National Security & Defense

Baltic Journal, Part IV

Ojars Kalnin (Photo: Ernests Dinka/Saeimas Kanceleja/Flickr)
On parks, lovers, ‘spheres of influence,’ homecomings, and more

Editor’s Note: Jay Nordlinger spent the week of September 12 in the Baltic states — or rather, in two of them, Latvia and Estonia. A piece of his will soon appear in National Review magazine: about the Baltics, Russia, NATO, and America, particularly in light of our presidential campaign. This journal supplements the piece, and concerns matters weighty and light. For Parts I-III, go here, here, and here.

Riga, the Latvian capital, has splendid parks.  Walking through one, I see birch trees, and think, “Russia.”  I have associated birches with Russia – Pushkin and all that.

I also think:  “Don’t get too cocky, Jay.  A birch is one of the few trees you can identify.  You could identify more, if all trees had different-colored bark.”

‐In the park, there are young lovers, flirting and kissing – nothing grosser.  This scene is played out all over the world, immemorially.  A pleasant thing.

‐On a bench, two young lesbians – punk – fondle each other.  “This is not your grandmother’s Riga.”

‐As in other countries, pedestrians wait at stoplights, whether a car is coming or not.  It is all I can do to keep my American feet from moving.  In fact, it’s well-nigh impossible …

‐Back to my conversation with Janis Kazocins, the veteran Latvian security official (and graduate of Sandhurst, and former brigadier general in Her Majesty’s Armed Forces).  We speak of the phrase “sphere of influence.”  It appears in the Hitler-Stalin pact.  And why should anyone follow the language and thinking of Hitler and Stalin?

The thing about “spheres of influence”:  They deny, or curb, self-determination.

‐Kazocins says that Putin would like to create an air of inevitability.  He wants Baltic people to think that they belong with him, no matter how Western or independent they feel.  It goes like this:

It’s going to happen anyway.  Have a look at the map!  It’s obvious that you’re going to be part of at least the sphere of influence of Russia.  It can’t be any other way.  The United States?  Have you heard what Trump said?  Besides, they’re going to forget about you the moment something happens in the South China Sea.  You think the Germans are going to protect you?  Yeah, right.  The Germans always wanted to split eastern Europe between themselves and Russia.  They have done it century after century, and they will do it again.  It’s inevitable.  Wouldn’t you rather do it without bloodshed?  Come on, be reasonable.

As Kazocins talks, I can’t help thinking of Taiwan.  This is the sort of game that the PRC plays with Taiwan.

In that conflict, or potential conflict, the United States has long had a policy of “strategic ambiguity.”  Will we or won’t we?  If Taiwan is attacked, will the U.S. come to its aid or not?  With regard to the Baltics, the U.S. does not have a policy of strategic ambiguity.  It has NATO, and Article 5.

And yet … who knows what would happen, in the event of a Russian attack on the Baltics?  Better not to see the question tested.

And wasn’t it this way in the Cold War as well?  What if Soviet tanks had rolled into West Berlin?  What would NATO – what would the United States, to be blunter and more accurate – have done?  It is surely better that no one ever had to find out.

‐In its propaganda, the Kremlin says that the Baltic states are basketcases.  In truth, Russia itself is a basketcase.  The economy is spiraling downward, making it ever more attractive to the Kremlin to create trouble abroad – so as to stir up nationalist juices at home, distracting people from their everyday problems.

Dictatorial governments can be counted on to do this.

But, as Kazocins points out, the effects of adventures and muscle-flexing abroad wear off.  In Russia, Donbass is not sexy anymore.  Even the thrill of the Crimea annexation has ebbed.

So, do more?  Create more distraction?  Be ever more energetic in trying to bust up NATO?

Sooner or later, a government has to attend to its own people’s needs, I suppose.  Nationalism does not fill the belly.  Although it may get a person drunk, at least for a while.

‐Kazocins makes an arresting statement:  “The United States did not imagine that, when we joined the alliance in 2004, this would be a redline” – “this” being the Baltic states.  “But it is a redline.”

President Obama let one be crossed in Syria.  The Kremlin no doubt took note of that.  And it makes a difference, where NATO, including its eastern front, is concerned.

Obama said that he was “very proud” of drawing back from the redline in Syria.  He told The Atlantic’s Jeffrey Goldberg this.  He had not given in to the fetish of credibility.

Actually, credibility can be more than a fetish – it can be a sine qua non in world affairs.

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‐To everyone I meet in the Baltics, I ask this question, in so many words:  Why should Americans care about your security?  What is the connection between their security and yours?  Why should they do more than wish you all the best?

There are many answers, of course.  The U.S. has an interest in trade – which is connected to U.S. prosperity.  We have an interest in stability, democracy, and the rule of law.  In not living in a world where borders can be changed by force.  In not getting dragged into another European or world war.

Kazocins adds the following:  Think of the effect on U.S. foreign policy in general.  If NATO craters, or the Baltics go, think of the effect elsewhere.

Japan and South Korea will see what U.S. guarantees are worth.  And then, China won’t look so bad to them, will it?  The Japanese and the South Koreans will see what terms they can get …

And that would harm the United States – how?  Better not to find out (to repeat something I have already said, up above).

‐Near the opera house, I see a monument to Alfreds Kalnins, a Latvian composer who lived from 1879 to 1951.  It seems to me I have reviewed something by Kalnins.  I can’t remember what it was.  Conducted by Neeme Järvi, the Estonian maestro?

‐By the way, everything in Latvia is plural – names, I mean.  You got esses all over the place.  As in “Alfreds Kalnins.”  They want more than one.

‐Ojars Kalnins is no relation.  But he is an esteemed Latvian in his own right.  A member of the Saeima, the national parliament, he is the chairman of the Foreign Affairs Committee.

He grew up in Chicago.  So he is another one of those Latvians – those Balts – who “came back.”  But they had never been here before, because they were born and raised abroad, in their parents’ places of refuge.  The coming back is spiritual.

Ojars Kalnins lived in Chicago for more than 30 years, and he lived for 15 in Washington, D.C.  From 1993 to 2000, he was Latvia’s ambassador to the U.S.

‐An obvious question for me to ask is, “White Sox or Cubs?”  The answer is White Sox.  Although the Cubs are the ones who are having a great year.

‐“What was it like,” I ask, “to come to Latvia for the first time and hear the language of your home – your family – on the streets?”

“I came here as a tourist in 1978, for two weeks.  I was 28 years old.  The first thing that struck me was a neon sign.  I was coming from the airport on a bus.  And there was this neon sign in Latvian, advertising milk.  I had never seen such a thing in America.  In America, the Latvian community had handwritten signs.  Not fancy, lighted signs.  So when I saw that sign saying ‘Milk,’ I thought, ‘Wow, this country is for real.’

“I had started to think my parents had made up this country.  My classmates had never heard of it.  I didn’t read about it.  Teachers made no mention of it in school.  When I saw Riga, and heard the language, I thought, ‘Okay, this is real.  If it’s not my birthplace, it’s my homeland.’

“That’s what converted me.  I became active after that.  I realized that I had a tie to this country.”

Kalnins was angry, for this reason:  He had been to other cities in Europe – Stockholm, for example – and he now thought, “Why can’t we live like these people?  If we hadn’t been invaded by the Soviets, we’d be like Stockholm or Copenhagen today, and that’s the injustice of it.”

Sitting in his office, he tells me, “I’ve been here 16 years physically, but every day when I walk the streets of Riga, I look around and I’m grateful that this is no longer Soviet Latvia.”

We’ll hear more from Mr. Kalnins in Part V, tomorrow.  Thank you, ladies and gents.

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