May Day 2004. Instead of the workers of the world (or at least Europe) uniting, ten new nations of the European Union celebrated their membership. Eight of the 10 new members are former socialist states trying desperately to prove their democratic, free market and liberal credentials to a still somewhat sceptical West. Of these, Latvia gained a somewhat unexpected prominence during the day. Several international observers noted that the EU celebrations were much louder and more jubilant in Latvia than anywhere else. This was a very public event in Latvia, and comments flew that one of the poorest of the new countries was the one celebrating hardest.

Can we speculate on why this was the case? Are Latvians naturally the celebratory type? Have the experiences of Eurovision and Rīga 800 got the locals into the habit of celebrating? Or more cynically or practically, depending on your perspective, were the celebrations in anticipation of plentiful EU money flowing in Latvia’s direction—and who indeed does not want to escape poverty?

As in many cases, the perceptions from outside were not the perceptions from inside. Within Latvia, the feeling was one not only of joy but of a kind of safety being reached. Even accession to the NATO defense alliance, which had already been finalised in March, did not bring about such a fundamental emotion of relief and a daring to hope for lasting security.

Such a feeling did have some solid basis in the diplomatic settlements that were made surrounding accession to the EU. The EU and Russia, after negotiations that went up almost to the last day, finally agreed on a formula by which Russia would agree to treat all new nations as they treated any other EU nation in terms of economic relations. Russia’s long-standing claim that the Russian minority situation in Estonia and Latvia demanded an exceptional relation to these countries was eventually written out of the final agreements.

Yet this will not be the end of the matter because the stakes, in Moscow’s view, are very high indeed. The long-cherished aim of having Russian become an official state language in Estonia and Latvia could lead to Russian becoming one of the official languages of the EU, as well as strengthening Moscow’s voice internally in these countries in support of the Russian-speaking population. With border agreements between Russia and Estonia and Latvia not yet finalised, battles over minority issues may well intensify, as seen in the recent opposition to secondary school reform in Latvia. Moreover, the willingness of the EU to grant membership to countries that still had unresolved border issues testifies to the determination of the EU to press for new membership despite Moscow’s objections. For me this was one of the most encouraging signs of Europe not being seduced by newly re-elected President Vladimir Putin’s dark charms.

On this as on so many other matters, internal political strength, sense and consistency in Estonia and Latvia will determine the issue, not directives from the EU or relying on a still nebulous security guarantee. The worst outcome would be self-satisfaction with what has been achieved and an expectation that the EU will solve everyything, while continuing the worst of local practices of diverting EU money to private coffers.

But in fact accession to the EU will pose genuine dilemmas and issues that will not be able to be ignored.

One relates to foreign policy, and the clear split that has emerged in Europe between pro-American countries (basically the new candidate countries from Eastern Europe, with Poland very much in the lead) and perceived anti-American countries led by France and to some extent Germany. Latvia will need to make decisions on where it stands on a host of issues from the Iraq war (where it backs America) to the scope of the International Criminal Court (where it backs Europe) to what will become intensifying American attempts to fracture Europe and deny it a unified voice. There will be no hiding on many of these issues.

A second and more painful issue relates to how well Latvia’s own political and economic decision-making will be able to cope with the demands of EU membership. The frank question that must be asked is whether Latvia’s political system is up to the task of effective policy-making and administration of the standard expected of EU members. The appalling debacle of the fall of Prime Minister Einars Repše’s government just a few weeks before May 1, a string of poor appointments to ministerial posts, continuing concerns over corruption, and the immaturity and volatility of the political party system raise doubts as to the ability of the government to manage the benefits of EU membership in a way that will be felt by the ordinary citizen.

Ironically, what benefits will flow from EU membership now rest much more upon Latvia’s own maturity and its political and economic will, than upon the bureaucrats of Brussels. Latvia was right to celebrate a historic alliance in a union with an unprecedented record of progress and achievement. But an alliance can only ever be as strong as your own efforts to make it work and prosper.

Latvia’s result in the referendum about joining the European Union, with 67 percent of a strong turnout voting “yes,” delighted the government and EU supporters.

For many it was also a great relief, as the curiously lacklustre pro-EU campaign seemed to be in serious trouble in the months before the referendum. A stronger campaign in the last weeks, the virtually unanimous editorialising in favour by media, and relentless European advice to vote “yes” had their payoff.

