Balticum

A personal Soviet memorabilia museum in Latvia

Fear and suspicion and Russophones in Latvia

On January 31, 2024

In language policy, Latvia, Russians in Latvia

We recently came across a New York Times article from late December writing of the plight of Russians who have never passed the language competency test and now risk losing their permanent resident status. In “In a Baltic Nation, Fear and Suspicion Stalk Russian Speakers” (published December 18, 2023, updated December 20, 2023), Andrew Higgins, reporting from Daugavpils and Rīga, begins:

The Russian-speaking widow was born in Latvia 63 years ago, when it was still a part of the Soviet Union, got married there and raised a family. She has never lived anywhere else.
So it came as a nasty surprise this fall when she received a curt official letter saying she had lost her rights to residency, a state pension and medical care. “You must leave the territory of the Republic of Latvia by Nov. 30, 2023,” she was informed.
With nowhere to go, the widow, Nina Marcinkevica, who has heart and lung problems and high blood pressure, said she collapsed from shock and spent the next three days in bed weeping.

The article goes on to paint this action as a product of Latvian fear of Russia, of fomenting against Russians in response to the invasion of Ukraine, and (our paraphrasing) using testing for basic fluency in Latvian, the sole official state language, as a litmus test of loyalty to Latvia.

Whose apartheid?

While Russia’s invasion of Ukraine was a precipitory factor for renewed pressure to insure language proficiency enforcement, Marcinkevica’s plight also represents a choice. For decades, many of Latvia’s Russophones have lived in a self-perpetuated Russophone bubble, shopping Russian-speaking stores, consuming Russian-language broadcast and printed media, getting by without needing to know a word of Latvian. The Kremlin and Russian media, on the other hand, would have us believe Russians’ fervent longings to join Latvian society are being actively repulsed by the Latvian state; they have denounced Latvia’s authorities repeatedly for marginalizing their Russian population and for creating state-sanctioned apartheid: RT, Vzgljad, Baltnews, Rubaltic, Rambler.ru, and Rueconomics, among others, have been complaining about Latvia’s “apartheid” regime in their headlines for years.

Three decades of choosing to not learn Latvian

Marcinkevica was born in 1960. Putting aside various declarations by Soviet Latvia et al. on the reclamation of sovereignty, the USSR recognized Latvia’s independence on September 6, 1991, thus she was 30 or 31 at the time. The only reason to not to learn the native language during the intervening 32 years since is not feeling a need to learn the “pig language”—as I was present to hear it on Latvian talk radio circa 1992. (My relatives interpreted for me.)

All that is required to maintain permanent residency is to demonstrate a basic knowledge of Latvian, which brings up the proficiency test. I looked at it years ago and it seemed to me that I could handily pass it with a refresher of high school ‘Spanish I’ were the test in Spanish. So, what are the specific testing requirements?

Language proficiency requirements

Technically, the applicant must demonstrate “A2” level proficiency in Latvian as a foreign language (from the perspective of the applicant). The A2 test as of this writing is available here (PDF). The applicant must achieve a passing score of 60% each in listening, reading, writing, and oral proficiency. Other than any essays or oral examinations, answers are multiple choice.

What is “A2” proficiency? From a description on the British consulate’s web site in Spain:

Level A2 corresponds to basic users of the language, i.e. those able to communicate in everyday situations with commonly-used expressions and elementary vocabulary. It is important to bear in mind that the Common European Framework of Reference for Languages (CEFRL) is the system that defines and explains the different levels of oral and written expression and comprehension for languages such as English [and in this case, Latvian]. It consists of 6 levels of reference: three blocks (A or basic user, B or independent user and C or proficient user), which are in turn divided into two sublevels, 1 and 2.
SKILLS AT LEVEL A2
One of the questions you might ask yourself when you read this information is, what language competences characterise a person who can prove they have a level A2 in English [or any other language]? The CEFRL specifies the following:
He/she can understand sentences and frequently-used expressions related to the areas of experience most immediately relevant to him/her (e.g. very basic personal and family information, shopping, places of interest, employment, etc.).
He/she can communicate in simple, everyday tasks requiring no more than a simple and direct exchange of information on familiar and routine matters.
He/she can describe in simple terms aspects of his/her past, environment and matters related to his/her immediate needs.

