Europe view
The Economist
March 11, 2010
For once, the anniversary of a wartime battle in Latvia should pass
off peacefully
THAT March follows February is not a state secret, but it sometimes
seems to come as a surprise to Latvian officials. Sometime in
February, they notice that March 16th is approaching and start
worrying, belatedly, about what outsiders will think.
That date is the anniversary of a battle in 1944, when two Latvian
units raised by the Nazis fought against the Soviets side by side,
under Latvian command, for the only time during the war. The
commemoration highlights a sharp historical controversy in the
ex-communist region. On one side are those who regard those Estonians,
Latvians and others who fought on the Nazi side and wilful
collaborators with the genocidal regime of Adolf Hitler. That they
bore the uniforms of the SS—the epitome of Nazi brutality—is a key
incriminating fact. Given the slaughter of Jews in the Baltic states
during the war, the only defensible position is to accept that the
Soviet forces were liberators. Any form of commemoration of their
opponents, such as the Latvian SS, is tantamount to nostalgia for the
Nazis.
In the middle are those that see mitigating circumstances. By this
late stage in the war the "SS" label was used for all conscripted
non-Germans, who were not allowed to join the Wehrmacht. The label
"volunteer" was a Nazi propaganda trick: the vast majority of soldiers
in these units were conscripts. Though many war criminals did join the
new units, fighting in the Third Reich's military forces was not in
itself a war crime. The Soviet claim that the Estonian and Latvian SS
were "traitors" is based on the idea that the 1940 annexation of the
Baltic states into the Soviet Union was legal. That is not an approach
that any civilised country accepted then, or believes today.
On the other side are those who think that Latvians and others who
fought against the Red Army were fighting in a just cause: to defend
their countries against a return to the horrors of Soviet rule they
had experienced in 1940-41. Their military prowess and bravery in a
doomed fight deserves recognition, particularly given the huge
casualties and persecution they experienced after the end of the war.
It is this last group that most wants to mark March 16th.
The anniversary is marked not by a march or parade. Instead, veterans
of the Latvian units, in civilian attire, lay flowers at the Freedom
Monument in Riga, in memory of their fallen comrades. The event
attracts unpleasant attention from neo-Nazi and skinhead groups on one
side, and self-proclaimed anti-fascists on the other.
Russia usually makes a big deal of this. Tarring Latvia (and Estonia)
as "fascist" is a big theme of Kremlin propaganda. Claiming that the
authorities honour "SS veterans" (or at least permit them to meet in
public) adds an extra twist. By skilful manoeuvring and news
management, Estonia has managed to defuse the issue. But in Latvia,
the authorities have found it a perennial and perplexing headache.
This year, the pot is, for once, off the boil. Regnum, a normally
polemical Russian news website, published a remarkably balanced
has banned the veterans' wreath-laying.
This reflects Latvia's changing politics. Riga is run by a coalition
led by the Harmony Centre party, which has good chances in the October
parliamentary elections. The party is mainly Russian-led, but its
pro-welfare policies attract Latvian voters too. A big row over March
16th would polarise opinion, driving Latvian voters to support the
mainstream parties that thrive on fears of Kremlin mischief-making.
The leaders of Harmony Centre don't want that. Neither do their
friends in Russia.
