cc  >> Here we go.  I need a cup to clink.  (light switch clicks)  Ooh, it worked.  Good evening.  Welcome to the second BALSSI  lecture of the summer.  My name's Nancy Heingartner, and  I'm the outreach coordinator at  the Center for Russia, East  Europe, and Central Asia, as  well as the program coordinator  for BALSSI, the Baltic Studies  Summer Institute.  I'm delighted to be introducing  Maria Ogrydziak this evening.  Maria and I met a little over a  year ago at a wonderful event  sponsored by the US Baltic  Foundation in Washington, DC.  I recall thinking at the time  that Maria would make a fine  BALSSI lecturer and I'm  delighted that she's able to  join us this evening.  Before I get to my formal  introduction, I would like to  draw your attention to two  upcoming BALSSI events. 

 The first, which takes place a  week from today in this very  room, will be a lecture by  CREECA director, Ted Gerber.  The title of Ted's talk will be  "Caught In Between, Citizenship,  Identity, and Young Ethnic  Russians in Estonia."  The second event, a concert,  takes place on Saturday, July  10th, from 4-5PM in room 1111 of  the Humanities building.  Martinas Lavidskis is a teenaged  Lithuanian accordion prodigy,  who will be in Madison to play  in honor of Lithuanian National  Day.  Please visit the BALSSI website  for more information on these  and other upcoming events.  And now, to tonight.  Maria Ogrydziak is not only the  chairman of the board of  directors at the US Baltic  Foundation, an organization  that, among other things, works  to develop and implement  programs to strengthen democracy  and free markets in Estonia,  Latvia, and Lithuania, she's  also an internationally renowned  architect and founder of Maria  Ogrydziak Architecture in Davis,  California.  Maria got her architecture  degree from MIT, where, as one  of the first female student body  presidents at a major US  university, she received  worldwide attention focusing the  spotlight on design by creating  a prototype model classroom  that's still used as an example  today.  This evening, Maria's talk comes  from a book her  great-grandfather, Mihkel Martna  wrote 100 years ago, entitled  "Estonia, the Estonians, and the  Estonian Question," which made  the case for a free Estonia.  During Martna's time, Estonia  did enjoy a brief stint of  freedom, but it was then  occupied by the Soviets and the  horrors of World War II hit.  Estonia has been free again  since 1991, and Maria is now  going to tell us why this  matters. 

 Please join me in welcoming  Maria Ogrydziak.  (applause)  >> Maria Ogrydziak:  I'm Estonian American.  I'm also an architect, and have  always wondered why I am  obsessed with creating a sense  of permanence in my work.  I'm passionate about creating  designs with strong identity.  Slowly, I have begun to believe  that there is a strong  connection to my Estonian roots.  Estonians have stubbornly lived  on the same small piece of land  on the edge of the Baltic Sea  for at least 4,000 years, and  have endured incredible  hardships.  Subjugation by various large  powers, serfdom, war, and  attempts at eradication.  How did these people, now once  again an independent nation of  1.3 million,  survive and keep their identity,  earning the right to speak  their own language  and govern themselves?  Who are Estonians?  Priit Vesilind writes,  "The ancestors of Estonians,  nomads from the valleys  of the upper Volga,  reached the Baltic  in the third millennium BC.  One of the tribes that included  forefathers of Finns and  Hungarians, they spoke a  language separate from the  Indo-European tongues.  Seafarers, hunters, beekeepers,  fishermen, farmers. 

 They lived in peace with the  spirits of the land, asking  permission of the forests to hew  its trees and praying for  forgiveness to the spirit of the  bear when they slew him."  And then, in the early 13th  century, came the fury of the  Christians.  Danish kings, Teutonic monks,  crusaders, the knights of the  sword, offering either  conversion or decapitation.  The land of the blessed virgin  became a fiefdom of German land  barons that remained intact for  centuries through a succession  of other occupiers.  Russia's Peter the Great,  wresting the Baltic from the  Swedes in the early 1700s, raped  the countryside in a misery of  fire, war, and famine.  Half the Estonian population  perished.  Russia ruled for 200 years, but  the culture had become  unalterably Germanic, Lutheran,  and Western.  Not until the late 19th century  did a cultural renaissance stir  Estonian nationalism, catalyzed  by the 1857-61 serialized  publication of an ancient  and powerful hero,  Galevi Boy, by --.  At this time, about a hundred  years ago, individual Estonians  figured out how to create a  nation.  One of these men was my  great-grandfather.  Mihkel Martna, an Estonian by  language and culture, grew up in  this land when it seemed an  inseparable part of czarist  Russia. 