Put another way, how much of the local language would you need to learn to get by if no one spoke any language you knew? And let’s say all you had was a small “basic phrases” booklet upon your arrival. Surely over the span of thirty years you could learn to competently ask the price of a head of cabbage.

Oppression or reasonable and legitimate expectations?

This is far from the first controversy over the imposition of Latvian as the one and only state language. The same occurred under the Ulmanis (post-coup) regime. Ethnic schools were abolished, instruction was standardized in Latvian, and the multiple dialects of Latvian itself standardized. Today it is popular to portray that as a manifestation of “Latvia for the Latvians” ethno-nationalism, of a Latvian cultural xenophobia. This is simply untrue.

Ulmanis’ agricultural studies were a core influence to his politics. He had attended the Swiss Federal Institute of Technology Zurich, continued his studies at Leipzig University in Germany, then, following political unrest, ended up studying at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln where he earned a Bachelor of Science degree in agriculture. Ulmanis learned the essential role of communications to economic planning and development; he understood that unless all Latvia’s citizenry conversed in a common language, the prospects for future economic development of a small country like Latvia were severely limited.

To whose benefit?

Who has benefited from Russian self-apartheid over the past three decades? Other than the personal convenience of Russophones, it can only be seen as a net loss to all of Latvia’s inhabitants, citizens and non-citizens; and a benefit to the Kremlin, whose primary goal is to sow societal divisions in its neighbors. Indeed, one of the most vociferous critics of Latvia’s “apartheid” policies over the past three decades, Latvia’s EU parliamentarian Tatjana Ždanoka, was just revealed to have been a Russian FSB asset working for two different handlers, minimally from 2009 to 2017.

None of this is to say that we do not feel sympathy for those who have lived in Latvia all their lives and who, based on easy—if now problematic—choices in the past, face losing their resident status. Nor are questions and impact of perceived or actual loyalty to the Kremlin easily resolved, especially given Putin’s current campaign of genocide in Ukraine.

Those affected have been granted an extension to 2025.

protest against instruction in Latvian, exhortation to not cross the "red line"

Russification under the covers

By peters vecrumba

On September 2, 2023

In language policy, Latvia

(“Nationalist”) Latvians were heartened when Latvian authorities announced plans to potentially deport some 10,000 Russian-speakers who chose Russian citizenship/passports following the restoration of independence but have failed to meet residency language requirements since. With a September 1st deadline for compliance looming, they were equally disheartened when the government backed down in late August over denunciations of “hard-line” measures. Affected individuals now have another two years’ grace period to complete their studies and pass their exam.

video snapshot of lsm.lv Latvian state broadcasting, — Latvians protesting extension of the deadline for Russian citizens to pass their residency language requirements examination. Sign means “Learn or gather your things and leave!” (*via news report on lsm.lv Latvian state broadcasting*)

At the moment, four accountants of the Daugavpils Education Board have been fined for not knowing Latvian sufficiently well. For now, they still have their jobs, but have to demonstrate language competency by November. From a societal perspective, as of September 1st, 129 schools and 136 kindergartens teaching in Russian have been mandated to convey education only in the state language, Latvian. Such actions have fomented denunciations by well-meaning rights activists, Kremlin trolls, and the Russian-speakers affected who, from my perspective, have enjoyed the fruits of their consequences-free self-imposed apartheid Russian privilege bubble for longer than Latvia’s first years of freedom between WWI and WWII.

It is not some innocuous bubble that is being pierced, however. Nor is this the first time Latvian language policy has been denounced. Under the pre-WWII Ulmanis regime, instruction was also standardized to be conducted in Latvian. Prior to that, national/ethnic minorities had the right to run their own schools in their own languages as long as state-mandated curriculum requirements were met. In the era of “Latvia for the Latvians,” standardization was decried as ethno-nationalist oppression; regarding prior instruction in Hebrew by its Jewish minority, the policy is portrayed today as a touchstone of pre-WWII Latvian anti-Semitism.

