In Tartu the border with Russia is not an abstract concept. According to the Financial Times, Estonia is moving its main brigade closer to the border as part of a new ‘active defence’ strategy, whilst Tallinn accuses Moscow of waging a campaign of sabotage against the European defence industry.
We discuss this with Stefano Braghiroli, associate professor of European Studies at the University of Tartu and director of the Master’s programme in ‘European Studies’, to understand how Estonia and the Baltic states are responding, what the real risks are, and what links this small country to Taiwan.

Guido Gargiulo — You are Italian and have been living and working in Estonia since 2012: you are currently an associate professor of European Studies at the Johan Skytte Institute of Political Studies at the University of Tartu, where you direct the Master’s programme in European Studies. How did you end up there? And what does it mean, for a scholar of EU-Russia relations, to live and work so close to Russia at such a tense time?

Stefano Braghiroli — It all began whilst I was studying for my PhD in Comparative and European Politics in Siena, focusing on comparative politics and the European Union’s external relations, particularly with Turkey — at a time when the debate over its accession was still raging — and with Russia.

Fourteen years ago, I was awarded a scholarship administered by the Estonian Research Council to study at the Centre for EU-Russia Studies in Tartu. I found an academic environment of the very highest standard, highly internationalised and amongst the most dynamic in the Nordic-Baltic region, characterised by an open organisational structure that fosters academic growth and by direct, in-depth expertise on the post-Soviet space and the geopolitical dynamics between Russia and the European Union.

The added value of studying Russian dynamics from a country such as Estonia lies, first and foremost, in its geopolitical proximity: to use a metaphor, here you open the window in the morning and can almost see Russia on the other side.
This proximity allows for a thorough understanding of Moscow’s strategic threats and decision-making processes, but with one major advantage: observing the country at close quarters without having to pay the price of being physically in Russia.

The second key point is that being in Estonia helps to de-imperialise Russia, by dismantling its narrative and understanding the extent to which Moscow’s political discourse is rooted in imperial history and practice.

Furthermore, living here means coming into direct contact with the experiences – individual, family and national – of the countries of the ‘Eastern flank’.
This is what enables us to understand why Estonia and its neighbours believe that the correct way to deal with Moscow is notappeasement or dialogue at any cost, but firmness. What, from a Western or Mediterranean perspective – such as Italy’s – may sometimes seem like a rigid or risky approach in terms of escalation, here represents a reality dictated by history: the only path that Russia recognises and respects.

Guido Gargiulo — Estonia has adopted a policy of ‘active defence’: according to the Financial Times, the First Brigade is moving to Jõhvi and a new base is under construction in Narva, whilst defence spending in 2026 is set to reach 5.4 per cent of GDP. What message does this send to Moscow, given the Estonian intelligence services’ fears of a limited provocation designed to test Article 5?

Stefano Braghiroli — The message coming out of Estonia is twofold and is directed simultaneously at Moscow and the Western allies.

As regards Russia, the position is clear: Estonia is aware of the risks it faces. It recognises Moscow as a long-term, rather than a temporary, threat. It is mindful of the fact that, at present, the only real bulwark against Russian imperialism is Ukrainian resistance.
At the same time, is it possible that Russia — finding itself in a stalemate in Ukraine — might attempt a small-scale provocation to divert attention from the Ukrainian front. Thus, Russia would hope to divide the allies and present NATO with a dilemma.

The real danger today is not a large-scale conflict. Russia does not have the resources to sustain one, and it knows that a direct war with NATO would lead to its defeat, aside from have devastating consequences for humanity.
The most plausible scenario, however, is a limited provocation. For instance, the appearance of a hundred‘little green men’ on an island in Lake Peipsi or in a border town such as Narva or Värska.

However, this is a type of threat that Estonia is perfectly capable of handling on its own.

Furthermore, as part of NATO’sEnhanced Forward Presence, allied troops – mainly British and French – are stationed on Estonian territory. Any Russian action at the border would inevitably end up involving the forces from Paris and London as well, triggering an escalation that Moscow wishes to avoid.

The second message is directed at Western allies, in particular those most actively involved in supporting Ukraine and defending the ‘eastern flank’. If one is to demand solidarity and security guarantees, one must demonstrate their commitment through concrete actions.

This is why Estonia spends a significantly higher proportion of its GDP on defence than the average for Western countries. It is a clear and pragmatic message to our partners: “We are playing our part to the full, we are showing the utmost determination, so we expect you to do the same”.

Guido Gargiulo — How are Estonia and the other Baltic states positioning themselves with regard to support for Ukraine and their stance towards Russia? Are they truly united? Do their views carry weight in Brussels? Or are there still nuances between Tallinn, Riga and Vilnius?

