Whew! The Latvian capital city of Rīga just finished being the European Cultural Capital, and the very next day all of Latvia became the presiding country of the Council of the European Union for the next six months! This is not an elected position, it comes around on a rotating basis once every … let me see, 28 member states, so once every 14 years. There has been mumbling in Brussels from time to time about the idea that this is rather silly, shifting the centre of operations, as it were, from Rome to Rīga and then on to Luxembourg City, as will be the case this time, but for the time being, the system is what it is.

In practical terms, this means that for the next half-year, Latvia will be able to set at least some of the agenda for the EU. Our government has said that priorities will include employment issues, further steps to overcome the consequences of the recent financial crisis, digitalization issues, the EU’s role in human rights defence across the globe, and particularly the European Union’s Eastern Partnership Programme, which seeks to develop relations with Eastern European countries that are not in the EU, but might want to become members in future. During the course of the presidency, our government ministers will become chairs of the relevant sectors at the EU level. A number of high-level meetings will be held, including a meeting of European and Asian education ministers, a summit meeting on standardisation in the EU, and particularly the Eastern Partnership Summit, which will bring together leaders from EU member states, as well as from the partnership countries (Armenia, Azerbaijan, Belarus, Georgia, Moldova and Ukraine). Fingers crossed that our ministers will be up to the task, seeing as how some of them are brand spanking-new ministers who only took office after last autumn’s parliamentary election. Fingers more precisely crossed that the same will be true of our civil servants, who will be doing the behind-the-scenes work to make sure that all proceeds smoothly.

(A parenthetical note, if one may: The centre of operations for the Latvian presidency will be at our comparatively brand spanking-new Latvian National Library, which means that for the duration, visitors to the library will have to enter through the back door, and they will find that much of the library is closed to them; be that as it may, if you happen to be in Latvia during the next six months, visit the library anyway – it is an architectural glory.)

The Eastern Partnership issue bears particular consideration for Latvia’s presidency, because, of course, to our East (and South) are not only the aforementioned EU member wannabes, but also a big country which would be just as happy to see the said wannabes far away from the EU (to say nothing of NATO). I refer, of course, to Russia, which is a country that appears to have endless stores of mischief and outright aggression in relation to what the Kremlin continues to consider its “sphere of influence” in geopolitical terms. Readers will know what this means. Of the aforementioned six countries, three, or one-half, have territory that is occupied by Russia either supposedly permanently (Abkhazia and South Ossetia in Georgia, Transnistria in Moldova, Crimea in Ukraine) or at least temporarily (the Donbas in Ukraine). Moscow is betting, and not without reason, that the EU will not admit for membership any country that has outstanding border issues with another. Here it bears remembering that the absence of a border treaty between Latvia and Russia at one time was seen as a potential stumbling block for our own membership, though in the event the treaty was only ratified three years after Latvia joined the EU and NATO.

What might Putin do? I would say God only knows, but I suppose that even God with all of his omniscience doesn’t have a clear sense about this. It is clear that the sanctions that were imposed against Russia by the West in the wake of Putin’s grand adventures in Ukraine have started to bite and bite hard. Readers will know that over the past month or two, the value of the Russian rouble has basically collapsed. International companies that operate in Russia have found themselves having to change the price of their goods and services, as denominated in roubles, once a day or even more often. Inflation has been rising rapidly. Capital outflow from Russia, active for some time now, has turned into a raging torrent. The embargo on Western food products that Moscow imposed in response to the sanctions has in many cases resulted in food shortages. Russian leaders may smirk about visa restrictions that have been established on them, but it is clear that in many cases they are inconveniences for grand poohbahs who are no longer able to visit their villas in the South of France or whatever.