False. Anti-Semites denounced Latvia as a “Jewish country” for the positive view and role of Jews in society. Latvia was the only European country to ban anti-Semitic literature. Latvia served as a transit country for Jews fleeing Nazi Germany after other countries had closed their borders.

Ulmanis understood that the future economic prospects of a country the small size and population of Latvia in which not even Latvians learned in and spoke the same version of Latvian were severely constrained unless and until the Latvian language and school instruction were standardized. The impetus had nothing to do with so-called ethno-nationalism. It was a simple matter of economic survival and growth.

Once again, over eight decades—a lifetime—later, Latvian language “policy” is not about oppression of a minority but about progress of society as a whole, including, ironically, improving the circumstances of those impacted by and most vehemently opposed to the policy.

Mainstream media have trodden out accounts of elderly women lining up to take their language proficiency tests when their potential deportation was first announced, distraught that they “have no other place to go” if they fail and are expelled to their chosen country of citizenship. But the imagery of heartless Latvian nationalism run amok dissipates when you do the math. Someone 80 years old today was 48 years old when the USSR recognized Latvian independence on September 6th, 1991. Spending more than three decades not learning enough of the local language to get by is a choice. Choices eventually have consequences.

The societal choice to indulge Russian apartheidism also has consequences. Some months ago, I learned that employees at LIDO, a wildly popular buffet-style restaurant that I myself have frequented over the years on visits to Latvia—and with unbecoming salivating anticipation, conducts its employee meetings in Russian because their Russian employees don’t know Latvian. As a result, someone who does not know Russian has no career path at LIDO: lacking Russian fluency, you can’t even become a food station supervisor. Thus, there is now an entire generation of Latvian 20-30 year olds who don’t speak Russian (the language of the last occupier and centuries-old existential threat) who have no career prospects across a wide range of establishments and businesses which are “Latvian” in name and image, but are Russified under the covers.

Latvia of the first independence was cosmopolitan. Most Latvians were multi-lingual: my mother was fluent in Latvian and German (and still remembered smatterings of grade school Russian), my father in Latvian, German, and Russian. And they both learned English in the post-WWII refugee camps to prepare for starting over in their post-war life. The point is not that they were some ilk of conformist polyglots, rather, that in committing to learn the language of their new country they opened up economic opportunities for themselves and, in turn, subsequently contributed to the material success of their employers and society.

The situation for Latvia today is no different. Individual and societal economic prosperity demands standardization of communication. And the answer to that in a Western-facing Latvia is not the Russian language. Indeed, Putin’s unprovoked attack on Ukraine has turned Russia into an international pariah, and the learning of Russian in its neighboring states into an anathema.

It is well past overdue for Latvia’s non-Latvian speakers to make the choice and join mainstream society.

We wrote to the Apollo Group, 51% stake-holders in LIDO (since 2021), to inquire about their employee language policy. We will notify you of and share any reply we receive here.

Reimagined Latvian Museum reopens

By peters vecrumba

On December 7, 2022

In Latvian history

Arrival

December 4, 10:54am. Just in time for the 11:00 church service. I was glad to be able to make the time (325 mile round trip!) to attend the reopening of the Latvian Museum at the American Latvian Association in Rockville, Maryland. And through sheer luck, as I went down the aisle along the left side of church, finally finding an open pew seat and asking if it was taken, it was — by the very couple I had hoped to meet at the opening: JBANC managing director Karl Altau and wife Rita Laima née Bērziņa. I accepted their invitation to scoot in and sit next to them. What were the chances? In Latvian circles, more common than one might think.

Service

Growing up, the church was the center of the Latvian community simply as a matter of practicality. Every weekend during the school year featured Latvian school. Celebrating Latvian holidays, Latvian Independence Day,… all took place in the church events hall. Now, two generations later, I was glad to see that community relationship and tradition continues in the Washington DC area since I expect we will be joining the church at some point.

