Undoubtedly the greatest talking point of the forthcoming Saeima (parliament) elections on Oct. 5 is the appearance of a completely new political party, New Era (Jaunais laiks), which had stormed to first place in pre-election polling. It is not surprising to see previously nonexistent parties rapidly come to prominence and do very well in Latvian elections, but New Era’s rise does have some unusual features. How much headway can it make?

The last Saeima election in 1999 produced the following result in the 100-seat parliament: People’s Party (Tautas partija), 24 seats; Latvia’s Way (Latvijas ceļš), 21; For Fatherland and Freedom/Latvian National Independence Movement (TB/LNNK), 17; National Harmony Party (now For Human Rights in a United Latvia, or Par cilvēka tiesībām vienotā Latvijā), 16; Latvian Social Democratic Labour Party, 14; and New Party (Jaunā partija), 8.

New Era sees itself as being able to compete directly with the centre-right People’s Party, the centrist Latvia’s Way and the New Party (which has fractured and is not likely to be reelected), as well as with the nationalist For Fatherland and Freedom coalition. It is also not without hope of attracting some social democrat votes. Each of these parties has declined in popularity in much recent polling.

Of all the unusual features of New Era’s rise, perhaps most startling of all was party’s founder and leader Einars Repše saying that he wishes to have a majority in his own right in the new Saeima. This would be an unprecedented outcome, as all Latvian governments have always been coalitions. While certainly leading in the polls at the moment, it is still only attracting around 20 percent of support, a substantial base, but not near a majority in the 100-seat Saeima.

As with most Latvian political parties, it is difficult to see policies of New Era differing widely from the other parties, except in one sphere—its promise of honesty and of being accountable for its decisions.

Otherwise, New Era is broadly centre-right in its orientation, much the same as the People’s Party and to some extent Latvia’s Way. And most of its policies—which are always hard to work out in the Latvian context—broadly represent what is the dominant orientation anyway in Latvian politics: pro-Europe and NATO; for economic expansion and steady but controlled privatisation; and pro-Latvian in citizenship and language issues but mindful of European imperatives in these areas.

But as with so many other parties, it is people rather than politics that are noticed, and New Era is essentially the creation of its prominent leader, Einars Repše. Repše was one of the diligent workers for Latvian independence in the late 1980s and early 1990s, at that time as part of the People’s Front and For Fatherland and Freedom.

However, he did not serve long as a politician, being given instead the crucial position of head of the Bank of Latvia. While not an economist (like many of Latvia’s independence leaders he was a physics and mathematics graduate), he made a long-term impact in this position. He supervised the change from the old Soviet rouble to the transitional Latvian rouble (often call repsīši), which soaked up the booming inflation in the immediate post-independence period, until being replaced by the reintroduced lats. This currency, despite many predictions to the contrary, has proven to be highly stable.

When financial difficulties arose, Repše refused to take the way out that was taken so often by Russia and other former Soviet countries—printing money—thus making himself very unpopular with a number of governments struggling to make ends meet. This policy maintained the currency and pleased Europe and the International Monetary Fund, but also led to many problems. The cost of credit hurt struggling new businesses and the high exchange rate also was criticised. A number of spectacular bank crashes hit Latvia in the mid 1990s, as they did most other Eastern European countries, though the Bank of Latvia always claimed supervision by a central bank could only go so far.

This history has meant that while probably not widely loved, Repše is seen as a major figure largely untouched by scandal and corruption, and willing to make and stand by difficult decisions that provided part of the basis for Latvian’s economic recovery. He has also carefully chosen his team, few of whom are widely known politically, but who are mostly in responsible managerial or economic positions.

However, while ability to control the economy is a proud part of New Era’s claims, it is not what has gained it most attention. The party has been trying to persuade voters that it truly is a party that will be responsible to the voters and that will work for the national interest. The party tried to demonstrate this in a quite unprecedented and controversial way: the party’s candidates held a special church service, presided over by some of Latvia’s leading clergy, at which they solemnly declared they would work in the interests of the nation. In a country where politicians are seen as essentially self-interested, such a move drew equal amounts of admiration and cynicism, with other parties claiming this was a totally illegitimate use of the church to further political ends, and only signaled the party’s naivety.

New Era also continues the populist tradition of newly formed parties, arguing that the national interest has been betrayed by self-interested decision-making by incumbent politicians. The People’s Party in 1999 made a similar pitch. Yet The People’s Party, like many others that have been part of governing coalitions, is now suffering a backlash.

This is an abiding feature of Latvian and indeed Eastern European politics. Parties that have dominated in a parliament or government but are unable to adequately address all the myriad problems are in danger in subsequent elections. Latvia’s Way, which has formed part of every post-independence government, is also suffering a downturn in support, as is the nationalist For Fatherland & Freedom group.