 There was no Estonia, but he  dreamed of independence and set  about proving why Estonia should  exist, writing a book in 1919  called "Estonia, the Estonians,  and the Estonian Question."  Then, through diplomacy and  persuasion, using the arguments  made in the book, he and others  spoke to representatives of  other nations and built a case  for Estonia.  Who was Mihkel Martna?  This year is his 150th birthday  jubilee.  He was born in 1860 to a tenant  farmer and his wife.  He attended a village school for  only five years, from the age of  8 to 13, and then took a variety  of courses at universities in  Tartu, Bern, Zurich, Berlin, and  Vienna.  He specifically names with  gratitude those individuals who  gave him access to their book  collections, as he had no means  to purchase books.  He never received a degree, but  was awarded an honorary  doctorate from Tartu University.  Becoming an Estonian nationalist  and liberal thinker, he taught  himself to write so well that he  was sought after to write  political papers and books.  While he started his adult life  as an artisan, he soon became  involved in politics and was  elected to the Tartu city  council.  He acquired a printing  establishment and printed a  liberal newspaper.  He was jailed by the czarist  government and then fled to live  in exile until he could return  safely. 

 In 1917, he was appointed to the  diplomatic mission abroad,  participating in several  international socialist  congresses and diplomatic  missions to England and Germany,  to advocate for the right to  self-determination for the  Estonian people.  He was at the peace conference  at the Treaty of Versailles,  where independence was finally  granted to Estonia.  And after independence, he was a  member of the Estonian  parliament until his death in  1934.  His life story parallels the  book he wrote about Estonia.  The events, people, conditions  he describes are the ones he  knows intimately.  In the foreword of his book, he  writes, "It is a need for us  Estonians to inform the world of  the facts, questions, and  circumstances important to us  and of our resolution to reach  national independence and to  maintain it.  It is our task to make the world  aware of our existence, to  awaken interest in us and to  hopefully gain the sympathy of  other nations."  How did he explain who the  Estonians were and why they  deserved to have an independent  country?  Martna describes the land and  its inhabitants.  He explains that the Baltic  German nobility, which claimed  to have the rights to this land,  consisted of only about 250  families.  He defines Estonia as the  geographic area inhabited by  Estonian-speaking people and  outlines the boundaries of this  area, from the edge of the  Baltic Sea to the west,  including some 80 islands, to  the Russian speakers to the  east, to the ethnographic  dividing line of the south  between the Estonians and  Latvians.  The population of this area at  the time consisted of  1.68 million Estonians,  also called non-Germans,  or non-persons, mostly peasants,  laborers, and middle class. 

 And 25,000 Germans, mostly  landowners and upper class.  He concluded from these numbers  that it was essentially  non-German country, meaning it  was Estonian.  Martna describes Estonian  identity, and the emergence of  nationalism.  In the late 1800s, Estonians had  begun to participate in the  national liberation movement.  He writes, "The Estonian people  at all levels have shown amazing  tenacity that is matched by  frugality.  They work themselves up to a  level that makes them considered  to be a cultured nation, despite  the attacks and obstacles put in  their way by the feudal group."  He writes that the people had  the interest and the energy to  organize the first song festival  in 1869, to celebrate the 50th  anniversary of the emancipation  of the Estonian peasants.  The smaller choirs that already  existed were merged into larger  song festivals and the festivals  were held every four years and  grew in size, eventually to  include virtually the entire  population, giving a powerful  voice to the yearnings of the  people to be free.  The book explains that Estonians  believed in education.  The illiteracy rate for  Estonians was very low.  In the census of 1897, children  under 10 excluded, more than 96%  of Estonians were literate. 

 Mothers taught their children to  read, and the Lutheran clergy  insisted on engaged couples  knowing how to read.  Attention was focused on the  mother's education, as she would  be the one to transmit knowledge  to the next generation.  Teachers were revered.  Martna writes that "the Baltic  upper class had believed that  human work animals, that is, the  Estonians, need no education."  He stated that "civilization  gives humanity its strength to  survive.  It creates higher forms of life  and it is  naturally progressive."  He did not want conditions  to remain as they were.  In the 1860s, village schools  had been established using  Estonian teachers.  Education gave the children the  ability to read and write and  taught them basic skills and  arithmetic.  Education broadened their  perspective.  Estonians wanted access to  vocational schools to provide  training and skill development.  They wished for publicly  accessible art collections,  music, and libraries, which they  didn't have. 

