Inside a new Cold War brewing in an Eastern European capital

People walking by in the old town of Riga. Photo: Aleksandrs Muiznieks / Shutterstock

Twice while off his shift in a hospital, Vladislavs was reprimanded by other doctors for speaking Russian with another co-worker. He was told that speaking Russian was not appropriate.

“ It’s not a joke. It’s not a joke. That’s why I’m not feeling accepted so much in Latvia,” said Vladislavs, who is a doctor in training in Riga. He did not want his surname revealed out of fear that he would lose access to jobs and opportunities in the medical field if his identity were revealed.

Interviews with Vladislavs and several other Riga residents revealed that tensions have escalated between the Russian-speaking and non-Russian-speaking populations in Latvia.

According to a 2023 survey by the Friedrich Ebert Stiftung foundation, 37 percent of Russian speakers in Latvia said that the attitude of Latvian speakers towards them had significantly worsened since the war in Ukraine. This was an increase from 17 percent in 2022.

In Latvia, around a third of residents speak Russian as their native language, and in the capital, Riga, about half of the population is Russian speaking.

The prevalence of Russian speakers reminds many Latvians of the period under Soviet occupation, in which a period of intense Russification took place that resulted in the suppression of the Latvian language and identity by the authorities.

“It’s too fresh. It’s too fresh in our history,” said Irma Kalnina, a Latvian member of parliament, about the period of Soviet occupation.

Since Russia invaded Ukraine in 2022, Kalnina has believed that the threat of Moscow trying to occupy Latvia again has become much more real. 

The Latvian parliament has also imposed more severe measures to curb the use of the Russian language within Latvia since the start of Russia’s war with Ukraine. For example, in 2022,  they closed all Russian schools and around the same time banned Russian news channels.

“It’s like a cold civil war,” said Vladislavs.

Vladislavs said the Latvian government funds the hospital where he works and requires everyone to speak Latvian during work. However, the fact that he was reprimanded during a private conversation was a step too far for him.

Pavel, another aspiring doctor in Riga who has both Latvian and Russian roots, says that although some language laws were implemented before the Ukraine war, the crackdown on language has gotten “a lot worse” since the start of the Russian invasion.

“For the longest time, the menus had like Latvian, Russian and English, and after the war started, the Russian language started being phased out and removed from menus,” said Pavel.

Pavel also asked that his last name not be used given the rising tensions between the two groups. He fears that it would prevent him from finding work in Latvian hospitals.

However, for Steven Dzenis, 25, the crackdown on the Russian language started well before 2022.

Dzenis said his ancestors originally came to Latvia from Poland. However, his family is Russian speaking, which highlights the complex relationship between language and identity in Latvia. 

The State Language Center, also known colloquially as the “language police”, seeks to curb the use of the Russian language by enforcing Latvia’s Official Language Law. Dzenis said that some of his acquaintances have been stopped and forced to take a Latvian language test when speaking Russian to another customer in a shop.

Although he has not been stopped by the “language police”, Dzenis explained that he frequently worries about what language he speaks to others out of fear of being stopped by the “language police”.

“It’s a major inconvenience, and it’s extra stress for me. Why do I need this?” Dzenis said. 

Despite disagreeing with the policy and extra resources the government has spent to curb the use of the Russian language, Steven said that he has not personally felt any animosity directed at him from non-Russian-speaking Latvians.

“The problem is the government and politics. Of course, we have good Russian speakers and good Latvian speakers, and we have bad Russian speakers and bad Latvian speakers, but I personally have not encountered such a situation where another person said something mean to me for speaking Russian and neither have my friends,” said Dzenis.

Despite disagreeing with these language laws, Dzenis said Latvia is the only place he wants to live, and it is the only place that feels like home to him.

“In Latvia, I feel really good. The last five years I was abroad and didn’t enjoy it, but six months ago, I came back to Latvia and have been really enjoying it. I love this country because it’s my birth country. I have friends, family, and I feel really comfortable,” said Dzenis.

Dzenis even started paying for extra language classes to improve his Latvian so that he can feel more comfortable speaking the language with native speakers.

He said he wishes that the Russian-language school that he attended offered better Latvian-language lessons. He supported recent measures to fully integrate Latvian-speaking kids with Russian-speaking kids in schools.

However, he also thinks Latvians would benefit from learning Russian as well.

