Baltic Roundup | January 2026
Reflecting on the 1991 demonstrations and the latest from the region
Dear readers,
We are testing out new formats for the Roundup in the new year. For January, I’d like to start with a reflection on the 1991 events in the Baltic states, written from Minneapolis today.
This month marks 35 years since the January Events in Lithuania and the Barricades in Latvia in 1991 — a period of acute tension following the Baltic declarations of renewed independence from the USSR in 1990.
In Vilnius, a series of confrontations between Soviet troops and Lithuanian civilians culminated in an attempt by the Soviet military to disrupt communications and seize the television tower in the early hours of January 13. Thousands of unarmed protesters rushed to defend it. Tanks encircled the tower, firing blanks and live rounds, and driving into the crowd. Thirteen Lithuanians were killed, as was one Soviet soldier, hit by friendly fire. Hundreds were injured. TV and radio stations went off the air. Soviet propaganda broadcast lies that the victims were themselves the aggressors, using tear gas and weapons against the people.
Lithuanians did not surrender. By the morning, tens of thousands of independence supporters had gathered in Independence Square around the parliamentary building, constructing anti-tank fortifications and setting up defenses inside. They met the military with song, prayer, and peaceful protest. The Soviet siege eventually abated, but defenders remained for some time.
In 2008, Vytautas Landsbergis, a musicologist and Speaker of the Seimas after Lithuania’s independence declaration, reflected on the confrontation of “two worlds.”
“One of them comprised the tens of thousands of Lithuanian citizens who had gathered that evening. They had not known one another beforehand, but they stood together, united by love, facing another world. That other world was made up of foreign soldiers, standing sullen in serried rows, looking down in cold hatred, their eyes filled with contempt.…
There was also another cry from the crowd, which asked the aggressors: ‘Fascists, what are you doing?’ … The label ‘fascist’ forced the Soviet soldiers to see themselves as in a mirror, while the reproach, ‘What are you doing?’ invited them to come to reason, as human beings among human beings, men with fellow men.”
Within hours of the attack at the Vilnius TV tower, the Latvian Popular Front broadcast a call drawing hundreds of thousands to demonstrate in solidarity and to construct fortifications around important government and press buildings in Riga and elsewhere. Earlier in the month, Soviet forces had seized the Press House. The population was already on edge. Tens of thousands of individuals from all walks of life arrived to defend the barricades for nearly two weeks in the January cold.
“The Barricades was an event supported by the majority of the population of Latvia,” noted Kaspars Zaltāns in a reflection. “…behind every person guarding a site of national importance stand a couple more supporters providing food, transport, somewhere to rest, and more.” Lithuanians were doing the same.
In Nonviolent Action in the Liberation of Latvia, Olģerts Eglītis writes,
“...the ‘black berets’ [Soviet OMON forces, military special police] went on terrorizing the people. In some places, they attacked those keeping guard at the barricades, beat and humiliated them, burned down vehicles used for blocking roads and shot over people’s heads or directly at them. As a result of the shooting, one person, a car driver named Roberts Murnieks, died on January 16 from a bullet wound in his head. The ‘black berets’ also captured five unarmed members of a public order squad and detained them for days, severely beating and torturing them. The aim of these criminal activities was apparently to scare the defenders and to provoke Latvia’s still loyal police units to engage in reciprocal armed fighting which could then be used as an excuse for army intervention. At a news conference on January 18, the notorious Soviet Colonel Viktors Alksnis in fact acknowledged this, saying that if the ‘black berets’ were attacked, the army would step in to defend them.” (p. 34-35)
The violent culmination in Riga occurred on January 20, when Soviet forces attacked the Latvian Interior Ministry, fatally wounding five people and injuring more. The Soviet attempt ultimately collapsed, and following the funerals of the victims some days later, the vast network of civilian defenders was able to leave their posts.
Estonia’s moment came in August of 1991, after declaring formal independence and during the coup in Moscow. As Soviet tanks advanced through the country and troops prepared to interrupt communication networks, volunteers came out to defend the TV tower and protect strategically important buildings in Tallinn — Toompea Hill, home to the parliament, and Estonian Public Broadcasting. In Latvia and Lithuania, too, people took up their positions at the barricades again.
The flow of information was of paramount importance. Radio communication and the presence of foreign press played a critical role, both for organizing defenders and ensuring the world saw what was happening. “A free press and the truth were our strongest power alongside the thousands of people on guard at the Barricades,” recalled Dainis Īvans, who led the Latvian Popular Front and served as Deputy Chairman of the Supreme Council during the restoration of independence. It is also a point of personal connection — my father, Rolfs Ekmanis, directed the Latvian Service of Radio Free Europe during this time, coordinating with journalists in Riga and internationally to fact-check and broadcast the events happening on the ground.