 They sought higher education and  many actually achieved great  success, often adopting German  names in order to be accepted.  After all, Estonians had built  St. Olaf's church  at the end of the 15th century.  At 159 meters, it was the  tallest building in the world  between 1549 and 1655.  Tartu University was founded  four years before Harvard and  its scholars have contributed  fundamental ideas in fields of  biology, physics, and  engineering.  Estonians believe in equality  for men and women.  The ancient Estonian language  has no gender.  From the beginning, men and  women worked side by side to eke  out an existence in this harsh  land, and women worked in the  fields as well as looking after  the home.  I know that both my grandmothers  went to university before 1920  in medicine and astronomy.  Estonian women went on to  university actually at a higher  rate than in Germany.  Martna writes that the "German  upper class in Estonia believed  that the Estonians are not able  to govern themselves."  Martna knows that the  Estonians need experienced  diplomats and statesmen and  argues that the peasant  population had organized  representative self-government  within their congregations and  that already during serfdom the  village people had their own  system of village management. 

 He was firmly convinced that  Estonians do have leaders who  can be trusted with the future  of their country.  He documents the living  conditions for the Estonian  population and that it would not  improve unless the people were  able to govern themselves.  Healthcare was poor.  There were no hospitals, there  was no infant or maternity care.  River water was polluted by  sewer discharge and disease and  epidemics were common.  Martna knew that Estonians had  to become self-reliant to take  care of their own and outlines  the strategy for an independent  Estonian economy, based on the  country's abundant natural  resources.  He describes the advantage of  the ice-free port of Paldiski.  He points out that Estonia  contributed annually more in  customs duties to Russia than  Russia spent on Estonia.  He says, "We will suffer, but we  will survive."  Martna argues that land  ownership was the primary issue  at the heart of the Estonian  struggle for independent  existence.  He says, "The nobility has lived  in the midst of the Estonian  people, using its historical  privileges for centuries."  He wrote that it would be  necessary to obliterate the rest  of the feudal agrarian system  and create a way for natural  free development, so the farmer  can be in control of all his  labor and it would become  possible to produce more food  that is less expensive to grow. 

 In the 19th century, the owner  of all the estates also had  legal rights to virtually all  the remaining land in the  Estonian province.  With the exclusive right to  build factories, breweries,  mills, to sell the products, to  operate the stores and fairs, to  hunt and fish.  Peasants had to pay for the  roads and bridges and pay to  maintain schools and parish  offices.  Large numbers of Estonians were  forced into poverty.  He argues that land reform was  essential.  Martna writes that when war  broke out between the Baltic  nobility and the czarists, each  side claimed the Baltics as  their territory.  He explains why Estonians had no  desire to be governed by either  one.  The Estonian people no longer  accepted the mastery of the  German Baltic nobility.  He said, "They feel justified  and able to determine their own  future.  They will not be dominated by a  privileged upper class that  constitutes no more  than 0.25 percent  of the population and  is of a foreign nationality."  On February 24, 1918, Estonia  declared its independence. 

 In April 1918, communication to  Estonia was cut off as the  German army tried to convince  the world that the Estonians  actually wanted to be part of  Germany.  The Estonian representatives  refused to go along and insisted  the duly elected Estonian  constituent assembly was the  only authority with the right to  express the will of the Estonian  people, who are willing to live  according to their own legal  system in free, non-partisan,  and friendly relations with  other countries.  With regards to Russia, Martna  explains why Estonians were  refusing to continue as before.  The two nations differ  profoundly in language as well  as customs, tradition, and  religion.  But the political movements are  even more serious.  The Russian power legalized the  most obvious forms of oppression  and exploitation.  It introduced forced  Russification for the foreign or  border populations.  Political workers used the  schools as a means of  de-nationalization.  Estonian was replaced by Russian  in schools where the children  had never heard a single word of  Russian.  No Estonian teachers were  employed, and Russian history,  geography, and literature were  privileged. 

