2. DANISH RECOGNITION OF LITHUANIA’S INDEPENDENCE, 1921 Since 1918, political and diplomatic circles had been debating the prospects of a Danish recognition of Lithuania’s independence. At the Nordic ministerial meeting in Copenhagen on 28‑30 August 1920, the question of a de jure recognition of the Russian border states was raised at the highest political level between the Nordic prime and foreign ministers. In general, the mood in the Scandinavian countries regarding the question of de jure recognition of the Baltic countries was reserved for a number of reasons. The minutes from the meeting contain some Danish deliberations and viewpoints: “Foreign minister Scavenius announced that Denmark had taken up the position concerning the border states, that Denmark would recognize them only when the superpowers had done so, and in such case, preferably together with Norway and Sweden. At the moment it appears that neither France nor the United States will accept a de 62

The struggle for the Baltic countries’ freedom cost the lives of ten Danish volunteers and many were injured, several seriously. Four Danish soldiers were taken as prisoners by the Bolsheviks, but only one survived the captivity of the Russians. Private Laurids Dyrberg came home to Denmark in August 1920 after a little more than 12 months in Soviet captivity. Here is shown a letter from Red Cross to Dyrberg’s parents in Denmark after their son was localised in a refugee camp in the Soviet Union.

jure recognition. He does not himself believe in the existence of these states. When a real Russia is restored, her first move will be an attempt to regain these border states, as Russia cannot be without her ports on the Baltic Sea. Therefore, there is no reason to recognize them. If one were to do it, it would be severely frowned upon by every Russian. Besides, a few of these states had not done right by the Danes.”43 Apart from a decidedly pragmatic political approach to foreign policy, the sceptical attitude of the Danish foreign minister to any de jure recognitions should clearly be viewed in light of the comprehensive agricultural reforms in the Baltic countries, which were causing anger with politicians and other people of influence in Denmark. Large estates and tracts of land had been nationalised with virtually no reimbursements to the previous owners, which had negatively affected a number of CHAPTER 2

Danish possessions in Estonia and Latvia. The Danish foreign minister felt that these matters must be resolved before the question of a de jure recognition of the Baltic countries could be considered. However, the pointed Danish rhetoric had little real significance, as Denmark decided to follow the other Scandinavian countries in recognising Estonia and Latvia de jure only half a year later, in February 1921.44 Denmark recognised Lithuania de jure on 28 September 1921. It is worth noting that Denmark’s recognition of Lithuania happened before France’s and Great Britain’s. This was different from the recognition of Estonia and Latvia, which happened only after the superpowers had expressed their positive stance towards it.* This change from earlier practice could signify a sympathetic Danish attitude towards Lithuania, which was no doubt the case, but the decision and particularly the timing were probably more a reflection of the fact that Lithuania had been admitted in the League of Nations on September 22, 1921. Being admitted into the League of Nations meant that Lithuania was accepted as a nation by the European superpowers, and so Denmark’s decision to recognise Lithuania was hardly unilateral, and carried hardly any diplomatic risk. This was further confirmed by the fact the Danish representatives in London had informed Copenhagen as early as the summer of 1920 that the British government was fundamentally sympathetic to a de jure recognition of Lithuania, and that there were negotiations with France about it.45 The border dispute with Poland made France and Great Britain delay their de jure recognition to 20 December 1922, but that probably mattered little to Denmark, which did not deviate from the overall political line for the region. Besides, Denmark had economic interests in the east, which had previously been the target of significant Danish investments, and a free and friendly‑minded Lithuania would be in Denmark’s interest – not least as a means to access the Russian markets.46

Denmark recognised Estonia and Latvia de jure on February 5 and 7, 1921, after Great Britain and France had done it two weeks prior, on 26 January 1921. RA. UM. Grouped cases 1909‑45, pk. 146‑172. Various papers re. the recognition of Estonia; Page 1959, p. 181; Made 2008, p. 11; Anderson, Edgar: The British policy toward the Baltic States 1918‑1920. Journal of Central European Affairs. Vol. 19. 1959, p. 289; Rauch 1974, p. 81, 103

From a Nordic perspective, Denmark appeared to be leading the way in the de jure recognition of Lithuania. Or at least, that was the prevailing perception in the Danish foreign ministry, as these minutes from April 1921 indicate: “Since the question of the de jure recognition of Lithuania cannot, as noted above, be expected to be addressed from the Swedish or Norwegian sides, it seems that the initiative in this case rests with Denmark (…) As the position of Lithuania on the Baltic Sea predestines the country to interest the Nordic countries, particularly Denmark and Sweden, more than it might be expected to interest for example Italy, it seems that this is an area in which the Nordic countries should walk in front. And it should offer no misgivings, now that Switzerland has given its recognition.” The Danish foreign ministry believed that it was a matter of “disproportion” that Latvia and Estonia had been recognised de jure, while Lithuania had not.47 The fact that Denmark seemingly took the initiative in the North in favour of Lithuania might be because Lithuania had no unresolved issues with Denmark to do with the expropriations under the agricultural reforms.48 But most important still was what the superpowers’ stances towards the question would be. The reason that the Scandinavian countries had not de jure recognised Lithuania so far, was, according to a report from the Danish foreign ministry, because the Western powers had not yet taken this step. However, the same report also stated that Lithuania had been recognised de jure by Russia and Germany among others, de facto by Britain and France, and was now about to admitted into the League of Nations. In the report, which is dated 21 September 1921, the ministry concluded: “Based on these circumstances, it is the view of the Danish government that the time has come for the three Nordic countries to recognize Lithuania de jure.”49 One week later, Denmark formally recognised the independence of Lithuania. FROM PRAGMATISM TO IDEALISM – DENMARK’S LITHUANIA‑POLICY PAST AND PRESENT In August 1920, Savickis articulated hopes and frustrations alike in Lithuania’s relationship to Denmark: “We put our greatest trust in the Scandinavian countries, particularly Denmark, and as such it is a CHAPTER 2

sorrow to us that we have not yet been successful in prevailing upon the Danish government to send an official representative to Lithuania. But from some private Danish citizens, we sense a considerable interest in our circumstances.”50 This was a very precise description of Danish‑Lithuanian relations. Officially, Denmark led a quite hesitant policy towards Lithuania in the years 1918‑21, for security and foreign policy reasons. The Danish policy was in line with that of the Entente powers, and was focused mainly on the existing Danish policy of neutrality, as well as the national interests concerning South Jutland, which could benefit from Denmark being on good terms with France and Great Britain. The Danish decision to form the Vilna Command must be seen in this context, and was not the result of a request or wish from the Lithuanians, but rather from the superpowers. Whenever Lithuania approached Denmark directly with requests for Danish troop contributions, it was quickly snubbed. Denmark’s Baltic policy began under the Social‑Liberal Zahle‑administration, but did not change under the following liberal government during the period leading up to the de jure recognition in 1921. As Savickis stated, a policy that actively supported Lithuania – and the Baltic region in general, for that matter – was by and large left to private Danish operators, while the official Denmark assumed a friendly but hesitant attitude. In the time around the Baltic independence wars, Denmark established what Norwegian historian Tom Kristiansen has termed a “minimal policy” towards the Baltic: Denmark would never do more than what was required, and never before it was required – and relations were defined by the relationship to the superpowers.51 Foreign policy towards the Baltic was defined by practical matters, not by solidarity or moral and idealist concerns. Not that Lithuania could not use all the help it could get in the years 1918‑21. When its military and political struggle for national independence began, there was no established Lithuanian territory, no common language, no national institutions, few financial resources, no army and no social structure to lean on. At the same time, Lithuania was under threat from three major regional powers, Russia, Germany and Poland, which all sought to dominate the new state. In addition, none of the Entente powers supported Lithuanian independence whole‑heartedly – least of all France. Although the Scandinavians did sympathise with Lithuania, there was not much 66

help to be had from the Nordic countries either. Therefore, it was an almost herculean achievement that the Lithuanians were able, against all odds, to navigate this minefield, and that they managed, alone, through their own fighting power, determination and skill, to win their independence. Today, there is a far greater and sincere Danish support for the security situation of the Baltic countries than what was the case in 1918‑1921. The most significant difference is that the current Danish effort in the Baltic is state‑sanctioned, and not left to private initiatives. The three Baltic countries are now considered members of like‑minded democratic‑liberal states – not least because of their memberships in the EU and NATO. Denmark is no longer a mere spectator to the policy in Lithuania and the other Baltic countries. Under the NATO umbrella, Denmark leads an active and supportive Baltic policy, which is in stark contrast to the strict “minimal policy” of 1918‑1921. Today, Danish military and the Danish government make a big effort to prove to friends and foes alike that Baltic security is a priority. In the 100th year of Danish‑Lithuanian relations, it might be worth mentioning that even the best friendships are often fragile and hesitant to begin with, but grow stronger and better over the years. That image describes Danish‑Lithuanian relations well, and the military and political bonds between Denmark and Lithuania are stronger now than ever.

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

ERIK BIERING, THE 1ST DANISH HONORARY CONSUL IN KAUNAS By Kirsten Biering, retd. Ambassador, Associated Senior Advisor, Danish Institute for International Studies Erik Biering was the first Danish representative – Honorary Consul – that came to Lithuania in 1921. Kirsten Biering takes us through his life and work in Kaunas, Lithuania. As his relative, she has had special access to his personal archive. Why did the former businessman become a diplomat in the newly independent Lithuania, and what did he hope for?

I had not known that much about Uncle Erik, as my family called him, apart from the fact that he had left behind a collection of family portraits. As well as delicate, pale faces from the 18th century, it included two enormous paintings in heavy frames from the 1940s, one of himself and one of his wife Sigrid. They were impressive, but somewhat cumbersome for the average abode. I suspect that it was with a sigh of relief that my father-in-law handed these two over as I left for my first ambassadorial post. They would add a fitting air of grandeur to bare walls in embassy rooms over the years. Erik Andreas Mathias Biering was the full name of my faithful companion on that journey, a stern and serious man looking down on me in full diplomatic uniform, weighed down by a massive array of medals. Despite the formal air of his later portrait, Uncle Erik was, it turned out, more of a dynamic entrepreneur than a traditional diplomat. He had already shown his drive and mettle by the time that he was named the first official Danish representative to Lithuania in 1921. He was born in 1876, the youngest of 17 children. His father, Frederik Ferdinand Biering, was the minister at Svindinge Church CHAPTER 3

Portrait of Erik Biering

in Funen, then part of the Glorup Estate. The family had close ties with Glorup and its owners, and Count Adam Moltke-Huitfeldt and Frederik Biering formed a lifelong friendship. As a young man, Frederik accompanied the Count on diplomatic missions abroad, and the Moltke-Huitfeldt family supported some of his many offspring to study for the bar and the church, including my husband’s grandfather. Those of his children unable to pursue a formal education did not let that hold them back, and sought adventure in the West and in the East; among them were Erik and his older half-brother, Adam Gottlob Biering. In the 1880s, Adam took a job as a mechanical engineer in Baku for an oil company owned by the Swedish Nobel family. He went on to establish a successful oil business of his own, and invited Erik to come and work with him. Erik was in two minds. His father had passed away when he was quite young, and he had been raised by his mother Hansine, who grew up at the quintessential Funen farm Brudagergård near Svendborg. Biering wanted to follow in the footsteps of his mother’s family and the much-admired farming uncles, but times were hard for the agricultural 70

sector. He chose commerce instead, and had been working in Hamburg for a couple of years when Adam called. Erik decided to take a chance. With the help of a bursary from the Danish Wholesalers’ Association, he arrived in Baku in 1901. LIFE IN BAKU In his memoirs, Erik Biering would later describe the years that followed as the best in his life: “Opportunities abounded, and only a lack of imagination could possibly hold you back. All you needed was the energy to grasp them. Russia was a wonderful country and far freer than one might imagine.” Eventually, he borrowed 20,000 rubles from his brother and founded his own company, E.F. Biering & Co., supplying equipment to the oil industry on an agency and commission basis. The puzzling ‘F’ stood for Fjodorovitj (son of Frederik). The young man poured his energies into learning everything he did not yet know, including Russian. His teacher was a local doctor’s wife, who prepared for their lessons by setting a small table with tea, cognac and liqueurs. They usually rounded off the class with a rendition of the Danish national anthem, “King Christian”. Not that the doctor’s wife understood a word of it, but she had learned the song by heart at her school in Vladikavkaz prior to a visit by Empress Marija Fjodorovna, born Princess Dagmar of Denmark. It did their duets no harm that Erik Biering stuck to tea, while the doctor’s wife preferred the other beverages on display. His health deteriorating, Adam allowed Erik to buy him out while he himself returned to Copenhagen. With no heir, Adam Biering chose to spend his considerable wealth on new ventures. A good friend of Knud Rasmussen, he helped finance the first Thule Expedition, with Rasmussen returning the favour by naming the north-easterly corner of Greenland Adam Biering Land. Until this point, Erik Biering had lived in the shadow of his brother’s success in Baku and was insecure about his own abilities and skills. As he gradually plugged the gaps, his ambition began to burn brighter. It helped that he had a stubborn and persistent streak – from his farming forebears, he thought. In his more lucid moments, he was equally aware CHAPTER 3

that he was not always easy to get on with, and remembered that “An angry Tatar once said of me: ‘He berates people really well!’” At the age of 30, Erik Biering was well-established in business and had married Sigrid Sjøwall, the daughter of a Swedish engineer who worked for the Nobel Brothers. He had also recently been appointed Danish Honorary Vice-Consul in Baku, and would go on to become Consul for the Caucasus. The Biering company grew to become the third largest in the drilling industry in Baku by the time of the Russian revolution. In partnership with the Copenhagen Freeholders’ Bank and the Great Northern Telephone Company, Erik Biering was also granted the lucrative concession to set up a telephone system in and around Baku. It is a testament to his persistence that during the lobbying process, he was given an audience with the Dowager Empress Marija Fjodorovna at Amalienborg in Copenhagen – which he recalled with great enthusiasm for the rest of his life – and managed to engage influential forces in his favor. He remembered his meeting on the same issue with the Russian Minister of the Interior Pjotr Stolypin as no less successful, but considerably more sombre: a tall and lonely figure in an oversized office at the Hermitage Palace. If political turmoil made some business activities less lucrative, Erik Biering would throw himself into new ventures, often with Emmanuel Nobel as his partner. Silk, cotton, even a caviar company. The last time he would come across the results of that venture was when two tins of the delicacy were served at a reception with the Soviet Ambassador in Kaunas, Lithuania, in 1922. Towards the end of 1920, having already sent his family home to Denmark for two years, Erik Biering had to face up to the fact that his time in Baku was coming to an end. During a visit to the Nobel family in Stockholm a few months earlier, he had met with the People’s Commissar for Foreign Trade of the Soviet Union, Leonid Krasin, who suggested a role for him in developing cotton production in the South. He considered the offer briefly, as a possible way to protect his own business interests in the area, but decided against it. Like the rest of the consular corps, Biering spent much of his final years in the Caucasus dealing with one political hornet’s nest after the other. He was involved in constant negotiations: with the Bolsheviks, who had wanted to nationalise his property back in spring 1918, but 72

gave up after a day locked in intense discussion with the furious Dane; on behalf of the same Soviets and the Armenians with Turkish forces threatening to occupy Baku that autumn; and, on somewhat friendlier terms, with the British, who would go on to take control of the city. Finally, in March 1921, when all hope of continuing life and business in Baku had faded, Biering boarded the last ship out of Batumi. Erik Biering described his time in Baku in his memoirs My Twenty Years in the Caucasus. As he was never one to hide his light under a bushel, the story has to be taken with the occasional pinch of salt. But he was still one of a talented, resourceful and intrepid entrepreneurs who lived a full and rich life among the mixed bag of humanity that made up the Baku oil rush. He returned to Copenhagen with a wealth of experience, a solid reputation and an impressive network – but little else. He filed a compensation claim with the commission processing Danish claims against Russia for over DKK 1.5 million (around DKK 40 million/€5.5 million today). He had also lost the valuable telephone concession, its infrastructure and exchanges, in itself worth a fortune. Although Biering never relinquished the claim, he failed to recover any of his property or money. NEW PASTURES The time had come for Erik Biering to change track. Named Honorary Consul to Azerbaijan, Armenia and Georgia in 1920, he had sufficient reason to contact a close friend, the diplomat Harald Scavenius, who was then Minister for Foreign Affairs in Niels Neergaard’s second Liberal-led government. Scavenius had been posted to St. Petersburg and knew Biering well. As luck would have it, the Commission on Foreign Affairs set up in 1919 in the wake of the First World War published its findings in early 1921. It recommended focusing diplomatic efforts on promoting Danish business interests and cultivating new markets. The Commission hoped Russia would continue to be an important trading partner, which carried over into an interest in former Russian peripheral areas, such as Lithuania. Another recommendation was to recruit new diplomats from wider social CHAPTER 3

circles. Their qualities were to include “the ability to observe, strength of character, initiative, endurance, adaptability and similar attributes rooted in a real personality” – not unlike the man from Baku. Scavenius offered Biering one of the ten new (regular) consular positions, having in mind an overseas posting. Biering chose Lithuania, close to Russia, where he had so much at stake personally. Many of the key players in Kaunas, Lithuania’s provisional capital, already knew Erik Biering. He had last met the new Minister for Transport at the Russian Ministry of the Interior when negotiating for Baku’s telephone concession. The new Minister for Justice he had known as a public prosecutor in Baku. The Lithuanian politician and doctor Kazys Grinius, whom he had met in Kislovodsk in 1917, was now Prime Minister of the newly independent republic. Although Biering saw Grinius, who would also serve as President, as a good and honourable man, a liberal idealist, it came as little surprise when he was ousted by a coup in the early, turbulent years of the new state. As tanks rolled through the streets on that December night in 1926, Biering sat on the embassy floor with an old friend from his Caucasus days, engineer Knud Højgaard, playing with a little black cat. Erik Biering was a modern diplomat avant la lettre. He took the same broad view of his role in promoting Danish interests as the Commission had in 1921, even in the face of opposition from hidebound civil servants back in Copenhagen, who remained sceptical of such diplomatic activism. Biering was also unwavering in his championing of the talented individuals whom he met along the way, whatever their background. One of them, Jens Peter Mirner became his right-hand man in Kaunas despite official resistance. On one occasion in the 1930s, the head of the Ministry for Foreign Affairs, H.A. Bernhoft, had had enough and reprimanded Biering, reminding him that “not everyone can become an officer”. HARD AT WORK IN LITHUANIA The dispatches that Erik Biering sent from his desk in Kaunas were as numerous as they were long. But they were also substantial and refreshingly direct (this changed somewhat when a career diplomat 74

took over the post in 1930). The texts may have been short on lyrical descriptions of Lithuania, but in the papers that he left after his death, he expressed great warmth towards the country and considerable sorrow over the fate that later befell it. He described his stay there as “a happy time with excellent opportunities”. This was a man who was always on the lookout for opportunities. In his new role, the focus was on agriculture and infrastructure. One of the most ambitious projects was to persuade Danes to take over farms in Lithuania, both to increase food production for export and improve transit options to Russia. In autumn 1922, the process of identifying Danes to head five large holdings in the south of the country, which had been abandoned after the First World War, began. Three out of the first four applicants were forced to give up within a year. According to Erik Biering, they were too young and inexperienced, although they, like so many others, may also have been excessively focused on the opportunities for trade with Russia. Only H.C. Dons (who had links to the Hesselager Estate in Funen, and thus to Hansine Biering’s farming mafia) made a success of a state-leased farm, Aniskio-Dvaras, which he ran until 1940. Biering took Dons’ success as proof that the idea was sound. Indeed, the project never completely ground to a halt, and new tenant farmers continued to take up leases. However, conditions were difficult, and international hopes of a stable economic relationship with the Soviet Union and a bigger market for Danish agricultural produce were gradually diminishing. Shortly before Christmas 1929, not long before he left Lithuania, Biering gave a speech to representatives from the Danish agricultural sector. He remarked, with a tinge of regret, that everybody had “struggled on in recent years with varying degrees of success but with unstinting energy and courage”. The first difficult steps had been taken, he said, although not enough progress had been made. Few, however, would lay the blame at his door. The President of the Danish Agricultural Council, Hans Pindstrup, noted that Biering possessed “the right kind of initiative and great practical skills”. The de jure recognition of the Soviet Union in 1924 changed the general outlook. As a consequence, Denmark’s diplomatic presence in the Baltic states was consolidated. Erik Biering was promoted first to CHAPTER 3

Consul General and then, in 1925, to chargé d’affaires at the legation, which fell under the auspices of the diplomatic mission in Helsinki. The focus of activities shifted more squarely towards Lithuania herself. In the late 1920s, a number of infrastructure projects involving Danish engineers, among them Biering’s close friend Knud Højgaard, were promoted. In that context, Erik Biering’s experience of navigating the field of tension between politics and business would often prove to be an asset. The Lithuanian Prime Minister, Augustinas Voldemaras, had by the summer of 1927 become a difficult and at times unpredictable partner in negotiations with Højgaard about bridges over the Vilnia and Neman rivers. The negotiations had dragged on for years. In an exchange of letters with an agitated Højgaard, Erik Biering stressed that he was used to rolling up his sleeves and getting involved in business issues. He had done so in this case, too, but he turned down the request to talk to Voldemaras yet again at this juncture. He doubted whether the Ministry of Foreign Affairs’ new business strategy was deeply enough rooted yet for Copenhagen to support a more offensive strategy: “We may well get there in the years to come. One must have patience”. Biering was also uncertain whether such a strategy would have the desired effect on the Lithuanian government. If not, the whole thing could backfire spectacularly, strengthening the hand of the civil servants who opposed the proactive policy. He counselled patience. Just over a month later, and to great delight all around, the contract was signed, and Biering received a letter of gratitude from the Danish Prime Minister, Thomas Madsen-Mygdal. Many years later, Højgaard would write to Biering describing his time in Lithuania as “the best in my life”. Although Biering’s commitment to business was his strong side, he also paid close attention to Lithuanian politics during the unpredictable period from 1921 until 1930. Having been part of Russia for 130 years, Lithuania, as a new sovereign nation-state, had to build institutions from scratch. At the same time, the country was involved in its bitter conflict with Poland over Vilnius, which Polish troops had annexed in 1920, and in disagreements with Germany over what in 1923 became the autonomous region of Memelland (Klaipėda) within Lithuania. 76

Erik Biering did not always have a great deal of patience with the Lithuanian politicians weighed down by such a mammoth nation-building project. At times, he thought their Russian education shone through, which to his mind benefited no one. However, what he took most issue with was when freedoms were encroached upon or “ruthless policies implemented against anyone with a different opinion”. He made his point in balanced tones, reflecting concern about policies that might lead to “animosity and violence” and make it difficult to build the economic foundations of a new nation. This prism of utilitarianism was a constant with him. Before the military coup in December 1926, Biering had been positive about the Liberal-led coalition government, despite having little confidence it would survive. Afterwards, he noted that time was not yet ripe for some of the labour market reforms attempted by the coalition’s Social Democratic ministers. His analysis was again practical and business-oriented. (He may also have tailored his reporting to take into account the recent transfer of power in Denmark from the Social Democrats to the Liberals. Stranger things have happened in the diplomatic world.) Erik Biering thought that the new coalition of three right-wing parties under Voldemaras installed after the coup might bring stability and benefit both the Lithuanian economy and Danish business. By late 1927, he had thoroughly changed his mind about both government and the new man in charge. Up to 1929, he had regular access to Voldemaras, and retained a reluctant respect for the tough, intelligent politician, finding Voldemaras head and shoulders above his rivals in terms of competence. Biering’s views on his methods were a different matter, and in his dispatches, he did not mince words. When it came to the big international issues of the day, such as the fate of Vilnius and Lithuania’s relationship with autonomous Memelland (Klaipėda), Biering had equally little time for the single-minded passion with which the new nation sought to forge its identity and protect its interests in the shadow of ambitious larger neighbours. In this, he was not alone. His were views widely shared in Europe’s capitals. There is, however, no doubting where Erik Biering’s sympathies lay. On the Vilnius question, he emphasised again and again that Lithuania had right on her side and that the Polish power grab in CHAPTER 3

1920 had been an egregious breach of both good faith and the law. Poland possessed the territory solely “by virtue of the strength of the powerful over a weaker and disadvantaged Lithuania”. Where the major powers in Europe viewed the matter based on their overall and at times differing strategic interests, Erik Biering saw the issues in a slightly different light. He believed that the territory should be in Lithuanian hands, although not until later, “when Lithuanian national sentiment is sufficiently firmly entrenched to stand up to pressure and its economy strong enough for all endeavours not to be directed towards helping the country survive beyond tomorrow”. Lithuania’s hard line in negotiations was a dangerous political game in which it risked paying a high price. The focus on territory also meant that the government was neglecting what should have been its most important priority: “The first and most necessary step, the consolidation of Lithuania as it stands”. When Lithuanian irregulars occupied Memel in 1923, it was a physical expression of a legitimate and internationally recognised territorial claim. This was also, to Erik Biering, uncontested. But again, pragmatism and a willingness to compromise was, in his opinion, the better way to support business in Memel, the development of its strategic port and, through that, the Lithuanian economy as a whole. The attempts to dominate the mostly German population in Memel and the tug-of-war with Poland over transit were anything but pragmatic. This did not mean that Biering had much sympathy for the Polish position or for the German citizens of Memel; he found their negotiating styles arrogant, aggressive and counterproductive. Throughout these trials and tribulations, Biering was aware of the difficult balancing act Lithuania faced, stuck as it was between Poland and Russia. He was impressed by the ability of successive governments to resist Russian overtures, including the Lithuanian insistence on an economic strategy focused firmly on the West. He merely lamented the fact that the new republic’s constant craving for unflinching support on the Vilnius question made it difficult to build a united Baltic front against both Poland and Russia, ‘“who may well profess heartfelt support for the right to self-determination but lurk in the shadows, ever willing to pounce at the slightest opportunity”.

THE BUSINESSMAN’S LAST HURRAH In his private correspondence, Erik Biering made no secret of the fact that he had accepted the post in Lithuania also “to be close to Russia”. However, as he wrote to his brother Hans in 1925, “the prospects for (my) Russian business interests become murkier by the day”. It heightened his demands and expectations of diplomatic work. His personal papers show how fond Erik Biering, and his family grew of Lithuania and Lithuanians and, in spite of being business-oriented, how fascinated he was with the different political processes of the time. On the other hand, he was disappointed that promoting business was still “in its infancy in the Ministry for Foreign Affairs despite all the fancy words”. Conditions for trade and investment were not always easy in the early years of the new state, but in Biering’s view, Copenhagen was often too hesitant. As he later wrote, “Lithuania was a good country for Denmark”. In 1929, at a time when he occasionally admitted missing the world of business, Biering received a letter from A.P. Møller, an old school friend from Svendborg and founder of the shipping company A.P. Møller-Mærsk. An opportunity to drill for oil in Turkey had presented itself. As Møller wrote to Erik Biering, “You are the only man I know who has any real experience of the oil business”. During the ensuing negotiations, the pair disagreed about who to draft in as advisors on the project. Both insisted on working with people whose intelligence and loyalty they knew from first-hand experience, a model on which they had built their careers. Møller wrote that he “did not know” Jacobsen, Biering’s engineer from Baku, who was living in Paris at the time and working as a consultant to major oil companies. His preference was for a man he trusted from the Danish defence supplier (Dansk Rekyl Riffel Syndikat) in which he later heavily invested. In the end, the idea of working together came to nothing, but as Biering acknowledged in a letter to Møller, ultimately it was what had happened in Russia that had scared him off. He had had his fingers burned, and now, aged over 50, he was not prepared to leave the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and risk everything on a new oil adventure.

CHAPTER 3

The two men, similar in temperament and pattern of behaviour, remained lifelong friends. On Biering’s 70th birthday, Møller wrote – in appreciation of how much they viewed the world through the same lens – “I still cannot get it out of my head that you should have run the Ministry for Foreign Affairs. It could all have been so different.” The talks in 1929 were to be Erik Biering’s last engagement with the world of business and the oil industry, where he had made his name. FROM THE BALKANS TO BERLIN While Erik Biering was not completely satisfied with the outcomes of his projects in Lithuania, the Danish business organisations certainly seem to have been. There was constant pressure on him to deploy his expertise to exploit opportunities elsewhere. Despite growing problems in the international economy in the late 1920s, Danish business persuaded the Ministry for Foreign Affairs to investigate market potential in regions where there had been no previous diplomatic representation. In 1930, this led to two new posts: ambassador to the Balkan countries (Yugoslavia, Romania, Bulgaria) and ambassador to Mexico, Central America and the northern parts of South America. Biering was the first choice for the Balkan post and, in his own words, enjoyed the full backing of the Danish business organisations once again. The model, strikingly modern in all its agility, would have the ambassadors moving between residences in the cities of their region that offered the best opportunities for networking and exerting influence. It took Biering first to Belgrade, next to Bucharest and then, after Germany invaded Yugoslavia in 1941, he settled full-time in Romania. The new position had clear benefits for Biering. It provided the work opportunities he continued to crave. He was also promoted to full ambassador and minister, and received a decent salary at a time when Danish diplomats were still expected to be independently wealthy (which, much to his regret, he no longer was). Such things mattered. Erik Biering was ambassador to the Balkans throughout the war and until he reached retirement age in 1946. Six months after he had left the service, the Foreign Minister, Gustav Rasmussen, asked him to take over from Major General K.D Friis as the first civilian head 80

of the Danish military mission in Berlin. Biering seemed ideal for the job: he was a seasoned negotiator with unrivalled experience in EastWest relations and, since his lessons with the anthem-singing doctor’s wife, proficient in Russian. Due to his age and health, he insisted the position be fixed term, but then took to the role like a duck to water. He may have shrugged off the new title and rank of Major General with characteristic irony, but judging from the pictures of him in full military regalia, it seems to have suited him down to the ground. When Biering stepped down from the post in 1949, Rasmussen approached him once again with one last assignment – helping to deal with the hundreds of thousands of refugees from eastern Germany who had ended up in South Schleswig, just south of the Danish-German border. Not for the first time, the fate of the border region had become a sensitive political issue. The Danish minority south of the border saw the massive influx of German refugees as a threat to the Danish identity of the area. Public pressure mounted. Something had to be done “to ease the heavy burden of the refugees south of the border,” as Prime Minister Hans Hedtoft put it at the opening of Parliament in 1949. The conflict potential of language and culture in a disputed border area would have been a challenge that was not unfamiliar to Erik Biering after his time in Lithuania. Once again, Biering negotiated: with the regional government in Kiel to resettle 20,000 of the refugees in other parts of Germany; with the Danish Prime Minister on costs; with the Danish Railway Company on transport; and with the commanders of the English, French, American and Russian zones, each of which would be called on to take some of the refugees. In spite of initial success, the many practical problems faced in post-war Germany – infrastructure, housing, work – and a dose of internal political strife over the issue turned the resettlement of refugees into a complicated affair. When Copenhagen withdrew from the process a few years later, Erik Biering had already retired from the foreign service – this time for good, content and looking back “on a long, and despite all the setbacks and upheavals, happy working life”. The two imposing paintings? At Biering’s request, they have been passed down through the generations, and are currently too big for the flat in Brussels where they now hang. Like the others before him, the CHAPTER 3

current owner may find the artistic idiom somewhat overpowering, but not the legacy. When Erik Biering was awarded the Grand Cross of the Order of the Dannebrog in 1949, he chose a coat of arms featuring the Staff of Hermes to represent trade, and a plough to represent farming, both of which remained close to his heart throughout his life. His motto is emblazoned around the edge of the shield: “It is always worthwhile” (“Det Kan Altid Nytte”). It was, and it is.

CHAPTER 4

“BALTICUMPROJECT” – DANISH PROJECT FOR LITHUANIA, 1921-1940 By Vaidotas Mažeika, Deputy Director of the State Security Department of the Republic of Lithuania Based on his PhD, Vaidotas Mažeika gives an updated version of his 2002 book on the Danish-Lithuanian relations and the Danish motives for engaging in the bilateral cooperation – strategic, political, or economic? How did Danish companies contribute to the development of the young Lithuanian state, and how did it evolve throughout the years leading up to the Second World War?

The authorship of the term “Balticumproject” belongs to Erik Andreas Mathias Biering, who was the first diplomatic representative of the Kingdom of Denmark in Lithuania (1921‑1930 see separate chapter ”title”). In 1930, the Danish diplomat referred to all the biggest and most significant Danish projects for Lithuania implemented during the first decade of Danish‑Lithuanian diplomatic relations as the “Balticumproject”. This chapter aims at disclosing what development scenario Lithuania, as a new, small nation‑state, was offered, and how the “Balticumproject” contributed to the country’s survival and modernisation at the beginning of the 20th century. ESTABLISHING CONTACTS The acquaintance of the Danish public with Lithuania and Lithuanians began at the end of the 19th century. In 1895, the book titled The Awakening of a Nation: Images of Lithuanian Culture was published in Copenhagen by Åge Meyer Benedictsen, a Danish humanist, educator CHAPTER 4

and ethnologist.1 The author claimed that the state of Lithuania in that historical period existed only as an ethnic entity divided between Russia and Germany, suffering from political, cultural and economic oppression. According to Å. Benedictsen, such all‑encompassing oppression was the main reason why every European would consider Lithuanians of the 19th century to be poorly educated, reluctant‑to‑innovate ‘“aborigines” of the Old Continent. At the beginning of World War I. when Denmark’s most important rival, Germany, withdrew from the Russian market, and after its defeat in the war, when its influence in the region decreased and that of England increased, Denmark had favourable conditions to take advantage of its convenient geographical position at the approaches to the Baltic Sea and to undertake the role of mediator between the West and East. Therefore, for almost a decade after the war, the Russian question was one of the central issues in Danish foreign policy.2 At the beginning of 1918, major Danish dailies started to report on the collapse of Russia, with the new states on the western fringe of the former empire receiving the greatest attention. Denmark found it important to determine whether the new states would be able to become “independent economic entities” worthy of independence as well as capable of connecting the two worlds and performing the key role in Russia’s foreign trade.3 Copenhagen seems to have imposed demanding requirements on the new states, and to a large extent, the Danish relationship with Lithuania depended on the compliance with them. There were discussions on the perspectives of the new Baltic States and the support they needed both in Danish media publications and at the conferences of Scandinavian Ministers of Foreign Affairs. The main focus at the latter was on the issue of what role the Baltic States could play in the target relations between the Triple Entente of the Scandinavian countries with the future Russia and whether the new states, Lithuania in particular, would be able to resolve national and territorial disputes. On the other hand, Lithuania also had its own interests in Denmark. The elite of the newly formed state had declared, more than once and unambiguously, their interest in adopting the social, political and economic experience of the small country with old traditions. At the beginning of 1919, during his visit to Copenhagen, the Lithuanian 84

leader Antanas Smetona said: “We admire free democratic life of the North. We ask for permission to learn from the Danish economy, the Danish school system, and Danish culture. Denmark is well known to Lithuanian farmers, who are full of admiration for the most progressive country in European economy.”4 The Danish model of economic development was particularly attractive to the Baltic nations: it related economic growth to political stability, and had proved that small countries could successfully develop their own industry and agriculture despite their dependence on the international market.5 The implementation of the Danish model was expected to serve in the Baltic States the same as it had in Denmark a century before. Therefore, the cooperative dairy chimney was to become a symbol of the new era – an era in which agriculture was a profitable business, not just a source to survive.6 Such a development perspective fully satisfied Lithuania’s aspiration to keep the balance between industrialisation and the need to remain an agrarian state, which was determined by the political conjuncture. The historical experience of the Baltic States preconditioned the establishment of nation‑states on the basis of the peasantry, which had preserved its ethnic identity, whereas the civilisation level of the 20th century imposed a demand that the peasant became a farmer. Therefore, the Danish model was the most suitable. It seems that was how Lithuania’s modernisation was perceived in Denmark, and thus the aspirations of Lithuanians coincided with the interests of Danes in Lithuania and further to the East, at least until the middle of the 1920s. Active implementation of Danish plans in Lithuania started in 1921. That was not random timing: The trade agreement between Great Britain and Soviet Russia (16 March 1921) should be considered an event of European significance, which crowned the new Russian policy initiated by D. Lloyd George and essentially meant the recognition of the Bolshevik regime de jure. In 1921, the Bolsheviks renounced military communism and switched to a new economic policy, or NEP, which created hopes that Russia was going back to normal economic relations.7 Another important factor was the reform of Danish Foreign Service in 19218, the main provision of which stated that after the end of the World War, the major task of the Danish diplomatic service would be to represent the country’s economic interests, as the resolution of CHAPTER 4

conflicts and other political issues of the international importance were supposed to become the prerogative of the League of Nations. During the parliamentary debate on the Foreign Service Act, it was repeatedly emphasised that the Danish “business had a promising future in Russia and its neighbouring countries”, whereas “the Danish agriculture had the greatest expectations for the Baltic States”.9 Lithuania became a member of the League of Nations on 22 September 1921. Thus, despite the conflict between Lithuania and Poland, stability in the region became an issue possible to manage. On 28 September 192110, the Danish “Royal Government decided to recognize Lithuania as an independent state.”11 INTRODUCING DANISH AGRICULTURAL METHODS Under the Danish Foreign Service Act, a paid consular post was established in Lithuania, and on 1 June 1921, the King of Denmark appointed Erik Biering as his Consul in Lithuania. E. Biering arrived in Lithuania on 18 June, where he was met by the Minister of Foreign Affairs J. Purickis on 20 June. On the same day, the Danish Consulate was opened in Kaunas. In the middle of July, the Consulate moved from the Versal hotel to a flat rented from Tilmans & Co. on Vytautas Avenue.12 The state consultant N. Otto Nielsen, who had been appointed and maintained by the Danish Ministry of Agriculture, started to monitor the development of agriculture in Lithuania and all the Baltic States in the middle of 1919. Later, his position was taken by one of the most prominent personalities in the history of the export of the Danish agricultural methodology, C. A. Koefoed, who was also a co‑author of P. Stolypin’s land reform. In their reports, both consultants affirmed that it was necessary to reclaim and expand the market that had been mainly managed by Danish exporters before World War I. since the Danes used to sell their breeding animals, seeds and agricultural machinery in the Baltic States.13 In 1921, A. Nielsen, one of the most influential Danish agricultural functionaries, proposed to H. R. Scavenius, the Minister of Foreign Affairs, that the possibilities of Danish exporters be expanded by establishing several Danish agricultural centres in the Baltic States. He also proposed ascertaining opportunities to implement such an idea.14 86

The consultants and the consuls in the Baltic States sent information to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Denmark till the beginning of 1922. Finally, Lithuania turned out to have the most favourable conditions for the establishment of Danish agricultural centres. This was facilitated not only by the vigorous work of Consul E. Biering but also by the objective conditions of the land reform carried out there. The reform aimed at creating conditions favourable for the implementation of the most advanced agricultural methods and improvement of the breeds of domestic animals as well as grain and fodder crops grown in Lithuania, and thereby to raise the agricultural culture. To achieve this aim, the law of the Land Reform provided the granting of land for agricultural needs, namely for “seed and breeding farms.”15 According to the Land Reform implementation plan, undistributed “entities of higher culture” could be used to promote advanced farming methods. Danish agricultural production could also strengthen its positions through cultural entities in the Lithuanian agricultural sector due to the fact that it was decided to improve local cattle herds with ‘“cattle of Danish breed”. Thus, in 1922, favourable conditions for the establishment of Danish agricultural centres were created. In Denmark, meanwhile, expansion opportunities to the Baltic markets were further examined. In March, 1922, C. A. Koefoed and C. Jacobsen made presentations to the Danish Board of Agriculture (hereinafter – Landbrugsrådet) and both consultants encouraged the beginning of cooperation with Lithuania. According to C. A. Koefoed, relations between nations were more economically beneficial for the country with a higher culture and culturally beneficial for the less developed one; therefore, the Danish were to enjoy financial benefits of rapprochement with the Baltic States.16 At the beginning of June, Landbrugsrådet delegated A. Nielsen, a member of its presidium, and N. Bredkjær, director of the Tule Agricultural School, to Lithuania to get acquainted with the Lithuanian agricultural situation and find out about the export opportunities of the Danish agricultural model. Danish experts, accompanied by E. Biering and C. A. Koefoed, inspected manors offered for rent all over Lithuania. They met the Count Vladimir Zubov, who was a pioneer of model farming, and had detailed discussions with the officials of the Lithuanian Ministry of Agriculture on the establishment of cultural CHAPTER 4

entities. Having evaluated local economic conditions and clarified the opinion of the country’s leading agricultural officials, A. Nielsen and N. Bredkjær suggested at Landbrugsrådet that it would be optimal if young specialists in agriculture possessing capital in the amount of 20 thousand DKK started working on expanding the market for Danish goods in Lithuania. According to the experts, the other necessary amount of about 30‑40 thousand DKK in the form of credits for breeding animals, seed cereals and agricultural machinery was to be provided by Danish agricultural organizations with an interest in the market in the east. Consolidation of powers of both private and cooperative institutions was also encouraged by the idea that this would maximise the tenants’ contribution and represent Danish agriculture the best.17 Thus, it did not only concern private initiative; it was an activity acquiring features of public policy. Such expert conclusions were approved at Landbrugsrådet, and at the beginning of August 1922, five graduates of the Danish Academy of Agriculture arrived in Lithuania. The young agronomists were settled in various parts of Lithuania. They had to get acquainted with the situation and decide whether they were going to lease manors for the establishment of cultural entities. They gathered at the Danish Consulate in Kaunas in the middle of September to share their impressions and discuss lease opportunities. All the speakers claimed that the conditions for the intentions were favourable – the soil and natural conditions in many of the areas visited were even better than in Denmark. Farming methods and tools in Lithuania reminded the visitors of the situation in their homeland a century ago, whereas work organization, livestock and cereal breeds, soil fertilisation, drainage, and road conditions required major or even cardinal changes. There were great opportunities for Danes to do business and a huge market for the sale of agricultural means in Lithuania, without a fear that local goods would become competitors to the Danish ones in the global agricultural market in 20 or 30 years.18 All five Danes were ready to establish cultural entities in leased manors. Now, the final decision was to be made by the Danish Council of Agriculture, and the solution was urgent, since similar plans in Lithuania were being fostered by businesses in Great Britain, the Netherlands and Czechoslovakia. In spite of obvious competition, Landbrugsrådet made a cautious 88

decision. The Council did not agree to grant direct credit to the young Danish agronomists in Lithuania at the time. Only promises to help in mediation as well as legal and business issues were made. The potential tenants and the consul, E. Biering, could not help feeling disappointed.19 Some of the young agronomists, who had analysed the situation in Lithuania, had to leave and give way to other applicants with more capital. Finally, on 15 March 1923, the first three rental agreements were signed: Ch. Krebs leased the Karkliniai manor in Vilkaviškis County, P. Nøhr the Penkiniai manor in Vilkaviškis County, and I. O. Nielsen the Kvietiškis manor in Marijampolė County, while on March 25, C. Ch. Frederiksen and H. Tholstrup became tenants of the manor of Aniškis in Alytus County. Estates of 200‑250 hectares were leased for a certain fee for 12 years with the right to extend the lease for another 36 years, on condition that the tenants farmed “by the Danish example”, kept the breeding cattle in their manors, sowed part of the farmland with seeds of native species, and sold the offspring of the breeding cattle and part of the grain harvest to the locals. The Danes were obliged to take care of the manor buildings, to master the Lithuanian language in two years and to keep records in manor books in Lithuanian after a year. The leases could be terminated without any remuneration if the tenants did not comply with the terms; however, in that case, they could be transferred to other tenant recommended by the Danish Board of Agriculture. So, in 1923, the Danes managed to start to implement the “farmer‑tenant project”. “Now the tenants’ activity and readiness determined whether they would become an outpost in the new state,” as E. Biering put it.20 CHALLENGES ARISE However, the implementation of the expansion of the export market was complicated. In 1923, the tenants started to complain that excessive workers’ rights at the former manors and incomplete implementation of the Land Reform Law hindered successful farming. At the beginning of 1924, it became clear that the capital they had brought, in the amount of 20 thousand DKK, was not sufficient. The tenants apparently lacked some experience as well.21 J. O. Nielsen, the tenant CHAPTER 4

of the Kvietiškis manor, was the first to fail. He was forced to give up his lease in spring of 1926. Ch. Krebs had experience in self‑farming, but failed at the rented manor of Karkliniai because of a fire caused by an arsonist, which destroyed all the first year’s harvest. All the other property at the rented manor suffered considerable damage too. The lease of the Penkiniai manor was another failure. Despite the change in tenants and E. Biering’s efforts to provide complete support to the tenant L. Lund, the latter asked the Ministry of Agriculture of Lithuania to terminate his lease at the end of 1927. The only manor that the Danes managed to keep until 1940 – and which actually represented Danish farming – was that of Aniškis. The beginning there was also complicated. However, the situation changed fundamentally when H. C. Dons took over the lease in 1925. In a year, the new tenant began to fulfil all the terms of the contract, and soon became a good example of farm administration.22 The failure of the three Danish tenants was discussed in press both in Lithuania and Denmark. In an article in Berlingske Tidende, H. Tholstrup, one of those who had failed, claimed that one of the reasons for their failure was the idea itself – the young Danes had been told that the main goal of their activity was to acclimatize varieties of Danish cereal with a view to their further export to Russia. Since there appeared no market opportunities in Russia, the entire project was doomed to failure, as, according to H. Tholstrup, Lithuanians themselves were neither able nor willing to buy breeding grain and livestock. His former lease partner Ch. Krebs, on the contrary, blamed only the tenants themselves. The Danish diplomatic service assessed the ongoing discussion as detrimental to the work undertaken, and the allegations made were disproved in a specially commissioned article in the national financial daily Finanstidende.23 The “farmer‑tenant” project was not an accidental fact or a purely private initiative of several stakeholders. It was a natural expression of Danish policy in the Baltic States. Nor was the project merely a preparation for the expansion to Russia. Investment in qualified potential of specialists, i.e. “Danish‑minded” professionals, can be considered as a stage of a broader project for Lithuania in the longer term. In 1923, Sweden provided Lithuania with credit in the amount of 2 million SKK for the purchase of breeding cattle and dairy machinery. 90

Debate immediately began in Copenhagen as to whether Denmark had lost heavily to Sweden. Danish agrarians strongly doubted the success of the Swedish credit and were in favour of the so‑called “sustainable” expansion of the Danish market, albeit on a smaller scale. The country’s diplomats treated Stockholm’s solution to allocate funds and the decision made in Kaunas to take the credit offered on terms difficult to fulfil as a foreign policy goal – to make foreign countries interested in major issues of the Lithuanian foreign policy, namely those related to Vilnius and Klaipėda. The transfer of the Lithuanian diplomatic mission from Copenhagen to Stockholm was also explained as the need to keep the Swedish Prime Minister K. H. Branting informed on these issues.24 However, there must have been other thoughts among the Danish business community. At the end of 1923, the business daily Børsen invited the country’s government and business to stop living in the “euphoria of the war years”, when business was very simple, and to take decisive actions to secure a position in Lithuania.25 EXPANDING COOPERATION After losing the first small commercial war with the Swedish and seeing that the success of the “farmer‑tenant” project was vague, the Danish took the initiative to establish themselves in other areas of the Lithuanian economy. The beginning of Lithuania’s independent statehood was marked not only by political but also by economic problems. The country’s economy was weakened and devastated in the years of World War I. The country was in great need of significant investments in its reconstruction and the creation of an independent infrastructure. The development and modernisation of transport infrastructure was one of the most relevant tasks in interwar Lithuania. The construction of bridges, highways and railways required large investments, which the country’s economy and financial system were unable to provide. Only work that did not require large investments could be carried out by Lithuania itself. The Kužiai‑Telšiai railway line (53 km long) was built in 1924‑1925. There was a need for a credit to build the remaining part of the line to Klaipėda, which was 73 km long, because the construction in this stretch was much more CHAPTER 4

