Conductors, dancers, croissants, little green men, 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 by him appears in the current issue of 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. Here are links to previous parts: I, II, III, IV, and V.
Outside the concert hall, I see a poster advertising an appearance by Mariss Jansons. He is one of the leading conductors in the world, and a Latvian. He was born here in Riga, in 1943. His mother was in hiding. She was Jewish. Her father and brother had already been killed by the Gestapo.
His father was another conductor, Arvids Jansons, who apprenticed with Mravinsky in Leningrad. His son would too.
I have reviewed Mariss Jansons many, many times, and interviewed him once, in Salzburg. A noble soul.
So, this concert in Riga? He is conducting the Symphonie fantastique of Berlioz, as he so often does. It is one of his go-to pieces. Then a Latvian composer and pianist, Raimonds Pauls, will play Rhapsody in Blue. (How Gershwin travels!) Then he will play a piece of his own.
Would like to attend.
‐A protégé of Jansons’s, Andris Nelsons, is the music director of the Boston Symphony Orchestra. (I interviewed him, too, in Salzburg.) His wife is the soprano Kristine Opolais. They, too, are Latvian.
Latvians, Latvians, everywhere you look. Particularly in Riga, strangely enough.
‐Pauls Raudseps tells me that a particular café has the best almond croissant in Riga. I will have to order one, and do.
Raudseps is one of the leading journalists in the country. He grew up in America, as Ojars Kalnins, whom we have already met, did. Raudseps is from the Boston area: West Newton. His family was immersed in the Latvian community.
“You could do something Latvian literally every day of the week,” he says. There might be Scouts on Monday, choir on Tuesday, folk dancing on Wednesday … And there was Saturday school. Latvian school.
Raudseps went to Harvard, where he majored in Russian and Soviet Studies. Did he have Dick Pipes? Richard Pipes, the great historian of Russia? Sure. But Pipes was active in Washington at the time (where he was helping Reagan win the Cold War). Raudseps also had Adam Ulam.
They were a formidable duo on a faculty, Pipes and Ulam. Both of them Polish Jews, by the way. Raudseps tells me that Ulam had a fantastic memory. Apparently, he remembered everything he read.
How enviable.
After Harvard, Raudseps went to Western Michigan University, in Kalamazoo. Now, I realize that Harvard is a natural stepping-stone for WMU. But what was Raudseps’s particular motivation? Well, there was a Latvian Studies program.
Kalamazoo — one of my hometowns, I should note — is the Latvian capital of America. There is a summer school there, and other summer activities. To a Latvian, Kazoo (as we abbreviate it) is one of the most famous cities in America.
Which pleases me.
Toward the end of Soviet days, Raudseps returned to Latvia — Latvia itself, this country on the Baltic Sea. I should put “returned” in quotation marks. This was a spiritual, emotional return.
He returned for three reasons, basically. “We had been raised with the idea that, if Latvia ever had a chance at independence, we should do something about that.” Most of the Latvians in America were political refugees. They had not gone there by choice (though they were grateful, surely).
Also, “this was an exciting time,” meaning, the time of budding independence.
Then, “the fact that the language I had spoken at home was spoken on the streets of this country — well, that was a powerful thing.”
Yes.
In 1990, Raudseps joined the Popular Front, which was striving for independence. He helped to form a press center. The press is key in a democracy, nascent or otherwise.
He was one of the founders of Diena, a daily newspaper. (“Diena” means “day.”) There were no good newspapers before then, he explains. The Soviet model still governed. There was no distinction between news and opinion, for example.
Ah, the distinction between news and opinion: That is a precious one, and not all that common, I find.
Later, he founded a weekly news magazine, Ir. (This means “It Is,” or “It Exists.”)
#share#
‐The Latvian language has grown tremendously in Latvia, Raudseps says. “When I first came here, you could go into a store, and you could not speak Latvian.” That doesn’t happen anymore. Even if it is a Russian-owned store, you could do business in Latvian.
“When my son was born, all the nurses were ethnic Russians. And they all spoke Latvian. That would not have been the case when I first got here.”
And “it all happened remarkably fast.”
‐Raudseps talks about Baltic Russians who go to Russia. “From what I hear, the Russian in Russia is different from the Russophones’ here.” They have started to use different words, the Baltic Russians. “If you want someone to write ads for the Russian market, you can’t use people from the Baltic states, because the vocabularies have changed significantly.”