 The Estonian language was  forbidden.  Russian textbooks of the time  described Estonians as  barbarians.  Attitudes towards Estonians did  not change after the czarist  revolution.  Vividly etched in Estonians'  memories, the 200 years of  Russian rule in Estonia proved  clearly that Russia kept the  Estonian people in a  politically, culturally, and  economically deprived situation.  Martna explains that Estonians  participated in the Russian  revolution because they assumed  it would free them from 700  years of repression and  political pressure along with  the disagreeable practice of  Russification.  But they soon lost what they had  gained as Germans regained  control, ready to reinstate  feudalism and introduce German  as the new official language.  The next years were chaotic as  Estonians were punished for  daring to speak openly about  independence.  German troops occupied the  country from February to  November of 1918 and left  Estonia defenseless against the  November attack of the Red Army.  Bolsheviks attacked from the  east and terrorized Estonia for  three months, long enough to  familiarize the people with the  brutality of Bolshevik power,  and Bolsheviks prepared for a  military invasion of Estonia.  Martna quotes from the December  25, 1918 Moscow-based Izvestia. 

 "The assumption that the Baltic  Sea has lost its significance  for Soviet Russia is false.  Besides its great economic  importance, the Baltic Sea has  great significance politically.  The Baltic Sea is the path upon  which the allies could easily  attack the birthplace of the  workers' revolution in the  world.  Therefore, Soviet Russia has to  try to reconquer the coast of  the Baltic Sea and to replant in  this country the red flag of  encouragement.  The coast of the Baltic Sea,  with its harbors, is an  important foundation on which  Soviet Russia could base its  fight against the world.  The Baltic Sea and the Baltic  provinces lie in a path between  Russia and western Europe and  form a hindrance to our  revolution by separating Soviet  Russia from revolutionary  Germany.  This separating wall must be  taken down."  Martna observes that the  Bolsheviks claimed to represent  the Estonian proletariat, but he  points out that Estonians were  united in opposition to the  invasion.  The end of World War I gave  repressed nations the right to  exercise self-determination and  Estonians seized their  opportunity.  But they were used as pawns.  Lenin and Trotsky had made  Estonia into a trading object as  they negotiated with the  Germans. 

 Desperate, the Estonians looked  for foreign assistance and  received a loan and 200  volunteers from the Finns as  well as some weapons and  munitions from England.  And the British sent a naval   detachment into the Baltic Sea  as a deterrent to the Russians,  but Estonia was on its own.  In January 1919, they had to  take a stand against the more  numerous Russian red troops and  to stop the mass executions of  Estonians by the Bolsheviks.  Amazingly, the Estonians were  able to force them out of their  country.  All classes of the population  took up arms, office workers,  teachers, city counselors, and  doctors.  Mihkel Martna's son,  my grandfather, a lawyer  and elected member of the  constituent assembly, fought  alongside his fellow Estonians.  Martna writes that the Soviets  were amassing more troops on the  border, right as the Estonians  were trying to persuade the  participants in the League of  Nations to bless the creation of  the Republic of Estonia.  Martna, a social democrat,  writes how difficult it was to  hold in check the strong  feelings of revenge against the  cruelties inflicted by the  Bolsheviks.  He believed in the rule of law  and democracy, not in  retaliatory death sentences  imposed by harsh military  tribunals.  He states that "for the Republic  of Estonia, the war with this  Russian Soviet power is a  terrible, unwarranted,  undeserved disaster. 

 Estonia has not opposed Russia  and the Estonian people have in  no way planned aggression  against Russia.  The Estonian people have no  sinister plans against that  country, and it has only one  wish, to be left in peace by  Russia.  The socialist parties in Estonia  do not consider communism the  harbinger of future socialist  world order for which we  Estonians strive."  Elections took place in early  April 1919, and the resulting  constituent assembly met in  Tallinn on April 23, 1919.  It undertook the task of  detailing the structure of the  government and accepting the  constitution.  The brand new nation of Estonia  was being born.  Since that time, Estonians have  kept their identity and their  belief in themselves.  The ideas presented in Martna's  book have held true.  Estonians have created a  democratic society that strives  to be self-sufficient and is    built on the strengths of its  people.  The population is small, and it  has had to rely on its wits,  rather than military might.  Estonians cherish their hard-won  freedoms and understand the  importance of having their own  country where they are not ruled  by a larger nation. 

 They want to be their own  problem solvers and make their  own decisions.  They have deep bonds with each  other, forged through shared  hardships and tragic losses.  So today, about 100 years later,  how is Estonia?  Are the bonds Martna describes  still there?  How does the country exist in  spite of all the hardships?  Estonia was independent between  the two world wars for a period  of 22 years.  During this time the new nation  developed its economy and was  integrated into western Europe.  The people proved they were  ready to have a country.  Then, a dreadful chapter in  Estonian history occurred.  The Baltic states were traded  away, secretly, as part of the  Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact.  Hitler essentially gave Stalin  the Baltic states.  History was repeating itself.  By the end of the war, the  already small population was  split into three fragments. 

