Estonia has done very well so far because there are so many kindhearted people around us. One is a neighbor with a knack for fixing things who goes around clearing clogged sewer pipes in the neighborhood or comes over to help stack firewood, another serves as an assistant police officer, a third spends every weekend training with the Estonian Defense League and a fourth volunteers at the local rescue station.

Of course, it is entirely possible that all these activities are undertaken by the same person, simply because they cannot sit around doing nothing.

For a volunteer, what matters is the act itself — giving society something it would otherwise lack. Even if that something is security. And internal security matters, even if greater emphasis has been placed on ensuring external security in recent years and in light of Russia's military activity.

The defense budget, artillery shells, hybrid attacks, the threat posed by drones. All of these might seem like matters of external security, but in reality they are domestic issues, too. When you insure your home, you are bound to wonder whether your policy covers damage caused by a stray drone.

Everyone in Estonia expects that if something happens to them or their home, help will already be on its way. The swift arrival of rescue workers, paramedics or police officers is taken for granted and whenever the pay of those responsible for internal security comes up again in public debate, many people are surprised to learn just how meager their incomes still are.

Of course, people can and should complain about such pay, even if doing so incurs Finance Minister Jürgen Ligi's displeasure. After all, the minister said on ETV's "Esimene stuudio" that rescue workers' salaries would rise faster than inflation, or by roughly the same amount, and that those receiving such favorable treatment should not complain. The remark quite rightly provoked a storm of indignation because complaining is just about the only thing that is still free.

Even the host had to remind the minister that rescue workers' pay is among the furthest behind and that it is difficult to make ends meet on it. Ligi nevertheless described it as a matter of choices, adding that, to put it mildly, he disliked the tone rescue workers used when asking for money.

Having listened to and read the comments made by those asking for higher pay, I see nothing behind them but concern about making ends meet. There is nothing inappropriate about their tone. I am also reminded of a telling sign from a past demonstration demanding higher pay: "Save the rescuers!" And we are still in the same situation.

Of course, there is little point in comparing Jürgen Ligi's own €7,800 salary with that of rescue workers, but the figures are worth setting out nonetheless. Among Estonia's 1,668 professional rescue workers, 112 earn the minimum salary of €1,606 a month. A rescue worker's average base salary is €1,758. In the new year, they will receive a pay increase of just under €50 a month. That will at least allow a rescue worker to afford one more basket of groceries, although the finance minister himself acknowledged that, in the worst-case scenario, wages will rise only in line with inflation and such an increase will bring no measurable improvement in quality of life.

The Rescue Board and trade unions have said that a fair level of pay for rescue workers would be 1.2 times Estonia's average salary or about €2,700 a month. Reaching that level would require an additional €25 million or so a year for the payroll budget and that calculation concerns average pay. That is, of course, a large sum and not one that can simply be taken from somebody else's budget line. As an election promise, however, it would sound impressive.

Despite their poor pay, professional rescue workers do a good job and there is no indication that water flows through their hoses any more slowly because of it. On the other hand, motivation is a complicated thing and pay an important part of it. Salary is among the first things mentioned in employee satisfaction surveys and there is probably no one whose pay clearly exceeds their expectations. In the case of rescue workers, the situation is even more prosaic: Even outsiders can see that this level of income buys only enough food to stave off starvation a little longer.

So I fear that the role of volunteers will grow even further simply because there will not be enough professionals. Estonia already has 119 volunteer rescue stations alongside 71 professional ones. This gives the country an enormous amount of additional capacity for ensuring internal security, but that capacity depends on people's free time and motivation. Nor can those 3,241 volunteer rescue workers and assistant explosive ordnance disposal specialists be expected to sit on a tree stump armed with nothing but a bucket and an ax.

For example, volunteer rescue worker Hendrik Tali wrote in Delfi that they scrape together every cent needed to keep operating. They, too, are affected by the cost of electricity and fuel because without them the lights at rescue stations do not stay on and the vehicles do not move. And when you hear that some volunteers respond to emergencies in vehicles built 50 years ago, your arms almost drop helplessly to your sides.

Volunteers — assistant police officers — also provide the police with a significant amount of additional manpower. Estonia currently has 1,300 assistant police officers who have performed a total of 111,616 hours of police work this year. Eighty-eight percent of assistant police officers are active, meaning they serve regularly. Fortunately, assistant police officers do not have to buy their own handcuffs or batons and their vehicles are somewhat more modern than those used by volunteer rescue workers.

--

Follow ERR News on Facebook and X and never miss an update!