Observations on Latvia

“Under capitalism man exploits man; under socialism the reverse is true”

Polish Proverb

I confess I’ve been putting this one off, hoping that another week would help me get my mind ‘round the puzzle of the Baltics. And maybe once ‘round the Baltics, then ‘round the rest of Eastern Europe, and then round the puzzle of humanity. But it’s not to be.

Latvia, like its neighbors Estonia and Lithuania, has spent most of its recorded history subjugated by one bigger neighbor or another. Riga, in fact, was founded by twenty shiploads of crusaders led by Albert von Buxhoeveden on orders from Pope Innocent III to Christianize the Baltics. Up to this point, the Latvians were having none of it, and had a habit of jumping in the Daugava after being baptized to “wash it off.”


Following several centuries of being subject to one foreign power or another (Sweden, Poland, and Prussia each had their turn, until Peter the Great established unequivocal Russian influence in 1709), Latvia had the opportunity to declare its independence after World War I.

This came to an end with the signing of the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact between the USSR and Nazi Germany in 1939. The pact essentially divided Eastern Europe into spheres of influence between the two powers. On threat of military invasion, the Soviets demanded (and got) a new Latvian government, which proceeded to apply for admission into the Soviet union.

The 1940’s were bleak for the Latvians. In its first year, the Soviet government began the forced deportation of more than 35,000 of the Latvian intelligentsia to Siberia. A year later, when the Germans invaded the Baltics, the Nazi agenda began the systematic elimination of Gypsies and Jews. In all, over 85,000 Latvians were claimed by the holocaust. During the subsequent Soviet invasion in 1944, more than 160,000 Latvians fled the country. Following the “repatriation” of the Latvian SSR from Germany, the Soviet government deported even more ethnic Latvians and began the process of Sovietization, collectivizing farms, and migrating nearly a half a million ethnic Russians into the country.


With the collapse of the USSR in 1991, Latvia regained its sovereignty, and has now been independent longer than at any point in its history. Its streets are populated with cars from all over the western world (I even saw a Dodge here…), but the Ladas which are ubiquitous across Russia are curiously absent here. Until the recent financial crisis, Riga was something of a boom town: still a tourist destination for Russians, but eager to embrace the West. Happy ending, right?

But is that the whole story?

Suffice that while there is certainly a sizeable Latvian population in Riga, ethnic Russians (many moved in purposely during the Soviet occupation) comprise the majority. When the Baltic States seceded from the USSR in 1991, most of these Russians remained, being invested in the land by birth or marriage or property. So, is the story of Riga the story as told by the Latvian Museum of the Occupation? Perhaps. What then to do with the remaining (majority) of Russians? Where is their part in the tale?

Trying to comprehend Latvia gives me a glimpse into what has happened elsewhere in the world: Bosnia, Kosovo, Kashmir, Palestine. With ethnic groups calling the same territory home subtle dislike can turn to distrust. Add a failing economy, a failing government, one or more religions with exclusive claim to God? Add some patriotism, a demagogue or two, maybe some stockpiles of weapons? While the full set of ingredients for a Balkan style powderkeg aren't here, it's easy to see that things could go another way.

No, readers, this place is just another reminder to me that trust is saner than mistrust; inclusion better than exclusion; love better than hate.

Next time: Speaking of the Balkans...