Every leader wants to leave his or her mark on posterity, though in the Baltics an unusually high rate of political turnover has complicated ambitions. This hasn't stopped several ministers in Latvia's current four-party coalition from dreaming up pet projects and clinging to them with such feral tenacity that the projects actually betray the public trust and become a matter of personal obsession.
The most recent case involving the equestrian honor guard demonstrates how out of touch several ministers have become. Defense Minister Vinets Veldre has suggested that the government should resurrect the Latvian Home Guard. The guard, replete with horses, would hark back to the interwar independence years and, in Veldre's vision, boost the state's image, particularly in the eyes of its own citizens. The 20 horses will cost a total 50,000 lats (71,500 euros), plus 40,000 lats for trucks that will ferry the beasts across the country, and 30,000 for uniforms and other heraldry. Annual upkeep will run about 70,000 lats. Crucially, the minister is not asking for additional funds; finance will come from the existing defense budget (a paltry sum).
Veldre, who took over the post in December, gave a revealing interview with a local paper last month. In it, he opined that the government needed to strengthen people's feelings of patriotism, especially among the younger generation. "It is great that in our society there are still people who remember the times…between the world wars, the relations between a person and the country. But I am more interested in the feelings of people at present, especially the young people," he said. Resurrecting some of Latvia's military traditions, like the honor guard, could help accomplish this much-needed injection of effusive feelings for the motherland, Veldre argues.
But it sounds half-baked. How can a group of stately steeds inspire a populace that is languishing from economic stagnation and struggling to keep up with runaway food prices? Does not the idea of spending 6,000 lats on a horse strike the ruling elite as bad taste? Apparently not. Speaking June 10, Prime Minister Ivars Godmanis expressed support for the project. "I cannot agree that it is a waste of money," he told a television program.
This is more than just simple populism, defined as ineffective, ill-considered economic and social policies aimed at winning over the electorate. It smacks of shameless vanity. Coming during a brewing economic crisis 's triggered in part, by the way, by irresponsible fiscal policies and ministerial waste 's such projects are akin to the fabled feast in time of famine. The Three Brothers mega-project 's a library, concert hall and contemporary art museum 's that will cost taxpayers approximately 250 million lats, is another idea from the Latvian fantasyland where money grows on trees. So obsessed with it is Culture Minister Helena Demakova that she publicly and tactlessly blasted the president when he expressed doubt about the project's timing. The president, she said, shot himself in the foot.
Walk into any Latvian hospital, and one will see an infrastructure project that urgently needs state support. It would be a small wonder if ministers realized that a spic-and-span hospital could evoke as much respect for one's country as a dozen galloping horses leaving behind a trail of manure. But that is too logical for Latvian leadership. There's no glory to be had in healthcare. No, it is libraries, airports and honor guards that secure one's place in history. Let the young doctors and medical students emigrate to Ireland; Latvia doesn't need them. It needs horses.