The peculiarities of the Latvian electoral system fade in comparison to the complexities of Latvian political parties. The seeming unpredictability and instability of the party system is well illustrated in this period of build-up to the Saeima (parliament) elections on Oct. 5.

Currently we see:

• Twenty parties or coalitions are competing in the elections, with anything up to half that number having a chance of gaining seats in the Saeima.
• The most popular party in the pre-election period is a new one—Jaunais laiks (New Era)—which is loudly arguing it wishes to be an unprecedented animal, that is, a party with a majority in its own right. It appears set to be the largest, though probably not majority, party in the new Saeima.
• Several established parties are fighting for their lives, mindful of what happened in the previous (7th Saeima) elections in 1999 when two of the largest parties elected in 1996 failed to be reelected at all!
• Having emerged from the Soviet Union, Latvia adopted a restricted citizenship, excluding Soviet period settlers from voting, a view endorsed by virtually every party of significance. However, the one party that is arguing for unrestricted citizenship, changes to language laws, and which is most pro-Russian in its politics, is now steadily maintaining its place as the second most popular party in Latvia: the coalition For Human Rights in Unified Latvia (Par cilvēka tiesībām vienotā Latvijā, or PCTVL).
• The conservative, rural Farmers Union (Zemnieku savienība), historically one of Latvia’s strongest parties has been revived and has entered into a highly unusual coalition with the Greens (Zaļā partija)—a hitherto never seen coalition in any liberal democracy.
• That, meanwhile, the most dominant party in Latvian politics is not the largest. Latvia’s Way (Latvijas ceļš) has not been the largest party in the Saeima after the last two elections, but has been in every government coalition and supplied the bulk of prime ministers.

The poor voter could well be forgiven for needing a stiff shot of Melnais balzāms to believe all this is happening and wondering how to make a choice from this muddle.

How did Latvia get to this situation?

First, in the four Saeima elections before World War II, the party system would have been broadly recognisable to anyone familiar with European politics. The two largest parties in all Saeimas were the Latvian Social Democratic Labour Party on the left, and the Farmers Union on the right. There were then several smaller left, right or centre parties that made various coalitions possible. This reflected the standard pattern of representation in European parliaments right down to the present day. Complicating this matter slightly in Latvia was the preponderance of very tiny parties (through proportional representation, 1 percent of the vote gave you a seat). Some of these microparties were hard to place on a left-right continuum, but they did not affect the overall look of the Saeima.

The post-Soviet period has seen a very different party logic.

Instead of a recognisable left-right spectrum, the Soviet experience and the necessity to re-establish a Latvian state made national questions far more relevant than any left or right distinctions. Virtually all parties (except for PCTVL) supported a particular direction on these national questions: restricted citizenship, Latvian language laws and pro-European Union and pro-NATO policies. This did not mean all the parties were overtly nationalistic in any extreme way, though often this is how they were portrayed. With most parties more or less agreeing on these issues, the parliament has been dominated by the parties of what could be called a managerial or bureaucratic middle, such as Latvia’s Way and other centrist parties.

But that’s only part of the story. While there was broad agreement on national directions, the lack of economic progress and instances of breakdown of social order proved difficult or any government or party to handle. Almost hydraulically, parties that have been prominent in one election often suffer at the next. This has resulted in an increasing suspicion of politicians—particularly of those who held posts in the Soviet period—that they are continuing their old ways of corruption and authoritarianism.

This leads to the next two significant features in the pattern of party representation.

One feature is the continual rise and fall of populist or managerialist parties claiming grandiosely to be able to put things right, to drive out corrupt politicians, but themselves falling due to their own inability to change matters (particularly economically) or, as it turned out, their own corruption. Thus, neither of the two largest parties elected in 1996 were reelected in 1999. One was the Joachim Zigerists’ “For Latvia” organisation, a clearly populist party that gave out material rewards to voters (the infamous bananas and beer!) and criticised established politicians for their inability to help the poor. The other, Saimnieks (Economist) consisted of Soviet era managers arguing they would put things managerially right again but fell through their own overt corruption.

Second, in a situation where most party platforms often seem identical, irrelevant or untrustworthy, many voters see salvation in finding the right, non-corrupt and trustworthy individual, rather than a particular party. At the pervious Saeima elections, a new party, the People’s Party (Tautas partija) was the largest single party, headed by a successful and popular businessman and former Prime Minister Andris Šķēle. This time around the People’s Party has lost some of its shine because of Šķēle’s own problems. The newest party on the block, New Era, owes its popularity to it being led by one of the few significant figures in Latvia not overtly tainted by corruption—former Bank of Latvia Gov. Einars Repše, whose policies maintained an extremely stable currency over the past 10 years which has provided one of the most significant bases for economic growth in Latvia. He has deliberately picked a list of candidates that avoids anyone who as been linked to scandals or to questionable policies, and has embarked on a wide program of convincing the electorate of the party’s bona fides.

