After the USSR re-occupied Latvia from Nazi Germany in 1944, they constructed a narrative that framed the USSR as a welcome liberator. This was designed to legitimize the USSR’s rule of Latvia. Resistance to the Soviet narrative began with its inception. Latvians, having only recently lived through a period of proud national autonomy, thought of WWII as a brutal event within a 50-year-long brutal occupation that had destroyed their independent nation.
Having achieved independence again, Latvian historians, politicians, and others have worked to make sure that this Latvian narrative has become dominant. However, controversy has ensued as some Latvians and many in the EU see the developing narrative as too nationalist and not introspective enough. They see it as diminishing fascist atrocities in favor of highlighting communist atrocities and of all but erasing the Jewish experience in WWII Latvia in order to highlight Latvian suffering.
This narrative has influenced the development of Latvian national identity, how Latvians see their role in WWII and the events surrounding it, and, arguably, current Latvian policymaking. To understand this public discussion, this paper will look at three of its major actors: Latvia’s Commission of Historians, the Museum of the Occupation of Latvia, and The Soviet Story, an influential documentary directed by a Latvian politician that focuses in large part on WWII.
Changing Narratives: The Museum of the Occupation of Latvia
Paulis Lazda, a Latvian-born history professor at the University of Wisconsin – Eau Clair, helped spearhead the Museum of the Occupation of Latvia. He was inspired to do so as a way of countering increasing public celebrations WWII-era anti-communist groups that were also pro-Nazi. For example, on March 16th of every year since 1998, some Latvians march through Riga to honor fallen soldiers of the Latvian Legion, which fought against the Soviets as part of the Nazi SS during World War II.[1]
In an interview about the museum’s founding, he recalled that “there was a natural and strong push to make it a ‘Museum of Soviet Repression,’” but he demanded the integration of the Nazi occupation as well as he felt the public had to be educated on this point.[2]
The Museum of the Occupation of Latvia exposition starts from the first Soviet occupation from 1940-1941, moves to the Nazi occupation from 1941-45, and then covers the second Soviet occupation from 1945-1991.” The Museum shows both the Nazis and Soviets as enemies of Latvia who “dismantled the Latvian State, defiled the land, and within half a century, brought the nation to the brink of extinction,” and provokes a sense of patriotism by narrating “a story about […] defiance, resistance, and heroism.”[3] The collection displays 75,000 items and contains 2,500 testimonies in the form of audio-visual archives from survivors of the mass Soviet deportation, the Holocaust, Latvian soldiers during WWII, the national resistance movements, gulag survivors, Latvians in exile, and others.[4]
Despite the Museum’s efforts, it still received criticism about its handling of the holocaust, which took the lives of about 70,000 Jews in Latvia and saw many more flee into exile. According to James Mark, a professor of history at the University of Exeter, the holocaust “was presented in a separate set of panels and was clearly divided off from the main material about the German occupation,” effectively removing the holocaust narrative from the Latvian national memory.[5] Latvia is thus represented as an innocent bystander during the Holocaust despite ongoing debates about the Latvian legion and other collaboration. Additonally, according to Mark James, excluding the Jewish experience under the war has allowed the museum to reaffirm the claim that communist occupation repressed the Latvian state and harmed Latvians more than the Nazi occupation did.[6]
Interestingly, most donations that made the museum’s founding possible were donated from abroad in US, Canadian, or Australian dollars. Fewer donations were made in Euros, the currency used inside Latvia.[7] This highlights both Latvia’s poor economic position after independence but also a lack of introspection within the Latvian population about the Nazi occupation and the holocaust, and the extent to which Latvia depends on its diaspora for these kinds of discussions.
Starting the Conversation: The Commission of Latvian Historians
Latvia sought to join the European Union (EU) shortly after becoming independent. This meant joining a group of states that had long ago had serious discussions of the collaboration and antisemitic actions taken by their own citizens during WWII. This type of introspection is widely regarded as part of what being European today means. Europe’s “elites increasingly presented the Union as emerging out of the horrors of genocide and as an insurance against them occurring again.”[8] The EU helped pressure the Latvian government into establishing the Commission of Latvian Historians, to help encourage and moderate discussion on the unchartered territory of Latvia’s Holocaust memory.
On November 13th, 1998, Guntis Ulmanis, the then-president of Latvia established the commission to “contribute to the teaching of history in schools by preparing the basis for the creation of new teaching materials, as well as to raise public awareness of the events of the period and to explain Latvian history abroad.”[9] The commission publishes research volumes and organizes conferences to disseminate its findings, promoting scholarly debate within Latvia and internationally.
