Saeima of the Republic of Latvia

Interviewer.

Romas, how did you fid out about the Putsch?

R. Ražuks.

From a phone call – phone call to my home from the coordination centre of the Latvian Popular Front, and then by switching on the TV where the Soviet ballet… the Soviet ballet performance alternated with scenes of gloomy men sitting at a long table somewhere in Moscow on some kind of stage. Then we went to the Latvian Popular Front headquarters in order to evacuate the building because it was clear what could be expected. And it was. At about 4 p.m. two remaining men – Mārcis Pļavnieks and Artis Ērglis [members of the Latvian Popular Front] – were hit by the commandoes on their heads; they were beaten. And other events followed – Soviet commandoes captured the headquarters of the Latvian Popular Front and the Latvian National Independence Movement, as well as the television building and other strategic buildings.

There was a feeling of helplessness – what to do and so on – which has been widely described. The only aspect that I wanted to highlight in this regard is the fact that it is not true that this Putsch began suddenly and that between both coups we lived in a bright and happy Latvia without worries. No! On 20 August it was planned, as we used to say in Latvia, to sign or not to sign the New Soviet Treaty. The Putsch began on 19 August. It means that a certain amount of pressure, by no means small, was imposed through propaganda and on the Latvian government. And we were organising an extensive campaign called the Flaming Baltic Way. Of course, now it is clear that unique actions cannot be repeated, but we wanted to have another Baltic Way by lighting bonfires from Tallinn through Riga to Vilnius located at such a distance one from another so that by standing next to one bonfire one could see the next bonfire; thus we protested against this forced New Soviet Treaty.

There were other activities as well; I don’t remember… We had posters showing this Flaming Baltic Way and other activities – we had an extensive campaign. There were also meetings with Estonians and Lithuanians taking place in Latvia. So nothing was sudden. It was clear that there would be something regarding that New Soviet Treaty. Something like a coup. Probably those who organised it were satisfied neither with us nor with the New Soviet Treaty. They wanted to do everything in an old-fashioned – orthodox, conservative – way; but the feeling of pressure, of something in the air was there; it was obvious.

It was an irony of fate that the Flaming Baltic Way was held, but it was also our march of triumph on 23 August. I remember that the Vidzeme administrative district of Riga had even thought of… how to place fires on Brīvības iela. They made something like pans, which were planned to be sold afterwards as barbeque frying pans, and placed them on Brīvības iela, and the fires were set up there. They were set up in many places. Of course, this event cannot be compared with 1989, but it happened.

Then the events developed very, very rapidly. We came together in safe houses in Pārdaugava, Ziepniekkalns and other areas of Riga where we held the Board meetings to analyse the situation and to decide what to do next. The action plan for all supporters of independence was outlined in an appeal for action in emergency situations, which was published in the newspaper Diena. And then we held informative meetings together with the Supreme Council of the Republic of Latvia by the exhibition hall Arsenāls in order to inform people because information was not publicly available, and we started to plan the strike – a pan-Latvian strike. I remember that late one evening I and Roberts Millers, a member of the Board of the Latvian Popular Front, were calling from the flat of Drosma Blagoveščenska, the coordinating officer of the Latvian Popular Front, the divisions of the Latvian Popular Front in large enterprises and institutions to discuss the best way to conduct the strike. As far as I know, the government and the trade unions supported the idea albeit not very readily. We were not certain, but it was clear that this was an event that we could organise.

Interviewer.

Was there any feeling that not only your life but the lives of your family members were in danger?

R. Ražuks.

Of course. I lived next to the OMON building at the flat of Andruss Poksus, the driver of the Latvian Popular Front, in Vecmīlgrāvis area of Riga …

Interviewer.

In a safe place!

R. Ražuks.

In a safe place because the people over there probably did not recognise my face. He had a flat over there which he wasn’t using, and that was the main thing. It was like that. And we had a VAZ of the Latvian Popular Front, and so we sheltered ourselves there in Vecmīlgrāvis.

I requested my wife… Our daughter Danute was just born on 23 January – actually… no, practically an infant – and I requested them to leave, not to be at home, and so they stayed with our neighbour Marek Pedersen, who was then the manager of SAS airline company’s branch in Latvia, who… I don’t know, I guess now he is known as the son-in-law of Raimonds Pauls [Latvian composer and pianist]; he was a very decent man from Denmark. He sheltered them, including the infant. It was clear that something could happen. Of course, that’s what we thought although there were no actual threats; it was rather a feeling of helplessness, of our inability to influence anything. But we took all these practical measures.

Interviewer.

Did you go to the Supreme Council as well?

R. Ražuks.

Yes, on all of those days I went to the Supreme Council building, and there we deliberated and worked… Back then I was… what was it called precisely… a member of the National Security Council because there was neither an army nor… and the leader of the Latvian Popular Front, was one real, as I laughed, brigade or probably, the regiment general… the highest rank… with all those people. There was the Mayor of the Riga City, Minister for the Interior, leaders of the government and the Saeima, Tālavs Jundzis [Chairman of the Defence and the Interior Committee of the Supreme Council of the Republic of Latvia]… So the discussions were held all the time about that.

