On 5 October 2026, a Russian court formally recognised thirteen individuals and five organisations from the Baltic states as accomplices of Nazi Germany. The decision turns a Second World War episode into a new instrument of political confrontation. Behind the memory of wartime crimes, Moscow now openly invokes the defence of its “national interests” — a rhetoric that goes far beyond history and lands squarely in the middle of today’s unprecedented tensions between Russia, the Baltic states and NATO.

A case with no defendants in the dock

The affair could have remained confined to Second World War archives. Instead, it has taken on a clear geopolitical dimension.

In late September, the Russian Prosecutor General’s Office petitioned the Tver District Court in Moscow to grant legal recognition to the responsibility of thirteen individuals and five Baltic organisations for war crimes and crimes against humanity committed during the Nazi occupation.

On 5 October, the court granted the request. Among the organisations named are the Estonian Omakaitse, the Latvian formations Aizsargi and Pērkonkrusts, the Lithuanian Activist Front and the Union of Lithuanian Nationalists. The individuals cited include Ain-Ervin Mere, Viktor Arājs and Herberts Cukurs.

Moscow says it relied on archival documents from the security services, the Ministry of Defence and Russian state archives. The Russian Council on Military History also took part in preparing the expert assessment submitted to the court.

On one point, the historical record is not without foundation: collaboration by certain Baltic formations and individuals with the German occupation authorities, and their involvement in crimes against civilians and Soviet prisoners, is a subject extensively documented by historians.

But Moscow’s choice is clearly not limited to a memorial gesture.

When memory becomes a political instrument

In its 5 October statement, the Russian Prosecutor General’s Office described the ruling as a “fact of legal significance”. It said the decision should help preserve historical memory and fight what it calls the falsification of history. Crucially, the institution explicitly linked the move to the protection of the national interests of the Russian Federation.

That last phrase is what gives the case its particular weight.

For several years, Moscow has accused the Baltic authorities of rewriting the history of the Second World War and glorifying collaborators of the Nazi regime. In September, the Prosecutor General’s Office had already denounced what it described as a systematic policy.

The vocabulary used fits into a broader Kremlin narrative: a Russia presented as the heir to the Soviet victory over Nazism and facing a supposed resurgence of “fascism” or “Nazism” among some of its neighbours.

This framing had already occupied a central place in Russian discourse on Ukraine. Extending it to the three Baltic states is therefore politically significant.

The Baltic states in Moscow’s sights

Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania are not simply Russia’s neighbours. They are members of the European Union and NATO, and now form one of the main points of contact between the Atlantic Alliance and Russian territory.

Since the start of the war in Ukraine, the three countries have adopted some of Europe’s firmest positions towards Moscow. They strongly support Kyiv and regard Russia as a direct threat to their security.

Baltic governments regularly reject Russian accusations of propaganda and discrimination. In April 2026, Tallinn, Riga and Vilnius had already jointly denounced what they called a Russian disinformation campaign targeting their countries.

The new legal procedure is therefore likely to reinforce an already established dynamic: in Moscow, history serves to challenge the political legitimacy of its neighbours; in the Baltic capitals, Russian pressure is used to justify deeper military cooperation with the West.

A legal dimension — but what consequences?

An extrapolation should nonetheless be avoided: the Tver court’s decision does not, on its own, mean that military or territorial action against the Baltic states is imminent.

The procedure concerns historical figures and organisations, most of them dead or defunct, and relates to events dating back to the Second World War.

Its importance lies elsewhere.

By labelling these facts as “legally significant”, Moscow is assembling a new piece in its historical and diplomatic argument. Some Russian officials have already suggested that the decision could be used in international forums.

The risk is therefore one of a gradual instrumentalisation of law and history: producing national judicial decisions, feeding them into a diplomatic narrative, then using them to challenge the political or historical legitimacy of the Baltic states.

This is what some observers describe as a form of lawfare — the use of law as an instrument of political confrontation.

NATO and the battle of narratives

The stakes go beyond Moscow, Riga, Vilnius and Tallinn. They directly concern NATO.

The Baltic states are covered by Article 5 of the North Atlantic Treaty: an attack on one member is considered an attack on all. The gradual transformation of Russian historical discourse into a political argument thus creates a particularly sensitive strategic environment.

This tension comes at a time when military concerns in the region are already high. Russia has recently stepped up warnings about NATO activity around Kaliningrad, while the Alliance says its posture in the region is defensive.

On 6 October, Moscow also reacted sharply to Lithuanian plans concerning the evolution of its nuclear policy and the possibility of a larger US military presence in the country. The Kremlin denounced a possible escalation linked to the approach of US and NATO military infrastructure towards Russian borders.

In this context, the battle over memory is far from trivial.

A new front line

The “Baltic collaborators” case ultimately illustrates a broader shift in the confrontation between Russia and the West: the battlefields are no longer only military.

Archives, courts, historical memory, diplomacy and public communication are also becoming instruments of power.

It would be excessive to see the Moscow court’s decision as proof of an immediate plan of aggression against the Baltic states. But it would be just as unwise to dismiss it as a mere quarrel among historians.

By simultaneously invoking the memory of the Second World War, the fight against “Nazism” and the protection of Russian national interests, Moscow is constructing a narrative that directly links past and present.

And in a region where three NATO member states lie just tens or hundreds of kilometres from Russian territory, this battle of narratives could have very real consequences for European security.

By Yacouba Ouédraogo — Journalist