[Last updated: 17 February 1992]
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THE BALTIC STATES WIN THEIR INDEPENDENCE: LITHUANIA'S DIFFICULT RENAISSANCE

by Dr Robert F. Miller

Sr Fellow in Political Science, Division of Economics and Politics, RSSS, ANU

Introduction

The original purpose of this essay was to commemorate the 50th anniversary of
the mass deportations of Baltic citizens by the Soviet Union at a ceremony in
June 1991 in the Lithuanian Club in Canberra. At the time, I expressed my
optimism over the eventual success of the three states' struggle for
independence, but like most other observers, I had not expected progress to this
goal to be so swift and so decisive. Indeed, 1991 began on a decidedly sombre
note. I wrote at the time: 

'This year, despite the recent alarming events in Vilnius and continuing
harassment of government agencies by Moscow in all three Baltic states1, I think
the prospects for further progress towards independence of all three Baltic
states may somehow be better now than at any time since the resumption of Soviet
occupation in 1945. I say this at least partly on the basis of a recent visit to
Moscow and Leningrad with a group of ANU academics in April and May of this year
and partly on the basis of information from published sources available in the
West. My remarks are influenced by conversations during my visit with a number
of persons involved in foreign policy, as well as with ordinary people from
various walks of life. I cannot claim that the sample of opinions I collected
was in any way typical. Nevertheless, I think it is possible to make a few
general observations and tentative conclusions.'

The abortive putsch of 19-21 August, of course, changed the parameters of the
entire situation and brought about just what the coup leaders had sought to
avertÑthe disintegration of the Soviet Union. The governments of Lithuania,
Latvia and Estonia seized the opportunity to implement their earlier
declarations of independence and separate themselves from the chaos and calamity
that engulfed the rest of the country. Yeltsin's victory, not only over the
putschists, but also over Gorbachev, ensured that this bold move succeeded
without further bloodshed, at least as far as the Baltic states were concerned.

All of this is well known today, but in June there were still serious doubts
over the timing and precise form in which the movement toward independence would
occur. In the following pages I shall recount, first, how the situation looked
then, and secondly, how the course of events has diverged from this original
perspective.

The political atmosphere on the eve of the putsch

Despite Gorbachev's having greatly strengthened his formal political power and
asserted the right to issue decrees on everything from military operations to
the price of fish (when it is available), it was probably fair to say that he
had less real power to affect the course of events in the USSR in the first half
of 1991 than at any other time since his accession to power in March 1985.
People in authority in the republics and provinces simply were not listening to
him, and few members of the general public seemed to have much respect for him.
Public opinion surveys published in some of the non- official pressÑand the
variety of print-news sources readily available in the main cities is now
probably richer than one finds in AustraliaÑshowed that only about 20% of the
population had a positive evaluation of Gorbachev and his policies. The only
person who seemed to have a good word for his choice as Prime Minister, Valentin
PavlovÑone of the 'gang of eight' which led the putschÑwas Evgenii Primakov,
whose invidious role in Soviet efforts to slap together their own solution to
the Persian Gulf crisis suggested that he was anything but a liberal factor in
Kremlin politics. To call Pavlov a 'progressive', as Primakov did in Washington,
was to rob the word of all its meaning. The apparent retention of Primakov by
Yeltsin as head of foreign intelligence operations for Russia (and putatively
for the new Commonwealth of Independent States) is difficult to understand and
will probably be regarded by the Baltic states as a cause for concern.	

But then again, it is not at all clear that Gorbachev was that much of a
'progressive' either. He was adept at speaking out of both sides of his mouth at
the same time, leaving enough doubt as to his real intentions in the minds of
his interlocutors, particularly those in the USA, Germany and France, to allow
them to find excuses for continuing to support and appease him. His tough
statements in Oslo during his address of acceptance of the Nobel Prize for
Peace, and Pavlov's subsequent hardline attitude toward Western conditions for
aid to the USSR were clear illustrations of this double-dealing. 

