The story behind Gotland's predicament
By Eliza Calment
5 Dec 2007
On Monday, the Foreign Minister of Poland submitted a report to the European Forum pushing for diplomatic sanctions on the Prussian Republic, more commonly known as Gotland, citing the persecution of the island country's Christian minority. The Gotlandic government has refused to acknowledge these claims, with prime minister Maks Jurgis Kaivasiskas dismissing them as "malign and unfounded". With this Baltic country appearing in the news so often, it has recently become a topic of heated discussion here in England, with sanctions along the line of Sokołowski's proposal gaining widespread support. In spite of this, a common thread in most of this discourse is a general lack of knowledge on what Tengrism is, and how Prussia got into its current situation -- perhaps a relic of an education system that focuses increasingly on empirical sciences at the expense of the humanities.
In any case, I spent four days in Gotland last month to shed some light on the present state of this small and divided country.
What is Tengrism?
Tengrism is an ancient Turkic religion, first recorded in ancient Chinese texts dating from the 4th century BC. It was once widespread, being practiced from Hungary all the way to Manchuria. However, it was gradually superseded by Christianity, Islam, and Buddhism, and today, Gotland is one of two places in the world where it is still practiced -- the other being Manchuria, where it is discouraged by the Chinese government.
Tengrism believes in a supreme deity called "Kök Tengri" (literally "Blue Sky"), a universal being whose spirit pervades all of reality. All other divine beings are regarded as being part of Tengri. The universe is divided into three worlds -- the Earth, the Overworld, and the Underworld -- and shamans have special connections to the two other worlds. Despite the presence and practice of shamans, Tengrist faith is very personal, having no holy book or organized leadership. Thus, these shamans have born the burden of keeping the faith alive, which has been cited as a reason for its current precarious position.
What makes Prussia's religious history interesting is that, ethnically, its people are not Turkic. The Prussians began as a Baltic tribe living in the region now known as Old Prussia. In the Early Middle Ages, Eastern Europe was host to more migrations than one could shake a stick at, and the religious traditions of the Turks transcended ethnic lines as a result. The Magyars (ancient Hungarians) appeared to practice some form of Tengrism by the time of their arrival in Transcarpathia, the Bulgarian Empire briefly imposed it on its Slavic subjects in the Balkans, and, most importantly, the Khazar Khaganate brought it to the ancient Slavic nation of Severia, which dropped its old form of paganism.
As you might have guessed, Severia expanded north, conquering most of the East Slavic and Baltic peoples, and zealously converting them to its newfound faith. As the Severian Federation splintered in the 13th century, the Prussians took control of the Baltic coast, and the Kingdom of Prussia was born.
The people of Gotland
Not long after my plane touched down in Svetroza, the country's outwardly defensive attitude presented itself. To get out of the airport, all passengers had to pass through two security checkpoints, presided over by civil personnel, and the occasional Samogitian Hound on duty. As a Christian and a foreigner, my presence here aroused some suspicion, and I was held up and questioned for about an hour before my papers were processed and I received clearance to leave.
My trip to the hotel was uneventful. Along the way, I had a sense of guilty eagerness that I would witness something big, something that might rivet my English audience and define what I was here to explore. Against my expectations, the streets were quiet.
I met with my first interviewee the next day over dark rye, bacon, and coffee. She is a member of the Christian civil rights group Svabadiba, and she asked that her name not be disclosed for her own safety. A week ago, she took part in a march protesting the closure of a church in Akmenoste in response to alleged terrorist activity. The march was met by civil security forces in riot gear, and at least one activist was hospitalized with injuries.
"This is typical of the government in this country. They don't want to see their own hypocrisy." She stated. "This government wants to kill empathy, and it's afraid that the people are smarter than that. This country belongs to all of us -- Tengrist, Christian, Jew -- we are all Gotlanders, and we will fight for the respect we are owed."
