On the evening of August 23, 1989, an astonishing sight unfolded across Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania. Nearly two million people joined hands to form a 675-kilometer human chain stretching from Tallinn through Riga to Vilnius – a peaceful protest known as the Baltic Way.

The term “Baltic countries” today commonly refers to Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania, three small nations on the eastern coast of the Baltic Sea. This usage emerged only in the 20th century. Before World War I, the idea of a unified “Baltic” group of nations did not really exist – Estonia and Latvia were known as the Baltic Provinces of the Russian Empire, while Lithuania was often grouped with Poland. After World War I, however, a cluster of newly independent states formed on the Baltic Sea’s eastern shore. Finland, Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania – all gaining independence around 1917–1918 – were initially all considered “Baltic states” in the interwar period.

At its height in the mid-1600s, the Swedish Empire stood as one of Europe’s great powers — a northern giant whose reach extended from Scandinavia to the Baltics and deep into Central Europe. Its rise reshaped the cultural, legal, and academic landscape of the region, leaving traces still visible today in universities, languages, and laws across Finland, Estonia, and Latvia. Yet, behind the golden glow of what some remember as the “good old Swedish times” lay centuries of war, heavy taxation, and cultural tension. This article explores how Sweden’s imperial ambitions forged both enlightenment and hardship — a legacy that continues to define the shared history of the Nordic and Baltic worlds.

In the 19th century, as European nations rediscovered their folk roots, two kindred peoples – the Finns and Estonians – sang their nations into being through epic poetry. Finland’s Kalevala (first published 1835, expanded 1849) and Estonia’s Kalevipoeg (1857–1861) are national epics born of oral folklore and Romantic nationalism.

A grassroots emblem born on the internet, shaped by old symbols and new kinship—and why it still resonates in Finland, Estonia, and elsewhere even without official backing.

Traveling across Europe, one might assume that a basic grasp of Indo-European languages (from English and French to Russian) would suffice to decipher road signs or overhear conversations. Yet in three countries – Estonia, Finland, and Hungary – a traveler is met with words and sounds utterly unfamiliar, even alien, to the ears accustomed to Romance, Germanic, or Slavic speech.

When Estonian-born, New York–based artist Valev Laube first began sketching out ideas for a modest EP in early 2025, he didn’t know it would grow into a full-length, emotionally charged album about healing, balance, and rebirth. What started as a few quiet sketches for violin and piano became a profound sonic diary—an unguarded reflection of what it means to find peace after turmoil.

Tallinn’s waterfront is dominated by a vast concrete structure that locals know all too well – Linnahall. This sprawling Soviet-era edifice, completed in 1980, was once a bustling venue for sports and concerts. Today it stands silent and decaying, at the center of a passionate debate over preservation and redevelopment. In this article, we explore why Linnahall was built, its architectural significance in Estonia (and the Soviet Union of its time), the recent controversies over its fate, proposed renovation plans, and even a brush with Hollywood magic that renewed public interest in this hulking landmark.

Rising above each Baltic capital is a monumental Soviet-era TV tower – but a closer look reveals an intriguing anomaly. The towers in Tallinn (Estonia) and Vilnius (Lithuania) bear an uncanny resemblance, like architectural twins, while Riga’s tower in Latvia stands apart with a strikingly different, futuristic design. How did these parallel and divergent structures come to be?

The national flags of Finland, Iceland, Norway, Sweden, and Denmark all feature the characteristic off-center “Nordic cross.” The offset cross design (symbolizing Christianity) traces back to Denmark. Legend holds that Denmark’s Dannebrog (red with white cross) fell from the sky during the 1219 Battle of Lindanise (in present-day Tallinn, Estonia), securing victory for King Valdemar II.

Nordic sauna culture is ubiquitous – in fact, “steaming in saunas is a way of life for most Nordics”. Finland alone has about 3.3 million saunas for 5.5 million people. Across the eight Nordic lands (Finland, Sweden, Norway, Denmark, Iceland, Faroe Islands, Greenland, Åland), saunas are treated as sacred, everyday rituals – not novelty spa experiences.

The Setos are an indigenous Finno-Ugric people whose home is Setomaa, a region straddling southeastern Estonia and western Russia. Setomaa was historically known as Petserimaa – after Estonia’s independence it was split, leaving two-thirds of the land (including the old capital Petseri, now Pechory) on the Russian side. In modern times roughly 10,000–13,000 people in Estonia identify as Seto (only a few hundred remain across the border). Today’s Setos speak a local South-Estonian dialect and (unlike most Estonians) follow Eastern Orthodox Christianity.

The Tallinn Song Festival Grounds Arch: In 1960, Estonia unveiled a striking new open-air stage in Tallinn – an immense arched “singing stage” built to host the nation’s beloved Song Festival. This soaring shell structure (locally called the Laulukaar, or “singing arch”) was unlike anything seen in the Soviet Union at the time. Architect Alar Kotli, who co-designed it with Henno Sepmann, reportedly envisioned the arch as a giant “bugle” amplifying the voices of the choir. He even built a cardboard model to demonstrate how the curved form could project sound. The arch’s elegant shape was also a bold engineering feat: a hyperbolic-paraboloid (saddle-shaped) canopy of concrete and steel, stretched between two giant arches.

For over a century, one song has captured the soul of the Estonian nation perhaps more than any other. “Mu isamaa on minu arm” (“My Fatherland Is My Love”) is often called Estonia’s unofficial anthem – a song so cherished that it traditionally closes every Estonian Song Festival with tens of thousands joining voices. Born as a 19th-century poem and later transformed into a powerful patriotic hymn, “Mu isamaa on minu arm” became a musical embodiment of Estonia’s identity and resilience. During the Soviet occupation (1944–1991), when Estonia’s flag and official anthem were banned, this song served as a surrogate national anthem and a subtle act of defiance.

Greenland, the world’s largest island, is an Arctic land of dramatic icecaps and rich cultural heritage. Despite its vast geography, Greenland’s population is just around 56,000 – about 88% of whom are Inuit, known as Kalaallit in the West Greenlandic. These Indigenous Greenlanders have maintained a vibrant way of life in harmony with the harsh but beautiful environment for millennia. From ancient Inuit traditions to Norse Viking tales and a colonial past under Denmark, Greenland’s history and culture weave a remarkable story of resilience and unity.