Now, in a normal country, all of this would turn public opinion against the ruling regime. In Russia, however, the Kremlin’s nearly total monopolisation of the mass media, and particularly the broadcast media, has ensured an endless flow of mendacious propaganda to suggest that Russia has done nothing wrong, the problem is that the wicked West has always conspired against it with the aim of bringing it to its knees. Putin said so in a speech a while back – even if Russia hadn’t begun to meddle in Ukraine, he said (thus, incidentally, more or less admitting something that he had steadfastly denied – that Russian troops are actually in Ukraine), the West would have found some other excuse to do what it is doing. The current government in Ukraine is made up of fascists. All of the bloodshed in Ukraine has been the doing of the said fascists (Russian TV has gone so far as to show grotesque pictures from conflicts in the former Yugoslavia and Chechnya and claim that they are from South-eastern Ukraine). And so on.

With respect to the Eastern Partnership countries, it is not just Russia’s occupation of land. There is also the so-called Eurasian Union that has been Putin’s baby for the past decade and more. Initially established by Russia, Kazakhstan and Belarus on the ruins of the old Confederacy of Independent States, the union is intended to be a counterweight to the EU. Readers will remember that it was specifically former Ukrainian President Viktor Yanukovich’s decision to turn toward the Eurasian Union and away from the European Union that led to the protests that quite quickly caused him to close down shop and flee like the sinking-ship rat that he was. Certainly the new Ukrainian government has no interest whatsoever in re-joining the clutches of the Russian bear. By contrast, Armenia has signed up to the Eurasian Union, and its membership took effect on January 1 this year. It will be interesting to see what the Armenians will have to say when they turn up at the Eastern Partnership summit in Rīga.

There is also, of course, the issue of energy. Moscow has never been shy about using its natural gas supplies as a geopolitical tool of blackmail. True, this tool was more effective back when the price of oil was high. Now that it is very low, the room for manoeuvre for Gazprom is rather limited, because Russia’s national budget, such as it is, is predicated on the assumption that oil prices will be high. Still, it is worth noting here that last autumn, amidst much pomp and circumstance, Lithuania opened a new liquefied gas terminal that, crucially, will be appropriate for receiving so-called shale gas from the United States. Latvia’s government, by contrast, has spent years discussing whether it might possibly start to analyse the eventuality of perhaps considering a discussion about whether to debate the issue of maybe building a terminal of its own and then to ponder where to put it … that kind of thing. Enough said.

Finally, there is the Russian military. Readers will know that in recent times Russian warplanes have been regularly skirting and sometimes entering the airspace of NATO member states such as Latvia. The alliance has been forced to regularly scramble its own warplanes to go and chase the intruders away. This is a potentially dangerous game of one-upmanship. It is accompanied by a lower-level so-called hybrid war, which includes the aforementioned mendacious propaganda (Russian television channels are freely available here in Latvia, too, and it is worth noting that at least a few residents of our country have taken it to mean that they, too, should go to South-eastern Ukraine to fight against the “fascists”), as well as cyber-attacks of various kinds. It was no accident that the EU decided to place its main cyber-security centre in Estonia, which suffered a vast cyber-attack, almost certainly if not from the Kremlin, then certainly with its blessing, after the so-called “bronze soldier” riots.

The $64,000 question here is whether Vladimir Putin is crazy enough to launch a real conflict against NATO. There is a body of thought in Russia itself that suggests that messing around in places such as Ukraine and Moldova will not scratch the dictator’s itch, because such countries are not in the EU or NATO, and thus Russia’s intervention there does not affect Western interests directly. The Baltic States, which are in the EU and NATO, are a different matter, and they may prove to be too tempting a piece of fruit for the Kremlin to resist.

I doubt that this is true. After years of dilly-dallying about Baltic security plans, NATO in more recent times has been saying more and more clearly that if necessary, it will take all necessary steps to defend the three republics, as provided for in the famous Article 5 of the NATO Treaty. There are boots on the ground here already, so to speak – American and other soldiers who are here for the duration. Plus, of course, for some years now NATO has been providing the warplanes that are necessary for monitoring Baltic airspace, something for which we can be grateful not least because Latvia, of course, has no warplanes of its own. Far from it. This, among other things, has, with increasing urgency, brought up the issue of Baltic defence spending. Estonia spends the requisite 2% of GDP. Latvia does not and, even with all that is going on in Ukraine, will not until 2020 at the earliest. Once again – enough said. Readers may roll their eyes if they wish.

