Estonia's Bronze Soldier comes home to a bed of roses

By Ben Nimmo May 9, 2007, 22:22 GMT

Tallinn - Life for Estonia's most infamous monument has not been a bed of roses recently, but that all changed on Wednesday as Estonia's Russians visited it in its new home for the first time.

By sunset, the gravel triangle in front of the monument was buried deep in flowers. The low walls on either side of it were piled with carnations, and candles smoked among the blooms.

Wednesday marked the anniversary of Soviet victory in World War II, and a key date for Estonia's 345,000 ethnic Russians who vigorously opposed the statue's relocation from the capital city's bustling centre to the war cemetery.

In fact, the broad swathe of grass beside the so-called Bronze Soldier was transformed into a flower-bed as hundreds upon hundreds of ethnic Russians paid their respect to the dead of World War II.

'It's a good place,' said teenager Denis, looking around at the sunlit cypress and birch trees, with the birds singing in the branches. 'It's peaceful - not like the city centre.'

Two weeks ago, Estonia's right-wing government decided to relocate the brooding seven-foot statue from the square in central Tallinn where it has stood for 60 years, to a military cemetery two kilometres from the city centre.

Estonians see the monument as a reminder of their state's illegal occupation by the Soviet Union. Most ethnic Russians, however, see it as a tribute to their forefathers' sacrifices in WWII.

The government's move sparked the worst rioting Estonia has seen since the Russians Revolution as protests at the move spilled over into violence and looting.

'They shouldn't have moved the monument. It stood there in peace for 60 years, how did it hurt anyone?' pensioner Vera asked.

Ten days ago, the monument was unveiled in its new location, a military cemetery at the end of a winding road on the southern edge of the city centre. The 12 coffins which it had covered for 60 years were disinterred, and their remains taken away for identification.

Ethnic-Russian activists called on their compatriots to ignore the monument in its new location, and to celebrate May 9 at the former location, even though it was now fenced off.

On Wednesday, many did so, coming to the city centre to lace flowers into the metal fences surrounding the monument's old site.

But many more - several thousand at least - made the trek to the new monument, winding in long files up the narrow access road with bunches of roses and carnations in their hands.

A cheerful solemnity filled the cemetery as whole families added their flowers to the piles. Children sat on their parents' shoulders to get a better view, or counted the flowers aloud in awed tones.

'I'm surprised to see so many people here - it's hard to get to, and it's a long walk. There are always a lot of people celebrating on this day, but this is something more,' Denis said.

The monument's new location, at the head of an avenue of cypresses, seemed to have won at least grudging acceptance.

'It's not as good as the centre, but it's just about acceptable. It's too like a graveyard, too dark, too quiet, though - this is supposed to be a day for parties,' student Roman Nikolaev said.

'It's a nice place, peaceful, but it was better in the old place,' schoolgirl Olya added.

The saga of Estonia's war memorial is not yet over. The riots sparked a painful reassessment of Estonia's integration policy - a policy which was once seen as a cause of national pride.

The removal of the monument, only two weeks before one of the most sacred days in the Russian calendar, caused immense anger in Estonia's Russian minority - an anger which it will not be easy to assuage.

But as the sun set over Tallinn, and police reported that all was calm on the city's streets, it seemed that for the Bronze Soldier, at least, the saga had ended in a peaceful homecoming.