Prague Property

The third subject of my interview series is the esteemed British journalist Edward Lucas, the central and east European correspondent of The Economist.

You amaze some people in the Baltics because you seem to have a much deeper understanding of the situation here than most foreign journalists do. Do you think that’s so? If so, how did that come about?

I have been covering the CEE region pretty much continuously since 1987.

I can’t judge my level of understanding but I think I probably do have an advantage in being able to compare eg Moldova and Estonia. Fairly few journalists know Russian, German and Polish which are all useful languages.

You’re highly opinionated, it seems to me. How do you balance that with “objectivity”? As I asked Aleksejs — “do you believe in objectivity”?

The Economist is a “viewspaper” so we try to explain what is going on, not just describe it. I have the luxury of a weekly column where I can opine in a way that I would not do in the Europe section.

Though you obviously sympathize with the Baltic states (at least I think you do), you seem to have little sympathy for nationalists…. okay, okay, this is a leading question and “nationalism” has a definition that is funky, at best? Let me rephrase this! What is “Baltic nationalism” to you?

I sympathise with all sides to differing degrees. I think ethno-centric nationalism is not likely to make the Baltic states safe, free and prosperous. But as an outsider I have to be cautious in telling people what they “ought” to think.

How is Estonia different from Latvia (and/or Lithuania)?

Estonia is smaller, more Nordic, more protestant, more reserved but also more innovative than its counterparts.

You know a lot about all of Eastern and Central Europe. How are the Baltics similar to the satellites, and how are they different, in your view? Then and now?

Soviet rule has left a distinctive legacy in the Baltic but this is fading over time. It is much more visible in, say, Moldova or Ukraine

You’re now writing what you yourself call “rants” for The Daily Mail — what’s the difference between a rant and an analysis? Why rant?

I have been writing for the Daily Mail and other papers for years. It is a way of reaching a different audience. And it helps pay for my children’s education.

You’ve suggested that moving the Bronze “Soldier-Liberator” was a bad idea. Why?

The soldier was a policing/public order problem. Moving it created a national-security problem. That was a big practical minus for a modest symbolic plus.

If you still think it was a bad idea, why and how can you so vociferously defend Estonia afterwards?

The Estonian government made a questionable decision. Russia’s response was outrageous. Countries have the right to make mistakes.

A timid young journalist friend of mine was amazed by your blog, and even by its very existence — to him, a journalist must avoid such things. What would you say to that?

The Economist pays me to have authoritative views. If I was working for Reuters it would be different.

What can we look forward to in the next decade? Will you stay in journalism? What can we hope for from Edward Lucas?

Russia will get scarier. So long as I can, I will keep writing about the region.

Knowing what you do — what can the Baltics hope for?

For the first time since 1993, I no longer feel confident that the Baltic states will survive: the potentially lethal combination is Russian money and western weakness.

Protesti pie Saeimas pret Abrenes iztirgošanu 2007.05.17. from Kursis LV on Vimeo

A protest against the ratification of the Border Agreement at the Saeima, Latvia’s Parliament, this morning, organized by the far-right “Visu Latvijai!” (”All for Latvia!”) party. The Border Agreement was ratified (70:25) despite the fact that its constitutionality is being challenged in the Constitutional Court — the President has said she will sign it into law, which means that the Satversme, Latvia’s Constitution, may have to be amended. If a referendum to amend it fails, Latvia will be stuck with an unconstitutional Agreement, because Russia will almost certainly have ratified it and international law would require the consent of both countries to renounce it. My previous posts on the issue are here — I, II, III.

This is the second of a series of interviews inspired by the series at Siberian Light. My victim this time is Aleksejs Tapiņš, who runs the most prominent English-language Latvian blog, All About Latvia.

Unlike with Pēters Jānis Vecrumba, who has his history at his site, we don’t know much about you. Tell us who you are.

I’m a 30-year-old Latvian citizen, a product of a mixed marriage
between a Russian woman and a Latvian man. I came to the U.S. to study
back in 1997. Graduated. Got married. Went to do some graduate work at
Michigan State University in 2001. Graduated. Got divorced. The
marriage resulted in a beautiful son, so I moved closer to her and my
son in the state of Indiana, where I currently live. Until very
recently, I worked at a local newspaper as a reporter.

Aleksej, when we spoke on Skype, my Transylvanian friend said that you sounded very American. One of the interesting things about you is that you now have three identities — Latvian, Russian, American. How do you deal with that?

It’s a constant fight. Depending where I am or what the question is,
each of these identities rears its head.

I consider myself a Latvian, but not in a sense of pure ethnicity. I
think you, Peteris, use the word Lett to describe the ethnicity. My
father is a Latvian, but I’ve never learned any folk songs when
growing up. Since my family life has been dominated by my Russian
mother, it’s the Russian language that became my native language. I
consider myself a Latvian in the sense that I love my country and I
want life there to improve.

