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rfmcdonaldOver at Transitions Online, Katrina K.Z. Schwartz examines the hostile reaction to the recent gay pride parade in Rîga, capital of Latvia. Homophobia, it seems, is rife in Latvian society.
The normal debates on GLBT rights, embedded as they are in a much broader debate on gender norms and sexual freedoms, are only beginning to take off in Latvia. This cultural debate is complicated by the fact that Latvia, like Estonia, is riven by multiple divisive controversies regarding the future of the nation. The presence of almost two million Baltic Russians, mostly descended from Soviet-era immigrants, has complicated public life in the two northernmost Baltic States, as language laws and controversial naturalization laws have sought simultaneously to reaffirm the primacy of Baltic languages and cultures while including the large Russophone communities, somehow, within the nation. History, too, has proven divisive, as the debate over Baltic history in the 20th century--were the Baltic States brutally conquered by an expansionistic Soviet Union or did the Balts participate willingly in all-Soviet society--remains a very touchy subject.
The debate isn't so pressing in Estonia, geographically a homogeneous country where Russophones are concentrated in the suburbs of the capital of Tallinn and in the Soviet-industrialized northeast and there are a lot of incentives for Estonian Russophones to accept the primacy of local languages, cultures, and even historical interpretations. Latvia is much more diverse than its northern neighbour, with most of the large cities in Latvia having Russophone pluralities or even majorities and more Latvian residents speaking Russian than Latvian. Coupled with a perennial identity crisis without parallel in the other Baltic States--Lithuania seems to be moving towards central Europe while Estonia seems intermittantly interested in becoming a post-Communist Nordic country, while Latvia remains alone--Latvia's numerous overlapping cultural divisions remain active, contributing to a high level of turbulence in this country's governance. In Latvia more than in Estonia, more than in any of the other EU-8 states, culture is a terribly polarizing issue.
Into this turbulent mixture, Schwartz observes, comes aggressive American sectarian Protestantism, imported by Ēriks Jēkabsons who went on to found the conservative and pro-evangelical Latvia First Party, itself closely associated with Russophone evangelical Christian denominations in Latvia. As she notes, "[i]n this context, it was very interesting indeed to see the ethnically “integrated” scene on the sidelines of the gay pride march. Even the extremist nationalist organization Everything for Latvia remarked approvingly in an online photo essay: “This time Russians and Latvians are standing shoulder-to-shoulder … this time none of that matters because everyone is standing up against a common enemy.” This united front is, most likely, only a temporary marriage of convenience. But it should certainly be cause for alarm that ostensibly respectable government ministers are making common cause with extreme xenophobes in attacking a highly vulnerable minority group."
Schwartz is pessimistic about the medium-term political stability of Latvia, as "populist appeals to crude prejudices" seem to be the best way to activate some sort of emotional connection between political parties and electorates, as is the case in other democracies. She quotes from commentator Aivars Ozolins, who worries that "flirting by the parties of power with a portion of society’s prejudices and the readiness of the self-proclaimed 'correct' and 'normal' people to even physically persecute and attack different or 'abnormal' people, threatens to turn the next Saeima elections into a contest between neo-Nazis, racists, Christian fundamentalists, anti-Semites, xenophobes, homophobes and every other subspecies of misanthropes and rejecters of freedom. The bigger the thief, the louder he will appeal to 'family values.'" Ah, that good old time religion.
There is very little research on the life experiences of gays and lesbians in Latvia or on popular attitudes toward gays, but perhaps the most salient indicator is the degree to which Latvian gays and lesbians remain “in the closet.” According to a recent survey of EU accession countries by the European Region of the International Lesbian and Gay Association (ILGA-Europe), over 70 percent of Latvian respondents attempt to conceal their sexual orientation from people other than family and friends (compared to a low of 20 percent in the Czech Republic). And with good reason: gays and lesbians live in a climate of fear as, despite their attempts at invisibility, the incidence of verbal and physical abuse (by police and family members included) remains high, and face employment and housing discrimination. Gay (male) sex was decriminalized in 1993, but Latvia is the only member-state that has not yet implemented the EU employment equality directive banning discrimination on the basis of sexual orientation. In recent Latvian opinion surveys, only 16 percent of respondents stated that they personally knew a homosexual person, 38 percent identified homosexuals as undesirable neighbors, and 51 percent strongly disagreed with the statement that “homosexuality is a normal phenomenon in any society.”