Aleksotas bridge. Kaunas, 1930

complicated and expensive. Other strategically important objects of the Lithuanian economy also needed foreign loans, which had been unsuccessfully sought since the first years of independence. The need for foreign credit for the development of the Lithuanian economy was well understood by Copenhagen politicians, diplomats and businessmen. E. Biering was sure that the credit for the reconstruction of Lithuania was necessary as soon as he started working in Kaunas.26 Although there had been some initiatives earlier, serious considerations about granting credit to Lithuania only started in Copenhagen in 1926. That was the year when the construction of the new bridges over the Nemunas and Neris rivers became a considerable concern. The city of Kaunas, which was the temporary capital of Lithuania at the time, is located at the confluence of the two largest Lithuanian rivers; therefore, ensuring reliable communication with the western and southern parts of the country and the expanding suburbs in their directions was extremely relevant. In 1926, an ice‑breaker had demolished the wooden Vilijampolė Bridge over the Neris, which was the most important transport connection with the western part of the country. Another major highway leading south ran across the old Aleksotas Bridge over the Nemunas, which was also wooden. Two Danish companies, Højgaard & Schultz and Christiani & Nielsen, were interested in the construction of the bridges. E. Biering, 92

now the Danish charge d’affaires in Lithuania, managed to avoid local competition and ensure the Lithuanian government submitted the order for the construction of the bridges to a Danish company without a tender. The Danish government allocated a credit of 3 million DKK for this construction. It initially consented to postpone the start of repayment for one year, and later for another year at Lithuania’s request. The credit itself, its favourable terms and the need for the bridges were the reasons why the Lithuanian government made the decision to do without a tender. The final decision was to be taken in the Seimas on 17 December 1926; however, the coup took place on the same day and adjusted the course of events. The interest shown in the situation was great. On the next day, 18 December, Danish newspapers were full of headlines about the events in Kaunas. It was feared that the organizers of the coup might take aggressive action to take Vilnius back, and that the return of the right to power might cause conflicts within the country.27 But according to E. Biering, what happened on December 17 was the best that could have happened. A strong coalition of the right was formed, and it became the best guarantor of progress. The former government, which involved the Social Democrats, had only halted the country’s progress. The Danish diplomat saw neither a real possibility for the new government to initiate a conflict with Poland nor a threat of pressure from abroad. The credit risk was no higher than anywhere else in Eastern Europe. The arguments of the Danish charge d’affaires in Lithuania were convincing. The behaviour of officials in Copenhagen implied that nothing had happened in Lithuania. On 11 January 1927, the Danish Export Credit Commission agreed to transfer the credit to 1927 and postpone the start date of its repayment. By giving a state loan to the Lithuanian government, the Danish reaffirmed their determination to strengthen ties between the two countries and expressed their support for the new government.28 It took almost another ten months for Kaunas to decide whether or not to use the Danish credit. Ultimately, on 6 September 1927. the Ministry of Transport and Communications and Højgaard & Schultz (hereinafter “H/Sch”) signed a contract for the construction of bridges over the Neris and Nemunas. CHAPTER 4

The Petras Vileišis Bridge over the Neris was opened on 23 October 1929, and the Vytautas the Great Bridge over the Nemunas on 11 January 1930. On the same day, the Telšiai‑Kretinga railway construction contract was signed. The lack of a direct railway line between Klaipėda and the rest of Lithuania was a serious deficiency in the transport infrastructure of the young state: It diminished Lithuania’s role as a transit country, limited the flow of goods to Klaipėda port, and hindered the economic progress of its western region. The railway infrastructure inherited from Tsarist Russia allowed travel from Kaunas to Klaipėda only through the territories of neighbouring countries or by a long‑distance bypass through Pagėgiai. Therefore, the construction of the railway line to Klaipėda was Lithuania’s highest priority. The Klaipėda‑Telšiai railway line was considered to be the most important connection of Lithuania with the rest of the world. Therefore, the aim was to build the line on a credit for construction, not on a concession contract for exploitation. In autumn of 1927, after signing the contract with H/Sch for the construction of bridges on the Danish export credit, the Ministry of Transport and Communications began to consider the possibility of organizing the construction of the Telšiai–Kretinga railway section in the same way. Such an idea was approved by H/Sch, E. Biering and the Danish envoy to Lithuania, F. Lerche. Lithuania was also willing to continue cooperation with the Danish.29 THE POLISH FACTOR INTERFERES Now, political factors, and primarily the development of Lithuanian‑Polish relations, had a special significance for the implementation of the Danish commercial idea. There were several reasons for relating economic interests to political analysis. The loan of 9 million DKK was necessary for the construction of the railway line. The threat of force majeure had to be predicted too. In 1927‑1929, there was another attempt made to settle the Vilnius issue in the general context of the pacification of Europe after the Locarno Pact. Relations between Kaunas and Warsaw fluctuated between bilateral contacts and open confrontation. Moreover, A. Voldemaras, head of the Lithuanian government, exploited the large contract as a 94

trump card, hoping to win the support of Germany and Britain in the effort to resolve the conflict between Lithuania and Poland. The beginning of negotiations on the railway construction contract in the autumn of 1927 coincided with the crisis of Lithuanian‑Polish relations, the solution of which was handed over to the Council of the League of Nations. No decisions on whether to grant the credit had been made in Copenhagen before the meeting between A. Voldemaras and J. Piłsudski in Geneva. However, its outcomes – Lithuania declared the end of the war and Poland recognised Lithuania’s independence and territorial integrity – made a good impression in Denmark. The Danish Export Credit Commission granted H/Sch’s application for an export credit, and Danish diplomats referred to A. Voldemaras’ personality as important to the possibility of resolving the long‑standing European conflict. Despite A. Voldemaras’ delayed and ultimately failed bilateral negotiations with Poland throughout the entirety of 1928 and his manipulation in relation to the railway order during his visits to Berlin and London, the history of the railway further developed. At the beginning of March 1928, the Finance Committee of the Danish Parliament approved the granting of an export credit to H/Sch (the approval was required due to the large amount of credit), and a few days later, a construction company submitted the Telšiai–Kretinga railway project and estimate to the Lithuanian Ministry of Transport and Communications. However, now H/Sch had to go into competition with English, German and Lithuanian contractors and submit new and cheaper offers in response to the renewed construction tenders from the Ministry of Transport and Communications. Negotiations essentially did not take place until the beginning of 1929. Meanwhile, E. Biering and the Danish Foreign Service closely monitored the course of Lithuanian‑Polish negotiations and development of relations, analysed Lithuania’s internal situation and assessed prospects of the country’s development. Judging from the comments provided by E. Biering, it can be assumed that, from the Danish point of view, the most important problem of the Lithuanian statehood at the end of the 1920s was the consolidation of the nation‑state. In the opinion of the diplomat, the successful development of the process required internal stability, which was best guaranteed, if compared to the previous, by the Nationalist regime. CHAPTER 4

The Vilnius issue remained the major foreign policy problem, however, and Lithuania had not yet matured enough for a positive solution, which would not have been harmful for the development of the Lithuanian civic consciousness. Europe did not have a reasonable opportunity for a political decision neither. Therefore, the ideal position of Lithuania was status quo both inside and abroad, mobilising all the country’s resources to strengthen the economy and civil society. In this case, the Danish efforts to promote the construction of the most important Lithuanian transport infrastructure should be seen as a positive Danish contribution to the strengthening of independent Lithuania and support for Lithuanian national aspirations. The Lithuanian ruling elite seems to have perceived the role of the Danish in a similar way, since after each break the proposals from Denmark and negotiations with Copenhagen were repeatedly referred to. IMPROVED MUTUAL BENEFITS At the beginning of 1929, A. Voldemaras invited K. Højgaard to Kaunas and suggested that his company should expand and deepen the port of Klaipėda along with the railway line by using the Danish export credit.30 It was planned to expand and deepen Klaipėda’s winter port to a depth of 7 metres, to repair the old embankments and build new embankments and piers nearly one and a half kilometres long. The new port basin was to be supplied with modern loading equipment. The total value of the project amounted to 5 million DKK. Modernisation of the only port provided greater opportunities to compete with ports of Germany, Poland and Latvia and was therefore important for the development of Lithuania’s economy. Besides, the port of Klaipėda – together with the railway line, which enabled the organization of direct communication from Klaipėda to Daugavpils and further from Smolensk to Moscow – was the essential part of the East‑West transit. Thus, the modernisation of the port that would enable the acceptance of larger draft ships and the construction of the railway line became a priority of the Lithuanian government. Therefore, there is no reason to doubt the economic and political significance of the transport complex to Lithuania. Furthermore, the 96

assignment of all the work to a Danish company, which was working on the basis of the Danish export credit, shows how important bilateral relations between the two countries were. Lithuania found the Danish contractors acceptable not only due to the favourable credit terms but also because they were not politically engaged. The Danes themselves fully perceived and valued their competitive advantage; it was emphasised by the Lithuanians too.31 The work for the Danes in Lithuania was a way to earn money, as well as an opportunity to strengthen their market and promote its expansion. After the meeting of A. Voldemaras, K. Højgaard and E. Biering, the railway construction contract was coordinated for almost another year and was signed, as mentioned before, with the opening of Vytautas the Great Bridge built by H/Sch in January 1930, while the contract for the development of Klaipėda port was signed on 2 August 1930. The rapidly intensifying economic cooperation between Lithuania and Denmark also preconditioned the signing of the permanent Trade and Shipping Contract at the beginning of June the same year (the first temporary Agreement was signed in 1923, and the project of the permanent one was drafted in 1925). The assessment of this cross‑border document on both sides of the Baltic Sea obviously proved its significance for the development of relations between the two countries. The semi‑official Lithuanian newspaper Lietuvos Aidas praised Denmark for being a country without imperialist ambitions, for cultivating harmonious relationships with its neighbours, for striving to consolidate peace and develop the country’s economy, and for granting Lithuania favour from the first days of the state’s existence. Bilateral relations had been successfully developing from the idea of the tenant‑farmer project to the implementation of the principles of the Covenant of the League of Nations to peacefully settle disputes on December 11, 1926, when the Arbitration Agreement was signed and until the construction of the two bridges in Kaunas. According to Lietuvos Aidas, this preconditioned the signing of the agreement, which could be described as a “political treaty”.32 Peter Munch, then the Danish Minister of Foreign Affairs, considered the contract an attempt made by small states to reduce the influence of the large ones, as well as the small states’ economic dependence on them.33 CHAPTER 4

VALUABLE TRADE RELATIONS EXPAND The maintenance of closer contacts between the two countries was also evidenced by the expanding geography of Denmark’s representation in Lithuania. In May 1929, at the suggestion of E. Biering, the Danish Consulate opened in Šiauliai, and the former Lithuanian Trade Attaché in Berlin and the Consul in Tilsit, a successful businessman Vladas Masiulis, became the Danish Consul. Before the closure of the consulate in Šiauliai in 1936, there had been three Danish representations in Lithuania – an embassy in Kaunas and consulates in Klaipėda and Šiauliai. Obviously, the beginning of the 1930s did not mark the culmination of the Danish‑Lithuanian relationship. The “Balticumproject” initiated in 1921 and aimed at realising the Danish vision of Lithuania began to bear fruit. The export and import of goods from and to Denmark started to grow from the beginning of the 1930s. In the middle of the decade, the volume of trade exceeded 7 million DKK annually. The number at the same point in the 1920s was three times smaller. Although the two countries remained small trading partners in the context of the global economic crisis, they became significant markets for each other’s traditional export goods at the end of the 1930s. For instance, Denmark sold cement that satisfied nearly half of the Lithuanian need, while Lithuania supplied two‑thirds of the draft horses to Danish farmers. The major construction work carried out by the Danish subcontractor H/Sch was undoubtedly profitable, since the arbitration case between the company and the Lithuanian government over the completed projects was settled by deciding to pay off part of the debt by giving the construction company shares of the cement plant, which was a new, large and significant object. Undoubtedly, Lithuania had a significant, and in a sense “cultural benefit” from the “Balticum‑project”, if the latter was understood in terms of C. A. Koefoed’s notion in 1922, by which the new state gained from the relationship with the older Danish one. The third and fourth decades of the Lithuanian economy and society were marked by rapid growth and modernisation. Danish activity in Lithuania, starting with the efforts to promote a market‑oriented farming model and finishing with investments in strategically important transport infrastructure, 98

Railway Telšiai-Kretinga slope drainage works. June 1932

substantially contributed to this process and literally paved Lithuania’s way to the world. Thus, it is not a coincidence that the slogan chosen for the opening ceremony of the Telšiai‑Kretinga railway in 1932 was “Through Samogitia to the Wide World”. From 1921 to 1940, Denmark realised its own vision of Lithuania, which was modified in a changing international environment. Denmark was, in fact, a partner of the young state, and contributed to both the modernisation of the Lithuanian society and the establishment of state power foundations. The “Balticumproject” was the most visible part of Danish‑Lithuanian relations, and had a tangible impact on Lithuania, Lithuanian society and the country’s economy. Therefore this set of politically supported Danish endeavours can be seen as a stepping stone for the restored relationship in 1991 – this time much more dynamic in terms of the political, economic and trade links.

CHAPTER 4

PART 2

REGAINING INDEPENDENCE AND RE-ESTABLISHING RELATIONS

CHAPTER 5

COPENHAGEN 1991 – OPENING THE BALTIC INFORMATION OFFICE By Dalius Čekuolis, fmr. Ambassador to Denmark (1992-1995) As one of the first Lithuanian diplomats of the re-established Lithuania, Dalius Čekuolis describes his arrival at Copenhagen in the early days of 1991 where his task was to restart the diplomatic relations between Denmark and Lithuania. The initial step was to open an information office – the first one outside the country – which Denmark had offered to host.

Hans Brask, the Danish Ambassador in Vilnius, asked me to write a few words on the beginning of the Lithuanian diplomatic presence in Copenhagen. The first thing that comes to mind is the huge contrast in my memories of the events that took place in a period of less than one month. On 20 December 1990, Foreign Minister Algirdas Saudargas, vice‑minister Valdemaras Katkus, Head of the North Europe department Giedrius Čekuolis (incidentally my twin brother, currently Lithuania’s ambassador in Stockholm), and me – then spokesperson for the MFA – arrived in Copenhagen for the opening of the Baltic Information Office. We came by plane via Moscow, as there was no direct flight. On the evening of the event, my brother and I strolled down from the SAS hotel to the town hall square, passing Tivoli, looking for the address 38 H.C. Andersen’s Boulevard, where the Baltic Information Office was to be opened. To our surprise, there was no sign of any such activity, no plate attached to the door. We thought we had gotten it wrong. CHAPTER 5

103

But of course, the next morning everything was in place, four flags – the Estonian, Latvian, Lithuanian and Danish – hoisted high on long white staffs. Uffe Ellemann‑Jensen and his Baltic colleagues were cheerful and smiling. Indeed, it was a very happy day, memorable in many respects, not least because of the exceptional Danish hospitality. Having been appointed by minister A. Saudargas as Lithuanian representative at the Baltic Information Centre, I was ready to go back to Vilnius for Christmas and the New Year, and then to pack my things and move to work in Copenhagen. And so we did. On 15 January 1991, I boarded the train to Berlin with my family, and went from there to Copenhagen. What a sharp contrast compared to the trip a month before! It was just two days after the tragic events in Vilnius, when the Soviet troops killed 14 people at the TV tower. The city was completely silent; people were shocked by the brutal agony of the Soviet regime. It felt sad boarding the train. There was a scent of uncertainty in the air; it felt like emigrating from Lithuania, without any knowledge of when we would be able to come back. It was a huge relief to have my wife Jūratė and 9‑year‑old daughter Laura on this trip with me. (By the way, later in 1991 Laura was admitted to the Rygaards International School in Hellerup, and this was the starting point of her studies, which continued in the European School of Brussels, followed by bachelor’s and master’s degrees from universities in Portugal and Belgium). It took a very long time for the Soviet border guards to check our passports. They kept asking about the purpose of our visit – obviously, they had no clue what this Baltic Information Office was about. Finally, we got through. In Berlin, we bought train tickets to Copenhagen. We had to wait long hours for the departure. I remember buying a small radio receiver to listen to the news on the BBC and Radio Free Europe. All the attention was on the war in Kuwait, but the events in Vilnius were mentioned as well. The next morning, we finally reached Copenhagen. With our bags on the platform, I went to the nearest telephone booth, dialled the number of the Danish Foreign Ministry, and asked to be connected to Head of Baltic Section, Lars Gronbjerg. He answered immediately: “You made it! Good! Stay where you are! I’m coming to pick you up.” The uncertainty ended. 104

Lars checked us into the Palace Hotel, just in front of the town hall, and shortly after we were talking to Christian Hoppe, Head of Department at the Danish Ministry of Foreign Affairs, and his colleagues. The following morning, I walked down the street from the hotel to the Baltic Information Office. Arvo Alas, our Estonian colleague, was already there, and soon Janis Ritenis from Latvia joined the club too. What followed I can perhaps best describe using the metaphor of a stream in a mountain river in the springtime: a series of meetings, invitations to talk to different audiences, interviews with the Danish and international press and radio, endless requests for information about the Baltic States, and many visitors coming in to express their support for the cause of freedom. We worked hard to establish contacts with foreign embassies in Copenhagen and with the business community, assisted in launching cultural projects in our respective countries, and, of course, focused on political contacts, including those at the highest level. IMPORTANT INTERNATIONAL RECOGNITION As a project, the Baltic Information Office in Copenhagen proved to be a visionary idea, and was extremely instrumental in supporting the Baltic States’ diplomatic efforts to accelerate the international recognition of their regained independence. We have to remember that Denmark never recognised the Soviet occupation of the Baltic States. But when my country declared independence on 11 March 1990, the international recognition did not happen immediately. The Soviet Union still maintained a substantial military presence in Lithuania, and Gorbachev was doing everything to stop the establishment of new independent state institutions. Lithuania was still suffering under an economic blockade. People were killed at the TV tower in Vilnius, and unarmed customs officers were shot dead by the OMON (Soviet Special Forces) at the Medininkai border post. These were extremely turbulent times, even now my hands turn cold when I think of it, although – looking at it retrospectively – it is good to know it finally ended well in August 1991, with the collapse of the USSR, and we celebrated the long‑awaited wave of international recognition. CHAPTER 5

105

Yet again, back in 1990 nobody could tell how long this turbulence would last. It could have gone either way. Minister Algirdas Saudargas instructed me to go to Copenhagen and “be ready for any scenario”. The Lithuanian diplomatic service never ceased to exist legally, and we had diplomatic representation in London, Washington DC, and a few other strategic locations: numerous prominent senior Lithuanian diplomats continued their work throughout the Soviet occupation. Our young Ministry of Foreign Affairs in Vilnius was “in the making”. I remember the times when we had only one printer at the Ministry, and we had to line up with colleagues to print out diplomatic notes and all sorts of other documents! We needed more tools, and we needed them right away. We craved to be heard in the world, and it was so very important to convey our message to Europe – to knock vigorously on the doors of various international conventions and organizations. The opening of the Baltic Information Office in Copenhagen was exactly what we required. I will always have the fondest memories of and gratitude for all our Danish colleagues, who not only conceived this project, but also did everything to make it happen, took a lot of care and provided substantial, professional support for its activities. I want to pay a special tribute to the late Danish Ambassador Mary Dau. Visiting Vilnius soon after 11 March, 1990 (the day the Parliament proclaimed the re‑establishment of the Republic of Lithuania), she said: “We will not give you fish. We’ll show you how to catch it.” Later in 1991, the Baltic Information Office naturally “dissolved” into three separate embassies – those of Lithuania, Latvia and Estonia. I simply cannot think of a better ending to the story… AN EMBASSY IN THE MAKING The task to actually set up an embassy was not the easiest one for me personally. The political part was good, because we had already established vast contacts in the Baltic Information Office with Danish authorities and members of Copenhagen’s diplomatic community. Starting August 1991, around 13 ambassadors residing in the Danish capital were also accredited to Lithuania. We used to organize regular 106

meetings with them, bringing additional guests from Vilnius. It was an efficient way to inform the international community about Lithuania’s foreign policy, domestic reform processes and business opportunities. But the burden of administrative and logistical tasks pressed harder. Denmark acquired embassy premises in Vilnius, and the money it was funded with soon “landed” in our account in Copenhagen. We had to find a suitable building for our own embassy here, and that was not easy. I realized it was a bit too expensive in the city centre, so we ended up buying a cosy house on Bernstorffsvej, in Gentofte. With the help of my wife, who handpicked and personally arranged all the furniture and décor, we transformed what had been a residence into a representative estate. We felt an almost overwhelming sense of responsibility, but also great excitement. After all, that house became the very first Lithuanian embassy after the regained independence. It was entirely our project, started from scratch, and a personal journey of hands‑on learning and decision‑making, amongst the bigger things. On top of it all, we started issuing the first Lithuanian visas. In other words, time was precious, and we simply started operating in an embassy that was in still the construction process. It took about a year to get all the pieces of the puzzle together. In November 1994, when I left Copenhagen to start my new mission in Brussels, it felt amazing to leave behind what had become a fully‑fledged embassy – with political, economic, and consular sections, and with the office of the Military Attaché in place.

CHAPTER 5

107

CHAPTER 6

DANISH HELP IN REGAINING BALTIC INDEPENDENCE By Uffe Ellemann-Jensen, fmr. Minister for Foreign Affairs of Denmark (1982-1993) Uffe Ellemann-Jensen, as the steadfast and dedicated advocate of the Baltic States’ inclusion into the Western structures in the early 1990s, looks back on how support of Lithuania’s and her Baltic neighbours’ independence process was successfully promoted in his capacity as fmr. Minister for Foreign Affairs. He also reflects on the lessons learned and the international challenges ahead.

Sometimes doing nothing can be of value for promoting a political process. This was the case when Lithuania struggled to regain independence in the late 1980s. Denmark had not recognised Lithuania’s or the two other Baltic states’ inclusion into the Soviet Union. This gave us some special opportunities when the cry for freedom spread in the Baltic countries, with the human chain in August 1989 as the most visible and moving manifestation. To mutual benefit, we made use of these opportunities. Representatives of the Baltic countries started to move around in Europe to advocate for their cause. They were welcomed in Denmark. And we raised their cause at EC‑ministerial meetings and other places. Not all countries agreed to put the Baltic cause on the agenda, though. “Don’t rock the boat!” was a message we often heard, because of fears to weaken the position of Gorbachev in Moscow. The first Baltic Prime Minister to arrive to Copenhagen was the Lithuanian Kazimiera Prunckienė, who was received in April 1990. She was taken around in the foreign ministry’s limousine carrying a CHAPTER 6

109

Uffe Ellemann-Jensen, former Minister for Foreign Affairs of Denmark, together with the foreign ministers of the three Baltic countries, Lord Chamberlain Søren HaslundChristensen and Ulrik Federspiel, Danish Permanent Secretary of State, in front of Fredensborg Palace. Photo: Private of Ulrik Federspiel

Lithuanian and a Danish flag. And she and I held a joint press conference with our two flags on the table in front of us. The Soviet ambassador showed up with a protest, but we told him that the Danish recognition of Lithuania as an independent state from September 1921 was still valid. Interest in the Baltic States was growing in Denmark. The Danish Cultural Institute was opened on 18 August 1990 in Riga after the necessary sum of money was secured by a crowd funding initiated by the Danish newspaper Politiken with the support from the foreign ministry. On 20 December 1990, a Baltic Information Bureau was opened in Copenhagen, financed by the foreign ministry. Each Baltic country got an office, and each sent a representative, who later became the first ambassador (from Lithuania came Dalius Čekuolis; see separate chapter 7). At the opening of the Information Bureau, all three Baltic foreign ministers were present. During the ceremony, we received news that Soviet Foreign Minister Edouard Shevardnadze had resigned, and this was bad news for the constructive forces in Moscow. And rightly so: About a month later, Soviet OMON forces attacked the TV‑tower in 110

Vilnius and the Saeima in Riga. Fourteen people were killed, and the general mood was gloomy. Something needed to be done to keep the development on track. Therefore, immediately after these events, Denmark signed three joint protocols of cooperation with each of the Baltic countries. The joint protocol between Lithuania and Denmark was signed on 28 February by Algirdas Saudargas and me in our capacity as foreign ministers. Here, it was formally stated that the recognition by Denmark of Lithuania as an independent state from 1921 was still valid. Denmark had never recognised the forcible inclusion of Lithuania into the Soviet Union in 1940. The protocol stated that “Denmark will continue its efforts to gain support for the admission, or readmission, of Lithuania to full membership of relevant international organizations of which it wants to become a member”. And later: “The parties will seek to take full advantage of their agreement on the establishment of a joint contact group on economic, industrial and technical cooperation which was concluded in 1990. The first meeting of the contact group will be held in the near future [...]. The parties noted in particular that a number of cooperation ventures have been initiated or are under discussion, notably in the area of agriculture, education and environmental protection.” The protocol ended: “When the situation makes it possible, Denmark and Lithuania will seek to re‑establish diplomatic relations”. At that time, not many of us believed this would happen soon. After what happened that summer at the Lithuanian border post at Medininkai (after several attacks, seven officers were murdered on 31 July 1991), the goal seemed far away. Moscow reacted sharply to the protocols, calling our ambassador up for a verbal bashing while the Soviet ambassador in Copenhagen showed up with a strong protest and thinly veiled threats to make life difficult for us in some areas where we were vulnerable. They never materialised, because in August that year, the political development in Moscow started to unfold very quickly. The “putsch” in Moscow started on a Monday morning, but on Wednesday it became clear that the putsch had failed, and on Saturday CHAPTER 6

111

24th August, we were in a position to declare that we were re‑establishing diplomatic relations with the three Baltic countries. As the first tangible illustration, on 26 August, ambassador Otto Borch was sent on a special mission to the three Baltic States as the first arriving foreign ambassador since World War II without a Soviet visa. In parallel, the three Baltic foreign ministers came to Copenhagen on 26 August to sign a joint communique confirming this decision. The final paragraph read: “It is with a feeling of profound joy and satisfaction that we now enter a new era in the relations between our countries”. H.M. the Queen was at that time in her summer palace in Fredensborg, north of Copenhagen, but she had insisted on receiving the foreign ministers Lennart Meri (Estonia), Janis Jurkans (Latvia) and Algirdas Saudargas (Lithuania). So, late in the evening, we got into a minibus and went to Fredensborg. We arrived around 11 o’clock. It was a full moon, and a company from the Royal Life Guard was standing in attention in full regalia before the Palace, with their music corps playing a ceremonial march. Jurkans said drily to his Estonian colleague: “Lennart, don’t cry”. But I think we were all deeply moved by the moment. At the stairs of the Palace, we were received by the royal dog, a dachshund, and footmen in full regalia – and in the hall, the Queen received my three colleagues with a glass of champagne and a short speech ending with a “Welcome to the free world!”. A few weeks later, I visited Lithuania for the first time in my life. It was an unforgettable event. My friend Speaker of the Parliament (and the highest officer of the state) Vytautas Landsbergis received me in his office, where he played a piece by the Lithuanian composer Čiurlionis on his small piano – and then he took my wife and me to the town of Šiluva, where the annual religious celebrations had drawn some 50.000 people. A moving experience! From there, we went to Moscow for a meeting of the CSCE (Conference on Security and Cooperation in Europe) where the three Baltic countries were welcomed as new members at a ceremony in which their flags were added to the 35 flags already there. We felt that we had finally passed a decisive line. *

112

What followed was a very busy time for all of us. It was as if the world had opened up and a lot of dreams were coming true. Francis Fukuyama wrote his famous book about “The end of history”, and we were all deeply involved in the creation of the new world order and the new European structure. What followed was NATO and EU enlargement. Optimism was in the driving seat. That was then. But I cannot resist the opportunity to point out that today we are facing a different world: The ideals and values of European integration – as formulated in the so‑called “Copenhagen Criteria” – are being attacked, both from abroad and from within member states. Were we naïve at the time when Fukuyama’s “end of history” was openly exaggerated and misunderstood? To some extent, yes. But it was difficult not to be. I remember warning at the time that we had to remember that the medal of freedom has two sides. The backside meant that freedom could be used and misused to settle old scores. That excessive nationalism, which had been kept under a lid during the oppressive years, could resurface. This could lead to policies where national minorities or neighbours were targeted both in order to regain recent losses and to cover for lack of results on the way to a better future. That was what happened. The scourge of excessive nationalism is now found in all countries, old democracies as well as what are still often called “new democracies”, and in small as well as bigger countries. We find it in my country – and we find it in Lithuania. Now, nationalism does not have to be a negative force. Being proud of your nation and your heritage can be a positive driver. But if it leads to rejection of international cooperation, problems arise. Europe is facing some very existential challenges. We face a Russia bent on revanchism and lack of respect for the international order that Russia itself was instrumental in creating in the 1990s. Most of the agreements we toiled to establish during the last phase of the Cold War have either been scrapped or just brushed aside – most CHAPTER 6

113

dramatically, when Russia seized Crimea and started fighting a war in eastern Ukraine. But we have also witnessed how many of the confidence‑ and security‑building measures that came out of the Helsinki process in the 1970s have been thrown away. We have also seen how some of the agreements dealing with the nuclear threat are either scrapped or will soon expire unless serious efforts are undertaken by both major nuclear powers. All of this leaves Europe more vulnerable – particularly the smaller European nations that now are front line states. This is where the need for an active NATO alliance becomes so important. NATO has established a presence in these states – the so‑called eFP, enhanced Forward Presence. A limited number of troops from other NATO countries are stationed as what has been called a “trip‑wire” or a “road bump”, demonstrating solidarity against possible aggression. If you mess with one country, you will be met with a response from all countries. One for all and all for one. I still remember one ice‑cold morning in Vilnius, the day after NATO enlargement with the Baltic countries was decided at the Prague Summit. The American president at the time, George W. Bush, declared there that from now on, anyone who made himself an enemy of Lithuania would also become an enemy of the United States. The response from the thousands of freezing Lithuanians who stood and stamped their feet on the town hall square in Vilnius was deafening. On the wall of the town hall, you can still see the quote on a plaque memorialising this event. It is important that all European NATO partners signal that this is not only an American undertaking. We are all part of it, big and small. But this does not change the fact that the security of Europe depends on American support of the alliance. And we have recently been reminded that this support cannot be taken for granted. It is important that we Europeans demonstrate our readiness to live up to the rules and agreements that bind the alliance together. In other words: the days are over, when the disproportionate size of the American column in the alliance compared with the European column was just something possible to brush aside... 114

And this example shows us the core of the challenges faced by the small countries in Europe: We have to make us worth defending – even though this might demand an extra effort on our side. * The same goes for the cohesion of the EU. We may have all kinds of worries and reservations with regard to the so‑called “loss of sovereignty” that is part of belonging to such a union – like accepting a special set of rules where we can be overruled, if we want to go our own ways. But at the end of the day, it can only weaken the cohesion upon which we are much more dependent than the bigger member states if we try to go our own ways. Look at what is happening with Brexit. This is indeed an eye‑opener for the smaller nations in Europe. There is a price to pay, if you want to go your own way, and the Brits – or rather the English – have yet to find out how big that price is. Not because some sinister countries on the continent wished to punish the English for voting for Brexit, but because you cannot allow one member, and soon former member, to reap the benefits on the expense of those who choose to remain. Of course not. It is not Christmas, and Santa Claus has not moved his residence from Greenland to Brussels... I am particularly worried about the way in which the EU has proved unable to tackle the challenge from those member states that want to go their own way with regard to democratic rules, while remaining in and benefitting from membership of the EU. Countries like Hungary and also Poland are doing exactly that – playing with democracy in a way that is not acceptable, from weakening freedom of the press to undermining the rule of law and using gerrymandering and other tricks to change the democratic structure. If I should have some regrets with regard to the enlargement process that culminated with the EU summit in Copenhagen 2003, it is that we did not create sufficient instruments to deal with member countries that forgot the basic rules once they were in. Well, there is a treaty article that can take away voting rights from a member state – but it cannot be used if more than one member state chooses to back another. CHAPTER 6

115

Instead, we have to hope that there is sufficient political will to deal with such members in a way that takes money away from them. I cannot see other ways to go. I am only too aware of the havoc this will bring. But we cannot allow the disrespect for basic rules of democracy to spread. * In this complicated picture, the role of the small countries is a clear one: It is in our own best interest to support the structures both in the EU and in other fora – and defend them from attacks from those who wish to wind the clock back to a time when everybody believed they could make their own rules. Some have compared the present situation with the Cold War. I don’t agree. After all, we had certain safeguards in place then in order to avoid catastrophe. A price was paid for that, as you in Estonia are only too well aware. No, I rather fear that we are moving back to what we saw in the 1930s, where the lack of an international order – and international leadership – led to a situation where everyone tried to make his neighbour the loser. “Beggar Thy Neighbour”, as it was called. This led to poverty and social disruption – and in the end, to the rise of undemocratic regimes and wars. Democracy is under pressure, not just in Europe but globally. The rise of China, democratic breakdowns in Latin America, plus the pressure from conflicts in Africa and the Middle East, explosive numbers of migrants and refugees, the risk of a war between NATO members Turkey and Greece, and the uncertainty of where the US is going – all this bears down heavily on Europe. And being small means that you are first in line if the elephants starts to trample down the grass... That would be a pity indeed, because small nations carry a lot of value – if they manage to deal with excessive nationalism within their own borders.

116

PART 3

MILITARY LINKS

CHAPTER 7

FIRST ENGAGEMENT: DANISH-LITHUANIAN MILITARY COOPERATION IN THE EARLY 1990S By Niels Johansen, Danish Defence Attaché to the Baltic States, and Jakob Greve Kromann, Deputy Head of Mission at the Danish Embassy in Lithuania Niels H. Johansen and Jakob Kromann describe how the Danish-Lithuanian cooperation in the military field developed from relatively unstructured activities to thoroughly planned projects in the early 1990s.

INTRODUCTION The initial military cooperation between Denmark and Lithuania, which we define as the period from 1991 to 1994, is a fascinating and inspiring showcase of how important pure political will is as a driver for accomplishing national security policy objects. Lithuania’s will to develop credible Western‑style and interoperable armed forces in order to become member of NATO, combined with Denmark’s will to support a like‑minded neighbour both in solidarity and in national self‑interest, created marvellous results even in the early years. However, the first engagements were not without challenges that had to be overcome, as we will describe in this chapter. These first engagements had a huge impact on the later development of the military cooperation between Denmark and Lithuania. They slowly expanded into more areas, thereby laying the groundwork for all the interconnected and successful joint Danish‑Lithuanian projects and operations that have followed ever since, many of which are described CHAPTER 7

123

in the following chapters of this book. Therefore, the very beginning is crucial to understand and remember in order to get the full picture of the Danish‑Lithuanian military relations. CONTACT ESTABLISHED – WITH A ROYAL TOUCH Shortly before the building that hosted the Lithuanian Department of National Defence became the Danish Embassy premises, as described in the box below, the first General Director of the Lithuanian Defence Department, Audrius Butkevičius, paid his first visit to Denmark in late September 1991. Here, he participated in several meetings: At the Danish Ministry of Defence, he discussed the possibilities for the Danish Home Guard to train the newly established Voluntary National Defence Service in Lithuania. He also met with the Danish Parliamentary Defence Committee, including Chairman Hans Hækkerup. The two established very good relations, which became useful when Hækkerup became Minister of Defence in 1993. Lastly, Butkevičius participated in an international conference organised by the non‑governmental organisation “The Danish Foreign Policy Society” on the island of Bornholm. The conference was entitled “Soviet, Russian and Baltic Security” and included participants from Denmark, Estonia, Finland, Latvia, Lithuania, Poland, Sweden and Russia. THE LITHUANIAN DEFENCE DEPARTMENT BECOMES THE DANISH EMBASSY The Lithuanian Department of National Defence was established 25th of April 1990 with Audrius Butkevičius as General Director. At that time, the assessment in Lithuania was that it would not (yet) be prudent to establish a ministry as such and in the beginning, the Department operated from two small offices in the Parliament building but settled officially at Kosciuškos str. 36 on the 1st of June 1990. When Soviet paratroopers attacked strategic objects in Vilnius on the evening of 11th of January 1991, the Department of

Kosciuškos str. 36 on the night between 11th and 12th of January 1991. Volunteer Rimas Litvinas being interviewed. Credit: Marius Baranauskas.

National Defence was among the targets. At the time of the attack, there was only a team of three persons present: voluntary defence guards Petras Gineitis, Rimas Litvinas and Ričardas Pocius. In order to save the symbol of the Lithuanian sovereignty, Pocius took the official flag of Department of National Defence, wrapped it around his hip, escaped under fire from the paratroopers and ran to the nearby river Neris. He jumped into the freezing water and swam a few hundred meters downstream. When out of sight of the paratroopers, he went ashore and headed on to the Parliament building where he handed in the flag to the Seimas. The two other volunteers resisted but were overmatched by the Soviets. Gineitis managed to get away, but Litvinas was beaten to unconsciousness and left in the building. After the attack, he was found, revived and interviewed by a Russian TV‑crew that had arrived to document what had happened. The building was under Soviet control in the following months and only abandoned by the Soviets after the failed Soviet coup d’état in Moscow 21st of August 1991.

Quickly hereafter, Denmark officially restored diplomatic relations with Lithuania on 24th of August 1991. The Danish Ambassador in Sweden, Otto Rose Borch, was immediately side‑accredited to Lithuania and he landed in Kaunas Airport on the 26th of August 1991. However, Borch was soon to be retired and was therefore already replaced on the 2nd of October by Ambassador Dan Nielsen. Nielsen moved into Hotel Draugystė (now Crowne Plaza) while searching for a suitable residence and premises for the embassy in Vilnius. Since the newly liberated building at Kosciuškos str. 36 was assessed by the Department of National Defence to be too small to house the future Ministry of National Defence, which was established on 16th of October 1991, Denmark was offered to use it. The Danish Embassy at Kosciuškos str. 36 opened on the 29th of October 1991 and is still there today. In his briefing about the current situation, Butkevičius said that Lithuania had two main security policy goals: The complete withdrawal of the Soviet Army, and the creation of a reliable system of defence for Lithuania. According to Butkevičius, the latter included recognising that Lithuania ”would like to be integrated into the European system of defence.” He ended his address by stating: “Today, the security of the Baltic States is also the security of Europe.” With this in mind, it quickly became clear that the Danish diplomatic presence in Lithuania also needed a military element when the time was ripe. Therefore, in order to assist the relatively small and newly established Danish Embassy with military knowledge, Lieutenant Colonel Carsten Barløse was accredited as the first Danish Defence Attaché to Lithuania on 7 July 1992. However, he was already Defence Attaché to Poland and had his primary office in Warsaw*. When Barløse arrived, he had three major tasks in his briefcase: Firstly, support the upcoming state visit to Lithuania by Her Majesty *

126

Denmark also applied this concept of side‑accreditation in Estonia and Latvia, where the Danish Defence Attachés in Sweden and Finland was side‑accredited to the two other Baltic countries.

the Queen, Margrethe II. Secondly, invite 5‑20 soldiers from the National Defence Volunteer Service to a course at the Danish Home Guard School in Nymindegab. Thirdly, arrange the deployment of a Danish infantry platoon to Lithuania in order to evaluate potential training areas for future joint training and exercises. The first of Barløse’s tasks – to support the upcoming state visit by Her Majesty the Queen – was set for 31 July 1992, i.e. already three weeks after his arrival in Vilnius. This gave very little time for preparations; they mainly consisted of the accreditation itself. As a strong symbolic gesture, the very first activity in the royal program was to pay a visit to Antakalnis Cemetery, where the Queen laid a wreath at the graves of Lithuanian Freedom Fighters who lost their lives at the TV tower and Parliament on 13 January 1991 – just one and a half years earlier. However, the main assignment for Lieutenant Colonel Barløse during the state visit was to assist the Royal Danish Navy Band, which was to deliver a military tattoo in the main square in Vilnius. As it was a formal state visit, it was important that it also included a military component, and as the navy band constituted this part, it was of even bigger significance that it deliver a splendid and inspiring tattoo. This proved to be difficult. Lieutenant Colonel Barløse reported in an interview for this chapter: “The state visit was not as thoroughly prepared as it would have been in most other countries, since Lithuania’s state capacity was not yet fully developed at the time. Therefore, there were no fences or similar security measures put up to guard the Danish soldiers. So, during the tattoo, the seamen had huge problems holding their lines because the spectators were so delighted to see and hear them that they rushed to the nearest flower shop and bought bunches of long‑stemmed roses, ran back into the square, and put the roses in the astonished seamen’s webbing while showering them in effusive kisses. At one point of time, I feared that the tattoo would dissolve, but of course, it did not. It was a beautiful gesture and a tangible proof that the Lithuanians were excited about the Danish visit. Of course, the Danish Navy Band looked and played in a remarkably different way than the Soviet military bands. For me, it was a very pleasant experience to see the beginning of the heartfelt relations between Denmark and Lithuania this way”. CHAPTER 7

127

LITHUANIAN MILITARY DELEGATION VISIT DENMARK – AND DANISH HOME GUARD VISIT LITHUANIA After the state visit by HM the Queen, it was clear that much untapped potential for cooperation just waited to be utilised, also in the military field. Therefore, a Lithuanian military delegation led by Lieutenant Colonel Valdas Tutkus, Chief of the Joint Staff of the Ministry of National Defence, visited the Danish Chief of Defence, General Jørgen Lyng, in Denmark from 28 September to 2 October 1992. This was the first time a Lithuanian military delegation visited another country after regaining independence, and it proved a sign of the political eagerness to quickly establish fruitful and operational relations on both sides.1 During the meeting, the Danish Defence Command briefed the Lithuanians on topics that could be of use in relation to the build‑up of the Lithuanian armed forces. One of them was the importance of having a corps of well‑trained non‑commissioned officers. Also, the voluntary forces were already a central part of Lithuanian defence, since these had been the most uncomplicated and least resource‑intensive units to establish in the early days. The National Defence Voluntary Service (Lithuanian abbreviation: SKAT) was established

Commander of the Danish Home Guard, Rud Gotlieb, hands over the symbolic weapon to Colonel Jonas Gečas outside the Seimas in Vilnius on 15 January 1993.1

128

on 17 January 1991, while the Lithuanian Armed Forces were restored later, on 19 November 1992. So, when Denmark initially looked for Lithuanian organisations to establish contact with, the time aspect was an obvious reason for the fact that it was first achieved with SKAT. Thus, as an outcome of the military delegation’s visit, Denmark offered to train members of the Lithuanian voluntary forces, but also junior officers and non‑commissioned officers, in Denmark in late 1993. Yet, the initial Danish success in establishing good contacts with SKAT was due to one more reason. Major General Gintautas Zenkevičius, formerly responsible in the Lithuanian Home Guard for the cooperation with Denmark, explained: “Roughly speaking, you could say that culturally, the voluntary forces had their roots in the traditions of the Forest Brothers and the Sajudis Movement, those who fought for regaining Lithuanian independence, while many officers in the regular defence forces in the very beginning to a larger degree had their roots in the very strict Soviet‑Russian style military system. Therefore, it felt more natural for the voluntary forces to engage in cooperation and accept external support. This was also why the voluntary forces more easily could adapt to the Danish defence thinking.” The relations between the two voluntary forces developed quickly, and the Danish Home Guard conducted the first official meeting in Vilnius in January 1993. During the meeting, future cooperation and support was agreed. As we will see in the following, the initial Danish support was particularly substantial when it came to the development of the training infrastructure, the setup of the Lithuanian Voluntary National Defence Service and the provision of logistic support. However, this cooperation between the Lithuanian Home Guard, now “Krašto Apsaugos Savanorių Pajėgos” (KASP), and the Danish Home Guard has since expanded heavily and changed its focus to capacity building, organisational development, education, training and exercises in both Denmark and Lithuania. It became a jewel of the Danish‑Lithuanian military cooperation that was founded at such early stage. During this first Danish military visit to Lithuania, the Commander of the Danish Home Guard, Major General Rud Gotlieb, memorably presented a Husqvarna submachine gun to the Chief of Staff of SKAT’s CHAPTER 7

129

Command, Colonel Jonas Gečas. The submachine gun, which was still functioning, was the first weapon internationally donated to SKAT. To underpin the pronounced symbolism, the specific submachine gun was originally used by Danish freedom fighters during World War II in the fight against the Nazi invaders. Within the Home Guard delegation was also a representative from the Danish Army Command, Major Finn H. Bertelsen. He participated in order to discuss future army training support and, in that way, kick‑start the cooperation between the Danish and Lithuanian armies, which were also about to develop substantially. TRAINING OF LITHUANIAN SOLDIERS – A CORNERSTONE OF THE COOPERATION The second task of Defence Attaché Barløse was to invite 5‑20 soldiers from the National Defence Volunteer Service to a training course at the Danish Home Guard School in Nymindegab. The course, named “Projekt Litauen” (Project Lithuania”) by the Danes, was executed 31 July – 22 August 1993, and included 19 Lithuanian participants ranking from private to colonel. Yet, that was not all. In the following months, from 25 September to 16 December 1993, the Danish Army Non‑Commissioned Officers School in Odense conducted a non‑commissioned officers’ course. Here, the 20 Lithuanian participants were between 19 and 31 years old and their military experience ranged from no practical experience whatsoever to military service in the former Soviet Army. Some even had combat experience in Afghanistan. Following these two courses in 1993, the Danish Army Combat School in Oksbøl conducted a course for Lithuanian officers from 15 January to 15 March 1994. It was compressed, lasting eight weeks, which was half of the time used for the same course for Danish students. In this course, the participants had an average age of 26 years and came from all services in Lithuania, with ranks from 2nd to 1st Lieutenant. Their military experience ranged widely as well, from no practical experience as officers to four years of officers’ training in the Soviet Army followed by up to 11 years of active service. 130

The number of participants in this third course was deliberately set to 32, because this is the number required to establish a motorised infantry platoon. Consequently, through various tactical exercises, the course as such aimed to train all the functions within a platoon. The idea was to enable the participants to take command as platoon leaders, e.g. being able to command an infantry platoon deployed in tactical manoeuvres such as assembly area procedures, advance, attack, and defence. All of this, of course, was to be done using Danish tactics and principles of military management. With these three Danish courses for Lithuanian soldiers at different levels, the foundation was laid for one of the cornerstones of Denmark’s assistance in re‑developing Lithuania’s defence. After having been under Soviet occupation for several decades, the Lithuanian forces had much to learn about many different aspects of military organization in a Western context. The fundamental intention was that upon homecoming, the newly trained junior officers, inspired by the Danish approach and principles, would be able to take the lead in reforming and modernising the Lithuanian units. The courses came with several challenges, though. One of them was the language barrier. All written material as translated into Lithuanian in advance, but this was not practically possible with the verbal communication during the courses. So, the problem was that in all three courses, the large majority of the Lithuanian participants did not have any level of English language skills – and the Danish soldiers obviously did not speak Lithuanian. Therefore, military linguists from the Army Special School translated the instructors’ communication into Russian. This still did not solve all the issues, though, so the Home Guard School soon hired Lithuanian women who had married Danish men to translate directly between the Danish instructors and the Lithuanian participants. This allowed for much smoother communication, and was a good example of how the courses were quickly adjusted and improved and obstacles overcome. Nevertheless, one of the courses’ key challenges was less tangible than language issues: Coming from Soviet society and a communist defence organization, the Lithuanian soldiers had little knowledge about what democracy was in practice and how it affected the militaries of democratic CHAPTER 7

131

societies like Denmark. This meant that it was particularly difficult for the Lithuanian course participants to grasp Danish thinking and how the Danish military operated and was organised. The Danish methods were indeed very different from what they already knew. Accordingly, the main topics of the initial courses were an introduction to Danish democracy and society and how these affect the military as an organization, instructors’ training, course design, and military management. Summed up, they were focused on methodology and mind‑set, which became Denmark’s primary focal points in assisting in re‑building Lithuania’s defence forces: How to teach and achieve (training) objectives within a modern and democratic framework in the military? So, there were significant gaps to be bridged, as the then commander of the Home Guard School, Colonel B. Hess, described after the course in Nymindegab2: “The overall experience gained from the course is that at this point there is a very long way from Lithuanian culture, politics and mind‑set to Danish democracy. Despite all theoretical and practical efforts, we did not succeed in meeting the set goals in this area – namely explaining democratic organizing. […] As individuals, Danes and Lithuanians are quite alike. However, the Danish social conventions, including Danish pedagogy, as well as the Danish light‑heartedness and accessibility, do not really equate to the Lithuanian seriousness. […] Our Western understanding of management theory was also remarkably different from that of the Lithuanians. No matter how a given concept was translated into Lithuanian, they found it very difficult to understand the theory around military leadership. The course participants interpreted our type of military management as being borderline soft.” In the Danish Army Non‑Commissioned Officers School, they had similar experiences after the course for non‑commissioned officers. The official purpose of this course was “to provide the participant with such knowledge, ability and attitude that he is able to act as an instructor and commander of subordinated personnel at private and non‑commissioned officer level using Danish educational and management principles”. Despite these course objectives, Major A.B. Richter wrote in an evaluating article3: “The results have of course not been achieved without difficulties. This stems from fundamental national differences, ranging from language and attitudes to social backgrounds, traditions, and culture. In addition to this, there are great differences in the 132

understanding and use of significant concepts, such as collaboration, shared responsibility, shared influence, independence, acceptance of norms, discipline, sanctions, democracy, and respect for colleagues. In some cases, important Danish concepts were completely unknown amongst the participants. For example, the idea of motivation. This has meant that everyone involved has used a great deal of time explaining and exchanging experiences related to these concepts. Tied to this, it is fair to say that opportunities to use the Danish principles and concepts in Lithuania are not immediately expected.” Of course, this was a realistic expectation, especially as it was made clear from both sides that the Lithuanians would only take what they believed they could use from the Danish thinking, and leave the rest. The Danish aim was simply to present the Danish‑style democratic military as inspiration to their Lithuanian colleagues, bearing in mind that Denmark’s defence forces had good experiences in the field, based on NATO standards. Besides, things quickly started to improve. PERSISTENCE, IMPROVEMENTS AND RESULTS Having learned from previous experience, the instructors of the third course, this time for Lithuanian officers, knew they had to make more thorough preparations if they wanted to achieve the best possible results. Therefore, after arrival in Denmark, the participants went through a pre‑course at the Army Special School in Copenhagen before the course itself. Here, the main focus was an introduction to Danish culture and democratic society, the Danish way of living, and organisation of the Danish military. In addition, already on 24 – 26 May 1993, a small Danish delegation visited Vilnius in order to prepare the course. The main purpose of the visit was to learn about the coming participants’ conditions. These preparatory initiatives paid off, as Major C. Bengt at the Army Combat School explained in an article about the outcome of the course4: “The course was completed according to the set plan and without problems. It appeared that the participants were conscious about and honoured to be ambassadors for their country, which they represented to the best of their abilities. In the beginning, the participants were a little CHAPTER 7

133

hesitant to fully engage because they were accustomed to a more formal social tone. For example, the participants were used to teaching being solely one‑way communication without them being asked any questions. Similarly, the participants were accustomed to stand at attention and salute whenever addressing their teacher. Yet, already during the first week of education, there was a lively two‑way communication during classes. […] The students were friendly, thoughtful, very interested and accommodating, but also honourable. Their physical condition was good, and they showed great stamina while doing physically demanding tasks. The completed exam showed that the goal we had set for the course was achieved with a satisfactory to very satisfactory result.” With these positive experiences in mind, the majority of the officers were, by the end of the course, enthusiastically going back to Lithuania to implement their new skillsets based on Danish military thinking. However, a number of them expressed a concern that some senior officers in Lithuania might be reluctant to implement the most extensive democratic principles. This concern was well‑founded, as in the early days of the training courses, there was a widespread hesitation and scepticism towards the Danish methods and principles, particularly in the Lithuanian regular forces, but also in the voluntary forces. This was simply because the system and organisational culture they knew were so different. Major General Gintautas Zenkevičius gave an example: “At that time in the Lithuanian military, the soldiers were used to doing many things on the spot, without long and deep planning. Therefore, it was interesting to see the planning processes in Denmark: How long a time it took to plan something or go to exercises. How methodical the Danes were, and how slow they were, seen from our perspective. We would do everything faster. Yet, when you got more experience and learned about this, you no longer thought it was wrong. It was a question of culture. We discussed this in the courses, and we learned to be open and understand that there are no stupid questions, only stupid answers. So, you should never be afraid to ask questions.” Thus, in many ways, the courses in Denmark were even more about cultural and mental change than about teaching practical skills. These cultural changes involved how to cooperate, communicate, organize, treat each other, and how to think about both specific problem‑solving issues and each soldier’s role inside the military. They even addressed how to view the military’s role within society in general; the military 134

being a de‑politicised, neutral and apolitical institution was something the Lithuanian service members also had to accept. All of these fundamental cultural and mental changes among the Lithuanian soldiers were necessary in order for the Lithuanian defence forces to become a modern, Western, and democratised military – and for the country to be considered a potential future NATO member. It was naturally a difficult process that took time, but the Lithuanian forces had a strong motivation, and combined with the widespread Danish wish to help, it eventually created numerous success stories: According to Major General Zenkevičius, who was responsible for the Danish‑Lithuanian voluntary forces training courses in 1996‑1999, the courses became a structured, frequent, and effective scheme in these years. Lots of courses were conducted in Denmark with successful focus on the themes that needed attention. BILATERAL AGREEMENT ON MILITARY COOPERATION In parallel to the first training of the Lithuanian non‑commissioned officers in Denmark, the Danish Chief of Defence, General Jørgen Lyng, and the Commander of the Army Command, General Ole Kandborg, paid a visit to their Lithuanian counterparts on 26 – 29 September 1993*. During the visit, a bilateral agreement on military cooperation on the chief of defence level was signed, paving the way for upcoming military projects. Importantly, General Lyng offered during the meeting that three or four Lithuanian officers could conduct at fact‑finding tour to the Danish Battalion in Croatia in order to collect first‑hand impressions of a UN peacekeeping mission. This soon became very pertinent.5 On the 11th of March 1994, the first political bilateral cooperation agreement on military cooperation was signed in Vilnius by the two countries’ ministers of defence, Hans Hækkerup and Linas Linkevičius. The agreement focused on development of relations, capacity rebuilding and modernisation of the Lithuanian armed forces. *

Although the Supreme Council empowered the President of the Republic of Lithuania to appoint and dismiss the Chief of Defence with the approval of the Seimas on 19 November 1992, the first Lithuanian Chief of Defence was appointed nearly one year later, on 20 October 1993.