The leaders of the Baltic states had ample experience of this practice. Their
tactic was to give Gorbachev leeway to distance himself from the coercive
actions of local Soviet political, police and military officials, while
realising full well that he at least tacitly supported such actions. The fact
was that no-one knew just where Gorbachev stood politically at any given moment;
eventually he even confused himself with this dazzling political 'flexibility'.
Thus, despite his reported shift in April 1991 back to a more liberal group of
advisers (after having demonstratively swung to the conservative side in
November and December 1990Ñthe events in Vilnius and Riga in January 1991 were a
powerful symbol of this swing), his acceptance of Yeltsin and the '9+1' formula
for a new 'Union Treaty' on 23 April 1991 and his sudden renewal of interest in
radical economic reformsÑdespite all of these tokens of renewed liberalism,
Gorbachev clearly continued to find it expedient to court the support of
conservative forces right up to the time of the putsch.

It is patently clear that major Soviet institutions, such as the army, the KGB,
the Ministry of the Interior, and the central party apparatus, rarely, if ever,
acted independently or on their own authority. Given the nature of the system,
it was most likely that any action that they tookÑfor example, the aggressive
actions of unidentified Soviet forces against Lithuanian border posts before the
putschÑwere first cleared with, if not directly ordered by, Gorbachev or his
chief lieutenants. Former Prime Minister Mrs Kazimiera Prunskiene's willingness
always to give Gorbachev the benefit of the doubtÑ even after it had become
crystal clear that he had no intention of living up to his vague commitments
eventually to grant the Baltic states their freedomÑadded her name to the list
of victims of the Gorbachevian reformist myth. Her case, like those of Edward
Shevardnadze and Aleksandr YakovlevÑ but also, by contrast, that of Academician
Andrei SakharovÑdemonstrated that it took communists longer to recognise the
truth than non-communists.

Boris Yeltsin is a good example of this moral-political influence of communist
party membership. Having quit the communist party in 1990, and having managed to
acquire a good deal of popular support and formal authority as Chairman of the
RSFSR Supreme Soviet, Yeltsin was able to resist Gorbachev with impunity. More
accurately, Yeltsin was able to ignore many of Gorbachev's initiatives and
policies, even if before the August putsch he did not have the resources and
institutional backing to implement positive policies of his own. A similar
situation has obtained in Kazakhstan, where the head of the party and republican
President, Nursultan Nazarbaev, showed himself to be one of the most forthright
and talented political figures on the current scene in the country. Like
Yeltsin, Nazarbaev evidently preferred the maintenance of the Union, but only
under certain conditions: namely, that it be a voluntary, and rather loose
confederation of sovereign states. Nazarbaev's remaining faithful to the
communist party to the very end was reflected in his relatively favourable
attitude toward maintaining a substantial political and economic linkage to
Moscow long after it had become politically necessary for him to do so. Perhaps
this was because of his ambitions vis-a-vis the other Central Asian republics
and his recognition that they were unprepared to strike out on their own
economically, diplomatically and militarily. His colleague, the equally
impressive leader of Kyrgyzia, Askar Akaev, held essentially the same position.
The two of them were noticeably ambivalent about full and immediate
independence, presumably because of similar problems in their respective
republics: namely, a relatively large Russian or Russian-speaking element in
their population, a high level of economic dependence on Russia, and a fear of
the upsurge of Islamic fundamentalism at home and in the neighbouring Central
Asian republics.2 Except for the Islamic issue, these considerations were at an
earlier stage obviously of relevance to Lithuania and the other Baltic states as
well, especially in the eyes of moderates within the independence movement, who
thought it necessary to delay the push toward independence because of precisely
such problems.

Whatever the validity of these asessments, it is clear that Lithuanian President
Vytautas Landsbergis, the most consistently pro-independence non-communist
leader among Soviet republican politicians, turned out to be right in pursuing
an uncompromising line for immediate separation against Gorbachev and the
gradualists. The Lithuanian Declaration of Independence of 11 March 1990
certainly brought matters to a head, even if it seemed quixotic at the time.
There can be little doubt, also, that the sacrifices in human life that were the
unfortunate result of his persistence in acting upon the Declaration which paved
the way for speedy international recognition of the independence of the Baltic
states and set the stage for the subsequent collapse of the Soviet empire.