The second Sunday of Advent service focused on John the Baptist and included a reading from John 1:19-28 (in both Latvian and English):

¹⁹ Now this was John’s testimony when the Jewish leaders in Jerusalem sent priests and Levites to ask him who he was. ²⁰ He did not fail to confess, but confessed freely, “I am not the Messiah.” ²¹ They asked him, “Then who are you? Are you Elijah?” He said, “I am not.” “Are you the Prophet?” He answered, “No.” ²² Finally they said, “Who are you? Give us an answer to take back to those who sent us. What do you say about yourself?” ²³ John replied in the words of Isaiah the prophet, “I am the voice of one calling in the wilderness, ‘Make straight the way for the Lord.’” ²⁴ Now the Pharisees who had been sent ²⁵ questioned him, “Why then do you baptize if you are not the Messiah, nor Elijah, nor the Prophet?” ²⁶ “I baptize with water,” John replied, “but among you stands one you do not know. ²⁷ He is the one who comes after me, the straps of whose sandals I am not worthy to untie.” ²⁸ This all happened at Bethany on the other side of the Jordan, where John was baptizing.

For those in attendance for the Latvian Museum opening and reception following, it was also a parable for the life and service of Lilita Bergs, founder (1978) and Director of the museum until her unexpected passing during the summer as the renovations approached completion. Selfless service, a tireless champion for the promulgation of knowledge of Latvian history, someone who eschewed any aggrandizement of her position,…. Those who knew her could not help but draw parallels to the life of John, celebrating a life of service to a far greater cause than oneself, and shared in acknowledging her presence in spirit.

Opening celebration

The full title of the day’s celebration was: “Tūkstots gadu latvju vēsture saritināta 800 kvadrātpēdu kamolā — ALA paspārnē jaunveidots Latviešu muzejs”, A millennium of Latvian history bndled up into an eight-hundred square foot ball [typically of string or yarn] — the newly remade Latvian museum under the wing of ALA (American Latvian Association).

The host for the celebration was Pēteris Dajevskis, son of the well-known (in Latvian circles) pre- and post-WWII artist and scenographer Ēvalds Dajevskis and himself a museum and heritage area consultant, who managed the museum reimagining project along with Lilita Bergs — who had headed the museum since its inception until her untimely passing. Lilita was posthumously awarded a plaque of gratitude.

Grand Reopening of the Latvian Museum – December 4, 2022

Speakers included:

Marisa Gudrais, Executive Director, American Latvian Association (ALA)
Valda Grīnbergs, Director of Cultural Affairs, ALA
Martiņš Andersons, President, ALA
H.E. Māris Selga, Ambassador of the Republic of Latvia to the United States
Karl Altau, Managing Director, Joint Baltic American National Committee (JBANC)
Māra Pelēcis, Emmy Award-winning director — who led the creation of the museum’s new media presentations
Laila Robiņš, stage, film, and television actress — who narrated all the museum’s new media presentations
Daina Block, Head of the Washington DC Latvian School
Edward Gebhardt, graduate of the Philadelphia Latvian School, now a high-schooler — and “test” audience for the museum’s ability to engage a younger audience
Ann Clausen, exhibit developer, for the Latvian Museum Project

Also featured were pre-recorded messages from

Kristaps Ločmelis, UK-based video creator and animator, who produced three videos for the museum
Andrejs Plakāns, eminent now retired Latvian historian who assisted the museum with crafting reimagined exhibits and new narratives

A common thread to the Latvian experience in the diaspora is its relatively small size — California has the largest Latvian population, still less than 10,000. That small size is not necesarily a disadvantage. Rather, it often spawns serendipitous meetings which blossom into projects of mutual interest and life-long friendships. Such was the case with Dajevskis and Bergs. From recollections Dajevskis shared at the celebration:

Peter and his wife Ann first crossed paths with Lilita decades earlier, in Kansas. [Peters’ godfather’s family also first wound up in the midwest upon arriving in America.] Lilita later came to Pēteris to discuss the creation of a Latvian Museum in Washington DC. Pēteris thought it made for a fascinating story and project, and that was how he got “sucked in 45 years ago.” Lilita became not just a colleague but a friend, making this a day of joyousness and of celebration in memory of Lilita and for the museum as it entered its next stage into the future.

