Raul Rebane: Struggle for the past or the personality myths of Estonian elections

Attaining the role of a "father of the people" requires special circumstances, even a kind of social anomaly. Candidates appear in every country and election, but in Estonia today only Mihhail Kõlvart fits the bill, writes Raul Rebane in his Vikerraadio commentary.
A political leader is always part of one myth or another. Sometimes it happens that a politician gains extraordinary influence regardless of what promises they make to voters or what actions they take. This occurs when large groups of people believe that these individuals can lift them out of their deepest troubles at that particular moment. In Estonia, three politicians stand above the rest in this regard: Arnold Rüütel, Edgar Savisaar and Mihhail Kõlvart.
In the 1995 Riigikogu elections, Arnold Rüütel, running on the list of the Coalition Party and Rural Union (KMÜ) in Southern Estonia, achieved an excellent result with 17,189 votes. But his indirect impact — votes cast for people associated with him — was far greater. KMÜ, which included the Coalition Party, the Rural Union, the Estonian Country People's Party, the Pensioners and Families Union and the Farmers' Assembly, took 32.2 percent of the vote and 41 Riigikogu seats. These records have yet to be broken.
That victory was largely due to Arnold Rüütel. It is estimated he drew around 100,000 votes in total, only spread across other candidates' names. For example, in 1995, Juhan Aare, a Coalition Party candidate in Virumaa, received nearly 9,000 votes; in the next election, just 553. By 1999, when the Coalition Party no longer had Rüütel's image behind it, it won only seven seats in parliament and soon faded into obscurity.
The reason for Rüütel's extraordinary popularity was that he embodied hope — specifically, hope that the radical agricultural reforms of the time could somehow be undone. This put him in direct opposition to Mart Laar and Lennart Meri, both of whom were seen as destroyers of Estonian agriculture. "Rüütel wouldn't do that" was the unofficial slogan circulating among the people, and it worked powerfully.
When a person becomes a myth, nothing else matters — neither actions nor crimes. They simply get the votes. Faith in them is boundless and no scandal can shake it. (Long time Tallinn mayor and Center Party head – ed.) Edgar Savisaar was a prime example.
Savisaar was the greatest vote-getter in Estonian political history, both in local and parliamentary elections. He set records that are likely to stand. In the 2013 local elections, he received 39,979 votes in Lasnamäe, practically the same as four years earlier.
Most of his votes came from Russian-speaking voters, for whom he embodied the defender of Russian rights — or even special rights. That image became the defining legacy of his political activity over the past two decades. He fought against the European Union, delayed the transition to the Estonian language for decades and later opposed sanctions against Russia.
Looking at which countries produce these "father of the people" types of politicians who seem beyond criticism, three patterns emerge. They are either transitional countries with weak democratic traditions or states where, from time to time, there is a surge of yearning for a strong hand.
In long-established democracies, such things are rare. In Finland, for example, the last such figure was President Urho Kaleva Kekkonen 60–70 years ago. Among European countries today, the most striking example is Hungarian Prime Minister Viktor Orbán, who began as a conservative myth but has since consolidated near-total power. His case is a stark warning of how democracy soon ceases to function under such "fathers of the people." One step further are the totalitarian states with eternal rulers, such as Alexander Lukashenko in Belarus or Vladimir Putin in Russia.
The third scenario is countries where, for historical or other reasons, large groups of people live with a weak sense of connection to the local national identity. This is precisely Estonia's situation. We have a large Russian-speaking electorate that tends to vote as a bloc. Savisaar took advantage of this and today Mihhail Kõlvart serves a similar electoral-myth function.
Internationally, a comparable phenomenon was seen in Moldova's recent elections, where the Gagauzia region consistently votes differently from the majority, always in favor of Russia.
It is difficult to compete with Rüütel, Savisaar and Kõlvart because the phenomenon does not follow ordinary logic. Their voters are not swayed by the usual tricks — more benefits, bike lanes or kindergarten places. They vote instead for something else, such as the hope of regaining Russian language, schools and even tanks. As a rule, it is a fight for the past.
Achieving the position of a "father of the people" requires special conditions — a kind of social anomaly. The role is highly tempting. In every country and every election, candidates emerge for it. We see them here as well, but apart from Kõlvart, the rest do not qualify. And Kõlvart himself would not qualify under different circumstances.
Let us hope that time — and dull, steady democracy — ultimately provides the right answer.
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Editor: Marcus Turovski










