In August, Latvia marks three anniversaries worth noting. On Aug. 11, 1920, Russia signed a peace treaty with Latvia. Nineteen years later, on Aug. 23, 1939, the Soviet Union signed a non-aggression pact with Nazi Germany.

This promise of non-aggression between Stalin and Hitler led to one of the bloodiest wars in human history and put an end to peace and independence in Latvia. On Aug. 21, 1991, Latvia restored that peace and regained its independence.

Of all the parties involved in these three proclamations and declarations of August, only the Republic of Latvia seems to still exist. The Soviet Union self-destructed in 1991, Nazi Germany was dismantled in 1945 (also in August, at the Potsdam Conference), and the Federal Socialist Republic of Russian Soviets, which served as the government of Russia in 1920, is a historical footnote as well.

For Latvia, the 1920 peace treaty with Russia is one of the cornerstones of its statehood, because it ended the last remaining threat to the independence that Latvia had declared in 1918, and opened the doors to full international recognition of Latvia’s sovereignty. (The United States did it in 1922.) It also played a legally compelling role in preserving the legitimacy of Latvia’s suspended sovereignty during 50 years of Soviet occupation, and was often cited after Aug. 21, 1991, when countries around the world restored their relations with a restored Republic of Latvia.

Earlier this month President Valdis Zatlers opened the exhibition “From August to August. The Latvian – Russian Peace Treaty,” at the Latvian National History Archives to commemorate the 90th anniversary of the signing of the Latvian–Russian Peace Treaty. The exhibition was organized together with the Latvian Foreign Ministry at the initiative of former Foreign Minister Māris Riekstiņš. In his remarks at the opening, present Foreign Minister Aivis Ronis called the treaty “Latvia’s covenant with the world.” Both Ronis and Riekstiņš stressed the importance of linking the past with the present.

Memories of the Aug. 23, 1939 Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact also played a leading role in Latvia’s remarkable drive to restore its independence in the late 1980s. The first massive demonstration to protest this pact took place in Rīga on Aug. 23, 1987, at the Freedom Monument. Two years later on this day, 2 million Latvians, Lithuanians and Estonians joined hands across the length and breadth of their countries to announce their intention to restore their independence. The “Baltic Way” of Aug. 23, 1989, led to independence for the Baltic countries in August 1991. From August to August, indeed.

So far, we have passed the mid-point of August 2010, and no new pacts, peace treaties or proclamations of major historical consequence have occurred. Latvia is completing two decades of restored independence, the global economic crisis of the last few years seems to be abating, and we are talking more about the record-breaking heat than recorded dates in history.

Of course, the political atmosphere in Latvia is heating up because we face another parliamentary election on Oct. 2, but that’s par for the course in a lively democracy. While candidates argue about prescriptions for the future, it is still valuable to reflect on the ironies of the past. We established our 1st Saeima (parliament) in 1922, thanks in part to the Latvian-Russian Peace Treaty of 1920. After our 4th Saeima (elected in 1931), Latvia lost its independence thanks to the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact. And in 1993 we elected our 5th Saeima, thanks to restoration of independence in August 1991.

Now, thankfully, we elect our 10th Saeima. We only managed four sittings of parliament before World War II, but are now approaching our sixth following the end of the Cold War. For Latvians, August is not just a bridge between summer and fall, but also a fitting time to look into the past, so that we can better plan our future. It always pays to look both ways before crossing any street.

Twenty years ago a Latvian prime minister and foreign minister met with an American president in the Oval Office of the White House. It was July 30, 1990, and Latvia was still an occupied country. Why did President George H.W. Bush meet with Ivars Godmanis and Jānis Jurkāns a year before Latvia restored its independence, and why does it matter today?

The story begins on May 4, 1990, when the Latvian Supreme Council voted to restore Latvia’s independence, and chose Ivars Godmanis to head the government that hoped to make that goal a reality.

As the Washington, D.C., lobbyist for the American Latvian Association (ALA), I had worked with Godmanis since his days at the Popular Front, and met with him in Rīga again in June to discuss how the ALA could support the new government. The Latvian independence movement had taken a bold step forward, now had a government to work with, and needed international support to realize its goals. As we strolled through the Esplanade out of earshot of microphones in the Cabinet of Ministers building, Godmanis and I agreed that he and his Foreign Minister Jānis Jurkāns needed to come to Washington. We planned it for the last week in July.