 One group was deported or  killed.  Another group fled to the west.  The third remained in an  occupied land, ruled once again  by a powerful and much larger  nation.  The survivors from each separate  group would lead parallel lives,  in many cases unable to  communicate with each other for  decades.  One third of the population was  lost in the process, 350,000  people.  Some amazing bonds had to be in  place to withstand this and  allow the nation to be able to  be reborn.  This period of 45 years was  difficult.  It started in 1940 with  liberation, as Soviet tanks  rolled into the tiny nation.  Then there were deportations on  June 14, 1941.  The list of deportees was a  specifically targeted group of  people. 

 Political leaders, the wealthy,  intellectuals, teachers, amongst  them both my grandfathers.  Today, this is remembered as the  day of mourning.  I quote from President Ilves's  speech of two weeks ago as he  eloquently describes the meaning  of this day.  "On this night, 69 years ago,  fists and boots pounded on doors  all over Estonia.  People were given scant time to  pack a few things.  Families were separated and a  long journey into the unknown  began.  For many of those deported, it  was a journey from which they  would never return.  In one night, the Soviet  occupying forces tore 45,000  people in Estonia, Latvia, and  Lithuania from their homes and  spirited them into the unknown.  45,000 different lives and  destinies.  Mothers and fathers. 

 Children and classmates.  Friends and neighbors, all  changed forever.  In one summer night, the  occupation forces tried to sow  terror into the hearts of three  nations.  They attempted to destroy our  civic courage and excise our  determination to be independent.  They failed.  The occupation powers proved  weaker than our memory and our  hope.  Our memory kept alive the idea  of independence, sustained our  hope, and did not let us fade  out of existence.  Even now, we must not forget  what was done here during the  occupations.  We cannot close our eyes to the  mass murders, deportations,  plundering of nature, or  disfiguring of our spirit.  Estonia lost many people due to  the occupations and the war, but  Estonia survived. 

 Our enemies, those who would  divide and rule the world,  disappeared from maps of the  world.  These regimes have ceased to  exist.  We, on the other hand, are still  here.  We carry on, forgiving but never  forgetting."  Later there were more  deportations.  This was the efficient way to  rid the upstart country of its  political leaders and  intelligentsia.  There was a diaspora, as those  who could fled the country,  knowing that death or  imprisonment awaited them if  they remained.  10% of the Estonian population  ended up in Sweden, Finland,  Germany, Canada, the USA,  Australia, Argentina, anywhere  they were accepted.  As my father told me, "now we  are citizens of the world."  The diaspora scattered  families across the globe and  even now, lost relatives are  found.  My mother just recently, two  years ago, finally found out  what had happened to her cousin,  widowed when her young husband  had been killed in the war and  she was left with a newborn baby  in the middle of the chaos.  When my niece showed up for a  college interview in Houston,  her elderly interviewer looked  at her as though he had seen a  ghost. 

 Discovering she was partly  Estonian, he said she looked  exactly like a girl he had known  some 50 years ago and that she  was living in Venezuela.  It turned out that girl was my  mother's cousin and that she had  fled to Germany on foot, with  her baby, and eventually ended  up in Venezuela, where she had  started a new family.  Such stories are not uncommon  for Balts.  The population left behind was  now in an occupied land.  If they lived in Tallinn, they  had to leave their homes.  They had to speak Russian.  If they wanted to get ahead,  they had to betray their friends  and neighbors.  The gains that had been made  during independence were lost.  Once they had been peasants,  tied to farms owned by the  nobility.  Now they were workers, tied to  collectives owned by the state. 

 Shops were empty and free  enterprise was nonexistent.  Patriotic songs at the festivals  were forbidden.  Hundreds of thousands of  Russians were relocated into  Estonia.  For years, some Estonians  continued to fight for freedom  and hid out in the forests.  They believed that the West was  on its way to help them, any  time soon.  No one understood how the world  community could allow this  occupation to happen.  The lesson learned was that help  did not come and Estonia was on  its own.  Estonia had to be self-reliant.  Did the tiny nation survive  this?  45 years was a long time.  It was long enough for new  generations to be born and have  families of their own. 

