EST-onian aesthetics

If you watched the Tallinn Eurovision last week, you probably saw the signs proclaiming, "Welcome to EST-onia." That's not so interesting. What is interesting is how a few weeks earlier this banal phrase unleashed a scary episode of public self-flagellation.

The story starts innocently enough.

A year ago, a few Estonian business associations asked the government to see what it could do to raise the country's profile abroad. The Laar government accommodated the request with an ambitious Estonia Recognition campaign.

The media hailed the project as a vehicle for new trade and investment for Estonia. One hopeful bureaucrat said every kroon spent would be returned 120-fold.

Advertising Director Evelin Int-Lambot was appointed to head the Brand Estonia initiative. Her marketing team would define and package Estonian traits that would strike a chord in foreign markets.

Pundits noted a potential conflict of interest arising from Int-Lambot's relationship with then Foreign Minister Toomas Hendrik Ilves, long a vocal proponent of a re-imagineered Estonia.

The project soon ran into problems. An EMORI survey revealed the natives had contrary views about the country. They saw Estonia as a poor Nordic country, obsessed with nature, mobile phones and personal appearance.

The search for an identity quickly snowballed out of control.

Media used the initiative for creative inspiration. Why not change the flag to have a Nordic appearance? Maybe the name of the country should be a Western European sounding Estland? At least the anthem should sound different from Finland's anthem? Is the national pastime singing or skiing?

No surprise that the first move of the Kallas government was to kill this passionate yet misguided debate. Even Int-Lambot said the project had "lost focus."

The branding campaign was scaled back to focus on business necessity.

It was into this context that "Welcome to EST-onia" was introduced. The logo is one element of the comprehensive conceptual and visual strategy to sell Estonia. The phrase would appear on products, publications, postmarks and maybe even police cars.

And then it gets weird. The negative reaction to the logo dominated national attention for a week.

Web portals set records for user hits and comments. Estonian newspaper reporter Rein Sikk asked Int-Lambot in an interview what it was like to be Estonia's most hated person.

Journalists and public alike could not swallow that a generic greeting could cost taxpayers a million euros. They panned the discoish design, the strange spelling of "EST-onia," and the use of the English language.

Brand Estonia fired back with heavy spin. The media were accused of misleading the public. The millions went to the entire marketing strategy - cheap by any standard. But lots of people still want their money back.

It's hard to believe that money alone led to the sound and fury. Two possible explanations have surfaced in the press.

First, it all happened behind closed doors. This arrangement is fine for business, but a national brand demands public participation.

Estonians agree that a brand might be useful, but the media and an elite obsessed with rethinking national symbols are viewed with suspicion. The public doesn't like the imposition of new symbols, even if only a marketing gimmick.

Second, the logo doesn't resonate with Estonians. The surveys find few shared views of the country beyond brutal cynicism. This logo might seem like a good comprise, but even the idea of welcoming the world might be too radical for a country accustomed to seeing only the worst in itself.

As one joker suggests, a better slogan might be "Returned Alive from Estonia."

Clearly, the lesson of the logo is that nation branding is a tricky deal. "Welcome to EST-onia" reveals a country deeply divided and ill at ease with itself.