Yet the pressure may not have been the most important factor. The clincher may have been the increasing understanding by the ordinary voter that the “no” case was becoming incoherent, and the consequences too potentially dangerous. For those championing the view that common sense would prevail, their trust in the Latvian citizen seems to have been vindicated.

The weeks since the referendum have seen little afterglow of success. The EU has engaged again in a long-standing debate over its constitution, and the new candidate countries are needing to battle hard to ensure they don’t ecome sidelined. Most importantly, they oppose the proposal that the European Commission have rotating membership for the smaller countries. At the moment all members have one commissioner, and the new members want this to continue for them. And there is wrangling over how many seats each will hold in the European Parliament.

After offering their congratulations on the referendum, EU representatives have also been keen to remind Latvia, among others, of the need to live up to the varying demands for accession by May 1 (when they will be formally admitted to the EU), including reform of administrative and particularly judicial arrangements.

And predictably, Russia still hopes to put a spoke in Latvia’s accession to the EU, unless its demands for the rights of Russian speakers and non-citizens are satisfied.

And the pleasure and pride that surrounded Latvia’s “yes” vote in the referendum has been shortlived for other, more internal, political reasons.

Those outside Latvia will have noticed that since the referendum there has been a period of increasing political instability in the coalition government, for reasons that do not seem at all clear. Those in Latvia will remember that this latest fight in the coalition was ignited precisely on the night of the referendum, when the leader of the Latvia First Party, Ēriks Jēkabsons, stole the limelight by warning of impending dictatorship and claiming that the coalition was finished unless Prime Minister Einars Repše stepped down. Three hours later Jēkabsons said the coalition would continue! Commentators were confused by this bombshell, which cut across the increasing euphoria of the positive referendum result.

Rifts in the coalition are not news. But the timing and subsequent history of this latest skirmish have been unusual to say the least.

Repše called his opponents’ bluff, and the subsequent weeks have seen an extraordinary backdown by his coalition partners. Most amazingly, those who were dissatisfied with Repše’s leadership were not prepared to put the matter to a vote of the coalition or the Saeima, but argued that Repše himself should realise he is disliked and should stand down of his own accord! (The reader is asked to imagine how many politicians they know who would indeed step down if so politely asked.)

It is not difficult to find reasons for the dislike of Repše. While a popular figure among Latvian voters, both in Latvia and the west, Repše has proven himself extremely rigid in his dealings with his coalition partners, demanding complete loyalty to decided policy but giving his coalition partners little say in the direction of that policy.

Keep in mind that in the 2002 election campaign Repše and his New Era party believed they could achieve what had never been achieved in Latvia before: an absolute majority in the Saeima. Falling short of that, Repše has continued to wield power as if such a majority had been achieved, with the coalition partners feeling increasingly squeezed.

Repše has continued to be popular among voters by claiming that he has to be given the powers to effectively solve national problems, particularly those of corruption and law and order, and to make his government and economy run in as businesslike a way as he was able to do in his former job as chief of the Bank of Latvia.

Yet this promise of being an effective reformer is increasingly becoming the image of an authoritarian leader with a populist appeal, and most seriously he does not seem to be delivering the goods. A number of poor or puzzling policy moves have characterised his first year of office.

Repše’s arbitrariness seems to be increasing, but his coalition partners are unable to act. It appears that the threat of an early Saeima election, however theoretical, did affect the scared rabbits among his coalition partners to back down on their criticisms. They well understand that Repše is so dominant in public perceptions—and the coalition parties have trouble gaining any recognition at all—that the prime minister might come closer to his desired majority next time around, at the expense of the coalition.

Having joined Europe may indeed have been a triumph for common sense, but there is little common sense being displayed by Latvia’s politicians around their own village pump.

In a Sept. 14 referendum, nearly 67 percent of Estonian voters said “yes” to joining the European Union. While a spirited “no” campaign had been waged, the issue in Estonia was never really in doubt. So far eight candidate countries have put this question to a referendum over the past year, and all have voted “yes.”

Latvia is now the last to hold a referendum, scheduled for Sept. 20. The past few weeks of feverish activity by pro-EU forces seems to have halted the steady rise of a “no” sentiment. And they will certainly loudly trumpet the Estonian result. Even at this late stage, however, a positive outcome is not guaranteed.