The commission has contributed to school curricula in Latvia and helped to establish memorials to the victims of the Holocaust and soviet repression. Its main achievement is the ongoing publication of a multi-volume collection of scholarly work. So far at 28 volumes, it will continue to add volumes indefinitely. Topics covered include WWII, the Soviet and Nazi occupations, the Holocaust, and antisemitism. In fact, the second volume was named “Problems of Holocaust Research in Latvia,” indicating the importance and urgency of the question.[10] Many volumes since have focused on Holocaust-related issues. However, James Mark argues that the commission is “shaped mostly by the demands of the western political community, rather than a domestic audience.”[11] This becomes evident in Antonjis Zunda’s letter to the President from May 8th, 2007, named “Key actions of the President in connection with the Commission of Historians” that states that “the president has clarified the issues of Latvian history during her many visits abroad, including meetings with various Jewish organizations and their leaders, for example with Simona Wiesenthal in 2001. As a result of this work, Latvia’s image abroad has improved and many obstacles on the road to NATO and the EU have been reduced.”[12]
Praise for the commission’s efforts abroad can be contrasted by the fact that there is no central online portal for the commission’s findings in either Latvian or English. The commission has not even published a complete list of its publications online. Thus, to learn from the commission’s findings, one has to track down a physical copy of the journals it publishes in limited supply. Many issues are sent to partners abroad. Thus, it appears that indeed the work of the Commission of Historians is not necessarily for domestic edification, but to promote Latvia’s self-image for the sake of European and western integration.
The Soviet Story: A Film to Maintain the Nationalist Perspective
Meanwhile, the long-standing popular narrative has been bolstered by popular media. The documentary film The Soviet Story, for instance, represents a more nationalistic perspective of Latvia’s historical relationship with the Soviets that works against the previously discussed initiatives. Edvins Snore, the film’s director, was elected twice to the Latvian Saeima, Latvia’s main legislative organ, after the film was released. He was also awarded the Order of Three Stars, Latvia’s highest civilian award, and the Order of the Cross of Mara, Estonia’s highest civilian award for non-citizens, specifically for his work on the film.
Much of the first half of the film is spent discussing the close relationship enjoyed between Nazi Germany and the Soviets right up until the Nazis invaded the USSR. The film discusses support for Nazi ideology voiced by high-ranking Soviet officials, military aid sent by the Soviets to the Nazis, and cooperation between the two on military strategy. The most striking parts of the film, however, are its continual graphic images of the piles of dead bodies and masses of suffering people under both the Nazis and the Soviets, shown so that they become indistinguishable.
Interviews with prominent historians and scholars, such as Norman Davies and Vladimir Bukovsky, alongside European Parliament members, offer insights into Soviet crimes, particularly their ideological motivations and execution. The film juxtaposes Soviet and Nazi ideologies, asserting ideological and operational parallels. The Holocaust is shown in contrast the Holodomor, the Great Purge, and Katyn Massacre.
The occupation of the Baltics is discussed as a small part of the larger discussion of ethnic cleansing. The conditions of those deported by the Soviets is shown to be equivalent to those experienced under the Nazis: rows of cattle cars packed with people, with many dead by the they arrived to their destination. The film uses this to assert that the Baltics were “brought to the brink of extinction” (the same language used by the Museum of the Soviet Occupation) and adds that the local population was replaced by Russian settlers. The film does mention that a million people living under the USSR did join the Nazis, but states that this was done towards the end of the war and only as a reaction against the atrocities of the communists.
Perhaps just as importantly, the film takes up to the present day (2008), showing that Russia and Russians remain exactly the same. The film highlights nationalist and anti-immigrant rhetoric from Russian parliamentarians and violence carried out by Russian nationalist groups to “purify the land” for Russians. We are left with the impression that Russia and Russians are permanently susceptible to totalitarian ideology and its related violence.
There are several things to unpack from this. First, the film leaves ordinary Latvians blameless – an innocent nation facing two unbelievably evil regimes. While the tragedy and suffering experienced in the Baltics is unquestionable, the story is more complex. Soviet deportations removed about 60,000 Latvians from their homeland leaving about 1.2 million Latvians on the ground. Within their country as a whole, Latvians were never a minority much less on the brink of extinction, even when Russian settlers were at their height in 1989.
By placing the Latvians on an equal ground with the Jews, whose population fell from about 200,000 before WWI to around 200 after WWII, The Soviet Story severely discourages the type of introspection encouraged, at least in theory, by the Museum of the Occupation and by the Commission of Historians. By equating the two populations, any questioning of the role of any ethnic Latvians in the history of the WWII or the Holocaust can be read as victim blaming.
Another important point is that The Soviet Story presents the entire Soviet occupation as 50 years of terror and death. There are no redeeming points of this period in any of the geographic regions considered. Thus, the period of history is to be read as “lost generations” to be set aside and moved on from rather than introspectively learned from.
Lastly, as Latvians are shown as the victims and as Russians are shown as the aggressors, the film defines Latvians in opposition to Russians. This standpoint has implications for internal policy in Latvia, as about 25% of Latvia’s population is Russian. Viewing these Russians as antithetical to Latvia makes their social integration more difficult. The standpoint also has implications for foreign policy in Latvia, as if Russia is only capable of violence, then diplomacy is futile and only military preparations can be taken ahead of the next confrontation.
The Soviet Story has been broadcast on Latvian television and is freely available on YouTube and multiple other online platforms such as Amazon for a small fee, meaning its reach is much greater than either the museum or the commission.
