Russian Aggression Brings High Anxiety to Strategic Sliver of Europe

Suwalki, a city of almost 70,000, sits along the 45-mile corridor of NATO territory between two Russian military strongholds. To the southeast is Belarus, a close Russian ally that has served as a base for its invasion of Ukraine. To the northwest is Kaliningrad, a chunk of Russia that was disconnected from the rest of the country by the breakup of the Soviet Union.

Western military strategists call it the Suwalki Gap. What worries them is that Russia, having seized the Crimean peninsula in 2014 and invaded Ukraine this year, might resort to force to try to take over the border region, which would link Kaliningrad with Belarus.

Threatening comments from the Russian and Belarus governments have increased anxiety in the region, as have moves such as a bill recently introduced in Russia’s parliament to revoke Moscow’s 1991 recognition of Lithuania’s independence from the Soviet Union.

The Ukraine invasion has sparked similar unease in other nations surrounding Russia that for decades either were allied with Moscow or saw little threat of attack. Finland and Sweden have applied for NATO membership, while Kazakhstan and some other former-Soviet republics in Central Asia that remained in Russia’s orbit have edged away from Moscow, in part due to wariness over its reliability.

The Suwalki Gap region has a long history of conflict. Napoleon’s armies crossed it while invading and retreating from Russia. During both World Wars, it saw fierce fighting. When World War II ended, it fell under the control of the Soviet Union, and Kaliningrad was designated Russian territory.

Today, although military and intelligence officials don’t see an immediate military threat from Russia, they worry about its aggression and unpredictable behavior.

Ewa Sidorek,

a former deputy mayor of Suwalki, said many locals got scared when Russia attacked Ukraine, and some remain shaken. She said one friend keeps a suitcase packed and her gas tank filled in case she needs to escape. Even more unnerving is that people in other parts of Poland think the region is already under attack.

“People call and ask how the war is here,” said Ms. Sidorek. Although the area is quite affordable for tourists, she said, visitor numbers are down significantly this year, “Tourists think it’s dangerous,” she said.

Suwalki Mayor

Czeslaw Renkiewicz

predicts tourists will eventually return, but he worries that talk of Russian aggression will deter investors. When Polish President

Andrzej Duda

recently met near Suwalki with Lithuanian President

Gitanas Nauseda,

the mayor told Mr. Duda that local lumber, furniture and manufacturing companies might eventually need state support.

In nearby Goldap, a town of 19th century Prussian buildings less than three miles from the Kaliningrad border, hotels have faced cancellations, and the spring-water health center has fielded questions about restrictions, said

Zuzanna Rozmyslowska-Wasilewska,

a manager at the regional tourist center. “A lot of apartments are for sale now,” she said.

Across the border in Lithuania,

Sandra Kvietinskaite,

who manages a municipal office supporting startups in the small city of Marijampole, has an evacuation plan ready. After Russia attacked Ukraine, she said, she checked that her parents’ passports were valid and packed bags, which she still keeps ready.

In an emergency, she said, she would take her parents to Germany to stay with relatives, and she would go to Norway, where she once worked. “I hope we’re safe,” she said. “I cross my fingers.”

Retired Polish Army Col.

Kazimierz Kuczynski,

who lives in Suwalki, is less worried. He said Russia has expended so many munitions in Ukraine that it lacks resources to attack. “We can sleep peacefully,” he said.

Andrzej Sek,

a lecturer in internal security at the PUZ State Vocational University in Suwalki, runs an annual conference on the Suwalki Gap. Meetings have addressed issues such as a hybrid war involving cyberattacks, sabotage and other unconventional tactics.

“Today, I don’t see a big threat to Poland, Lithuania or the Suwalki Gap,” he said. “What comes in the near future, who can say?”

Anxiety in the region increased in June when Russia and Lithuania sparred over a train line running through Lithuania that connects Kaliningrad to continental Russia.

For decades, the tracks were in Soviet territory, but the 1991 breakup of the U.S.S.R. and Lithuania’s independence turned the tracks into an international route. When the Baltic states entered the European Union in 2004, Russia and Lithuania agreed to terms for the train’s operation. Roughly 250 Russian trains crossed Lithuania each month last year, according to Lithuanian Railways.

EU sanctions on Moscow since February have complicated that arrangement. In June, Lithuanian authorities began enforcing EU restrictions by forbidding the shipment of some banned products on the train line. The resulting standoff temporarily halted all Russian rail traffic to Kaliningrad.

Moscow accused Lithuania of imposing a blockade on Kaliningrad and threatened an unspecified response. As tensions mounted in July, Lithuania said it was only enforcing EU rules, while Germany and some other members urged it not to inflame the situation. In late July, Lithuania and EU allies agreed to an approach meant to avoid conflict, but citizens were rattled.

“There are Russian trains running through Lithuania. Obviously, we’re nervous,” said

Migle Onaityte,

a 19-year-old resident of Pilviskiai, near the train line.

Many Russian trains are escorted by Lithuanian helicopters to ensure they don’t stop, and that nothing is put on or taken off a train. Lithuanian border guards now fly four times as many patrols as they did in 2020, according to an interior ministry spokeswoman, and other helicopters take part in military exercises.

“People thought the helicopters were Russian,” said Ms. Onaityte. “It’s scary.”

“People are also afraid of Belarus,” said

Davydas Jasaitis,

a friend of Ms. Onaityte’s who was recently spending the day with her and other friends at Lake Vistytis, which forms part of Lithuania’s border with Kaliningrad.

Behind the visitor center, a road led to a dock where families splashed in the water. A short distance away, behind a tall fence topped with razor wire, a guard tower marked Russian territory.

Suwalki native

Tadeusz Szturgulewski,

88 years old, was 5 years old when Soviet troops invaded Poland in 1939, days after Nazi Germany invaded from the west. Two years later, Germans stormed through to invade the Soviet Union, and three years after that, Soviet forces returned on their way to Berlin.

Mr. Szturgulewski, an activist in Poland’s anti-communist Solidarity movement during the 1980s, said he would grab a rifle to fight if Moscow’s forces return.

“The Germans were much more civilized than the Russians,” he said. “The Nazis would just shoot you, but the Russians would torture you and then kill you.”

Russia’s attack on Ukraine has focused attention in Suwalki on civil-defense preparations, even among people who don’t fear an invasion. Ms. Sidorek, the former deputy mayor, said the region has written protocols, but plans aren’t publicized. “Most people have no idea about alarms or procedures,” she said.

Mr. Renkiewicz, the mayor, said that earlier this year he ordered a survey of basements and parking facilities that could serve as shelters, but that he didn’t publicize results to avoid increasing anxiety. He said residents should be educated about the significance of different alarms from the city’s 19 civil-defense sirens.

Semiannual visits by U.S. and European NATO troops to a base about 55 miles away, he said, have offset some anxiety. Troops have participated in summer picnics and Christmas festivities, bringing singing groups and introducing themselves.

“People see that we don’t just say that NATO is here, but they’re really here,” Mr. Renkiewicz said.

Write to Daniel Michaels at daniel.michaels@wsj.com