The results of a recent survey conducted by the Norstat center on behalf of the Latvian radio news portal and Latvian television LSM.lv (Latvijas sabiedriskais medijs — Latvian Public Media) were released with a provocative headline, “Latvians do not want to retain Ukrainian refugees for the sake of the labour market.” However, upon closer inspection, the results are not so straightforward. In response to the question of whether the state should attempt to retain Ukrainian refugees after the war to alleviate Latvian demographic and workforce problems, 6% of respondents answered positively, and 14% agreed but with certain conditions. On the other hand, 8% and 31%, respectively, stated, “I don’t know” and “Neutral”.
Only 17% of respondents, mostly women, were categorically opposed. This can be explained by their more serious competition for employment due to the fact that refugee status is more frequently granted to Ukrainian women rather than men.
According to the latest data, as of December 2023, over 46,000 Ukrainian residents have applied for temporary protection status in Latvia. This also contributes to Ukrainians establishing themselves as the second-largest national minority in the country.
In a broader context, the sentiments of Latvians regarding the war in Ukraine and its refugees have been previously examined. Notably, a survey conducted last summer illuminated a notable decline in the level of support for Ukraine among the locals, particularly evident in mixed families.
Surveys of this nature shed light on several aspects. Firstly, it suggests that government-controlled media plays a role in shaping public perception of the war and whether Latvian citizens fully grasp the gravity of the potential threat in their future. Secondly, there is a considerable likelihood that certain refugees from Ukraine might opt not to return home, integrating themselves into the local population. The lingering question pertains to the readiness of Latvia’s residents to embrace this, particularly after the initial euphoria of offering assistance subsidies.
In recent weeks, there has been frequent discourse on the subject of refugees returning to Ukraine. Concurrently, discussions are underway regarding strategies to incentivize this return. According to Politico, Ukraine is in talks with EU officials, exploring mechanisms to exert pressure on refugees and identify means to encourage and facilitate the repatriation of Ukrainians. If not to serve the mobilisation purposes, then at least to bolster the fragile state of Ukraine’s economy.
Over the course of almost two years of the Ukraine war, sentiments in Latvia have undergone a gradual transformation. Initially marked by profound affection for Ukraine and strong negative rhetoric from various political figures, attitudes have now shifted to a relatively neutral stance. And while the war is still being discussed, it’s no longer the main news, while Ukrainians in Latvia, who were a major concern one and a half years ago, seem to have been completely forgotten. I recall the year 2022 when stories related to refugees were a daily occurrence, and everyone had an “important” opinion to share. While some residents made every effort to assist when they encountered newly arrived disoriented individuals, others seemed to anticipate any misbehaviour from Ukrainians and were quick to criticise.
In the initial months of the invasion, as the first refugees started arriving in large numbers, not all locals wanted to differentiate who’s who, and therefore, Ukrainians could often face disfavour from the locals. For some Latvians, those refugees were just the same as the Russian-speaking residents of Latvia. They would casually refer to them as ‘krievi’ (a local term for ‘Russian’ in Latvian) without delving into their nationality and background. For some of the local Russians, Ukrainians became targets for occasional street bullying, lecturing, or arguments about “who is right and who is wrong”. Now, these prejudices have gradually faded away, first from people’s minds and then from the streets. The newcomers are now welcomed with acceptance and regarded as integral members of the community.
Eventually, Ukrainians themselves have gradually started making decisions about the place they want to live in the future. Some returned home, some continued their journey elsewhere in transit, while others simply adapted and now lead ordinary lives, much like the average Latvian. Cars with Ukrainian license plates have become a common sight on city streets, along with Ukrainian flags. However, the same cannot be said for the Ukrainian language. In 2022, you would hear it everywhere, but now it has quieted down so much that it’s almost imperceptible. Unfortunately, some refugees have come to realise that Latvia is quite a Russian-speaking country. Not long ago, in some cities, especially in Riga, one could comfortably live without knowing Latvian.
Certainly, regarding language, matters have become a bit more intricate, especially following the enactment of several laws that legally prioritise the use of Latvian in various institutions and establishments. The Language Commission has become proactive in checking language proficiency in various workplaces, with some cases even making headlines. For instance, in a Riga pizza place recently, the owner hired a Ukrainian without knowledge of the Latvian language, simply trying to show compassion. She worked in the kitchen but had to answer phone calls from time to time. Some customers expressed dissatisfaction and lodged complaints with the Language Commission. Commission representatives issued a warning during their first visit. A week later, another complaint was filed, leading to a subsequent visit and, this time, the owner facing an open case of an administrative offence.
Pressure on Russian citizens also increased. The Cabinet of Ministers’ decision on August 16, 2022, had a significant impact, stating that temporary residence permits in Latvia would only be extended to Russian citizens in exceptional cases, and they could obtain a permanent residence permit only by passing a state language exam. A year ago, this caused significant surprise and some dissonance among a considerable part of Latvia’s population: why should Russians be deprived of a residence permit without knowledge of the language while Ukrainians who don’t speak Latvian are employed? Now, even this has been balanced.
However, this doesn’t imply a reduction in the use of the Russian language — it’s just that its use in certain places is now legally prohibited, even though this law is occasionally breached. Moreover, some Latvians of the older generation tend to switch to Russian when they notice that the other person doesn’t understand them.
Overall, the lives of Ukrainian refugees in Latvia varied depending on the city, region, surroundings, and attitudes. For some, luck brought them to Ventspils, a nice, quiet town where adaptation is relatively straightforward. Others ended up in the town of Daugavpils, on the border with Russia, where locals are 70–80% Russian-speaking and, for the most part, aren’t particularly welcoming to Ukrainians.
Unfortunately, the children who are forced to learn an unfamiliar language are facing the biggest challenge. In an interview with LR-4 (Latvian Radio 4) in the summer of 2023, the director of the Riga Ukrainian School (who is hoping to open an international Ukrainian school in Latvia similar to the one in Lithuania) mentioned that some children are studying in Latvian schools, others continue with their Ukrainian curriculum remotely, but it is entirely unclear many children are not studying at all. However, efforts are gradually being made to address this issue by opening language courses, forming Ukrainian classes, and assigning Ukrainian teachers to them.
It is comforting to know that support will be provided during challenging times. Latvia has announced its intention to welcome around 12,000 refugees from Ukraine by 2024. We can only hope that one day, Ukrainians will also be able to travel to Latvia for peaceful reasons rather than to escape from war.
