Sep 11
AleksHistory, Identity, National Minorities, Society
National Poet of Latvia, Rainis
RIGA – Latvian poet, translator, social democratic journalist and politician Rainis, died on September 12, 1929. Hours before his death, Rainis penned an article in Russian called “Латвийцы”, or Latvians. It was published in the Russian-language newspaper Сегодня/Segodnya on September 29, 1929, in an edition devoted to the 10th anniversary of the newspaper. The article is often quoted by the Russian political groups, who misinterpret it and take it out of context.
A little needs to be said about the title. English is somewhat vague using the term Latvians. It could refer to either an ethnic group of Latvians, or it could refer to the citizens of Latvia. And the two do not often mean the same thing. There is an archaic English word: “Letts,” which refers to ethnic Latvians. Consequently, Lettish is a derivative adjective. It is used in this text to mean the same thing, even though the word is hardly in use any more. The following in my translation of the article from the original Russian into English:
When I am asked a question about literature as a means of convergence between the Russian and Latvian peoples, I first and foremost am reminded of the conditions for the existence of the minorities in Latvia. The conditions undoubtedly are favorable. Cultural autonomy forged a gratifying soil for mutual understanding.
But there are few fruits yet. What especially attracts my attention is that this aspiration to converge is first exhibited by the Jews. Significantly less frequent attempts are made by the Russian minority, and even less by the German minority. The reasons as I see are that Russians and Germans considering themselves peoples with ancient great culture are unwilling to make first steps towards the convergence.
The text of the article
But, by the way, that convergence is extremely necessary and it ought to take place best of all through the mutual exchange of literary works.
When it comes to the Russian literature, we, the Letts, have always been interested in it, have learned from great Russian writers. It’s true that Russians showed little interest in the Latvian literature, they rarely noticed it. I must note, however, this one comforting exception. Your newspaper more than other minority publications always promoted the need for cultural convergence. I didn’t have an opportunity to follow Segodnya regularly because I spent a lot of time traveling, but in the previous years, and by those issues that I did read in the last few months I was convinced that this is one of those few newspapers, which often presents their readers with examples of translated works of the best Lettish authors, follows the work of our theaters, and shows interest in the new Lettish literature and works of the Lettish artists.
All of that, of course, impacts the drive toward the convergence of the two people. The fact that Segodnya broadly informs readers about the successes of the Lettish artists and actors abroad as well as the cultural initiatives of the Letts, I am ready to credit as an accomplishment of the minority leaders, who attempt to establish cultural connection with Latvians. Unfortunately, I cannot say the same about the Germans. But even more than Russians, the convergence with Letts occupies, as it is seen, the Jews and the Poles, often underscoring their interest in the Lettish culture.
Convergence of the people has to start, of course, in schools. Up until now, the convergence of the young generation has not taken place systemically. Detachment is detrimental not only to Letts, but also to the minorities themselves. This occurrence is unhealthy and inappropriate. The Germans, for example, uselessly disassociate themselves from the Letts, often forgetting that they are not going the same way as the foreign Germans. The ideology of the Latvian Germans and proper Germans is significantly different. The Russian youth rarely adopts the need for the cultural convergence. As I have already mentioned, predominantly Jewish youth, who well-mastered the Latvian language, makes a pleasant exception.
I would like to point out to Switzerland as an example of a country where peacefully co-exist three peoples. Each Swiss – be it a German, a French or an Italian – has only one motherland. It is Switzerland. And everywhere they call themselves Swiss. Latvia is too far from the ideal brotherhood of the peoples.
We, in the Lettish language, don’t even have a special word, signifying a Latvian [resident of Latvia], corresponding to the Russian word “россиянин” [resident of Russia] in Russian. I supported the need for introduction of a word which could denote all peoples residing in Latvia. I offered the word “latvijetis”, in Russian латвиец. But my proposition didn’t find supporters. Latvia’s Russian, a German or a Jew finding himself outside of Latvia will definitely say that he is a Russian from Latvia; a German from Latvia; a Jew from Latvia. A foreigner doesn’t understand this. Being in Palestine, I was often asked what the state language of Latvia was, what the languages of minorities were. I answered that our minorities didn’t assimilate to majority and they all speak their own language. But my interviewers weren’t satisfied.