Multiple acknowledgements, presentations of the traditional boquets of flowers, a visit to the museum, and a reception followed.

Eras and key moments in Latvian history…our photos, comments and our own small contribution to the museum exhibits…

1200-1600 Invaders!
Germans first arrived in 1158, en masse in 1201. 1600 marked the beginning of wars between Sweden, Poland-Lithuania, and Russia sweeping over Latvian territory.

1600-1819 Serfdom
Sweden invades in 1600. Wars ebb and flow over Latvia culminating in the devastating Great Northern War a century later and eventual subjugation under the Russian empire by 1789. Latvians spend centuries as serfs in service to German baronial hegemony.

1819-1917 National Awakening
Serfdom is abolished 1818-1820 in Kurzeme and Vidzeme, but lasts until 1863 (with the rest of Russia) in Latgale. Latvians become indentured servants, still unable to own land. They begin to dream of a Latvian homeland.

1905
Czarist troops fired on demonstrators led by Father Gapon in front of the Winter Palace in St. Petersburg on January 9, 1905, killing 200. Four days later, troops shot and killed 70 more demonstrators in Riga. Latvians supported and voted for Bolsheviks, hoping for autonomy under Russia. Support for independence solidified when that hope faded.

1917-1920 The Great War
At one point, the newly declared provisional government of Latvia was ensconsed on a ship in Liepāja harbor. Germans — defeated in the west but supported against Russia in the east, held a small corner of Latvia, Russians the rest. Latvians allied with Germans drove out the Russians and then rid themselves of the Germans to finally achieve independence.

1920-1939 Freedom!
Latvia was left utterly devastated, but free. Its industry evacuated to Russia, saboutaged, or destroyed, the government broke up the massive baronial manorlands in the Land Reform of 1920, founding an agrarian nation of farmer-homesteaders. Latvia rebuilt with industrious zeal.

1940-1985 Terror!
Latvia once again became a stomping ground for foreign powers: the USSR, the Nazis and the Holocaust, and the USSR once again. Already promised by FDR to Stalin in 1943, Latvia, Lithuania, and Estonia were the only countries to disappear off the map after WWII, albeit never legally incorporated into the Soviet Union.

Soviets return
Some 170,000 Latvians fled the reinvading Red Army. For those who remained behind, the Soviet return marked a return of brutality, of more mass deportations, and Russification. Latvians become second-class citizens forced to sing the glories of Stalin.

The DP Camps
Tens of thousands of Latvian refugees spent the next five years after the war in Displaced Persons camps in war-torn Allied-occupied Germany. Latvians established their own schools, workshops, hospitals, working with scraps, obsessed with preserving their culture and way of life, whatever the circumstances.

Preservation
Latvians fleeing into exile took only what they could carry. Taking only those few things that were most precious to them, the most evocative of home. Peters still has his parents’ wooden suitcases, one of which still holds his paternal grandmother’s-woven cloth. Peters’s (second) cousin’s mother’s loom built from scraps in the DP camps made it to a new home in Australia.

Into the unknown
How best to prepare for a new life in a new country? Language lessons. Pocket dictionaries. And for those heading to America, Jānis Širmanis’s Kriksis un Tomiņš Amērikā, Kriksis (a classic dog’s name) and “little” Tom in America, a collection of stories with which to acquaint young readers with the unique aspects and customs of their new home.

1985-1991 Dievs Svētī Latviju!
God Bless Latvia! Gorbachov’s rise in 1985 and his introduction of glasnost and perestroika opened the door. The Soviet Union swallowed the Baltics twice in WWII but neither social reforms nor the passage of time could stave off the geopolitical indigestion which hastened, perhaps even triggered, its demise. Latvia fully restored its independence in 1991.

Who are the Latvians?
Latvian and Lithuanian are the oldest living Indo-European languages — some 3,000 to 3,500 years old. Their sister peoples are heirs and custodians to a unique and rich cultural heritage.