(A total of 10 nations have been invited to join the EU in 2004. Nine countries, including Latvia, decided to put the membership question to a popular referendum. Cyprus ratified membership without a referendum.)

Recent polls in Latvia show little change from that of July, with still a bare majority favouring “yes,” but with a huge question mark over whether those opposed will show up to vote.

The shoring up of support for a “yes” result seems to be a significant achievement of Latvia’s popular President Vaira Vīķe-Freiberga. The Latvian presidency is a largely formal position with only limited political power, and one which convention dictates stays out of day-to-day politics. On this issue Vīķe-Freiberga has chosen not to be a figurehead, but has thrown herself energetically into the campaign over the past month, riding her popularity to urge a positive vote.

Also—and ominously—she has warned the government that continued wrangling over the budget and other political sideshows can only harm the pro-EU cause. She has held numerous meetings with various social organisations and appeared at several public functions to encourage a “yes” vote, stressing the historically decisive nature of this decision for Latvia. And in case even this will not be enough, a host of European heavies including presidents and prime ministers have been visiting Rīga before the referendum to urge sceptical Latvians to embrace Europe.

Why has it been such hard labour for those who favour joining the EU? In terms of likely economic benefit, support for infrastructure, access to markets and the perceived security of the EU vis a vis Latvia’s eastern neighbour, the argument for joining the EU would seem to be quite self-evident. I wrote earlier about a series of political blunders that seem to have turned the populace against the government and by extension against the referendum on the EU, with proposed budget and welfare cuts being the main culprits. But the opposition to the EU has been more frustrating and more puzzling than simply a reaction to poor government politics. It seems also to demonstrate a tremendous shortcoming in public understanding of a complex but certainly not obscure issue.

Opposition to joining the EU has been much more a consolidation of untested prejudices almost stunning in their irrelevance yet with great ability to cause fear. Will petrol rise by 5 santīms or 15 santīms? Will all Latvian land be sold to foreigners? Will Latvia be flooded with immigrants of varied races? Will most farmers be put off the land?

Getting even more bizarre, Latvian chauvinists have argued that joining the EU will mean the EU will enforce Russian as a second official language, while Russian chauvinists have argued that joining the EU will obliterate Russian and lead to Latvian-only instruction in schools, thus scaring two large constituencies at the same time.

Equally concerning, however, has been the incompetence of much of the “yes” campaign—apart from the president’s intervention—in which official spokespeople have seemed poorly briefed on the EU, and offer only vague propaganda rather than specific information that could prove decisive.

The doyen of Latvian’s print journalists, Aivars Ozoliņš of Diena, has given the sternest warning, slamming the absolute irresponsibility of those who dithered with idiotic objections to the EU, or those who could not make up their minds because they seemed incapable of grasping the issues and the seriousness of the impending decision. He cites the example of a young Latvian opera singer, training elsewhere in Europe and looking forward to a life of European achievements, who when asked by journalists says she can’t make up her mind which way to vote in the referendum and changes her mind from day to day. What, asks Ozoliņš, changes from day to day in Latvia’s geopolitical situation, or its historical links to European culture, or the importance of the EU for Latvia’s economic or social future? Ozoliņš warns that the pro-EU camp’s assumption that the “simple common sense” of the people will bring the right result is a very dangerous assumption indeed.

Given this poor standard of public debate, are we seeing some uncomfortable evidence of a still infantile inability to face up to serious political decisions, and even more evidence of an astonishingly naive and provincial belief that sturdy Latvia can go it alone and doesn’t need anyone else for support?

Hopefully, the Estonian result, as well as Lithuania’s earlier decision, may just sway enough Latvian voters to follow their two neighbour states into the EU.

Unfortunately, the Estonian result is not the only international event that has shaken Baltic perceptions of the EU. The tragic assassination of Sweden’s foreign minister, Anna Lindh, in a Stockholm department store had reverberations. Swedes in their own referendum voted against joining the euro monetary zone. Although it is a staunch member, Sweden maintains a sceptical stance towards some of the projects of the EU, particularly the union’s perceived lack of democracy and accountability. Citizens are picking and choosing what they will or will not support regarding the EU, and despite Lindh’s enthusiastic advocacy of adopting the euro, even her dramatic death could not persuade Swedish voters.

The stakes could not be higher for Latvia.