Thus, while Gorbachev dithered on such matters as the transformation of the
economy to a free-market basis, bona fide negotiations with those parts of the
country were demanding full independence (such as the Baltic states, Moldova,
Armenia and Georgia), and the establishment of more equitable economic
arrangements among the republics, the leaders of Russia, Kazakhstan, and, to a
lesser extent, the Ukraine, pursued their own policies on these issues. They
were able to do so because of Gorbachev's habit of delaying the taking of hard
decisions until well after they could have any positive effect. A good example
was his rejection in 1988 of proposals by Estonia and, subsequently Latvia and
Lithuania, to establish a new basis for economic relations between Moscow and
the republics, granting them a greater degree of economic autonomy. Two years
later the Baltic states were no longer willing to settle for only economic
autonomy and were seeking full independence. Meanwhile, the leaders of the other
republics, most notably Yeltsin and Nazarbaev, had recognised that Gorbachev's
centralist economic policies were a failure and took steps to introduce amongst
themselves, without Gorbachev's assent, just the sort of autonomous economic
relations that the Baltics states had been requesting. By late April of 1991
Gorbachev had been forced to accede to their demands for these kinds of
relations and to concede much more as well. Better late than never. But by
resisting such changes for so long, Gorbachev had undermined his authority as
the leader of perestroika. More seriously, by yielding only under extreme
pressure and in the face of economic and political collapse, he made himself
appear a mere opportunist, who could not be trusted to keep his commitments if
circumstances offered more favourable conditions for the maintenance of his
personal power and prerogative. More than anything else, it was this penchant
for tactical manoeuvring that led to the putsch and his subsequent extrusion
from the political system. 

The special case of the Baltic states

The brutal military crackdown in Lithuania and Latvia in January of 1991 was,
despite Gorbachev's disclaimer of personal responsibility, clearly a matter of
his tacit endorsement, if not initiative. The investigation of the events by the
group of defence experts from the liberal military organisation 'Shchit', or
'Shield', characterised political developments in Lithuania up to that timeÑthe
election of a new Supreme Soviet under Vytautas LandsbergisÑas the result of
'free, democratic elections'.3 They accused the Soviet authorities of taking
advantage of general economic discontent among the population, largely caused by
Moscow's policies and the split in the Communist Party of Lithuania, to try to
overthrow the constitutionally elected government by the use of regular forces
of the army, the KGB and the Ministry of the Interior in support of the
break-away fraction of the CPL. Without actually accusing Gorbachev of ordering
the entire operation, the investigators noted that: 'After the operation was
carried out, by an Edict of the President of the USSR on 4 February 1991, the
Minister of Internal Affairs Pugo was awarded the military rank of
Colonel-General, and by a decree of the commander-in- chief of the ground
forces, Varennikov, the personnel of the 107th motorised rifle division were
given thanks for their "bold and decisive action". Their actions were held up as
an example to the personnel of the ground forces.'4 These conclusions were
backed up by a careful rehearsal of the details of the operation and a verbatim
transcription of radio messages exchanged by commanders of the troops involved,
the full text of which was said to be in the hands of the General Procurator of
the Lithuanian Republic. Thus, not only did this evidence totally contradict the
findings of the subsequent investigation by USSR Procurator Nikolai Trubin, but
the clear suggestion was that Gorbachev was fully implicated.

In support of this allegation, Col. Viktor Alksnis, the well known spokesman for
military conservatives in the USSR Supreme Soviet, charged on 21 January, that
Gorbachev had betrayed the Latvian Committee for National Salvation and the
Soviet military acting in its support by backing away from the operation in Riga
on 20 January, which he had earlier endorsed. Alksnis was furious at Gorbachev's
backtracking and his attempt to shift the blame for instigating the operation to
the armed forces.5

What was particularly interesting was the adverse reaction to the January events
in the Baltics by Russians from all parts of the political spectrum. Among them
were not only liberals, like Boris Yeltsin, Tat'iana Zaslavskaia, Nikolai
Petrakov, Stanislav Shatalin, and Nikolai ShmelevÑall of whom had once been
close advisors of Gorbachev in the designing of perestroikaÑbut also
conservatives, like Afghanistan veteran Col. Aleksandr Rutskoi, an admitted
Russian nationalist (who became Yeltsin's running mate as ViceÐPresident of the
RSFSR and who later played a major role in defeating the August putsch) and the
Russian Orthodox Bishop of Lithuania, Archbishop Khrizostom.6