Conclusion: WWII in Latvian Modern Identity
The narrative surrounding WWII in Latvia reflects the country’s complex and evolving relationship with its past, shaped by shifting memorializations and the influence of various political, historical, and social actors. The Museum of the Occupation of Latvia, the Commission of Latvian Historians, and popular media such as The Soviet Story have each contributed distinct perspectives on how collective memory should be formed and applied to Latvian identity. External influences, mostly from the EU, have also affected this discussion.
These narratives shape not only Latvia’s view of its WWII past but also its approach to current issues of national identity, historical accountability, social integration, and foreign policy, particularly in relation to Russia. As Latvia continues to define its identity in the post-Soviet era, the challenge remains to balance the diverse and often conflicting perspectives of its history. True engagement with Latvia’s WWII legacy will require a continuous re-evaluation of these narratives.
In the end, Latvians will need to decide what is important to them and how they wish to remember the experiences of the generations of their ancestors that lived under Soviet occupation.
Different narratives concerning the atrocities committed during WWII and beyond clash along the border between the western Europe and the post-communist Europe. However, Latvia, as well as the other Baltic states, has constructed a new narrative that attempts to break down this border that highlights communist repression because of WWII. However, despite pressures from the EU and initiatives organized by the diaspora, Latvia continues to struggle to incorporate Nazi and Holocaust atrocities into this new national narrative.
Works Cited
“Latvia’s Difficult Legacy.” Accessed October 21, 2024. https://www.het.org.uk/news-and-events/blog/entry/latviau2019s-difficult-legacy.
Evans, Martin. “Memories, Monuments, Histories: The Re-Thinking of the Second World War since 1989.” National Identities 8, no. 4 (December 2006): 317–48. https://doi.org/10.1080/14608940601051943.
Mark, James. “Containing Fascism: Anti-Communism in the Age of Holocaust Memory.” In The Unfinished Revolution, 93–125. Making Sense of the Communist Past in Central-Eastern Europe. Yale University Press, 2010. https://www.jstor.org/stable/j.ctt5vksnn.9.
Mark, James. “Criminalizing Communism?: History at Terror Sites and in Statue Parks and National Museums.” In The Unfinished Revolution, 61–92. Making Sense of the Communist Past in Central-Eastern Europe. Yale University Press, 2010. https://www.jstor.org.ccl.idm.oclc.org/stable/j.ctt5vksnn.8.
Latvijas Okupācijas Muzejs. “About the Museum.” Accessed October 20, 2024. https://okupacijasmuzejs.lv/en.
“Commission of Historians.” Accessed October 20, 2024. https://www.president.lv/lv/vesturnieku-komisija.
Caune, A, and A Zunda. “Latvijas Vēsturnieku,” 2007. https://www.president.lv/lv/media/81/download.
The Soviet Story. Documentary, 2008.
Mälksoo, Maria. “A Baltic Struggle for a ‘European Memory’: The Militant Mnemopolitics of The Soviet Story.” Journal of Genocide Research 20, no. 4 (December 2018): 530–44. https://doi.org/10.1080/14623528.2018.1522828.
Footnotes
[1] “Latvia’s Difficult Legacy,” accessed October 21, 2024, https://www.het.org.uk/news-and-events/blog/entry/latviau2019s-difficult-legacy.
[2] James Mark, “Containing Fascism: Anti-Communism in the Age of Holocaust Memory,” in The Unfinished Revolution, Making Sense of the Communist Past in Central-Eastern Europe (Yale University Press, 2010), 93–125, https://www.jstor.org/stable/j.ctt5vksnn.9. p. 113
[3] “About the Museum,” Latvijas Okupācijas Muzejs, accessed October 20, 2024, https://okupacijasmuzejs.lv/en.
[4] Ibid
[5] James Mark, “Containing Fascism: Anti-Communism in the Age of Holocaust Memory,” in The Unfinished Revolution, Making Sense of the Communist Past in Central-Eastern Europe (Yale University Press, 2010), 93–125, https://www.jstor.org/stable/j.ctt5vksnn.9. p. 119
[6] Ibid, p. 119
[7] “Ar ziedojumiem PIEMINĒTI no 2017. gada 1. jūlija līdz 2017. gada 31. Decembrim” Latvijas Okupācijas muzejs Apkārtraksts, no. 47 (Summer 2018), https://okupacijasmuzejs.lv/storage/files/6/OM%2045.%20apkartraksts%20LV_ENG.pdf
[8] Ibid p. 95
[9] “Commission of Historians,” accessed October 20, 2024, https://www.president.lv/lv/vesturnieku-komisija.
[10] A. Caune and A. Zunda, “Latvijas Vēsturnieku,” 2007, https://www.president.lv/lv/media/81/download.
[11] James Mark, “Containing Fascism: Anti-Communism in the Age of Holocaust Memory,” in The Unfinished Revolution, Making Sense of the Communist Past in Central-Eastern Europe (Yale University Press, 2010), 93–125, https://www.jstor.org/stable/j.ctt5vksnn.9. p. 112
[12] [12] A. Caune and A. Zunda, “Latvijas Vēsturnieku,” 2007, https://www.president.lv/lv/media/81/download.