Will this pattern change? The Social Democrats gained representation for the first time at the previous elections, but interestingly they have also portrayed themselves as orthodoxly nationalist. On some issues, such as language policy, they have been if anything more “nationalist” than say the centre party, Latvia’s Way. We are only beginning to see the emergence of anything like a traditional left-right spectrum.

It’s an election year in Latvia. Some of us who have grown up in western democracies and are now citizens of Latvia again will need to cast a vote, which is an often confusing experience. Others will simply be observers, wanting to know Latvia better, but finding its politics hard to follow.

If you feel confused, you are not alone: Latvia does have a radically different electoral system to that of most countries, not to mention a highly confusing party system!

The Latvian electoral system

In Latvia the parliament is unicameral. In other words, there is only one legislative house (the Saeima) and there is no upper house.

As in most countries, an election in Lativa is fought out between political parties, but on the basis of proportional representation. Voters do not cast ballots for a a member of parliament who represents a local area, but parties get candidates into the Saeima on the basis of the proportion of votes that the party as a whole obtains. Latvia is divided into five electoral regions—Kurzeme, Latgale, Rīga, Vidzeme and Zemgale—and in each region parties will get representation proportional to the vote received. Voters living outside Latvia are counted as part of the Rīga region.

This system of proportional representation was adopted for important historical reasons. After World War I, the powers at the Versailles peace talks (and later in the League of Nations) were very concerned about issues of minority rights. Minority issues particularly in the Balkans had directly led to World War I. It was considered that the new states in Eastern Europe that emerged after World War I should provide specific guarantees of minority rights in their constitutions. An electoral system allowing the broadest possible representation was favoured. Any significant minority should be able to get its candidates into the parliament, and proportional representation provided a way of doing this.

Proportional representation of some kind is still widely practiced in Europe. Of course, one down side of this system is that often there is no one clear majority party. After each election many parties are represented, and forming an effective government is difficult. Up to 30 parties were represented in the four pre-war parliaments in Latvia, and this was the ostensible reason for the ending of party democracy and the usurping of power by President Kārlis Ulmanis in 1934. This was more or less what happened in almost all Eastern (and many Western) European countries in the inter-war period; Latvia was not exceptional.

To save a repeat of the situation where many parties had just one or two members in the Saeima—leading to endless political instability and horse-trading—Latvia has introduced a 5 percent hurdle. Any party must get 5 percent of the vote to get any candidates in the Saeima. This has led to a drastic reduction in the number of parties represented in the Saeima, but has not resulted in any party having a majority after any Saeima election. The tradition of coalition government continues.

How to cast your vote

To vote in the proportional representation system, an elector receives a thick bundle of voting lists, one for each party standing, and from these they select and deposit in the ballot envelope just one such list. Choose your party, and vote for it.

So far, so simple. However, there is one further important feature: on the list of candidates of their chosen party, electors may place a “+” next to candidates, or they may cross out any number of names on the list, to indicate their attitude to individual candidates. A “+” next to a candidate’s name gives that candidate an “extra vote” relative to all the other candidates on that party list. Correspondingly, the crossing out of a candidate’s name loses that candidate a vote relative to all other candidates on that list. Thus, even when choosing a party, you can indicate a positive or negative attitude towards individual candidates of that party. This is to overcome a situation where you are forced to vote for a list even though some individuals on that list do not appeal to you.

Wherever you live or vote, I am sure that many of you would sometimes welcome the opportunity to cross out someone’s name on your ballot!

Which candidates on the party list are elected? The order of candidates on the list is determined by the party when handing in a list of candidates to the Central Elections Commission. Candidates are listed in order as the party prefers them. Whatever percentage of the ballots a party gets, that percentage of the party’s candidates are declared elected, in the order they appear on the ballot (give or take any changes made by the “+” marks or negations of individual candidates).

And just one final nuance. It is possible for candidates to stand in as many regions as they wish. Popular candidates will do this to attract more votes to their party.

You bet it’s confusing!

The system is even confusing to the people in Latvia. The Soviet system did have elections of a kind, but they were based not on proportional representation (after all, there was only one party!) but on local candidates in a specific electoral area. Interestingly, the last Latvian Supreme Soviet, elected in 1990 when the Soviet Union was rapidly changing, consisted of locally elected deputies. Through all the struggles of the following years, local electors often put considerable pressure on their deputies, and the deputies often felt accountable to their electorate.

This points to the second significant drawback of proportional representation, apart from always leading to coalition governments. That is, that voters do not feel like they have someone who is clearly identified as “their” local representative in the Saeima. Voters can never identify a local politician, and politicians can often have the feeling that they are not really directly responsible to electors. This is just one of the factors leading to considerable political disillusionment among voters.

Those who are used to voting in systems where we elect local members of a parliament or a congress (as for example in the United States, the United Kingdom, Canada or Australia) will always find this Latvian system strange. But it is important to remember that, not unlike other systems, you are in the end voting for one party.