The angry Western reaction to the January events, although short- lived, as one
might expect, clearly infuriated Gorbachev. He particularly castigated 'the
leadership of the RSFSR' (i.e., Yeltsin) for evoking the assistance of the UN to
help solve the problem, complaining:

'We have opened up our society for cooperation and mutual activity with the
whole world and will remain true to the foreign policy course we have dopted.
However, the internal problems of the country should be handled only by the
Soviet people and no one else.'7 During February and March, as the Soviet
economy showed increasing signs of collapse and the new Cabinet of Ministers
under Valentin Pavlov demonstrated little capacity to handle the situation, the
need for Western assistance became increasingly desperate. Gorbachev came to
realise that his chosen conservative allies had little to offer in the way of a
viable solution and that in a crunch they were likely to prove unreliable for
him politicallyÑas the putsch would so eloquently demonstrate.

He thus began to look again for alternative allies. However, he found himself on
the horns of a dilemma. Any deal with Yeltsin and other republican leaders meant
a loss of a good deal of his personal power, particularly to control the
economy. On the other hand, continued chaos in the economy would surely lead to
the further fragmentation of the Union, and that had to be resisted at all
costs. He decided to gamble on a nationwide referendum on the maintenance of the
Union, hoping that if confronted by the breakup of the country, most people
would prefer to keep it together rather than risk going it alone economically in
an unreceptive world market. From his dealings with the post-communist regimes
in Eastern Europe he realised that the old system of economic linkages had given
Moscow a good deal of leverage over their policies. He assumed that this effect
would be even stronger among the component elements of the USSR itself. In any
case, the system of voting in the referendum was clearly rigged against the
aspirations of the smaller republics, whose negative votes were swamped by the
affirmative votes of the larger republics.

The Baltic states, of course, did not intend to allow this procedure to take its
course. To the evident dismay of Gorbachev, they decided to hold their own
referendums on independence several weeks before Gorbachev's national
referendum. Gorbachev used his power of decree to declare the Baltic referenda
null and void. However, the overwhelming vote for independence in all three
Baltic states, even including a substantial proportion of their Russian-speaking
populations, had an immense effect on public opinion at home and abroad.
Whatever interpretation Gorbachev and his supporters wished to place on the vote
in the national referendum8, it was clear that the people of the Baltic states
were determined on independence. This conclusion was accepted by virtually
everyone I spoke to during my visit. Few of them sought to take refuge in the
special procedures set down in Gorbachev's legislation on secession, which was
obviously designed to make secession impossible. Had the August putsch not taken
place, there would undoubtedly have been a good deal more bloodshed over the
ultimately irreconcilable differences between Gorbachev and, especially,
Landsbergis. Independence would have come eventually for the Baltic states, but
probably with a very different scenario and possibly a different cast of leading
actors; fortunately, the putsch accelerated the process and greatly reduced the
human and material costs.

The Problems of Independence in Lithuania after the Putsch President
Landsbergis's address to the 46th Session of the UN General Assembly on the
occasion of the acceptance of the three independent Baltic states into that
world body emphasised the continuing faith of the Lithuanian people that justice
would triumph in the end. That faith had at last been justified, and Lithuania
recognised the responsibilities that its new status conferred.9

This proposition was almost immediately put to the test over the new Lithuanian
Government's legislation on rehabilitating persons convicted as war criminals
under the old regime. Involved were some tens of thousands of individuals who
had been charged not only with complicity in the annihilation of Jews, but also
with participation in the anti-Soviet partisan campaigns immediately after the
war. The new Government demonstrated its inexperience by reacting with confusion
and defensiveness to the ensuing outcry in the West, in some cases, even
attempting to justify the actions of the accused. Eventually, a more
internationally acceptable solution was found by pledges to investigate
individual cases thoroughly and to deny rehabilitation to well documented war
criminals.10

The efforts of the government to demonstrate responsibility and flexibility on
these kinds of issues have not been made any easier by the marked shift to the
right in Lithuanian politics in the months since full independence. Even within
the governing 'Sajudis' coalition there have been signs of a movement to the
right. Measures have been taken to punish members of the former communist party,
and there have been pressures for the introduction of a strong presidential
system of government, without countervailing parliamentary 'checks and
balances'. President Landsbergis has seemed at times to be in sympathy with
these moves and has reinforced the impression of a rightward shift by statements
on 'honest work, family and the love of the fatherland', which, as one
correspondent has noted, are reminiscent of slogans by the French wartime
collaborator Petain, the head of the Nazi-puppet Vichy regime.11