CHAPTER 7

135

Photoshoot outside the Iron Wolf Brigade Headquarters in Vilnius, ultimo September 1993, during the visit of General Lyng and General Kandborg.4

The bilateral agreement was of course highly important, as it laid out some guidelines for the future cooperation and projects, but what really mattered was the so‑called “Helicopter Agreement”. Danish Defence Minister Hans Hækkerup wrote in his memoirs6: “I met him [Linkevičius, ed.] the year before during a North Atlantic Assembly meeting7 in Copenhagen and the chemistry between us was excellent from the very beginning. During my official visit in March 1994, we had good and constructive discussions from the very start and was now on route from Vilnius to Klaipeda in a Mi‑8 helicopter. Here, we continued our discussion, but the helicopter was so noisy that we hardly could talk together. Consequently, we wrote notes to each other, and this was how the idea of bringing a Lithuanian platoon to the Danish Battalion in Croatia [on a peacekeeping UN mission, ed.] was born – this was a huge leap forward.” Further details about the Helicopter Deal and the Danish‑Lithuanian military cooperation within the international operation in Croatia are provided in Chapter 9 by former Minister of National Defence Linas Linkevičius. FIRST NATO ARMY UNIT ON LITHUANIAN TERRITORY In order to fulfil the ambition of the “Helicopter Agreement” and to solve his third and last main task, Danish Defence Attaché Barløse initiated the 136

preparations of the deployment of a Danish infantry platoon to Lithuania. Originally, the task of the platoon was to visit different training areas in Lithuania to assess whether they could be used for future common training. However, this site survey was done earlier same year, and the military training complex in Rukla was the chosen location. The planning and execution of the deployment was completed by Bornholms Værn (Defence Force of Bornholm). The deployed Danish units consisted of the infantry platoon, which would later deploy to Croatia; a training support platoon consisting of soldiers with UN experience from previous deployments to Croatia; and a headquarters platoon that would support the stay in Rukla. In total, there were 87 soldiers, sergeants and officers. The deployment itself was conducted by sea and air: On the 16th of July 1994, the chartered French ship Cap Ferrat left Rønne with two armoured personnel carriers, 11 MAN trucks and six Gelände Wagen, equipment, ammunition, and 12 soldiers on board. The ship was met the following day in Klaipeda harbour by the departing Danish Defence Attaché Barløse, who had ended his accreditation to Lithuania on 30 June, but stayed on for a few weeks in order to help the incoming attaché getting settled in Estonia and Latvia before coming to Lithuania. He described the arrival this way: “I was standing on one of the many quays in Klaipeda Harbour seeing a ferry‑look‑alike ship docking. The armoured personnel carriers disembarked via the ferry’s ramp and were loaded onto two locally rented flatbed trucks. This was the first time a regular NATO Army unit arrived in Lithuania. Consequently, the event was under heavy media coverage. The military column departed and on its way to Rukla Training Area it took a detour to pass through the city of Kaunas where a display of the Danish vehicles was organised for the amazed citizens. Obviously, the organisers wanted the people to see that there was a (small) friendly NATO unit in Lithuania for military purposes.” On 17 July, a Royal Danish Air Force C‑130 Hercules airplane with 75 soldiers departed from Rønne Airport. The airplane with the personnel attracted less attention than the military vehicles, but was welcomed at Karmelava military airport, near Kaunas, by the new incoming Danish Defence Attaché, Colonel Michael H. Clemmesen, who de facto took over the duties in Lithuania from Carsten Barløse on 21 July 1994. CHAPTER 7

137

Photoshoot of Lithuanian troops with Defence Minister Linkevičius before leaving for Denmark and then the joint mission in Croatia. Karmelava Airport, Kaunas, on 1 August 1994.8

The Danish unit was assembled in Rukla Training Area, where they joined the 32 Lithuanian soldiers designated for the first international Lithuanian Platoon (LITPLA1). All the Lithuanians were handpicked and the majority of positions within the platoon – including the ones designated for privates – were manned with a mix of regular officers and non‑commissioned officers. The idea was to give as many officers and non‑commissioned officers as possible international experience that they could bring home and utilise in future training.8 The aim of the Danish units’ 14‑day stay in Rukla was to conduct basic UN training routines, e.g. observation post and control post duties. After the basic training, on the 1 August 1994, the Lithuanian platoon and the Danish soldiers flew to Rønne, Bornholm, where the Danes from the training support platoon and the headquarters platoon disembarked. After this short stay, the Hercules plane continued to Roskilde Airport, from which the soldiers were transported to Antvorskov Barracks in Slagelse. Here, Sjællandske Livregiment (Zealand Life Regiment) was responsible for the final mission‑specific UN training before the Lithuanian unit was ready for deployment to Croatia. The joint Danish‑Lithuanian unit deployed to Croatia on 22 August 1994. This was the first time Lithuania had participated in an international operation, and it indeed marked a critical milestone in the development of the Lithuanian Army. The course was set for Lithuania’s defence forces soon becoming an internationally reliable military partner that could be fully integrated into the European – and transatlantic – system of defence, as was the aim already expressed in 1991. 138

FIRST ENGAGEMENT – MISSION COMPLETED – NEXT TARGET The initial bilateral military cooperation between Denmark and Lithuania from 1991 to 1994 was clearly developed due to a political desire on both sides. In the beginning, the military cooperation had problems, some of which were at a very practical level, such as a lack of common language skills. Others concerned the vast cultural and conceptual differences related to key notions such as democracy and planning. It could, however, hardly come as a surprise to anyone that challenges would arise along the way, especially in the very first engagements, since the Danish and Lithuanian military staffs came from completely different systems. Of course, this would create situations of lacking understanding and accord, but it never created so big gaps between the Danish and Lithuanian sides that they could not be bridged. Most importantly, these initial problems were all effectively overcome due to a dedicated will from both sides to make the cooperation work. This strong will, though, was at first primarily found at the political level. The two countries’ military organizations were not the ones pushing the cooperation and engagement forward, since many among the Lithuanian forces were hesitant about the alien Danish principles and methods, and in the Danish forces, many feared the level of problems and expenses it could create. As Major General Zenkevičius put it: “We really need to be thankful to our ministers at the political level at that time because they put pressure on the administrative systems to engage in this cooperation and adopt approaches, etc. This was true for both the Danish and Lithuanian side. If they had not decided this politically, the militaries would have too many reservations to engage in such close cooperation. Without the political vision and force, it would never have happened.” The Lithuanian political leaders, including General Director Butkevičius and Defence Minister Linkevičius, knew that the security situation in the region was still fragile, and that the country could easily experience setbacks in the continued process of moving away from Russia and gaining independence. And they knew that the best way to avoid this was by intensifying cooperation and interaction with Western countries such as Denmark, particularly in the military field. CHAPTER 7

139

In Denmark, it was first on the political‑diplomatic level that the engagement was advanced, in an effort led by the committed and enthusiastic Foreign Minister Uffe Ellemann‑Jensen. He had the same understanding as many of the same circumstances as the Lithuanian (and Latvian and Estonian) leaders and thus he wanted to promote a comprehensive engagement with the Baltic States. When power shifted in Denmark in 1993 and a new government took office, it was through the work of the defence ministry, with Defence Minister Hans Hækkerup in the lead, that the cooperation with and support to Lithuania really progressed. With Hækkerup and Linkevičius as decisive defence ministers, Denmark and Lithuania were able to turn the cooperation into more concrete and tangible projects. In this way, Denmark became – with the full and active support of the Lithuanian government – an early defence policy and organization mentor or counsellor for the Lithuanian armed forces. The Danish soldiers and officers were able to initiate and speed up the educational transformation of the Lithuanian forces that was necessary in order for Lithuania to become a member of NATO. Simply put, Denmark could teach Lithuania how to live up to NATO standards, which are just as much about how you organize, command, and look at things as they are about practical skillsets. From a Lithuanian perspective, this was Denmark’s true principal contribution to Lithuania’s military, as NATO membership quickly became the country’s chief target. At the same time, Lithuanian forces were able to identify with their Danish counterparts because both countries were small and dependent on being part of a committed international security community. In the following years, the nature of the Danish‑Lithuanian projects developed from sporadic activities focusing on train‑the‑trainer and establishing the framework for future cooperation into thoroughly planned and executed projects. These included, among others, the implementation of Armoured Personnel Carrier M113 into the Iron Wolf Brigade, support to the Lithuanian Medical Training Centre, the Lithuanian Battalion Project, the Lithuanian Brigade Project, and the Lithuanian Artillery Project, many of which are described in other chapters of this book. Additionally, these were followed by multiple joint international operations in Croatia, Bosnia, Iraq, and Afghanistan. The joint deployment in 1994 provided important lessons for the 140

Lithuanian Army in particular, and showed to the world that Lithuania was eager and able to provide units to help address common security issues. The deployment also meant that the first Danish Defence Attaché, Lieutenant Colonel Carsten Barløse, had fulfilled his three main tasks – the First Engagements. As mentioned earlier, he was followed by Colonel Michael H. Clemmesen, who, unlike Barløse, was accredited to Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania. From his hub in Riga, he could supervise and elevate not only the Danish‑Lithuanian, but also Danish‑Baltic military cooperation to the next level, multiplying the number of activities with an increased focus on Baltic cooperation that facilitated membership of NATO for all Baltic States in 2004. In that way, the initial military cooperation that started as dispersed projects very quickly expanded and merged into one consistent lasting pattern of a trusting and fruitful partnership. Congratulations on the first 30 years of military cooperation to all defence and security communities in Denmark and Lithuania – let us never forget the strong political will for partnership that established it. CLOSING REMARKS: To help us go back in time, we have been in contact with a number of people who were either there at the time and played key roles or who have helped us dig into relevant archives. Without their assistance, we would never had been able to write this chapter in its final elaborative form and hence, we are very grateful for the help we have received. Special thanks goes to Carsten Barløse, the first Danish Defence Attaché in Lithuania, and Gintautas Zenkevičius, formerly responsible in the Lithuanian Home Guard for the cooperation with Denmark, with whom we have conducted in‑depth interviews about their experiences and impressions from the time in question. Their direct quotes in the above are from these interviews. The cited paragraphs originally from Danish articles have been translated by the authors, and the responsibility for any inaccuracies in these, as for any other errors in this chapter, are the authors’ alone. Also, the views expressed in this chapter solely reflect the private opinions the authors and do in no way express official Danish security or defence policy. CHAPTER 7

141

Thanks to:

Major (R. Jens Andersen, Bornholms Værn, Company Commander 1994. Lieutenant Colonel (R. Carsten Barløse, Defence Attaché 1992‑1994. H.E. Audrius Butkevičius, General Director of the Lithuanian Department of National Defence/Minister of National Defence 1990‑1993. Brigadier General (R. Michael H. Clemmesen, Defence Attaché 1994‑1997. Mr. Sakalas Gorodeckis, International Cooperation, Ministry of National Defence in the 1990’s. H.E. Linas Linkevičius, Minister of National Defence 1993‑1996 and 2000‑2004. Colonel (R. Jurgis Norgėla, Member of the Publications Approval Commission of the Ministry of National Defence 2021. Captain Asta Žalalytė, Chief Officer of Public Relations’ Division. Ministry of National Defence 2021. Major General (R. Gintautas Zenkevičius, Deputy Chief and Chief of Volunteer Commanders’ Training Centre 1996‑1999.

142

CHAPTER 8

THE HELICOPTER AGREEMENT AND THE BEGINNING OF INTENSE DANISH-LITHUANIAN MILITARY COOPERATION By Linas Linkevičius, fmr. Minister of Foreign Affairs of Lithuania (2012-2020) Linas Linkevičius, Minister of Defence of Lithuania in the early 1990s, tells the story of how the iconic “Helicopter Agreement” was informally agreed upon between himself and the Danish Minister of Defence Hans Hækkerup, leading to the joint Danish-Lithuanian UN peacekeeping mission to Croatia in 1994.

The dawn of Lithuania’s independence was an amazing period characterised by the concentration, strong faith, enthusiasm and determination of ordinary people to achieve the goal, despite – to put it mildly – an unfavourable international situation and open skepticism from our future allies. We received no encouragement from the outside world, but rather calls “not to make waves, not to disturb Gorbachev”. After the adoption of the Act of the Re‑Establishment of the State of Lithuania March 11, 1990, the world was in no hurry to acknowledge the reestablishment of our independence. The first in the world to do so on 11 February 1991 was Iceland, followed by the second country Denmark on 28 February. I remember back in 2000, some future allies said straight out: “Your country is exciting and your struggle for freedom is truly impressive, but you will never become a member of NATO.” It was made very clear that everything was due to the Russian factor. That is why it is CHAPTER 8

143

On‑board the noisy Mi‑8 helicopter before or after making the “Helicopter Agreement”. 7‑11 March 1994.107

so precious to remember those who did not hesitate to support us at a time when few believed in our success. In 1993, at the age of 32, I was appointed Minister of National Defense of Lithuania. The army was still in its infancy. There was a lot of enthusiasm, but there was a lack of all other experience and funds. Despite the discouragements mentioned for the prospect of NATO membership, we never doubted our success. I am most grateful to those who helped at the time and who also believed in our capacity. We established very close and friendly relations with Danish Minister of Defense Hans Hækkerup. He liked to say: “Membership of the Baltic States in NATO is my personal goal.” It was thanks to H. Hækkerup that Denmark became our closest partner during these years, and under Danish leadership, the most ambitious international development projects of the Lithuanian Armed Forces were launched. The most famous of them is the BALTBAT ground forces training project, launched in 1994 (read more in Chapter 9 and 10). 1 It was not the only one, however. The most memorable was the beginning of Lithuania’s participation in the international peacekeeping 144

force. The same year, in 1994, Minister H. Hækkerup paid a visit to Vilnius. According to the program, we planned to fly to Klaipeda by helicopter, to visit the Lithuanian Navy ships. The Soviet‑made MI‑8 helicopter was not adapted for passenger transport, had no special amenities, and was quite noisy in the cabin. It was difficult to talk, so we decided to correspond in writing. I remember writing on a leaflet: “How would you like the idea if our troops were part of your unit in the UNPROFOR mission in the former Yugoslavia?” Hans wrote in the affirmative. Then I wrote on the top of that “document” the title “Agreement” and signed at the bottom. Hans smiled and signed too. When we landed at the airport, we showed this agreement to our advisors. The Danish Ambassador at the time, Per Carlsen did not show much enthusiasm, saying ironically to his minister: “You will not fly anywhere alone, any longer.” I should also point out that the friendship and cooperation between Hans Hækkerup and myself dates back to 1992, when we met in the NATO Parliamentary Assembly. I was leading our parliamentary delegation at the time. At that meeting, we were going to adopt a resolution in which I had prepared an addendum on support for the integration of the Baltic States in NATO. Hans was chairman of the Danish Parliament’s Defense Committee at the time, and was very helpful to me in editing the text. This was my first “success” on the diplomatic front – the amendment to the resolution was voted on favourably. In general, it is difficult to overestimate the support that our Danish friends gave at that time, especially in the area of military cooperation. We could not really realise back then that this was important not only – and not so much – in practice, but especially in politics. The Danes took a significant risk in accepting inexperienced Lithuanian soldiers on the dangerous mission to Croatia, but they took responsibility. UNPROFOR was a peacekeeping operation, and therefore not military in the most common sense, but many probably remember how dangerous it was. We also failed to gain immediate support in our parliament, as many international military missions were associated with an unforgettable war in Afghanistan, to which Lithuanians serving in the Soviet Army were sent far from voluntarily, and from which many did not return or CHAPTER 8

145

returned crippled. Following an agreement in principle on the deployment of troops, the legal framework still needed to be put in place. Soldiers simply had no right to go abroad with weapons, either for operations or for training purposes. There was an urgent need to draft a law, which I did as a member of the Seimas, but there were many doubts among some politicians as well. It helped a lot that I was politically supported by President A. Brazauskas and finally, after the adoption of the law, we were able to select soldiers and send them to training. The selection began in April, and Colonel Jonas Gečas was appointed to lead it. Assessing all sensitivities, we selected soldiers exclusively on a voluntary basis. Nearly 250 soldiers expressed a desire to participate. Then we realised that their mission was extremely important not only in the literal sense, but also important for the future of Lithuania’s military in accumulating experience. Although UNPROFOR was not related to NATO, the troops were trained for the mission as part of the NATO force. Therefore, this was the first step in the practical integration of our troops into NATO forces. We had some instructors and hoped to train some of their future colleagues, so we selected soldiers with more experience. After intensive talks and preparations, 32 soldiers were selected, and Captain Artūras Chrapko was appointed platoon commander. The challenge was huge. The soldiers’ English language skills were very poor. One can only imagine what an impression, and maybe even a shock, the whole situation had on the Danish instructors, who were living in a slightly repaired former Soviet barracks in the military town of Rukla, training in a poorly adapted training ground. Still, the soldiers were trained to use equipment and weapons used in the Danish army. On 1 August, the first platoon of the Lithuanian Armed Forces’ international operation, LITPLA‑1, was solemnly escorted to additional training in the Zealand Life Regiment in Slagelse, Denmark, and on 22 August, they went from there on a mission to Croatia. It was a start, but the collaboration continued. In 1996, a United Nations mandate was given to NATO, and our troops, along with the Danes, continued to participate in the IFOR mission in Bosnia. On this mission, we experienced our first loss as well. On 17 April 1996, Senior Lieutenant Normundas Valteris and his Danish counterpart Sergeant Arne Andersen were killed during a car patrol in Bosnia. 146

In general, after all these experiences, Denmark has become a much closer partner. And now, if I see a soldier wearing a Danish uniform somewhere or I see a Danish flag, I do not feel that it is something foreign. This close cooperation with the Danes undoubtedly served as the beginning of very important multilateral military cooperation projects, which later became a model for other states. At that time, the Lithuanian army, which was still developing, received a lot of help from many countries. We were offered various practical and material means of support. However, it turned out that we had about 90 types of vehicles in the army, which made it practically impossible to ensure their maintenance and service. All three Baltic countries, Lithuania, Latvia and Estonia, faced very similar challenges. We realised that we had to coordinate our activities and our needs. Eventually, trilateral cooperation became so close that it has even overshadowed bilateral contacts. We were meeting exclusively in the trilateral format as three ministers or the commanders of the armies. It became no less clear that donors also had to coordinate. In April 1994, the BALTBAT project started. The Nordic ministers signed a memorandum of understanding to support the Baltic States in setting up a peacekeeping unit. The coordination work took place in Copenhagen. In this way, Denmark was the first to take responsibility for coordinating multilateral aid to the Baltic States. Later, other similar projects were born: BALTNET – in the field of airspace control – was coordinated by Norway. The BALTRON naval cooperation project was coordinated by Germany. Denmark was also the first to lay the foundations for the BALTDEFCOL training project, and Denmark helped to establish the Baltic Defense College in Tartu, Estonia. General Michael Clemmesen, our great friend and assistant, became the first commandant of the college. It is very important to note that these multilateral cooperation projects, born in 1994‑1996, remain relevant even now, when the three Baltic States are already operating as full allies in NATO. In other words, all the investments paid off. And Denmark was one of the biggest and most important contributors and initiators.

CHAPTER 8

147

CHAPTER 9

DENMARK AND LITHUANIA: BILATERAL MILITARY COOPERATION 1992-2004 By Prof. Niels Bo Poulsen, Director at the Institute for Strategy and War Studies at the Royal Danish Defence College, and Steen Bornholdt Andersen, Senior Researcher at the Institute for Strategy and War Studies at the Royal Danish Defence College Niels Bo Poulsen and Steen Bornholdt Andersen, both former diplomats at the Danish embassy in Vilnius, present the evolution of DanishLithuanian military cooperation from the first bilateral agreement until the day Lithuania became a NATO member state.

THE START OF SOMETHING NEW When the Warsaw Pact was dissolved and the Soviet Union disintegrated into new independent countries in the early 1990s, Europe’s political geography and security landscape changed significantly. Like the two other Baltic States, Lithuania again became a sovereign nation. Denmark experienced significant changes too. With the collapse of the Soviet Union and the dissolution of the Warsaw Pact, Denmark ceased to be a frontline state in NATO, and the Baltic Sea region emerged as an area for cooperation rather than conflict. This article will present the evolution of Danish‑Lithuanian military cooperation between 1994 and 2004 – i.e. from the first bilateral agreement on military cooperation until Lithuania became a NATO member state. Other articles in this book will cover related topics, such as the first steps towards military cooperation, Denmark’s overall CHAPTER 9

149

policy of assisting Lithuania in becoming a NATO member and the Lithuanian commitment to contribute to peacekeeping operations. The intent of the present text is to depict how military assistance within a 10‑year period accelerated from military first aid into mutual military cooperation between two member states of the North Atlantic Treaty Organization. It is important to stress that although the article draws on a range of written documents, it is also based upon the personal experience of its authors, as they were both posted to the Danish embassy in Lithuania during the period in question. In addition, the authors are aware that the text may be biased towards the Danish perspective on the subject, as no Lithuanian sources have been consulted. In 1991, there was little that made Lithuania stand out from a Danish perspective. From a geopolitical, social, economic and cultural point of view, Lithuania was no more important to Denmark than the other Baltic States and, purely in terms of size, the small states on the eastern shoreline of the Baltic Sea were dwarfed by Poland and other large post‑Communist states. The next decade nevertheless saw a blossoming Danish‑Lithuanian relationship which in many respects stood apart from anything else experienced in Denmark’s relations to other post‑Communist states. By the late 1990s, Denmark was a leading investor in Lithuania, one of its biggest trading partners, and a staunch proponent of EU and NATO membership. In addition, it rendered considerable financial and technical support to Lithuania for capacity building in the military sphere. If one adds numerous ministerial visits in both directions, it becomes clear that the military cooperation was embedded in a bilateral relationship that evolved very quickly during the first decade of Lithuanian independence. Simultaneously with the radical changes around the Baltic Sea, the situation also changed in the Balkans, but in a different direction. The civil war and eventual genocide in the former Yugoslavia necessitated the use of military forces in a way unseen in Europe since 1945. Initially, the international community pinned its hopes of stopping the violence on the United Nations, yet, like those in in many other European countries, many political parties in Denmark were highly reluctant to make a commitment with respect to troop contributions in order to enforce the peace. After the United Nations’ initial efforts had failed, a more robust approach was applied, including NATO airstrikes, and 150

only then were tangible results achieved. Hence, the 1990s not only led to lower defence budgets in Denmark, it was also a decade that demonstrated the continued need for NATO, and it gradually changed Danish strategic culture in the direction of a higher willingness to the use of armed force. This development was the backdrop for the military cooperation between Denmark and Lithuania. At the beginning of the period studied in this text, Denmark was solidly embedded in NATO, and simultaneously highly hesitant about the utility of using armed force as a means to resolve conflict elsewhere. This was due to the absence of a tangible treat, other than instability stemming from weak and failed states on the periphery of Europe. In Lithuania, the picture was different. When Lithuania regained its independence, the country had scarcely any defence structures, but there was broad political consensus behind establishing a credible defence force as fast as possible and, by and large, there was also a general and joint national perception of the likely threat – Russian attempts to impose a hegemony on its so‑called near abroad, i.e. the post‑Soviet space. THE ROAD TOWARDS COOPERATION IN THE MILITARY SPHERE, 1992‑94 While significant parts of the Danish cultural and political elite had already set their sights on assisting the Baltic countries around 1988/89, cooperation in the field of security and defence politics was not in the cards at this early stage. On the contrary, among many politicians and civil servants in the relevant ministries, such as the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, there was still considerable fear of contributing to a democratic backlash in Russia by too‑assertive behaviour vis‑à‑vis its former empire. After some informal overtures, in 1992, the two nations entered their first bilateral military arrangements. Lithuania had requested assistance in the form of military hardware; however, the political climate in Denmark was not ready for this step, so the Danish response was to donate uniforms and medical equipment. From a Danish perspective, the initial steps were designed to be cautious, yet visible. The prospects of cooperation in the military field were significantly CHAPTER 9

151

boosted when NATO member states endorsed the Partnership for Peace (PfP) in January 1994. This NATO initiative was a collective invitation to all member states of the Commission on Security and Cooperation in Europe (CSCE) to enter into closer cooperation with NATO in five main areas: • • • • •

democratic control of armed forces; transparency in defence planning and budgeting; development of peacekeeping capabilities; cooperation with NATO; and development of interoperability with NATO military structures.

The PfP provided a framework for bilateral activities under the auspices of a recognised regional organisation and the United Nations charter. It proved to be an important vehicle for the Danish politicians because at this point in time, Denmark (as well as other Nordic countries) had come to the conclusion that strengthening the Baltic countries’ self‑defence capabilities would eventually be a significant contributor to regional stability, and thus also contribute to Danish security. While no exact date can be assigned to the start of the Danish political establishment planning for an end state in which the Baltic States had become NATO members, this vision seems to have emerged shortly after the Clinton administration declared, in January 1994, that NATO was open for new members from the former Warsaw Pact. While American policy at that point did not extend to Baltic States, Denmark became an early and persistent voice in support of Lithuanian (as well as Estonian and Latvian) membership in NATO. MILITARY COOPERATION AGREEMENT AND THE POSTING OF A DEFENCE ATTACHÉ For both Denmark and Lithuania, 1994 became a landmark in terms of bilateral military cooperation. Shortly after the endorsement of the PfP initiative, on 11 March 1994, the two governments signed

152

Signing of the first bilateral military cooperation agreement by the two ministers of defence. 11 March 1994, Vilnius.1

their first formal military cooperation agreement. The agreement established the platform for deepening and widening the hitherto ad hoc military cooperation. After the two nations signed the agreement, Denmark posted the first Danish defence attaché to Vilnius, and this opened for immediate and direct links between the armed forces of the two countries. The first Danish defence attaché was Colonel Michael H. Clemmesen. He held accreditations in all three Baltic countries and was stationed in Riga. Thanks to extensive travelling, Colonel Clemmesen soon obtained a wide network of personal contacts, which was paramount in creating trust and generating ideas. He later claimed that during the first year, he spent two months in Riga, two months in Tallinn, two months in Vilnius and six months in his car travelling between ministries, headquarters and garrisons spread over the three states. The posting of a defence attaché was also essential in providing the relevant authorities in Denmark with the necessary inroad into Lithuanian political and military affairs. Among the many tasks Colonel Clemmesen took upon himself was to accelerate considerations by Denmark about acting as a military donor. At the same time, he (and Denmark) acted as a facilitator for the entry of the Lithuanian armed forces into the international scene.1 The fact that the Danish defence attaché was representing the Danish Ministry of Defence in Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania gave Denmark parallel insight into the three countries´ military aspirations, their challenges and the diverse ways in which they progressed with the building up of their armed forces. Colonel Clemmesen’s work involved

CHAPTER 9

153

identifying options for the individual countries, but also combined support of cross‑Baltic endeavours, where relevant, and he personally became a strong advocate for regional Baltic military cooperation. This was, for good reasons, also an area of interest to the three states themselves, and 1994 gave birth to a number of joint Baltic military structures that were intended to foster interoperability with NATO and function as practical vehicles for building up and modernising the armed forces of the three Baltic countries. The first such multilateral project was the Baltic Battalion – BALTBAT – with a combined Headquarters and Headquarters Company in Riga and one infantry company each stationed in Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania, respectively. Other projects were executed as well: The Baltic Naval Squadron – BALTRON – was inaugurated in 1998 as a common mine‑counter‑measure formation. At the same time, the Baltic Air Surveillance Network – BALTNET – was created: a common air space radar network that today is incorporated into NATO´s force structures. 1998 also was the year when the Baltic Defence College – BALTDEFCOL – was established. BALTDEFCOL was a joint combined military training and research facility with a multinational faculty and students from a number of nations, in addition to a core of students from the three Baltic countries. * While representing a tremendous effort by the Baltic States themselves, the birth of these structures was greatly aided by the existence of a coalition of supporting nations. Denmark took a leading role in the international engagement and willingly allocated resources to the Baltic projects. 1994 also became the year for the first of several successive Lithuanian deployments of a tactical unit – a platoon – to participate in an international peacekeeping mission. Said platoon was embedded in a Danish battalion to Croatia, as were its successors.** Another article covers the details of this hugely important event. In the present context, however, it is important to stress that these deployments and the associated

The Danish Defence Attaché, Colonel (later Brigadier General) Michael Clemmesen was seconded to the BALTIC Defence College as its first commandant.

The first platoon deployed on 22 August 1994.

154

training established strong bonds between the armies of Denmark and Lithuania. On top of that, the commitment of Lithuanian troops to peacekeeping in Croatia demonstrated the country’s political will and military capability to contribute to the UN in an area that was highly important for European security, and this was widely recognised by the international community. The Danish Ministry of Defence considered both the Baltic common military projects and the participation of Lithuanian soldiers in peacekeeping operations as successful and politically useful because these activities demonstrated that Lithuania was emerging as a trustworthy partner for NATO and, simultaneously, underpinned the development of the Lithuanian forces. The training and deployment activities also increased the number of contacts on all levels between the two countries’ armed forces. Gradually, as time passed and experiences from peacekeeping missions followed the Lithuanian and Danish soldiers back to their home garrisons, new and more focused requirements started to shape the bilateral cooperation. The successes from the deployments of Lithuanian platoons to Croatia and the rapid development of the Baltic projects increasingly put the early bilateral arrangements under pressure. From early on, Denmark had allocated seats in a number of courses in Danish military schools to the Lithuanian military and also offered basic officers training at the services’ academies. The core of the bilateral activities was, however, based upon brief exchanges of personnel up to platoon size between Danish regiments and Lithuanian battalions. These ‘visits’ often had an exploratory nature, and the actual outcomes of such exchanges varied. The activities and the subjects that were addressed during the exchanges differed from unit to unit and very much depended on the local commanders’ interests and priorities – in Denmark as well as in Lithuania. However, gradually, veteran peacekeepers and personnel from BALTBAT and the associated Lithuanian company began sharing experiences based on mutual and army‑wide understandings of the military profession. The Danish defence attaché in Vilnius was among the first to note that the bilateral cooperation was ripe for an expansion beyond social contacts. Instead, he recommended initiating fact‑finding missions aimed at identifying areas that could support tactical and training capabilities on the army level rather than the local unit level. CHAPTER 9

155

The PfP had a built‑in Planning and Review Process (PARP), and this proved to be a handy tool in the process of identifying new areas for cooperation. In essence, PARP was a copy of the Defence Review Process that guided the development of NATO members’ military capabilities. In the PARP process that was introduced in 1994, NATO would identify and review partner nations’ military capabilities. This process had the potential of spearheading the transformation of the Lithuanian forces towards NATO interoperability, because the force contribution Lithuania offered would be evaluated by NATO standards. In this way, the planning process gave partnership nations a flavour of NATO mechanisms and served as an introduction to the military and security obligations in the Alliance. Thus, the PfP also became a tool for paving the way for the membership in NATO that both Lithuania and Denmark targeted. By aligning the Danish Lithuanian bilateral cooperation with the PARB process, it became possible to have a dialogue about capacity building at an institutional level, rather than relying primarily on the exchange of individuals and small groups. LITHUANIA TAKES THE REINS Until the mid‑90s, the development of the Lithuanian armed forces in terms of acquiring military hardware was very much dependent on donations of whatever donors had available. Given the Lithuanian armed forces had to be built almost from scratch, this approach, while not optimal, was unavoidable. Most equipment was former Soviet equipment that individual commanders had laid their hands on during the early days of independence and in the mid‑90s. This was mixed with a wide variety of donated equipment and vehicles from Scandinavian countries and from Western Europe. In addition, the vast majority of the barracks were in a poor condition in terms of accommodation, workshops and storage facilities. Consequently, by the mid‑90s, the Lithuanian force structure was a logistical and training nightmare, and the Lithuanian political and military leadership became increasingly aware that the almost accidental build‑up of the armed forces had serious deficiencies. It also turned out that Lithuanian military personnel with sufficient English skills were a very scarce resource. 156

All these factors, in combination with an almost overwhelming number of donor‑sponsored activities, created bottlenecks and prevented the Lithuanian recipients from enhancing the input they received and from developing a comprehensive and consolidated approach to how the armed forces should grow. In short, the Lithuanian armed forces had come to suffer from initiative overload!2 The Lithuanian defence authorities, as well as partner countries such as Denmark, became increasingly aware of the adverse effects of the early support. In 1997, as a reaction to the problem, Denmark offered to carry out a study of possible defence concepts and plans that could eventually assist Lithuania in its prioritisation and development of an adequate force structure, given the country’s considerable economical constraints. Almost at the same time, the United States initiated a similar study called the Kievenaar study. Major General Kievenaar´s team was tasked with addressing the need for military reforms in all post‑Communist countries in eastern and central Europe, including recommendations for Lithuania to consider. The Danish study recommended a two‑phased development concept for the Lithuanian armed forces, beginning with a build‑up of basic military capacity in order to assert sovereignty. This was intended to be based on a decentralised, low‑technology territorial defence structure relying on a conscription system. The study also recommended limiting the amount of infrastructure as much as possible in order to save (and reallocate) resources. At a later stage, when the economic condition of the country allowed it, it was envisaged in the study, that Lithuania could move towards a more ambitious defence model: A bridgehead defence that built up the armed forces’ capability to defend and hold essential terrain and the ability to secure facilities for receiving military reinforcements from outside the theatre. The Danish study also recommended that Lithuania not stake all its cards on territorial defence, but maintain a capability to contribute to international (peacekeeping/enforcing) operations, and that Lithuania continued to pursue military cooperation with Latvia and Estonia. The Danish study – entitled Defence Concepts and Plans: a discussion paper – was formally handed over by the Danish Minister of Defence, Hans Hækkerup, to his Lithuanian counterpart, Česlovas Stankevičius, at the Nordic‑Baltic‑US Minister of Defence meeting in Copenhagen on 13 July 1998. CHAPTER 9

157

The American Kievenaar study was, in essence, a baseline assessment that focused on the East and Central European states’ need to develop and reform their defence plans to become realistic, both politically and economically. The study underlined the need to work out realistic and detailed implementation plans. Likewise, the American study included quite tangible recommendations in a range of specific areas. Amongst those were recommendations to ensure public support for the Lithuanian armed forces and the need to improve mobilisation plans. The Kievenaar study also emphasised that the quality‑of‑life issues of the Lithuanian armed forces should be promptly addressed (salary, pensions, health insurance, accommodation, etc.). Both studies were based upon risk analyses and had a number of commonalities. The main difference was that the Kievenaar study gave quite specific recommendations on what Lithuania ought to do (i.e. actions) while the Danish study focused on where Lithuania could go (i.e. objectives). The Danish study was well received by the Lithuanian MoD Plans & Policy department and by the Defence Staff Operations Branch3. From Danish side, it was expected that there would be a request for a follow‑on study to cover additional aspects, such as hostile infiltration and low intensity warfare. In addition, there was Lithuanian interest (on the staff officer level) in looking at various aspects of crisis management and coming up with suggestions on how to remedy the lack of a Lithuanian concept for public cross‑sector coordination and the survival of state and public functions in times of crisis and war. It therefore came as a considerable surprise to the Danish authorities when, at the end of December 1999, the Lithuanian minister of defence acknowledged the Danish study in a letter, yet indicated that there would be no need for the next phase.4 As far as could be judged from the outside, the discontinuation of the Danish assistance in this area was a consequence of internal disagreement within the Lithuanian Ministry of Defence and the Lithuanian Defence Staff. Eventually, the then Vice Minister (later Chief of Defence) Jonas Kronkaitis and the Lithuanian Ministry of Defence decided to follow the recommendations put forward in the Kievenaar study5 – a decision which essentially made continued Danish assistance concerning the overall conceptualisation of the Lithuanian defence force irrelevant. This development should be viewed in relation to an almost parallel development headed by Vice Minister Jonas Kronkaitis which aimed at 158

achieving greater political and fiscal control over the armed forces. In order to achieve this objective, a defence planning process was adopted in 1999 that launched a 10‑year sketch plan and a 3‑year implementation plan, covering the years 2000‑2003. This development was to a large extent based upon the recommendations in the Kievenaar study and facilitated by Vice Minister Jonas Kronkaitis’ own military experiences from a long career in the United States Army. FOCUS ON PARTNERSHIP AND INTEGRATION By the end 1997/the beginning of 1998, there were other challenges to the bilateral cooperation than the above‑mentioned (and slightly later) case of the two competing studies. On the Danish side, a certain disappointment emerged that the training programme that Denmark provided to the Lithuanian armed forces failed to improve Lithuanian military capabilities in a manner proportionate to the effort put into the work. From a Danish point of view, too many already scheduled activities were eventually cancelled because Lithuania was unable to provide students. A sentiment spread amongst the Danish cooperation coordinators that the numerous small activities initiated and hosted by Denmark should gradually be replaced by more comprehensive projects based on partnership and shared responsibilities. In parallel to the Danish shift in policy, Denmark also divided the defence attaché office in Riga into three separate offices. A new defence attaché was thus appointed to the embassy in Vilnius in the summer of 1997 to focus on bilateral cooperation. At this stage, from a Danish perspective, the Lithuanian armed forces did not command a mechanism that ensured that already trained personnel was placed (and kept) in positions where the acquired knowledge and proficiencies could be fully exploited and spread further. Thus, Denmark – and other donors – were just training individuals. Once these individuals left their position, their skills were lost, at least from an institutional perspective. The net result was that corporate knowledge and new capacities were not built up to the extent one could hope for. While, as mentioned above, the discontinuation of the Danish study on the development of the Lithuanian armed forces was a disappointment, Kronkaitis’ 10‑year development sketch did open up new opportunities for cooperation. The sketch contained clearly prioritised CHAPTER 9

159

objectives, making it possible to base bilateral cooperation on a consistent plan for the direction the Lithuanian armed forces wanted to take. The Kronkaitis plan prioritised development of the Army. The objective was to set up one mobile brigade and three territorial brigades, each assigned to a local defence district. The most visible element in the new Lithuanian plan was the establishment of a strong and centralised Training and Doctrine Command (TRADOC) in Vilnius with responsibility for developing training principles and delivering contemporary and effective military training across the Lithuanian Armed Forces. The military branch schools became subordinated to TRADOC, as did a new initiative – the Basic Training Regiment in Rukla. This entity assumed responsibility for basic military training of all personnel in the Lithuanian Army. While Denmark supported the establishment of TRADOC as such, the Danish armed forces still had some concerns about the establishment of the Basic Training Regiment. These were voiced during an informal dinner meeting hosted by the Lithuanian Minister of Defence Stankevičius and Vice Minister Kronkaitis on 12 February 1999. Despite the fact that the Danish Ambassador, Per Carlsen, had to inform Lithuania that a Lithuanian request for the donation of a Danish minesweeper – HMDS Grønsund – had been declined due to the age and technical condition of the vessel, the dinner resulted in an open and very fruitful discussion of how to develop Danish‑Lithuanian bilateral cooperation in broader terms. During the dinner, the Lithuanian Minister of Defence expressed his recognition of the Danish support for the creation of a coherent Lithuanian military training structure and of the Danish goodwill to consider donations of major military equipment. Moreover, while the Danish decision to abort further work on donating the ageing mine‑counter vessel was accepted without complaint, the Lithuanian side voiced an interest in the donation of artillery and air defence equipment by Denmark. The parties agreed that the hand‑over of complex systems like fire support required a strong commitment and substantial contribution of resources from both sides in order to ensure the sustainability of the donation. All donations thus required resources for running costs etc. that had to be included in the Lithuanian military budgets. In sum, the bilateral cooperation now focused on a shift from small‑scale activities towards comprehensive and complex projects, 160

demanding considerable coordination. A useful tool in this process was a three‑phased model that TRADOC and the Danish defence attaché jointly developed. Its purpose was to facilitate the shift from training individual Lithuanian soldiers abroad to the development of Lithuania‑based training. When TRADOC and Denmark had agreed on a specific training requirement, the model would be activated in order to implement the training: Phase 1: Selected Lithuanian personnel (specialists and head instructors) would deploy to Denmark to the relevant Danish branch school. Based on existing Danish courses, the Lithuanian specialists and a team of Danish specialists would design a course tailor‑made to Lithuanian needs, in order to ensure that it would meet the Lithuanian tactical and training requirements. The result of Phase 1 would be a complete syllabus, a detailed plan for all lectures, an overview of required resources and time allocation, development and production of basic training material, as well as a budget for all associated costs. Phase 2: The Danish specialist team would deploy to Lithuania for the purpose of assisting in running an initial course for Lithuanian instructors. The Danish specialists would support the Lithuanian team by both instructing and by providing advice as appropriate. The result of Phase 2 would be a hot wash‑up, editing the syllabus, etc., adaptation and production of training material as required. Phase 3: After the pilot project course had been revised and developed into a regular course, a small Danish supervision team would deploy to Lithuania to contribute to the implementation of the first course for Lithuanian regular students. This phase would end with a TRADOC‑led lessons identified process. Both the Danish and the Lithuanian side were pleased with the planning mechanism. Now it was time to establish a procedure to prioritise the many and competing suggestions for training activities. The solution to this problem was partly found when, in April 1999, NATO launched the Membership Action Plan for nations with aspirations for membership in the organisation. During this process, CHAPTER 9

161

Lithuania needed to target and prioritise NATO recommendations, and it was only natural to suggest that the drafting responsibility of the new Danish‑Lithuanian cooperation programme 2000 should to be in Lithuanian hands in order to ensure that the bilateral cooperation was directly linked to the MAP process and Lithuania’s overall objectives for national security. PARTNERS AND PROJECTS By 1998, Denmark was aware that the military progress in Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania had different directions and was going at different speeds. It became increasingly difficult to pool activities to support all three nations within the same activity, as Denmark had often done before. This observation led to internal Danish deliberations to identify military areas and subjects where Denmark in particular could support the development of the Lithuanian defence, both in the short term and in a longer view. The Danish outcome was a Planning Document on Future Cooperation Between Denmark and Lithuania that was presented and discussed during the annual cooperation meeting in Vilnius on 6 October 1999.6 The Danish document included thoughts on training support and building military capacities that were designed to facilitate the Lithuanian MAP process. It also considered the possible donation of equipment and materiel that would be redundant due to Danish force reductions.7 The transformation from what may be termed one‑sided Danish military support to mutual cooperation was eventually put into action when the annual bilateral programme for 2001 was adopted. During a meeting in Copenhagen on 25 October 2000, the Danish and Lithuanian delegations agreed to work with 13 training and capacity building projects that each contained a number of individual activities:* • defence planning, • a medical training centre,

162

In addition to the established projects, there were seven potential projects to be considered for future acceptance by the two nations.

• • • • • • • • • • •

leadership principles, TRADOC, an engineer training centre, combat fire support, a KASP* training centre, LITBAT, peace support operations and deployments, education of naval officers, education of Air Force officers, Minimum Facility Air Base Panevėžys, and search and rescue.