The Russian identity appears to be separated from Russia proper. I’ve
been to Russia twice in my entire life, both times on schools trips as
the Soviet Union was falling apart. My Russian identity may show
itself through the language or the accent, battling with my Latvian
identity for world domination.

The American identity shows up when it comes to solving problems and
identifying solutions to those problems.

Why do you blog?

I started blogging in March 2003. At that time, there were very few
sites devoted to Latvia in English. And I was tired of explaining to
people that Latvia was not part of Russia. You have to understand that
in 2003, Latvia was not a member of the European Union or Nato.

Since then, of course, motivation for blogging has evolved. At one
point, it’s become a search for my own identity. Who am I? Am I
Russian/Latvian/American? I tried answering my own questions in hopes
to show what some Russian-speaking people in Latvia may be going
through.

Now, the main goal is to inform English-speaking people about what’s
going on in Latvia through my eyes, but, once I arrive to Latvia after
10 years, it will become an eye-witness account of Latvian life.

You’re “coming home” soon. Does it feel like you’re coming home?

I’m feeling the whole spectrum of emotions: from anticipation to fear.
This period will be the longest period I will spend in Latvia since I
left the country in 1997. It’s exciting and frightening at the same
time. I realize that things have changed; places have changed; people
have changed. And in a way, home the way I remember will remain only
in my memory. However, I feel a strong connection to the country. So
in a way, yes, it is like coming home.

When you write about Estonia, you obviously support Estonia. Is there any conflict with your “Russian side”?

No, none really. Even if I don’t consider that it was mostly
Russian-speaking teens looting, I would condemn any kind of
hooliganism, especially in a country like Estonia. I don’t care about
the causes, I don’t care about the motivation. It doesn’t justify the
public disorder we’ve seen a couple of weeks ago.

What became visible more and more is how the Russian government
operates the propaganda machine; how hearsay is presented as facts;
how wrong key elements of previous stories get repeated again and
again; how most journalists from Russia absolutely have no integrity
to stand on.

So, no. No conflict with my Russian side. I only had a couple of
typical heated arguments with some of my Russian speaking friends, who
don’t get it. But that’s nothing new.

You’re a journalist. Do you believe in objectivity?

Absolutely. I believe in objectivity. I believe all voices are
important in the marketplace of ideas. Of course, some ideas get there
through twisted or exaggerated facts.

I also believe in a thing called truth. For example, if someone had
said the earth was flat, but the other person said the earth was
round, the latter view would get most coverage because it’s the truth
based on evidence. Now there are some things we cannot know, but it
doesn’t hurt to question. So objectivity to me doesn’t mean pure
stenography; it means analysis and presentation of evidence to the
reader.

With Estonia one can know beyond the shadow of a doubt that majority
of those young people on the streets of Tallinn were ethnic Russians:
the police numbers suggest that. One can hear them chanting “Russia,
Russia” on the streets of Estonian capital. And one can draw the
conclusions of their allegiance. No pretext of discriminated Russian
minorities, no public relations shtick can cover that truth.

What are your hopes and fears with regard to Latvian-Russian relations, within Latvia?

The hope is that Russia will treat its neighbors not as a sphere of
influence through natural resources or propaganda, but rather as an
equal partner. That will include Latvia. And I also hope that Latvian
politicians will be able to stand up to Russia. In other words, I hope
for peaceful co-existence, pipe-dream though it may be.

What can we expect from All About Latvia this year?

Plans are many, but there’s never enough time and resources. Either at
the end of this year, or probably in the beginning of the next year,
I’m hoping to start a weekly podcast with news about Latvia with some
guests and music.

I’m also planning to start a Russian-language blog on livejournal.com
to debunk the myths about Latvia in the Russian press both inside and
outside of Latvia, but that’s really like putting a stick into the
beehive. So for now, it’s just an idea.

Since I’m moving from Midwestern United States to Latvia, I hope
readers, who continue to visit the blog, will find more revealing
reportages about life in Latvia.

Welcome home, Aleks!

The first fortnight of the merry month of May is rife with red-letter days. Having blogged about May Day, the Fourth of May, Europe Day and Victory Day, I may as well end this bout of calendrical focus by writing about the Fifteenth of May.

Seventy-three years ago, slightly over six years before Stalin destroyed our Republic, the gentleman in the waxwork pictured at left destroyed our democracy.

Kārlis Ulmanis is a figure Latvia has not yet come to terms with. He still has his hagiographers. In 2003 a statue of him was unveiled in Rīga, paid for with contributions from admirers — not a few of the donors were Western Latvians, especially Australian Latvians. Raivis Dzintars’ young radicals and nostalgic elderly people gather there for a candlelight vigil to celebrate the 1934 coup. I’m with those who wonder why a democracy needs to erect a monument to a dictator, but the nostalgia of those who remember “the Latvia of 15 May” is understandable — he is styled as a “benevolent dictator,” and by comparison to Hitler, Stalin, Antonescu, et al., he certainly was; he didn’t snuff anybody, and that’s a rather admirable characteristic. His earlier career, which included study and dairy farming in the United States, was positively noteworthy — as the first Prime Minister of Latvia, from 1918, his faith in the Republic and strength of resolve were peerless; not too many people could so determinedly run a state without a territory (for a while, he governed from a ship, the Saratov).

