But if you look more closely, there are clues to be found of the recent soviet legacy. The shelves of books in my office in Russian, including the works of Karl Marx. The presence, still, of a few Russian-speaking senior academics scattered across various departments in the University. The derelict hulks of Soviet collective farms scattered around the Estonian countryside.
And then there are the stories told by colleagues, especially Margit and Endla, both of whom are in their 40's and thus had their academic careers straddle the shift from the Soviet era to Estonian independence. Endla talks about eating her first banana at the age of 30 after getting a scholarship to study in Scandinavia. There are also various features peculiar to the Soviet academic system, some have died out since and others have persisted. During Soviet rule it was, for example, impossible to get a phD in English at the University of Tartu. English was considered a poltically sensitive subject, so the only PhD's granted were from institutions in Russia on which a closer eye could be kept ... . Another peculiar feature of the time was the practice of so-called 'forward Marxism.' Academics working in politically innocuous fields, such as philosophy of science, were pretty much left to publish without outside interference. But to be on the safe side, these academics would typically insert a few remarks at the beginning and end of each paper saying how much their work owed to Marxist thought and upheld Marxist ideals.
One practice that has persisted is that of publishing conference proceedings before the actual conference has taken place. This struck me as rather odd, since it does not give those presenting a chance to modify their papers in response to audience comments before having them published. It was explained to me that this was a hold-over from the Soviet era when conference proceedings were pre-published so the authorities could vet the content prior to the conference taking place.
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