The Evolving Meaning of the “Baltic” Countries

In other words, “Baltic” once included Finland as the fourth member, not just the three we think of today. Indeed, prior to World War II Finland was often counted as one of the four Baltic states. A country that wasn't grouped together with the powerful kingdoms of Scandinavia while also sharing independence movements similar to Estonia and other Baltic nations from Russian overlords. Only after WWII did the term Baltic states narrow to mean specifically the three smaller nations that were occupied and annexed by the Soviet Union (Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania), excluding Finland. This shift reflected Finland’s very different fate – it remained independent and gradually oriented itself toward the Nordic community (yet still not considered Scandinavian), while the other three were subsumed into the USSR.

It’s worth noting that “Baltic” as a concept has always been somewhat fluid. Historically, the word Baltic comes from the Baltic Sea (which in turn may derive from terms meaning “white” or from the name of the sea’s narrow Belts, depending on the theory). Centuries ago, “the Baltic lands” could mean anywhere around the Baltic Sea, including even Sweden or Prussia. Over time, especially by the 19th century, the Russian Empire used “Pribaltika” (Baltic) to chiefly refer to its Ostsee (East Sea) provinces – roughly what is now Estonia and Latvia. Finland, though also on the Baltic Sea, was governed as a separate Grand Duchy and not lumped under the term “Baltic provinces” by the Russians. But when all these countries became independent after 1918, outsiders naturally grouped the four together as a regional set of Baltic Sea republics. The catastrophe of WWII and the Cold War then removed Finland from that grouping in common usage. Thus, the “Baltic countries” as understood today – just the three ex-Soviet republics – is a relatively recent and politicized definition.

Finland’s Shift: From Baltic to Nordic

Finland’s case is especially fascinating. In the early 20th century, Finland had much in common with Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania: all were new democracies that had broken away from the Russian Empire and were struggling to secure their place in the world. Between the wars, one could speak of four Baltic states, Finland included. However, Finland increasingly gravitated toward the Nordic sphere. Culturally and historically Finland had deep ties with Scandinavia – it had been part of the Swedish kingdom for centuries (similar to Estonia and Livonia, but in a slightly more autonomous wayss), and even after independence Finnish elites looked westward to Sweden for alignment. A contemporary observer in 1938 noted that due to its geography and past, “Finland is often considered part of the Scandinavian bloc”. In practice, Finland cultivated closer relations with Sweden and other Nordic countries, and did not participate in specifically “Baltic” political initiatives as eagerly as Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania did. This divergence became permanent after WWII. Finland avoided Soviet occupation (at great cost, fighting the Winter War), and by the Cold War era it pursued a neutral, West-facing path distinct from its southern and even western neighbors.

After the war, Scandinavia and the Nordic identity offered Finland a new “club” to belong to. “Scandinavia” in the strict sense refers to Norway, Sweden, and Denmark – the three kingdoms sharing Germanic languages and intertwined histories. Finland, with its Uralic language and separate history, is not geographically part of the Scandinavian Peninsula, so traditionally it wasn’t counted as Scandinavia. However, Finland is very much part of the broader Nordic family (known as Norden), which includes the Scandinavian countries plus Finland, Iceland, and associated territories. In 1955 Finland joined the Nordic Council, solidifying its identity as a Nordic rather than Baltic nation. This also in part because of the iron curtain separating nations that used to share much in the past. Over decades, Finns embraced this Nordic branding, highlighting their high living standards and political kinship with Sweden, Norway, Denmark and Iceland, as opposed to any notion of being “Eastern” or “Baltic.” In short, Finland “switched” from Baltic to Nordic in the world’s eyes, leaving Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania on their own in the Baltic category. One outcome is that since WWII we talk about “the three Baltic states” and separately “the five Nordic countries,” with Finland firmly in the latter camp and no longer described as Baltic.

This shift had real effects. For example, during the Cold War, Finland (neutral and Nordic) had to tread cautiously in supporting the occupied Baltic peoples. When Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania began seeking independence from the USSR in 1990, Finland – wary of Moscow – was initially guarded, despite its sympathy. And as we've discussed before, Finland was a key player in helping Estonians gain independence, though, not openly but by finding humanitarian and private ways to support the cause and maintain political neutrality. A Finnish ambassador explained their position by noting Finland’s unique historical tightrope: “We don’t see that going at the throat of a superpower is in our self-interest”, he said regarding Finland’s cautious support for Baltic independence. He also gently pointed out that Finland had gained independence gradually (first autonomy, then full sovereignty) and suggested the Baltic republics might do the same. In essence, Finland by then saw itself as a Nordic country advising its southern Baltic cousins almost as an outsider. Before WWII they had been in the same boat; after WWII, Finland was in a different boat. Today, no one calls Finland a Baltic state – that term is reserved for Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania.