Far from all of these projects were new. Many projects, or at least parts of them, had already existed before fall 2000. The new element was that the cooperation plan grouped individual activities into larger projects and created a framework that facilitated Lithuanian ownership of them. Despite the actions mentioned above, the re‑orientation of cooperation towards large projects was not an easy or straightforward process. It was evident that it made sense to link potential activities in bundles in a manner that ensured that they served a joint, overall objective. It also made sense to stretch activities over several years to avoid overload and ensure enough time for efficient implementation. However, the approval procedure needed to be in accordance with national Lithuanian fiscal procedures, which only allowed fiscal commitments within the current financial year. The cooperation plan had to accommodate this in a flexible manner. There were also technical issues, e.g. the use of military tracked and armoured vehicles on public roads, which was allowed in Denmark, but unclear and not yet regulated in Lithuania. This and other national regulations on public affairs caused delays and resulted in the adaptation of some projects. What worked in Denmark would did not necessarily work in Lithuania and vice versa. The engineer training centre is in many ways a good example of how a host of individual activities was transformed into the new format

Krašto apsaugos savanorių pajėgos (KASP), meaning the Lithuanian National Defence Volunteer Forces

CHAPTER 9

163

to become a project. By 2000, the Danish‑Lithuanian engineers had already taken their cooperation to a very substantial level that included the establishment of a combat engineer school in Kaunas. Together with Danish instructors, the Lithuanian side had established certain basic military capabilities: mining, surface mobility and counter‑mobility, basic construction services (vertical), terrain analysis and NBC survival. However, the 2001 cooperation programme intended to establish yet more capabilities for the Lithuanian combat engineers. First, the cooperation agreement introduced three new capabilities: courses in field fortification, demolition courses and instructors’ courses in demining. In addition, a consultation process was initiated to assist in developing the Lithuanian NBC concept and the prospect of establishing an engineer tactical inspector function. Some projects, such as the search and rescue project, were less relevant to the military, but hugely important due to their civilian implications. In principle, it was a military cooperation project, however, the function – search and rescue – was primarily related to civilian emergencies in the Baltic Sea. The project included the transfer of experience to the Lithuanian flight line, technical support to produce airborne hoists adapted to the Mi‑8 helicopters that Lithuania had in its inventory, and survival kits for the hoist operator and the rescuer performing the actual rescue act. It also included the transfer of procedures if Lithuanian military helicopters had to enter the airspace management zone of another nation around the Baltic Sea in order to bring their patients to the closest hospital. One of the seemingly insignificant details in the project was that it was a cooperation not only between the two air forces, but that it also saw an active contribution by a major Danish private rescue service, Falck. Apart from training the Lithuanian crews in helicopter‑borne stabilising and lifesaving measures, Falck donated a number of lightweight airborne stretchers that would fit into Danish, Swedish and Finnish ambulances as well. For the observer, this may be an indifferent detail, but during a rescue operation, equipment that reduces the transfer time from helicopter to ambulance may be lifesaving. Officers’ education was another area that had a cross‑cutting character. Soon after being posted to the Baltic States, the first Danish Defence Attaché, Colonel Clemmesen, reported that the Lithuanian 164

armed forces continued to be heavily influenced by Soviet military thinking, especially when it came to handling young conscripts. He concluded that officers with a different attitude were essential in order to ensure that the armed forces treated their conscripts like citizens of a democratic society. Denmark offered training slots at all three service academies – Army, Navy and Air Force – for basic officers’ education. Other nations did the same. Thus, officers’ education was not only carried out in Denmark, but also in Sweden, the United Kingdom, Germany, the United States and France, among other places. More than 20 officers of all services received their basic military education in Denmark during the first years of this particular cooperation, and they not only became a valuable asset for the Lithuanian armed forces, but also served as ‘ambassadors’ in the bilateral relationship between the armed forces of the two countries. However, it was not a process without issues, as the Lithuanian Army was quick to terminate the training of officer cadets in Denmark because of a new and British‑supported syllabus at the General Jonas Žemaitis Military Academy of Lithuania. The Navy and the Air Force, which demanded a highly specific technical syllabus, did, however, long after continue to send personnel to Denmark for education and training at the Danish academies. The reason was that the military academy in Vilnius had neither naval nor air force capacity. The annual number of Lithuanian naval officer cadets and students in the lieutenant commanders’ course varied from two to five, while the number for the Air Force Academy was one to two. Training, however, was costly. First, it was necessary that all cadets and students build up sufficient linguistic skills so that they could attend classes. Second, contrary to the other services, the naval officer cadets had no previous military experience and no military skills. Following language training, the naval cadets underwent a basic petty officers’ course and had to go through six months of sailing duty on a Danish naval vessel before they entered the Naval Academy. Consequently, navy cadets would spend around six years in the Danish Navy before they returned to their own navy as officers. They arrived in Denmark as 19‑ to 20‑year‑old cadets and returned to Lithuania as 25‑ to 26‑year‑old officers. This entailed the possibility – or risk – that these officers would adopt a Danish approach of how to function as junior officers, which might potentially cause disciplinary CHAPTER 9

165

issues between officers ‘raised’ abroad and homegrown officers. Yet, the Lithuanian Navy regarded this as a risk worth taking. THE ARTILLERY PROJECT – THE JEWEL IN THE CROWN* In the wake of force reductions in the years after the end of the Cold War, Denmark considered several types of equipment for potential donations. Lithuania was eager to receive equipment that could improve the country’s self‑defence capacity, but also increasingly aware that the running costs eventually would hit the Lithuanian defence hard – not least at a time where the economy was still fragile. As mentioned above, the donation of artillery weapons from Denmark to Lithuania materialised in earnest in 1999, but the idea had already emerged during the summer of 1998 when personnel in the Danish artillery conceptualised the project and the Danish defence attaché in Vilnius made the suggestion to the Danish Defence Staff. It soon turned out that there was a long way to go from having the idea to actually firing the first rounds from a Lithuanian artillery piece since 1940. As soon as the first informal soundings had been made, it became clear that Lithuania was interested, but it also turned out that receiving medium 155mm howitzers which were (and are) the most widely used artillery piece in NATO, was preferable to receiving light artillery such as the vintage M1 105mm howitzers Denmark had in its inventory. In spite of this, the Danish weapon system that dated from the Second World War was still attractive as a tactical fire support system, and such systems were much needed to fulfil Lithuanian plans to field brigades. While in the beginning Lithuania mainly focused on the guns from a self‑defence perspective, the Danish side soon became aware that should there be any tactical value for Lithuania, the transfer of the gun line was, in reality, the smallest part of a more comprehensive donation. The project would have to include equipment for forward observers, fire control *

166

The Lithuanian Ambassador to Denmark, HE Deividas Matulionis, during an office call with the Minister of Defence, Mr. Svend Aage Jensby, in Copenhagen on 16 January 2002.

and gun line data transmission, positioning equipment, meteorological equipment, spare parts (probably life‑time‑buy‑out), ammunition, vehicles for towing the guns as well as for logistic purposes, development of a fire support doctrine and, last but not least, the associated training. On top of this, Lithuania would need to establish and maintain the relevant infrastructure, develop safety arrangements for live firing and select personnel for training. What was in the making was essentially the establishment of artillery as a new branch in the Lithuanian Army, and the project would thus be a major contribution to the country’s self‑defence capacity. Once it had become clear that Lithuania was interested in a joint project, the Danish government initiated political explorations with the parties behind the then existing Danish Defence Agreement. The majority of the parties behind the Defence Agreement had no reservations about such a project. The last party, the Social Liberal Party, only reluctantly accepted a donation of artillery to Lithuania, partly due to internal politics on conflict and the use of weapons, and partly out of concern for Russian reactions.* Another obstacle soon emerged with both political and technical aspects: The guns that Denmark intended to donate originated from the United States’ Weapons Assistance Programme, and had been offered to Denmark in order to build up the Danish armed forces after the Second World War. Formally, the artillery pieces were U.S. property, and a transfer to Lithuania required American acceptance and that the three nations involved sign an end‑user certificate to ensure that the weapons served a purpose that was accepted by all nations. Eventually, on 15 December 1999, Denmark forwarded an official offer to donate an artillery system (105mm towed howitzers) to Lithuania. The Lithuanian response came promptly. The offer was formally accepted on 5 January 2000, and this started the detailed development of the Artillery System Project.** Shortly after, a joint *

Eventually, all four parties voted in favour for the donation when the bill passed Parliament. Only the Socialist People’s Party (Socialistisk Folkeparti) and the Red‑Green Alliance (Enhedslisten) voted against.

The project was promulgated by the Danish Parliament´s Fiscal Committee on 16 May 2001 (72 guns and total additional costs amounting to 64.2 million DKK)

CHAPTER 9

167

Danish‑Lithuanian effort began to take shape, unfolding the project. The main aim was to establish a Lithuanian capacity to build and maintain state of the art artillery expertise in both tactics, operations and logistic matters. The project would establish a training system capable of underpinning the intended level of efficiency. The plan was to field one complete light artillery battalion and a further two minimum operational battalions in four phases plan. The project was designed to guarantee 10 years of operational lifespan. Phase 1 (January 2000‑January 2002) had the objective of creating a common plan for preparation of the project. First, a joint working group was established in order to control and coordinate the project. Next, the two nations began preparations to implement the project in a timely manner. This included Danish procurement of the equipment that should follow the guns, because only guns and vehicles would be surplus equipment from the Danish inventory. All remaining equipment would be state‑of‑the‑art and purchased by Denmark for the project. In Lithuania, construction works and selection of key personnel were initiated, as was Lithuanian procurement of communications equipment that would ensure compatibility with other communications systems in the Lithuanian Army. A project that covered everything from operating the equipment, maintaining it and going to battle with it required considerable documentation in order to ensure correct handling. However, since the guns were American and had been used in the Danish Army, documentation was available in English and Danish only. There was an urgent need to translate tactical field manuals, technical manual, user instructions, etc. The issue was to find capable translators who had linguistic proficiencies in English, Lithuanian and Danish. The translators were found at the University of Vilnius, where a class in Danish was scheduled to graduate in the summer of 2000. The Royal Danish Embassy hired almost the entire class (all but one student) plus two more individuals for the project. One of the first tasks of the new translator team was to attend an intensive artillery course in Denmark where a gun was completely field‑stripped, and each and every item was named in Lithuanian, so

168

that a proper vocabulary could be developed.* The translator team also had duties related to forward fire observation: They conducted gun drill and experienced how the calculations of range were done, etc. This was relatively straightforward for the gun, but a lot of the supporting equipment had not existed in 1940, so there were no Lithuanian expressions for lots of items and the modern fire‑support procedures. The proper terminology essentially had to be developed and eventually approved in Lithuania before it found its place as tactical definitions in the new Lithuanian Fire Support Doctrine. Phase 2 (January 2002‑January 2003) was conducted in Denmark. In this phase, a total of 63 Lithuanian officers and non‑commissioned officers conducted training in their future capacity as commanders at battalion and battery level, tactical control group, observer group, positioning, meteorology, armament, logistics, etc. The duration of the training varied, depending on the specialties, from 6½ – 12½ months in Denmark at Danish military schools. The training was coordinated by the Danish Artillery School, and it was supported by the team of translators. In Lithuania, work to prepare barracks and call up conscripts intensified during this phase. This included preparations of training facilities for live firing, etc. in Pabradė as well as in Rukla. The most remarkable event, though, took place on 25 September 2002, when M/S Tor Neringa arrived at Klaipeda harbour and unloaded 72 guns, more than 150 vehicles, ammunition and other pieces of artillery equipment. The gun line and the vehicles lined up in the harbour and at 14.00 hours, during a formal ceremony, the guns were officially transferred to Lithuania. Phase 3 (July 2003‑December 2003) encompassed training of a range of non‑commissioned officers and artillery specialists – a total of 90 personnel – delivered by the same Lithuanians who had been in Denmark during Phase 2, supported by a small Danish advisory team. The training covered most artillery fields: gun commanders, fire control, close protection, metrology, communication procedures, ammunition, etc. *

The translators worked from offices at the Military Academy under the supervision of a Lithuanian officer with artillery experience and with a direct communications line to the Danish Artillery School in Varde, Denmark.

CHAPTER 9

169

Phase 4 (May 2004‑February 2005) comprised training of Lithuanian conscript soldiers in Lithuania and all‑arms training. This phase also included the commissioning of an artillery simulator in the artillery battalion garrison. On 20 January 2005, the project was officially terminated. Lithuania could now again deploy field artillery in support of tactical operations, and Danish‑Lithuanian military cooperation had reached its apex. IN RETROSPECT Bilateral Danish‑Lithuanian military cooperation may seem to have had a slow start, as it only began in earnest after 1994. Yet, from a time perspective, it is impressive that just three years after the collapse of the Soviet Union, Denmark and Lithuania incorporated military affairs into their cooperation. The number of activities grew from about 40 activities a year to close to 100 activities during the last part of the 1990s and, in the same period, cooperation became less symbolic and more substantial. While Denmark initially attempted to deliver almost identical activity packages to each of the three countries, Lithuania, Latvia and Estonia, this changed drastically after the mid‑90s. The number of bilateral Danish‑Lithuanian projects and activities increased rapidly, while the number of bilateral activities with Latvia and Estonia grew at a much lower rate and never reached the same intensity as the Danish‑Lithuanian cooperation. There is no evidence that this was due to deliberate Danish policy making. On the contrary, Denmark was eager to promote an overall Baltic approach in the military field. It is also noteworthy that the structural changes that Vice Minister Jonas Kronkaitis implemented in 1998 took the Lithuanian Army in a much different direction than the Danish Army. Yet, the cooperation continued and deepened. It is reasonable to assume that at least two factors contributed to the fact that Danish‑Lithuanian military cooperation was expanded significantly by the turn of the millennium. One aspect is the personal contacts generated by Danish and Lithuanian personnel serving together in missions abroad. Soldiers who shared risks also shared responsibilities, and this created strong 170

professional bonds. A second aspect is that, early on, good, direct personal contacts were established between the two countries: The defence attaché offices in Copenhagen and in Vilnius, the secondment of Danish military advisors in Rukla and in TRADOC, but also numerous visits to Lithuania and to Denmark by key policy makers and planners. The frequent interaction between Lithuanian and Danish military cadres and relevant civil servants and politicians generated an atmosphere of trust – and also contributed to frank discussions when problems and disagreements arose. In 2004, Lithuania became a member of NATO. A major Lithuanian political objective had been achieved, and it had been a Danish goal, too. The military cooperation continued after this point and has in many ways developed in a manner that was not anticipated in the mid‑1990s. Most striking was the fact that the Iron Wolf Brigade in 2006 officially became affiliated with ´Danish Division´ and had Lithuanian staff officers permanently based in the Division Headquarters in Haderslev, Denmark. This signified the full integration of the Lithuanian land forces into NATO’s force structure. In the peacekeeping field, Denmark not only appreciated the posting of Lithuanian military personnel to Danish troop contingents in the Balkans, but also in Iraq. From 2015, Denmark reversely deployed staff officers to the Provincial Reconstruction Team in Chaghcharan in Afghanistan to serve under Lithuanian command. The fact that Danish officers by 2015 served under Lithuanian officers symbolises how the cooperation matured and changed. Not only has the cooperation become more equal, it has also increasingly become multinational and NATO‑centred. Finally, it has increasingly become geared towards deterrence and, to a certain extent, Lithuania has taken over Denmark’s former role as a NATO frontline state. In a sense, this process also holds true for Danish‑Lithuanian relations in general. In the run‑up to Lithuanian EU and NATO ascension, the Danish embassy in Vilnius grew to a staff of around 15 persons. No longer has a defence attaché in each of the three Baltic countries. Nowadays, there is only one, and he holds accreditations to all three countries. Yet, he resides in Vilnius. In the other direction, the picture is the same: Lithuania has a defence attaché that holds accreditations in all three Scandinavian countries – and he resides in Copenhagen. CHAPTER 9

171

Sources & Literature:

Hækkerup, Hans: På skansen – dansk forsvarspolitik fra murens fald til Kosovo, Lindhardt og Ringhof, 2002 Brett, Julian Elgaard: No New Dividing Lines – Danish Defence Support to the Baltic States, Danish Institute of International affairs, 2002 Ministry of Defence archives: 93‑0131/L9‑1Litauens indenrigspolitik 93‑0019‑12Litauisk lovgivning krigsforhold 93‑0241/L9‑1Oplysning om Litauens forsvar 93‑0441‑6FN‑uddannelse: Danmark ‑ Litauen 93‑053‑23Aktiviteter/forhold med Baltikum 93‑053‑38Dansk‑baltiske pol‑mil konsultationer 93‑053‑4Danmark – Litauen 93‑054/I7‑1FOV’s Konference, Samarbejde 93‑054‑2NATO ‑ C&EE ‑ Militære og civile 93‑055‑7Samarb. britisk‑nordisk‑baltisk 93‑055‑22USA og Baltikum 93‑055‑24Baltikum samarbejdet, generelt 93‑142‑13Dansk‑nordisk bistand/militært 93‑142‑16Dansk militær bistand til Litauen 93‑142‑29BALTBAT‑ samt PfP‑øvelser 93‑4108‑8Udveksling af eksperter (AC) mellem DK og Baltikum 99‑0044‑1Nordisk/Baltisk FM‑møde, ALLE ÅR. 99‑0131/L9‑1Litauens indenrigspolitik 99‑024/L9‑1Oplysning om Litauens forsvar 99‑0261‑10PfP/EAPC ‑ PK – øvelser 99‑0261‑30PARP Baltikum 99‑0261‑33PfP Planning and Review Process 99‑032‑10OSCE, CSBM Forhandling om regionale ordninger 99‑053‑27Aktiviteter/forhold med Baltikum 99‑053‑7Danmark – Litauen 99‑053‑38Danmark ‑ Litauen sikkerhedsaftale 99‑054‑12Litauens bilaterale samarbejde med andre lande.

172

99‑0552‑1Samarbejdet omkring BALTBAT 99‑0556‑2BALTSEA – koordinationsmøde 99‑0559‑4Baltikum samarbejdet, generelt 99‑057‑1Østsamarbejde generelt. 99‑1014‑14MAP – Litauen 99‑162/N59‑1SFOR – generelt 99‑4108‑12Udveksling af eksperter (AC) mellem DK og Baltikum 04‑0121/L9‑1FORAT Vilnius, generelt ‑ kvartalsrapporter og indberetninger 04‑052‑2Danmark – Litauen 04‑052‑11Aktiviteter/forhold med Baltikum 04‑053‑15Danmark ‑ Litauen sikkerhedsaftale 04‑4108‑9Udveksling af eksperter (AC) mellem DK og Baltikum 0–0‑0

CHAPTER 9

173

CHAPTER 10

DANISH-LITHUANIAN DEFENCE COOPERATION AND NATO MEMBERSHIP: A SUCCESSFUL COOPERATION THAT ACHIEVED ITS POLITICAL-STRATEGIC OBJECTIVE By Kristian Fischer, Director, Danish Institute for International Studies, and Peter Michael Nielsen, Strategic Advisor at The Danish Ministry of Defence Acquisition and Logistics Organisation Kristian Fischer and Peter Michael Nielsen, both very well-placed diplomats at the time leading up to NATO-enlargement, explain how Denmark supported Lithuania on its way from being a credible candidate to becoming a full NATO member. They describe the continued close Danish-Lithuanian cooperation within NATO up until today.

INTRODUCTION The end of the Cold War provided an opportunity to support Lithuania and the two other Baltic states, Estonia and Latvia, in their ambition to become fully independent, establish democratic societies and to become credible candidates for integration into Euro‑Atlantic structures; in other words, to become members of NATO and the EU. The radically changed security situation after the end of the Cold War meant that Denmark was no longer a frontline state. However, an important grey zone had opened up, and it was essential to ensure that it did not become permanent. CHAPTER 10

175

As a fellow small state, Denmark clearly had sympathy for the security challenges and aspirations of the three Baltic states; at the same time, it also had an interest in avoiding creating new dividing lines in Europe. This chapter explains the early days of the defence cooperation, including the key multilateral defence cooperation projects, the development of these projects and their importance for Lithuania’s becoming a security provider and thereby also a credible candidate for NATO membership. It does so while at the same time explaining the international setting and challenges of the period, including the overall defence and security policy considerations, as seen from a Danish perspective. For a period that began in the early 1990s, we, the authors of this chapter, had the immense privilege and pleasure of helping to initiate and develop a set of defence and security programmes together with Lithuanian and other Baltic civil servants and officers. We had the opportunity to work very closely with our Lithuanian counterparts from the mid‑1990s right up until the country’s invitation to membership in NATO and all the way through the integration of Lithuania into the Alliance.* Our intention with this contribution is to provide a practitioner’s perspective on how cooperation between Denmark, Lithuania and a number of other states emerged and developed over the years.** THE BEGINNING OF COOPERATION When the Soviet Union dissolved in 1991, the security situation in the Baltic Sea region changed substantially, and possibilities emerged for

We are extremely pleased to have had the opportunity to contribute to this important development for not only Lithuania’s security, but also Denmark’s and other states’ security. Unfortunately, we cannot mention all the dedicated and extremely talented counterparts we have worked together with in Lithuania, the two other Baltic states, the Nordics, the UK, Germany, the US and the other relevant states over two decades. But is has certainly been one of the most gratifying elements of our professional careers.

This chapter is based on our recollections, and should not be seen as representing either official Danish Ministry of Defence or Danish Government perspectives or views. This article is not based on studies of documents in archives – we are not historians – and therefore this chapter should not be seen as a research product. A useful overview and analysis of the cooperation with the Baltic states can be found in Pete Ito’s chapter in Lawrence & Jermalavicius (eds.) 2013.

176

creating new cooperative security arrangements. Denmark had been a solid voice and was a front‑runner when a number of nations recognised the restoration of the independence of the three Baltic states in the autumn of 1991. The Danish foreign minister, Uffe Ellemann‑Jensen, played a proactive and leading role in this regard both on the domestic and on the international stage. Denmark had never accepted the Soviet Union’s annexation of the three states. Thus, Denmark declared its re‑establishment of diplomatic ties with Lithuania on 24 August 1991. Sympathy and support for the Baltic states was strong in Danish society from the outset. In the early days, the focus was on promoting democracy in the three states, including through the funding of a number of bilateral civilian initiatives. The enthusiasm for supporting the new democracies did not only come from Danish ministries and the parliament; municipalities and higher education institutions, including universities, also created a large number of cooperation projects and networks. In general, the support for the new democracies was deeply rooted in Danish society in the 1990s, and was therefore a largely uncontested issue at the political level. Obviously, one goal of the initiatives to help develop the three democracies was to support the countries’ respective governments in reinforcing their independence and establish true democracies after many decades of being under extreme authoritarian Soviet rule. The initiatives also had the goal of helping the three states become capable of dealing effectively with the rights of minorities – an important factor in building stable societies. If the three countries could not convincingly demonstrate that they were capable of dealing with minority issues, it could be an argument against Baltic membership of the EU and NATO. It was also an important part of achieving the objective of having Russian forces leave the Baltic states, which was completed in 1994, although the country’s military presence was only finally ended with the decommissioning of the Skrunda radar in Latvia, which was closed in October 1999. PEACEKEEPING AND INTERNATIONAL VISIBILITY The Danish minister of defence, Hans Hækkerup, was quick to see the new opportunities and also the challenges for Denmark in the Baltic Sea region after the Cold War.1 Denmark was quick off the block in CHAPTER 10

177

establishing contact with the ministries of defence (MoDs) in the Baltic states and responding to interest in developing cooperation. A defence attaché position covering all three Baltic states was established and filled by Col. Michael Clemmesen, who played an important role in developing cooperation with Lithuania and the two other Baltic states. Between January and March 1994, bilateral cooperation agreements were signed with all three Baltic countries. As cooperation grew, separate defence attaché positions were established in all three Baltic states, and Col. Steen Bornholdt Andersen became the first defence attaché to Lithuania. While the bilateral cooperation was important, a key feature of the cooperation with the Baltic states including Lithuania, particularly in the early years, was that it was not so much bilateral in nature, but predominantly multilateral. The main component was a number of multilateral cooperation projects for all three states, which had support from a wider group of Western nations. This was a carefully considered approach aimed at creating international interest and backing for the Baltic states’ security and defence and, importantly, also at sharing the risks and responsibilities of the support among “donor states” Minister Hækkerup played a pivotal role, and not only as a key political architect behind these cooperation projects and activities; successful cooperation was one of the top political ambitions of his career, and he also invested a very substantial portion of his time as minister of defence in domestic and international meetings, seminars, conferences, etc. to advance this ambition. The first multilateral initiative was the Baltic Battalion (BALTBAT): the creation of a Lithuanian‑Latvian‑Estonian battalion‑size military force to be used for peacekeeping operations, e.g. in a UN setting, and not as a unit for territorial defence of the respective countries as such. Following initial discussions at a Baltic defence ministers’ meeting on 13 September 1993,2 this initiative grew out of a 22 November 1993 meeting of chiefs of defence of the Baltic states, where the possibility of creating a joint unit of battalion size was discussed. In the Danish MoD, the political guidance from Minister Hækkerup was clear: Denmark should establish closer contacts to the defence ministries and armed forces in the three Baltic countries and support their independence. Increasing cooperation with the Baltic states and supporting our Baltic neighbours in creating a joint unit for deployment in peacekeeping operations were not contentious actions domestically. 178

The first concrete step in seeking international support for the BALTBAT project idea was to contact the British MoD.* Choosing the UK as the first state to solicit for concrete cooperation in a multinational project was due to a combination of considerations: the size of the UK; its clear interest in the security developments in the Baltic Sea region; its experience in taking part in multinational cooperation; and the close, established cooperation between Denmark and the UK on defence matters. In February 1994, the Danish MoD arranged a bilateral meeting with its UK counterpart in London with the purpose of soliciting potential British interest in joining a Danish‑led, multilateral project to support the Baltic states in the creation of a Baltic peacekeeping battalion.** The Danish intention before the meeting was to host and chair an international meeting shortly thereafter in Copenhagen. During the bilateral meeting, the BALTBAT idea, which was not yet very developed, was presented and discussed. The UK ministry agreed to join an international meeting in Copenhagen shortly thereafter. It is worth noting here that in those days, the experience and professional competence of the Danish MoD in setting up larger international meetings and chairing them was very limited. The international department in the Danish MoD was primarily filled with younger civil servants and officers. It was a totally new task for the Danish defence ministry to carry out “capacity‑building” efforts on the international stage. This has since become very much a task for the Danish defence in many international engagements in weak and fragile states, both in and beyond Europe. After initial bilateral contacts with Nordic MoDs and a number of other European states, as well as the local US, French and German embassies, the first multilateral BALTBAT steering group meeting was held at the Ministry of Defence in Copenhagen on 18 March 1994. The participants,*** under Danish chairmanship, succeeded in gathering their respective states, with different security affiliations, behind the

There were also diplomatic activities where the idea of BALTBAT was discussed. Our emphasis is in this chapter on the MoD side.

MoD special advisor Kristian Fischer arranged a meeting with the UK MoD counterpart.

***

There were two multilateral meetings – first a meeting between potential donor states followed by a meeting of all states: Lithuania, Denmark, Latvia, Estonia, UK, France, US, Germany, the Netherlands, Sweden, Norway and Finland. Kristian Fischer from Denmark chaired the meetings, supported by Charlotte Bro, head of section MOD.

CHAPTER 10

179

ambition to define a concept for the creation of BALTBAT. The meeting also resulted in Nordic and UK “briefing and fact‑finding team” visits to all three Baltic states in late April 1994 to investigate the nature of support needed for the creation of a BALTBAT. Having generated international support for the BALTBAT project, it was also necessary to further develop the institutional structure to get the project going. In addition to the BALTBAT steering group, a military working group, also under Danish lead, was established. This steering group meeting was followed by work on the identification of specific needs and resource demands, including a useful division of labour between the donor states, and other issues shaping how to proceed with the project. This entailed tackling quite a number of difficult issues for members of the steering group. One key issue was to determine the location of the multinational military headquarters for BALTBAT. Lithuania, being the largest of the three Baltic states, could be seen as a natural front‑runner for this position, but after discussions in the steering group – and most likely also at civil, military and political levels between the Baltic nations – it became clear that geography had to play a central role here. The final decision was that Adazi in Latvia – a former Soviet military base – would become the headquarters for BALTBAT. Other difficult issues included defining the cost shares between the Baltic states and the “donor” nations. This was a really important issue for many of the most active donor nations, since they wanted to see a clear Baltic “buy‑in”, and thereby a political and economic commitment to the multinational project. Since the economic resources of the armed forces in all three Baltic states were very limited, it is important to keep in mind that these political decisions to invest already very scarce defence funds in a project to build a “peacekeeping capacity” were not easy ones at a time when many in the Baltic political environment were asking for a build‑up of territorial defence forces. Thus, it did demand a good sense of political vision and a measure of courage to argue for significant funding to BALTBAT. It is clear that the young and dynamic Lithuanian minister of defence, Linas Linkevicius, played an essential role here. He and his Danish counterpart, Hans Hækkerup, had established close ties early on, and these ties were of immense value when the BALTBAT project had to be defined, funded and implemented. 180

The BALTBAT project was hardly underway before ministers Hækkerup and Linkevicius jointly developed the idea that Lithuania should provide a platoon to the Danish contingent to UNPROFOR in Croatia. The idea was conceived during a visit by Minister Hækkerup to Lithuania in March 1994. On a return flight from Klaipeda to Vilnius in an old and very noisy MI‑8 helicopter, Hans Hækkerup and Linas Linkevicius could not hear what each other was saying. Therefore, they exchanged written notes and agreed on the backside of a napkin that a Lithuanian platoon should go with the Danish contingent to UNPROFOR in Croatia. Hækkerup himself has called the “helicopter agreement” a “quantum leap”.3 The principle of “learning by doing” was harnessed to the fullest extent, as the Lithuanian platoon did not have the same level of training as the BALTBAT soldiers. The other Nordic countries were somewhat unsettled by Hækkerup and Linkevicius shortcutting the purpose of the project, but they accepted it, as they were promised that it would not affect the project. This proved to be a resounding success, and soon, Estonia and Latvia also wanted to participate in the operation. When NATO went into Bosnia with the IFOR mission at the end of 1995, the Baltic states again went with Denmark. This was even better, since it clearly demonstrated the capabilities of the Baltic states, also in an Alliance context. Joint deployments have since become a regular feature of Danish‑Lithuanian and more broadly Danish‑Baltic cooperation. Denmark and Lithuania were brought closely together when a Lithuanian, Capt. Darius Vaicikauskas, very bravely stopped a Danish soldier who ran “amok”. What tied Denmark and Lithuania particularly closely together was that we together suffered the tragic loss of a Danish and a Lithuanian solider – Arne Andersen and Normundas Valteris – on joint patrol at Ozren mountain in Bosnia. Seen from a Danish point of view the BALTBAT focus on the creation of a new “peacekeeping” capacity and the non‑threatening signals it sent to Russia was important not only in a domestic context, but also in a broader international one. It was also very important to have a group of NATO and non‑NATO member states participating in the project, thereby sending a balanced signal to the outside world. Minister Hækkerup – a fluent Russian speaker with broad knowledge of Russian history and culture – was also very much aware of the CHAPTER 10

181

need to establish a constructive dialogue with Russia, which clearly had an interest in the developments. Hækkerup’s vision was to establish a “circle of cooperation in the Baltic Sea region” and thereby avoid creating new dividing lines. During the BALTBAT project’s lifetime, there were a number of talks with Russian interlocutors at both political and civil servant level. It is clear that the focus on “peacekeeping” tasks for BALTBAT was not alarming for Russia. It was most likely also reassuring for Russia that there was not a leading US role in the project. And with the deployments of Lithuanian, Latvian and Estonian platoons to the Danish UN peacekeeping contingent in Bosnia, it was also demonstrated in practice that real peacekeeping capabilities were established – and used. We, the authors of this chapter, do recall a substantial Russian interest in learning more about BALTBAT, but certainly not any hard rhetoric or confrontational attitudes. The Russian interest and concerns were more substantial when it came to another Hækkerup initiative, namely helping to prepare Poland’s military integration into NATO. The first step was to have Polish officers join the already existing Danish‑German divisional headquarters (HQ) in Rendsburg, Germany. The next step – once Poland had been invited to join NATO – was to establish a multinational corps HQ in Poland. To some, not least Russia, this was a very big step, since the HQ would be seen as a “NATO flag” in a former Warsaw Pact country. It was a deliberate choice by Denmark, Germany and Poland to go for an HQ in NATO’s force structure (owned and resourced by the participating nations) and not in the more visible NATO command structure (with very significant NATO funding, and therefore also a stronger NATO profile). Denmark took the initiative to visit the German MoD and present concrete plans on how to develop substantial trilateral cooperation. A very important Danish objective was to be included in a German‑Polish cooperative effort and, as such, have an “entry ticket” into the inner circles and security and defence thinking of the two large neighbouring countries. Poland and Germany, who shared a difficult set of historical experiences, had a clear interest in having Denmark as a kind of catalyst and also, at times, a mediator in the trilateral relationship. The corps HQ was certainly also of interest to Lithuania, as a direct neighbour of Poland’s, as well as to Latvia and Estonia. All three 182

Baltic countries had a clear interest in developing close political and military ties to the trilateral cooperative effort. Denmark therefore worked to establish such ties for the three states. There were annual trilateral ministerial meetings to assess progress made in establishing the HQ and the cooperation between what was originally the Danish Jutland Division, the German 6th Panzergrenadierdivision and the Polish 12th Division in Stettin. The trilateral HQ was inaugurated in 1999, and the three Baltic countries became affiliated politically with it by participating in 3+3 ministerial meetings back‑to‑back with the trilateral ministerial meetings. There is no doubt that BALTBAT and the broader support to the new democracies from Denmark itself and in multilateral frameworks had to be seen in a broader security context. Supporting not only Lithuania, Latvia and Estonia, but also Poland, in their efforts to become fully independent and democratic states with clear ambitions to become members of both NATO and the EU would be positive for Danish security. Denmark had been a “frontline state” for decades during the Cold War. The decision of Poland and the Baltic states to move toward increased cooperation with Europe and the North American Allies could only be a positive development for Danish security. These points were very much in the backs of the minds of many of the Danish participants working on the Baltic cooperation projects. But at the start of BALTBAT there was no blueprint – or hidden agenda, for that matter – for Baltic membership of NATO or the EU. However, as Lithuania and its two Baltic neighbours harnessed this as their own objective and made substantial progress on defence, security and domestic matters, Denmark saw a clear opportunity to proactively work towards bringing these countries and their people closer to NATO, as well as to advance their candidacy for membership in the Alliance. In all three Baltic states, there were clear and consistent majorities who wanted to join the Alliance. That also provided a strong foundation for their candidacy and for the Danish support. The press statement of the NATO summit of 10–11 January 1994 in Brussels, in which US President Clinton participated, explicitly stated that the “Alliance remains open to the membership of other European countries”. This wording, together with even more explicit language in following speeches by President Clinton, sent a clear political signal CHAPTER 10

183

that NATO was open to new members and that the Alliance would invite them. However, the international political focus at that time was on finding new members among the Visegrad countries and not the Baltic states. Their prospective membership was still quite theoretical at this stage. The Partnership for Peace initiative (PfP) was launched at the Brussels summit. It was joined by aspiring NATO member countries, neutral countries and also, after some hesitation, by Russia. The BALTBAT project fitted extremely well with the objectives of the PfP. No bilateral or multilateral security guarantee followed from the project. Finland and Sweden, which had very limited connections to NATO at that time and were not members of the EU, also joined the PfP initiative. The focus of the PfP was on the creation of new peacekeeping capabilities, and therefore the BALTBAT project was quickly framed as being “within the spirit of PfP”. This gave the Baltic states a way to make a very concrete and politically visible contribution to NATO objectives. It allowed Lithuania and its two partners to send clear signals to the Alliance that they were serious about building up armed forces in accordance with the PfP aims. It is very clear that the BALTBAT donor states did not have identical political reasons for supporting BALTBAT and the other Baltic multinational cooperation projects. And certainly – as is often the case when it comes to multinational cooperation – there was also an element of competition between the donor states. But it was possible to establish enough common ground to move the projects forward. In our talks and discussions with Baltic colleagues over the years, we have given advice on how BALTBAT and the other multinational, capacity‑building projects could be used in order to further develop their arguments for membership in the Alliance. One key political signal emanating from the BALTBAT project was that the three states were also able to contribute to creating stability in weak and fragile states far from the Baltic Sea region. The development of a multinational Baltic peacekeeping battalion was a very visible sign of the three countries seeking to be “security providers” and not only “consumers of security”, as we Danes often termed it in meetings with our colleagues from NATO and EU countries. 184

Over the years – and sometimes in no uncertain terms – we argued for continued Baltic cooperation in the BALTBAT project, as well as in the other ensuing multilateral defence projects. Working together would send a strong political signal and also provide a much more visible contribution than three different and smaller contributions. The fear of all of our Baltic friends of being “left out” if one or perhaps two of their Baltic counterparts received invitations to become members of NATO was quite often a hidden factor in many difficulties and discussions. Lithuania, having almost as large a population as Latvia and Estonia combined, had to make difficult internal deliberations on whether it would have a greater chance for membership of NATO if it went its own way, and perhaps intensified cooperation with its western neighbour Poland. BALTBAT was deactivated on 26 September 2003 when, at the NATO summit in Prague, Lithuania and the two other Baltic states, along with four other Central and Eastern European states, were invited join the Alliance. A very good colleague and US diplomat, Pete Ito, who worked on the BALTIC dossier for a number of years, described the wider importance of the multilateral BALTBAT project in this way: The Baltic projects arguably were a great success, and have value as both operational and academic case studies [...] particularly the political decisions which laid the foundation, also provide lessons which continue to be crucial for effective military aid projects. In short BALTBAT and the other Baltic projects have significant and contemporary relevance.4 A FOOT IN THE DOOR TO NATO: DEVELOPING BALTIC SELF‑DEFENCE CAPACITIES The question of whether and how the Baltic states could be defended, the so‑called defensibility question, increasingly became an issue from 1996 onward. NATO membership was foremost a political question in which three issues were of particular importance. The first was the strategic interest in bringing the Baltic states into NATO and ensuring that any security vacuum Russia might consider filling would cease to CHAPTER 10

185

NATO Summit in Brussels, January 1994. At this Summit, NATO sent a clear political signal that NATO was open to new members and that the Alliance would invite them, including Lithuania. Copyright: The Press Department, German Bundesregierung

exist. The second was how to avoid importing security problems into the Alliance, which required a settlement of outstanding issues with Russia on borders and minorities. The third was that if the Baltic states were to become NATO members, the question of how they could be defended had to be answered if not positively, then at least in a way that could point to them being focused on developing their self‑defence capabilities in a serious and concerted manner. Their limited capabilities could not be explained away, but their determination to build credible forces and to meet NATO’s 2% defence target had to be unambiguous. Compared to the other Central and Eastern European countries, there is no doubt that the Baltic states were a special case, having once been part of the Soviet Union. But the question was whether they had to be considered a special case politically or should be treated similarly to other Central and Eastern European countries. Here, the answer from the Danish side was unequivocal: they had to be treated no differently from the other countries seeking membership. This was not only the Danish government’s point of view; it had broad political support. At the same time, it was clearly recognised that compared to other Central European countries, the Baltic states were in a much more 186

difficult situation, as they had to develop their defence from scratch. The defence structures were extremely weak, and no medium‑ to long‑term plans existed to guide the development. This also meant that it was difficult to target defence cooperation and make it efficient. Discussions in 1997 in the newly‑established, overall cooperation forum on Baltic Security Assistance (BALTSEA) also pointed to the need to develop medium‑ to long‑term plans. The forum had been set up largely on a Danish initiative, but Norway had similar ideas and chaired the group for the first year before the chairmanship rotated to Denmark.* The Baltic states had little experience and knowledge of how to carry out defence planning, and domestic disagreements over priorities were also an inhibiting factor. In 1998, Denmark therefore offered to assist as part of a wider effort to provide tailored advice on defence concepts and perspectives to the three Baltic states. Denmark kept the US informed about this work, and the US made a similar study, the Kievenaar Study. The US followed up with a new study in 2001. Lithuania took this well on board and was determined to work along these lines. The two study reports were instrumental in developing national plans, and also provided the foundation for the development of individual NATO Membership Action Plans, which all three Baltic states were offered at the Washington Summit in 1999. During those years and the ones prior, the defence cooperation was fully supported at the defence minister and civil servant levels by a group of highly motivated and dedicated people. On the Lithuanian side, it included the deeply engaged and thoughtful deputy minister, Povilas Malakauskas; the very talented director of the International Department, Andrius Krivas; the energetic young Robertas Sapronas; and Colonel Jonas Gecas, the Lithuanian defence attaché in Copenhagen. On the Danish side, Deputy Permanent Secretary Per Carlsen played an inspiring leading role and helped advance the cooperation and the NATO perspective, together with the two authors of this article and a number of desk officers, including exchange personnel in the Danish and the British ministries of defence who were responsible for the Baltic multilateral cooperation projects.

Under the Danish chairmanship, Peter Michael Nielsen chaired the group.

CHAPTER 10

187

It was not only bi‑ and multilateral meetings, including NATO and Nordic meetings, that were held in order to build support and understanding for the Baltic states and the prospect of NATO membership. The international research community was an important partner in the discussion, and special use was also made of participation in international conferences. Hans Hækkerup addressed the annual meeting of the Institute for International Strategic Studies (IISS) in 1996 and made a plea for enlarging NATO. At that point, contacts were established with the US think tank RAND, and specifically with three of its leading researchers, who were actively engaged in the enlargement debate: Ronald D. Asmus, F. Stephen Larrabee and Robert Nurick. Two of them, Asmus and Larrabee, had written a seminal article in Foreign Affairs in 1993 together with another RAND colleague, Richard L. Kugler, that for the first time in the US argued for enlargement of NATO.5 They followed this up with an article in Survival in spring 1995 in which they argued for including the Czech Republic, Hungary, Poland and Slovakia in NATO.6 How to deal with the Baltic states was not considered, implicitly sending the signal that this was not seen as an option, at least not in the short term. The problem with a narrow round of enlargement was, however, that it might aggravate the security situation for the “have nots”. At a minimum, the door needed to be kept open and a strategy sketched out to determine how those countries that were not invited in the first round could gain membership. With this objective in mind, the Danish Ministry of Defence engaged in a substantial dialogue with the RAND researchers to broaden their understanding of this perspective, which was not alien to them. A visit to the Baltic states was conducted in 1996, and several brainstorming meetings were held, including one with Hans Hækkerup in Bornholm. At these meetings, the elements of a comprehensive strategy for how the Baltic states could be considered credible candidates for NATO membership and initiatives that could be taken to support them were discussed. In the summer of 1996, Asmus and Robert Nurick published a new article in Survival, in which the main elements of this strategy were presented.7 It was the first time a leading article appeared discussing the prospect of Baltic NATO membership and the problems related to not keeping the door open to them. It helped broaden the understanding of a hitherto not‑too‑well‑understood problem in the enlargement debate at a critical time leading up to the Madrid 188

NATO summit. It proved important in several ways. Shortly after its publication, Asmus moved to the State Department and became deputy assistant secretary of state for Europe and thereby a very important US figure in the enlargement process. He tragically died all too young in 2011, but Robert Nurick has to this day remained highly engaged in the cooperation with the Baltic and Nordic states, to which he has made an invaluable contribution in the development of strategies and analysis of regional security and defence issues. The article by Asmus and Nurick also recognised the important role the Nordic countries had in relation to the Baltic states, but flatly rejected the notion, which otherwise met with some support, that the Nordic countries should provide for the Baltic states’ security. The Nordic cooperation with the Baltic states was in many ways instrumental for developing the Baltic states’ defence forces, but it could not be a substitute for membership in NATO or in the EU. Even Sweden and Finland tacitly accepted this. Furthermore, the article underlined what was also a key Danish consideration: that Baltic cooperation was central to the prospect of NATO membership. In 1997, two additional multilateral projects had been agreed to by the Baltic states and met support from a group of international donors. These were the establishment of a Baltic naval squadron, BALTRON, and a Baltic air surveillance network (BALTNET), which had leading international support from Germany and Norway respectively. In 1998, a further project was added, with the establishment of a Baltic defence college (BALTDEFCOL). As it had for BALTBAT, Denmark led this work, and Brigadier‑General Michael Clemmesen, the first Danish defence attaché to the Baltic states, became the first commandant of the college. BALTDEFCOL was considered very important for the development of the Baltic states’ self‑defence capacities. At the strategic level, it was clear that it would be of fundamental importance to get support for NATO membership, especially from the US and Germany. In the formative years of defence cooperation, Denmark, as already described, worked closely with the UK, which was very supportive of concrete defence cooperation, but proved, at least initially, reluctant to support the political perspective of NATO membership. Denmark therefore concentrated its political efforts on getting the support of the US and Germany, with the clear expectation CHAPTER 10

189

that if they came on board, others would follow. During those talks it was clear that Denmark, as a smaller ally, could play a helpful and leading role in both strategy development and in defence cooperation efforts. Danish Minister of Defence Hans Hækkerup’s very close relationships with both the German defence minister, Volker Rühe, and the US secretaries of defence, William Perry and William Cohen, proved to be of great significance. All four were extremely knowledgeable on security policy issues, had longstanding experience with defence matters and were intellectually very adept. * Germany was ambivalent at the outset. The US was also not convinced that granting NATO membership to the Baltic states was the way to go, and had a view to not upsetting Russia. The US was therefore neither in a leading nor in a directing role on defence cooperation. Both countries were interested in the Baltic cooperation projects that were “in the spirit of PfP”. They developed substantial bilateral cooperation programmes, which were important. The Baltic states themselves considered the cooperation with the US to be key. In Lithuania, it acquired added importance when a former US army officer of Lithuanian descent, Jonas Kronkaitis, became the country’s chief of defence. In September 1996, the US secretary of defence, William Perry, participated in a meeting with Nordic and Baltic defence ministers hosted by Hans Hækkerup in Copenhagen, where Perry famously said that the Baltic states were “not yet ready to take on the Article V responsibilities of NATO membership”. He concluded by saying, “It is not ‘no’, it is ‘not yet’.”8 While Denmark saw it as highly positive that a leading US minister had mentioned the prospect of the Baltic states joining NATO for the first time, and had noted that they were on the way to doing so, the statement was met with dismay in the Baltic states, as they held high

190

The cooperation was also supported by close collaboration at civil servant‑level at this time. In Germany, it included the head of the international department, Vice Admiral Weisser; the head of the NATO and WEU department, Col. Meyer; and the head of defence cooperation, Col. Gauchel. In the US, close partners included undersecretary of defence for policy, Walter B. Slocombe, and assistant secretary of defence, Franklin D. Kramer. At lower levels, it included the Danish desk officer in the Pentagon, first Jim Townsend and later James Hursch. Following his term at the Pentagon, the latter was exchange officer in the Danish Ministry of Defence for three years, where he worked on NATO enlargement issues, among other things.

hopes for early membership. It required quite an effort to get the positive aspects of the US statement across. In early 1997, the US became more positive with the arrival of Madeleine Albright as secretary of state, and NATO enlargement started gaining real momentum. The outcome of the NATO summit in Madrid in July 1997 was a turning point for the future NATO membership of the Baltic states. At that meeting, for the first time since the end of the Cold War, NATO opened its doors to former members of the Warsaw Pact by inviting Poland, the Czech Republic and Hungary to join. At the same time, and due to a dedicated effort by the Danish prime minister Poul Nyrup Rasmussen and the Danish foreign minister Niels Helveg Petersen, the summit recognised that NATO remains open to new members “...regardless of geographical location….”9 We both remember the excitement of our Baltic counterparts when they learned about this formulation in the summit communiqué. It was – without naming the three Baltic states – clearly addressing their security situations and their aspiration to become NATO members. In the same summit communiqué, the NATO heads of states and governments recognised “…the progress achieved toward greater stability and cooperation by the states in the Baltic region which are also aspiring members…” NATO, they said, “remains open to new members… The Alliance expects to extend further invitations in the coming years”. In the US, leading senators Richard Lugar and Joe Biden argued for including more countries.10 After the summit, US president Bill Clinton visited Copenhagen. It was the first‑ever visit by a US president in office to Denmark, and a recognition of the country’s active foreign and security policy, including its support for international operations and the Baltic states. The president acknowledged the Danish policy on, and work with, the Baltic states, and the visit was actively used to further the cause of those states. A key element was also to develop NATO’s Partnership for Peace (PfP) so that it better supported the needs of the aspirant countries. The emphasis was slowly moved from “peacekeeping” to the more robust notion of “peace support”, and efforts were made through the PfP Defence Planning and Review Process (PARP) to provide advice on developing self‑defence capabilities. At the Washington Summit in 1999, not unexpectedly but to the great disappointment of the Baltic states, no new invitations were issued. CHAPTER 10

191

However, the summit declaration stated that NATO leaders “…recognise and welcome the continuing efforts and progress in both Romania and Slovenia. We also recognise and welcome continuing efforts in Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania…” At the same time, seven aspirant countries including the Baltic states, were offered a so‑called Membership Action Plan, which many termed a “waiting room” for NATO membership. To help them prepare their first membership action plan, Danish Colonel Carsten Svensson advised the three Baltic states in the summer of 1999. This followed up on previous advice delivered by an independent group of senior retired officers called the International Defence Advisory Board (IDAB). Denmark’s Lieutenant General (retd.) Kjeld Hillingsø participated. In 1999, the first major bilateral weapons delivery from Denmark was also decided. The Danish Social Liberal Party, which had been hesitant, accepted it when a general agreement was formed as part of the 1998 report of the Danish Defence Commission. Finally, in 2002, seventy‑two 105mm howitzers were delivered to Lithuania, along with more than 150 vehicles, ammunition, and other pieces of artillery equipment. Although the equipment was old – Denmark had received it as part of a weapons donation from the US after the Second World War – it was a significant breakthrough in terms of the possibility to supply the Baltic states with lethal weapons for self‑defence purposes, and a much‑needed capacity boost for the Lithuanians. The delivery of weapons was part of an increasingly ambitious bilateral defence cooperation programme with Lithuania. It focused on a number of larger, long‑term projects and was tailored to Lithuania’s specific needs and level of development. Compared to the other two Baltic states, Lithuania, being the largest and most populous of the three, had a stronger defence capacity and a stronger defence tradition. However, it was less well supported economically than Estonia, the wealthiest of the three Baltic countries. FROM MAP TO NATO MEMBERSHIP With the prospect of membership having become more real with the offering of MAP status, the Baltic states started an even more intense and dedicated membership preparation process. As a consequence, 192

the bilateral cooperation programme was almost exclusively focused to this end. The process of increasing ownership and of taking the lead on the bi‑ and multilateral cooperation, so‑called “baltification”, also intensified. The aim was to prepare the Baltic states to walk in through the door to NATO by themselves at the time when this became possible. Various models for a possible staggered membership for the Baltic states in NATO and the EU were circulated at that time. Initially, the prevailing view, including in the US, was that the EU should invite new members first. But at the end of the day, the only thing that made sense was simultaneous membership for all three states in both organisations at the same time. The unequivocal support of the Central and Eastern European countries, including the Baltic states, for the US following the 9‑11 terrorist attacks on the US helped shift the perspective. Also of importance in this shift was the fact that a more amicable relationship developed with Russia after the attack, with a new, common effort against the threat from terrorism. NATO moved first, and at the 2002 Prague Summit the Baltic states were invited to start the accession process to become NATO members. They were admitted into the Alliance shortly before the NATO Summit in the spring of 2004. It was an extremely special day for both Danes and Lithuanians when finally, having prepared and attended a great number of meetings for some time, they became full members of the Alliance. NATO’s article five security guarantee now also covered Lithuania and the two other Baltic states. COOPERATION WITHIN NATO One might expect that after the wording of the NATO 1997 summit communiqué on Alliance openness towards new members “regardless of their geographical location”, the matter of Lithuanian, Latvian and Estonian membership of NATO became much easier in the internal deliberations at NATO headquarters. However, this was not always the case. For example, in the communiqué‑drafting exercises before ministerial meetings and also in some drafting of key NATO documents, some nations attempted to backtrack on CHAPTER 10

193

In September 2021, Denmark took over - for the eighth time - the responsibility for the Baltic Air Policing mission. At the take over ceremony in Šiauliai, Hans Brask, Ambassador of Denmark to Lithuania, gave a speech. Photo: The Danish Embassy in Vilnius

the wording of the Madrid summit. It was therefore essential for Denmark and its likeminded allies to be on their toes when such efforts took place. The MAP process was an extremely important and resource‑intensive element in those years, where contacts between Danish and Lithuanian officials, not only in the countries’ respective ministries of defence, but also their delegations to NATO, were very close. The bilateral contacts between the Danish MoD and MFA staff at the NATO delegation and their Lithuanian counterparts were significantly enhanced in the years following the 1997 summit,* and it was extremely useful for the Danish staff to understand the Lithuanian and also Latvian and Estonian thinking and concrete plans. There were a number of activities around preparing Lithuanian documents for NATO that harnessed these contacts between Danes and Lithuanians. We also played a role for our Baltic counterparts as they sought to understand the working procedures of the Alliance and to identify the right NATO officials to connect with.