“Why is it that all Latvian citizens don’t think of themselves as Latvians, but think of themselves as Russians, Germans and Jews?”
I ran into three Jewish students in Brussels. Many times I have told them who I was and I asked them in German which nationality they were.
The answer followed: “Wir sind lettlender.” It turned out that they speak Lettish well and present themselves as Latvians (латвиец)/
This was a very comforting phenomenon, and it characterizes the mood of the new Latvian youth-minority, a new generation of Latvians.
At one time I was asked by two young beginner writers, both Jewish. They were asking me for help in publishing their works, written in Lettish.
As you can see the young generation of Latvians is predisposed to the process of convergence. At first, it has been done by the Jews, now it’s time for others, a few timid (when it comes to that kind of convergence) peoples, but even here, the new beginnings are being shown and it makes me happy and excited.
May 27
AleksIdentity
RIGA – For 18 years since independence, Latvia has tried to prove to the rest of the world that it’s a real country. It’s not one of the former Soviet republics. Nor is it one of the new EU member states. It’s Latvia.
In 2006, the tiny Latvia hosted the Ice Hockey World Championship. It was seen as a sensei stamp of approval of this little kingdom of ours by the rest of the hockey world. In 2003, Latvia hosted the Eurovision Song Contest, signifying Latvia’s arrival into the glitzy and glamorous European world of pop songs. Joining the EU and NATO, in 2004, definitely signified that Latvia indeed was somewhere on the map – you just need to look closely.
Latvia, you’ve finally arrived.
Hosting the ice hockey world championship drew crowds of foreign hockey fans to this small country of ours. The tourism industry saw a boom which now dwindles down under stories about drunken nude British people roaming around town and Latvians’ displeasure at behavior of foreign visitors.
After hosting Eurovision, Latvia became one of those boring European countries that sends parodies of songs, like the Pirates of the Sea, to vie for the European approval we no longer seek.
Joining NATO and the EU meant that reforms that brought us into these two exclusive organizations can be shelved.
But that low self-worth persists in our lives. Even the defense minister Vinets Veldre had to place restoring national traditions (presumably the honor guard) at the bottom of its top 15 priorities. That’s below equipping our military and, perhaps, learning to fly jets to patrol our own skies. And below sports.
Because horses will make us feel like a real country – like that Great Britain where the change of the Honor (or Honour) Guard is watched by millions of tourists every year. Or like Denmark where the change of the guard takes place while a beautiful military orchestra plays contagious marches.
Never mind that economically we’re still near the bottom of the EU food chain. Never mind that our economy appears to be heading toward some kind of crisis. Never mind that unlike Estonians, we cannot even utter the phrase economic crisis – much else to take blame for it.
We need horses. That’s right – horses. The defense ministry plans to pay Ls 2,000 per horse for its 28-horse and, presumably, 28-men honor guard that would restore our nation as it as before. So that we would finally feel like a people, like a real country, like we matter. Perhaps not to our big partners like Germany or Russia, but certainly to ourselves.
But if joining NATO and EU, hosting events of international magnitude didn’t put us on the map, why should the honor guard bring honor to this country?
May 24
AleksIdentity, National Minorities, Soviet Past ethnic identity, Russia
RIGA – Latvian miserabilism wants company.
It’s not enough that Latvians dwell on the past, dipping into an abysmal well of self-loathing and victimization that is an integral part of the Latvian ethnic identity as folk songs and dances. Eighteen years after they own their own house, Latvians want former invaders to feel as miserable as they are. The government is calculating a bill of the Soviet occupation to send to the Kremlin. At the same time, bills aren’t being sent to Germans, Poles, and Swedes who occupied what was to become Latvia. I guess there are occupiers and then there are occupiers.