Why Some Bristle at the “Baltic” Label

Interestingly, not everyone is happy with the term “Baltic states” or what it implies. Over the decades, Baltic leaders and citizens have expressed ambivalence about the label, seeing it as an external construct that lumps together three quite distinct nations. Former Estonian President Toomas Hendrik Ilves captured this sentiment in a famous 1999 speech: “Most, if not all, people outside Estonia talk about something called ‘The Baltics’,” Ilves observed. “I think it is time to do away with poorly fitting, externally imposed categories. We are dealing with three very different countries in the Baltic area, with completely different affinities. There is no Baltic identity with a common culture, language group, or religious tradition.”. His point was that Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania do not share a single unified heritage – Estonia, for instance, speaks a Finnic language unrelated to the Indo-European tongues of Latvia and Lithuania, and Lithuania is largely Catholic while Estonia and Latvia have Protestant heritage. The “Baltic” grouping was largely a geopolitical convenience (and indeed a Soviet administrative grouping during the occupation).

Especially in Estonia, there has been a strong desire to distance the country from the “Baltic” trope and redefine it as a Nordic or Northern European country. Estonians argue they have more cultural kinship with Finland (a Nordic country) than with, say, Lithuania. They often emphasize their Finno-Ugric language connection to Finland and point out that Soviet rule was a historical anomaly that severed them from Western development for 50 years. Since regaining independence in 1991, Estonia’s leaders have consciously branded the country as a tech-savvy, Nordic-style nation. In fact, an opinion poll in 2013 found over half of young Estonians considered their identity to be “Nordic” rather than Baltic. And symbolically, Estonia even applied Nordic cultural tropes – for example, there was a serious proposal in 1919 to change Estonia’s national flag to a Nordic-style cross (similar to Sweden’s or Finland’s flags) instead of the familiar blue-black-white tricolor.

While the flag change didn’t happen, the idea shows Estonia’s sense of belonging to the Nordic world. Even today, some Estonians playfully call their country “Eesti, the Nordic country that got left out”, reflecting a bit of envy that Finland is seen as Nordic while Estonia is often stuck with the post-Soviet “Baltic” tag.

Beyond cultural feelings, there are also negative political connotations to “Baltic.” For many, it immediately brings to mind the Soviet occupation and the struggles of post-communist transition. Baltic scholars note that the region’s common identity has been “based on security concerns against Russia and Soviet legacies” – in other words, what unites Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania is largely the shared trauma of being invaded by larger powers. Understandably, these countries prefer not to be defined solely by that past. As a result, their leaders sometimes engage in what researchers call “identity escapism” – trying to escape the Baltic/post-Soviet pigeonhole. All three have at times marketed themselves as part of more prosperous, positive-sounding regions like “Nordic Europe”. There has been some success: in 2017, the United Nations Statistics Division quietly reclassified Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania under the Northern Europe grouping (alongside Scandinavia), rather than Eastern Europe, which Baltic politicians welcomed.

And regionally, the three Baltic states today cooperate so closely with the five Nordic countries that diplomats speak of a “Nordic-Baltic Eight (NB8)” format – essentially a quasi-block of eight Northern European countries. As one journalist quipped, Baltoscandia (a mashup term for a Nordic-Baltic union) is like a geopolitical ghost that lives on under the alias “NB8”. The bottom line is that “Baltic” can carry baggage, and its meaning is evolving as these nations assert their individual identities.

Dreams of Baltic Unity and Federation

Beyond terminology, a dramatic aspect of Baltic history is the recurring dream of unity among these small nations – a dream that has never fully come true, yet never completely died. Throughout the 20th century, there were numerous attempts to create a Baltic unified country or federation, in various configurations.