Stefano Braghiroli — There is substantial consensus amongst Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania on the central importance of supporting Ukraine — a view widely shared by Finland as well.
These countries deeply believe that Kyiv is fighting not only for its own sovereignty, but for the security and freedom of the whole of Europe.

Ukraine is seen, to all intents and purposes, as the continent’s first line of defence.

The political clout of the Baltic voice in Brussels has grown exponentially. Before the large-scale invasion of 2022, the three countries were regarded just as role-models of democratic transition and the success of EU enlargement.

However, their stance on the Russian issue was regularly downplayed.

There were two main reasons for this.

1) The dogma of dialogue and the market: the belief, overwhelming in Western Europe, that diplomatic channels with Moscow should be kept open at all costs and that trade relations could ease political tensions.

2) The perception of a ‘historical trauma’: Westerners often dismissed the Baltic experience of Soviet occupation and deportations as a sort of national post-traumatic stress syndrome. A painful historical legacy, yet not relevant to the Union’s overall strategic vision.

The events of 2022 proved this approach wrong, prompting several European leaders to publicly admit that they should have heeded the warnings issued by Tallinn, Riga and Vilnius sooner.

Although Western Europe has moved considerably closer to the positions of the ‘Eastern flank’, a fundamental difference remains regarding the long-term management of Russia.
From the perspective of the Baltic states, Poland and Finland, the only language Moscow understands is that of firmness, strength and credible deterrence.
From the perspective of some in Western Europe, there remains a fear that excessive pressure could put Russia’s back against the wall, triggering an uncontrollable escalation.

Guido Gargiulo — Tallinn accuses Moscow of a campaign of sabotage, ranging from the fire at Milrem to the recruitment of civilians by the Russian security services. How real is the threat, including cyberattacks? Does it make sense, as Minister Tsahkna argues, to stop calling it ‘hybrid’ and start referring to it plainly as war?

Stefano Braghiroli — The threat of hybrid attacks in Europe is real, tangible and widespread at all levels. From cases of sabotage at ammunition depots to cyber-attacks on supply chains or critical infrastructure, right through to drones in European airspace and damage to undersea cables, the range of provocations attributed to Moscow is vast.

It seems obvious that such incidents will increase in frequency and intensity. The real strategic problem lies in the intrinsic characteristics of the hybrid threat.

The timeframe for attribution: a period of time elapses between the moment an event occurs and the moment sufficient certainty is established to officially attribute it to a state actor, creating a window of uncertainty.

The credibility of deterrence: if the victim does not respond firmly to initial provocations — for example, by immediately shooting down drones that violate airspace — the lack of a response encourages further attacks of ever-increasing severity.

To break this cycle, we need to find a way of responding that does not turn the hybrid operation into an open military conflict, whilst at the same time sending an unequivocal message to Moscow.

Our response need not necessarily be a mirror response or a kinetic one. When faced with an act of sabotage or hybrid interference, Western states should rather react by imposing immediate and punitive political and economic retaliatory measures.

For example:

Diplomatic and sanctions measures: reducing Russia’s diplomatic presence; speeding up the closure of organisations or networks of influence linked to Moscow; targeted expulsions.

Direct support for Ukraine: adoption of the principle of conditionality, whereby every hybrid act suffered in Europe is met with a tangible increase in military aid to Kyiv (such as the supply of more advanced weapons or an increase in the resources allocated to Ukraine’s defence).

Use of frozen assets: moving decisively forward with the use of Russian sovereign assets frozen in the West.

The debate over whether these actions should be termed ‘hybrid warfare’ highlights a fundamental dilemma. When an attack results in casualties or directly targets infrastructure and vessels in the territorial waters of Member States – as happened recently in Romania – the distinction between a ‘hybrid action’ and a ‘military attack’ becomes extremely blurred.

However, formally classifying an incident as an act of open warfare would force the Alliance to consider invoking Article 5 of the NATO Treaty, a complex scenario that Allied diplomats wish to avoid so as not to risk an uncontrolled escalation.

Precisely to avoid this dramatic choice, the most effective course of action remains that of proactive deterrence. We should ensure that Russia knows in advance that any further escalation of the hybrid war will result in an unsustainable political and economic cost.

Guido Gargiulo — Estonia and Taiwan are neighbours of major powers perceived as threats – Russia and China, respectively. Both are targets of cyber-attacks and disinformation. But Estonia can rely on Article 5 of the NATO Treaty, whilst Taiwan cannot. Where does the parallel between the two cases hold, and where does it break down?