 How was the love for the nation  of Estonia passed on?  Communication between east and  west was cut off.  Maps only showed a huge landmass  called the USSR, with no  Estonia.  My Canadian teachers in grade  school told me in no uncertain  terms that I could not possibly  be Estonian, as there was no  such country or place, and that  I really was Russian.  I have learned since that this  was a common experience for my  generation of fellow Balts.  If you are not on a map of the  world, you do not exist.  Many who had fled knew that they  could not return.  Soviet law stated that those  born in what had become a Soviet  republic were automatically  considered Soviet citizens.  The people who lived there could  not leave.  The beaches were patrolled, the  roads checked.  Estonians were basically  imprisoned behind the Iron  Curtain. 

 My parents had friends who  thought they could go visit  relatives, but they did not come  back.  We knew they had every intention  of coming back, but they  disappeared.  Letters were censored and  packages opened.  My grandmother, who did not make  it out to the west in time, was  never able to see her son or her  grandchildren.  And my father was constantly  being persuaded to visit his  dear motherland.  My father was a highly desirable  commodity, an engineer who knew  how to extract oil from the  Arctic.  During those 45 years for those  watching from the West, there  was little information about  Estonia.  It was as though it had been  deleted from the face of the  earth.  But there were heroes who kept  the dream alive.  Priit Vesilind,  a National Geographic writer,  wrote a poignant article  in 1980 about his first visit to  Estonia since he fled as a child  in 1944. 

 He writes, "Freedom.  The seagulls have it.  Soaring in the wake of the  ferryboat that connects Finland  and the Estonian Soviet  Socialist Republic, they travel  in unfettered anonymity.  They need no visas.  They ask no one's permission.  The affairs of man are not that  simple or that harmonious.  This nation, called Estonia,  is a land tormented by its  geography.  Glaciers scraped into flatness  and vulnerability a battleground  for rival powers of the Slavic  east and the Germanic west, a  pawn in the callous and  grandiose sweeps of European  history.  For 700 years it lay under the  boot of conquerors, Germans,  Danes, Poles, Swedes, and the  czars of Russia.  It has been bled and healed  again and again. 

 But through it all, a -- of  culture stubbornly survived, a  tribal memory that strengthened  and erupted into nationalism.  In 1919, with Russia in the  turmoil of revolution, Estonia  declared and fought for its  independence.  Finally in 1920 the nation was  free."  This article was treasured by  all those in the west.  Priit had dared to write  what many felt.  The flag has played a part in  communicating the dream of  Estonia.  It has evolved to become one of  the strongest symbols of the  Estonian people.  In the 19th century, the flag of  the Estonian students' union at  the University of Tartu was  adopted to represent independent  Estonia.  The three colors, blue, black,  and white, became a powerful  tool for communicating  patriotism and recognition of  the existence of Estonia.  The belief is that blue  represents sky, black the earth,  and white stands for the clear  conscience of the Estonian  people.  The flag was forbidden during  occupation, but Estonians knew  what the colors meant. 

 Prisoners in the gulags made  themselves reminders of their  precious country.  The displays in the occupation  museum of artifacts made while  in captivity demonstrate the  strength of the symbolism of  these three colors.  Prisoners found bits and pieces  of whatever they could find in  their dire circumstances.  Snippets of fabric, thread,  paper, and created assemblages  with the three colors in the  correct order.  Some were tiny, tiny objects.  They symbolized memories of the  past and hope for the future.  They remain some of the most  poignant art pieces I have ever  seen.  Estonians in the west knew the  flag was forbidden behind the  Iron Curtain, and the penalties  for displaying it were severe.  During the height of the Cold  War, I remember seeing a  documentary on public television  of a USSR fashion show from  Tallinn, and the unbelievable  sight of the fashion models on  the runway wearing garments in  various combinations of blue,  black, and white.  The thrill of understanding that  hope was strong, even in the  darkest of times, was evident in  the faces of my parents as they  watched in amazement, realizing  that the officials from the USSR  were unaware of the secret, but  obvious, message being  transmitted to the west. 