One early idea (during World War I and its aftermath) was the notion of merging Latvia and Lithuania into a single state. These two “Baltic” peoples share related Indo-European languages and were seen by some intellectuals as natural partners. As early as the late 19th century, Lithuanian activists like Jonas Šliūpas envisioned a “Lithuanian-Latvian Republic” (sometimes dubbed “Lietuvis-Lettonia” or similar). During WWI, Lithuanian and Latvian expatriates in the U.S. and Western Europe actually lobbied for a joint state for the “Letto-Lithuanian race” – believing they would be stronger together in seeking independence. Remarkably, prominent Latvian writers like Rainis and Aspazija also entertained this idea of a unified Latvia-Lithuania before they even met (they later married, each having dreamed of unity independently). However, when independence arrived in 1918–1920, these two new nations ultimately went their separate ways. Historians now note that those early “Latvian-Lithuanian union” plans had no real prospect – they were discussed in refugee circles and by a few visionary thinkers, but on the ground the political will wasn’t there. Still, the fact that such plans existed is a fascinating what-if of Baltic history: we might have seen a single country (sometimes whimsically called “Aistija” after an old name for Baltic peoples) covering present-day Latvia and Lithuania.

Another push for unity came in the 1920s–1930s. Facing aggressive neighbors (Stalin’s USSR and Hitler’s Germany), the Baltic governments tried to band together for strength. This led to the Baltic Entente, a treaty of alliance and cooperation signed by Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania in 1934. The Baltic Entente was essentially a mutual defense and diplomacy pact – a Baltic mini-bloc. It was a significant step: the three foreign ministers met regularly, and the countries pledged to support each other internationally. However, deeper integration (like a political federation) didn’t materialize in that era. Lithuania’s foreign policy conflicted at times with Estonia’s and Latvia’s, especially due to Lithuanian tensions with Poland, which made Lithuania wary of fully trusting neighbors that saw Poland as a potential ally. In the end, the Baltic Entente proved too weak to stop the tides of WWII – by 1940, despite their statements of solidarity, all three were overwhelmed by Soviet invasion.

Interestingly, an even more ambitious idea floated in the interwar period was “Baltoscandia”, a grand Baltic-Scandinavian confederation.

The concept was introduced in 1928 by Swedish geographer Sten de Geer, who suggested that all the Nordic and Baltic countries shared enough interests to form a league or federation. This theoretical Baltoscandian Union would have included Scandinavia (Sweden, Denmark, Norway) plus Finland and the Baltics – essentially uniting the entire Northeastern Europe region of small democracies. The rationale was both cultural and strategic: these nations together could better resist the “imperial designs” of big neighbors like Russia or Germany. For the Baltic states, it was attractive to “hitch their fledgling states to other small countries across the sea”, finding safety in numbers. In practice, Baltoscandia never got off the drawing board – wartime events intervened brutally – but the idea has resurfaced occasionally. After 1991, for instance, Baltic leaders cooperated with the Nordics so closely that they formed the NB8 (Nordic-Baltic Eight) forum, which some joke is “Baltoscandia in all but name.” And as recently as 2023, pundits were speculating about deeper Nordic-Baltic alignment as Finland and Sweden joined NATO (countries which previously stayed relatively neutral and out of the NATO group) alongside the already NATO-member Baltic trio.

No discussion of Baltic unity is complete without mentioning the unique kinship between Estonia and Finland – and the intriguing attempts to create a Finnish-Estonian union. These two countries share not only the Baltic Sea but also closely related languages and ethnic roots. In the Estonian language, there’s even a word “soomesugu” (literally “Finnic kin”) to denote the familial bond of the Finnish and Estonian peoples. During their independence struggles in 1918–1920, they helped each other militarily – 3,000+ Finnish volunteers came to fight in Estonia’s War of Independence, and later, in WWII, Estonian volunteers joined Finland’s forces against the Soviet Union. This camaraderie fed the idea that maybe the two Finnic nations could unite as one.

In fact, Estonia’s head of state, Konstantin Päts, repeatedly pushed for a federation with Finland. In 1917–18, as Estonia declared independence, Päts and others drafted a memorandum for a Finnish-Estonian state union – envisioning a federation where both countries kept their parliaments but shared a president, foreign policy, military, and currency. Päts even publicly mused in 1919 about a “common Finnish-Estonian republic” with its president residing alternately in Helsinki and Tallinn. The logic was clear: Estonia alone feared it was too weak, so linking with Finland might secure its future. Early on, some influential Finns were open to the idea – for example, in December 1917 Estonia’s council of elders discussed positive signals from Finnish leaders about a potential union.