Stefano Braghiroli —- There is a significant geopolitical analogy between the position of Estonia (and the Baltic states) and that of Taiwan. Although situated in different geographical and historical contexts, both can be described as ‘small states’ living in the shadow of a cumbersome and aggressive neighbour that poses their primary existential threat: Russia on the one hand, and China on the other.

Neither power makes any secret of its revisionist ambitions: whilst Beijing openly claims Taiwan as an integral part of its territory, the Kremlin’s narrative regards the Baltic states as former colonies destined, sooner or later, to return to its sphere of influence.

For a long time, the two scenarios have also had one key factor in common: the main guarantor of security – the United States of America.
For the Baltic states, this role is embedded within the framework of the North Atlantic Treaty Organisation, whilst for Taiwan it takes the form of the bilateral security architecture established under the ‘One China’ policy.
In both contexts, the uncertainty surrounding the Trump administration’s policies has raised serious concerns about the sustainability of these guarantees.

Alongside the similarities, however, there are substantial differences that affect the levels of protection.

Recognition of sovereignty: Estonia is a fully recognised state on the international stage and a member of the United Nations and NATO, which affords it legal protection and collective defence – benefits denied to Taiwan following the diplomatic shifts that began in the 1970s.

Direct defence guarantees: primary responsibility for the defence of Taiwan lies predominantly with the United States (with a limited and indirect European role), whilst the defence of Estonia falls under the automatic solidarity obligation set out in Article 5 of the NATO Treaty.

The crucial link between the Baltic and Indo-Pacific theatres lies in the value of deterrence in Ukraine. The likelihood of China attempting action against Taiwan is directly proportional to the perception of Western resolve in the face of the Russian invasion.

Helping Ukraine is incomparably easier than any potential defence of Taiwan: Kyiv has considerable strategic depth, open land borders with NATO countries for supplies, and is a sovereign state recognised by the entire international community.

If the West were to prove incapable of effectively supporting Ukraine at significantly lower costs and with far fewer logistical risks, it would appear entirely lacking in credibility in Beijing’s eyes when it claims to want to defend the status quo in Taiwan.
The Chinese leadership is closely observing the West’s hesitations and divisions regarding Moscow: any apparent weakness or indecision towards Russia ultimately encourages an increasingly assertive stance on the part of China in the Pacific.

From this perspective, the defence of Ukrainian sovereignty represents the primary and most effective means of preventive deterrence against an escalation in the Indo-Pacific.

Guido Gargiulo — Looking ahead to the coming years, what is the risk that Western Europe – and Italy in particular – underestimates the most, compared with the situation in Estonia?

Stefano Braghiroli — The primary risk for countries geographically further away from the eastern front, such as Italy, is not that of a direct invasion or the arrival of ‘the Cossacks in Rome’. The real danger lies in the collapse of the economic, political and security model that has guaranteed the continent’s prosperity and stability since the end of the Second World War.

If Ukraine were forced into a surrender that rewarded the aggressor, the Russian threat would become a permanent feature on the borders of the European Union and NATO. In such a scenario, any provocation on the ‘eastern flank’ without a firm and united response would lead to the collapse of the credibility of supranational alliances.

For Italy, the collapse of NATO and the EU would mean finding itself isolated in an aggressive, multipolar global context, reduced to a marginal geopolitical pawn and deprived of its fundamental safeguards — from the single market to the free movement under the Schengen Agreement.
Preventing such an outcome and supporting the Ukrainian resistance are therefore not a cost in themselves, but a strategic investment to avert a catastrophic scenario for our democracies.

The current historical period is characterised by periods of great vulnerability for Europe, bringing to mind Mario Draghi’s famous analysis that, for the first time in recent history, European countries find themselves ‘alone together’.

The Union finds itself caught in an unprecedented geopolitical stranglehold :

To the east, an aggressive and revisionist Russia poses a direct threat to continental security.

To the west, the United States, whose withdrawal or potential change of course risks undermining the traditional transatlantic guarantees.

Faced with a global decline in democracy — with trends reminiscent of the institutional fragility of the 1920s and 1930s — the only way for liberal democracies to survive lies in unity and in setting aside national sovereignty and self-interest.

To safeguard the rules-based international order, European integration will need to evolve towards broader forms of alliance, extending to what might be described as a ‘Europe Plus’ network.

The EU is called upon to deepen its political, economic and security cooperation with partner nations that share the same democratic and institutional values and face similar security and geopolitical pressures: the United Kingdom, Canada, Australia, New Zealand, Japan, South Korea and Taiwan.

Signs of a structural rapprochement — from the renewed debate in the United Kingdom to discussions on special partnerships between the EU, Canada and the Indo-Pacific countries — show that, in the face of common existential threats, cohesion amongst democracies will represent the true geopolitical centre of gravity in the years to come.