by Angelo Palmeri
Since Russia initiated a war of aggression against Ukraine a few years ago, the moral compass in Estonia—and easily extendable to all of the Baltics—has been defined by one’s opinion about the war, who the victim is, and who the aggressor is.
Like it or not, anything said on this matter will be screened, interpreted, weighed, and finally judged. With a catch: there are no grey zones, no “ifs,” no “buts,” nothing in between.
The Baltic moral compass on this topic is black or white.
This applies both to locals (especially those of ethnic Russian background) and to foreigners. Even stances such as “I have no opinion” or “I don’t talk about politics” might be deemed suspicious, if not even a sign of dormant Kremlinism. From a pragmatic point of view, one might be better off lying about their real opinions—even neutral ones—than expressing them openly or in a cryptic way.
And this is something you would expect from an experienced and calculating individual such as the Líder Máximo of the Estonian Football Association (EJL), no less than Mr. Aivar Pohlak.
What exactly happened?
To reach the casus belli that sparked a domino effect of unseen proportions for the finances of the EJL and Estonian football, we need to rewind briefly to autumn 2024.
After announcing his retirement from football, with his last club being JK Kalev Tallinn (the same club he is president of), Ragnar Klavan declared something unprecedented in Estonian football: Aivar Pohlak, the undisputed ruler of the game, would have a challenger in the June 2025 EJL elections.
Klavan launched the gauntlet, presenting his team and a program during a six-month campaign that even saw the endorsement of his former manager at Liverpool, Jürgen Klopp.
Pohlak? Silent. Absent. No program, no team, nothing. In football terms, Pohlak chose to sit back in defence, soak up the pressure, and quietly work in the background through the patronage network he has cultivated over 30 years of unrivalled dominance.
As election day drew closer, Estonian media tried to tally up which clubs might support Klavan and which remained loyal to Pohlak. From the start, the count did not look favourable to Klavan—the first public challenger of such stature. For a while, it gave people (including your columnist) hope that football in Estonia would finally cease to be “Pohlak’s thing.” Something, to borrow from my Sicilian background, close to cosa nostra—“our thing”—minus the bloodshed.
And like omertà, a code of silence prevails. Everyone knows, no one speaks. When asked who they would vote for, some clubs refused to reply, fearing backlash if the eventual winner was not the one they named.
This is not bad for what is essentially a non-profit association whose voting assembly is composed of clubs paying a €200 membership fee. Because just being part of the football pyramid is not enough—you must pay to have a say, on top of the €1,100 and more in seasonal licence fees per team.
This is how many clubs (including my own, Rumori Calcio Tallinn) were excluded from influencing the future of football in this country.
But “someone” could count on multiple “familiar” votes.
One person, many votes
Take FC Flora, run by Aivar Pohlak’s son Pelle. They could bring several votes with just one person: FC Flora as Jalgpalliklubi FCF MTÜ, FC Flora Academy as Jalgpalliklubi FCF Jalgpallikool, and even Kotka Staadion MTÜ, the non-profit behind Flora’s football complex. Add to that FC Kose, another club run by Pelle, and FC Viljandi.
The Viljandi case deserves special mention. As Klavan pointed out on the Betsafe podcast (reported by Soccernet.ee), in April 2025 the club suddenly changed its board member from Aivar Lillevere to… Pelle Pohlak. The absurdity is that “FC Viljandi” had not been active for at least a decade. Yet its official email address was Flora’s, despite the club being registered to a Viljandi residence.
By late May, the election race was heating up. Aivar remained low-profile, while Pelle did the “dirty work,” giving carefully legalistic answers to the media.
A small triumph before another scandal
Before the election storm, Pohlak had time to savour a major achievement: he was elected to the UEFA Executive Committee.
To grasp the significance, this is the most powerful body in European football after the president. It decides on UEFA matters and elects the disciplinary organs that fine clubs and federations. Alongside him was also the controversial Italian FA chief Gabriele Gravina, a politician-in-sport widely criticised for blocking reform.
If ethical scrutiny were required before naming someone, questions would certainly arise. One could revisit Josimar’s 2017 investigative piece A Question of Ethics about unpaid taxes in the transfer of Raio Piiroja—an Estonian legend who, ironically, later declared full support for Aivar.
But soon after, another scandal broke. Nõmme United’s youth director accused Pohlak of pressuring the club on behalf of Flora (run by Pelle) to sign a binding document preventing Flora’s youth players from moving to United. Initially deemed possibly criminal, the case was dropped by the Prosecutor’s Office in September, but remains under review by the Competition Authority.
Once again, Pohlak senior stayed silent. Pelle cleaned up.
Election day
On 19 June, Pohlak won comfortably: 68 votes to 34. Sixty-seven percent backed him. Among his supporters was Viktor Levada, president of Flora’s biggest rival, FC Levadia—once a staunch critic of Pohlak, now apparently an ally.
Klavan, disappointed, thanked supporters and vowed this was not the end.
Finally, Pohlak spoke, adopting a conciliatory, almost papal tone: “From the very beginning it was clear this was going to be a path of confrontation… My worldview is that I don’t believe progress is possible through confrontation.”
But weeks later, in a rare interview with TV show Pealtnägija, Pohlak’s true views emerged. Asked why Russia remained a UEFA member, he replied: “Because it is a UEFA member.” Pressed on whether he could propose their expulsion, he said: “Honestly I don’t know that, but I would state that would be a very strange proposal to make.”
He went further: “What is written in the papers is most likely not true.”
On Russian clubs still receiving €10 million from UEFA—including Gazprom-backed Zenit and army-backed CSKA—he offered a Schrödinger’s-cat-like answer: “Yes, it can be so… but certainly it can also be looked at from another angle.”
Consequences and scenarios
The fallout was immediate. Sponsors began to walk: ABC Motors, Corny, and possibly LHV, whose football debit card program channels 10 cents of purchase, no matter the amount, to Estonian clubs. LHV has already called for an urgent meeting with Pohlak to reassess cooperation.
Words cannot be taken back. The moral compass of Estonian society, shaped since 24 February 2022, leaves little space for ambiguity.