Nonetheless, as the great poet Knuts Skujenieks pointed out not long ago ago, his dictatorship was a prelude to Soviet totalitarianism — the Vadonis (”the leader”) was the nation, though he never received the nation’s consent. Even local government was dependent upon him. Even bus schedules were censored (to remove Slavicized toponyms). Classic plays that depicted the evils of peasants had to be reworked before being staged — the peasant was to be exalted. “A Latvian Latvia” was supplemented with the slogan “in Latvia, the sun shines upon everyone.”

There are a multitude of takes and sidelights — this one, for instance. It’s skewed. From the most recent book on Latvian history available in English (this is not a plug — though I’m one of the translators, I’m not too fond of the book) –

p. 151: “the coup of 15 May was not a preventative action but an illegal act consciously directed against Latvian democracy.” See also p. 149: “Ulmanis informed the President of what happened [on 16 May 1934]; according to the Satversme, Kviesis was to defend democracy with all his powers. Without the slightest formal protest, he accepted the coup and betrayed democracy. Nothing threatened Latvia at the time that could have justified killing democracy. Neither a political nor an economic crisis encouraged the coup; to the contrary—the approaching end of the economic crisis would have prevented Ulmanis from accusing democracy of weakness.”

p. 153: “Latvia in the time of Ulmanis was characterized by a distinctly anti-democratic government. The May 15th régime was the most authoritarian in the Baltics and possibly in all of Eastern Europe. Furthermore, it was virtually the only dictatorship in Europe that retained no formal elected representation whatsoever.” p. 159: “The idea of the unity of the people was closely allied with an idea of leadership opposed to parliamentary democracy—an idea of leadership practiced by Ulmanis in making decisions as a dictator with practically unlimited powers. Official propaganda attempted to portray him as a leader given to the Latvian people by God himself. […] The praise and flattery accorded him very quickly developed into an exaggerated and ridiculous cult of personality—the Vadonis was dubbed ‘the greatest statesman in Europe’; he was ‘the Great Sower’ and the ‘Double Genius’. This worship of Ulmanis was interwoven with an uncritical assessment of authoritarian rule devoid of any objectivity. Latvia’s monolithic press usually lauded even the least achievement with the words, ‘we’re headed straight up’.”

For people who grew up under Ulmanis, criticism of the Vadonis is often seen as heresy (unless they came of Social Democratic “stock,” perhaps…). I’ve made at least three elders cry, and the reason is simple — no matter how noxious “the Latvia of 15 May” was, what came after was incomparably worse. I highly recommend this study of minority policy for some insight — “The Price of Free Lunches: Making the Frontier Latvian in the Interwar Years.” The difference between free lunches and Siberia is vast, and most Latvians understand the difference most intimately.

The political scientist Jānis Peniķis asks, rhetorically, what it means “to be ready for democracy.” Were we? Are we? One of the most interesting things about that period is that nothing indicates that democracy was failing in 1934. On the other hand, other than a Social Democrat firing his pistol into the ceiling of his villa whilst being arrested on 15 May, there was never any real opposition to Ulmanis’ dictatorship.

To today — where are we in time? 1993/1939 — these transposed digits were well nigh mystical, Guntis Ulmanis becoming President on the strength of his surname. We restored the Republic of 18 November 1918 — but the elder generation remembers only the May 15th régime. 54% of those surveyed in Latvia yearn for “a strong hand.” That’s not as bad as it is in Russia — but it ain’t pretty. Other stats explain why — people feel powerless, basically. We choose between indifference and the lesser evil. This country, or imagined community (pace Benedict Anderson) being small (tiny, my Transylvanian friend would say — if you open the newspaper in one Baltic state, it shades a neighbor), we all “know everybody.” The standard line is “they’re all thieves (robbers, bandits, good-for-nothings…) — you vote for your good-for-nothing, I’ll vote for mine.”

Only 44% of the population feels that it’s possible to influence anything by protesting. Is it 1934 again? Nah, ’cause we’re comfortably ensconced in various structures of elastic strength — no strong hand is rising to try to clean out the Augean stables.

I take some small solace in the number of people turning out to sign for the referendum.

I’ll close with the words of Bļodnieks, the last PM before Ulmanis’ last election to the post he sullied so. In The Undefeated Nation, Bļodnieks includes a chapter entitled “Unjustified Coup d’État.” He writes how the events of 15 May “filled me and all other true democrats with deep indignation.” Bļodnieks said “that never and under no condition would I renounce the ideals I had formed in my youth and for which I had shed my blood–my determination to go with the people and work for the people, to defend its right to shape its government and life in freedom. I also stressed that any dictatorship, in its essence, was alien and irreconcilable to the Latvian people and the sense of justice and legality and should therefore be inacceptable and combatible.”