 The models calmly paraded their  outfits and pretended it was  nothing but the latest in  fashion.  The show was proclaimed a  success in demonstrating the  freedom allowed within the USSR  to experiment in western-style  fashion, but neither the  organizers, nor western TV, ever  knew the real story.  According to tradition, the  Estonian flag flies atop Pikk  Herman, the tallest tower on  Parliament Hill, to signify the  country is free.  You can imagine the horror of  seeing the cover of a 1974  guidebook of Tallinn, then known  as the capital of the Estonian  SSR, with a picture of a Soviet  flag atop the tower.  The correct flag is now up there  and one of the most popular  objects in an Estonian household  is a replica of Pikk Herman and  the flag.  Now Eesti has been independent  of Soviet rule for 20 years.  Many have returned.  The generation that was forced  to leave has returned half a  century later to retire in their  homeland, and many of those who  died elsewhere have asked that  their ashes be scattered here.  Some have given back.  Olga Ritso, an Estonian-American  physician living in Redmond,  Washington, started the  Kistler-Ritso Foundation and  funded the creation of the  occupation museum, which serves  as a reminder of the past and  educates visitors about the  occupation. 

 Newer generations have become  leaders in Estonia.  The current president, Toomas  Ilves, grew up in New Jersey and  attended Columbia.  Estonian artists who spent a  lifetime and built careers in  other countries have decided to  bring their life's work back  home and establish an archive in  their true homeland.  --, best known for illustrating  "Pippi Longstocking," had fled  to Sweden at 14 and established  herself there as an illustrator  of children's books.  Now she has come back to Estonia  to create her archive in her  native land.  Arvo Part, recognized as one of  the leading composers of our  time, spent years abroad.  Now, with the help of his son,  he is establishing his archive  in Estonia to house his  manuscripts, along with an  international research center  for musicians.  What a wonderful precedent.  This is the treasure of Estonia.  Song festivals have remained  central to Estonian identity. 

 As Martna has noted, song  festivals played an important  part in maintaining hope of  freedom before the first  independence, and they have  continued to forge a patriotic  bond between the people of  Estonia.  They were instrumental in the  struggle to end Soviet  occupation, beautifully  documented in the movie  "The Singing Revolution," and  song festivals continue to be  held every four years and  essentially bring the entire  country together in a moving  celebration of nationhood and  liberty.  Estonians love their land and  this is echoed in people's  names.  Many Estonian people's names  reference nature.  Ilves means "lakes," as in  President Ilves.  Meri means "sea," as in  President Lennart Meri.  Vesilind means "water bird" or  "seagull," as in Priit Vesilind.  Jarvi means "of the lake," as in  Neeme Jarvi, the conductor.  And Kivisild means "stone  bridge," as in my maiden name.  Many Estonian place names are  affectionately based on physical  qualities. 

 "Pikk Jalg" means long leg, the  long road, and "Luhike Jalg"  means short leg, the shortcut.  Paks Margareeta is "Fat  Margaret," stout tower, and  "Muna Magi" is egg mountain, the  tallest mountain in Eesti at  only 312 meters above sea level.  (laughter)  Estonians identify with the land  and understand it.  Estonians are practical  and problem solvers.  Many Estonians are engineers.  This seems logical as survival  in this cold climate and harsh  land required ingenuity and  adaptation.  The geography and climate  presented specific issues to the  inhabitants and had specific  repercussions in the history of  Estonia.  Estonia is on the Baltic Sea, so  water and ice are part of the  Estonian story.  Ice is a familiar sight  throughout the winter and an  integral part of daily life.  And large areas of the  countryside are covered in turf  bogs, which are impassible and  treacherous in the summer. 

 But in winter, the bogs are  frozen, and strong enough to  allow travel on the surface.  Trips between villages were much  shorter in winter over the  frozen bogs, and Estonians had a  long tradition of dealing with  the reality of ice and using it  structurally.  My father, the quintessential  Estonian, was a civil engineer.  Although his life's work was in  Canada, he had spent his  childhood on the shores of the  Baltic and knew ice intuitively.  He developed the idea of ice as  a structural material and  established quantifiable  structural properties for ice.  He could then design manmade ice  islands in the Arctic and  understand how to design bridges  strong enough to withstand icy  waters.  The ice terminology he developed  was adopted by the UN for  worldwide use.  Understanding the power of ice  and the impact on shipping,  Estonians were fully aware of  the importance of Paldiski.  It is the only ice-free port in  the northern end of the Baltic  Sea and part of the precious  land Estonians claim as theirs.  This has been the cause of many  wars and has made Estonia a  desirable prize for bigger  landlocked neighbors. 