January 1991 did not come as a surprise to the people. Just a month before, in December 1990, the Latvian Popular Front had published “Instructions for X-hour,” which prepared the public for the eventuality of Soviet aggression in response to the independence movement. “The primary idea was that all protest must be non-violent and that everything must be documented with photos and videos so there would be evidence to counter possible Kremlin propaganda,” noted Zaltāns.
Indeed, the photos and videos of these moments remain profound. As he lay dying, Andris Slapiņš, a filmmaker shot while behind the camera in Riga on January 20, asked his colleague, Juris Podnieks, to film his death. Images and stories captured the attention of press and people across the world.
In his book, The Power of Song, Guntis Šmidchens writes, “From 1990 to 1991, a potential for violent resistance loomed large.” (314) But it was nonviolent action, bolstered by community and collective song, that prevailed in the face of armed soldiers and solidified the moniker of the movement for Baltic restoration of independence as The Singing Revolution. Šmidchens later continues:
“In 1991, individual courage, multiplied by the thousands, motivated thousands of people standing on the barricades in Lithuania, Latvia, and Estonia, unarmed, each of them preparing to receive their Soviet adversary’s violence, and hoping to awaken their attackers’ conscience. The leaders of the independence movements depended on this show of strength, the ‘people power’ that stood around them, one by one. Without these thousands of brave individuals blocking the path of Soviet tanks and guns (under the watchful gaze of journalists from around the world), military action could have been swift and efficient. A mere several hundred parliamentary leaders could have been easily removed or coopted, and Soviet order reinstated.” (p. 325)
The January Events and the Barricades were a critical time when the democratic future of these societies hung in the balance.
To reflect on the 35th anniversary of these moments in the Baltic countries while in Minneapolis today, it is impossible to ignore the echoes of history. Again, the power of collective action, local communication networks, video evidence to refute unsubstantiated government narratives — and even song — have proven powerful mechanisms in the face of an armed force turned against civilians. Again, for me, there is a point of personal connection. Not only to the city, but to Alex Pretti, the man most recently killed in the street by government agents while his and other cameras rolled. Again, international journalists and audiences have their eyes trained on these January events and the defenders standing resolutely in the cold.
And again, the fate of a democratic country may hang in the balance.
Now, a look back at the headlines in the Baltic states from January.
Foreign Affairs
The Baltic states tread lightly following US military action to remove Venezuelan President Nicholas Maduro, stressing their non-recognition of the Maduro regime.
The reaction to the attempted US takeover of Greenland met with more coordinated pushback among European allies, as the Baltic states signaled support for Denmark.
How the Nordic-Baltic states became Europe’s reliable security engine.
Toomas Hendrik Ilves: Europe must stop pretending “everything is fine” with the US.
Latvia took up its seat as a temporary member of the United Nations Security Council. A priority will be support for Ukraine.
Irregular migration from Belarus via Latvia to Lithuania more than doubled in 2025. Lithuanian lorries remain stranded across the border, and Belarusian opposition leader Sviatlana Tsikhanouskaya will relocate from Lithuania to Poland.
Defense & Security
Estonia signed a €290 million contract for South Korean-made self-propelled multiple launch rocket systems. Lithuania ordered additional Bolide missiles from Sweden’s Saab in a $326M deal. Latvia plans to purchase Sweden’s ‘Archer’ howitzers.
The first munitions plant in nearly a century opened in Estonia, while Latvia began construction of a munitions factory in Iecava.
Latvia and Sweden announced their intention to expand defense cooperation. The Center for Geopolitical Studies Riga analyzed defense industry development policies in Latvia and Finland.
In 2027, the Estonian Defense Forces will extend the length of conscription to 12 months. They expect to call up 4,100 conscripts. A record 1,560 volunteers signed up for Latvia’s July 2026 military draft.
Disgraced Saeima deputy Jānis Ādamsons was sentenced again to 8 years for spying for Russia, while pro-Kremlin activist Aleksandrs Gapoņenko was handed 10 years in prison for actions against the state and inciting national hatred.
Domestic Affairs, Economy, Infrastructure
Lithuanian public broadcaster staff launched a week-long protest after the Seimas froze the budget. The European Parliament condemned the ‘attempted takeover’ of LRT.
Tartu and Riga have been reconnected by train, but Rail Baltica is likely to be years delayed.
Vilnius-based Cast AI became Lithuania’s fifth “unicorn,” crossing a $1 billion valuation, while Latvia set a record of more than €1 billion in foreign direct investments in 2025.
LRT shared nine key changes coming into effect in Lithuania in 2026.
Poland, Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania will receive €112 million in EU investment to align their infrastructure.
Culture
Maestro Raimonds Pauls was fêted on his 90th birthday.
A number of political and cultural luminaries died in January, including Estonian dissident Mart-Olav Niklus, Latvia’s “first gentleman” Imants Freibergs, Latvian author Nora Ikstena, and FIBA Hall of Fame member Uljana Semjonova.
Aitäh, paldies and ačiū,
Indra Ekmanis
Baltic Bulletin Editor