194

We had a number of excellent Lithuanian colleagues as defence counsellors at the national delegation.

That the NATO structures and the number of issues dealt with in these structures are rather comprehensive and resource‑intensive for a nation of Denmark´s size, even with many decades of membership behind it, only illustrates the complexity a new democracy like Lithuania faced in preparing itself for membership. There was simply a need to prioritise between issues and also to think very hard about which professional profiles fit NATO tasks. Denmark – and of course also other members – provided quite a bit of support, interpretation and advice to our Lithuanian colleagues. After Lithuania joined NATO, Denmark and Lithuania continued their close bilateral cooperation. We saw close operational cooperation in the coalition efforts in Iraq, where Lithuanian soldiers worked side by side with their Danish colleagues in the Basra region. We also saw close cooperation between our armed forces in Afghanistan, where Lithuania took on the very significant responsibility of leading a provincial reconstruction team. Denmark provided soldiers as well as other kinds of support to perform this task. After the illegal Russian annexation of Crimea and aggression against Ukraine in 2014, NATO established an increased presence in some of the new member states, including Lithuania. Denmark and Lithuania agreed that the leader of the NATO unit in Lithuania should be a Danish colonel. We have also worked closely together in exercises in the region, and Denmark has participated with aircraft on several rotations in the NATO air policing mission in the Baltic states. More recently, the bilateral defence agreement has been updated. In short, the close cooperation and special ties between Denmark and Lithuania are still very much alive. REFLECTIONS AND PERSPECTIVES From the perspective of the authors of this chapter, the successful journey towards Lithuanian NATO membership was a unique and challenging, but also deeply rewarding, experience. The Danish‑Lithuanian defence cooperation and the multinational cooperation with all three Baltic states played a very unique and important role in the support CHAPTER 10

195

for Lithuania and the two other Baltic states’ independence and sovereignty, democratic development and ensuing integration in the EU and NATO. Additionally, it has proven extremely valuable for stability in the Baltic Sea region and beyond. How was this achieved? On the Lithuanian side, there was a clear and consistent national determination to pursue the objectives of NATO and EU membership. A large number of Lithuanians – including Minister Linkevicius in his different capacities as minister and NATO ambassador – had a vision and foresight, made difficult national choices and effectively faced tough dilemmas over the years to reach these goals. Denmark, which was clearly the first NATO country to see the possibilities for and perspectives of supporting the new Baltic democracies with regard to integration into Euro‑Atlantic structures, was similarly fortunate to have both broad domestic political support and leaders with the clear political vision and determination to pursue this objective over many, many years. In Denmark, the key political figures included Uffe Ellemann‑Jensen, Hans Hækkerup and, later, Foreign Minister Niels Helveg Petersen and Prime Minister Poul Nyrup Rasmussen. In both Lithuania and Denmark they were supported by dedicated civil servants, diplomats and officers working on these issues over a large number of years. It was a committed effort, involving many actors who initially had very little experience and knowledge of working together with Baltic counterparts. A huge number of Danish human, military, diplomatic and economic resources were invested in the “Baltic project”. The acceptance of Lithuania as a member of the Alliance – and later also the EU – has been one of Denmark’s biggest – if not the biggest – security and defence policy successes in modern history. Clearly, this was the result of a huge investment and clear determination and focus over a long time. For a small nation to succeed in such a difficult endeavour – seen by many on the international scene during most of the 1990s as an impossible or even irresponsible policy – it must be able to create international support for its policy to put it on the real political agenda. Finally, as is often the case in international relations, timing is of the essence. A window of opportunity emerged in the early 1990s and it was successfully exploited. It is clear that NATO’s openness towards new members has been interpreted variously and is the subject of sometimes fairly heated debate 196

and irreconcilable views. However, some critics of NATO’s enlargement process do seem to overlook two key issues: The first is that NATO did not ask the new democracies to join the Alliance. The drive came from the new democracies themselves, and was quite often met with some fairly stiff resistance from members of the Alliance during those years. This was very much the case for Lithuania and its two Baltic friends. Secondly, it is also very often overlooked or perhaps not known that Russia had actually accepted that European states have the right to join security organisations, and to leave them if they deem it necessary to do so. This political principle was even accepted at the very highest political level by the heads of state and government at the Istanbul OSCE summit in November 1999: Each participating State has an equal right to security. We reaffirm the inherent right of each and every participating State to be free to choose or change its security arrangements, including treaties of alliance, as they evolve. Each State also has the right to neutrality. Each participating State will respect the rights of all others in these regards. They will not strengthen their security at the expense of the security of other States. Within the OSCE no State, group of States or organization can have any pre‑eminent responsibility for maintaining peace and stability in the OSCE area or can consider any part of the OSCE area as its sphere of influence (our emphasis). Thus, it may be a rhetorical question to ask: What would have been the security situation of Lithuania, Latvia and Estonia after the Russian aggressions against Georgia and Ukraine, had the three Baltic states not been members of NATO and the EU? They would no doubt have found themselves in an extremely difficult situation, which would also have affected neighbouring countries in a severe and negative way. The whole of Danish society and the Danish government – including the Ministry of Defence and other ministries – has played a crucial role in supporting our Baltic friends to develop their own societies in a remarkable and positive way over the last 20 years. This has obviously been beneficial for our friends in Lithuania, Latvia and Estonia, but CHAPTER 10

197

also for the Baltic Sea region and beyond. We have seen a stable development of the new democracies. It has been a “two‑way street” where Denmark also gained, and not only in terms of our security, but also in the development of totally new skills for our armed forces through “capacity‑building” activities in international settings. The cooperation, tackling of difficult dilemmas and making of clear priorities in and between the Baltic states were essential in achieving this success. Our cooperation would not have been so successful if the aim had not been to establish equal partnerships where donor countries actively encouraged and expected Baltic “buy‑in” in the bi‑ and multinational projects and provided perspectives for “baltification”. It helped make the projects sustainable, and thereby produced substantial progress in the development of defence capabilities and structures in the three countries. Today, a mature and balanced cooperation between Denmark and Lithuania exists, including within NATO, where it continues to develop. It continues to be supported by bi‑ and multilateral defence cooperation in other fora in the region. Did everything go as projected? Certainly not. There were many, many bumps along the road. Many of those involved in the BALTBAT project would have liked to see a joint Baltic deployment for an international peace mission. It did not take place. The respective military companies provided by Lithuania and its two Baltic counterparts were, however, used in a number of peace support missions, since a substantial new military capability had been developed. These deployments have often been with Danish contingents and therefore continue to be of great mutual benefit, while also supporting international peace and security. Finally, it is also worth mentioning that the establishment and the running of the bilateral and multinational cooperation projects also provided a platform for many Lithuanian politicians/ministers, civil servants and officers to establish professional networks, acquire knowledge and develop other useful capabilities. It was a platform for investment in developing extremely useful “human capital” – both for Baltic and for other participants. We have – with much pleasure – seen many of the involved Baltic actors develop. Some have ended up holding very senior positions in their respective societies.

198

Literature:

Asmus, Ronald D. 2002. Opening NATO’s Door. Columbia University Press: New York. Asmus, Ronald D. and Robert C. Nurick. 1996. “NATO enlargement and the Baltic States”. Survival 38(2): 121–42. Asmus, Ronald D., Richard L. Kugler and F. Stephen Larrabee. 1995. “NATO expansion: the next steps”. Survival 37(1): 7–33 Asmus, Ronald D., Richard L. Kugler and F. Stephen Larrabee. 1993. “Building a new NATO”. Foreign Affairs 72(4). Brett, Julian Elgaard. 2001. “Lessons Learned From the BALTBAT project: An Evaluation of the Multilateral Project Supporting the Baltic Battalion between 1994 and 2000”. Ministry of Defence of Denmark, Ministry of Defence of United Kingdom. Brett, Julian Elgaard. 2002. No New Dividing Lines: Danish Defence Support to the Baltic States. Danish Institute of International Affairs (DUPI). Danish MoD. 1995. ”Årlig Redegørelse”. Danish MoD. 1994. ”Årlig Redegørelse”. Dansk Udenrigspolitisk Årbog. 1995. Danish Institute of International Affairs (DUPI). Dansk Udenrigspolitisk Årbog. 1994. Danish Institute of International Affairs (DUPI). Hækkerup, Hans. 2002. På skansen : dansk forsvarspolitik fra murens fald til Kosovo. Copenhagen: Lindhardt og Ringhof Kramer, Mark. 2002. “NATO, the Baltic States and Russia: a framework for sustainable enlargement”. International Affairs 78(4): 731–756. Lawrence, Tony and Tomas Jermalavicius (eds). 2013. “Apprenticeship, partnership, membership: twenty years of defence development in the Baltic States”. Estonia: ICDS. Available at: https://icds.ee/wp‑content/ uploads/2018/05/RKK_Apprenticeship__Partnership__Membership_ WWW.pdf

CHAPTER 10

199

PART 4

POLITICAL AND SOCIETAL INTEGRATION

CHAPTER 11

DANISH ASSISTANCE TO EU MEMBERSHIP PREPARATION By Neringa Mataitytė, PhD student and lecturer, Institute of International Relations and Political Science at Vilnius University Denmark was adamantly promoting and supporting the EU enlargement with Lithuania, and Neringa Mataitytė outlines the timeline and the crucial question at stake during the process. Some of the key figures involved in the process have given their insights into the often difficult negotiations.

“Lithuania owes Denmark a landmark for their help in reaching the membership in the EU”, said Lithuanian diplomats when asked about their memories of how Lithuania reached membership in the European Union.1 Some politicians, diplomats or academics who remember different pieces of this period of great Lithuania‑Denmark friendship have the impression that cooperation with Denmark was highly important for Lithuania in the process of acquiring EU membership. However, these scattered memories are not laid down yet in one coherent story about Lithuania’s path to the EU and the exceptional role of Denmark in this demanding and challenging process. Therefore, there is a need to dig deeper in the specifics of this cooperation, which deserves to be celebrated as not only an example of how two regional allies can achieve great strategic goals, but also as a friendship based on an affective dimension with common values and emotional aspects. As three Baltic countries were seeking the membership of the EU*, their Nordic allies stepped in and provided their assistance by distributing

The European Union (EU) was officially created by the Mastricht Treaty in 1993 from its predecessor European Community (EC).

CHAPTER 11

203

partnership accordingly: Finland mentored Estonia, Sweden cooperated with Latvia and Denmark was the primary partner for Lithuania. It mentored Lithuanian diplomats and other officials in all fields ranging from high‑level negotiations to economic and legal institutions. The Baltics’ geopolitical orientation towards the Nordic Europe developed historically due to their geographical closeness. Yet the Baltics’ accession to the EU brought them together even more. Denmark’s profound mentorship and the assistance it provided to Lithuania during the latter’s accession period allows us to assume that both countries had strong interests in making Lithuania a member of the EU. Hence, it is important to understand these interests from the perspective of actors who participated closely in the process and contributed to achieving this goal. The article seeks to explore in more depth the story of Denmark and Lithuania’s cooperation when the latter was preparing for the membership and reveal the specifics of this friendship, which is considered to be a success story. Information was gathered by conducting interviews with officials who participated in Lithuania’s preparation and negotiation for membership in the EU2. The list of interviewees can be found at the end of this article. The first part of the article presents the historic context and 1993‑2004 timeline, which is followed by the discussion of strategic interests that connected both allies from the perspective of rational economic and security goals. The second part presents the other image of this friendship revealed by interviewed diplomats and based on emotional ties rather than the mere strategic interests. Engaging stories from personalities who experienced this important milestone first‑hand allow us to understand why Lithuania is grateful to Denmark for its assistance as well as to appreciate this beautiful friendship, which developed through history and has a promising future. CHALLENGING PATH TOWARDS THE EU: LITHUANIAN AND DANISH EFFORTS UNITED In 1993, Denmark took over the Presidency of the Council of the European Communities, which marked the beginning of the Lithuania’s journey to the EU. The European Council held in Copenhagen on June 21‑22 assured associated countries, of which Lithuania was one, 204

that they would become full members as soon as they satisfied the Copenhagen criteria established during the Council. Criteria required potential member states to meet the political, economic and legislative alignment conditions by establishing properly working democratic and free market institutions, as well as to guarantee human rights and the compliance of legislative systems with that of the EU. Yet behind this official moment of the beginning of negotiations for Lithuania’s membership, there were hidden a few crucial steps taken by Lithuanian and Danish officials. Vygaudas Usackas shared the special moment that lay behind this official meeting in Copenhagen: “A month before the summit, I was reached personally by a Danish diplomat, together with his German colleague who informed me that Baltic countries will have an exceptional chance to start conversation with EU members on their future membership and advised to seize the opportunity.”3 Mr Usackas remembered that Lithuania was going through significant internal challenges, and thus membership in the EU seemed an impossible goal that was not even considered. However, as he understood the importance of this unique opportunity, Mr Usackas started mobilising diplomatic efforts from Lithuania and other Baltic countries, which resulted in their joint official statement about the willingness of Baltic countries to become members of the EU. This moment in 1993 was very special, since it marked a crucial institutional step for Lithuania towards the EU and the demonstration of Danish support expressed personally to Lithuania through diplomatic channels. It was an essential milestone, since Lithuania expressed its official wish to become the member of the EU and was formally on the list to be considered as a potential member state seeking to meet the Copenhagen criteria. Another significant step was the free trade agreements between the EU and Baltic countries established in 1993, which were achieved with the great support from Nordics. As Zygimantas Povilionis recalled, when negotiating their own membership before accessing the EU in 1995, Nordics raised the condition for the EU to establish free trade with Baltic states, which in the future might lead to association agreements for Baltic countries.4 The condition was raised since the Nordics wanted their economic partnership with Baltic region to continue after Sweden and Finland became members of the EU in 1995. “It was a CHAPTER 11

205

crucial moment in 1993 when [the] EU decided to establish free trade agreements with Baltic states, which gave the opportunity to lead to the accession to the EU in the future. It was a first sign of hope for the membership gained through the Nordics’ help as well as the sign to our threatening neighbours in the East that the Baltics are moving towards Western Europe. For other countries such as Ukraine, this goal is still not reached until now,” emphasized Mr Povilionis. Free trade agreements between the EU and three Baltic states were officially signed in 1994, and followed by the European Association Agreements in 1995. As the idea of becoming a member of the EU was officially on the table for Lithuania, it was still considered more like an illusion rather than a real geopolitical target. “It was unimaginable goal. Something impossible to dream of and achieve practically,” said Mr Usackas when remembering the ambition of Lithuania to join the European Union. The same impression was presented by diplomat Egidijus Vareikis, who was studying in Geneva at the time and observed the situation from overseas. According to him, this goal of Lithuania’s seemed insane and unreachable to the diplomats and foreign media. Everybody understood that Lithuania needed massive institutional transformation that was not possible to achieve in the short period of time it was planned.5 However, Denmark was the ally that believed in this dream of the EU and proved it practically by taking important steps. Not only did Denmark include Lithuania in the list of potential member states during its presidency of the EU, but it also started active bilateral cooperation. Lithuanian officials stated that Denmark stepped in as a great partner that mentored Lithuania to make this unimaginable dream come true.6 Most of the Lithuanian diplomats interviewed expressed great gratitude to Uffe Ellemann‑Jensen, former Minister for Foreign Affairs of Denmark (1982‑1993), the first Danish Ambassador in Lithuania Dan Nielsen (1991‑1997) and Per Carlsen, Denmark’s Ambassador to Lithuania (1997‑2001). Egidijus Meilunas, advisor to President Valdas Adamkus at the time, remembered Per Carlsen’s frequent visits to the Presidential Palace of Lithuania and his great advice. Appreciation for Per Carlsen and Uffe Ellemann‑Jensen was also expressed by other Lithuanian diplomats, who emphasised their big contribution to Lithuania’s integration with the West. Denmark assisted Lithuania at various levels. Its support and 206

mentorship was visible in different steps ranging from high‑level negotiations in the EU to a local bureaucratic project. There is a need to distinguish a few examples where the close cooperation between Denmark and Lithuania resulted in astonishing results as well as significant steps towards the membership of Lithuania in the EU. Institutional transformation

All potential member states need to transform their institutions and adapt them to make them more suitable for the Western model, but Baltic countries faced the exceptional challenges in terms of these tasks. Lithuania was in an immense transition period after just restoring independence, in which the quality of political and economic institutions was far below the requirements of the EU. Massive efforts from different levels of the Lithuanian government were directed to bring the country closer to the Copenhagen criteria, which needed to be met in order for it to be accepted to the EU. All officials ranging from the highest institutions, namely, president at the time Valdas Adamkus and his team to negotiators in various diplomatic missions as well as bureaucrats in local institutions worked doggedly to achieve this rapid transformation. Institutional changes required great knowledge of how to synchronise Lithuanian policies and governmental rules with those of EU. Denmark delivered its support in various fields by providing both financial development assistance and institutional expertise. One highly effective measure that needs to be mentioned was the FEU programme implemented by the Danish Ministry of Foreign Affairs, which sought to provide pre‑accession assistance to EU candidate countries.7 The FEU programme was established in parallel with the EU decision in 1995 that the Commission would provide technical assistance to the candidate countries for implementation of their pre‑accession strategies and lay the groundwork for bilateral cooperation between member states and candidates. The programme raised the goal of transposing EU law into national law, training civil servants and others involved in the preparation process, and strengthening the capacity of institutions in implementing the legislation and enhancing their administrative systems. It also offered assistance for negotiations, screening processes, CHAPTER 11

207

Evaluation of The Danish Pre‑accession Sector Programme (FEU and FEU+6) 1996‑2000, Main Report, 2001.

review procedures and regular reports to the EU Commission. It was directly linked to the Copenhagen criteria, as its stated mission was to encourage fulfilment of these criteria in potential member states. FEU programme assistance was delivered through involvement of Danish experts and other resources, namely, educational institutions, organisations, and private consultants. Different instruments were used, such as seminars and training courses, scholarships and educational programmers, long‑ or short‑term advisors, and institution‑building support, which resulted in more than 190 projects worth approximately 100 million DKK during the period 1996‑2001.8 Lithuania was the leader among the assisted countries (Estonia, Latvia, Slovakia, Romania, Bulgaria, Hungary, Slovenia, the Czech Republic and Poland) with the highest number of implemented projects (26%) and funds committed (33%) from the FEU. 208

Darius Zeruolis, who was the Director of the European Integration Department in Lithuania at the time and led the strategic transformation of local governmental institutions, praised Denmark for its exceptional model of development cooperation and emphasised its important contribution. According to Mr Zeruolis, the financial development assistance provided by Denmark was highly effective, as it had little bureaucratic burden and none of the cumbersome rules that usually impede the absorption of the support.9 It allowed Lithuania to absorb assistance efficiently and move towards successful institutional transformation. The FEU programme contributed significantly to transforming the institutional environment in Lithuania. An exceptionally effective project Mr Zeruolis mentioned was EuroFaculty, which was established in three universities in the Baltic states (Vilnius, Tartu and Riga) by the Council of the Baltic Sea States (initiated by the former Danish Minister of Foreign Affairs Uffe Ellemann‑Jensen and former Minister of Foreign Affairs of Germany Hans Dietrich Genscher). The faculty focused on creating study programmes in law, economics and political science, which resulted in increased academic cooperation between Nordic and Baltic regions. More importantly, as Gustav N. Kristensen noted in his book Born into a Dream: EuroFaculty and the Council of Baltic Sea States, the faculty encouraged a mental shift of Baltic societies towards the Western model of education as well as understanding of political, economic and legislative processes.10 It is clear that Danish support in the institutional transformation of Lithuania was based on both practical measures aimed at expanding administrative capacities and strategic projects encouraging mental shift in various fields of social and political life. Of no less importance was the role played by Lithuanian officials, with their hard work and immense dedication to the European goal. Even though immense efforts were directed to accomplishing these massive institutional changes, at the Luxembourg European Council in 1997, Lithuanian transformation was evaluated as insufficient, while Estonia was leading among the three Baltic states and seemed to be much more prepared for the membership in the EU.11 The negotiations proceeded with Estonia while Lithuania’s prospects of joining the EU were lower at the time. Mr Meilunas shared the moment when president of Lithuania at the time, Valdas Adamkus, called the president CHAPTER 11

209

of Estonia, Lennart‑Georg Meri, and congratulated him on Estonia’s great results. “But Lithuania will catch up and [we will] join the EU together,” said President Adamkus.12 Lithuanians continued working hard and kept their promise. In 1998, The Europe Agreement between the EU and Lithuania entered into force, and the accession process was formally launched. At the Helsinki European Council in 1999, Lithuania brought outstanding results that proved it was moving towards the Western institutional model much more quickly than expected.13 As the Report from the Commission on Lithuania’s Progress Towards Accession (1999) concluded, Lithuania made significant progress in most areas of political, economic and administrative institutions, and fulfilled the Copenhagen criteria.14 Danish diplomat Poul Skytte Christoffersen remembered the outstanding results Lithuania brought to the Council, which exceeded expectations and hence allowed EU to continue negotiations with the country. According to Mr Christoffersen, Denmark could rely on this argument in persuading other EU members that Lithuania would soon be prepared to join the community.15 During the Helsinki European Council in 1999, the EU decided to open accession negotiations with Lithuania. As the negotiations proceeded, support from Denmark remained strong and visible. Lithuanian diplomat Petras Austrevicius noted that Danish assistance was beneficial not only in transforming internal institutions but also on the EU level while negotiating additional policies, which resulted in important benefits for Lithuania. For example, Danish experts’ consultancy was an exceptional contribution in the field of agriculture, as they helped Lithuania to build strong arguments for agriculture‑related negotiations on the EU level. It led to a good negotiation position for Lithuanians and allowed them to achieve great conditions for agriculture sector and policies. This cooperation between Lithuanian and Danish teams resulted in the creation of an exceptional Baltic agriculture story and the preparation of exemplary arguments, which were later used in negotiations by other Baltic states. “Lithuanian farmers should be grateful to Danish experts for their current great profits and well‑being,” emphasized Mr Austrevicius, Member of the European Parliament.16 It was a win‑win situation for both sides, as the established agriculture policies of Lithuania were beneficial for Denmark and its farmers in a newly opened and growing economy. 210

Lithuania was on the right political, economic and legislative track in respect to the Copenhagen criteria; however, challenges in Lithuania’s journey towards the EU continued as a few complicated strategic aspects of negotiations became evident. Great challenges: Ignalina Nuclear Power Plant and Kaliningrad Territory

One of these challenges was related to the Ignalina Nuclear Power Plant, while the other problematic question was about Kaliningrad transit. Substantial Lithuanian diplomatic efforts were allocated to finding compromises, which were crucial to proceeding with the negotiations. Lithuania was not alone in these challenges as Denmark played its role again. The nuclear power plant based in the Lithuanian town of Ignalina was the same type as Chernobyl, which was considered to be highly unsafe and thus needed to be closed in order for Lithuania to join the EU. However, this decision was highly complicated for Lithuania, as the Ignalina Nuclear Power Plant (INPP) was successfully producing large amount of electricity, which not only guaranteed an internal power supply, but also allowed the country to export electricity. The closure of the last unit of the INPP was a strategically and economically sensitive question in Lithuania for both politicians and society in general. In 1999, after intense negotiations on both internal and external levels, Lithuania came to the decision to decommission the last Unit 1 of INPP in 2005.17 The Report from the Commission on Lithuania’s Progress Towards Accession (1999) congratulated Lithuanians’ decision to close the station and emphasised the country’s significant efforts in the field of energy policy as a major sign of its commitment to European integration.18 Although the decision was reached, it was difficult to implement technically and required massive investments. Negotiations on this matter continued between EU officials and Lithuania, as the latter requested that the EU guarantee its investments and assistance with the closure of the station. Mr Povilionis recalled these negotiations as one of the main obstacles for Lithuania, which was overcome with support from Denmark. The main role played by Danish diplomats was in negotiating the CHAPTER 11

211

financial support from the EU required to close INPP. Mr Christoffersen shared the same memories: “It was a huge challenge to persuade other members and reach the agreement that would guarantee sufficient funds for closing Ignalina Nuclear Power Plant. We did our best in seeking the investments from the EU, which allowed to overcome this obstacle and proceed with negotiations for Lithuania’s membership.”19 Therefore, Danish officials played a significant role in mediating negotiations related to funding for the closure of INPP and, together with Lithuanian officials, reached the agreement between Lithuania and the EU. In 2000, a donor conference co‑chaired by the Lithuanian government and the European Commission took place in Lithuania, which resulted in the establishment of the International Decommissioning Support Fund. The fund was granted by the European Commission and bilateral funds from separate member states, including Denmark.20 In 2001, the Ignalina International Decommissioning Support Fund (IIDSF) entered into force and provided more than 750 million EUR in financial support.21 Another challenge was the transit in the Russian territory Kaliningrad, which was a highly sensitive question to Russia due to its deployment of missile systems and the area’s vital position as an element of Russia’s power in the Baltic region. Kaliningrad city is located by the Western border of Lithuania and accessible only by crossing Lithuanian territory. Lithuania’s accession to the EU meant that its territory became a part of Schengen zone, which resulted in difficulties for Russia not only in the sense of its military deployment but also in terms of the Schengen visa required for Russian citizens travelling to Kaliningrad through Lithuania. The complicated issue of Kaliningrad caused heated debates among Lithuanian, Russian and EU officials, as the case was unprecedented and thus required a clever as well as legally appropriate solution. Lithuanian diplomats recalled huge diplomatic efforts mobilised from Lithuania as well as foreign allies to solve the issue of Kaliningrad. Mr Povilionis noted the involvement of other foreign allies, namely Germany and the UK, which contributed to the negotiations. However, Denmark’s role as mediators in the negotiations of this matter was also emphasized by both Lithuanian and Danish officials. Mr Christoffersen remembered the Kaliningrad issue as a great challenge in which former 212

The Ignalina Nuclear Power Plant was successfully producing large amount of electricity for Lithuania, and the closing of the power plant was a strategically and economically sensitive question in Lithuania for both politicians and society in general. Photo: Pexels

Danish prime minister Anders Fogh Rasmussen was greatly involved. According to Mr Christoffersen, he negotiated on this matter directly with Vladimir Putin and somehow managed to reach the compromise.22 The issue was solved, and a unique traveling scheme based on temporary transit visa was created, allowing Lithuania to proceed with negotiations. As almost all obstacles were overcome, Lithuania was getting closer to the EU membership. In 2002, the European Commission recommended the conclusion of accession negotiations with candidate countries by the end of 2002, and foresaw the beginning of their membership in 2004. In 2003, Citizens of Lithuania expressed their support for the membership in a referendum, and the European Parliament adopted a report giving the green light to the accession of Lithuania and other candidate countries. The Accession Treaty entered into force in 2004 and Lithuania joined the EU together with nine other countries., marking the EU’s biggest enlargement. Great challenges of internal institutional transformation as well as internationally significant questions such as the Kaliningrad territory and the closure of Ignalina Nuclear Power Plant were conquered. Memories CHAPTER 11

213

shared by Lithuanian and Danish officials as well as various reports and policy documents revealed significant footprints of Lithuanian‑Danish cooperation. It is clear that this friendship contributed profoundly to Lithuania’s membership in the EU, which seemed an unimaginable goal at the beginning. The cooperation occurred in all dimensions ranging from the highest‑level diplomatic negotiations to development assistance in specific fields of administration or education. Stories shared by interviewees implied that the partnership emerged “naturally”, yet what is more hiding behind this Lithuania‑Denmark relationship that connected two allies so strongly? COMMON GROUND FOR COOPERATION: STRATEGIC BENEFITS AND EMOTIONAL ATTACHMENTS Mutual Geopolitical Interests

As the Soviet Union collapsed in 1991, the geopolitical destiny of three Baltic countries became a highly important question for Nordics due to their regional closeness. At the same time, the Baltics had to decide whether they would stand alone alongside their great threat Russia or join the family of Western Europe, which meant seeking for the membership in EU and NATO. The decision was not difficult to make: Lithuania, Latvia and Estonia turned their geopolitical orientation towards Western Europe in order to stand stronger against their former occupier Russia. The unfilled area of cooperation with the Baltic region opened up. The Nordics understood its strategic importance and immediately engaged in this space by mentoring and encouraging the successful integration of their Baltic neighbours. The membership of Lithuania, Latvia and Estonia in the EU was highly promising in terms of political and economic benefits for the region. After the hard‑won restoration of independence from Russian occupation, Lithuania understood the importance of moving its geopolitical orientation towards the West. At the same time, the Nordics wanted their Baltic neighbours to be politically and economically stable, as well as to establish common principles for future cooperation. As Mr Povilionis noted, the Nordics were interested in creating a geopolitical 214

buffer from Russia and enlarging EU towards the Baltic region, which would result in its political stability.23 Pragmatic interests are basis of nearly all examples of international cooperation, and the case of Denmark and Lithuania is no exception. According to Mr Meilunas, the membership of Lithuania and other Baltic countries also strengthened the Nordics’ position in the EU as they acquired new partners with whom greater goals of Nordic and Baltic regions could be achieved at the higher level.24 Mr Austrevicius also emphasised pragmatic interests by noting Denmark’s economic potential, as Lithuania was a newly emerging market where promising partnerships could be established. Denmark saw the importance of Baltic regional cooperation and the potential of allies’ membership in the EU in creating both a politically safer neighbourhood and great economic opportunities. At the same time, Lithuania had a chance to learn and receive expertise from a country with well‑functioning institutions and great diplomatic capabilities. Both sides having their own pragmatic benefits laid the groundwork for common direction and determination to overcome all obstacles in order to achieve Lithuania’s membership in the EU.

Copenhagen European Council, Copenhagen, 12–13 December 2002. Anders Fogh Rasmussen, the Danish Prime Minister at that time, held a speech on the progress of enlarging the European Union to include several of the former Soviet countries. Copyright: European Community

CHAPTER 11

215

However, diplomats’ memories also give the impression that this was not the only component of Lithuania‑Denmark cooperation success story. This friendship needs an additional explanation, which emerges in terms of the more affective and emotional dimension of the Denmark‑Lithuania relationship. Affective dimension: emotional experiences, sympathies and personal friendships

“We are always looking for rational explanations to understand political cooperation. But sometimes there is a strong emotional factor hiding, sympathy or love that drives this friendship. The case of Lithuania and Denmark proves it perfectly,” stated Mr Vareikis.25 The idea attracted more attention as it emerged in other stories and memories of those who were involved in Lithuania’s preparation for the EU. Diplomats’ personal attitudes and attachments undoubtedly affect the environment and energy of diplomatic cooperation. Mr Usackas, who was one of the main actors in negotiating Lithuania’s membership, shared stories of how the friendship with Danish diplomats was developed from his personal perspective. Besides participating in intense negotiations and diplomatic procedures, Mr Usackas emphasised the importance of open appeal to Denmark that he developed through years. He praised former Danish Minister of Foreign affairs Uffe Ellemann‑Jensen and his great contribution in mentoring Lithuania as well as efforts to encourage Denmark to recognise the restored independence of Lithuania. “I remember I felt personal gratitude for his exceptional attention to Lithuania, due to which I decided to involve in his local political campaign,”26 said Mr Usackas. His support for Lithuania was a beautiful symbol that inspired Lithuanian diplomats to admire Denmark and believe in future cooperation. Another symbolic relationship developed by Mr Usackas was with the Danish Royal Family. The Lithuanian diplomat remembered his acquaintance with the Prince Frederik as he was studying for his PhD in Denmark: “It was a beautiful coincidence that he was my course mate, and we managed to continue this beautiful friendship ever since. His personal attention and royal visits to Lithuania were a very important symbolic sign of Danish support for Lithuania.” Collective historical memory related to Danish support for 216

Lithuania’s independence and non‑recognition of Soviet occupation emerged as another significant aspect of the emotional dimension in this friendship. Not only did Denmark not admit the Soviet occupation of Lithuania, but it was also the second country after Iceland to recognise Lithuania’s independence in March 1991. These historical steps resulted in personal respect from Lithuanian diplomats and in mutual trust, which contributed to more sympathetic cooperative energy. According to Mr Austrevicius, it became natural to see Denmark as a strongly important ally from both perspectives of mutual values and strategic interests. Common values and geopolitical direction developed historically through time as both countries had similar attitudes towards various issues in international politics. As the official negotiations on the EU level started, this previously established friendship and symbolic support resulted in intuitive trust and more friendly rather than official communication between Danish and Lithuanian diplomats. Mr Usackas recalled that he was frequently consulting with Danish officials and always turning to them for advice related to various matters, ranging from specific technical issues to the wide questions of European norms and values. Denmark was always ready to help and cooperated willingly. Such friendly communication was also noted by other officials: “Communication with Danish colleagues were always more friendly rather than official, and it definitely facilitated our cooperation. It was probably due to the similarities in identity and values,” said Mr Austrevicius.27 Impressions of strong personal relationships and friendly interaction between Lithuania and Denmark was also expressed on the Danish side. Mr Christoffersen remembered his surprise when he was approached by many social groups, which were personally related to the Baltic states and had strong individual connections there. “There were also very vivid and close people‑to‑people relationships. I found it very striking by how many different groups had strong relationships in Baltic countries and felt personal about their integration.”28 Mr Christoffersen noted that economic interests were also one of the main reasons for this cooperation; however, the personal connections and people‑to‑people relationships were just as important. Stories from those who participated closely in negotiations mention the strategic benefits of Lithuania’s membership in the EU for both sides; however, intuitive attachment as well as naturally developed informal CHAPTER 11

217

friendship emerged as a crucial element in this relationship. Although the commitment to strong cooperation between Denmark and Lithuania was manifested in a wide range of official programmes, policies and agreements, most interviewed officials also emphasised the personal sympathies and unofficial manner of communication between Lithuanian and Danish diplomats. Bilateral likeness and mutual identification facilitated the communication between Lithuania and Denmark, which possibly allowed the allies to appear strong in the EU‑level negotiations as well as to implement accession‑related official programmes effectively. Therefore, aspects such as mutual trust and respect developed through history, common values as well as diplomats’ personal experiences and attachments reveal the emotional and affective dimension of the Denmark‑Lithuania friendship. Rational interests related to security issues and a politically stable neighbourhood served as strong foundation, but this affective relationship, developed through human connections and symbolic friendships, was of no less importance to a successful Lithuania‑Denmark friendship. CONCLUSION: MAKING AN UNBELIEVABLE DREAM COME TRUE “Denmark’s role was crucial in the biggest EU enlargement including Lithuania, which symbolically started in Copenhagen from 1993 and was concluded also in Copenhagen in 2002,” said Mr Austrevicius. Not only did it mark the unprecedented and challenging journey of EU enlargement, but it also contributed greatly to making this “unimaginable dream” of Lithuania’s membership become true. Memories shared by diplomats allow us to understand this exceptional friendship between Lithuania and Denmark in more depth as well as to perceive the importance of the role played by Danish officials. Lithuania managed to go through immense transformations of political and economic institutions in a short period of time and overcame specific challenges related to the closure of Ignalina Nuclear Power Plant and the Kaliningrad territory. At first perceived as an unimaginable goal, the membership of Lithuania in the EU became a reality due to great efforts from Lithuanian and Danish officials inspired not only 218

by strategic interests but also by personal and emotional relationships between two allies. Geopolitical interests related to allies’ security and economic goals, as well as common attitudes towards Russia and other international issues, were necessary for cooperative efforts, especially Lithuania’s integration into Western Europe. The economic and security benefits brought by Baltics’ membership in the EU was another factor that encouraged Denmark to contribute so strongly to this enlargement. However, these structural reasons do not describe the full picture and thus are not sufficient to explain this exceptional success story. Important factors are hidden at a more individual level covering diplomats’ personal sympathies and positive attitudes that emerged historically due to the symbolic acts of political support by Denmark and common values. Such aspects reveal the affective dimension of this friendship based on diplomats’ personal and emotional experiences rather than only rational strategic interests. They were sufficiently important aspects, which profoundly facilitated the cooperation among Lithuanian and Danish officials by creating a mutual trust‑based environment. Therefore, two allies were pushed towards close cooperation not only by structural factors such as strategic interests and political or economic benefits but also by affective and emotion‑based characteristics of this friendship, as revealed at the individual level by the actors involved. Lithuania’s membership in the EU and its rapidly transformed political environment became an exceptional success story, showing how strong dedication and hard work could lead to great geopolitical results. Most interviewed officials admitted that during this period, Lithuania received great lessons from Denmark on related regional cooperation processes, which are now successfully transferred to its own development cooperation projects with Eastern Partnership countries. Lithuanians expressed gratitude and admiration for Denmark due to its comprehensive assistance; however, some worries about unused cooperation potential were also evident. Officials noted that this strong friendship manifested in the journey to Lithuania’s membership did not continue in such a close manner after the Lithuania joined the EU. As Denmark and Lithuania mark the beautiful anniversary of 100 years of diplomatic relationships, officials expressed their hopes of refreshing this exceptional partnership and make the best of it in dealing with new challenges of the global situation. CHAPTER 11

219

Darius Žeruolis, former Director of the Integration Strategy Department of the European Committee of the Government of Lithuania; Egidijus Meilūnas, former advisor to the President Valdas Adamkus; Egidijus Vareikis, former advisor to the Minister of Foreign Affairs of Lithuania; Petras Auštrevičius, former Director of the European Committee of the Government of Lithuania, Chief negotiator in the negotiations on Lithuania’s membership in the EU; Poul Skytte Christoffersen, former Danish Ambassador to the European Union; Vygaudas Ušackas, Chief negotiator in the negotiations on Lithuania’s membership in the EU, advisor in the Mission of Lithuania to the EU and NATO; Žygimantas Povilionis, former Chief of Political Cooperation Division of the Department of European Integration, advisor in the Mission of Lithuania to the EU.

220

CHAPTER 12

DANISH-LITHUANIAN BUSINESS LINKS THROUGH 30 YEARS – FROM ADVENTURISM TO INTEGRATED PARTNERSHIPS By Maria Oien, Danish Journalist Built on interviews with directors, managers, and businessmen, Maria Oien describes how the business links between Lithuania and Denmark have evolved over the last 30 years – from the very first pioneers who came to Lithuania to the comprehensive business relations of today. Despite bumps on the road, the business links have become thoroughly integrated and profitable. The two countries are now partners on the international business stage.

During the past 30 years, business, trade and industry have played a big part in the development of the present-day close relationship between Lithuania and Denmark. From the very beginning of Lithuania’s regained independence, Denmark has sought to contribute to Lithuania’s impressive transformation from a Soviet republic to a stable, European economy with a well-functioning business sector. The bilateral business partnership has grown bigger and stronger over time. The similarities, as well as the differences, between the two countries’ economies have helped the partnership to grow strong. In this chapter, we will look at the character, as well as the ups and downs, of the business and trade links between Denmark and Lithuania from a Danish perspective. The bottom line is that the two countries have become highly integrated and interdependent through trade, investments and labour movements, which has benefitted them both. This is the CHAPTER 12

221

message you get from interviewing some of the Danish businessmen and observers living in Lithuania, who have been important partners during the 30-year period that we celebrate in 2021. Thirty years is a long period to describe, and it is not an easy task to cover all aspects, but the many Danes and Lithuanians who have contributed through interviews (see references) have helped identify different trends and developments. Their great knowledge of, dedication to and interest in the Danish-Lithuanian business links have been very valuable. This also applies to the Danish Chamber of Commerce in Lithuania. A NEW WORLD OPENED UP Whilst being a part of the Soviet Union, Lithuanians could only buy a small selection of consumer goods. They could not travel or start private businesses. With independence in 1991, a new world opened up for Lithuania. Suddenly, trade with the entire world was possible. A lot of energy was released, and it created a boom in demand for the many consumer goods that had previously been unattainable. “Suddenly it was possible to do business and a whole new world of business opened. At least 1.5 million people were turned into keen consumers, and they wanted to buy everything we had in Denmark. Clothes, fish, pork, and of course electronic equipment like B&O systems,” Kim Bartholdy says. He arrived in Lithuania in 1994, and was one of the first Danes in Vilnius, where he helped start up the local branch of DFDS. Today, he is the managing director of DSV Lithuania. Also, the world literally opened with flights from Vilnius to Europe. Ruta Juciene, now Global Key Account Manager Europe of SAS in Lithuania, was working at SAS when the first flight from Vilnius to Copenhagen took off 29 years ago. “The embassy played a huge role in those years, because the open sky did not exist for us Lithuanians. We needed a governmental agreement to have permission to fly. At that point, the Danish embassy and Ambassador Dan Nielsen made all the negotiations. That was very important for us,” Ruta Juciene says. It also helped that the Danish diplomat Michael Metz Mørch, who later became ambassador in Riga, was working at SAS in Stockholm at the time, pushing for the new routes to open quickly. 222

Dan Nielsen, who served as the first resident Danish ambassador to Lithuania from 1991 to 1997, did not only play a big role in encouraging flights in and out of Lithuania. He also made sure to put people on the aeroplanes by actively drawing on his wide business network of people who were willing and interested in exploring the new opportunities that opened up. He was one of the most active figures in expanding business cooperation between Denmark and Lithuania during the first years. The business links also had a political dimension, Dan Nielsen explains. The initial way of integrating Lithuania into Europe was to establish business links to Western countries. The way to do that was by getting Danish, German, and French businesses to establish subsidiaries and production in Lithuania. These foreign companies provided a first kind of political safety net. If something were to happen – for example, if Russia were to show serious aggression towards the newly independent Baltic states once again – then Russia would have to take into consideration that European economic assets would be part of the mix. Russia had to consider the reaction if these assets were to be lost or threatened. This initial safety net was an important motivation in establishing business links and trade between Denmark and Lithuania. In interviews, both Lithuanian and Danish interlocutors often mentioned that they believed there was a tacit agreement among the Nordic states that each took a special lead in assisting one of the Baltic states in its transformation process. Many Lithuanians had the impression that Denmark was focussing its help on Lithuania, while Sweden was providing more help to Latvia, and Finland was especially concentrating on Estonia. Although this has never been explicitly agreed among the Nordic states, and despite the fact that Denmark provided substantial support to each of the Baltic states, this perceived division of labour played a role in reinforcing the positive image of the special relationship between Lithuania and Denmark in many different fields of activity. THE FIRST DANISH ENTREPRENEURS The market conditions that the first-mover businesses met in Lithuania were much different from those in Denmark. Many have described the first years as “the Wild West” due to the lack of market rules and formal CHAPTER 12

223

regulation. The unprecedented situation attracted many entrepreneurs. Not all of them were successful. Some of the first Danes were described as “adventurers” and “mavericks” –people who sought adventurous, and sometimes untraditional, ways of doing business. These young and energetic Danish businessmen wanted to do something different in life. For some, it was a chance to get into a market with little competition. There were obvious business opportunities for both new start-ups and subsidiaries of existing companies. Denmark and the other European countries could freely sell all types of goods in all the new marketplaces in Eastern Europe, and not least in the Baltic states that decided to choose a very liberal and open market economy from the outset. Due to the strong political partnership between Denmark and Lithuania, big Danish brands such as Rockwool, Danfoss and Novo Nordisk were soon part of Lithuanian society. Consumer products from the likes of LEGO, Anthon Berg, Pandora and Carlsberg were quickly to be found in Lithuanian stores. One of the biggest companies that entered the market early on was DFDS. The Danish transportation company could easily see a large potential in establishing its business in Lithuania, which had the well-located harbour in Klaipeda and borders with Russia, Poland and Latvia. The possibilities for transporting goods were many. Over the years, the transport and logistics sector has grown strong in Lithuania, and many Danish companies are well placed in the Lithuanian market. Several agriculture companies and forestry businesses, like Hedeselskabet, also established their businesses in Lithuania in the years after 1991, as Lithuania’s primary natural asset in the beginning was timber. As about 30 per cent of the country was covered by forests, and it was evident that this became a big export item. Later, it was not only timber, but also wood elements for furniture that attracted attention. Furniture companies like Jakobsen Home, InWood, and Baltic Sofa, which are in Lithuania today, came downstream from this industry. Textile and furniture manufacturers like Bee-Com were established at the time. They all started production in Lithuania in the early 1990s and later became the major brands in their respective market niches. Asked why they chose Lithuania instead of neighbouring Poland or Latvia, Steen Lynggaard, the managing director of Bee-Com, answers that everybody spoke well about Lithuania even before Bee-Com started 224

exploring the possibilities on its own. It was not like Central Europe, for instance Poland, where wages would rise fast. Transport of goods from and to Lithuania was easy. Ships already sailed from Klaipeda then, creating convenient and fast connections to Denmark. Most frequently, Danish businessmen highlight the quality of the Lithuanian workforce, its educational level, the infrastructure and the fact that Danes and Lithuanians communicate easily. A sign that the Lithuanian workforce is highly valued by Danish business might be found in the fact that Lithuanian workers are sought-after both inside and outside Denmark. Lithuanians have thus become one of the biggest contributors to the labour force in Denmark. From 2008, the number of Lithuanians employed in Denmark rose substantially, from 5,000 to over 18,000 at present. Likewise, the approximately 320 Danish-owned companies in Lithuania today employ more than 15,000 Lithuanians. DANISH ADVISORS IN THE MINISTRIES To make a turnaround from being a former Soviet republic with a long list of restrictions in private, social, economic and political life to being a free country with a liberal market economy was quite a task for Lithuania to accomplish. Today, we can only admire the results. There was a huge need for exchanging knowledge, information and best practice to make rapid moves away from the Soviet past.