However, Finnish enthusiasm got cooler. Many Finns, having just escaped Russian rule, were wary of entanglement that might anger Soviet Russia or dilute Finland’s hard-won sovereignty. Finland’s priority was building ties with Sweden and staying out of further conflicts, so its government never embraced the union proposal wholeheartedly. As a result, the plan stalled in the 1920s. But interestingly, Päts did not give up. As late as summer 1940 – literally while the USSR was in the process of occupying Estonia – Päts made a last-ditch plea for Estonia to unite with Finland in a federation (hoping to present Moscow with a fait accompli of a merged state). He gave a proposal document to a Finnish envoy in Tallinn in July 1940. Sadly, that same day in 1940 Päts was arrested by Soviet troops and deported to Siberia. The dream of a “Finnish-Estonian Union” was snuffed out by Soviet occupation.

Still, the idea never fully died in the popular imagination. Over the years, many Estonians quietly nurtured the notion that they “belong with Finland.” In the late Soviet era, northern Estonians could catch Finnish TV broadcasts, serving as a window to the free world and further romanticizing Finland as their kindred nation. And in recent times, some have even floated creative proposals like building an undersea tunnel between Helsinki and Tallinn to physically link the two countries. Polls have shown surprising support for unification: in 2018, about 34% of Estonians said they would vote “yes” in a referendum to join Finland as one country. That is far from a majority, but it’s a remarkable figure that shows how alive the sentiment still is for some portion of the population. While a political union is highly unlikely, Estonia and Finland today cooperate more closely than ever – coordinating defense, aligning their economies, and jointly developing infrastructure like the Rail Baltica link and energy grids. It’s a relationship almost as close as an unofficial union. And, now as both countries being part of the European Union and NATO, one could say that the unity in some ways have been achieved.

All these historical episodes show a pattern: the Baltic and Nordic small nations have long recognized that unity could be key to their survival in a region sandwiched between larger powers. The fact that none of the grand schemes – not the Latvian-Lithuanian state, not the Baltic Union, not the Finno-Estonian federation – fully materialized owes to varying political interests and external pressures. Yet, the constant striving for alliances and federations speaks to an enduring desire for regional solidarity. In a way, the European Union today finally provides what these countries once hoped to achieve on their own: a larger framework of collective security and identity, without erasing their independence.

Baltic, Scandinavian, Nordic – Blurring Lines of Identity

The northern corner of Europe has a patchwork of overlapping identities: Baltic, Nordic, Scandinavian, Finno-Ugric, and so on. These terms often confuse outsiders, yet to locals they carry real significance. The distinctions have evolved over time and sometimes ignited debates (and friendly rivalry) among neighbors.

To summarize the key geography: Scandinavia strictly means the three monarchies of the Scandinavian Peninsula and Jutland – Norway, Sweden, and Denmark. These countries share closely related Scandinavian languages (Norwegian, Swedish, Danish) and a common medieval history. Nordic countries, on the other hand, is a broader term (Norden) that includes Scandinavia plus Finland and Iceland, as well as associated territories like the Faroe Islands and Greenland. Finland is Nordic but not Scandinavian – a crucial distinction that Finns often gently educate people on. Iceland is Nordic but definitely not Scandinavian.

Meanwhile, the Baltics (Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania) are geographically part of Northern Europe but not Nordic in the club sense. They were historically outside the Nordic political unions and did not participate in institutions like the Nordic Council (until maybe observer status recently). Culturally, however, the lines can blur. Estonia, as discussed, feels culturally close to Finland. Latvia and Lithuania arguably have historical ties southward and eastward (to Germany, Poland, etc.), yet in the modern context they often find common cause with their Nordic neighbors on issues of European policy and security.

One example of these blurred lines: in 2020 the Prime Ministers of Finland and Estonia co-authored an op-ed declaring that “Estonia and Finland are of one mind” about regional cooperation, even floating the idea of a joint “twin-country” economic area in the future. It shows how much the old mental dividing lines (Nordic vs Baltic) have softened since the Iron Curtain fell. Another example: Latvia and Sweden, which had been estranged by the Cold War, are once again close partners, with Swedes investing heavily in Latvia’s economy and culture. The Swedish language is taught in Latvian schools, and Stockholm is a popular destination for Baltic students. Lithuania, for its part, often aligns with Poland due to shared history, but it too has sought observer status in Nordic initiatives. All three Baltic states have joined the EU and NATO alongside the Nordics, making them peers at the table of European nations.