“I think it would be really nice if there were half Russian-speaking, half Latvian-speaking students in a school, so that the Latvian speakers speak Russian better and the Russian speakers will speak Latvian better,” Dzenis said. “For me, I want to speak Russian with Russians, Latvian with Latvians, and English with English speakers.”

On the other hand, Vlada, 21, said she feels a strong connection to Latvia, but at the same time retains her connection with Russia, where her ancestors are from. She did not want her surname to be made public out of fears that it would negatively affect her ability to find a job or apply for master’s programmes in Latvia

“If there is a war between Russia and Latvia, I don’t know for which side I will feel empathy,” Vlada said. “I think it would be a great tragedy for all Russian-speaking people in Latvia.”

Vlada, who is an undergraduate student, said that she has plans to move abroad and ultimately leave Latvia, primarily because of the worsening economic conditions in the country.

“Many young people choose to move abroad to get a higher quality education or a larger salary. We have small salaries, but all products are becoming more and more expensive without salaries increasing,” said Vlada.

Like Dzenis, Vlada believes that most of the tensions between the Russian-speaking and Latvian-speaking populations are due to the government trying to foment divisions between the two groups in order to hide their inability to address the country’s economic situation.

“I think the government doesn’t care about either group of people, but I think they try to divide our society into two sides to make Russians hate Latvians, and Latvians hate Russians. Like Caesar said, when you divide society, it is easier to manipulate the people,” Vlada said.

Pavel referenced the same phrase as Vlada when describing the Latvian government’s strategy.

“It’s like a basic divide and conquer strategy, so you keep the population culturally divided and then people will vote for those who promise to get rid of Russians, and then you can do whatever you want. From my point of view, that’s exactly what has been happening since independence in 1991.”

Pavel said that the government’s divisive tone has not yet led him to experience any direct discrimination for being a member of the Russian-speaking population. However, like Vladislavs, he feels that tensions are growing between the two groups.

“You can feel the smell of racism in the air,” Pavel said. 

However, like Vlada, Pavel still cited economic concerns as the primary reason he is thinking about emigrating from Latvia.

“Basically, this country is kind of a sh**hole,” said Pavel, referring to Latvia’s economy.

Outside the centre of Riga, in a northwest suburb called Bolderaja, the economic struggles facing many Riga residents were more apparent.

The neighbourhood was filled with rundown factories, neglected Soviet-era apartment blocks, and shops that looked like they had not changed since the Soviet Union. 

A young couple living in Bolderaja, Dominik, 25, and Olga, 31, described how the poverty in the neighbourhood had bled into societal life there as well.

“Most of the people here are in a lower social strata,” said Olga.

Dominik added that there was not much work in Bolderaja and people had to travel long distances to find it.

“We feel forgotten,” said Dominik, “There are a lot of people who feel frustrated and turn to drinking and seek conflict with others.”

In addition to being one of the poorest parts of Riga, Bolderaja is also predominantly Russian.

Prior to living in Bolderaja, Dominik lived in Ogre, a city east of Riga, where he said that the quality of life was much better. He believes that a key factor in the difference was the demographics, with Ogre being predominantly Latvian and Bolderaja predominantly Russian.

“Life was better in Ogre, because the city is very well maintained. Because after all, a majority of Latvians live there, and they’re kind of investing more money there. And in areas like Bolderaja, they don’t invest much,” said Dominik.

Olga believes that the anti-Russian sentiment in Latvia had been present for a long time, but had now taken on a slightly different appearance.

“To be honest, I don’t see much difference. It used to be more veiled. Now it’s more radical, it just boldly manifests itself,” said Olga.

In addition to closing Russian-speaking schools and news channels, the anti-Russian sentiment had also led some of the population, including Vladislavs, to believe that they do not belong or are not wanted in the country.

“Sometimes when you go to a company and they don’t actually really accept you, and if they behave differently towards you, of course you, at some point, might at least consider going to another group of people. I think the same applies also to countries. If you just don’t feel accepted very much, then of course you are going to try to find another,” said Vladislavs.

Athan Yanos is a graduate journalism student at Northwestern University in the Politics, Policy and Foreign Affairs specialization. He is a New York native. Prior to Medill, he graduated with an M.A. in Philosophy and Politics from the University of Edinburgh. He also hosts his own podcast dedicated to philosophy and international politics.

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Baltic states, Baltics, Latvia, Russian invasion of Ukraine, Russian minority, Society