 Estonia is also known as  E-dot-stonia.  Estonians adopted computer  technology, skipping steps in  industrial development that  other countries could not avoid.  Being isolated from the west for  half a century had a benefit in  that computer technology was  just gaining acceptance when  Estonia became free.  This was the perfect way that a  tiny country could be an equal  to other nations, other larger  nations.  Estonians embraced the internet  culture with open arms.  Estonia is one of the most wired  countries in the world.  Nearly everyone in Estonia  conducts banking and other daily  activities online.  Estonian engineers invented  Skype, the parliament is run  entirely on computers, and now  even voting can be done on a  cell phone.  Estonia is aware of the need to  defend itself.  It is experienced with cyber  war. 

 In 2007, the Estonian government  decided to relocate to the  military cemetery the bronze  statue of a Red Army soldier  located in the center of  Tallinn.  While the relocation was taking  place, major shops and  businesses in the capital were  physically attacked by busloads  of thugs throwing bricks, and  the country's computer networks  were mysteriously attacked as  well.  The effort was meant to create  chaos and disable the government  and the communication system.  Estonian computer scientists  were able to track down the  source of the cyber attacks to  Moscow.  I was in Estonia when this  happened, it was my birthday,  and proud of the Estonians that  they traced the source so  quickly, ended up only slightly  bruised, and completed the  relocation task, fixing the  damage to the capital in the  same day.  They were undeterred.  It was the world's first known  example of cyber warfare, and  now Tallinn houses the NATO  Cooperative Cyber Defense Center  of Excellence.  Estonians believe that wars in  the future will have an IT  component and intend to be  prepared to deal with the  threat.  Estonia's global leadership role  in cyber defense is evidenced by  the fact that the International  Conference on Cyber Conflict was  held in Tallinn just two weeks  ago, attended by 39 countries,  including the United States.  Estonians have had to look out  for themselves. 

 When Estonia became independent  in 1991, as it shed the  occupiers' fourth centralized  economy, it had the opportunity  to shape its own financial  future.  In a bold move, the young prime  minister, Mart Laar, introduced  a flat tax of 25% for both  individuals and corporations.  He had read about the western  theory of the flat tax and had  the courage to adopt this  concept that other established  nations could not because of  political opposition.  The flat tax has helped to  attract foreign investment and  as a result, many businesses  have located here.  Estonians are frugal and even  though times were good, they  saved money and created  reserves.  The Estonian economy has  weathered the global crisis  well, as evidenced by being  accepted into the Euro zone.  On June 17th, Europe's 27  governments hailed Estonia's  sound economic and financial  policies.  The New York Times stated that,  "while the Estonian economy is  tiny, now the country's central  bank governor, Andres Lipstok,  will now be able to take a seat  on the European Bank's powerful  council."  Membership is recognition of  the hard work and sacrifice it  took to keep Estonia's bid on  track.  Martna was right to believe that  Estonia would survive.  Now Estonia is part of NATO and  the EU, integrated into the  west. 

 Estonia is an ancient soul,  deeply rooted in its land, in  nature and song.  And it is one of the most  technologically advanced, wired  nations in the world.  These 1.3 million people  are proudly different  from their neighbors,  while now also equal to them.  The saga of Estonian freedom  continues, and side by side with  politics is the continued  evolution of Estonian culture  and reaffirmation of its  identity.  In 2011, Tallinn will be the  cultural capital of Europe.  The theme will be "stories."  Stories of singing together  and remembering that through  singing, the nation won its  freedom.  The story of Tallinn as a city  where time has never stopped.  And stories of a city where the  internet has been declared a  human right, and where the  country witnessed the world's  first cyber war.  One of the events to highlight  the celebrations is the  Fire Project.  In August of 2011, the Cultural  Media Collaborative, based in  New York, in association with  Neeme Jarvi, is producing the  final act of Richard Wagner's  "The Twilight of the Gods" from  the "The Ring of the Nibelung."  This will consist of a live  concert with Neeme Jarvi  conducting the Estonian National  Symphony in Pirita, a ruin of a  medieval convent, accompanied by  synchronized film projections,  using fountains, underwater  photography, rings of fire, and  a galaxy of pyrotechnic designs. 

 The visual material is  commissioned from Estonian  environmental performance artist  -- to be shot on location at his  farm in --, Estonia.  What a wonderful way to  communicate the musicality and  artistry of a nation, combined  with a love of nature and modern  recording and digital  techniques.  To me this represents the  passions and spirit of this  nation and symbolizes why  Estonia continues to exist.  Thank you.  (applause)