Beneath the weathered stone towers of Pskov’s medieval fortress, the pace of life remains stubbornly mundane. Fishermen line the banks of the Velikaya—the “Great” river—casting rods into dark waters while a large white sign nearby declares, “Russia starts here.” For the residents of this frontier outpost, the geopolitical friction defining the current era is less a looming crisis and more a background hum.
While NATO and EU members Estonia and Latvia remain on high alert, just 30 and 60 kilometers to the west, this Russian border city shrugs off Baltic fears of attack. In Pskov, the anxiety that consumes the capitals of Tallinn and Riga is viewed not as a reality, but as a distant, almost foreign, misunderstanding.
The contrast is stark. Since the full-scale invasion of Ukraine in 2022, the Baltic states have tightened border controls and repeatedly warned that they could be the next targets of Moscow’s territorial ambitions. Yet, in the cafes and riverbanks of Pskov, the prevailing mood is one of indifference or a quiet, resolute support for the Kremlin’s military efforts.
A Divide of Perception and Proximity
For Yulia Andreyeva, a 52-year-old accountant, the idea that Russia would launch an offensive into the Baltics is an absolute fantasy. Before the conflict in Ukraine began, she traveled frequently to Estonia and Latvia. now, those trips are a memory. However, she notes that she does not particularly miss the old life, spending her holidays instead within the local region.
Pskov occupies a unique position in the current conflict. Unlike the Russian border regions adjacent to Ukraine, which have been subjected to retaliatory drone and rocket strikes, Pskov remains quiet. This lack of direct kinetic impact has fostered a sense of detachment from the urgency felt across the border.
Ivan Smirnov, a 23-year-old student, embodies this detachment. Having traveled to Egypt and Cuba—nations that maintain friendly ties with Moscow—Smirnov views the border closures with a shrug. While he acknowledges that the fear in Europe is understandable from their perspective, he views the relationship as a simple mirror image: the Baltics see Russia as an opponent, and Russia sees them the same way.
Border Provocations and ‘Hybrid Warfare’
While Pskov sleeps soundly, the Estonian government is describing a different reality. Authorities in Tallinn have reported a rise in border provocations, particularly around the city of Narva. Narva is a flashpoint of tension, as approximately 95 percent of its population are native Russian speakers.
The friction has manifested in small but symbolic clashes. In the spring of 2024, Estonia accused Russia of removing buoys that mark the border in the middle of the river. Further tensions spiked in December when Estonian officials claimed three Russian border guards briefly crossed onto Estonian territory. These incidents are often categorized by NATO officials as part of a broader strategy of “hybrid warfare” intended to destabilize the region.
Moscow, conversely, dismisses these concerns as “manic Russophobia.” The Kremlin continues to cast itself as the protector of Russian-speaking minorities in the Baltics—a rhetorical strategy that closely mirrors the justifications used by Russia prior to its invasion of Ukraine.
Comparative Border Perspectives
| Feature | Pskov Perspective (Russia) | Baltic Perspective (Estonia/Latvia) |
|---|---|---|
| Threat Level | Viewed as “fantasy” or exaggerated. | Existential threat; high alert. |
| Border Activity | Quiet; focus on aid and logistics. | Reports of provocations and incursions. |
| Primary Emotion | Indifference or patriotic support. | Anxiety and strategic apprehension. |
| View of the “Other” | Europe is trying to weaken Russia. | Russia is an aggressor seeking expansion. |
The Home Front: Aid and Ideology
The indifference toward Baltic fears does not translate to indifference toward the war in Ukraine. Pskov has become a hub for supporting Moscow’s military operations. In a region of roughly 570,000 people, approximately 20 aid centers—both state-sponsored and private—operate to supply the front lines.
One such initiative, the Alt foundation, manages a massive logistical pipeline. Every two months, the group sends nearly 40 tons of medicine, clothing, and generators to the Zaporizhzhia region, which is currently under partial Russian control. The motivation for this work is often deeply personal; Alyona Ulyanova, the head of the foundation, manages these shipments while coping with the fact that her husband lost a leg and an arm in the conflict.
This culture of support extends to the elderly. Larisa, 68, spends her days at a local center weaving camouflage nets for soldiers. For her and many others in Pskov, this labor is a primary way of contributing to the national effort.
The Cost of Severed Ties
Despite the patriotic fervor, the collapse of diplomacy has left tangible scars on the local population. For some, the “iron curtain” has returned in a personal way. Sergei Ivanovich, a 65-year-old fisherman, speaks of the pain of severed family ties, noting that he can no longer visit relatives in Riga, Latvia.
The economic impact is also felt. Ivanovich mentions a family member who previously earned a living driving trucks between the two countries but lost their job as the borders slammed shut. However, these hardships are rarely blamed on the Kremlin. Instead, Ivanovich echoes the narrative promoted by President Vladimir Putin: that all of Europe is aligned against Russia in a concerted effort to weaken the nation.
This worldview creates a psychological shield in Pskov. By framing the conflict as a defensive struggle against a hostile West, the residents can reconcile their personal losses—lost jobs and separated families—with their support for the state’s military goals.
As the Baltic states continue to reinforce their defenses and coordinate with NATO, the residents of Pskov remain in a state of suspended animation, waiting for a peace that Yulia Andreyeva fears may never come, noting that the current conflict has already lasted longer than the fight against Nazi Germany in World War II.
The next critical indicator of stability in the region will be the upcoming reviews of border security protocols by the Estonian government and their subsequent reports on Russian troop movements near the Narva crossing.
Do you believe the disparity in perception between Pskov and the Baltics is a result of state media or genuine local sentiment? Share your thoughts in the comments below.
