Erik Gamzejev: Center Party owes it to Estonia to solve language training deadlock

The Center Party now needs to repay an old debt — one stemming from the fact that for 30 years, it has failed to prioritize Estonian language instruction in the municipal schools of the cities it governs, writes Erik Gamzejev in a commentary for Vikerraadio.
It would be good to see the Center Party, which performed well in recent elections in Tallinn and cities in Ida-Viru County, pay off an old debt and finally break the deadlock over teaching Estonian in schools. Just as their campaign slogan and program title promised.
Why is this an old debt for the Center Party? Because the most serious problems with Estonian language proficiency are found in those cities where the party has long held power. The schools in these cities, whose graduates often have poor or even no command of Estonian, have been municipal schools.
For nearly 30 years, Center Party-led city governments have had the opportunity to ensure that students graduating from their schools could communicate fluently in Estonian and, thanks to proficiency in the national language, enjoy broader opportunities in the Estonian labor market. But for the most part, they have failed to do so.
One consequence of this is that the Estonian Defense Forces is planning to reject conscripts with poor Estonian skills. For decades, the military has done commendable work teaching Estonian to Russian-speaking young people. But in essence, this remedial instruction has simply patched over the persistent negligence of municipal schools. In a normal situation, schools would teach Estonian and other core subjects, while the Defense Forces would focus on skills necessary for defending the country.
Many students finish basic school (grades 1–9) with language skills so poor that high school is not an option. Up to now, vocational school has still been a possibility, but even that door is beginning to close, as the Ida-Viru County Vocational Education Center plans to switch entirely to instruction in Estonian. Yet vocational schools are meant to teach trades — not the Estonian language. That work is supposed to be done over nine years in basic school.
At first glance, transitioning to Estonian-language instruction at the Ida-Viru County Vocational Education Center may seem like mission impossible. With enough political will, it's possible to replace teachers with insufficient Estonian skills and this has largely already been done in recent years. But how do you "replace" students who have supposedly studied Estonian for nine years, yet whose results are close to zero?
Many teachers can attest to this: standing in front of a classroom and realizing that the majority of students don't understand a word being said in Estonian. Or take, for example, those who visited the vocational center last week on Citizenship Day to talk to students about their lives and experiences. When a hall full of listeners can't even understand the question, "Which city are you from?" there's little hope for them answering more complex questions like, "What are your ideas for improving the lives of local youth?"
Experiences like these are both disheartening and baffling. Isn't it a waste of time and money, leading eventually to a total loss of motivation for both students and teachers, when lessons are conducted entirely in Estonian, but most of the class can't understand anything? To be cynical, a teacher in such a classroom might as well say anything at all — no one would understand it anyway.
So the real question is: should this situation continue for years or even decades longer? Since Estonia regained independence, multiple generations of residents from Russian-speaking families have grown up here without ever learning Estonian.
If the answer is no, then it must be the Center Party — still the most authoritative political force among Estonia's Russian-speaking voters — that sends a clear message: the old way of handling Estonian-language instruction is no longer acceptable. And finger-pointing at the state for supposedly not providing enough attention, teachers, methodology or language immersion opportunities will no longer suffice. For the Center Party, it should be a point of honor to ensure that graduates of municipal schools have a solid command of Estonian.
Of course, this also requires cooperation with the Ministry of Education and other state institutions. Likewise, vocational schools must begin intensive remedial language programs, which until now have partly been the responsibility of the Defense Forces. This will require additional funding, personnel and effort. But what better alternatives are there?
Undoubtedly, there are people in Estonia who believe that if someone doesn't want to learn Estonian, that's their own fault and that the state shouldn't waste public funds trying to persuade or coddle them.
However, it would not be in Estonia's national security interest to continue producing thousands of new adults each year who, due to a lack of language skills, have no place in society. They would be easy prey for the criminal underworld or for Russian efforts to conduct hostile activities in Estonia. They would also become an additional burden on the social welfare system.
Knowing Estonian doesn't automatically make someone pro-Estonian, but it is an important bridge toward that goal. It can also spark an interest in Estonian culture and history and foster an emotional connection with the country.
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Editor: Marcus Turovski