As far as Moscow was concerned, Latvia was still a Soviet Socialist Republic at the time. The powers that be in Washington, D.C., disagreed. The U.S. had never recognized the legality of Soviet rule in Latvia, and thus had never recognized any of the Soviet government officials that claimed to represent Latvia. Technically, Godmanis and Jurkāns were also Soviet Latvian government officials because they had acquired their positions by the rules of the Soviet system they were imprisoned in.

But Godmanis and Jurkāns represented a government that was pulling away from the Soviet yoke and was moving toward the restoration of the Republic of Latvia that had first been established in 1918. Latvia had established diplomatic ties with the U.S. in 1922 and its legation in Washington, D.C., was still recognized by the U.S. as Latvia’s only legal representative. In 1990 the legation was headed by Charges d’affaires Anatols Dinbergs, a career Latvian diplomat who first came to the U.S. in 1939 and continued to serve his country as a diplomat in exile for more than 50 years.

While Dinbergs was sympathetic to the goals of the Godmanis’ government, he could not officially represent it because it was still under Soviet control. Since the legation couldn’t organize the visit, that responsibility fell to the ALA. I booked a hotel room, rented a car, set up an itinerary and did my best to drum up inside-the-beltway interest for the visit of two Latvian statesmen from behind the Iron Curtain.

During a whirlwind week in Washington we met with congressmen, senators, foreign policy experts and think tank pundits. Godmanis appeared on CNN and even the State Department rolled out a diplomatically nuanced carpet for a meeting with the prime and foreign ministers of a government that was defying the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics.

It had never occurred to us to hope for a meeting at the White House with Bush until we met with Sen. Robert Byrd, a Democrat and one of the most distinguished elder statesmen in the U.S. Senate. I note with sadness the recent passing of Sen. Byrd, because it was his feistiness that put Latvia in the White House that week. During our meeting, the silver-haired senator from West Virginia asked us when we were going to meet with President Bush. We said no such meeting was scheduled. Byrd said: “Nonsense, I’ll make a call.”

And so he did. Later that evening I got a call from one of Sen. Byrd’s aides telling me that a White House meeting with the president was set for next week.

I was not only the chauffeur for Godmanis and Jurkāns, but also their advisor and escort, and on July 30, 1990, the three of us entered the gates of the White House and were ushered into the Oval Office for a 15-minute “courtesy visit: with President Bush. The meeting lasted 40 minutes and when we faced the press outside the West Wing doors, it was clear that Latvia had moved another step closer to full independence.

Many criticize President Bush for taking so long to restore full diplomatic relations with Latvia in 1991 (the U.S. was the 27th country to do so). But many forget that a year earlier, in 1990, President Bush extended a hand of support to all three Baltic countries in their quest for independence. That same summer he met with Lithuanian Prime Minister Prunskienė and Estonian Prime Minister Savisaar. These highly visible meetings brought media attention and sent unmistakable political signals to capitals around the world. Not only Moscow, but the rest of the international foreign policy community got the message: the U.S. was prepared to stand behind the people and governments that sought to restore their independence in Latvia, Lithuania and Estonia.

While this may seem like ancient history to some, it does undermine the old cliché that in international relations “there are no friends, just interests.” I guess we can speculate on the interests that prompted the late Byrd, a senator from the Democratic Party, to convince a president from the Republican Party, to meet with two upstarts from Latvia who were defying the Communist Party. But I saw it as an act of friendship.

And so, when I read tributes to Byrd, the longest-serving member of the Congress in the history of the United States, I think about how once, a good friend helped Latvia make a little history, too.

When I was lobbying for Latvia’s independence in the late 1980s, I used to tell Washington politicians that the Soviet and Nazi occupations of Latvia were just a brief 50-year interruption in the history of the Latvian Republic.

When Latvia’s independence was restored in 1991, I had the honour of joining one Latvian state institution that had indeed continued to function uninterrupted since 1918. A new exhibit at the Latvian Foreign Ministry shows just how this ministry both survived and renewed itself when Latvia restored its independence 20 years ago.