CHAPTER 12

225

Part of this process was to integrate into the EU’s Internal Market with its complex set of rules and regulations, and at the same time, to improve competitiveness while withstanding the economic pressures from other members. On top of this, the public sector, which had been under occupation for 50 years, needed a serious overhaul. For that purpose, the European Commission and EU countries like Denmark helped to find and select advisors who could provide technical assistance to the different ministries and authorities. The purpose of the advisors was to help establish a well-functioning framework for the growing business sector and to develop a public sector that had the administrative capacity to align its legislation to that of the EU. This work became a top priority right from the beginning of the 1990s. “Lithuania could not attract noteworthy foreign investments without a well-functioning public sector. It needed a framework,” Michael Kümmel says. Kümmel worked as advisor within the education sector and helped create a modern and forward-looking educational system both for young people at the universities and for Lithuanians already in the workforce who needed to further their education. Among the many advisors that came to Lithuania to provide technical assistance in the different sectors was Kai Kristoffersen, who worked at the Ministry of Finance, assisting in setting up the framework for the banking sector. Morten Søndergaard helped set up a more suitable energy landscape, and Jens Skrumsager helped with the agroindustry framework. They all stayed as advisors for a longer period of time and were able to see first-hand the overwhelming changes and results that Lithuania was able to accomplish. Looking back at his time as an advisor, Michael Kümmel emphasises the assistance provided to set up actuarial education. Actuarial science is the mathematics behind the insurance business. Such education did not exist at the time, but was very important in many fields, including as a basis for developing a proper tax collection system. Similarly, Danish civil servants, representing almost all Danish ministries in central government, were frequent visitors in Lithuania. The advisors in Lithuania were able to draw on their experience and use these colleagues as sources of information and inspiration in many cases, such as when they gave lectures in Lithuania. This meant that 226

the number of civil servants who were in contact with their Lithuanian counterparts was very high leading up to 2004 when the EU enlargement finally took place. An important element in providing successful technical assistance was also the ability to introduce non-governmental organisations such as the Confederation of Danish Industry (DI) and KL – Local Government Denmark, which were both ready to reach out to their respective Lithuanian counterparts. DI and the late CEO Hans Skov Christensen reached out very early to the Lithuanian Confederation of Industrialists (LPK), which was already established in 1989, and developed regular contacts. The two organisations are both members of Business Europe, based in Brussels. For several years, DI provided office space for its Lithuanian sister organisation in Brussels, thereby facilitating Lithuanian integration into wider European business circles. The Baltic Development Forum, based in Copenhagen, also contributed to cross-sector contacts. ADAPTING TO DIFFERENCES IN BUSINESS CULTURE The first Danes doing business in Lithuania experienced a very different culture and society than they were used to in Denmark. Some of the very first business experiences were brutal for the Lithuanians, and were linked to the fact that Danish businessmen were driven primarily by profit rather than by cooperation. The market approach sometimes clashed with the image of the helpful and cooperative Dane. The illustrative example often mentioned is the Danish investment in the Lithuanian sugar industry. The company Danisco invested in four Lithuanian factories and refineries in the late 1990s. Later, it turned out that the main interest and the business model was not to modernise the old factories, but to close them down due to the huge need to restructure the European sugar industry. According to the company, the decision was motivated by the fact that the industry was regulated by the EU’s common agricultural policy, which operated with difficult sugar quotas and tariffs, especially for countries outside the EU. Many Lithuanians felt that this outcome was a breach of trust. The case even ended up in CHAPTER 12

227

Lithuania’s Constitutional Court, which passed a ruling stating that the acquisition was not handled correctly. However, there was nothing to do to change the situation on the ground. The market economy had its own logic. Another example is linked to the Danish pig farms that came to Lithuania. To some, these farms did not have the charming smell of modern business. In recent years, however, these objections have rarely been heard. Although the smell is the same more is done to reduce the negative side effects of the industry. These examples are exceptions to the general rule that Danish investments have been welcomed, and that the Danish approach to company management and leadership is appreciated. This includes the less hierarchical organisational structure, which is often introduced, and the wide delegation of responsibility to individual employees, as well as the high level of trust that is shown to the staff. These are some of the keywords mentioned in interviews. Few want to return to the authoritarian type of management that characterised the (Soviet) past. Other types of differences created challenges for the first Danish businesses in Lithuania. As part of the Soviet legacy, corruption and the grey economy were common features that have been difficult to handle and eradicate. Despite steady progress, the grey or shadow economy is still large, according to the European Commission. In the early years, Danish businessmen in the farming industry and textile business, for instance, experienced that customs officers wanted bribes to let trucks with goods pass. Most Danish companies refused to pay. Consequently, their trucks were held up at customs for days or even weeks, as Claus Baltersen, former director at the pig farming company Idavang, explains: The first truck the company sent from Denmark in 1999 to their new farm in Lithuania was held up for weeks at customs, because the officers allegedly kept finding errors in the customs papers. Finally, after several weeks, the officers gave in and let the trucks go to the farm. At that point, more trucks had arrived, and they were all kept for long hours at customs. Later that year, colleagues from Idavang sent a bottle of cognac and some chocolate, wishing the customs officers a Merry Christmas. The relationship improved after that, and soon the trucks were only checked by the officers at the very driveway of the farm. 228

Today, very few Danish companies experience or report corruption that has a direct negative impact on their ability to do business, although it and other irregularities do influence the competitiveness of the market negatively. Employees working in Danish companies know that payments ‘under the table’ are not part of modern business. On the contrary, transparency is appreciated. BUSINESS CONSULTANCY As the local production, consumer demand and capitalist economy in general began to grow in Lithuania, so did the demand for financial services, insurance, and accounting. The initial political and economic stability created the foundation for developing the private sector in these service fields. The rise of foreign businesses and investors, as well as the growth of Lithuanian businesses in the first years of the rebirth of Lithuania, further increased the need for consultancy, financial, insurance and accounting services. Several Danish and Scandinavian accountants saw possibilities in the Lithuanian market. Foreign companies were interested in investing, but they were often cautious, since it was difficult to estimate the asset value of the companies they wanted to acquire. To facilitate foreign direct investments, it was strategically important to attract the interest of internationally renowned accountant companies like PriceWaterhouseCoopers, Ernst&Young and KPMG, which eventually decided to establish themselves in Lithuania. KPMG Denmark sent Leif Rene Hansen, who was one of the first foreign accountants in Lithuania. When he started reaching out to Lithuanian companies, he often met scepticism towards accounting in general. “I visited a company, and I was introduced to the female chief accountant of the company, and suddenly she started to cry. I didn’t feel like I had said or done anything to make her cry. But the director later told me what had happened,” Leif Rene Hansen tells. “At that time, the only accountants that people knew were the ones from the tax authorities. And they did not use just a day or two on their accountancy work. Here, it could easily take three or five months, and they stayed until they found any mistake. Then, when they did, CHAPTER 12

229

the company’s chief accountant got a fine because there was a mistake. The job was not easy.” Starting an accounting business in Lithuania was not an easy task either. In the Soviet system, accounting was not a big part of the company structure, mainly because the companies were all stateowned. The number of personnel educated in accounting was very limited. Therefore, every Friday afternoon, after a long week, Leif Rene Hansen taught his employees accounting. It was necessary to get the business rolling. These experiences seem to have been common for Danish companies operating in many different business sectors in Lithuania at that time. As well as developing the business, the new Danish managers also served as mentors on various levels. They used resources on teaching the English language, accounting, or modern best practices – modern farming in the agricultural sector, for instance – but also general management with both feet on the ground. This was necessary to develop the workforce and unleash its full potential. THE EFFECT OF RUSSIA’S ECONOMIC CRASH Up until 1998, many Danish companies like DFDS went to Lithuania because they saw opportunities in having a Baltic “hub” close to the Russian border. That gave easy access to the vast Russian market. For some businessmen, the wider Russian market was the key driver for coming to Lithuania. This approach was not new – it was also widely applied by Danish businesses in the 1920s when Lithuania gained independence (see chapter 2). Both in the 1920s and the 1990s, the Russian market was turbulent due to the political changes unfolding. A way to reduce uncertainty and risk was to establish your business in the neighbouring countries. Later on, when the political uncertainty was reduced, this “hub strategy” was mainly abandoned. The companies realised that to truly become successful, they had to concentrate fully either on the Lithuanian or the Russian market. When Russia was on the verge of bankruptcy in 1998, many Danish companies situated in Lithuania lost export revenues. It created huge liquidity problems in several companies that received the biggest part 230

of their income from Russia – especially in the food and transportation sectors. This meant, for instance, that DFDS, which had successfully developed its business on the Russian market, suddenly had to fire half of its employees, according to Kim Bartholdy, former CEO of DFDS Transport, today DSV in Lithuania. “When Russia went almost bankrupt in 1998, the Russians stopped buying goods from one day to another. Our phones simply stopped ringing,” he added. Not only did the trade volume fall, but the banks also had huge problems. Many of them tried to solve their liquidity problems by pushing the deposit interest rates up. Those were tough years for everyone in Lithuania, as Russia was traditionally a significant trade partner for the country. Even today, the trade volume is important, although it is much lower than in 1998. The crisis in Russia meant that all the bigger companies, who had set their eyes on the new markets in the Baltic hubs, had to look for other export markets. MERGING BUSINESSES It was also in the late 1990s that the big Danish acquisitions of Lithuanian companies happened. At that time, the economy in Lithuania was stable, and the Danish businesses trusted the local market more. The growth rates were impressive, and the Baltic states were nicknamed the “Baltic Tigers”. The Baltic governments were eager and determined to radically change their societies, and it paid off. In 1997, A.P. Møller bought Baltija Shipyard in Klaipeda through Odense Staalskibsværft. The shipyard had about 1,500 employees, and it was a big expansion for A.P. Møller (sold to the Estonian company BLRT Group in 2010). The acquisitions in the late 1990s also took place in the food sector. Danisco took over the previously mentioned four sugar factories in Lithuania, and in 1999, Carlsberg merged with Svyturys-Utenos Alus, one of Lithuania’s most famous beer brands. The company’s market share rose from 22 percent to 27.6 percent in the first year. Also, the second-largest beer brand in Denmark, Royal Unibrew, acquired the breweries Vilniaus Tauras and Kalnapilis in 2001. The Lithuanian brewing business still has a strong Danish footprint today. CHAPTER 12

231

Suddenly, Denmark was on the very top of the list of foreign direct investor countries – a title it has hardly earned anywhere else in the world. Several of the Danish companies that operate in Lithuania today were mergers with or takeovers of Lithuanian companies. Some merged later than others, but they all saw opportunities in combining the structure of well-funded companies in Denmark with hard-working production companies in Lithuania. Many Danish businessmen also saw an opportunity to strengthen their own businesses via the market in Lithuania. For example, the Danish telecommunications company Tele Denmark acquired Lithuanian Bité, a big operator, which was later sold to a private equity fund. The Danish insurance company Codan won the bidding on the biggest Lithuanian company in the sector at that time, Lietuvos Draudimas. Codan was later sold to a British company, which vended the Lithuanian company. Rising Danish salaries were among the main reasons for Danish companies to move part of their production to Lithuania, and the new subsidiaries helped Lithuanian businesses grow and expand their product lines. For example, Steen Lynggaard from Bee-Com explained that initially, the company bought many of its materials and fabrics outside of Lithuania because the local textile business was not strong in new designs and trends. If Bee-Com wanted patterned fabric, it needed to buy it elsewhere. Over the years, the product line in Lithuania grew into what it is today, allowing for more quality materials and fabrics to be produced in Lithuania. The ties between the two countries grew a lot stronger during these years in the late 1990s. Of course, there were some mismatches among the many mergers and acquisitions that took place, but overall, Lithuania has been welcoming of and has benefitted from Danish investments. For most Danish investors, investing in Lithuania has been a success. Initial investments are often followed up by further expansion plans and additional capital investment. GROWING THE NORDIC BANKING SECTOR It was at that time that the Nordic bank Nordea hired the Danish Managing Director, Steen Trondhjem Nielsen, who arrived in Vilnius 232

The new headquarters of Danske Bank in Vilnius, which opened in 2020. Danske Bank has over 4000 employees in Lithuania. Photo: Danske Bank, Lithuania

in 2004. Nearly all large Nordic banks had established themselves in the Baltics by then. They too saw the possibilities in the new markets, and big corporations such as Swedbank, SEB and Nordea had arrived in the Baltics in the early 2000s. Even today, the Scandinavian banks fill up most of the banking sector in Lithuania, creating less flexibility in the country, because the sector is tied up to the Danish, Swedish and Finnish economy. Before Steen Trondhjem Nielsen arrived, both Finns and Norwegians had run Nordea’s branch in Lithuania. The job for Steen Trondhjem Nielsen, as the new managing director, was to increase Nordea’s market share and become the fourth or third biggest bank in Lithuania. And even though that was a challenging task, he was glad that he was given the opportunity. “If you could not create growth in a bank in those years, you would never be able to do it. It was a fantastic time to be in the Lithuanian banking sector,” Steen Trondhjem Nielsen says. Foreign investments increased massively after Lithuania became an EU member. Even though the amount of investment increased gradually, the investments took an especially large jump upwards from CHAPTER 12

233

2004 to 2006. Also, the credit and loans for the housing market was very generous in these years, which meant that a bubble was starting to grow. According to numbers from Baltic News Service in 2006, foreign investments in Lithuania reached 2.79 billion litas – the local currency at that time – which corresponded to about 80 million euros. This was an increase of about 30 percent compared to 2004. Around 2005, Danske Bank also took its first steps into the Baltics. In 2006, the Danish bank bought the Finnish Sampo Bank, which controlled bank branches in Finland and the three Baltic states. Although Danske Bank since sold all its banking activities in the Baltic region, the bank is still one of the biggest workplaces in Lithuania. Today, almost 4,100 people are working in the shared service centre of Danske Bank in Vilnius. From here, they are, among other things, controlling the back offices of Danske Bank in 12 countries and developing complex fintech solutions. For instance, the successful MobilePay application is largely developed in Lithuania. Besides Danske Bank, other big companies in the field of fintech are growing in Lithuania these years. Numbers from the European Banking Authority shows that Vilnius was the largest fintech hub in the EU in 2020, and the number of operating fintech companies was above 200. The bank sector in Lithuania is moving fast. It is a clear illustration of the fact that the Danish-Lithuanian business links have moved up in value. The Lithuanian contribution to innovation, development and design inside Danish companies is increasing. The value chains between the two countries have become much more diverse. NEW MEMBER OF THE EU When Lithuania became a part of the EU in 2004, it created a second wave of new business in the country. With EU membership, the framework conditions of the internal market became transparent and well known, which reduced the risk-taking and increased business confidence. It also led to a boost in the number of Lithuanians living and working in the rest of the European Union. In Denmark, the number rose from 1,554 in 2002 to 3,098 in 2007. Additionally, the export 234

of goods from Denmark to Lithuania rose from DKK 1.8 million in 2004 to DKK 3.3 million in 2006. Still, the new EU rules demanded new trading procedures for the companies, and it was a substantial burden for some companies to adjust. While some of the interviewees for this chapter remember that time as a good and productive period, Kim Bartholdy, who by then had become managing director at DSV in Lithuania, remembers that the transportation sector experienced a small decrease in revenue. “We had to make declarations for import, export, and transits on behalf of our customers – and we had one employee dedicated only to handling the paperwork, so it was a profitable business for us. When we joined the EU, much of the paperwork disappeared, and we lost that revenue,” Kim Bartholdy told. Yet, he emphasizes that it was a small price to pay, which was quickly compensated. When Lithuania joined the EU, the trade numbers went only one way, and that was up. A lot of the paperwork was gone, so it became both cheaper and easier to trade within the EU. Many companies gained from the EU membership. Lithuanian consumers became wealthier, which created a better consumption flow in the private sector, and which again led to increased economic growth. It was around the year of 2004 that the furniture company Jakobsen Home became fully established in Lithuania. CEO Esben Jakobsen still found that the country and its economy had changed since the ‘90s. Becoming part of the EU had pushed Lithuania forward and into much more equal conditions compared to Denmark and the other EU countries. COMMITTED TO GETTING THROUGH THE CRISIS The growth euphoria in Lithuania did not last forever. In 2008, the financial crisis hit Europe and Lithuania. The Baltic countries experienced the hardest recessions in Europe due to both the bursting of their domestic housing bubbles and the global overheating of the economy – close to 15 per cent of GDP was lost in just one year. In 2006 and 2007, the economy was boiling both in Lithuania and in the rest of the world, leading up to the global financial crisis. Many CHAPTER 12

235

made big business in those years. Wages rose and demand stayed high. Trade between Denmark and Lithuania peaked in 2007. The growth was strong, partly because of the easy access to private financing and because the many foreign investments were contributing to the booming economy. According to Thomas Rønlev, who was then a business consultant, and is now CEO of the robotics company FactoRobotics, companies had already begun to consider how to streamline their business, as it was necessary due to the rising wages. The crisis had an immediate impact on the trade links between Denmark and Lithuania. Danish exports to Lithuania fell with almost 50 percent – from a peak in 2007 of DKK 3.3 billion to DKK 1.7 billion in 2009 and DKK 1.8 billion in 2010. Imports from Lithuania to Denmark fell as well. For goods, the imports fell from DKK 3.8 billion in 2008 to DKK 2.9 billion in 2009. These were tough years in Lithuania, and many Danish businesses and companies felt the crisis very badly as well. However, the crisis was not as deep as in Latvia and some other former Soviet republics, because of the underlying development and solid growth, which had been built in Lithuania since 1998 in many business sectors. This had created a foundation that helped Lithuanian businesses get through the crisis. Some companies went bankrupt during the crisis years, and some Danish companies left Lithuania to seek their luck elsewhere. Also, the emigration from Lithuania to Denmark and other European countries was much higher than usual. In 2010 alone, almost 78,000 Lithuanians left the country. At the time, people talked about a “brain drain” from Lithuania as well, because many 25- to 40-year-olds left and took their knowledge with them – something some people still see as a problem nowadays. Today, this trend has reversed, and the number of people leaving and arriving has almost levelled out. Danish economist Lars Christensen, who worked at Danske Bank at the time of the financial crisis, believes that the Lithuanians showed extraordinary strength in those years. There was a commitment in the Baltic countries to get through the crisis quickly and steadily. And the financial crisis in Lithuania was not a long one compared to most other countries who went into recession. 236

Unemployment rose to about 20 percent, though, and with no chance of getting any support from the government or the state, the situation was dire. Instead, the Lithuanian government explicitly asked the companies to reduce their employees’ salary by 20 or 30 percent. The pensions were cut by 30 percent as well. “Lithuania was great at understanding the severity of the situation, both in the population and in the government. Both before, during and after the crisis. The commitment was extraordinarily inspiring. Everyone was committed to swiftly get through the crisis and move on,” Lars Christensen said. Difficult decisions had to be made everywhere, including in the Danish business community. At that time, Danish transport company DSV had about 120 employees in Lithuania. Kim Bartholdy was also told to cut the salaries by approximately 20 percent. The same was the case for other Danish companies, but Idavang, for instance, cut salaries by 10 percent. According to economist Lars Christensen, the government’s strong crisis management was the main reason why Lithuania got swiftly through the crisis. However, he also mentions that the many foreign investments played an important role – especially the foreign banks, which had established themselves and merged with or acquired Lithuanian banks. These included Scandinavian banks like Danske Bank, Swedbank, SEB, and Nordea. Their presence meant that the economy was (partly) based on foreign economies instead of purely the Lithuanian one. The other factor Lars Christensen pinpoints is that Lithuania’s partner countries, such as Denmark and the other Nordic countries also recovered quickly, allowing for the trade levels to be re-established relatively quickly. According to the Bank of Lithuania, foreign investments started going up in 2010. In 2012, both the export and import levels between Denmark and Lithuania were on the 2008 level. Danish imports from Lithuania were around DKK 3.2 billion and exports were DKK 2.6 billion. At that time, the number of Lithuanian residents in Denmark also rose markedly. The number of employed Lithuanians in Denmark rose from 7,800 in 2010 to 12,000 in 2011, according to the Danish database Jobindsats. The partnership was again strengthened. CHAPTER 12

237

BACK ON TRACK All over the world, the financial crisis forced companies to think differently. That was also the case for the small and medium-sized Danish companies in Lithuania. Those who came to Lithuania with ideas of only simple production and cheap labour had to rethink their purpose and reasons for being in Lithuania. Thomas Rønlev from FactoRobotics had a consulting firm at that time, and he saw how both Danes and Lithuanians started to develop new business ideas and strategies. “Business leaders started to be increasingly innovative and consider what should happen with their companies for them to prosper. The old business models often simply did not work anymore,” he said.

DANISH CHAMBER OF COMMERCE IN LITHUANIA The Danish Chamber of Commerce in Lithuania is the leading organisation in the country with the task of connecting Danish and Lithuanian businesses and organisations, acting like a hub for networking and synergy. It was first formalised in 2009, and today the chamber has over 30 corporate members. BOARD Jan Hyttel, Chairman Board members: Laimonas Markauskas, Partner at NJORD Law Firm Lithuania, Ramūnas Bičiulaitis, General Manager at Danske Bank Lithuania, Marijus Valatka, General Manager in Lithuania at Novo Nordisk, Søren Fink-Jensen, CEO at 1ClickFactory, Niels Tybjerg, Founder at eezmedia, Vilma Jarašiūnienė, Head of economic team at Danish Embassy in Vilnius, Lithuania.

238

For Thomas Rønlev’s part, the crisis meant that he also had to change business. At the time, the Danish Chamber of Commerce in Lithuania was formally established, and Rønlev became its first chairman. Since 1996, there had been an informal business club. People met up, shared experiences, and had social gatherings. But in June 2009, the forum was formalised and transformed into an actual Chamber of Commerce for it to exert increased influence on Lithuanian society. More generally, the Danish small and medium-sized companies did not return immediately after the crisis years. It took some time before confidence in the Baltic markets was re-established. Denmark was no longer on top of the foreign investors’ scoreboard, but had slid to around 10th place. During these years, the competition from East Asia, with its low salaries and production costs, also became tougher, putting a lot of pressure on some business fields in Lithuania. For the textile and furniture businesses, it meant that they needed to focus more on higher quality for their fabrics and products, because they could not compete with Chinese prices alone. That has caused lasting changes on the profile of the textile company Bee-Com, for example. The globalisation of the international economy and increased international competition also gave rise to significant shifts in the business fields of the cooperation between Denmark and Lithuania. These changes also led to a different customer profile for SAS, according to Ruta Juciene, Global Key Account Manager Europe at SAS: Thirty years ago, it was primarily businessmen who travelled between the two countries, and they mostly did so from Denmark to Lithuania. In the last ten years, however, this picture has changed. Nowadays, Lithuanians are travelling as much to Denmark as the other way around. Furthermore, people are now travelling for work and education and for short weekend vacations. That is something new, and Ruta Juciene is of course happy that connections are evolving in that direction. “For Lithuanians, Denmark and Scandinavia were too expensive to go to some years ago. Fortunately, that has changed. Although Denmark is still quite far ahead, the two countries are getting more aligned on price and income levels, and that gives Lithuanians some new possibilities.”

CHAPTER 12

239

BUSINESS LINKS TODAY According to Jan Hyttel, the Chairman of the Danish Chamber of Commerce, Denmark is still making its mark on the Lithuanian business world. Danish companies are still significantly involved in the beer, textile, banking, energy, transport, shipping, furniture and farming businesses, both in the consumer market and the in the production of goods and services in Lithuania. New production companies are coming. One example is the Danish company Micro Matic, which has had its production of equipment for beer kegs and taps in Lithuania for several years. In 2021, though, the management decided to move even more of the production to Lithuania. Denmark has also played a developing role in new sectors. A field that has grown over the last 10 years is the IT and tech field. The around 4,100 employees in Danske Bank are providing service for customers on the entire globe. Of the around 4,100 people that work in Danske Banks shared service centre in Lithuania, around ¼, or 1,100 people, run the biggest part of Group IT in Danske Bank. This branch was established in 2014. The IT department plays a significant role for Danske Bank globally. Another example is the IT company Adform, which established its branch in Lithuania in 2006. Today, most of its employees work in the office in Vilnius. Both are examples of the growing group of skilled IT labour in Lithuania, which Danish companies also benefit highly from. The same goes for robot development businesses. Thomas Rønlev established FactoBotics together with his business partner Justinas Katkus in 2014 – and that was mainly because of the strong engineer team in Lithuania. With the company, they are trying to build new, high-value bridges between Denmark and Lithuania – with the engineers in Vilnius and the commercial team in Odense in Denmark. The strategy is providing good results because of the many new specialists in Lithuania. Another aspect of the business partnership that has grown intensely in the last 10 years is environmental, social, and economic sustainability. In 2021, the Danish company European Energy opened a big onshore wind farm in Anykščiai in Northeastern Lithuania. The farm is developed in cooperation with the local company East Wind Brokers. Its ambition is to become the biggest producer of renewable energies 240

in Lithuania, and this local partnership is a main element of European Energy’s strategic ambitions. With Lithuania’s target of having 100 percent of electricity from renewables by 2050, this partnership is important for both countries. Marijus Valatka, general director of the pharmaceutical company Novo Nordisk’s branch in Lithuania, is impressed with how far Denmark is in the field of sustainability and green energy – and how Danish companies are bringing this mentality to Lithuania’s business sector. “This is not only about making profit, but to think about the bigger picture. In the long run, you must have a sustainable business,” he says. The Danish businessman and developer Niels Peter Pretzmann has established Farmers Circle, a sustainable, organic farm where he produces products for stores around the country and for his restaurants and shops in the newly renovated food hall Senators’ Passage in the heart of Vilnius. According to Esben Jakobsen, the owner of Jakobsen Home, the new market situation and the stronger international competition demand different leadership in the businesses today. Modern companies need a greater knowledge of their markets even just to survive, and therefore he hopes that the political-economic system in Lithuania continues the streamlining of society and the bureaucracy. With the wages rising in Lithuania once again, constant optimization is necessary to keep up with the international competition. Globalisation has also meant that Lithuania and Denmark are experiencing many of the same challenges in their respective labour markets. As the young generations are being still better educated, both countries experience problems with recruiting in many sectors, including the production sector. The lack of skilled and unskilled labour is becoming a critical issue and an observation point in the decision-making of investors, who are looking for new opportunities. Further education has its own raison d’être in order to improve productivity and to ensure a continued increase in economic progress that Lithuania and its Baltic neighbours have been so very good at – despite the financial crisis in the 2008. Some Lithuanian economists fear that Lithuania might be stuck in the middle-income trap, but the fintech business in Lithuania is an example that the country is gradually moving into higher-value sectors. From a Danish perspective, Lithuania is more than ever seen as an CHAPTER 12

241

equal partner at the international business stage – with all the advantages and new opportunities, as well as the challenges, which follow. Today, Lithuanian companies have grown strong and are beginning to invest in Denmark. One recent example is Avia Solution Group, which is investing and establishing subsidiaries in the aviation sector in Denmark and the Nordic countries, and Linas Agro, which invested in an Danish agricultural company. Some Danish companies turn Lithuanian and create subsidiaries in Denmark. The ease of doing business in Lithuania is internationally recognised. The taxation level is low, and hence some foreign, including Danish, companies prefer to “go domestic” and place their mother company in Lithuania and the subsidiary in Denmark. Denmark has a trade deficit with Lithuania in the fields of both goods and services. From a Danish perspective, it is a healthy deficit, because a large part of the trade comes from Danish companies that import items from subsidiaries in Lithuania providing products that are part of goods aimed at the export markets of third countries. It is another apt illustration of the bilateral integrated business links and the strength that comes from the Danish-Lithuanian business relations. THE FUTURE OF THE DANISH-LITHUANIAN BUSINESS LINKS Looking toward the future, both Denmark and Lithuania share the objective of developing their businesses to become both greener and more digitalised, Ambassador Hans Brask explains. Both countries 242

promote this agenda within the EU, as well as in the implementation of EU’s recovery and resilience facility, which is the key instrument of the NextGenerationEU that aims at substantially helping the EU member states to overcome the crisis caused by the coronavirus pandemic. The pandemic has highlighted the vulnerability of certain production processes, which include long chains of supply of components and spare parts and long transportation times. The idea of nearshoring to Denmark and production facilities in Europe has surfaced, and there is new interest in the Baltic region, including Lithuania, where infrastructure and logistics are among the comparative advantages. The Trade Council at the Danish embassy in Vilnius is busy. Maybe these are positive future signs for the trade and business links between Denmark and Lithuania. The past 30 years of business integration have made Denmark and Lithuania closer and more equal business partners in a globalised world. The next 30 years look just as bright. A final question to ask is whether the trends and the stories gathered here might as well reflected the situation in other Baltic and Easter European countries where Denmark became active after the fall of the Berlin wall. For sure, some elements of international business environment will have been the same in other countries – Russia’s economic crash, the dynamics of the EU enlargement, the international financial crisis, etc. To this question, Ambassador Hans Brask says that he is positive that the Lithuanian situation has been different because of the intensity of contacts on all levels – political, administrative, military, NGO and business – which all have had a mutual positive influence. Very many Danes were exposed through frequent visits to Lithuania, and an extraordinary level of trust developed between Danes and Lithuanians that has been quite unique. Mutual trust is, after all, a very important basis for doing business, he adds.

CHAPTER 12

243

Thanks to:

Jan Hyttel, chairman of the Danish Chamber of Commerce in Lithuania Dan Nielsen, the first resident Danish ambassador to Lithuania from 1991 to 1997 Kai Kristoffersen former advisor to the Lithuanian Ministry of Finance Morten Søndergaard, former advisor to the Lithuanian Ministry of Energy Michael Kümmel, former advisor to the Lithuanian Ministry of Education Kim Bartholdy, Managing Director in DSV Lithuania Jonas Nazarovas, Managing Director, DFDS Seaways Lithuania Claus Baltersen, former director at Idavang Leif Rene Hansen, former KPMG Denmark Steen Trondhjem Nielsen, Banker Steen Lynggaard, Managing Director of Bee-Com Esben Jakobsen, CEO at Jakobsen Home Lars Christensen, CEO/Founder, Markets & Money Advisory Thomas Rønlev, CEO of FactoRobotics Rūta Jucienė, Global Key Account Manager Europe at SAS Marijus Valatka, General Director of the pharmaceutical company Novo Nordisk in Lithuania Hans Brask, Ambassador to Lithuania

244

CHAPTER 13

SLOW-MOTION INDEPENDENCE: LITHUANIA’S ROAD TO ENERGY INDEPENDENCE THROUGH TECHNIFICATION. By Trine Villumsen Berling, Senior Researcher, Danish Institute for International Studies, and Ingerid Bratz, Research Assistant at Danish Institute for International Studies Energy infrastructure and energy dependence are critical in understanding Lithuania’s situation over the past 30 years. Trine Villumsen Berling and Ingerid Bratz examine how the energy sector in Lithuania is undergoing a basic transformation. There is a great potential for intensified cooperation between Lithuania and Denmark in addressing the climate challenge and in introducing green and renewable energies.

INTRODUCTION The Baltic Sea Region was divided politically for decades during the Cold War. Yet, as independence swept over the easternmost rim in the early 1990s, the story was in some ways more complicated in the Baltic States. While political independence cannot be underestimated, another story was lurking in the background: The energy systems were not liberated with the same speed as the political systems. The three Baltic states were left with energy infrastructure from the Soviet Union that kept them on a tight leash. The gas and oil pipelines still pumped energy from east to west, leaving the Baltic States reliant on their big eastern neighbour. It took more than a decade before the monopoly on gas was broken, and to this day, the energy systems are still being disentangled from Russian (over)influence. CHAPTER 13

245

In order to understand transformations in the Baltic Sea region in general and in Lithuania in particular, it is immensely important to recognise the technification of security. This means that security authority is pulled out of the spectacular, military mode and into the technical mode of energy infrastructure and engineering – and it has been central in obtaining what we call ‘slow‑motion independence’ for Lithuania. The role of Denmark stands out in the early days and emerges as an opportunity for the future. TECHNIFICATION AS SECURITY POLITICS Lithuania gained political independence in 1990, and subsequently pursued several strategies in order to bolster that status. In 1994, the last Russian troops withdrew from the Baltic States, and in 2004 the country became a member of both NATO and the EU1 . However, as argued by Berling and Surwillo2, the development of energy infrastructure projects can tell an often‑overlooked story of security politics, which has been extremely important for understanding Lithuanian independence strategies. Therefore, it is analytically sound to focus on the interplay of energy technology, politics and security when understanding what we in this article call slow‑motion independence. Berling and Surwillo develop an analytical framework for understanding ‘technification’, which is defined with inspiration from the theory of securitisation, famously formulated by Ole Wæver in the 1990s3. Wæver focused on spectacular security situations in which emergency measures were legitimised and decision‑making was pulled out of normal political deliberation. Standard rules would no longer apply as the security mode took over. Going to war is a good example of this security mode. In technification, security is dealt with differently. Here, normal deliberation is also confined, but not by spectacular announcements of emergencies and urgency. Instead, “[t]hrough technification, a transformation is taking place at a slow, but solidifying pace at the level of the un‑spectacular, the technical, the mundane”4 . It is a form of politics that may still have security as its end goal, but takes place under the radar and often employs technical language. This form of politics has been particularly visible in the transformation of Lithuania. 246

Berling and Surwillo (2021) illustrate that technification, like securitisation, ‘pulls issues out’ of normal political deliberation. However, it does not do so by spectacular moves or by legitimising extreme measures (Buzan et al 1998). It does so on the grounds of rendering security implementation and decision‑making technical, in a process that is marked by distinct mechanisms, characteristics and outcomes. In the process, a gradual and un‑spectacular move strips the traditional, centralised state responsibility and authority from security politics and puts other hybrid forms of governance in its place. Not only the state actors, but increasingly also energy companies and industry giants, engage in the negotiation processes that often elude democratic scrutiny and shift decision‑making competence to experts far removed from the offices of prime ministers and defence secretaries. This includes using a technical language and a form of expertise that is either only accessible to the expert few or utilised for shaping the debate on technical grounds, which obfuscates the nature and reach of the decisions made. The processes of technification are taking place within the struggle between private companies, civil servants, environmental organizations and energy experts working on or combatting energy infrastructure projects. In each their way, these actors seek to define and categorise energy infrastructure, and hence to obtain the right to speak with authority on the issue.* The transformative potential and security implications of energy infrastructure decisions are often left to technical and day‑to‑day administrative decision‑making, and have largely flown under the radar in analyses of state security. However, with long lead and construction times, energy infrastructure is long‑term. Nuclear power plants, LNG terminals, or gas pipelines are not built or closed overnight. Infrastructure on this scale substantially locks national and regional energy security for decades. This is where the concept of technification becomes central in highlighting the transformative nature of mundane energy politics. In the Lithuanian context, the technification of the political processes surrounding energy *

In support of this, Grigas (2012b: 6) argues that “[i]n energy policy, a large number of non‑state actors are involved in foreign policy making from economic/bureaucratic actors (e.g. state energy enterprises) to private sector actors (e.g. private firms)”.

CHAPTER 13

247

were of utmost importance for obtaining independence in slow motion. The process was still tied to a central security concern of the country, and some decisions were taken following the securitisation mode of politics. However, the implementation and decision‑making concerning energy security and independence were, to a large extent, technified. Based on broad research and interviews with persons with special knowledge of energy in Lithuania and experts on energy from the wider Baltic Sea region, this chapter traces the energy politics of technification in Lithuania – and the Danish role in this process – from political independence in 1990 to today. ENERGY DEPENDENCE ENDURES The road away from energy dependence on Russia has brought energy security to the top of the agenda in the Baltic countries since political independence in 1990. For Lithuania specifically, it was priority number one5, and has remained an issue with broad Parliamentarian agreement, unlike other political issues. Two tracks are particularly noteworthy: the gas track and the electricity track. Both tracks have witnessed important developments. The sticky gas track

In terms of gas, Lithuania was totally dependent on the gas flowing from Russia through pipes built during Soviet times. As a political tool, Moscow imposed an energy blockade from February to April 1990 (Janeliūnas 2020) and consistently charged very high prices for gas6. According to many respondents, including Arvydas Sekmokas, former Minister for Energy, this was primarily done to seek control and to punish the newly independent Baltic States7. Gas was used to heat up households and in industry. Buildings were poorly insulated, and there was an enormous loss of energy in the pipes. This had not previously been a problem for Lithuanians, since during the Soviet planned economy, the gas had been cheap and widely used (Vilemas 2010). However, after independence, the prices increased enormously – mainly because of political dictates from Moscow – and 248

it was not uncommon for a family to spend 50‑60% of their income on heating (Interview 5). “At the beginning, there were basic needs that had to be covered. There was hyperinflation, and people had to pay enormous heating prices –it was really affecting the financial situation of ordinary families”8. A solution to the high gas prices for ordinary families was the renovation of the whole district heating system9. Here, a newly formed political bond between Denmark and Lithuania proved useful. The story goes that Lithuania teamed up with Denmark, Estonia teamed up with Finland, and Latvia formed a close bond with Sweden in the early days after independence. These three pairs were the main form of cooperation in those early days*. The Nordic countries helped the Baltic States to reformulate legislation and to forge business bonds10. As early as 1990, a Lithuanian‑Danish cooperation body was set up to coordinate cooperation on energy, economy and agriculture11. A Danish and a Lithuanian diplomat co‑chaired the body and worked to foster business ties between Denmark and Lithuania, along with administrative changes in Lithuania. Danfoss and Rockwool both moved business into Lithuania and helped in the transition period. The mundane issue of isolating buildings (Rockwool) and installing central heating and heating metres in buildings to help cut energy use, was therefore an essential part of the technified disentanglement from Russian dominance over Lithuanian households, and thereby also the Lithuanian state more broadly12. Even today, thermostats from the transition period remind Lithuanians of the Danish influence in the early years of independence13. The tragedy of the electricity track

Contrary to the situation concerning gas, upon independence Lithuania had an advantage in the form of a nuclear power plant (NPP) in Ignalina, close to the border to Belarus. The NPP supplied most of the electricity to the country, and Lithuania was also able to export to the other Baltic States. The electricity was cheap, as the reactors and *

In addition, the then Danish Minister for the Environment Svend Auken emphasized the need for concrete cooperation on e.g. wind power through the a support programme for Eastern Europe, the so‑called “Øststøtte‑ordning”(Interview 3).

CHAPTER 13

249

the distribution system was already in place14. The power plant had been built before independence in 1990 and was well‑functioning. The power plant satisfied 77% of the country’s electricity needs, and 58% of its total output was exported to other countries, including Latvia and Estonia15. It was an important source of baseload energy, creating stability and a low risk of blackouts in the region. However, the advantage soon turned into a liability. Lithuanian politics was not only about energy in those years, and the wish to join the Western world fully translated into a wish to become a member of both NATO and the EU. Denmark helped in the process of adapting Lithuanian administrative and legislative documents and processes in the transition period16. However, as the nuclear power plant had the same type of reactor as the Chernobyl NPP, which less than a decade before had exploded and created a disaster for people and environment, it was deemed outdated when Lithuania sought membership in the European Union. It became part of the political deal that Ignalina would have to close if Lithuania’s wish to join the European Union should become a reality. Hence, alternative energy sources had to be found. This was a major blow to a country still struggling to disentangle itself from gas dependency on Russia. Where would the energy come from? However, again the bond to Denmark, which had been forged early after independence, was instrumental in seeking alternatives in the form of windmills and solar energy17. Nuclear energy remained Lithuania’s main source of electricity up until the closing of the Ignalina Power Plant in 200918. Today, more than ten years later, Lithuania depends more than 70% on electricity imports, including substantial ones from Russia and Belarus, but by 2016 the imports from Russia were down to a third of Lithuania’s needs19. The largest share of electricity is now imported from Sweden. DIVERSIFICATION MEANS INDEPENDENCE: DISENTANGLING AND RE‑CONNECTING A ‘functional market’: The gas track revisited

The gas track was hugely important for obtaining energy independence. However, it was more than a decade after independence before 250

the Russian gas monopoly in Lithuania was broken. Urged along by circumstances in the region, where Russia openly stated that energy was to be used as a weapon in its foreign policy toolbox20, Lithuania longed for gas independence as well. Renovation and cutbacks on gas use were not enough. After what has been called the ‘Ukraine gas crisis’ in 2006, where Russia cut off gas to Ukraine because of a dispute over transit to Europe, Lithuania felt it had to do something out of the ordinary. Russian TV even transmitted footage from January 1, 2006 from a control room where operators were shutting down certain pipelines to Ukraine, just to make sure everybody got the message: This is not a technical glitch; we just shut down gas flow to Ukraine. Lithuania felt that it might be next21. There had been plans to install a terminal to receive liquified natural gas (LNG) together with the other two Baltic States, but Lithuania went ahead with its own local LNG terminal, while the regional one in Latvia never materialised22. The process was marked more by securitisation and urgency than mundane technification. In 2014, the LNG terminal, tellingly named ‘Independence’, opened23. The terminal finally allowed Lithuania to break free from the Russian monopoly and start the journey toward what is today a ‘functional gas market’24*. Together with other developments in the gas sector, such as the gas link to Poland**, it allowed the Baltic States to start ‘diversifying’ their gas imports and become less dependent on the whims of Moscow. As the former Energy Minister Arvydas Sekmokas told us, today the “Russian gas share will depend on the price”25. This is understood as deep and real independence, obtained through technical details and slow developments that are often not considered when evaluating state independence.

Attempts to create a common regional gas market (a so‑called “gas market merger”) have been labelled “of a pioneering nature” and may result in the first four‑country‑wide cross‑border gas market merger in the EU. https://ec.europa.eu/info/sites/default/ files/energy_climate_change_environment/news/documents/roadmap_on_regional_ gas_market_integration.pdf accessed 18 may 2021).

Gas projects include: GIPL (Poland‑Lithuania), Balticconnector (offshore pipeline between Finland and Estonia), BEMIP Regional Transmission System Operators Gas Regional Investment Plan for 2012‑2021 (EURO 500 Mill). Nordbalt (Sweden‑Lithuania‑Latvia) Estlink 2 (Finland‑Estonia) and Estonian‑Latvian 3rd interconnection (completed end of 2020).

CHAPTER 13

251

Electricity track: desynchronization and ‘dangerous’ nuclear energy

On the electricity track, the story was much less bright. The Ignalina plant closed in 2009, and initial plans to build a replacement in Visaginas were abandoned after a referendum in October 2012. After a lively political debate, the result was 34% pro and 63% contra26. This was bad news for Lithuanian energy independence. In fact, the electricity cables became a matter of huge political struggles over the 2010s and into the 2020s. Institutionalised cooperation with the other Baltic states and the European Union was sought several times*. In 2009, the cooperation took a new form under the heading of the Baltic Energy Market Interconnection Plan (BEMIP).** The primary goal was integration of the Baltic States into the European network.*** The so‑called ‘energy islands’ – meaning countries with no or limited energy connectivity to the outside – needed to be integrated to form a stable and reliable part of Europe. A central element in the strategy of breaking free and re‑connecting was the desynchronisation of the Baltic countries from their big neighbour to the east through the BRELL power grid and synchronisation with the continental European electricity system. The plan formed part of the ambitious project of the European Commission called the Energy Union. According to one of the political architects behind the Energy *

BASREC was established in 1999 and encompasses 10 countries surrounding the Baltic Sea (Denmark, Sweden, Norway, Finland, Germany, Poland, Latvia, Lithuania, Estonia, Russia) as well as The European Commission. Originally, there were five working groups under BASREC: Bioenergy, Climate Change, Electricity, Energy Efficiency and Gas, which were active in the period from 2003 to 2005 (Stremikiene 2007).

The European Commission, in collaboration with the Baltic Sea Region states (Finland, Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania, Poland, Germany, Denmark, Sweden and Norway [observer]), launched the BEMIP in 2009. The BEMIP aims to interconnect the energy sector in the Baltic Region. The long‑standing regional cooperation has significantly contributed to the rapid completion of the key electricity links, including „Nordbalt“ (Lithuania–Sweden; 700 MW) and „Litpol Link“ (Lithuania–Poland; 500 MW). These interconnections have effectively ended the energy isolation of the Baltic States and connected them with the rest of Europe (https://ec.europa.eu/energy/sites/ener/ files/documents/communication_on_infrastructure_17.pdf accessed 18 May 2021).

***

Within BEMIP, the electricity link with Nordbalt (Sweden‑Lithuania‑Latvia) and Estlink2 (Finland‑Estonia) was included. Also connecting the EU electricity market with Baltics was included. Thus, BEMIP seeks to foster security of supply (diversification of supply routes), market integration (removal of technical/regulatory barriers) energy efficiency, research and development/innovation, as well as decarbonisation (Paceviciute 2017).

252

Union, former Commissioner for Energy (Barroso I. and for Development (Barroso II) Andris Piebalgs: “The Energy Union definitely serves the Baltics extremely well; not just well, but extremely well”27. The devil is in the technical details, and this highly technical and heavily bureaucratic exercise cannot be understood as anything but a technified way of bolstering independence for the Baltic countries. “It’s clear that in energy emergency situations, the Baltic States would not be left out in the cold”28.

CHAPTER 13

253

The context of the large‑scale technical plan of synchronisation was that for historical reasons, the electricity grids in Latvia, Estonia, and Lithuania were (and still are) synchronised with the Russian and Belarussian electricity systems. Ten major power cables connect Russia and Belarus with the Baltic States29 and supply a large part of the electricity needed in these countries. The desynchronisation plans have been on the table for more than a decade. The current process is led by the EU Commission as a “project of common interest” and the plan is to go through with the desynchronisation and cutting off supply through the ten eastern cables in 202530. Our respondents agreed that this was a major step for bolstering independence for Lithuania31; however, opinions concerning the process ahead were divided. Some expected the desynchronisation plans to go ahead as planned32, others did not think that Russia would allow it33, and still others held that Russia might cut off electricity unilaterally before Lithuania was “ready”34. The doubts and divided opinions show that Russian intentions still create division and a sense of vulnerability in Lithuania today, and that the energy system is an important part of that story.* Another thorny issue on the electricity track concerns nuclear energy. This time, however, it is not a story of proud independence and home‑grown energy, but a story of a Belarusian project considered dangerous by most Lithuanians: The Astravets NPP, only 16 kilometres across the Lithuanian‑Belarusian border, close to the now‑closed Ignalina NPP. Geography and safety issues have been at the centre of a huge controversy35. This is rooted in the fact that the plant has experienced several unsafe construction issues during the installation process; for example, in 2016, a crane dropped the heavy 330‑ton reactor from a height of 4 metres during a lift test36. In addition to these incidences, some have argued that the Belarusian authorities have not been transparent in their practices37. The NPP, with the Russian state‑owned ROSATOM as the main contractor, started construction in 2012 and is located only 45 km *

254

The issue of Kaliningrad is pertinent in connection to the desynchronisation plans. The Russian peninsula faces being left as an energy island when desynchronisation is complete (Interview 2, 2021).

The Astravets Nuclear Power Plant, only 45 kilometres from the Lithuanian capital, Vilnius, is today considered dangerous by most Lithuanians and seen as an attempt from Russia to keep Lithuania dependent on cheap electricity. Photo: iStock

from Vilnius. One million people in Lithuania live in the evacuation zone, and for the abovementioned reasons, Lithuania has stocked up on iodine tablets and carried out emergency drills in case something should go totally wrong38. The plant was connected to the grid in late 2020, only weeks after another incident had been reported. Steps to cut all electricity from the Astravets NPP were taken by the Lithuanian government in 202039 and trade was suspended in November 202040. In February 2021, the European Parliament supported this move41 and in April 2021, the IEA executive director agreed with the Lithuanian Minister of Energy that this was a difficult and potentially dangerous situation42. In addition, the sentiment in Lithuania is that the NPP is not only dangerous for reasons connected to nuclear safety. Many also see the plant as a Russian‑Belarusian attempt to keep Lithuania dependent on cheap electricity. A current controversy concerns Lithuanian fears that even though Lithuania has cut the connection to Belarus, electricity from Astravets will reach Lithuania through Latvia. Breaking free from Russian/Belarusian entanglement is still a difficult and ongoing process. CHAPTER 13

255

GOING GREEN: A SILVER BULLET? As we celebrate 100 years of diplomatic relations between Denmark and Lithuania, we also celebrate a long history of technical cooperation in the energy field between the two countries. It would be nice to say that we can look back at a job well done. However, the job is not finished. Desynchronisation needs to happen, and the lease on the LNG terminal in Klaipeda is up for renewal of the contracts in only a couple of years*. So even though Lithuania has come a long way, this is not the time to drop the ball. At this point, the main track to focus on is electricity. As early as after the referendum on nuclear energy, Lithuania adopted a plan to increase its share of renewables in electricity generation. Today, a recent report by Nordic Energy Research (acronym BENTE) confirmed that a turn to green solutions in the Baltic countries is both economically and technically feasible43. Electricity consumption is projected to increase due to growing demands and electrification. The largest increase would come from electric vehicles (EVs), followed by industry due to assumed growth of production, heat pumps in buildings and district heat production. Based on the assumptions of this study, the growth could be 17% to 27% by 2030 compared to 2015, and 60% to 65% by 2050 (Nordic Energy Research 2021: 17). Denmark is central for Lithuania – almost a default choice, it seems – when it comes to thinking about energy efficiency, and especially green energy44. New opportunities will arise for Danish companies already in 2023, when Lithuania holds two auctions for two offshore windmill parks (each 700 Mw). However, whereas the main objective of the BENTE report was to evaluate possibilities for the green transition from a climate perspective, the green transition may prove to be a solution to the long‑standing problem of energy dependence in the Baltic States as well: A silver bullet, perhaps, which tackles the old dependencies and the future

256

The Lithuanian government plans to buy the facility in the future instead of leasing it; please see https://ec.europa.eu/info/news/state‑aid‑commission‑approves‑additional‑state‑guarantee‑klaipeda‑lng‑terminal‑lithuania‑2020‑nov‑20_en accessed May 28, 2021.