All that said, I do not believe that Latvia needs to fear for its security. It is likely that during the EU presidency Latvia will face various kinds of harassment from Russia, as Lithuania did do when it held the presidency during the second half of 2013. But Russia at this time is a wounded bear. The occasional swipe of a paw may be all that it is capable of right now. And I say again – NATO is standing guard. Amen.

In domestic politics, a big event this year will be a presidential election. Readers will know that Latvia’s president is elected by Parliament, not the public, and even though the new Parliament has a number of parties that wish to institute a popularly elected presidency, there is little chance that this will happen in time for the election that is to take place in June (and, for various reasons, it would not be a good idea even after that; that would be the topic for a separate column). The incumbent president, Andris Bērziņš, has not yet said whether he will seek a second term in office. He has been a mediocre president, I must say. No great orator. An excessive focus on business issues at the expense of human rights. Occasional weirdness (as in public ruminations a while back as to whether there really is any reason for Latvia to spend the money that is necessary to take over the EU presidency, as if this were not an automatic process). I believe that it would be just as well if he decided to retire, though that would mean the usual political ruckus in Parliament to come up with an alternative.

Finally, socially conservative readers may wish to skip this paragraph, but also in June, Rīga will host the European LGBT Pride event, Europride. Thousands of people are expected to visit the Latvian capital for the event, and although homophobic types have already been trying to organise a protest of opposition, the event will occur, and it will be a proud and magnificent event. All for the good.

All in all, I believe that Latvians can feel secure about their motherland during 2015. The economy is doing OK, just OK. The 2015 national budget is perhaps predicated upon excessively optimistic expectations of growth, but there will be growth. As noted, security in the primary sense of the word is abetted by the world’s most powerful military alliance. What remains to be hoped is that our politicians will simply demonstrate common sense in response to the various challenges that they will face. Of course, as always in politics, that is easier said than done, but fingers crossed anyway.

What can you do if you live in Chicago or London or Perth or Walla Walla? If you are religious, pray for Latvia. If you have the wherewithal, you can help financially. The Vītols Foundation, for instance (www.vitolufonds.lv), administers hundreds of scholarships to help needy students pursue a higher education. You can set up one of your own if you wish.

But above all, come visit! Not right now. It’s sloppy and messy outside with snow and especially slush. But think about it during the summer. I know that the American Latvian Association will once again be running its “Hi, Latvia” programme for American Latvian teenagers. I know this because one of my nephews will be one of those to take part. Why not come along with your kid? If you’ve never been here, I recommend it. Architecture fans will be agog at the variety of architectural styles, particularly Art Nouveau, that can be seen in Rīga. Countryside types can visit hundreds of guesthouses and inns all across the country (see www.laukucelotajs.lv for a list). It is a sad fact that during the summer, most of Latvia’s cultural institutions are shut down, but if you come in the spring or the autumn, there will be hardly an evening when you will not be able to attend a world-class theatrical or musical performance of one type or another. Come. You won’t regret it.

And keep on reading “Latvians Online.” Keep on reading Latvian news portals. Be up on what’s going on here, particularly if you are a citizen of the Republic of Latvia and plan to or have been taking part in elections. All of us have only these 64,569 square kilometres (almost precisely the same size as West Virginia in the United States) of cherished motherland. For all intents and purposes, the fact that ours is the independent Republic of Latvia is something of a miracle. It could all have gone differently both in the early 1920s and in the wake of the collapse of the Soviet Union. We can all work to make it a better place. Of course, that is easier done if one actually lives here (in September it will be 25 years since I fetched up on these shores – where does the time go?), but, as noted, there are things that you can do, too. You can polish up your Latvian language skills, for instance. Yes, it’s not the easiest language in the world what with all of the cases and declinations and diacritical markings and what not, but knowing Latvian will allow you and your friends to talk about Americans or Canadians or Australians without them knowing what you’re saying. That’s something. And definitely make sure that your kids learn the language. Three hours on Saturday at the local Latvian school and six weeks at a summer camp won’t do the trick if you don’t lay the foundation at home. Perhaps one day your children will want to live and work in Latvia. That won’t work without the language. Don’t deny them the opportunity.

