By John Ruberry
Late last month I traveled to Latvia, where Mrs. Marathon Pundit was born and raised, for the first time in 25 years. I had also visited with her in 1994.
I expected a different Latvia, and indeed that was the case.
First, a little history. A series of nations ruled Latvia, the last being czarist Russia, until 1918. The Bolsheviks recognized Latvian independence in 1920.
But along with neighboring Estonia and Lithuania, while most of the world was focused on Nazi Germany’s aggression in western Europe, Latvia was forcibly annexed by the Soviet Union in 1940. The Nazis attacked the USSR a year later, but the Soviets recaptured the Baltic States later in the war.
Three months before the collapse of the Soviet Union, the Evil Empire recognized the independence of the Baltic States.
When Latvia regained its independence, the population as just 52 percent Latvian. Russians, many of them brought to Latvia to replace Latvians deported to Siberia in the 1940s, made up about a third of the population in the last days of the Latvian SSR. Many of them quickly left after independence, but Russians still make about one-quarter of the population of Latvia. Riga, Latvia’s capital and largest city, has a Russian population of about 35 percent. Russians are a clear majority in Daugavpils, Latvia’s second city.
The Latvia I saw in the 1990s was poor, my guess is, without the abject poverty, economically speaking it was on the level of Mexico.
But in 2004, the Baltic States joined the European Union, also that year they became members of NATO.
Since then, it’s been full steam ahead for Latvia, notwithstanding the 2008-09 recession.
What I saw in Latvia in June was a prosperous European nation. Gone are the gray–literally, they were gray–retail stores. They have been replaced by colorful and brightly lit retail outlets. Many of these stores, as well as hotels, utilize English-language names. Instruction in English began in Latvian schools after independence was achieved. All Latvians under 35 speak pretty good English.
I’m a runner, and I was one of the few when I hit the roads for a workout. Now there are many running, or if you prefer, cycling trails.
During my first visits I saw many Russian-made cars on the Latvian streets and highways. My wife and I traveled hundreds of miles during my nine days there–she will be in Latvia for another week—and I saw just two Russian-made cars, both Ladas. I’m pictured with an old Volga above. That make was discontinued in 2010. Volkswagen, Audi, and BMW are the most popular cars in Latvia.
Mrs. Marathon Pundit and I spent a lot of time in rural communities. She grew up on a collective farm in Sece, which is pretty much at the center of Latvia. They grew an assortment of crops, mostly potatoes, beets, and cucumbers, and while driving thru Latvia in the 1990s, the look of the land betrayed that odd lot cultivation. While Latvia doesn’t look like Iowa–there are few cornfields and about half of Latvia is forested–it’s becoming a nation of mega-farms. Wheat, canola, oats, are the major crops. And potato growing is hanging on.
My wife attended her high school reunion in Sece, she was one of three in attendance from her graduating class of seventeen. One our hosts was another, and the third, almost certainly the wealthiest man in Sece, has been buying, one by one, parcels of land that were part of those old collective farms that were divided up after independence, in Sece, from people to old to tend to the soil, or who have no interest to do so.
The prosperous farmer is the owner of that Volga in the photograph.
The graduating class sizes of my wife’s old school is now roughly 10 students per year. Rural Latvia, just like rural America, is shrinking.
Only rubble remains of the farmhouse where my wife grew up. Thousands of Latvians can attest to the same situation.
Scattered throughout Latvia are the ugly white-brick buildings, poorly built, that are long-abandoned. “That used to the community creamery in Sece,” Mrs. Marathon Pundit said to me. “That used to be the tractor motor pool, the tractors parked next to them haven’t moved in years.” She could have said the same to me every dozen miles or so when we drove past similar structures. Nearly every one of these collective farm buildings have been long abandoned. They are miniature Pompeiis that were never buried, sad monuments to the failure of communism, an economic and political system that never should have been implemented. Sadly, after over a century of proven failure, there are still people falling for Marxist nonsense.
In the cities and the small towns, khrushchevka apartment buildings, known in the West as “commieblock” structures, are still omnipresent. Most of them utilize those same unpleasant white bricks.
And in the cities, especially Riga, you’ll find many abandoned buildings that were Soviet-era factories.
Yes, I know, we have abandoned buildings in our American cities. But Riga has many new buildings–beautiful ones. I’m particularly fond of the National Library of Latvia.
Yes, but what about Donald Trump?
Okay, that was an abrupt transition, but most Latvians don’t like him. With the war in Ukraine showing no sign of ending, and when I was in Latvia when the apparent Wagner Group attempted coup occurred, his name, and that of Vladimir Putin, was brought up many times.
Oh, Joe Biden is viewed in Lativa as an ineffective old man.
But wait, what about Trump?
To a person, Latvians are pissed off about Trump’s compliments of Putin. For instance, shortly after Russia invaded Ukraine, he called Putin’s move “genius” and “savvy.” I explained that Trump is running to regain the White House, and the former president, dating back to his career as a real estate mogul, is the consummate negotiator, Trump, in my opinion, could be simply playing mind games with Putin. He used a similar strategy with Kim Jong Un. Trump’s flattery is analogous, I tried to reason, to entering a store and being complimented on the shirt I am wearing by a flirtatious saleswoman. Suddenly, my guard is dropped. True, Putin is likely made of tougher stuff than I am. I think.
Only the Latvians I spoke to weren’t buying my explanation. Don’t forget, Russia borders Latvia on the east, and Putin’s puppet state of Belarus is on Latvia’s southeast. In spite of their nation’s membership in NATO, it’s understandable that Latvians are quite nervous about Russia. Dual invasions from Russia’s Kaliningrad exclave and from Belarus into Lithuania could quickly isolate all three Baltic nations.
Latvia faces challenges, a declining population is the biggest one. While life is better now in Latvia, it’s even better in Scandinavia and Germany. European Union membership presents a dilemma for Latvia.
But I am confident that Latvia will succeed.
John Ruberry regularly blogs at Marathon Pundit.
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