Russia is an ‘unpredictable neighbour’, 33-year-old Ruta says, and that is frightening. The concert pianist, en route in the center of Riga, wears a long black coat against the freezing cold: winter is still in full swing in northern Latvia. She is concerned about the escalating conflict in eastern Ukraine. The Donbas may seem distant from the Baltic coast, but in Russia’s neighboring countries, the conflict feels eerily close. “The Russians do what they want in Ukraine. What if they think the same about the Baltic countries?’
It stands near the Latvian Freedom Monument: a stone column with a woman holding three stars in her hands, not to be missed if you leave the winding streets of the old town. The monument was erected in the 1930s for the independence of Latvia. The country, together with neighboring countries Estonia and Lithuania, wrested from the Russian Empire after the First World War. Barely twenty years later, they were re-incorporated, this time by the Soviet Union. They only became independent again when that communist multi-ethnic state collapsed in 1991.
The geopolitical position of the Baltic countries is very different from Ukraine: all three have been members of NATO and the EU since 2004. But Russia’s painful past rears its ugly head when it comes to the neighboring country’s aggressive stance. Especially after Putin’s speech last Monday, in which he not only denied Ukraine’s right to exist, but questioned the political order of Eastern Europe as a whole. After all, the Russian president says that the collapse of the Soviet Union is the greatest catastrophe of the 20th century.
turn back clock
“It’s the 21st century. But Putin thinks like someone from the 19th century,” says businesswoman Agnese (38), who wants to say something about the conflict but prefers not to give her last name. She has her own fish export business, today she sits on a bench next to the monument while her two small children play between tufts of leftover snow. She echoes the words of Latvian President Egils Levits, who in January accused Russia of thinking ‘imperialist’. They can’t turn back the clock, he added firmly. Nevertheless, politicians in the Baltic countries are becoming nervous about the escalations in Ukraine and the large troop build-up along the borders.
Especially now that the 30,000 Russian soldiers stationed in Belarus for a major military exercise do not seem to leave after the official end of the exercise on February 20. The Baltic countries and Poland are therefore extra wary. From Belarus to the Russian exclave of Kaliningrad it is only 100 kilometers via the so-called ‘Suwałki corridor’, the border between Poland and Lithuania. It is NATO’s Achilles heel in this part of Europe and can cut the Baltic countries, which are home to about 4,500 NATO soldiers, from their allies.
The deputy defense minister from neighboring Lithuania is already anticipating a long-term change because of the troops in Belarus, he said in an interview, regardless of the outcome of the current conflict in Ukraine. “This is the new reality for the Baltic countries.” Requests from the three countries to strengthen NATO’s eastern flanks have been granted: US President Joe Biden announced on Tuesday the sending of additional troops and fighter jets.
Scaremongering
Then there is the fear that Russia will act as the protector of the Russian-speaking community in the Baltic countries, as it did in Ukraine before. This group is the largest in Latvia with about 37 percent of the population, in cities the percentage is even higher. That can be heard on the main market of Riga, where Russian is the bell. Next to a frozen canal that leads to the river Daugava are four large halls that used to serve as zeppelin hangars. Now it sells everything from winter clothes, vodka, pickled vegetables and fresh fish, with flapping gills gasping on a mound of ice.
60-year-old sea captain Artur (no last name), bright blue eyes between his cap and face mask, thinks the fear of Russia scares Latvian politicians. Putin is being demonized by the West. But the Ukrainians provoked him.’ He sees that in the Russian-language media he follows. He also knows that you hear different things there than in the Latvian media. “We live in two different worlds.”
He feels like a second-class citizen in Latvia because he speaks Russian. ‘I had to apply for Latvian nationality and fill in where I came from. I was born here! The same thing happens in Latvia as with the Russian speakers in Ukraine, only without blood.’ That doesn’t mean he wants to go to Russia. ‘Latvia is my country. And I don’t want the Russians occupying us. Nobody wants that.’
Agnese, with her fish export business, is not reassured. “I worry about my family and myself. More NATO troops will only attract attention. What if they see it as provocation?’ And sanctions also wreak havoc outside of Russia. ‘As soon as the payment system is shut down, my company suffers – after all, there is economic cooperation,’ she says, wiping her son’s snot nose. She hopes for a quick peace. ‘Behind that big politics are ordinary people everywhere who want to lead a normal life.’