Happy New Year, everyone! It is wonderful that our country is free.

 

For the past eight or nine years, making pīrāgs, those baked Latvian bacon buns, has been a Christmas tradition in our household. More precisely, it has been my tradition, my contribution to Christmas.

It doesn’t always go smoothly. I only make them once a year so every time I roll up my sleeves, I need to jog my somewhat limited culinary skills. Sometimes I don’t nail the dough and it takes a lot of coaxing and off-colour muttering to get it to rise properly. I’m told I get sloppy with the egg wash. Other times my pīrāgs will open up in the oven. I then call them peek-a-boo pīrāgs. I think I may be onto something because I’ve seen photos from Vincents in Riga run by expat chef extraordinaire Mārtiņš Rītiņš with his pīrāgs showing their bacon. And if I get a late start and it’s past midnight as I hit my 100^th pīrāgs, you might hear me muttering a bah humbug or two. But the job gets done and there are no complaints. The pīrāgs usually disappear over the next few days as members of the household graze. I’m told I should bake them more often.

Judging by photos posted by my Facebook friends, making pīrāgs is a ritual that is repeated around the globe by those with Latvian roots. This even in the Toronto area where the Latvian Centre bakes and sells them on a regular basis. I’m told they fly off the shelves even at $1.25 per pīrāgs.

Pīrāgs is Latvian comfort food. You can have them with coffee at breakfast, soup at lunch, as a side at supper and snack on them in between. If push came to shove, you could survive on them comfortably for days.

In my travels researching the history of Latvians in Canada’s Manitoba province, I have been told and seen pictures of pīrāgs still being made in Lac Du Bonnet homes where Latvian pioneers and fleeing 1905 revolutionaries settled more than a hundred years ago. I have been served pīrāgs by a wonderful lady, an octogenarian, who lives six hours from Winnipeg in rural Manitoba. She was born to a Latvian pioneer family that came to what was then wilderness from Latvia via Brazil.

Pīrāgs is the ultimate survivor. It has transcended time and geography. The tasty morsel has become an embodiment of Latvian heritage.

Putting aside the large recent outflow of Latvians heading west for better economic opportunities, the Latvian Diaspora was formed and run for many years by those fleeing the Soviet occupation of Latvia. Even though community leadership has been taken over by their baby boomer offspring, or at least those still engaged because the majority have drifted to the periphery and beyond, old attitudes still prevail. Many would dismiss the pīrāgs as being void of cultural substance. Akin to Oktoberfest, oom-pah and lederhosen German.

But the fact is that pīrāgs are still being made and chomped down by second, third and fourth generation Canadians, Americans, Australians and Brits with few other connections to their Latvian heritage apart from memories and family stories passed down from their parents, grandparents and great-grandparents.

The Post World War II Latvian Diaspora is still focused on the exception. As an example, the focus is on the one in ten children and youths of Latvian descent who attend Latvian Sunday schools or Garezers summer high school in Michigan. The one in ten Garezers graduates who make their way back to Latvia. No doubt about it, Garezers is a wonderful place where Latvian language, history and culture are taught. It must be sustained and participation encouraged. But what about the one in ten who don’t make it to Garezers? Or the ninety-nine out of a hundred who don’t make it back to Latvia? What about those for whom that ultimate Latvian survivor, the pīrāgs, is one of their few Latvian connections?

There are around two million Latvian speakers in the world and less than one and a half million Latvians in Latvia. That’s not a lot. It’s smaller than many cities in Europe and North America. A nation with numbers that small cannot be picky. It must reach out to those of Latvian descent in the pale and beyond be they 100%, 75%, 50%, 25% or even 12.5% Latvian by blood. It must venture into pīrāgs territory.

The Latvian Diaspora must do so by being multi-tier, inclusive and modular.