Other disquieting signs were attempts by the government either to seize control
over or liquidate five major newspapers which had once been mouthpieces of the
communist party. The five papers joined together in a protest strike and ceased
publication on 3 December. They published a joint protest edition on 6 December
setting forth the newspapers' case and pointing out that they had firmly
supported the drive for independence and were now being punished simply for
criticising government policies. An indication of the atmosphere behind the
government crackdown was a statement in a late-night TV broadcast on 28 November
by Deputy Prime Minister Zigmas Vaisvila, charging the media critics with
complicity in a Russian-based conspiracy to organise another coup, threatening
Lithuania's newly re-gained independence. Ominously, he included the
left-leaning Mrs Prunskiene among the alleged conspirators.12 Eventually a
compromise was found, thanks to pressure from within parliament and the fear of
damage to Lithuania's image abroad as a democratic country; on 10 December,
publication of the five newspapers resumed.

Many of these problems could be attributed to the lack of experience of the new
government. There have been similar crises in other post- communist countries;
and all of them have had corresponding image problems in the West as a result.
Such actions seem to confirm the proposition, usually advanced by the European
left, that the anti-communist right in these countries can be as repressive as
their communist predecessors.13

One does not have to accept Mr. Vaisvila's conspiracy theory to acknowledge that
Lithuania is not yet free of danger from her giant eastern neighbor. Soviet
troops remain in their bases throughout the Baltic states, and high-ranking
defence officials of the Commonwealth of Independent States and/or Russia
continue to insist that these troops will not be removed until the withdrawal of
'Soviet' forces from Germany and PolandÑthat is, possibly not until 1994.14 The
importance of the ports of Klaipeda in Lithuania and Ventspills in Latvia for
Russia's seaborne commerce is an additional reason for Moscow to wish to keep
its troops on hand in these republics as leverage for the eventual negotiations
on the continued use of these facilities. Just as difficult is the problem of
Kaliningrad Oblast, an enclave of the Russian Republic that can be accessed only
through Lithuanian territory. That this is not merely a theoretical threat was
demonstrated by the gunfire in the first week of January 1992 between Lithuanian
border police and CIS troops seeking to cross over into Kaliningrad without
obtaining prior clearance from the Lithuanian authorities. Procedures will
undoubtedly be worked out between the two parties to avert such difficulties in
future, but the need for a strong Lithuanian defence establishment to raise the
price of this kind of bullying behaviour to the eastern neighbor is
self-evident, however heavy the economic burden of maintaining such an
establishment on the struggling Lithuanian economy.

A similarly thorny problem for the new government have been relations with its
important southern neighbor, Poland. A number of the substantial Polish minority
population in Vilnius and Salcininkai had reportedly sided with the
anti-Gorbachev putsch leaders in August 1991. Consequently, a number of their
representatives on local councils in these districts were removed from office,
and there have been no moves to hold new elections to replace them, resulting in
complaints from the Polish Government over the allegedly discriminatory
treatment of its co-nationals in Lithuania.15 This is an issue with deep
historical roots, and neither country can afford to let it become a major
problem at a critical time in their respective national renaissances. Polish
negotiators had set the calling of new elections in the disputed districts as a
condition for the signing of the mutually desired inter-state agreement. The
Poles evidently decided to abandon this condition, and on 13 January 1992,
during a visit to Vilnius, Polish Foreign Minister Skubiszewski signed a joint
'Declaration on Friendly Relations and Good-Neighbourly Cooperation'.16 This was
a significant achievement, but it still left unsettled a number of other
problems of minority rights, particularly in the areas of culture, education and
religion (e.g., the appointment of Polish-speaking Roman Catholic priests in
predominantly Polish parishes). The treatment of Russian and Jewish minorities
will also continue to focus international attention on the policies of the
Lithuanian Government.