A notorious victim complex needs a scape-goat. Up until late 1930s, the blame was with the Germans, the long-time oppressor of ethnic Latvians that became a subject of many Latvian folk songs. Following the Soviet occupation, the victim complexed Latvians turned from hating Germans to hating Russians.
On one hand, Latvian intelligentsia takes an immense pleasure in self-loathing. On the other hand, this eternal, “nobody loves me,” “no one has a pity on us” motif is evident in today’s Latvia. It’s other people’s fault for their miserabilism. Always. It is a constantly resurfacing theme in the pubic discourse on government matters. “Look, they steal, they hate us, they are corrupt, but we are poor, we suffer and bear it.” The nation of Latvia strives on appeasement and misery. Facing up to the fact that some Latvians participated in the killing of the Jews during the war is tough because if you accept it, you can no longer claim you’re a victim of the circumstance, but a willing participant.
Compare their mentality with Russians.
Ridden by centuries of dictatorship rule, Russians learned to adjust for survival. When you’re fighting for survival, pragmatism takes precedence over principles. Russians who may not have bought into ideals of a bright, glorious, communistic paradise, still uttered allegiances to the Party in exchange for a better job or some kind of benefits. In the West, they’d be called “sellouts.” In Russia, it was a matter of survival. Principled people were shipped to Siberia, killed, or were forced to flee to the West. It’s similar for ethnic Russians in Latvia. Most of those who naturalized since independence sold out. They gave the expected answered on familiar questions without much faith in what they were saying.
It’s just bizness.
Russians well aware of the Stalin crimes. Even one of the most anti-Latvian newspapers in town, Chas, published several accounts of ethnic Russians being deported along with the Latvians during the Soviet occupation. I’ve yet to talk to any Russian who does not know about “the great resettlement of the people.” Or about the Stalin’s oppressions. It’s no wonder that in 1989, the Soviet government called the Soviet-German pact invalid from the moment of its signing. While some political forces in Russia would like to see that 1989 declaration repealed, it is unlikely to erase what Russians know about that period of history.
In this, Latvian miserabilism isn’t compatible with Russian mentality. Russians don’t dwell on the past. They hardly learn from it. They don’t intend to put on sackcloth and ashes, roaming around the world in a state of perpetual mourning – unless it’s for bizness purposes. Nor should they. The Victory Day celebration is now part of the new Russian national identity – it’s got little to do with the figure of Joseph Stalin himself. It’s accentuated in the Baltics because Russians here feel as if the government or the ethnocentrism of Latvians threatens their own ethnic identity in their attempt to remake local Russians into ethnic Latvians. While some Russians would hold Stalin’s portrait dear and near to their hearts, they are dying out. When new generations of Russians came to the monument that Friday, Stalin was replaced with the Russian tricolor. For the younger generation, it’s a rebirth of the new Russia and May 9 is an integral part of the new Russia’s national identity as much as the Patriotic War of 1812 against Napoleon’s France was part of the national identity until the Bolshevik Revolution in 1917.
Russians aren’t Germans. Their mentality isn’t European, no matter how much you try to make them to be. Baltic Russians have a chance to become European, but it will takes years if not centuries. Regardless, though, they will not develop a perpetual guilt complex similar to the one espoused by modern Germans, who feel guilty for the crimes of their fathers and grandfathers, nor will they subscribe the perpetual guilt complex of the ethnic Latvians. Russians appear to be pragmatic people after centuries of oppression and fighting for survival under czars, Bolsheviks, communists. Russians want to move on instead of living in the past as Latvians appear to.As any pragmatics, Russians want to make money, have good jobs, raise their children, live in peace, rather than bickering over how many Latvians were actually in the Arajs commando, or how many Russians acknowledge the occupation. Now is the time to shred miserabilism, roll up our sleeves, and press on to a future without forgetting the past.
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