‐I have a dumb question, but I’m going to ask it anyway. “Can you tell the difference between Latvians and ethnic Russians, physically?” No, says Raudseps. “So,” I continue, “you can tell the difference only when they open their mouths, right?” Not even then, says Raudseps. Many ethnic Russians speak accentless Latvian.
And that will get ever truer, presumably, as time goes on.
‐Raudseps tells me a story about someone he knows — an ethnic Russian here in Latvia. The fellow had just been to Moscow. He and Raudseps were talking (in Russian).
“You know, Pauls,” said the man, “they’re not like you and me over there.” How so? Well, for example, “when an older person gets on a bus, no one gets up to offer him his seat.”
‐You know who was born here in Riga, or outside Riga? Baryshnikov, the great Russian dancer. He comes here regularly. He owns property here. And he performs here. Evidently, he will not perform in Russia. Russians come here to Riga, to see him.
His mother is buried here. He visits her grave.
‐I ask Pauls Raudseps, “Does Putin have designs on the Baltics?” He laughs a little incredulously. “Sure!” he says. “He has designs on the United States!” True, true.
‐A big question, says Raudseps, is, What kinds of tools will they use? What tools does the Kremlin prefer, to gain influence or control?
Military action is a major headache. It carries high risk. Better to buy influence or control, through business deals or local politicians.
You know, I heard the exact same thing from Taiwanese, about the PRC, and its approach to that island.
It is more convenient for the Kremlin to spread money around, says Raudseps, than to send little green men over the border.
Little green men? This is the term applied to those Russian special forces, who wear masks and green uniforms, without any markings on them. They operate in eastern Ukraine.
‐About eastern Ukraine: It ought to be the easiest place of all for the Russians to absorb, says Raudseps. Yet they are having trouble. It is not a cakewalk for them. Plus, the people can be tiresome: They keep asking for more money, from Moscow.
Ah, the burdens of empire. The thrill of conquest can wear off so quickly …
‐We talk about NATO. Will they or won’t they? Will they come to the Baltics’ aid, as the treaty requires, or not? No one wants to see this question tested (obviously). Raudseps believes that NATO would indeed fulfill its obligation.
“Am I right to perceive,” I ask, “that everything hinges on the United States?” Yes, says Raudseps, for sure. And we Americans are a wild card at the moment, I believe.
‐We are talking about the American interest. An unstable, conflict-ridden Europe is a threat to the United States, says Raudseps. And an unstable, conflict-ridden Europe is Russia’s goal. (The goal of Russia under the KGB man, Putin.) The Baltic states are the hinge on which all this turns.
Will the Kremlin accept the Baltics as independent, sovereign countries? If so, Russia can be part of the international system. If not, it can’t.
By protecting the Baltic states, you are saying to Russia, “This is something you have to accept.” It is in everyone’s interest that Russia be inside the international system, not outside it. No one wants to see Russia as a rogue state — a very large, powerful, nuclear-tipped rogue state. No one wants to see borders changed by force.
The more willing the Russians are to accept the Baltic countries as sovereign states, the less willing they will be to play the spoiler in places such as Syria — or the American election.
If they can accept the Baltic states, they are a normal member of the international community. If they cannot, we are back to 1939, and that will catch up to every country in Europe, sooner or later. If the Kremlin swallows the Baltics, it will not be satisfied and eat no more. L’appétit vient en mangeant. (Appetite comes of eating.)
What person who is acquainted with history doesn’t know that?
‐Raudseps makes a moving statement about the importance of principle in international affairs. At least it is moving to me.
The United States never recognized the occupation and annexation of the Baltic states. Never. All through the five decades or so, we held the line. And this was important, as the Baltic independence movements began. Balts could say, “We have an international status that is different from that of Belarus or Kyrgyzstan or other ‘Soviet republics.’ Our natural and rightful place is in the EU and NATO.”
Putin’s Russia has annexed Crimea. Democracies do not recognize this. North Korea, Syria, Cuba, and a few other such states do — but not civilized ones. This may seem absurd. Russia is not going to pull out of Crimea tomorrow, next week, or next year.
But “we have to hold the line,” says Raudseps. “This is the way we make the world better. The rule of law is what allows us to be free.”
‐He has said that the almond croissants at this café are the best in Riga. I would hazard — the best in the world? Try one, when you’re at KD Konditoreja.
Thank you, dear readers, and see you soon for the next installment.