Yet, for all the convergence, Estonia remains the only one of the three sometimes called “Nordic” – and even that is contentious. In popular discourse, you will rarely hear someone refer to Latvia or Lithuania as Nordic countries. Lithuania tends to self-identify more as Central/Eastern European, given its Catholic and continental heritage. Latvia is perhaps in between, sometimes leaning toward the Nordic, sometimes not. Estonia alone has pushed the hardest to be seen as a Nordic nation. Ilves’s speeches in the 1990s humorously suggested Estonia should be categorized in “Yule-land” – his term for the lands that celebrate the ancient Yule winter festival, basically meaning the Nordic and Anglo-Saxon countries. (He even included the UK in this tongue-in-cheek cultural map!) The subtext was clear: Estonia belongs with the modern, democratic, Protestant-or-secular, technologically advanced North – not with any outdated notion of the “Baltic” (which to many ears equates to “former Soviet”).

So far, the Nordic Council has not extended full membership to any Baltic state, and “Nordic” in formal terms still excludes Estonia. But cooperation is so tight that the difference is increasingly academic. In fields like defense, the Nordic and Baltic countries meet regularly and coordinate strategy. They formed a joint Nordic-Baltic battlegroup within the EU’s defense framework in the 2010s. Their foreign ministers frequently issue joint statements as NB8, and during the COVID-19 crisis they held joint calls to manage regional travel. In technology and business, Baltic capitals often brand themselves alongside the Nordics – for instance, Estonia’s e-governance and startup scene is often compared to Finland or Sweden rather than to its southern or eastern neighbors.

Will we ever see these identities merge into one? It’s hard to say, but it’s not impossible to imagine a future where the old distinctions matter less. Already, maps and diagrams have been drawn of a notional “Baltoscandia” – essentially a united Northern Europe from Iceland to Lithuania. It remains a “made-up country,” as one commentator put it, but one with a real raison d’être given the shared interests. The countries of the region, whether Baltic or Nordic, are all vibrant liberal democracies with relatively high living standards and a common interest in keeping Russian aggression at bay. In that sense, they have far more in common with each other than with their former rulers in Moscow. It is telling that Lithuania revived the Baltoscandian confederation idea after regaining independence in 1991, at least as an intellectual exercise. While a formal union never emerged, the Baltic states did the next best thing: they joined the Nordics in virtually every multilateral sphere. Today an observer might well say that the Baltic and Nordic countries together form one coherent Northern European community, divided only by nomenclature.

Conclusion

In the end, the meaning of “Baltic” continues to evolve, shaped by history’s twists. What was once a broad geographic term became a narrow political label, and now that label is being reexamined by the very nations it’s supposed to describe. Finland’s journey – from being grouped with the Baltics, to carving out a Nordic identity – shows how fluid these regional definitions can be. The lingering debates and dreams, from Päts’s Finnic union to Ilves’s Nordic rebranding, highlight the ongoing search for security and recognition in Northern Europe. Perhaps the most insightful way to view it is this: all these countries, whether Baltic or Nordic, are part of the broader family of the Nordic-Baltic region. They have each retained distinct identities – Estonian is not the same as Lithuanian, Finnish is not Swedish – yet they also know their fates are intertwined. Today, citizens of Tallinn, Riga, Vilnius, Helsinki, Stockholm, Oslo, Copenhagen, and Reykjavik fly each other’s flags at festivals, learn each other’s languages, and stand united in institutions from the EU to NATO.

The labels may still matter – and people will still playfully argue whether Scandinavia includes Finland (it doesn’t) or whether Estonia is Nordic (jury’s out) – but in practice the region is more connected than ever. “Baltic” no longer confines these nations to a Soviet shadow; it is becoming just a neutral geographic term, one thread in the rich tapestry of Northern Europe. Who knows, in another generation we might speak of the entire Baltoscandian realm in one breath. As history shows, today’s unlikely idea can be tomorrow’s reality – especially in this ever-dynamic corner of the world. In the meantime, The Northern Voices will keep exploring these shifts, reminding us that identity, like the Baltic Sea’s tides, is always in motion.

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