Both Denmark and Lithuania have very high ambitions on transiting towards renewable energy. The Danish company European Energy has recently opened the construction of a big onshore wind farm in Anyksciai, Lithuania, developed in cooperation with the Lithuanian company East Wind Brokers. Photo: European Energy

climate vulnerabilities at the same time? A Danish role in that process would be raising the stakes in the green adventure. Indeed, most of the green solutions envisioned in the report are well‑known to Danes. Energy efficiency measures, wind power, biomass, heat pumps, and solar power and heating are estimated to be the most cost‑effective ways to increase the renewable energy share. In fact, the report states that “[t]he deployment of renewable energy would reduce the import dependency of the Baltic countries and provide an effective hedge against high electricity prices”45. Again, as we saw in the early days after independence in 1990, technification is key. Through mundane, technical measures, energy independence can be obtained. In an interview, former director of Nordic Energy CHAPTER 13

257

Research Hans Jørgen Koch warned that in the absence of political will and determination, the Baltic countries will become net importers of electricity46. In other words, energy dependence will endure without investments in domestic capacity today. In our interviews, constructing offshore and onshore wind farms was mentioned as a focal point, together with solar power47. Hopes are high, and as the BENTE report underlines, they are also realistic. However, dark clouds still lurk on the horizon. One of the key figures in early Lithuanian energy politics, Arvydas Sekmokas, expressed his doubts that Russia would let all this happen without some sort of intervention, be it through defunding infrastructure or by using its influence channels in the energy companies in the region to derail the green transition or obstructing the EU desynchronisation plans. The Latvian position was considered an especial cause for concern, because of the country’s alleged closer ties to Russia48. The issue of Russian influence remains a clear point of contention in general, and surfaces and resurfaces in political debates throughout the region. To take an example, in 2017, a parliamentarian was expelled from the Lithuanian Parliament because of alleged ties to Russian interests49, and another similar case surfaced in 2019 but was dropped in 202050. The cases show that the Russia factor is alive and kicking in the Baltic States, and that uncertainties and speculation about infiltration and entanglement remain a constant source of anxiety. The bottom line is, however, that energy independence is central for Lithuania today. The gas track is – well, to put it bluntly – on track. The electricity track is where the battle for the future lies. And with Danish knowhow in green solutions, we might be looking at yet another decade of close Lithuanian‑Danish relations in the technified domain. The recent Danish initiative of constructing new energy islands (not to be confused with the isolation of a country or region in energy connectivity terms)51 is mentioned repeatedly in interviews. In particular, the production of so‑called “power‑to‑x”* that the plans entail seems to have caught the attention of experts and analysts52.

258

Power to X. sustainable production of synthetic fuels that can replace fossil fuel in the transport sector.

What to learn from the Lithuanian case? From a theoretical perspective, the notion of technification allows us to cast a net that includes aspects often not evaluated in security politics. It pulls the technical to centre stage in debates about independence, and highlights how this may be obtained in unspectacular and mundane ways through technical measures. Further, as will become increasingly visible in the future, the technical solutions for the green transition may point to a wider change in the geopolitical situation in the Baltic Sea region and beyond: with dependency on fossil fuels on the decline, the massive power of states with large natural reserves of oil and gas may be diminishing53. The green transition is therefore not just mandatory in tackling the climate threat, but will also likely open new opportunities and critical clash lines. We know from historical experience that declining powers do not often go down without a fight. So, the time is ripe for keeping a close eye on the technical green transition as a possible catalyst for great power geopolitical changes in the Baltic Sea region. In this situation, cooperation is the best weapon for small states. And technical cooperation may seem mundane and of little importance. It is, however, an immensely powerful way of slowly, but surely, letting independence take root.

CHAPTER 13

259

References BENTE report (2018): “Baltic Energy Technology Scenarios 2018”, Nordic Energy Research, published April 26, 2018 at https://www.nordicenergy. org/project/bente/ , accessed May 25, 2021. Berling, T.V. & I. Surwillo (2021): “Technification and Securitization: The grammar of ‘rendering technical’ in Polish Nuclear energy politics”, paper presented to the International Studies Association, online conference, April 2021. Berling, T.V. and I. Surwillo (2020): “Magtkampen under Østersøen Ræson”, Ræson, December 18, 2020 (printed magazine and https://www.raeson. dk/2020/villumsen‑berling‑og‑surwillo‑i‑raesons‑trykte‑magasin‑magtkamp‑under‑ostersoen/, accessed 25 May, 2021. Buzan, B. O. Wæver and J. de Wilde (1998): Security. A new framework for analysis. Boulder: Lynne Rienner. CEEP (2020): “Lithuania blocks unsafe electricity from Belarus”, Central European Energy Partners, November 9, 2020 at https://www.ceep.be/ lithuania‑blocks‑unsafe‑electricity‑from‑belarus/ accessed May 28, 2021. Emerging Europe (2020): “Defying Europe Once Again. Belarus plugs Astravets nuclear power plant into national grid”, November 4, 2020 at https:// emerging‑europe.com/news/defying‑europe‑once‑again‑belarus‑plugs‑astravets‑nuclear‑power‑plant‑into‑national‑grid/, accessed May 25, 2021. EU Observer (2017): “Belarus nuclear plant: A disaster waiting to happen”, May 31, 2017 at https://euobserver.com/opinion/138079 accessed May 27, 2021. Euractiv (2012): “Lithuania swings Left, abandons nuclear plant project, October 15, 2012 at https://www.euractiv.com/section/elections/news/ lithuania‑swings‑left‑abandons‑nuclear‑plant‑project/ , accessed May 25, 2021. European Commission (2017): “Communication from the Commission to the European Parliament, The Council, The European Economic and Social Committee and the Committee of the Regions. Communication on strengthening Europe’s energy networks”, Brussels, 23.11.2017COM(2017) 718 final at https://ec.europa.eu/energy/sites/ener/files/documents/communication_on_infrastructure_17.pdf, accessed 25 May 2021. 260

European Parliament (2021): “MEPs call for suspension of the launch of the Belarus nuclear plant in Ostrovets”, at https://www.europarl.europa. eu/news/en/press‑room/20210204IPR97126/meps‑call‑for‑suspension‑of‑the‑launch‑of‑the‑belarus‑nuclear‑plant‑in‑ostrovets, accessed May 28, 2021. Fukuyama (1989): “The End of History?”, The National Interest, Summer 1989: 3‑18 Grigas, A. (2012a): The Gas Relationship Between the Baltic States and Russia ‑ Politics and Commercial Relations, Oxford Institute for Energy Studies, NG 67, October 2012. Grigas, A. (2012b) The Politics of Energy and Memory Between the Baltic States and Russia, London & New York: Routledge. Interview 1 (2021): Phone interview by Trine Villumsen Berling with Arvydas Sekmokas, former Minister for Energy in Lithuania, April 13, 2021. Interview 2 (2021): Online interview by Trine Villumsen Berling with a former vice‑minister for Energy in Lithuania, April 15, 2021. Interview 3 (2021): Online interview by Trine Villumsen Berling with former director of Nordic Energy Research, Hans Jørgen Koch, April 19, 2021. Interview 4 (2021): Online interview by Trine Villumsen Berling with a senior advisor at Nordic Energy Research, April 22, 2021. Interview 5 (2021): Online interview by Trine Villumsen Berling with Vilma Jarašiūnienė, Senior Advisor at the Embassy of Denmark to Lithuania, May 5, 2021. Interview 6 (2021): Online interview by Ingrid Bratz with Adviser to the President of Latvia and former Commissioner for Energy (Barroso I. and for Development (Barroso II), Andris Piebalgs , April 29, 2021. Janeliūnas, T. (2020): “Energy Transformation in Lithuania: Aiming for the Grand Changes”, in From Economic to Energy Transition: Three Decades of Transitions in Central and Eastern Europe, 283–313. https://doi.org/1 0.1007/978‑3‑030‑55085‑1_10 Grigas, A., A. Kasekamp, K. Maslauskaite and L. Zorgenfreija (2013): Baltic States in the EU: Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow. Jacques Delors Institute Studies and Reports, July 2013. LRT English (2020a): “Lithuania fears Belarus hasn’t ‘learned lessons of Chernobyl’”, January 19, 2020, at https://www.lrt.lt/en/news‑in‑english/19/1133741/lithuania‑fears‑belarus‑hasn‑t‑learned‑lessons‑of‑chernobyl, accessed May 25, 2021. CHAPTER 13

261

LRT English (2020b): “Lithuania’s parliament will not impeach MP Rozova over ties with Russia”, 2020.06.03, at https://www.lrt.lt/en/news‑in‑english/19/1184603/lithuania‑s‑parliament‑will‑not‑impeach‑mp‑rozova‑over‑ties‑with‑russia, accessed May 28, 2021. Nordic Energy Research (2021): Heat Pump Potential in the Baltic States, Nordic Energy Research. https://www.nordicenergy.org/publications/ heat‑pump‑potential‑in‑the‑baltic‑states/, April 9, 2021. OECD (2020): “Lithuania”, Fossil Fuel Support Country Note Report, June 2020 at https://www.oecd.org/fossil‑fuels/data/, accessed May 25, 2021. Paceviciute, I. (2017): Towards the Energy Union: The BEMIP and the Case of Lithuania, IAI working papers 17/06, Istituto Affari Internazionali. Press Conference (2021): “Lithuania Energy Policy Review”, International Energy Agency, 28 April 2021 at https://www.iea.org/events/lithuania‑energy‑policy‑review‑2021, accessed May 25, 2021. Reuters (2020): “Lithuania stops Baltics power trade with Belarus, Russia over nuclear plant”, November 3, 2020, at https://www.reuters.com/article/ litgrid‑belarus‑idUSKBN27J2CA, accessed May 28, 2021. Reuters (2017): “Lithuanian parliament moves to impeach MP over Russian ties“ , March 16, 2017 at https://www.reuters.com/article/us‑lithuania‑russia‑impeachment‑idUSKBN16N2RA, accessed May 28, 2021. Stremikiene, D. (2007): “Monitoring of energy supply sustainability in the Baltic Sea Region”, Energy Policy, 35(3): 1658‑1674. Vilemas, Jurgis (2010): Lithuanian Energy Policy in 1990‑2009 and its prospect for development in 2020, Baltic Region 1, 50‑57, https://nbn‑resolving. org/urn:nbn:de:0168‑ssoar‑255363 World Nuclear Association (2021): “Nuclear Power in Lithuania” at https:// world‑nuclear.org/information‑library/country‑profiles/countries‑g‑n/ lithuania.aspx, accessed May 25, 2021 (updated January 2021). Wæver, O. (1995): ‘What Is Security? ‑ The Securityness of Security’. In European Security, edited by Birthe Hansen, 222‑. Copenhagen: Copenhagen Political Studies Press, 1995. Yergin, D. (2020) The New Map. Energy, Climate, and the Clash of Nations, New York: Penguin Press

262

CHAPTER 14

DANISH CULTURAL INSTITUTE – FROM A DANISH OUTPOST TO A WELL-GROUNDED CULTURAL INSTITUTION IN THE BALTICS By Simon Drewsen Holmberg, Director, Danish Cultural Institute, Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania, and Amalie Pi Sørensen, Deputy Director, Danish Cultural Institute Cultural links have played a key role in the development of the bilateral relations between Lithuania and Denmark. Both as a frontrunner for the diplomatic level and for establishing people-to-people contacts, the Danish Cultural Institute in the Baltics has initiated a variety of projects and encounters, contributing to a better understanding between Danes and Lithuanians.

In 1990, the regional Danish TV station TV2 Bornholm took upon itself to smuggle a TV editing unit at the bottom of a fishing vessel from Nexø, Bornholm to Klaipeda, Lithuania (this was before the digital revolution, which meant that almost a ton of hardware components had to be shipped). The idea was to provide Lithuanian Television (LRT) with the means to produce television for the Lithuanian population without Soviet control, no matter what happened politically with the central TV station and at TV Tower in Vilnius. Eventually, Simon Drewsen Holmberg, director at the Danish Cultural Institute, had the honour of formally granting the equipment, which was discreetly paid for by the Danish government, to LRT as a gift, once Lithuania had surely regained its full independence and the occupying Soviet forces had left. CHAPTER 14

263

This anecdote illustrates the facilitating role that the Danish Cultural Institute in Lithuania, Latvia and Estonia was able to play at the very beginning of the 1990s in support of the independence process in Lithuania. During the 30 years that the Cultural Institute has been working in the Baltic region, many artists and other civil society actors have been engaged and mobilised in establishing direct contacts and meetings with Lithuanians, both in Denmark and in Lithuania. Today, organising people-to-people contacts is still one of the important roles that the Danish Cultural Institute is playing. A RESPONSE TO THE SINGING REVOLUTION When the political changes in 1990 opened the window of opportunity, the idea of establishing a Danish Cultural Institute in the Baltics came from action-oriented people in Danish civil society and the media in Denmark. Thanks to the then secretary general of the Danish Cultural Institute, Per Himmelstrup, and the visionary editor-in-chief of Danish newspaper Politiken, Herbert Pundik, the proposal was made public as a visible sign of wide support for the Baltic independence movements. It would be a way of creating – or recreating – the bridges between Denmark and the three Baltic states. A crowd funding initiative was launched by Politiken, and the then Danish Minister for Foreign Affairs, Uffe Ellemann-Jensen, promised to double the amount of money that was collected for establishing the Cultural Institute in the Baltics. The Danes had witnessed the Baltic Way in 1989, where a line of over 2 mil. people, stretching from Tallinn to Vilnius, demonstrated their profound wish for change and freedom. Another very visible example was the Baltic states’ “singing revolution”, where people in mass gatherings peacefully sang their national songs, demonstrating their national identity and uniqueness. It resonated well in the Danish population, which had a sense of solidarity with the other small nations on the other side of the Baltic Sea. The financial result of Politiken’s crowdfunding was overwhelming and much higher than expected. 264

Then Danish Minister of Culture Bertel Haarder officially opened the cultural institute’s new premises at the National Library in Riga on the institute’s 25th anniversary in 2015. Photo: Danish embassy in Latvia.

In June 1990, a few months after Lithuania adopted its Act of Re-Establishment of the State of Lithuania (11 March 1990) and after similar declarations were adopted in Latvia and Estonia, the establishment of the Danish Cultural Institute began in Riga, with the energetic and enthusiastic Rikke Helms as the first director. No doubt, the initiative was controversial at the time. The Soviet leadership watched it with scepticism. As Denmark signed protocols on cooperation with each of the Baltic states in February 1991, the Soviet Ministry of Foreign Affairs protested vehemently, threatening to take countermeasures. One of the countermeasures that it was considering was targeted against the Cultural Institute. The Soviet Ministry of Foreign Affairs questioned the legal basis of the Cultural Institute. In the end, a lot of measures were taken, and thereby the Institute could continue building bridges. On 18 August 1990, the Danish Minister of Education, Bertel Haarder, formally opened the Cultural Institute during a visit to Riga. The institute was the first Cultural Institute in the Soviet Union established outside Moscow, creating one of the few doors between the East and the West at the time, and acting as an unofficial Danish outpost CHAPTER 14

265

in the Baltics. Later, separate offices of the Institute opened their doors in Tallinn (November 1990) and Vilnius (February 1991). Rikke Helms said in an article in 2015: “The light was bright at the end of a long dark tunnel. The Cultural Institute became the first open window to the West and the expectations were very high.” Besides demonstrating support for the independence process, the aim of the Cultural Institute was to promote international understanding by exchange of cultural and democratic values. In other words, the aim in the early days was to provide broad societal support without expressing concrete political opinions. People-to-people contacts were essential. As Lithuania and the Baltic states have developed over the years, the aim of the Institute is to facilitate intercultural dialogue within selected areas and themes, as shown below. THE DANISH CULTURAL INSTITUTE The Danish Cultural Institute has institutes in China, Brazil, India, Latvia (the Baltic countries) and Russia, but is also engaged in activities in Turkey, Ukraine, the Eastern Neighbourhood countries (including support to the democratic forces in Belarus) and South Korea. The Institute receives its core funding from the Danish Ministry of Culture, but grants from private and public foundations, regions, municipalities as well as international organisations (including The Nordic Council of Ministers and the EU) are important parts of co-financing. The guiding cultural concept is wide-ranging, covering everything from food to urban development, from active citizenship to theatre, literature, and contemporary art. Since 2020 Simon Drewsen-Holmberg has been the director of the Cultural Institute offices for all three countries, and is based in Riga, Latvia. Her Royal Highness Crown Princess Mary of Denmark is Patron of the Danish Cultural Institute. See www.dki.lv

266

The Danish Cultural Institute is established as a self-governing institution engaged in creating mutual understanding between people and promoting knowledge of and interest in Danish culture abroad. During the first 50 years, the Cultural Institute was working under the influence of the Cold War, which limited the people-to-people contacts as well as cultural exchange and communication. The closed borders to Eastern and Central Europe made it almost impossible for cultural activities to happen there. After the fall of the Berlin Wall in 1989, the Danish Cultural Institute saw new opportunities, not least in the three Baltic countries. The independence of the Cultural Institute from the Danish government was an important aspect in 1990. Denmark never accepted the Soviet annexation of the Baltic States. It was crucial not to deviate from this well-established policy. Hence, the establishment of the Institute in Riga was not a matter of an interstate agreement between the Danish state and the Soviet Union. SEPARATE OFFICE IN VILNIUS In November 1991, a separate office opened in Vilnius, and it became an independent institute in 1997. It was led by the very dedicated Audra Sabaliauskienė until 2013, when the Riga office again became responsible for all the three Baltic states. Audra Sabaliauskienė describes the journey through the last 30 years in the following way: “Many exchange projects have strengthened and established sustainable cooperation, paving the way for mutual trust and understanding. Looking back to a colourful kaleidoscope of countless events, happenings and stories as a horizontal connection between us, I would like to point out the much more important vertical dimension. Namely, the restoration of human dignity as a most desirable accomplishment. We are still on the journey, yet the main kick came from both famous and ordinary Danes, showing that even the smallest things can be beautiful – like a mosaic made from tiny pebbles. Many participated in creating the new CHAPTER 14

267

Danish-Lithuanian story that our favourite H.C. Andersen could not even have dreamt of.” Amongst the many projects, events and tasks that Audra Sabaliauskienė was responsible for were the marking of Vilnius as European Capital of Culture in 2009 and also the many Danish projects that were set in motion in the first half of 2012, when Denmark chaired the presidency of the EU. Many of the projects saw cooperation between Danish and Lithuanian artists in different cultural settings. Audra Sabaliauskienė’s vision for Lithuania was to create projects and events all around the country to revive the small communities, reshape their future from a past with many demons, and promote the country in its entirety instead of just focusing on the capital, Vilnius. She succeeded in this, and during her 13 years as head of the Danish Cultural Institute in Lithuania, she led many cultural projects focusing on music, art, literature, etc. It is important to stress that the Cultural Institute also functioned as a facilitating platform from which other independent projects could spring. One such example is the close and fruitful cooperation between The Royal Art Academy in Copenhagen and the Lithuanian Art Academy, initiated by the rector of the Danish Academy, Mikkel Bøgh, and the active and talented Prof. Henrik B Andersen, who has been a professor at the Vilnius Academy of Art in Lithuania since 2008, and who is still a central figure making connections between Lithuania and Denmark. In the field of media and film, thousands of professionals have been trained, and many films coproduced. Especially in the 1990s but to this day, the bilateral cooperation is strong within film and media. The Baltic Centre for Media Excellence in Riga plays a very useful role in facilitating wider cooperation in the field of media. Likewise, the many projects in and around all parts of civil society have also flourished. It is important here to stress that the cooperation with the Danish Embassy in Vilnius has been strong over the years. In many projects, the embassy has been able to serve as both host, co-organiser, fundraiser and as an important supporter. 268

DEMOCRACY PROGRAMME THEN AND TODAY An important element in financing the many people-to-people contacts between Denmark and Lithuania was the Democracy Programme, administered by the Danish Ministry of Foreign Affairs, which gave small grants to civil society/grassroots initiatives. The money was disbursed quickly and the formal procedures were simple. It led to a very wide and colourful group of organisations, people, NGOs and grassroot organisations finding new partners across the Baltic Sea. Many of the study visits and exchange programmes involved the Danish Cultural Institute, which acted as an important and inspiring facilitator and/or contributor. The success of the programme has inspired Jeppe Kofod, Minister of Foreign Affairs of Denmark, to launch the New Democracy Fund, focusing now on the EU Neighbours in the East – Belarus, Ukraine, Georgia, Azerbaijan and Moldova – where civil society is still struggling to establish or strengthen democratic institutions and promote human rights. This time around the Danish Cultural Institute and Project Director Simon Drewsen Holmberg are again acting as key facilitators, since the institute heads a consortium of organisations responsible for implementing projects in the neighbouring countries. Vilnius will act as an important headquarters for executing the initiative. CULTURE CREATES OUR COMMON HISTORY As an illustration of the many activities that the Danish Cultural Institute is involved in presently, the following projects should be highlighted: DANISH GOLDEN AGE OF PAINTING As part of the celebration of 100 years of diplomatic relations between Denmark and Lithuania in 2021, the exhibition “Awakening of Nations” is scheduled to officially open in September 2021, at Vytautas CHAPTER 14

269

Kasiulis art museum in Vilnius, Lithuania. It is a lavish exhibition of masterpieces from the Danish Golden Age of painting. For the occasion, rooms in the beautiful neoclassical building have been prepared, enabling the Lithuanian public to enjoy classical Danish art, curated in a modern context. The exhibition aims at highlighting the two nations’ inter-historical relations, as well as the different ways national stories are constructed and interpreted through art. The theme for the exhibition is national feeling and identity, something Lithuania has had to rediscover over the last 30 years of regained independence. In the wrong hands, nationalism can turn ugly and destructive. However, it can also be used as a powerful weapon against an oppressive foreign regime, such as the Soviet Union occupying Lithuania. Stories, rituals, symbols and to a large extent also works of art, can help to establish a shared historical and visual memory and create a common recollection that increases the understanding of what unites us. In Denmark, the artistic expression of the 19th century is often used to strengthen the cohesion and the idea of a common national affiliation. H.C. Andersen’s fairy tales, Adam Oehlenschläger’s national anthem and N.F.S. Grundtvig’s hymns are given special national significance. The same can be said of the Golden Age painters, whose work of art have been reproduced in many different contexts, helping to shape the national collective memory of Denmark. The title of the exhibition is inspired by the book of the Danish author Åge Meyer Benedictsen, The Awakening of a Nation: A Study of the Past and Present of the Lithuanian people, which was first published in 1895 (see chapter 1). The title describes well that patriotic and romantic movements were taking place both in Denmark and Lithuania almost in parallel, though a little less than a hundred years apart. Although the two nations were in very different situations, they were both in search of their unique national identities. In the Lithuanian context of today, the question of national affiliation and the uncovering of the national character also fills much of the cultural life, where the long historical lines stretching back to Lithuania’s earlier periods as an independent nation are explored. The Danish Cultural Institute and the Danish Embassy in Lithuania are co-organisers of the project, along with the National Gallery of Art of Lithuania. 270

KAUNAS – CAPITAL OF CULTURE 2022 In 2017, the former capital and second-largest city in Lithuania, Kaunas, was awarded the title of European Capital of Culture 2022. Kaunas has taken the task head-on, and is launching an ambitious program of cultural and artistic activities spanning a sea of different genres – visual arts, music, theatre, literature, new media and technologies and interdisciplinary projects. The theme of the program is contemporaneity: With the title “Contemporary Capital”, Kaunas tries both to approach its fragmented history and to look ahead through an open dialogue that is curated by the arts and that actively involves the local people. The hope is that with greater self-understanding and through the establishment of new collaborations, new and more sustainable and contemporary traditions can be created for the area. The hard work done by the Lithuanian people in reimagining and redefining their cultural identity has many ways of expressing itself. During the European Capital of Culture 2022, one of the many important projects is the Contemporary Neighbourhoods initiative, which is held by Kaunas 2022 from June to September 2021. As the name suggests, Contemporary Neighbourhoods is an attempt to make culture-hungry villages and districts in the greater Kaunas area more contemporary and modern. A number of different art and cultural activities will be launched, which will be based on the unique history and traditions of the local areas in an attempt to create new ‘mythologies’. On this occasion, the Danish Cultural Institute has the great privilege of contributing to the shaping of Lithuania’s new cultural identity and history. The Kaunas 2022 organisation behind the programme has invited the Danish-based artist Marit Benthe Norheim to contribute to the project with a number of artistic activities. The result has been an art project that, on the one hand, builds on the Kaunas region’s distinctive history, identity and needs, and also, on the other hand, offers renewed reflection and dialogue and adds new artistic input to the area. The project planned will consist of an already existing collection of mobile angel sculptures, Rolling Angels, which has been displayed in major European cities. The sculptures will be moved to Lithuania where they will be rolled and pushed by the locals through the village of Linksmakalnis, outside Kaunas. CHAPTER 14

271

YOUTH WORK THROUGH CULTURE To commemorate the 100 years of Lithuanian independence, a largescale project titled Film LT100 was launched in 2018, in collaboration with the Lithuanian Film Centre and the Danish Embassy in Lithuania. The goal was to teach Lithuanian schoolchildren aged 7-16 years how to make short films through innovative Danish teaching methods, with the purpose of developing their creative education while also familiarising them with the media. The initiative was presented on 20-21 September 2018 in the Atomic Garden in Vilnius, where Lithuanian teachers participated in a workshop with Kasper B. Olesen from the Danish production company Lommefilm in order to learn about the different ways children can be engaged in producing and reflecting on creative films. In a modern, digitalised world of constant audio-visual stimulation and information flow, it is important that children learn critical thinking at an early age by becoming familiar with the mechanisms of different media. Being an IT-country is something Denmark has learned to excel at. Therefore, teaching this to Lithuanian school children and passing on knowledge that has become quintessentially Danish, whilst also helping to give the younger generations of Lithuanians the best possible opportunity to succeed, becomes even more important when celebrating the 100-year anniversary of Danish-Lithuanian ties. The Danish Cultural Institute has also arranged a nationwide essay competition in which children and young people submitted their own bids based on the works of Hans Christian Andersen, thereby getting to know the famous Dane even better. The final event of the essay competition took place in the Panevėžys Puppet Wagon Theatre. BETTER LIVING – CULTURE DRIVEN URBAN PLANNING As part of the ambitious Kaunas 2022 lead-up, the Embassy of Denmark in Lithuania and the Danish Cultural Institute helped co-organise “Scandinavian Days” on 1-7 April 2019. On that occasion, the renowned Danish architect Jan Gehl agreed to make his way to Vilnius to talk about the journey from idea to actual inception and delivery 272

of liveable cities, with a focus on Copenhagen and Vilnius, and then to Kaunas as part of his exhibition “Changing Mindsets”, dedicated to his foundational work as a theorist, researcher and writer on human behaviour in an urban context. Jan Gehl has been working for decades to improve the quality of city spaces both in Copenhagen and around the world. The two-day lecture series was filled with interested listeners who travelled from near and far to hear about architecture and how Jan Gehl’s ideas could be implemented in a Lithuanian setting, but also about Copenhagen and the development many cities have undergone lately to become more “people-friendly” compared to previously seen “car-friendly” city models. The exhibition was well received by locals in Kaunas. Attendees described it as inspiring and important in the context of Lithuania and the Baltics in general. Recent ongoing hot debates on the public spaces in Lithuanian cities have revealed the need to involve sensitive analysis of public spaces in the planning processes. In this context, events such as Jan Gehl’s participation in Scandinavian Days become even more crucial. Another ongoing project by the Danish Cultural Institute, with a similar aim to that of the Jan Gehl talks, is the substantially larger scale UrbCulturalPlanning. Spearheaded by the Institute, the UrbCulturalPlanning project (another “flagship project” of the EU Baltic Sea Region Strategy and supported by EU Interreg) is a cross-border partnership consisting of 14 project partners, including Vilnius Gediminas Technical University, and 36 associated organisations in eight different countries. The idea behind the project, which was started in 2019, was the fact that culture and creativity can be an engine for urban innovation. Through the organisation of Urban Labs, conferences, cultural mapping, gamification, artist residencies and more, UrbCulturalPlanning tries to include and empower local NGOs and associations to collaborate on citizen-driven cultural planning. In recent years, the Baltic countries have seen an unfortunate decline in population, as younger people tend to go abroad in search of job opportunities. However, by empowering citizens and local stakeholders, the hope is that bettering the infrastructure and living spaces will bring back the desire to stay. In Lithuania, Vilnius and Visaginas are the centres for the project activities, but with the help of the Lithuanian NGO Laimikis CHAPTER 14

273

and dedicated municipalities around the country, Lithuania is in the process of creating more cultural planning activities. CREATIVE PORTS One of the bigger projects in which the Danish Cultural Institute is a partner is Creative Ports, which, just like UrbCulturalPlanning, is an EU Interreg crossborder project. The aim for the Creative Ports project is to improve and encourage cooperation between actors in the cultural and creative industries in the Baltic Sea Region by sharing knowledge and experiences of internationalisation. The project makes it possible for the countries in the Baltic Sea Region to create new and innovative ideas to improve the region in both culture and creativity for the future. The Danish Cultural Institute has joined 13 other project partners representing public authorities, business support organisations, cultural institutes and researchers that all work to promote cultural and creative industries. Other Danish and Lithuanian partners in the project are Filmby Aarhus and the City of Vilnius. This project also plays an important role in the bilateral relations between Denmark and Lithuania, since it enables the two countries to create new networks. WELL-GROUNDED CULTURAL BRIDGE BUILDER When the Danish Cultural Institute celebrated its 25 years anniversary in 2015, Bertel Haarder could once again return to the region – this time as Minister of Culture. At this occasion, he could conclude – as shown in this chapter – that the Institute has established itself as an important and well-grounded player in the cultural landscape, continuing to build strong cultural bridges between Denmark and the Baltic States and addressing shared topical agendas. As illustrated, there have been and there are hundreds of cultural connections between Lithuania and Denmark. They will continue and they will find new forms. The perspective of this chapter and the examples presented have been Danish, and thereby it has not given credit to the many world-class 274

Lithuanian artists who have inspired Danish counterparts and pleased Danish audiences within almost all cultural sectors, including the fine arts. A fine example hereof in 2021 was – when the coronavirus pandemic was sufficiently under control and allowed theatres to reopen – the opera performance “Sun and Sea” created by the three Lithuanian artists Rugile Barzdziukaite, Vaiva Grainyte and Lina Lapelyte. The piece, which has received great international acclaim for its humorous, beautiful and innovative performance, successfully visited Copenhagen in May-June. Many other examples could be mentioned. A symbol of the equal cultural partnership will be presented in September 2021 in Vilnius, when a Danish, Estonian, Latvian and Lithuanian quartet will give a special concert when celebrating both 100 years of diplomatic relations and 30 years of re-established diplomatic relations. Nowadays, Denmark, Lithuania, Latvia and Estonia are also true partners when reaching out to friends and neighbours in Belarus and the rest of the Eastern Partnership countries via the New Democracy Fund (see box). The scope of activities of the Danish Cultural Institute has been expanded, but the core of the Institute remains 30 years of positive Baltic experience that has contributed to building mutual understanding and trust between Denmark and Lithuania (and Latvia and Estonia).

CHAPTER 14

275

CHAPTER 15

30 YEARS OF RESEARCH AND HIGHER EDUCATION COOPERATION BETWEEN LITHUANIA AND DENMARK By Erik Albæk, Professor in Journalism and Political Science, University of Southern Denmark Professor Erik Albæk gives his personal account of how the pioneering educational exchanges between Denmark and Lithuania began by inviting students to the University of Aarhus. Later, the cooperation expanded to also covering educational reforms and reforms of the universities in general, where the regional cooperation within

My personal engagement with the three Baltic countries very precisely began on November 22, 1989, in Turku, Finland. I had attended an academic conference at Åbo Akademi University and, as is often the case in Finland, there was no shortage of alcohol during the conference dinner. We were a handful of scholars who ended up in the ghastly heart-shaped spa of Hotel King Henrik’s bridal suite. At some point our conversation fell on the recent fall of the Berlin Wall and what changes this might bring about in the Soviet Union. We also got to talking about the three Baltic countries, located only a short flying distance from Finland. Maybe the intake of alcohol helped us when we began generating ideas of how we might get into contact with Baltic colleagues and offer to bring them into our Nordic academic networks if they wished. At the time, my knowledge of the Baltic countries was shamefully limited. They were known as a string of words in Danish: Estland, CHAPTER 15

277

Letland, Litauen. But if someone had asked me about their precise location, or worse, the names of their capitals, I would have been at a loss. My lack of knowledge of the Baltic countries testifies to how fast (the history of ) the countries east of the Iron Curtain were forgotten in the post-WWII Danish educational system. From a Danish perspective, they were, so to speak, lost land. This also meant that my Nordic colleagues and I were unaware that political science, our own academic discipline, did not exist as a discipline in its own right in the Soviet system of higher educational. ‘Politology’ was a mandatory introduction to academic thinking for all Soviet students, much like the former ‘filosofikum’ at Danish universities. ‘Politology’, however, was not an introduction to philosophical and academic reasoning, but to the right interpretations of Marx’s and Lenin’s thoughts. Personally, I had no prior research interest in the Soviet Union in general nor the Baltic countries specifically. To me, the situation in late 1989 was an opportunity to reach out and offer help. My upbringing in a home with a father who had been a member of the Danish resistance movement during the German occupation of Denmark during WWII probably contributed to my deeply felt sympathy for the freedom movements in the Soviet Union. One of the ideas that came to my mind during my discussion with my Nordic colleagues was to establish a programme allowing young Baltic students to spend one academic year at my then home institution, the Department of Political Science at the University of Aarhus. When, upon my return to Aarhus, I mentioned the idea at my department, it immediately found support from both management and colleagues. My colleague Ole Nørgaard, whose research concentrated on the Soviet Union, and who, as a former language intelligent officer in the Danish defence forces, spoke fluent Russian, was enthusiastic. His engagement in the project was decisive for its launch and implementation. With whole-hearted support from the department head, Peter Gundelach, I was put in charge of establishing a programme that would allow 10 young Balts from neighbouring academic disciplines to spend one year studying political science at the master’s level at Aarhus University. We faced two big challenges. First, we needed 278

to raise money to finance the students’ tickets to/from and stay in Aarhus. At the time there were no public funds earmarked for such purposes. We therefore had to turn to the Danish private sector for financial support. We had no experience in fundraising, but argued that it was of utmost importance to Danish companies that the Baltic countries had a well-functioning public sector if their economies were opened for trade and investment. Our message was well received. In the early autumn of 1990, we had had generated sufficient funding to invite the first group of Baltic students to arrive in Aarhus in January 1991. The students would receive a monthly allowance equal to what Danish students received from the government. We also received many donations in kind. SAS donated the students’ return airfare. Families in Aarhus with spare rooms offered to let the Baltic students stay with them for free. A bicycle dealer donated 10 used bikes. A clothing retailer gave each student a gift card worth 1000 DKK to be used in his shop. A butcher provided all food for a get-together party for the Baltic students and their Danish student mentors. The School of Dentistry offered to fix the students’ teeth. A book shop donated free text books. Et cetera. The mayor of Aarhus, Thorkild Simonsen, personally and warmly welcomed the students. The second challenge was to get into contact with people in the Baltic countries with whom we could cooperate. No one in the department had Baltic contacts. The Danish embassy in Moscow obtained permission for us to contact the educational authorities in the Baltic counties, and fortunately they expressed interest in our project. In April 1990, Ole Nørgaard and I went to Estonia and Latvia to meet with civil servants from the local ministries of education; we were not granted permission to visit Lithuania, due to the country’s independence declaration, which had been adopted on March 11, 1990, but corresponded with Lithuanian civil servants via their Estonian and Latvian colleagues. We signed an agreement and were given contacts at universities in all three countries. In November that year, Peter Gundelach and Ole Nørgaard went to Riga to interview a pool of 30 male candidates, of whom 10 were selected for a scholarship – four from Estonia and three each from Latvia and Lithuania. We informed our Baltic colleagues that for future selections, we needed both male and female candidates! CHAPTER 15

279

Communication with our Baltic colleagues was cumbersome. This was prior to e-mail correspondence. Fast communication was handled by fax. Unfortunately, there were few telephone lines to the Baltic countries and they were mostly busy, even during the night. Several times I went to my department in the middle of the night and tried to send and resend a fax over and over and over again before finally: YES, it went through. In January 1991, we received the first group of Baltic students at the train station in Aarhus. They were easy to spot among the passengers in the busy train station: Their clothes looked different and so did their spectacles and haircuts! They came from the neighbouring disciplines of political science, but were nonetheless able to follow the courses they enrolled in, all instructed in English. We also designed a special course for them introducing them to political science and to Danish politics and society. As part of the course, several excursions were organized, including a full week in Copenhagen where they visited Parliament and spoke to several politicians, the central bank, labour unions, etc. At their own request, the students also visited the Freetown Christiania, and were amazed how the freetown’s anti-materialist values had materialised in TV satellite dishes! We had contacted The Norden Association, whose members offered to host the students during their visit. The Association

Picture taken after His Royal Highness the Crown Prince has given a lecture for the third team of Baltic students in Aarhus. Photo: Private

280

offered a similar arrangement when the students spent an extended weekend in Sæby in Northern Jutland. The students also requested a lecture on the role of the monarchy in a modern democracy, mentioning how, only 10 years earlier, Spanish King Juan Carlos had been instrumental in resisting a coup d’état in 1981. We contacted a fellow political science student of theirs, whom we considered an expert on the subject: Crown Prince Frederik. He agreed – also in years to come – to lecture on the Danish monarchy for our Baltic students. This was an eyeopener to them. In the Soviet Union, they could get nowhere near a VIP. Here, they met a Danish crown prince in jeans and dressed casually as any other student of political science. They barely noticed his bodyguards, who kept themselves invisible outside the lecture room. For some of the Baltic students, their first meeting with Prince Frederik began a contact they have kept. They have had several warm reunions under both official and private circumstances. The first 10 Baltic students in Aarhus were the most successful group of students I have ever taught. In their careers, three have been ambassadors, two ministers of foreign affairs, one MEP, one EU director-general, several civil servants, two with impressive careers in the private sector, and one associate professor in political science. Among the Lithuanian students were Vygaudas Ušackas, who was chief negotiator of Lithuania’s accession to the EU, ambassador to the US, Mexico, and Great Britain, minister of foreign affairs, EU special envoy (i.e. ambassador) for Afghanistan and later Russia and today has a career in business; and Rytis Martikonis, ambassador to the EU and today EU director-general. Our opportunities to run our programme at Aarhus University were greatly improved when, in 1990, the Danish Parliament established ‘Demokratifonden’, a fund aimed at supporting the democratic transition primarily in Central and Eastern Europe and the former Soviet Union. It was still cumbersome to run our programme, since we could only obtain funding per year, so the funding horizon for our programme was always short, and we often were notified of funding only shortly before the next group of students was to arrive in Aarhus. Soon, the EU made students from the former East Bloc countries eligible for various student mobility grants, in particular in the Tempus and Erasmus programmes, which then became the prime funding for CHAPTER 15

281

Baltic students at Aarhus University. Like the first 10 students, later Baltic students in Aarhus were also very brainy and have had impressive careers. Among the Lithuanian students in Aarhus in following years were, for instance, ambassadors Darius Semaška, Aušra Semaškeinė, and Vidmantas Purlys. Whenever possible, I still meet with my former Baltic students – in Denmark or abroad. Their year in Aarhus not only was an opportunity for the Baltic students to learn and get exposed to a Danish society and a democratic system of government. It was also a rewarding experience for our Danish students. In those years, we began to receive a sufficient number of foreign students to allow us to offer courses in English, in which Danish and foreign students were co-taught and thus exposed to experiences and perspectives different from their own. I, myself, taught a course on Ethics and Public Policy. Meeting foreign students in the course was an eyeopener to the Danish students. One of the topics we discussed was abortion. Danes were and are overwhelmingly pro-choice. Therefore, my Danish students only heard pro-life arguments when extreme and often violent pro-life actions in the US were reported in the Danish press. They were never introduced to mainstream pro-choice arguments, which basically are philosophically more coherent than pro-life arguments (pro-lifers do not need to establish the very moment when a foetus changes from being only a biological substance that can be removed to becoming a person who cannot be killed). Now my Danish students met Catholic Lithuanians and heard sensible arguments that called for further reflection. A Belgian student enrolled in the course informed his peers of how the involuntarily childless and devout Catholic Belgian King Baudouin had recently asked the Belgian Parliament to declare him insane for one day, which, according to the Belgian constitution, allowed the speaker of parliament to sign, in lieu of the King, a Bill legalising abortion, and thus to turn it into law. POLITICAL SCIENCE IN THE BALTIC COUNTIES When we first approached the educational authorities in the Baltic countries and through them were brought into contact with Baltic universities, it was not all clear to us exactly who our contacts were. This soon changed. 282

Within a few years, all three Baltic countries had established political science departments and study programmes. In Lithuania, the Institute of International Relations and Political Science (IIRPS) was founded on February 7, 1992 by an agreement of Vilnius University and the Supreme Committee for the Liberation of Lithuania, and became the first political science department in independent Lithuania. The first IIRPS director, Egidijus Kūris, was a lawyer. The remaining staff likewise came from neighbouring disciplines. Since political science had not been taught in the Soviet system of higher education, the new bachelor’s and later master’s programmes in political science did not have to take institutional traditions into account, but could be designed from scratch. When designing their new study programmes, the IIRPS founders looked towards Anglo-Saxon and Scandinavian countries and copy-pasted what they found there, both in terms of structure and content. This was precisely what the founding fathers (they were all men!) of Danish political science did when they established the first political science study programme in Denmark in the late 1950s (Albæk 2020). By doing so, the IIRPS from the very start introduced the two-cycle study programme structure, undergraduate and graduate, recommended for European institutions of higher education in the 1999 Bologna declaration, Lithuanian being among the signing counties. The IIRPS hereby avoided the sometimes-painful adaption to the Bologna Declaration experienced in many West European countries. This was also the structure adopted by other Lithuanian universities when they established their political science study programmes, as the Kaunas-based Vytautas Magnus University did in 1996. In the first years of the IIRPS, teachers were not trained in political science, nor in interactive teaching, and there was a significant shortage of books, study materials, etc. Had someone, at the beginning of the 1990s, asked me whether, within a decade, there would be fully functioning political science BA- and MA-level study programmes in Lithuania, my definite answer would have been: no. Nonetheless, despite the vast challenges facing the newly established political science department, the IIRPS was tremendously successful and educated its students according to the standards found at many West European and US universities. The number of students who, upon the completion of their BA in Lithuania, were accepted at and, with flying colours, graduated from MA programmes at West European or US universities testify to the successful CHAPTER 15

283

transformation that Lithuanian universities underwent after the country regained independence. From IIRPS, amongst many others, professor Ramūnas Vilpišauskas graduated from Lancaster University in 1996 and professor Vitalis Nakrošis in 1998 from London School of Economics, both with distinction. At the end of the 1990s and the beginning of the 2000s, IIRPS – and later other Lithuanian universities – established their own MA and PhD programmes. Contributing to the success of the IIPRS was the visibility in public life of IIRPS staff, and in particular its first directors, Egidijus Kūris (1992-1999) and Raimundas Lopata (1999-2009). Many young Lithuanians were eager to serve their country as civil servants, particularly in the foreign service, and the IIRPS study programme aimed for its students to pursue such careers. It provided IIRPS with tremendous prestige among young Lithuanians. The institute could pick and choose the best and the brightest of a cohort of students. The high visibility of IIRPS was maintained during the tenure of the following director, Ramūnas Vilpišauskas (2009-2019). Not only did IIRPS gain a high reputation in the general public and among high school students who, on a regular basis, saw IIRPS staff serve as expert commentators in the media, it also quickly became highly regarded among Lithuanian law and policy makers. Many staff members, for longer and shorter periods, filled positions in the Lithuanian politico-administrative system – in the president’s, the prime minister’s, and the foreign minister’s offices, as well as in many other ministries and public agencies. Even when they were employed full-time at IIRPS, they extensively advised and consulted the president, ministers and public agencies. And still do. ’Demokratifonden’ and the EU not only supported young Balts studying at Danish universities. It also financed the retraining of Baltic teaching staff. The Department of Political Science in Aarhus organized several teaching seminars both in Aarhus and in the Baltic countries, where Baltic colleagues familiarised themselves with core political science curricula and Western teaching methods and technologies. The Department of Political Science in Aarhus was among the first Nordic social science institutions to establish contacts with the Baltic counties. However, we soon became aware that many others were likewise eager to offer their assistance. This was true of other Danish 284

university institutions and of other Nordic university institutions. As far as Denmark was concerned, the establishment of ‘Demokratifonden’ was a most welcome cash injection allowing a broad range of Danish university institutions within the social sciences, but also within many other academic disciplines, to interact with their Baltic colleagues. The Fund also allowed intense interaction between a broad range of Danish public and civil society organisations and their Baltic counterparts. In general, the newly liberated Baltic countries were warmly embraced by all aspects of Danish society. EUROFACULTY At the founding meeting of the Council of Baltic Sea States in 1992, it was decided to create a EuroFaculty with the aim of reforming the Baltic universities in Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania to Western standards with respect to economics, political science, and law. Funding was to be provided by the CBSS member states and the EU Commission. The EuroFaculty existed 1992-2005. It had its headquarters at the University of Riga with centres (and vice-directors) at each of the universities in Tartu, Riga and Vilnius. The Faculty Board’s first chairman was my Aarhus University colleague, Professor Nikolaj Petersen. According to its statutes, the principal aims of EuroFaculty were to: • Introduce and transform core curricula in each academic field up to and including the master’s degree level to internationally accepted academic standards. • Retrain and train local academic staff and new professionals to ensure that the host universities had the means to sustain the new curriculum. • Develop libraries and computer networks in support of teaching and research at the host universities. EuroFaculty meant a tremendous boost to the reformation of social science education at Baltic universities. When visiting IRRPS today in the beautifully renovated building in Vokiečių Street 10, where it is now located, with its modern teaching and research facilities, it is CHAPTER 15

285

hard to imagine that, when the institute was founded, there were no library or computer facilities, no textbooks or appropriate teaching materials for students, and no teachers with training in anything but ex cathedra teaching. The situation was similar at all other Baltic university departments. We had, however, been able to previously help the Department of Political Science in Riga establish a rudimentary library. When my brother heard about my engagement with Baltic universities, he informed me of a burnt down US university library that had reached out to alumni and asked them to search their bookshelves and donate academic books they no longer used. I therefore contacted DJØF, the union of business and social science graduates in Denmark. They agreed to run an advertisement in their members’ magazine encouraging university graduates to donate academic books to Baltic universities. The donations were overwhelming. When the books were packed, they were contained in close to 100 moving boxes. But now we faced the problem of how to ship the books to the political science department Riga, which we decided would become the main beneficiary of the book donation. One night in the spring of 1992, when I visited an Aarhus bar with Crown Prince Frederik, he informed me that he had decided, for the first time ever, to accompany his parents, the Queen and the Prince Consort, on an official state visit abroad – to Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania. I therefore asked him if it might be possible for the Royal Family to bring the books to Riga when sailing there. Prince Frederik saw no reason for this not to be possible and contacted, the following day, the captain of the royal yacht, who then organized the transportation of the books. Prince Frederik also agreed to hand over the donation to the University of Riga. It was arranged that the handover ceremony would take place at a time when the Queen and the Price Consort were attending an organ concert in the Riga dome, allowing the Danish press corps to be present at the university ceremony. In the middle of the ceremony, we suddenly heard what appeared to be a herd of elephants rushing down the corridor, and the door to our hall was slammed open. In came the full Danish press corps, led by royal reporter Bodil Cath. Latvian academics and journalists were got firsthand lesson in Western press behaviour. The Latvian journalists were intimidated, and got no opportunity to take photos or ask questions 286