Latvian language skills, be they a limited vocabulary or complete fluency, must be encouraged. At the same time the reality of a second language be it English, Spanish, German, Swedish or Russian needs to be recognized. There need to be ways to engage those with poor or even no Latvian language skills.

The Diaspora needs to be welcoming to all who have or are seeking a Latvian connection, be they newbies from Latvia, descendants of Latvian immigrants or those who have drifted away from the community and are circling back. It also needs to welcome any non-Latvian partners who wish to engage.

The Latvian experience abroad can only be modular. It cannot be 24×7. It must be served a la carte. The Diaspora consists of multiple constituencies, each with different interests and possible points of connection.

Traditionally the Diaspora has served its members a heavy dose of Latvian culture and politics. That does not work for many. New points of engagement are required – a segue for possible deeper levels of engagement for those who so wish.

Sports has been grossly underrated by the Diaspora establishment. But when BMXer Māris Štrombergs wins gold at the Olympics or takes the USA Open Nationals, when Šmediņš and Pļaviņš upset the USA in Olympic beach volleyball, when goaltender Kristers Gudļevskis almost singlehandedly upsets hockey super-power Canada at Sochi, when thousands of Latvians vote every day to put up and coming hockey player Zemgus Girgensons into the NHL All-Star game, when Latvians medal in the bobsleigh and the Dukurs brothers dominate in the skeleton, even those with tenuous connections take note. These modern day heroes should be featured front and centre in Latvian media abroad rather than the serpentine comings and goings of Latvian politics.

While it is regrettable that so many young people are abandoning Latvia, they will continue to leave until conditions back home improve. Frowns from Latvians who have lived abroad for decades and have no intention of returning will not change that. Latvian organizations need to reach out to the immigrants and provide information that they need, about schools, housing, social assistance, health insurance and by the way, here’s what’s happening in the community. This isn’t happening.

As people get older, they take interest in their lineage, who they are and where they came from. More than a few are digging into their family trees, signing up to genealogy web sites, hunting down lost relatives. But when they hit Latvia, they often come to a dead-end. Although many records are now online, try deciphering cursive Russian and Gothic German script once you start digging past the 1920s and the early days of independent Latvia. Even modern Latvian is a challenge for some. It is a hit and miss proposition finding help.

Latvia is being discovered. Pick up glossy coffee table books with destinations compiled by National Geographic or Lonely Planet. Latvia is there – Old Riga dating back centuries, a treasure trove of Art Deco buildings in Riga, miles of white sandy beaches along the Gulf of Riga, hundreds of manors, some in ruin and others restored to their former splendor, or the relatively unspoiled countryside. There are opportunities to promote travel to Latvia for Latvians and non-Latvians alike.

Latvia is on the bucket list for some. A once in a lifetime trip. There are those who wish to retrace the journey that their parents or grandparents took as they left Latvia and ending up in Displaced Person camps in Germany. Others want to visit the homeland of their forbearers, perhaps finding the remote rural homestead or the manor where their ancestors toiled. Not easy if you can connect only some of the dots. Where do you go for help?

More English and bilingual web sites are needed. There are a profusion of sites in Latvian but interesting sites serving up or aggregating content for those not fluent in Latvian are few and far between.

There are many opportunities. One needs to think out of the box. The focus must be on the consumer, what they want and not what we think they need.

The question for the Latvian community abroad is not just about right-sizing in face of dwindling demographics in order to continue serving the core. It is a question of survival and reaching out to the periphery and beyond to any with Latvians roots or interest in things Latvian. To reach out to the realm inhabited by the mighty pīrāgs.

These are questions that transcend time and space. There is little to distinguish a baby-boomer off-spring who has drifted away from the community and who struggles with all but the simplest conversations in Latvian, from someone whose grandparents came over more than a hundred years ago for whom only a few stories and Latvian traditions have survived, from children of recent immigrants, many of whom in the next ten or twenty years will succumb to assimilation much like their predecessors. Time and space may differ but their stories are or will be the same.

But throughout it all, the mighty pīrāgs is there. It will be baked and savoured reminding all of their Latvian connections. Let’s make sure that it’s not the only thing standing.