Nowhere is this transformation more complete than in the information technology field. In a 13th century castle towering above the bustling medieval capital, Tallinn, ministers arrive for weekly Cabinet meetings clutching mobile phones and electronic diaries, but there is hardly a piece of paper in sight. Instead, they sit behind sleek, flat-screen computers, sign in with electronic ID cards and adopt new laws with the click of a mouse.
Tex Vertmann, the government's IT adviser, says paperless Cabinet meetings save both money -- about $100,000 a year in reduced photocopying costs alone -- and time. "Before we started with the new system in 1990, Cabinet meetings took up to 12 hours. Now they usually last and hour, with the shortest one taking just 14 minutes."
The center-right government, which has toyed with the idea of rebranding the country "e-stonia,? is now seeking to extend the paperless society to all branches of public administration. A one-stop shop portal allows the public to file their tax-returns online and last year 130,000 people did just that.
The private sector has also got in on the act. Over half the population banks online, Internet cafes have sprouted up across Tallinn and free Wi-Fi connections are available in hotels, bookshops and coffee shops.
It is all a far cry from the late 1980s when it took up to four years to get a land line and computers were almost non-existent. Now more than 70 percent of the population owns cell phones and 40 percent has a home terminal with online access.
Not everyone is taken in by the government's bold attempt at e-government.
Priit Hobemagi, editor of the daily Eesti Paevaleht newspaper, says that "talk about Estonia being at the cutting edge of IT development is good for its self-confidence but it has yet to materialize in reality. After a quick 100 meters sprint, now we are left standing."
Most business leaders and foreign commentators, however, are more gushing about the Baltic state's IT revolution.
"Their economy has been transformed from a stagnant Soviet backwater into a bubbling capitalist cauldron -- a kind of herring-loving Hong Kong," wrote the Financial Times in 1998.
In a survey of 82 governments, the World Economic Forum placed Estonia eighth in terms of e-usage and ahead of Spain, Italy, Luxembourg, Greece and Portugal in terms of network readiness.
The government prefers to compare itself to Finland, home of Nokia and just an hour and a half away by hydrofoil, but it is happy to share its experience with other former communist countries. Slovenia is toying with the idea of copying Estonia's "paperless Cabinet" example and Albania, Armenia and Uzbekistan are just some of the countries that have sent officials to train at Tallinn's "e-governance academy."
Despite the IT hype, Estonia is still a poor country by European standards. Purchasing power is 40 percent of the EU average, unemployment is nudging toward 10 percent and at 65, and life expectancy for men is 10 years less than the EU mean. But with sound economic policies -- inflation is low, growth rates are over three times the European average and education spending is the highest in the EU-25 -- Estonians are slowly catching up with their Western neighbors.
Some critics are worried that EU membership will to stifle Estonian competitiveness and tie the "Baltic tiger" economy up in red tape.
"EU economic policy is fundamentally outdated, backward and undemocratic," says Martin Helme, one of the leaders of the 'no' campaign in the run up to last September's referendum on EU membership. "How can we grow faster if we take on higher tariffs, higher taxes and more bureaucracy?"
With low corporate taxation, soaring growth rates and an almost messianic belief in the free-market, it is easy to see why many Estonians look to London, Dublin and Washington for inspiration rather than Brussels, Paris or Berlin.
Prime Minister Juhan Parts, who only entered politics 18 months ago after a stint as the country's top auditor, acknowledges the EU is not perfect and will have to become more open and less bureaucratic in future.
"We are very much against stupid, unnecessary rules and they exist," he told United Press International, promising to adopt a 'British' line on economic matters.
More than two-thirds of Estonians voted to join the EU in September's nationwide poll, but there is still deep skepticism toward the Brussels-based club. Says Lauri Ojamets, a 21-year-old student at the Estonian IT College: "I don't like the idea of the EU. It's like a big bear eating a rabbit and I don't want another version of the USSR coming back."
Likening Brussels to Moscow infuriates the normally unflappable Parts.
"It is total bullshit to compare the Soviet Union to the European Union," he said in an interview. "The Soviet Union was a totalitarian superpower, whereas the EU is a democratic, human values-based union."
Nevertheless, fear of Russia, which occupied Estonia for 50 years until 1991 and borders the country to the east, is palpable on the streets of Tallinn. During the EU referendum campaign, both "no" and "yes" supporters played the Moscow card to attract voters. "Will we give up our independence again?" asked one anti-EU poster depicting a handshake between a man with a red star on his sleeve and another wearing the EU circle of stars on his cuffs. In the other camp, a pro-EU placard showed Europe with the word "jah," or yes, written on it, and Russia with "ei," or no. The text read: "Choose a more secure Estonia. Say yes to the EU."
Much to the relief of Brussels, Estonians did say "yes" on Sept. 14. But most did so not out of love for the EU but because they realized that for a small country surrounded by powerful neighbors, there was little alternative to joining the ever-expanding European club.
Quelle: MENAFN, 01.05.2004