The Baltic students in Erik Albæk‘s apartment in Vilnius after a reservation at a local pub had been canceled. Photo: Private

of the Crown Prince. After the Danish press corps had left, I quietly organized a quick opportunity for the dumbfounded Latvian journalists to take the photos and ask questions. It was, however, EuroFaculty which funded modern research libraries and provided textbooks and other teaching materials to be handed from one cohort of students to the next, and computer facilities. This coincided with the expansion of and increased use of the Internet, allowing students and staff to download academic articles and other materials when writing student papers or conducting research. Much faster than expected, this gave Baltic students and academic staff access to important materials available to their Western counterparts. EuroFaculty recruited foreign lecturers to work for longer periods at the Baltic universities. They came from Denmark, Norway, the United Kingdom, Finland, Sweden, the U.S., the Netherlands, and Germany. Their extended stay in one of the Baltic counties served two purposes. They were to assist the three social science disciplines at the three universities in transforming their core curricula, both with regard to the overall structure of the BA- as well as MA-level programmes, and with regard to the structure and the mandatory as well as supplementary CHAPTER 15

287

literature of the individual courses. This was primarily achieved through the fulfilment of the second purpose: the foreign lecturers were to retrain and train local academic staff. This was done efficiently by assigning to each foreign lecturer five locals to assist them: two teaching associates, two student teaching assistants and a student research assistant. During my own tenure as EuroFaculty professor at Vilnius University 2000-2001, Vitalis Nakrošis and Klaudijus Maniokas served as my teaching associates. By co-teaching with Western lecturers, local teaching associates and student teaching assistants were trained in moderns teaching techniques, such as interactive teaching, teamwork, and problem-solving. Not only did local staff need to be acquainted with new philosophies of teaching and learning and new teaching techniques, the students also had to get accustomed to new ways of interacting with their professors. In discussions and problem-solving, teachers do not necessarily have the authoritatively correct answer, but are to be seen as equal discussion partners. The students were no longer to be assessed only by how well they were able to recollect and reproduce assigned literature; they also needed to form their own independent opinion in an informed manner. It was difficult to get students to adjust to such new teaching situations in a country where the authority of professors was not questioned. When serving as EuroFaculty professor in Vilnius, I first fully realised professors’ high status in Lithuanian society when I visited the Antakalnis Cemetery. Next to the cemetery’s Soviet Nomenklatura section, another VIP section contains the graves of famous Lithuanian poets, authors, actors, composers – and university professors! In an attempt to make my students, teaching associates, student teaching assistants, and student research assistant reduce their perceived distance to me, I asked them to address me by my first name. I was fully aware that, by doing so, I intruded on the culture and traditions of my host country. When addressing persons outside the circle of friends and family, Lithuanians still use the formal you. Also, many Lithuanian children still address their grandparents by the formal you. However, I found no other means to reduce the distance between my students and me. It definitely was not easy for them, and they constantly attempted to avoid saying just Erik, for instance by addressing me as “Professor Erik” or speaking of me in third person: “As our lecturer just argued…”. At one point, I 288

invited my students for a drink at the Brodvėjus pub in central Vilnius. Somehow the booking had gone wrong, so upon arrival, there were no tables reserved for us. I therefore suggested that we instead go to my nearby apartment in Stiklių gatvė, although some of the 30 students had to find a seat on the floor. To be invited to the home of one of their professors was beyond the imagination of my students. On our way to the apartment, a female student asked if it was normal for Danish professors to invite their students to their homes. I responded: ”No, it is not normal, but some do. Including me: I take pride in not being normal!” My students clearly enjoyed the evening. And it had the hope-for effect: For the rest of the semester, the teaching and learning atmosphere became less formal, and we interacted more freely. Including foreign professors, local teaching associates, student teaching assistants, student research assistants, three vice-directors and administrative staff, the EuroFaculty employed around 100 people annually. The EuroFaculty successfully attracted a large number of outstanding Baltic students to its programs. Many former students became university lecturers and professors, others became highly qualified staff in the national banks and central administrations in the Baltic states, as well as in international organizations, such as the EU, the World Trade Organization and the World Bank. Several members of the Baltic parliaments and ministers are EuroFaculty alumni. Although EuroFaculty was a huge success, during its whole existence the Faculty was haunted by a number of organizational, staff, and financial challenges, as chronicled in detail by former EuroFaculty director Gustav Kristensen in his 2010 book Born into a Dream: EuroFaculty and the Council of the Baltic Sea States. RESEARCH Social science research on Baltic affairs was non-existent in Denmark and sparse in the Baltic countries prior to the restitution of independence in 1991. However, it soon changed. At the political science department in Aarhus, a number of scholars specialising in the Soviet Union soon took an interest in the Baltic countries. The first was Ole Nørgaard. Parallel to his engagement in CHAPTER 15

289

the programme allowing Baltic students to study political science one year in Aarhus, Ole began to consider how he could teach and research Baltic affairs. In the spring of 1992, he offered a graduate course on the transformation of the Baltic countries. Thirty students were enrolled in the course. Ten were assigned to each of the three Baltic countries, and they were divided into four groups, one focusing on economic transition, one on democratic transition, one on minority issues and one on foreign policy. They went on a 14-day fact-finding tour to their assigned country and collected data. At the time, Baltic policy-makers, both ministers and members of parliament, as well as civil servants or other well-informed sources, did not have many requests for interviews, so the students got easy access to sources with first-hand knowledge. The students collected invaluable information which Ole and colleagues, with the consent of the students, used to produce the first truly comparative analysis of the transition of the Baltic countries (Nørgaard & Johannsen 1999). One of the students who enrolled in the course was Crown Prince Frederik who, with a fellow student, wrote a paper on the emerging foreign policy of Latvia. Here Prince Frederik’s enduring compassion for the Baltic countries began. When he wrote his master’s thesis, he expanded his focus and wrote a comparative analysis of the emerging foreign policy of Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania. I have never – before or since – read a master’s thesis with such an impressive list of sources: Prince Frederik interviewed the presidents, prime ministers, foreign ministers and a host of other sources in all three Baltic countries. It was not only Crown Prince Frederik who became interested in the transition of the Baltic countries. In the following years, a number of his fellow students followed suit when writing their master’s theses. Likewise, Ole Nørgaard and his colleagues in their research started focusing on Baltic affairs; in the subsequent years, they published a great number of books and articles either with an exclusive or partial focus on the Baltic countries or (e.g. Nørgaard & Johansen 1999; Nørgaard 2000). The same happened in other Nordic countries, for instance with Swedish political scientist Sten Berglund (e.g. Berglund & Dellenbrant 1994) and Norwegian Frank Aarebrot (Berglund & Aarebrot 1997). They fostered PhD students whose theses focused on Baltic affairs, for instance, Lars Johannsen in Aarhus (2000) and Ketil Duvold in Örebro (Duvold 2006; cf. also Duvold, Berglund & Ekman 2020). 290

During their first years, the newly founded or reformed Baltic social science departments concentrated on teaching. No funding was dedicated to research. To the extent that staff did research, it was all on their own initiative, con amore and without financial or other types of support from their institutions. Teachers’ salaries were low, and most university lecturers had second jobs to secure sufficient income. So much more impressive was the research dedication of a number of young, bright scholars who, despite all odds, succeeded in writing doctoral dissertations in the 2000s with a focus on Baltic affairs. At IIRPS, Ramūnas Vilpišauskas, in 2000, defended his thesis on the impact of the EU on trilateral Baltic cooperation (2000); in 2004, Vitalis Nakrošis defended his thesis on Lithuania’s adaptation to EU cohesion policy (2004); and in 2006, Mindaugas Jurkynas defended his thesis on the formation of a regional political Baltic identity (2007). EuroFaculty managed to provide some funding for the research for these young scholars. For instance, in 2003 Vitalis Nakrošis was a visiting scholar at my then home institution, Aalborg University. Even prior to EuroFaculty, there were initiatives to invite Baltic researchers to academic conferences in Denmark. In 1992 a major conference was organized in Aalborg and some travel funding was provided for Baltic scholars. However, during a visit to the Baltic countries, I realised that the funding was not sufficient for my Baltic colleagues to participate. I therefore contacted family and friends in Aalborg and asked them to host my Baltic colleagues for five days. Another example of Baltic participation was the conference of the Nordic Political Science Association in Reykjavik in 2005, where its board provided travel funding for Baltic colleagues. There were few means to carry out social science research in the Baltic countries. The university departments had no funding earmarked for research, and there were no public research councils or private foundations where academic staff could apply for funding. Sometimes Baltic social science scholars were invited to join international projects funded in other countries or by the EU. From 2001-2005, I was chairman of the Danish Social Science Research Council, and as such I was also a member or chairman of a number of international cooperative arrangements among research councils. I was constantly trying to invite the Baltic countries into such arrangements. This sometimes happened CHAPTER 15

291

as far as Estonia was concerned, because it established a council funding social science research, but cooperation with Latvia and Lithuania was made difficult because no similar council existed in those countries. END The Baltic colleagues who in the early 1990s took the initiative to transform Lithuanian social science teaching programmes to Western standards and the young colleagues who followed suit and further developed the programmes, so that Lithuania today offers fully upto-standard programmes at both the BA and MA levels, deserve the greatest admiration and respect. To me, the chance to contribute to this development has been a privilege and an honour. I tremendously cherish the close professional and personal relationships I, over the years, developed with my Baltic students and colleagues; they mean a lot to me. I have kept in contact with both former Lithuanian students and colleagues. I meet with them whenever possible. When I visit my brother in Brussels, he allows me to invite my former Baltic students for dinner at his home, for instance directors-general Henrik Hololei from Estonia and Rytis Martikonis from Lithuania. When, just before the COVID-19 pandemic closed down Europe, I was a visiting professor at the University of Amsterdam, my first student research assistant, Danish Ambassador Jens-Otto Horslund, invited me for dinner in his residence. On that occasion, he also invited his Lithuanian colleague, my former student ambassador Vidmantas Purlys.

292

Literature

Albæk, E. (2020). “At gribe de muligheder tilfældighederne giver,” pp. 134147 in P.E. Mouritzen, (ed.), Livet i magtens rugekasse: Fortalt gennem fem generationer. Aarhus: Forlaget Politica. Berglund S. & J.Å. Dellenbrant, eds. (1994). The New Democracies in Eastern Europe. Cheltenham, UK: Edward Elgar Publishing. Berglund, S. & F.H. Aarebrot (1997). The Political History of Eastern Europe in the 20th Century. Cheltenham, UK: Edward Elgar Publishing. Duvold, K. (2006). Making Sense of Baltic Democracy: Public Support and Political Representation in Nationalising States. Örebro: Örebro University. Duvold, K., S. Berglund & J. Ekman (2020). Political Culture in the Baltic States: Between National and European Integration. London: Palgrave Macmillan. Johannsen, L. (2000). The Constitution and Democracy: The Choice and Consequence of the Constitution in Post-Communist Countries. Aarhus: Forlaget Politica. Jurkynas, Mindaugas (2007). How Deep is Your Love: The Baltic Brotherhood Reexamined. Vilnius: IIRPS. Kristensen, G.N. (2010). Born Into a Dream: EuroFaculty and the Council of the Baltic States. Berlin: Berliner Wissenschafts-Verlag. Nakrošis, V. (2004). Lietuvos prisitaikymas prie Europos Sąjungos sanglaudos politikos: institucinė ir viešosios politikos kaita. Vilnius: IIRPS. Nørgaard, O. (2000). Economic Institutions and Democratic Reform: A Comparative Analysis of Post-Communist Countries. Cheltenham, UK: Edward Elgar. Nørgaard, O. & L. Johannsen (1999). The Baltic States After Independence, Second Edition. Cheltenham, UK: Edward Elgar. Vilpišauskas, R. (2000). Regional Integration in Europe: Analyzing Intra-Baltic Economic Co-operation. Florence: European University Institute, Robert Schuman centre, Working paper No. 41, 2000.

CHAPTER 15

293

PART 5

LOOKING AHEAD

CHAPTER 16

TWO WELL-INTEGRATED COUNTRIES AND INTERNATIONAL PARTNERS By Gintė Bernadeta Damušis, Former Lithuanian Ambassador to Denmark Fmr. Lithuanian Ambassador to Denmark Gintė Damušis gives an up-todate perspective on the possibilities for Danish-Lithuanian cooperation in the future, especially within joint support for the countries of the EU’s Eastern Partnership programme.

When Lithuania restored its independence in 1990, Denmark had been one of its strongest supporters. In fact, Denmark took a leading role in providing Lithuania with diplomatic assistance and support. This foreign policy activism by a small Nordic country rocked the boat both at home and abroad. Lithuania remembers the Danish approach well. Denmark seized the challenges and opportunities posed by a dramatically changing world and encouraged others to follow suit. In a world of big powers, Denmark proved that small countries could influence events. The experience of timely and targeted Danish support now inspires Lithuania to do the same. As we mark 100 years of diplomatic relations and 30 years of restored diplomatic relations in 2021, Lithuania celebrates a friendly political relationship, strong defence cooperation, and active trade and investment ties with Denmark. Many links anchor us as friends and allies. We are like-minded on security and defence, we believe in strong alliances and multilateralism, we share democratic values and defend freedom, we see CHAPTER 16

297

the benefits of a single European market, and we know the importance of political and practical cooperation in the Nordic-Baltic region – to name but a few areas of national and mutual interest. In 1989, peaceful demonstrations in Eastern Europe set off a chain of events that culminated in the collapse of the Soviet Union and a miraculous transformation of Europe. One such event was the Baltic Way, when millions of Estonians, Latvians, and Lithuanians linked hands across the Baltic States in a powerful show of support for democracy. Looking back, this human chain was a miracle now etched in our global memory. The dramatic success story of Lithuania and the other Baltic States could have had a much darker and bloodier ending. But with Lithuania’s peaceful transition to democracy and a market economy, and over 30 years of practical experience under its belt, Lithuania now willingly shares this experience with other countries, especially in the EU’s eastern neighbourhood. One of many areas where Lithuanian and Danish interests and cooperation converge is in the EU’s eastern neighbourhood. The Eastern Partnership, initiated by our neighbours Poland and Sweden, is seen as an instrument for developing a stable, secure, and prosperous region around the EU. The EaP was launched in 2009 to fill a void in the overall neighbourhood policies of the EU. It recognized that developments in the region were important for consolidating Europe in the coming years. The idea was initially met with scepticism. Some countries saw it as a financial rival. Others noted practical political challenges. How could six post-Soviet countries (Belarus, Ukraine, Moldova, Armenia, Azerbaijan, and Georgia) be united as an entity under the guise of an Eastern Partnership? But when war broke out between Georgia and Russia, and Russia sought to dismember Georgia by recognizing South Ossetia and Abkhazia as independent states in August 2008, attitudes changed. A plan was quickly approved, and the Partnership was launched a year later. In the run up to the Vilnius Summit of the Eastern Partnership in 2013, the EaP was seen as part of a geopolitical strategy to promote a continent without dividing lines. That summer, Russia altered its policy and launched its own Eurasian Union, indicating that the Kremlin was prepared to do whatever it took to bring member states of the Eastern Partnership back into Russia’s sphere of influence. 298

Foreign Minister of Denmark Jeppe Kofod among European colleges at the Ukraine Reform Conference in Vilnius, July 2021. Photo: Foreign Ministry of Denmark

UKRAINE The Kremlin primarily directed its attention against Ukraine with harsh trade sanctions, hybrid warfare, and other heavy-handed methods ranging from political destabilization to outright military aggression. The right of every nation to freely choose its own course was clearly a principle Moscow could not accept. Military intervention and the violation of Ukraine’s territorial integrity rattled the continent to its core and proved that a Europe whole and free was a yet unattained vision. Perhaps because we are Baltic Sea states, Lithuania and Denmark have a heightened awareness of the EaP neighbourhood, its needs, and challenges. Lithuania makes recommendations, particularly in times of crisis and external pressure, regarding EU eastern neighbourhood policies. In response to Russia’s aggression in Ukraine, both of our countries called for the introduction of sanctions, then for their prolongation, demanding that Russia assume its responsibility in ensuring the full implementation of the Minsk agreements as the key CHAPTER 16

299

condition for any substantial change in the EU’s stance. In addition to economic sanctions, we have also supported other EU measures in place in response to Russia’s illegal annexation of Crimea and the city of Sevastopol and the deliberate destabilization of Ukraine. These include diplomatic measures, individual restrictive measures (asset freezes and travel restrictions), and specific restrictions on economic relations with Crimea and Sevastopol. It thus comes as no surprise that both Lithuania and Denmark have hosted The Ukraine Reform Conference – Denmark in 2018, Lithuania in 2021. This key, annual international event is dedicated to expert discussion on the progress of Ukraine’s reforms. Initiated in 2017, the platform brings together Ukrainian and foreign government officials, representatives of the European Union, NATO, the G7, businesses, and civil society to discuss the results of Ukraine’s reforms, priority goals of the Ukrainian government, as well as support of the international community and investment in Ukraine’s economy. We have assisted one another in the preparatory processes of each conference. Lithuania and Denmark cooperate on the ground as well. Ukraine has been a priority partner for Lithuania’s bilateral cooperation since 2014. Our partnership is implemented through a variety of complementary modalities, including EU-funded programs, international partnerships, and bilateral development cooperation. Lithuania’s focus in particular is on good governance, conflict response, and support for reforms. We seek to share our own reform experience with Ukraine in order to help it move forward on the path of European integration. In response to the needs of post-conflict regions, special attention is given to the healthcare and education sectors, as well as to the empowerment of women, youth, children, and other vulnerable groups that have suffered from Russian military aggression in eastern Ukraine. We have supported youth exchanges, teacher training, and improvement in learning conditions for schools in eastern Ukraine. Lithuanian experts also participate in joint projects in Ukraine, including one with Denmark, and are part of the EU Anti-Corruption Initiative, which is financed by the EU and Denmark and implemented by the Danish Foreign Ministry. The program contributes to reducing corruption in Ukraine at the national and local level through the empowerment of citizens, civil society, businesses, and state institutions. 300

BELARUS Belarus poses a special challenge as the peaceful struggle for a democratic Belarus enters a second year and the Lukashenko regime continues it brutal crackdown – on a scale unprecedented in modern European history – against Belarusian society. This challenge is ever more apparent in light of Belarus’ recent walkout from the Eastern Partnership. Even so, Lithuania continues its two-pronged approach to Belarus. Initially, we recommended incentives for Lukashenko to end violence against the country’s residents and to orient Belarus to the West, but, after the rigged election in August 2020, we proposed sanctions against Minsk, as well as increasing assistance to opposition activists and other Belarusians seeking change. Lithuania continues to extend assistance to residents who no longer want to live under a repressive system based on violence and lies while simultaneously pushing forward on the long-term strategic goal of consolidating democratic values in the EU eastern neighbourhood. Lithuania’s foreign policy towards Belarus stands out in Europe. Belarussian opposition figures flock to Vilnius, which serves as a base of operations for many non-governmental organizations; victims of persecution, such as Belarusian students, IT professionals, and other business owners; and for opposition leader Svetlana Tsikhanouskaya. Vilnius hosts an exiled Belarusian university – the European Humanities University, which caters to students expelled from Belarusian universities for political reasons. The international university promotes civil society development and European values through a Humanities and Liberal Arts education. Lithuania has been a strong supporter of EHU from the start, both politically and financially, and continues to invite donors to allocate funding towards this project. After a 6-year pause, Denmark returned as a donor in 2021with a 300,000 DK contribution from its New Democracy Fund for Belarusian students under threat of expulsion, persecution, or arrest. Lithuania has also funded 100 scholarships for Belarusian students to study at universities in Lithuania and established a Democracy Promotion Foundation for quick response projects which provide assistance to victims of repression in the areas of legal assistance, rehabilitative services, and support for independent media. This includes funding alternative news sources for civic-minded CHAPTER 16

301

Belarusians, whether on social media, YouTube, bloggers, other online platforms and investigative reporting, or through the Foundation and in cooperation with the National Democratic Institute. A Vilnius-based Justice Hub, initiated by local NGOs and academic institutions, will work in synergy with the International Accountability Platform for Belarus created by the UK, Denmark, and Germany. The Platform is collecting documentation and verifying evidence of serious human rights violations in Belarus, which is necessary for bringing perpetrators to justice, whereas the Hub is laying the groundwork for eventual prosecution of crimes against humanity with the active involvement of Belarusian experts. It would be foolish and irresponsible to write-off an erratic Lukashenko and to dismiss the millions of ordinary Belarusians calling for change. The situation in Belarus, which includes mass arrests and imprisonments, forcible shutdowns of independent media outlets and NGOs, the forced landing of a civilian airliner carrying opposition blogger Roman Protasevich, and the migration crisis on the Lithuanian border as well as other neighbouring EU countries (an influx of migrants from Iraq and elsewhere is being abetted by Lukashenko as a form of revenge for EU sanctions), continues to pose a major challenge for Europe. The one thing that seems certain is further turbulence. As the battle for Belarus unfolds, much will depend on the roles of the democratic world, particularly the EU and the US. Russia and the Belarusian security services may yet grow tired of their role as regime enforcers. MOVING FORWARD Looking ahead, the EaP is one of the ways to achieve our geopolitical aim of a stable, well-governed, prosperous neighbourhood with respect for the rule of law. This serves the interests of Lithuania, Denmark, and other EU member states. But the Eastern Partnership is continuously at risk of slipping off the priority list as so many other issues and crises on the global scene, such as the coronavirus pandemic and now Afghanistan, crowd the EU agenda. Nevertheless, there are steps that could be taken by Lithuania and Denmark in the run-up to the 2021 EaP summit: 302

1. The future in Belarus poses urgent and acutely unpredictable questions for the entire region. We need to work consistently and cooperate on long-term goals which harness EU core values as our main geopolitical tool. Europe has done remarkable things with soft power. Europe must continue to strengthen its credibility as a key player by defending values not only within but outside the EU. Despite the decision by the Lukashenko regime to suspend Belarus participation in the Eastern Partnership, Lithuania and Denmark should ensure that the EU remains focused on working with the Belarusian people, strengthening bonds, and fostering regional cooperation, even in light of Belarus’ regrettable decision to further isolate itself. 2. While great value lies in EaP bilateral approaches, the multilateral framework should be used to promote specific priorities. In the case of support for Ukraine’s territorial integrity, Lithuania and Denmark have acted as catalysts for the introduction and prolongation of EU economic sanctions against Russia for its military aggression, as well as personal sanctions and other measures against human rights violators and corrupt businessmen working for the Kremlin. The effect of these joint measures has been quite substantial with regard to weakening the Russian economy and stopping further military aggression. 3. Multilateral engagement with EaP countries can further facilitate cooperation and mutually beneficial progress in such areas as the rule of law, good governance, energy security, and the green transition. 4. The goals of the Eastern Partnership have not been fully realized against a backdrop of domestic challenges in EU member states, growing Russian assertiveness, and third-power influence in the new geopolitical and geo-economic environment. The EU is at times slow to respond and interact with EaP countries. In the run-up to the EU Presidency, which Denmark will assume during the 2nd half of 2025, and Lithuania in the 1st half of 2027, our countries can cooperate more closely on creating visionary approaches towards the EU’s eastern neighbourhood, approaches which reflect current realities. Lithuania is particularly interested in a more ambitious European perspective for CHAPTER 16

303

EaP countries demonstrating strong commitment to EU core values and the implementation of democratic reforms. The EU needs to show stronger resolve for a more united Europe. The eastern neighbourhood is at the crossroads of a new geopolitical configuration that the EU did not envision when it launched the EaP. As authoritarians around the world perfect the art of seeming more powerful than they are, the democratic world must perfect its commitment – in real time – to the values and freedoms it holds dear. In the EU, we need political will to accept others committed to doing the same.

304

CHAPTER 17

CELEBRATING DIPLOMATIC RELATIONS AND A SHARED VISION By Ambassador Hans Brask The many activities that mark the centenary of the Danish-Lithuanian relationship have important symbolic character, but it is also an occasion to present a vision for the future cooperation. A joint political declaration was adopted during the anniversary conference held in Copenhagen 4 June 2021.

“Today is an important day. For Denmark. For Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania. And for me personally,” Jeppe Kofod, Minister for Foreign Affairs, said in his opening remarks to his Baltic colleagues EvaMaria Liimets (Estonia), Edgars Rinkēvičs (Latvia), and Gabrielius Landsbergis (Lithuania) at an anniversary conference* on 4 June 2021 in Copenhagen. “30 years ago, Denmark played a special role in the Baltic countries’ fight for freedom and independence,” the Minister continued. “The Danish policy was based on broad public support. The Danish people felt great sympathy with the people of Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania in their struggle for freedom. The Soviet occupation reminded us of our own occupation decades earlier. I, myself, felt the same sympathy growing up on the island of Bornholm—in the middle of the Baltic

The anniversary conference “Together in the Past, Present and Future—100 years of Diplomatic Relations between Denmark and Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania” was organized by the Danish Foreign Policy Society in cooperation with the Danish Cultural Institute and the three Danish Embassies in Riga, Tallinn and Vilnius. The conference was livestreamed to the public due to the COVID-19 pandemic.

CHAPTER 17

305

Sea—from where I could follow the events unfold. The Baltic countries’ fight for freedom shaped me. [. . .] Only a few hundred kilometres away, there were young people like me for whom freedom was not a given. For the first time, I felt a clear responsibility of fighting for a more just world. This sense of responsibility laid the foundation for my political interest and my future political career. And it continues to be the foundation for my actions as Foreign Minister.” At the same occasion, the Foreign Minister announced that “we are celebrating a new shared vision for our future cooperation, which my three Baltic colleagues and I have agreed on today.” The shared vision— in its entirety below—is based on three cornerstones: 1) protection of our common values, 2) security and defence, and 3) the climate and the green transformation of our societies. Shared values

Regarding shared European values, the countries agreed to work together in supporting “the countries in our Eastern neighbourhood in their struggle for freedom, democracy, and human rights. Our recent cooperation and common efforts regarding the situation in Belarus and Ukraine are important examples. Europe, as a whole, will not be free and at peace as long as our Eastern partners’ sovereignty and their fundamental rights and choices are being undermined and international law is violated. We will safeguard democratic principles and human rights globally and regionally, including through relevant multilateral fora such as the UN. As we honour the 100th anniversary of the birth of Andrei Sakharov and look forward to a restart of the Sakharov hearings on human rights, we maintain our strong political support for freedom, and we will continue to work together to support civil society, the free and pluralistic media and human rights organisations in our neighbourhood.” Security and defence

Concerning security and defence, “we share the common goal of preserving the security and stability in the Baltic Sea Region and the entire Euro-Atlantic area together with Allies and partners. Our common 306

efforts in NATO and through NATO’s enhanced Forward Presence, the Baltic Air Policing mission, the Multinational Division North and NATO Force Integration Unit demonstrate our resolve and solidarity in support of each other as close Allies. We will develop and strengthen our cooperation on security, deterrence and defence, including on countering hybrid threats. We will continue to promote the security of our region through NATO and through stronger NATO-EU cooperation. We will also continue to contribute to international security through active participation in international operations and missions, in which we often work closely together, such as our shared efforts in NATO Mission Iraq, currently led by Denmark, where Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania contribute to the Danish force protection unit.” The climate and green transformation

On the climate challenge, we “agree to take ambitious steps to reach the goals of the Paris Agreement. We will work closely together to promote a just green transition of our societies by sharing our experiences, solutions and know-how. In particular, our cooperation to advance onshore and offshore wind energy in the Baltic Sea is of key importance, also as a means of addressing energy security. Internationally, we will engage in strong climate and energy diplomacy to promote a just global green transition, phase out coal and to push the world’s biggest economies to make sustainable changes and advocate for adherence to the highest international standards of nuclear safety and environmental protection in third countries. We will improve the sustainable development of farming, food and rural areas and bolster environmental care. At the same time, we will serve as an example, showing that an ambitious green transition is achievable, while simultaneously creating jobs and economic growth.” Naturally, Foreign Minister Jeppe Kofod did not present an exhaustive list of cooperation areas. New subject will come, driven by bilateral opportunities, the international agenda, and events such as the COVID-19 pandemic. Most recently, we have seen new aspects of hybrid threats. Lithuania’s neighbour Belarus employed new hybrid measures this summer by manipulating and facilitating migrant routes to Europe. The CHAPTER 17

307

Lukashenko regime has been helping thousands of illegal migrants to cross the border to Lithuania, causing a new migrant crisis and humanitarian concern. The EU and partner countries, including Denmark, have provided support to Lithuania in overcoming this challenge that also involves Latvia and Poland. Cooperation in the field of culture will also continue to be a focus area. “We encourage our citizens to participate in the many cultural activities in Kaunas as the city becomes [the] European Capital of Culture in 2022,” the statement states. As mentioned in earlier chapters, the Danish Cultural Institute and the Danish Embassy will take active part in the “Kaunas 2022” events next year, all under the Culture Capital’s official heading, “a journey from temporary to contemporary,” alluding to Kaunas being Lithuania’s temporary capital between the two world wars. The cultural sector has often played an important role as a facilitating precursor for later political discussion, both in 1921 and in 1991. Coming to terms with national traumas and the brutal past, of which Lithuania faced plenty during the 20th century, is something that the cultural sector is often better suited to address with trustful partners than any other sector. An implicit message that the shared vision conveys is that future challenges will be addressed based on equal partnerships. Lithuania and her Baltic sisters have developed such economic, democratic, and societal strengths that we are now able to help others jointly, e.g., the Eastern Partnership countries, on equal terms. But this is not entirely new: military cooperation has been bilateral for a long time, proving to be a win-win situation. ROYAL VISITS Over the years, the Danish Royal family has built very close and strong links to the Baltic States, including Lithuania. HRH Crown Prince Frederik stated, in connection with the anniversary conference in Copenhagen, that the “Baltic States are very close to my heart,” explaining how the Baltic struggle in the 1990s “shaped his perceptions.” The Crown Prince also referred to HM Queen Margrethe’s state visit to each of the Baltic States in 1992 as defining experiences. The evening 308

Her Majesty the Queen, Margrethe II, and her husband, Prince Henrik, visiting Antakalnis Cemetery in Vilnius on their first state visit to Lithuania on 31 July 1992.1

before the anniversary conference, the Crown Prince Couple were hosts for a dinner at Amalienborg Castle where the Baltic foreign ministers and speakers at the conference were invited. In this tradition, the Royal Family has accepted the invitation of President Gitanas Nausėda to visit Lithuania. HRH Crown Princess Mary will visit the country in September 2021, accompanied by Minister for Foreign Affairs Jeppe Kofod. The visit is one of the first abroad after the pandemic has eased its grip on international travel. 1 Besides meeting with the President and First Lady Diana Nausėdienė, the Crown Princess will pay her respects at the Antakalnis Cemetery, where Lithuanian national heroes are buried, including the 13 people who died during demonstrations when the Soviet troops tried to crush the independence movement. HM Queen Margarethe also visited the cemetery 29 years ago when she came to Lithuania as the first head of state after regaining independence. Several cultural manifestations will be part of Princess Mary’s visit, including the finest example of Danish art, Golden Age paintings, that will be exhibited (under the title “Awakening of Nations”) in the Vytautas Kasiulis Museum of Art in Vilnius. In addition, the two-day programme will include a concert, an anniversary conference, and an example of new Nordic cuisine and the principle of sustainability and circular economy. HISTORICAL DATES The two dates that established the formal state-to-state links between Denmark and Lithuania are 28 September 1921 and 24 August 1991. To Lithuania, 28 February 1991 is perhaps an even more important CHAPTER 17

309

date since this day symbolises that Denmark, after Iceland, was the first to recognise Lithuania’s independence. On this day, Denmark and Lithuania signed a “Joint Protocol on Cooperation.” On 10 March 2021, Speaker of the Seimas Viktorija Čmilytė-Nielsen published a “Resolution on Gratitude to the Kingdom of Denmark,” expressing the Seimas’ gratitude for the principled step taken thirty years ago, which “was very important for Lithuania in consolidating its independence in the international community.” The resolution recalls the joint protocols that were signed by Foreign Ministers Uffe EllemannJensen and Algirdas Saudargas on 28 February 1991, which showed that “already then Denmark supported the aspirations of [Lithuania] to establish itself.” Furthermore, it states that Denmark is today an important partner. “Bilateral dialogue is meaningfully complemented by close people-to-people contacts and meaningful initiatives in the fields of culture, education, science, business and innovation.” The resolution was adopted after a debate in the Seimas that would have left every Dane present humble and proud. Also, Foreign Minister Gabrielius Landsbergis sent a special letter to his Danish colleague, drawing attention to the 30-year anniversary of the signing of the protocols. As illustrated throughout this book, Denmark enjoys extraordinarily good relations with Lithuania. The same applies to the two other Baltic States. The Baltic States are, however, very different, and each country should be addressed individually. This may seem very trivial, but many Danes often see the Baltic States through the same lens. We hope that this book has added to some of Lithuania’s characteristics when it to comes to our bilateral links. Denmark shares the same vision for the future with all three Baltic countries, and we all have much in common, but it often demands bilateral follow-up to turn visions into concrete achievements, taking into account the history, sensitivities, and re-condition of each country. Therefore, anniversaries like the one being marked with this book are good occasions to reflect and assess how to reach new achievements.

310

Dinner at the Mansion of Frederik VIII, Amalienborg, on the occasion of the Crown Prince Couple hosting a dinner marking the 100th anniversary of diplomatic relations between Denmark and Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania, June 2021. Photo: Keld Navntoft, The Danish Royal Court

CHAPTER 17

311

DENMARK Capital: Copenhagen (about 1.3 million citizens) Area: 42,933 km2 Population: Approx. 5.8 million GDP: 300 billion EUR (2021) Currency: Danish krone Unemployment: 4,5 % (Q2 2021)

LITHUANIA Capital: Vilnius (about 570,000 citizens) Area: 65,300 km2 Population: Approx. 2.8 million GDP: 47 billion EUR (2020) Currency: Euro Unemployment: 7.4 % (Q2 2021)

CHAPTER 17

315

THE HISTORICAL TIMELINE 1253

The Founder of Lithuania Mindaugas was crowned

1849

Adoption of the Danish Constitution

1918

Adoption of the Act of Independence of Lithuania

28 September 1921

Denmark recognises Lithuania as an independent state

1922

Election of the first Seimas of Lithuania

1940 1910

1920

1950

1930

1960 1940

Nazi German occupation of Denmark

1940

Soviet occupation of Lithuania

1941

Nazi German occupation of Lithuania

1944

Soviet re-occupation of Lithuania

1945

Liberation of Denmark

1949

Denmark becomes member of NATO 316

2015

Lithuania joins the eurozone

2004

Lithuania joins the European Union and NATO

1973

Denmark joins the European Union

1990 1970

1980

2000 1989

The Baltic Way from Vilnius to Tallinn

1990

Restoration of independence in Lithuania

2010

2020

11-13 January 1991 January events in Lithuania

28 February 1991

Denmark recognises Lithuania’s restored independence

24 August 1991

Re-establishment of diplomatic relations between Lithuania and Denmark

CHAPTER 17

317

LIST OF CONTRIBUTORS, INCL. SHORT RESUMES

Hans Brask 2019 – 2015 – 2019 2007 – 2014 2005 – 2007

Ambassador to Lithuania, Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Denmark Ambassador to Latvia, Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Denmark Director, Baltic Development Forum Deputy Head of Department, Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Denmark

Niels Bo Poulsen 2008 –

Director, Institute for Strategy and War Studies, Royal Danish Defence College 2004 – 2008 Assistant Professor, Danish International Study Programme 1998 – 2001 First Secretary Royal Danish Embassy in Vilnius, Lithuania

Ieva Steponavičiūtė 2018 – 2006 –

Head of Centre, Centre for Scandinavian Studies, Vilnius University Associate Professor, Centre for Scandinavian Studies, Vilnius University

Mikkel Kirkebæk 2018 – 2019 Researcher, Institute for Strategy and War Studies, Royal Danish Defence College 2011 PhD in History, Roskilde University 2003 MA in History and Geography, Roskilde University

Kirsten Biering 2018 – Associated Senior Advisor, Danish Institute for International Studies 2001 – 2018 Ambassador to Haag, Netherlands, Stockholm, Sweden, Paris, France, and Danish OSCE Delegation, Vienna, Austria, Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Denmark 1995 – 2001 Head of Department, Foreign Affairs

318

1991 – 1995 Ambassador to Latvia, Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Denmark 1985 – 1988 1st Secretary at the NATO-Representation, Brussels

Vaidotas Mažeika 2015 – 1999 1991

Deputy Director of the State Security Department of the Republic of Lithuania Doctorate from Vytautas Magnus University and the Lithuanian Institute of History Graduated from Vilnius Pedagogical University with a degree in history and pedagogy

Dalius Čekuolis 2007 2006 – 2012 1994 – 1998 1992 – 1995

President of the United Nations Economic and Social Council Head of Lithuanian Permanent Mission to the UN Ambassador to Belgium, the Netherlands, and Luxemburg Ambassador to Denmark, Norway, and Iceland

Uffe Ellemann-Jensen 1998 – 1994 – 2000 1992 1984 – 1998 1982 – 1993 1977 – 2001

Founder and Chairman of the Baltic Development Forum President for the European Liberal Party, ELDR Initiator of the Council of the Baltic Sea States and EuroFaculty Leader of the Danish Party Venstre Minister of Foreign Affairs of Denmark Member of the Danish Parliament

Niels H. Johansen 2018 – Defence Attaché to the Baltic States, Ministry of Defence of Denmark 2015 – 2018 Branch Head Fire Support and Air Coordination, Multinational Corps Northeast 2011 – 2015 Staff Officer and Coordinator, NATO Allied Command Transformation, Staff Element Europe 1981 – 2007 Private, Sergeant, and Officer, the Ministry of Defence of Denmark

Jakob Greve Kromann 2020 – Deputy Head of Mission, the Embassy of Denmark in Vilnius 2019 – 2020 Editor in Chief, RÆSON media 2017 Intern in the Political Department, the Embassy of Denmark in Riga

319

Linas Linkevičius 2012 – 2020 Minister of Foreign Affairs of the Republic of Lithuania 2011 – 2012 Ambassador-at-Large, Transatlantic Cooperation and Security Policy Department, Ministry of Foreign Affairs of the Republic of Lithuania 2000 – 2004 Minister of National Defence of the Republic of Lithuania 1997 – 2000 Ambassador, Head of the Lithuanian Mission to both the WEU and NATO 1993 – 1996 Minister of National Defence of the Republic of Lithuania

Steen Bornholdt Andersen

Senior Researcher, Institute for Strategy and War Studies at the Royal Danish Defence College 1997 – 2000 Danish Defence Attaché to Lithuania Prior to that he served 41 years in the Danish Army

Kristian Fischer 2016 – Director, Danish Institute for International Studies 2001 – 2016 Deputy Permanent Secretary of State for Defence / Political Director, the Ministry of Defence of Denmark 1998 – 2001 Minister Counsellor and Defence Advisor, Danish NATO Mission Brussels

Peter Michael Nielsen 2021 –

Strategic Advisor at the Ministry of Defence of Denmark, Acquisition and Logistics Organisation 2019 – 2021 Assistant Permanent Secretary of Defence for Policy, the Ministry of Defence of Denmark 2001 – 2006 Defence Counsellor, Danish Permanent Representations to NATO and EU 1996 – 2001 Head of Department for Nordic, Central, and Eastern European Cooperation, the Ministry of Defence of Denmark

Neringa Mataitytė 2020 –

PhD Student and Lecturer, Institute of International Relations and Political Science at Vilnius University 2020 Master’s in International Relations and Diplomacy, Vilnius University 2018 – 2020 Project Manager, Think Tank “Diversity Development Group”

320

Erik Albæk 2005 –

Professor in Journalism and Political Science, University of Southern Denmark 2000 – 2001 EuroFaculty Professor in Public Administration, Vilnius University 1999 – 2005 Professor in Public Administration, Aalborg University

Simon Drewsen-Holmberg 2020 – 2005 –

Director, Danish Cultural Institute, Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania Director, Danish Cultural Institute, Latvia

Trine Villumsen Berling 2020 – Senior Researcher, Danish Institute for International Studies 2018 – 2019 Associate Professor and Team Leader NordSTEVA, Department of Political Science, University of Copenhagen 2013 – 2016 Visiting Scholar, NATO Defence College, Rome

Gintė Bernadeta Damušis 2016 – 2021

Ambassador to Denmark and Iceland, Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Lithuania 2012 – 2015 Director, Department of Lithuanians Living Abroad, Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Lithuania 2001 – 2005 Ambassador to NATO, Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Lithuania 1996 – 1998 Head of Delegation, Permanent Delegation of Lithuania to OSCE and other International Organisations in Vienna, Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Lithuania

Maria Oien 2020 – Freelance Journalist, Lithuania and the Eastern European countries 2019 – 2020 Journalist, the Danish business media Watch Media 2019 Communications Assistant, Høg Communications

321

NOTES CHAPTER 1 1

Guðni Th. Jóhannesson 2016

Moltesen 1934, 147-148

Meyer/Meyer Benedictsen 1891, 1918, 1925 and 1927

Christensen 1936

Meyer Benedictsen & Jensen, 1935, 14

Meyer Benedictsen 1924, 17

Schütte 1935

Meyer Benedictsen 1924, 85

Ørveille 1997, 260

Meyer 1895, 8

ibid., 233, 206, 244

ibid., 226

ibid., 160-165

Meyer 1895, 218

Meyer Benedictsen 1924, 189

ibid., 245

Benedictsen 1899

Meyer Benedictsen 1924, 210; 233

ibid., 227

1934, 159

Baycroft & Hopkin 2012, 2; Hroch 1985

Meyer Benedictsen 1924, 248

Randers Dagblad, 5 November 1902

322

Aalborg Amstidende, 5 August 1896 and other papers where the same review was published

Aarhus Amtstidende, 1 November 1895

26 ibid. 27

Savickis 1934, 157

Grigaravičiūtė 2007

Savickis 1998, 26, 56

Berlingske Tidende 10 August 1917

Savickis 1919, 7

Savickis 1998, 85

Savickis 1998, 61; 43

1999, 158

See, for example, Lietuva, 30 April 1924

Lietuva 26 August 1923, 1

Tulevičius et al., 2000

Lietuvos Aidas 16 October 2006

2002, 291

Meyer Benedictsen 1924, 14

Meyer Benedictsen 1924, 242

Mažeika, 2002, 299

Meyer 1895, 259

2007, 12

Clark, 2006, 162

1934, 148

CHAPTER 2 1

Viborg Stifts Folkeblad 6 October 1919: ”Litauen ‑ Aarhundreders Frihedskamp”, front page. Also printed in Fyns Venstreblad 14 September 1919: ”Det genfødte Litauen”, front page 323

For more on the Danish Baltic policy 1918‑1920, see Kirkebæk, Mikkel: Den yderste grænse – danske frivillige i de baltiske uafhængighedskrige 1918‑1920. Lindhardt og Ringhof. Copenhagen 2019.

RA. UM. Grouped cases 1909‑45, pk. 147‑175, letter from UM to the Danish envoy to Berlin, dated 4 November 1918

For more on the Swedish and Norwegian views on the matter, see Kuldkepp, Mart: Swedish political attitudes towards Baltic independence in the short twentieth century. Ajalooline Ajakiri, 3:4. 2016, p. 401; Kristiansen, Tom: Det fjerne og farlige Baltikum. Norge og det baltiske spørgsmål 1918‑1940. IFS Info – Institutt for forsvarsstudier. No. 4. 1992, p. 8, 25; Kangeris, Kärlis: Die schwedische Baltikumpolitik 1918–1925. Ein Überblick. Printed in: Hiden, John and Loit, Aleksander: The Baltic in international relations between the two world wars. Centre for Baltic Studies University of Stockholm 1988, p. 191; Westerlund, Lars: Hur kom det ”nordiska” til uttryck? Printed in: Westerlund, Lars: Norden och krigen i Finland och Balticum 1918–1919. Statsrådets Kanslis Publikationsserie 2004, p. 198‑201

NA. FO 371/3344 Letter from Mr. Ovey (Christiania) to Foreign Office, dated 4 November 1918; Hovi 1980, p. 70

Rauch 1974, p. 40 ff.; Kiaupa 2002, p. 324‑25; Hovi 1980, p. 65; Senn 1966, p. 10; Eidintas and Zalys 1997, p. 33

For more on France’s Baltic policy, see Bergmane, Una and Clerc, Louis: Beyond ’caution and pragmatism and cynicism’? France’s relations with the Eastern Baltic in times of crisis (1918‑1922; 1988‑1992). Ajalooline Ajakiri, 3:4. 2016., p. 369, 375, 378.; Hovi 1980, p. 47; Made, Vahur: The Baltic states and Europe 1918‑1940. In: Hiden, John and Made, Vahur and Smith, David J.: The Baltic Question during the Cold War. Routledge 2008, p. 13‑15

NA. FO. 371‑3344. Letter from the French embassy in London to Foreign Office, dated 5 November 1918. For more on the differences between British and French Baltic policy, see Sundbäck, Esa: Finland in British Baltic Policy. British political and economic interests regarding Finland in the Aftermath of the First World War 1918‑1925. Academia Scientiarum Fennica 2001, p. 59 ff.; Kalervo, Hovi: Die

324

französische Baltikumpolitik in den Jahren 1918–1921. In: Hiden, John and Loit, Aleksander: The Baltic in international relations between the two world wars. Centre for Baltic Studies University of Stockholm 1988, p. 139 10

Hovi 1980, p. 50, 52, 133

Tarulis, Albert N.: American‑Baltic relations 1918‑1922. The Catholic University of America Press 1965, p. 119

Eidintas og Zalys 1997, p. 34

Berlingske Politiske og Avertissementstidende 1 January 1919: ”Repræsentant for Lithauen. Samtale med Professor A. Voldemar”, p. 9.

Rauch 1974, p. 51‑52

For more on the Danish volunteers in the Baltic independence wars, see Kirkebæk, Mikkel: Den yderste grænse – danske frivillige i de baltiske uafhængighedskrige 1918‑1920. Lindhardt og Ringhof. Copenhagen 2019.

RA. Private archive. Aage Westenholz, pk. 26. Letter from Runeberg to Westenholz, dated 18 January 1919

RA. Private archive. Aage Westenholz, pk. 69. Letter from Westenholz to Neergaard, dated 19 January 1919

Kiaupa 2002, p. 325 ff.; Hovi 1980, p. 94, 99; Senn 1966, p. 16 ff.; Eidintas og Zalys 1997, p. 34 ff.

Kiaupa 2002, p. 327; Senn 1966, p. 11; Eidintas and Zalys 1997, p. 35

Dagbladet 6 February 1919: ”Skandinavien og de nye Østersø‑Stater”, p. 7.

Mazeika 2020, p. 316

Berlingske Politiske og Avertissementstidende 9 March 1919: ”Den genopstandne Stat Litauen”, p. 7. 325

Berlingske Politiske og Avertissementstidende 9 March 1919: ”Den genopstandne Stat Litauen”, p. 7.

Berlingske Politiske og Avertissementstidende 8 March 1919, p. 9.

Kiaupa 2002, p. 328; Senn 1966, p. 17

RA. Private archive. Aage Westenholz, pk. 46. Letter from Westenholz to Gudme, dated 24 April 1919. See also pk. 95. Letter from Gudme to Westenholz, dated 16 April 1919. A copy exists in the private archive of Iver Gudme.

Eidintas and Zalys 1997, p. 36; Clemmesen, Michael Hesselholt: Vilnakomandoet 1920‑21. Danmarks første kontingent til en international fredsbevarende styrke. Forsvarsakademiet 2007, p. 21; Senn 1966, p. 18

Eidintas og Zalys 1997, p. 64

Dagbladet 22 October 1919: ”De baltiske Staters Frygt for de russiske Generalers Planer”, front page.

Rauch 1974, p. 62

Senn 1966, p. 20; Eidintas og Zalys 1997, p. 72

Senn 1966, p. 31, 33

Senn 1966, p. 45; Eidintas og Zalys 1997, p. 73‑75

Kiaupa 2002, p. 336; Senn 1966, p. 34, 47 ff.

Rauch 1974, p. 100 ff.; Senn 1966, p. 54 ff.

Clemmesen 2007, p. 34