National Post (National Edition)
Thanks, but no thanks Canada
Not all Latvians convinced NATO mission is necessary
RIGA, LATVIA • Loitering outside a scrap market, Alexander Krasnopercev shrugs when asked whether he feels closer to his Latvian home or his Russian roots.
“It’s hard to find a job here if you’re Russian, because they discriminate,” Krasnopercev says, while waiting for odd jobs on a Wednesday afternoon. Behind him, vendors sit at dingy stalls next to piles of decommissioned machine parts and Soviet army fatigues.
“I was born here; I lived my whole life here. But I’m still considered a foreigner.’”
Canada will deploy 450 soldiers to Latvia early next year, a show of force that’s part of a NATO effort to deter a repeat of Russia’s 2014 invasion of Ukraine. Russian troops have been building up along its Baltic borders, and with the unexpected U.S. election victory of Donald Trump — who has signalled he’ll have a much less confrontational relationship with Russian President Vladimir Putin than did Barack Obama — the region is clouded in uncertainty. Canadian troops will find themselves in the middle of swirling, geopolitical, economic and ethnic tensions.
“It’s very, very important,” Latvian President Raimonds Vejonis told the National Post in an interview. “Russia does not abide by the laws of behaviour which have kept peace and stability in Europe since the Second World War.”
Russian jets and submarines are crossing into Baltic states with a frequency last seen during the Cold War. That’s prompted NATO to ask Canada to station troops here until at least March 2019, with other countries posting similar units in Estonia, Lithuania and Poland.
Under the military alliance’s rules, if Russia attacks one NATO member, Canada and all the others must spring to its defence.
Two years after pro-Russia militias sparked a civil war in eastern Ukraine, NATO worries Russia will provoke another “hybrid war” by revving up the region’s angry, disenfranchised ethnic Russians — people like Krasnopercev.
“It can be really frustrating to live here,” Krasnopercev says. He’s among 12 per cent of Latvia’s population that holds a “non-citizen passport,” which bars him from voting and restricts his pension rights.
That status applies to 250,000 people who settled during Soviet occupation, or their descendants; twothirds are ethnic Russians. It’s meant to prop up the Latvian language, which only 60 per cent of Latvia’s citizens speak at home.
To get full citizenship, people like Krasnopercev would have to master Latvian, something he claims is too tricky and expensive. His friend Yurij Semynov naturalized a few years ago. It didn’t help his job prospects.
“I go to work in Germany every few months. The prices are the same here, but we’re making a third of their incomes,” Semynov says.
But echoing dozens of people who spoke to the Post on the streets of Riga, neither see Russia invading any time soon.
“That’s just politicians distracting us from real problems,” Krasnopercev argues. “It’s a waste of money to send soldiers here. They should instead use the money to give people jobs.”
A kilometre away at the main central market, customers haggle in Latvian and Russian over clothes, sausages and bread.
A nearby stall sells T-shirts featuring Russian President Vladimir Putin in aviator sunglasses, with statements like “Can’t stop us.” Teenage vendor David Gelbrots says he keeps selling out of them. “Maybe people agree with him, or maybe they wear them ironically,” says Gelbrots, who is Latvian. “I feel wonderful about Russia.”
Another vendor, Deniss Ciganov, kept his non-citizen passport so he can visit Russia without a visa to pick up merchandise.
“Russia isn’t a threat to anyone, but bringing NATO soldiers will just upset Russia,” he says. “What would Russia want from Latvia: the rail system, the ports?” he says, prompting laughs from his wife Vera. “This country’s real problem is the economy,” she says.
According to Latvia’s National Defence Academy, she’s right. An in-depth study on “the possibility of societal destabilization” found roughly a fifth of respondents would support a Russian takeover, but said the country’s biggest fault lines were stagnant incomes and a lack of trust in politicians.
Latvia is beset by a 10-percent unemployment rate, dramatic income inequality, a falling population and widespread perceptions of corruption. A third of citizens told researchers they’d move abroad for work, with slightly more Russians agreeing than Latvians.
“This is a warning signal about problems in the state’s relationship with society in Latvia,” the report reads.
Steps from the central market, separated by a railway underpass, well-heeled shoppers stride confidently into a Nordic department store. They all speak Latvian.
Some, like Janis Erinš, say Canada’s deployment will keep a risky minority at bay. “If you live in Latvia, you should speak Latvian,” he says, rolling his eyes in exasperation. “The Russians here need to integrate. They’re not useful to us; they cause problems.”
But others disagree, like Dace Kudina. “Thank you to Canada, but it’s a bad idea. Russia isn’t a big threat,” she says. “It’s refugees we need to worry about; they’re killing Christians.”
From his office inside the medieval Riga Castle, President Vejonis points a thumb east and says Russia is the biggest threat to his country.
“We are really proud that Canadians will be here in Latvia, and we are ready to host,” he says. “It also gives a very strong signal to society — local society, international society, neighbouring societies — that we are not alone.”
Vejonis, son of a Latvian father and Russian mother, says his country lived in relative peace since its 1991 independence. “In 2014, the situation changed suddenly,” says Vejonis, who was defence minister when Russia invaded Ukraine. “Latvians felt very vulnerable.”
His government started boosting border controls and modernizing Latvia’s military equipment. By 2018, the country plans to meet a NATO directive to dedicate two per cent of GDP to defence spending. (The last time Canada met this quota was in 1990.)
Now, Latvia’s preparing its bases to welcome three of Canada’s nine deployable battalions, “one of which will soon spend its time on the ground, one for standby support, and one to switch during regular rotations,” according to Canadian military spokesman Evan Koronewski. Ottawa has earmarked $348.6 million for the threeyear deployment.
Vejonis is undeterred by people who say that money is better spent on Latvian jobs. “The government decided that security is (the) key priority,” he says.
“This is quite a challenging time. We must be ready.”
In July, U.S. Presidentelect Donald Trump sent shock waves through the region when he suggested that if Russia attacked the Baltics, he’d only defend them if they met their NATO funding quota.
His comments about sowing closer ties with Russia, and allegations the country’s hackers accessed embarrassing Democratic party emails, have alarmed foreign-policy analysts.
But Vejonis dismisses Trump’s remarks as election babble. Since the vote, highprofile Republicans have visited him on tours to the Baltic countries. “Of course everybody said ‘The U.S. will follow our responsibilities.’ ”
Back at the main market, a woman packs up her stall of shirts and purses as a frigid breeze sweeps in. “Russia will never hurt Latvia. They are friends,” says the 60-year-old woman named Marina. “I will not give my last name, because Latvians would set my store on fire,” she says unflinchingly.
“Putin is the best leader that Russia has ever had, aside from Peter the Great. People are happy there, and they don’t have to work into their old age, like I’ll have to.”
Marina echoes the themes she hears on Russian broadcasts: that Latvia is “a failed state” sliding into fascism, out of hate for Russian speakers.
“What happened in Ukraine was just military companies looking for an excuse to sell weapons,” she says. “Is that going to happen to Latvia? Who knows.”
BRINGING NATO SOLDIERS WILL JUST UPSET RUSSIA.