By far the most sensitive area of its activities remains the economy, however,
and economic success or failure may well determine the future orientation of
Lithuanian politics. Lithuania was as fully integrated into the economy of the
former USSR as any other republic, and the collapse of that economic system has
undoubtedly aggravated the already serious problems of transition to an
independent market economy. Some indication of the vulnerability of the
Lithuanian economy was its response to Gorbachev's economic blockade in the
spring of 1990 following the 11 March declaration of independence, when
deliveries of fuel and raw materials for the operation of Lithuanian industry
were all but halted.17 Although less dependent than the other two Baltic states
on the CIS for inputs and markets, Lithuania continues to have considerable
difficulty restructuring its economy and re- orienting it toward Western
markets. Shortages of petrol and other items indicate the difficulties of the
present situation of dependence on the collapsing CIS market while lacking the
hard currency reserves to pay for substitutes from other sources.

According to Kazimieras Antanavicius, Chairman of the Economic Commission of the
Lithuanian Parliament (who recently visited Australia), the two main priorities
of Lithuania's economic reform are the establishment of a national currencyÑthe
litasÑand privatisation. The former is needed to protect the economy from
Russian pressure; the latter, to absorb the large overhang of rubles in the
possession of Lithuanian citizensÑsome 10 billion rubles. As in Russia and the
other states of the CIS, however, the privatisation process is being impeded by
bureaucratic procedures and popular habits inherited from the old system.18 The
new currency is already available in the banks, according to Prime Minister
Vagnorius, but problems of establishing an acceptable exchange rate with the
ruble without causing panic among ruble-holders militate against the
introduction of the litas before radical price reforms, which were scheduled to
be in place by the end of 1991.19 By staying outside the CIS, Lithuania, Latvia
and Estonia have probably been able to avoid some of the worst disruptions of
Yeltsin's economic reforms, but eventually some agreement will have to be
reached with their giant neighbor to keep their respective economies
functioning, at least until suitable arrangements can be made with the EC and
other Western partners.

Conclusions

In January 1991 the eyes of the world were turned toward the Baltic states.
Vilnius and Riga were subject to the vicious attacks of OMON and other Soviet
troops, and many in the West began to have a clearer idea of what Gorbachev
really had in mind under the fog of 'perestroika', 'glasnost' and
'democratisation'. Most Western governments, meanwhile, were urging Lithuania to
be cautious and not to provoke Gorbachev or force him into the arms of his
conservative opponentsÑnot understanding that he was already there. Vytautas
Landsbergis, the Chairman of Lithuania's Supreme Council, seemed to understand
better than most just what was at stake and persisted in a policy that could be
called 'non-provocative defiance', temporarily suspending the effects of the
most extreme demands for independence, while keeping up the pressure on
Gorbachev and the conscience of the West.

This turned out to be a brilliant strategy in the face of the incessant
provocations from reactionary Soviet civilian and para-military forces and their
local supporters. Landsbergis's steadfastness was eventually rewarded by Russian
President Boris Yeltsin, who saw his resistance as similarly motivated to his
own and with the same enemies. With the failure of the August putsch by these
forces, the West could no longer morally delay recognition of Baltic
independence and again followed Yeltsin's lead in doing so. The victory of the
Baltic states was finally achieved, and pride of place in its attainment clearly
lay with Landsbergis and Sajudis. As Gorbachev had tacitly understood, it also
marked the beginning of the end of the Soviet domestic empire. Once begun, the
process of disintegration took less than four months!

In retrospect, the achievement of formal political independence and diplomatic
recognition looks almost easy in comparison with the problems of attaining full
economic and social independence. Delivered from the constraints of communist
party rule domestically and the screen of Soviet representation in international
relations, Lithuania must now develop its economic and political institutions
and practices in the full glare of international publicity. As in the case of
most of the post-communist successor regimes in the former Soviet orbit, the
initial steps of the new Lithuanian Government have not always brought credit
upon it, however justifiable some of its actions may have seemed to its citizens
and politicians. Despite the favourable disposition of the overwhelming majority
of the democratic world community, there are some among them who are ready to
point to the not always glorious past of prewar and wartime Lithuania; and given
importance of assistance from the democratic West, such criticism cannot be a
matter of indifference to Lithuanian citizens and their well wishers abroad.
Fortunately, the present-day world is not like that of the 1930s, when there
were seeming alternative models for small, struggling countries to emulate.
Fascism may have made the 'trains run on time', but no-one seemed to understand
or care then that the trains were headed over a precipice. There are simply no
alternative models today to democratic politics and the market economy, so the
options for small, transforming countries like Lithuania are relatively
clearcut.