This 92-year long track record was made possible during the years of occupation by Latvia’s diplomats in exile, most notably Anatols Dinbergs, who maintained Latvia’s de jure status in London and Washington, D.C., for half a century. That is a story in and of itself. But the Foreign Ministry’s new exhibit focuses on the years of 1990–1991, when a new generation of inexperienced but decidedly determined diplomats in Rīga began to rebuild Latvia’s diplomatic corps and re-establish Latvia’s foreign relations with the rest of the world.

Actually, the re-establishment of the independent Republic of Latvia’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs began in May 1990, 15 months before Latvia’s independence was “re-recognized” internationally. Following the May 4, 1990, Supreme Council vote to restore independence, a new government was formed under the leadership of Prime Minister Ivars Godmanis. With the choice of Jānis Jurkāns as the new foreign minister, the “old” Foreign Ministry began to reconstitute itself.

The young men and women who assumed diplomatic duties at the small but eclectically elegant building at 11 Pils St. in Rīga’s Old Town had no formal training and no ties to the former Soviet regime that had previously occupied the building. They had a few old typewriters, some telephones of questionable reliability and a telex machine that enabled them to make limited contact with the outside world. What they didn’t lack was dedication, patriotism and a fierce commitment to learn the nuts and bolts of their newly assumed diplomatic craft.

The exhibit in the vestibule of the Foreign Ministry displays some of those phones, as well as other seemingly ancient artifacts from 20 years ago, including passports, diplomatic notes, photographs and other ministry memorabilia. You can see the ministry’s first “mobile” phone, a bulky Panasonic that was the size of a small toolbox and weighed several kilos.

The remarkable thing is that while the glass cases reveal the stuff of the past, many of the people who used that stuff are still with the ministry today. In fact, Latvia’s last two foreign ministers, Aivis Ronis and Māris Riekstiņš, both began their careers in those early years. So did Latvia’s present Defence Minister Imants Lieģis.

Fresh-faced foreign service officers like Mārtiņš Virsis, Ints Upmacis, Ivars Pundurs, Alberts Sarkanis, Argita Daudze, Normans Penke, Aivars Vovers and Atis Sjanītis, who were opening embassies and establishing diplomatic contacts in the early ‘90s, are today experienced elder statesmen with ambassador rank in Latvia’s diplomatic corps. If it seems like Anita Prince, Bonifācijs Daukšts, Klāvs Sniedze and Irēna Putniņa have been with the Foreign Ministry forever, you’re probably right. (For anyone under the age of 20 today, that is forever.)

Sandra Kalniete was the ministry’s first chief of protocol, went on to become ambassador, foreign minister, and European Union commissioner, and today serves as a member of the European Parliament.

One of the glass cases displays Foreign Minister Jurkāns’ first diplomatic passport with the number 00003 (No. 00001 was given to Popular Front leader Dainis Īvāns, 00002 to Chairman of the Supreme Council Anatolijs Gorbunovs, and 00004 to Prime Minister Ivars Godmanis). The blanks for these original diplomatic passports had to be shipped to Rīga from the Latvian Legation in Washington, D.C., where they had been safeguarded for half a century.

In his recollections as the first foreign minister of the renewed ministry, Jurkāns also gives generous credit to Latvia’s leading exile organisation, the World Federation of Free Latvians (Pasaules brīvo latviešu apvienība), and its leaders, Gunārs Meierovics, Jānis Ritenis and Egils Levits. They not only helped their Rīga colleagues with the re-establishment of the diplomatic corps and sundry legal documents, but also went on to become ministers in ensuing Latvian governments. The stately conference room next to the ministry’s vestibule is named after Meierovics’ father, Latvia’s first foreign minister, Zigfrīds Anna Meierovics.

The exhibit includes a 52-minute documentary film called “The Renewers,” which focuses on the recollections and life stories of 16 individuals who played key roles in re-establishing the work of the Foreign Ministry in 1990 and 1991. But that’s only a tribute to the last 20 years. The rest of the story, I’m happy to say, is to be continued.