Her message might not just be wishful thinking. Among the nation's Tengrist majority, opinions on recent events have hardly been consistent. On my second day, I met with Klais Silasaka, a gray-haired, devout Tengrist living on the outer edge of the capital, and the historical irony of Gotland's policies are certainly not lost on him.
"My family and I washed up on this island after the Civil War." He said. "For years, they've been saying on the telly how the Christians are a threat to national security. I even believed them. But then I saw what was going on with the Tengrists who stayed in Ventaland, and I saw the same thing: strongmen, feeding on hate." He coughed and readjusted in his seat. "These fools don't know their history. But I do. I've seen it. Division only makes us weaker."
A brief history of Tengrist Prussia
Following its independence, Prussia was well-poised to take advantage of trade in the Baltic Sea. By the 14th century, its port cities became important stops in a trade network that stretched from Finland and Novgorod to Holland and London. This was the start of the Prussian Golden Age, and the country's navy soon scaled to match its merchant fleet. Following a war with Sweden, Gotland became part of the Tengrist kingdom's domains in 1360.
In the 16th century, Prussia was eclipsed by its neighbors, but it found an ally in Fedorov Vladimir. Earlier, the Fedorov dynasty adopted Finnic Christianity, and after it conquered much of former Severia, Tengrism saw a sharp decline in those areas. Still, neither the Christian kingdoms of Europe nor the Muslim Cumans were very fond of either, with the Prussians being heathens and the Vladimirish being heretics. This enmity formed the foundation for a trusty alliance of convenience.
Prussia's luck went south two centuries later. As Vladimir's electoral monarchy got mired in gridlock and succession crises, it fell prey to the ascendant Kazakh Empire, and Prussia followed soon after. Under Muslim rule, the shamans were silenced and the practice of Tengrism was forbidden. For the first time, the Tengrist faith had no safe haven.
After the death of Aibek Khan, the Kazakhs found themselves overextended, and when that became apparent, rebellions broke out all over their frontier, Prussia included. These rebellions were quickly joined by invasions from neighboring countries, and after the Kazakhs were pushed out of Europe, the great powers came together to divide the spoils. Despite Prussia's contributions in the War of Coadunation and their ancient affiliation with the Severian people, their territory was divided between Sweden, the Severian Empire, and Poland-Hungary.
For the next century, they found themselves subject to scapegoating, settlement, Christianization, cultural torpor, and destructive territorial wars in which they gained nothing. A break came in 1905, when Prussia received its independence at the end of the Pragmatic War. Its new territory, ceded by Sweden and Severia, was much reduced, but it included Gotland, which would prove important.
Prussia's misfortune would peak with its abandonment in the Patriotic War, when the Empire of Ruthenia offered to protect it, only to use it as a distraction in the war so that it could focus on its strategic goals further south. Severia quickly occupied it, and its treatment of the Prussians has now been recognized as genocide. After the war, the nation was completely unstable, and the Prussian Civil War began in 1960. Estland emerged from its exclave along the Gulf of Finland, which had been heavily Christianized under Swedish rule. The radically secular Nacionalis Karis, wanting to preserve the Prussian nation over the Tengrist religion, took over the mainland, creating Ventaland. The Tengrists fled to Gotland, and the rest is history.
Since then, Gotland has fallen under the wing of Sweden, and living standards here have steadily improved. The Swedish navy makes avid use of Svetrosa's port, and they've been more than happy to share arms and military training, encouraging a defensive mindset in Gotland's political circles. However, historical trauma has played a major role in deciding the course of things, and tensions with the island's Christian population has been the logical outcome of Gotland's pride and paranoia.
Gotland's next general election is being held in 2008. Already, the stakes look high, with many growing tired of the status quo, and others seeing the end of the status quo as an existential threat. After having spent so much time reporting on the byzantine politics of Germany, I am still processing how I managed to overlook this country for so long. Now, you can be certain that, come the elections, I will be watching this country closely, pen in hand and fingers crossed.