Nevertheless, the tasks of implementing those options are by no means simple.
The external dangers to independence and prosperity are certainly real enough,
but the temptation to use them to justify domestic repression and
authoritarianism must be avoided. There are just too many competitors for
economic and diplomatic assistanceÑeven within the former Soviet UnionÑfor
Lithuania to ignore the need to present herself in the best possible light. The
moral dedication and sacrifice of the struggle for independence should continue
to serve as a beacon light for the equally difficult battle to achieve a proper
economic and political place among the democratic nations of Europe.


Notes

1 For a chronicle of these incidents, particularly against frontier and customs
posts, see Andrei Krivov, '"Mezhdunarodnyi terrorizm" v Pribaltike ili Kakie
argumenty ponimaiut "nashi"', Russkaia mysl'' (Paris), 31 May 1991, p. 7.

2 These issues are canvassed in some detail by Ahmed Rashid in 'Picking up the
pieces', Far Eastern Economic Review, 9 January 1992, pp. 13-20.

3 'Zakliuchenie nezavisimykh voennykh ekspertov organizatsii "Shchit" na
sobytiia v Vilniuse 11-13 ianvaria 1991 goda', Spetsial'noe prilozhenie',
Russkaia mysl', 22 February 1991, p. II.

4 ibid., p. III.

5 Report on the USSR, 1 February 1991, p. 17.

6 'Priest denounces troops', Sydney Morning Herald, 22 January 1991, p. 9.

7 'Zaiavlenie Prezidenta SSSR M.S. Gorbacheva', Sovetskaia Latviia, 24 January
1991, p. 1.

8 For an example of a particularly brazen interpretation, see the editorial by
Iu, Iakutin, 'Komu meshaet souznyi dogovor', Ekonomika i zhizn' , No. 14 (April
1991), p. 1, where Iakutin asserts that the 76.4% nationwide vote in favour of
the Union overrode the clear anti-Union position of the six non- participating
republics: 'For you must agree, in voting for the Union, we have voted for its
historically developed integrity, in its present frontiers, in its present
composition.'

9 "Rech' Vitautasa Landsbergisa na 46-oi sessii General'noi Assamblei OON", Ekho
Litvy, 19 September 1991, p. 1.

10 For an account of these proceedings see Edward Lucas, 'Lithuania set to
revise treatment of "war criminals"', reprinted from The Independent in The
Baltic Independent, 1-7 November 1991, p. 5.

11 Matthias Lufkens, 'Lithuanian Sajudis moves to the right', The Baltic
Independent, 20-26 December 1991, p. 1.

12 Baltija reports, 'Lithuanian independence in jeopardy', published in The
Baltic Independent, 6-12 December 1991, p. 5.

13 For a useful summary of the event and its background see Saulius Girnius,
'Controversy over Free Press in Lithuania', Report on the USSR, Vol 3, No. 51/52
(20 December 1991), pp. 20-3.

14 See the interview with a Finnish newspaper of Defence Minister E.
Shaposhnikov on 15 December 1991, 'Soviet Defence Minister suggests Soviet
troops stay in Baltics', The Baltic Independent, 20-26 December 1991, p. 5.

15 Richard Krickus, 'Lithuania's Polish Question', Report on the USSR, Vol. 3,
No. 48 (29 November 1991, pp. 20-3.

16 'Trudna Wizyta', Donosy (electronic mail from Warsaw), No. 706 (13 January
1992). The terms of the agreement are given briefly in 'Deklaracje
polsko-litewska', ibid., No. 707 (14 January 1992).

17 For an analysis of this problem see Philip Hanson, 'How Vulnerable Is
Lithuania to Economic Pressure?', Report on the USSR, Vol. 2, No. 17 (27 April
1990), pp. 15-17.

18 See the interview with Antanavicius by an Estonian journalist published in
The Baltic Independent, 8-14 November 1991, p. 2.

19 'Lithuanian new currency already in bank vaults', The Baltic Independent,
15-21 November 1991, p. 3.