The normal debates on GLBT rights, embedded as they are in a much broader debate on gender norms and sexual freedoms, are only beginning to take off in Latvia. This cultural debate is complicated by the fact that Latvia, like Estonia, is riven by multiple divisive controversies regarding the future of the nation. The presence of almost two million Baltic Russians, mostly descended from Soviet-era immigrants, has complicated public life in the two northernmost Baltic States, as language laws and controversial naturalization laws have sought simultaneously to reaffirm the primacy of Baltic languages and cultures while including the large Russophone communities, somehow, within the nation. History, too, has proven divisive, as the debate over Baltic history in the 20th century--were the Baltic States brutally conquered by an expansionistic Soviet Union or did the Balts participate willingly in all-Soviet society--remains a very touchy subject.
The debate isn't so pressing in Estonia, geographically a homogeneous country where Russophones are concentrated in the suburbs of the capital of Tallinn and in the Soviet-industrialized northeast and there are a lot of incentives for Estonian Russophones to accept the primacy of local languages, cultures, and even historical interpretations. Latvia is much more diverse than its northern neighbour, with most of the large cities in Latvia having Russophone pluralities or even majorities and more Latvian residents speaking Russian than Latvian. Coupled with a perennial identity crisis without parallel in the other Baltic States--Lithuania seems to be moving towards central Europe while Estonia seems intermittantly interested in becoming a post-Communist Nordic country, while Latvia remains alone--Latvia's numerous overlapping cultural divisions remain active, contributing to a high level of turbulence in this country's governance. In Latvia more than in Estonia, more than in any of the other EU-8 states, culture is a terribly polarizing issue.
Throughout the 15 years of post-communist transition, battles over diversity and tolerance have been waged – at both the domestic and international levels – almost exclusively on inter-ethnic grounds: first over citizenship, naturalization, and official language policies, and more recently over the transition to Latvian-language teaching in Russophone public high schools. The rage of nationalist extremists and the anomie of the disaffected masses have largely been channeled into hatred of the ethnic other, thanks in no small part to the divisive rhetoric of politicians. Latvia’s political parties are rigidly polarized on ethnic lines, heavily controlled by powerful economic interests, weakly rooted in society, and deeply mistrusted by most citizens. Seeking to boost their weak ratings, office-seekers often resort to emotionally based populist appeals. For most parties with an ethnic-Latvian base, these emotional appeals have often focused on anti-Russian nationalism. But Latvia’s First explicitly endorsed multiculturalism and ethnic integration during the 2002 campaign, seeking to win support among Russian-speaking voters. Its aggressively anti-gay rhetoric suggests that the party views homophobia as a useful replacement for anti-Russian nationalism.
Into this turbulent mixture, Schwartz observes, comes aggressive American sectarian Protestantism, imported by Ēriks Jēkabsons who went on to found the conservative and pro-evangelical Latvia First Party, itself closely associated with Russophone evangelical Christian denominations in Latvia. As she notes, "[i]n this context, it was very interesting indeed to see the ethnically “integrated” scene on the sidelines of the gay pride march. Even the extremist nationalist organization Everything for Latvia remarked approvingly in an online photo essay: “This time Russians and Latvians are standing shoulder-to-shoulder … this time none of that matters because everyone is standing up against a common enemy.” This united front is, most likely, only a temporary marriage of convenience. But it should certainly be cause for alarm that ostensibly respectable government ministers are making common cause with extreme xenophobes in attacking a highly vulnerable minority group."
Schwartz is pessimistic about the medium-term political stability of Latvia, as "populist appeals to crude prejudices" seem to be the best way to activate some sort of emotional connection between political parties and electorates, as is the case in other democracies. She quotes from commentator Aivars Ozolins, who worries that "flirting by the parties of power with a portion of society’s prejudices and the readiness of the self-proclaimed 'correct' and 'normal' people to even physically persecute and attack different or 'abnormal' people, threatens to turn the next Saeima elections into a contest between neo-Nazis, racists, Christian fundamentalists, anti-Semites, xenophobes, homophobes and every other subspecies of misanthropes and rejecters of freedom. The bigger the thief, the louder he will appeal to 'family values.'" Ah, that good old time religion.
