The human twists of the war in Ukraine are gut-wrenching. 48-year-old Lithuanian Aleksej Zanemanski, once a thriving businessman, is fighting an uphill battle for the right to live with the wife he loves unconditionally but who happens to be Russian.

The couple met while on vacation in 2019 and fell in love at first sight. Lilija (the name has been changed upon the couple’s request) is a Muslim Tatar, originally from a tiny Siberian village.

They married in Vilnius in 2023, but because of the stiff EU entry restrictions for Russians, the newlyweds took a big loop to travel to the Lithuanian capital: from Tyumen to Moscow, then to Istanbul and to Berlin, from where Aleksej drove his wife home to Lithuania.

Despite their long-term relationship and submitted evidence, the Lithuanian authorities – the Migration Department and the courts – do not want to see the woman in the country, claiming that someone who worked, even in a low-level position, for a Russian bank in Russia many years ago can pose a threat to Lithuania’s national security, as she might have been exploited by Russian intelligence. Without hesitation, the Migration Department bluntly told Aleksej: “If you want to live with your wife, move to Russia.”

In one of the last court hearings, he was flabbergasted by intrusive personal questions from the department official: “Were you her first man? I mean did she lose her virginity to you?” Dumbfounded, Zanemanski stuttered, “Yes, I was”, before the official followed up with: “Do you have any evidence of that?”

Some of his friends turned their backs on him, telling him that because of the war in Ukraine, he should have had a “patriotic” marriage – with a Lithuanian or Ukrainian woman, but not a Russian.

“I cannot believe this is happening here, in a free country, Lithuania,” Zanemanski told bne IntelliNews.

Going too far? 

Clearly, it is a bad time to have anything to do with Russia or Russians. Although it is widely acknowledged that the Baltic States, situated near Russia — a country engaged in a series of hybrid wars against countries in the former Soviet region — must remain vigilant and prepared for any contingency, some argue that the three small countries may have gone too far in restricting the rights of their local Russian-speaking populations.

When numerous cemeteries of fallen WWII Soviet soldiers, and monuments and obelisks commemorating them were torn down in the three Baltic States, very few questioned the morality of the demolitions. 

Then there are the bathroom politicians – insulting and enmity-inciting anti-Russian slogans abound on the doors and the walls of Vilnius bar toilets. Many of them smear all Russians, not Putin.

Ironically, the Russian language is being replaced with other languages in local schools, defying the Baltics’ new reality – with the influx of over 230,000 Ukrainians, most of whom speak Russia, the three countries have never been so exposed to the Russian language.

“The line between actions driven by logic and those driven by fear or panic seems often blurred to me,” a Lithuanian lawmaker told bne IntelliNews on the condition of anonymity.

In the first eight months of 2024, citing national security concerns, Lithuania’s Migration Department rejected nearly 36,000 residence and work permit applications from foreigners and cancelled 11,500 temporary residence permits, which is 3.3 times more than during the same period in 2023.

According to Lithuania’s State Security Department (SSD), Russian intelligence activities have reached their highest levels since the country regained independence. Belarusian and Chinese intelligence services are also active in the region.

Eliminating Russian language and culture 

The authorities’ actions have led to speculation that some political hawks are using the war as a tool to eliminate the Russian language and culture from Lithuania. 

Dmitrij Ikonikov, councillor of the Visaginas municipality in northeastern Lithuania, which has a large Russian minority, told bne IntelliNews: “I believe many things point to this issue. Whether it’s the push to eliminate Russian from our schools or the refusal to allow Russian singers regardless of their views to perform in Lithuania, the display of anti-Russian slogans and offensive inscriptions in our public places is flawed and extreme.”

Last September, in a YouTube chat with Vytautas Sinica of Lithuania’s rightwing National Alliance party, Algis Ramanauskas, a celebrity TV host and producer, made hostile remarks about Russian speakers and those who engage with Russian culture, suggesting they should be “deprived of their children and then shot”. 

A backlash ensued, and he apologised. It was one of the rare cases when the Lithuanian authorities reacted. Ramanauskas' comments were condemned by Viktorija Cmilyte-Nielsen, the then speaker of the Lithuanian parliament, and the then justice minister Ewelina Dobrowolska.

“Clearly, over the last ten years, our youth has had the narrative that anything Russian is inherently bad foisted on them. So yes, let’s be honest, we are witnessing various manifestations of Russophobia in the country. But it is nothing new, as historically, during times of conflagrations, certain groups of the population – not only in Lithuania – have faced increased pressure, risk and even annihilation,” Ikonikov said.

He was the only one of a dozen local politicians of Russian descent who agreed to speak to bne IntelliNews.

“We are afraid.” This is the common response bne IntelliNews heard from local Russian speakers approached for the story.

Voting ban 

Estonia’s ruling coalition, consisting of the liberal centre-right Reform Party, the centre-left Social Democrats (SDE) and the liberal Eesti 200 party, is seeking to ban non-citizens from voting in local elections, which are scheduled for October 2025.

Legally, this would impact any permanent resident who arrived in Estonia from outside the EU. However, the primary targets are Russian and Belarusian passport holders, who number around 83,000. They belong to a Russian-speaking minority that makes up nearly a quarter of Estonia's 1.4mn population.

The recently published report "Racial Discrimination in Estonia 2024” by Estonia’s equality commissioner, Christian Veske, sheds light on the challenges faced by non-white individuals living in Estonia. These issues include exclusion, insults, micro-aggressions, and instances of discrimination in public spaces, workplaces and even within state and local government institutions. Often, the country’s Russian speakers are affected.

Out of frustration and hopelessness, Zanemanski joined the party the country’s intelligence deems pro-Russian – he did not win the parliamentary seat but infuriated many, including some of the judges looking at his wife’s case.

“Are you supporting Russia?” one of them asked him in the recent sitting.

“No, but I love my Russian wife, and you are undermining my constitutional rights,” he shot back.

In addition to denying her application, Lithuanian authorities imposed a five-year entry ban on his wife on the same grounds – a threat to public order and national security. If she attempts to enter Lithuania with a Schengen visa from another EU country, she could face up to two years in prison.

Brutal comments 

Some commentators were brutal to Alexej after articles on the case were published in Lithuania media.

On an article on his fight to bring his wife to Lithuania, a commentator named Sigita wrote: “I can only say this: someone born and raised in the forest will always look toward the forest. Similarly, you can’t get the ‘Great Russian’ mindset out of a Russian.”

Ramunas, another commentator, sneered at him: “The family should be reunited — send the vatnik [pro-Russian] to his beloved in Rozzia [Russia].” Another said: “Women have always been Russia’s weapon.”

Aleksej has sold his apartment to cover legal fees and remains resolute in pursuing the case. In October, the Supreme Court ordered a review, citing procedural violations and insufficient investigation by the SSD.

Despite the emotional and financial strain, Aleksej and Lilija remain determined to fight for their future in Lithuania.

“I love Lithuania. I love the people. My old father is bedridden, and I have to change his diapers daily,” Aleksej confessed to bne IntelliNews, adding: “The process has been nothing short of humiliating. It is a mockery of my wife’s dignity, of our marriage, of our family. They dehumanise her because she holds a Russian passport.”

Dmitrij Ikonikov, the Visaginas councillor, is convinced that understanding the language and the culture of the enemy could make Lithuania stronger, not weaker.

“Looking at Lithuania’s history, despite tensions, some degree of collaboration always existed. I still believe this approach should be preserved. Times change, and Russia may change too — not necessarily for the worse. Even in challenging times, I firmly believe that open-minded citizens are better equipped than narrow-minded ones,” Ikonikov said.