Last Setos of Russia

Along the border of Russia and Estonia live the Setos, a Finno-Ugric people who absorbed cultural traits from both states and preserved pagan traditions. In Russia’s Pskov Oblast, only about a hundred Setos remain; most moved to Estonia under pressure from both Soviet and Russian authorities. Journalists from Novaya Vkladka visited Seto villages to see how the few who have stayed are living.(Russian Life did a cover story on the Setos in 2006).

Zaputye, once home to many Setos, now stands empty. Life continues in Sigovo, the main Seto village, though Seto residents now come only to work.

During Soviet times, Sigovo hosted celebrations unlike those in neighboring villages. The Setos formed a small Finno-Ugric ethnic group with their own faith and customs. For every holiday, elder Nikolai Tapper invited Tatyana Ogaryova, once the only Russian in the village.

In the 1980s, several dozen Seto families lived in Sigovo. After the 1990s began, they slowly moved to newly independent Estonia. When visa rules were introduced, departures sped up. By the 2002 census, only 11 people remained.

"By the end of the twentieth century," Ogaryova said, "our village had no permanent residents left. For a time, I lived here entirely alone, and wolves ran through the streets."

Ogaryova taught music in Sigovo. She recalled how the Seto elder Nikolai Tapper asked her to safeguard Setos’ cultural heritage. As they left, residents entrusted her with household items and cultural artifacts: traditional towels, linen clothing, jewelry, looms, and musical instruments.

For 35 years, she preserved a spontaneous museum of Setos culture inside a converted shed. Now, due to her age, she is handing her collection over to local ethnographic museums.

The Setos historically lived on lands now split between Russia and Estonia. Their language is closer to Estonian, with Finnish roots and Russian borrowings. Researchers estimate that no more than a hundred Setos in Russia still maintain their language and traditions; counting those with at least one Setos parent, the number rises to about 250. More than 2,000 Setos live in Estonia today.

Seto farms and villages once stood close to one another, forming a community. Today, no fully-Seto villages remain in Russia, only small settlements with at most five or six residents.

The origin of the Setos remains unclear and is debated among scholars. They were known as "poluvertsy" ("half-believers") in tsarist times and were classified as Estonians in the Soviet era. The Setos identified as Orthodox Christians, but honored spirits and kept folk beliefs: offering gifts to stones, embracing birch trees, and driving out “bad energy” by sitting on an aspen stump.

In the Russian Empire, authorities suspected them of paganism. After the Russian Revolution and collectivization, which the Setos resisted, deportations began. In Krasnoyarsk Krai, the ethnic village of Khaidak remains home to descendants of exiled Setos.

Ogaryova said she believes the hardships of collectivization, forced entry into collective farms, and the loss of livestock and land left Setos disillusioned with the system. Since then, she said, they stopped trusting authorities. Today’s Setos rarely discuss politics, even within families.

The Setos focused on preserving customs, including practical ones. Ogaryova said Seto traditions of farming, cattle raising, and flax production have largely disappeared.

Nina Vasilyevna Kirvis, a Setos woman, said that her family always spoke both Russian and Seto. She is fluent in both. With no written language, the Setos culture was passed orally, and children could learn only by immersion. Schooling in Seto was unavailable during the Soviet years and after, so Seto children attended Estonian schools, where Estonian was easier for them than Russian.

"I walked to the Estonian school as a child, about two, two and a half kilometers along a packed sled road. There were encounters with wolves, all sorts of things!" Kirvis said. Classes were entirely in Estonian, but among themselves, they spoke Seto, she says.

The Seto language varies by region. In Pskov, Seto speech contains more Russian borrowings; in Estonia, more Estonian ones.

Today, no villages in the Pskov Oblast have a Seto majority. In Tryntovo, where the Setos king and queen from Estonia visit each year to honor the local Estonian school memorial, only two Seto families remain. The Setos king and queen are chosen by open vote each August on Seto Kingdom Day. Their role is cultural: attending festivals and assemblies, without political authority.

Tryntovo village looks deserted: plots are overgrown, and grass covers the roads. Two houses stand at the edge of the settlement: one yellow, owned by Ennu Kadayamägi, and one white, where Edgar Janissoo and his mother, Vera, live.

Many Seto children once attended the school. Even after it closed, graduates returned to Tryntovo, turning it into a gathering place for the Seto community.

Edgar is a sturdy, close-cropped man in his early twenties. He speaks little Seto; his mother is Russian, and his Seto father is no longer in their lives. He once understood the language when visiting his grandmother, but now both he and his mother are forgetting it. Above their house fly two flags: the Russian tricolor and the banner of Russia’s 76th Guards Air Assault Division.

Until 2023, Edgar worked as a cashier at a supermarket in Pskov. He is now a grenadier-assault soldier in Russia’s War on Ukraine and is undergoing rehabilitation after a second serious injury.

Edgar says his stepfather was killed near Kursk exactly a year ago. “Russians and Setos are one people. This is a time when you have to fight, and I wouldn’t abandon Russia,” he said.

He holds dual Russian-Estonian citizenship and still has relatives in Estonia. He calls them occasionally, but they never discuss the war. He hasn’t traveled to Estonia recently, but said he hopes to go “after demobilization.” Still, Edgar said he would fight Estonians if ordered, despite his citizenship and family ties on the other side of the border.