For the last several years China has viewed the region of Central and Eastern Europe as an opportunity to gain a foothold in the European Union and influence states between the East and the West. One country not often considered as one in China’s focus is Lithuania.

A conversation with Petras Auštrevičius, member of the European Parliament from Lithuania. Interviewer: Adam Reichardt.

In his electoral campaign Gitanas Nausėda presented himself as a peacemaker. He promised a new standard in Lithuanian politics, one without intrigue or fighting. He explained that problems can be solved with dialogue. During the campaign he tried to appeal to all voters, but the people do not want a president without an opinion.

It was May 26th, almost midnight, when it became clear who will take over Dalia Grybauskaitė’s chair as Lithuania’s president. Gitanas Nausėda stood on the stage in front of the presidential palace, together with his wife, and celebrated his victory. “Things will be different,” Nausėda said in his victory speech. It has been over two months since Nausėda’s inauguration and the question remains – what has changed in Lithuania? What changes does Nausėda want to bring about and does he have a power to change much at all?

On the Eastern border of the European Union, a new stage of cross-border co-operation with Russia has begun. Yet, new joint initiatives are unravelling in a tense atmosphere.

On January 23rd this year a particularly cold morning breaks on the border between the European Union and the Russian oblast of Kaliningrad. At 8 am, Lithuanian anti-corruption officers wrapped in thick coats are conducting a search at the Jurbarkas District Municipality building. Their heavy steps wake up the provincial bureaucracy. The gossip that the search is related to Russia spreads rapidly through the building’s dark corridors and soon reaches local and national media.

In this second part of the two-part special podcast, Talk Eastern Europe dissects the results of the European Parliamentary elections in the region of Central and Eastern Europe.

A conversation with Nijolė Oželytė-Vaitiekūnienė, a prominent Lithuanian actress. Interviewer: Linas Jegelevicius

LINAS JEGELEVICIUS: In recent interviews, you have labelled yourself Homo Sovieticus, a sardonic and critical reference to the average conformist person living in the Soviet Union. How is this compatible with you being a woman who has spoken out many times on woman rights and who has travelled the world after the restoration of independence in 1990?

NIJOLĖ OŽELYTĖ-VAITIEKŪNIENĖ: All of us who were born during the years of Soviet occupation are Homo Sovieticus, more or less. In fact, we – that generation – shouldn’t be ashamed of it, deny or repudiate it. When I think of the past, I like to use the example of the victims of Stockholm syndrome.

The three Baltic countries are celebrating 100 years of independence this year. What kind of societies have they become in the last century marked by both freedom and occupation? Three creative leaders from Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania reflect on their struggles.

Not a lot of countries are so often mentioned in the same breath as Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania. When Pope Francis visited the three Baltic republics in September, he did not even need a whole week to set foot in all the countries. In recent history, of course, the trio have a lot in common. All suffered under Soviet occupation for nearly half of the 20th century, a period included in the 100 years of independence because they (plus the western world) never agreed with Moscow that the Baltics entered the USSR voluntarily.

How can barriers between two historically close countries like Belarus and Lithuania be lowered or eliminated? What are the prospects of improved relations between the two states? Ultimately, closer ties between ordinary Belarusians and Lithuanians could serve as the best guarantor of closer political relations.

During his September 2018 visit to Vilnius, Pope Francis quoted Lithuania’s national anthem and encouraged people to “draw strength from the past”. He reiterated what is often common knowledge: for one to look to the future, one must first know and make peace with the past. In theory the same logic could apply to Lithuania and Belarus, two neighbours that, over the centuries, have spent more time together – that is, belonging to (or being ruled by) the same state – than apart.

Lithuania and Poland have always had a special relationship with several ups and downs since the fall of communism. These days interests are slowly aligning and a format for future cooperation is being established.

A review of Magnetic North: Conversations with Tomas Venclova. By: Tomas Venclova and Ellen Hinsey. Publisher: University of Rochester Press, Rochester New York, 2017.

Today our world is plagued with massive flows of information, chaos, propaganda, post-truth and fake news. If we play on John Austin’s conception of doing things with words, one might have a feeling that our world is simply cramped. There is a tendency to equate being prolific with being great, as literary criticism and economics prefer easily quantifiable works. Aware that culture has origins in the Latin cultivare, we should expect it to bear fruit once a year. The Lithuanian poet and Yale professor Tomas Venclova, however, approaches it with much more patience.

Lithuania has the highest suicide rate in all of Europe. The country underwent a difficult transition after the fall of the Soviet Union and still struggles with problems from the past. However, things are changing and an unlikely group from a small town is now leading the charge.

It is a three hour bus ride from the nation’s capital, Vilnius, to the north-eastern part of Lithuania. The trip through the country is picturesque. In an old bus on a bumpy road, we pass by idyllic woods and shining lakes. When we arrive to our destination, a 1.5 metre tall sign greets us –“Welcome to Kupiškis.”

At first glance, Kupiškis looks like any other city in a rural area. The bus station is old and grey and is the only connection to the rest of the country. A large church and its two tall towers can be seen from most of the city. The main street takes you through the city to the municipal building, a cultural centre, a tourist information point and a few local shops.

This article originally appeared in Deep Baltic and was republished in "Meanwhile in the Baltics...", a collection of articles written by the graduates of 2016 Solidarity Academy - Baltic Sea Youth Dialogue, organised by the European Solidarity Centre in partnership with the Council of the Baltic Sea States.