I remember the end most vividly – when OMON’s armoured personnel carriers entered Dome Square in the first part of the day on 21 August and started to create a stir, to throw smoke bombs. There was a concrete wall with an iron gate, which had remained there since January; we exited through that gate, and it was just as in a Georgian short movie where people – women with prams, etc. – had gathered to see a building on fire. I assumed that there were several hundreds of people scattered throughout Dome Square. We started to guide them away – lead them away, tell them to run away because armoured personnel carriers were driving around; people from armoured personnel carriers were rioting, throwing smoke bombs. But they kept watching. In my opinion, this is another typical trait of the Soviet people – if something is happening, one has to go and see it, confident that nothing bad can happen. It was clear because nothing in this country could happen without the permission of the party and government … A man from Cēsis who was working in the sphere of culture reminded me of this event; I had forgotten about it.

And then this process of guiding people away slowed down; we did not hear the radio; we had no information, and the armoured personnel carriers stopped, and throwing of smoke bombs ceased… They stood there for a while – I don’t remember for how long – but it could have been around 1 p.m., and then they withdrew and left. We thought: “Now the hell will break loose!” They were just a sort of reconnaissance team which came here to assess where what was happening, and now the commandoes will come, a real force will come. With such a “cheerful” idea, we bid farewell to mommies with prams and returned to the main building of the Saeima, where we found out that the Putsch had failed – such information was received by the Media Centre.

Interviewer.

But while you didn’t have this information, what was the most dreadful vision about what could happen? If the Putsch had succeeded…

R. Ražuks.

If the Putsch had succeeded, then, of course, there would have been repressions – I don’t know how severe. Undoubtedly, a part of the government or organisers would be killed; I just don’t know how large a part. But, of course, all of us, members of the Board of the Latvian Popular Front, and some other people, regardless of their membership in the Supreme Council, would also be among them. I don’t think that there would have been any deportations. People would be simply arrested; maybe some kind of camp would be set up. It’s hard to tell. Later this system was implemented during the war in Chechnya, but I think that we would have had something similar. There would be no hesitation. And once again – it was a matter of time. Our appeal for action in an emergency situation clearly stated that it is essential to survive the first hours and days – such terror could not last forever; various mechanisms would start functioning – international, local. Furthermore, the state simply had to keep functioning. So nothing would be eternal.

I think that there would have been rather severe terror, and that which could be observed in Chechnya was not something learned or recalled – organisers of the Putsch had never forgotten anything; they materialised their ideas.

Interviewer.

If the Putsch had succeeded and you had been given the option to emigrate, what would you have done?

R. Ražuks.

Of course, I would have emigrated together with my family because it is clear that there would have been no mercy; there would be no other option. We didn’t have any camps or something like that in woods, we weren’t suited for that. As I said, we had this non-violent resistance.

Interviewer.

Was the fate of the Putsch decided in Moscow? Yeltsin actually ended the Putsch. Have we given enough credit historically to the Russian democrats’ actions in our favour?

R. Ražuks.

I think that during his visit to Latvia, Yeltsin… he was appropriately thanked for that. In this regard, I don’t remember what kind of medal of merit he was awarded, but there were discussions about that. There was a chance to see Yeltsin after the failure of the Putsch when he came to visit Gorbunovs [Chairman of the Supreme Council of the Republic of Latvia] in his residence in Jūrmala for a couple of days on vacation. I saw him; I heard what he was saying. Back then we – some leaders of that time together with our wives – were suddenly invited by Gorbunovs to visit his residence. That was in August a few days after the failure of the Putsch. I thought: “What are we celebrating? Kind of inappropriate…” The following evening we came and saw Yeltsin with his spouse. It turned out that he had come to visit his close acquaintance, Gorbunovs, to take a rest, renew his strength, and he succeeded quickly because naturally he had exhausted himself during the Putsch. Tables were set, and there was one funny situation. One has to remember that it was August 1991, when nothing could be bought, when the shops were empty. And everything from the best restaurants, with the best service, with alcoholic beverages… Tables were full but after a while, when Yeltsin had already had something to drink, he asked: “Where’s the champagne?” There was no champagne, and it was impossible to go to some 24/7 shop or to call someone to get it. There was no champagne in the entire Jūrmala and the entire Latvia. “How’s that possible?” he asked. “How’s that possible?” – “There is none!” – “How? Then we will bring it!” And he stood up. His wife… there… All honour to him, after 45 minutes the champagne arrived, and the incident was resolved.

What was my point? It is clear that back then Gorbunovs, Yeltsin and all of us were on the same side, and the fact that he came to Jūrmala confidently to take a rest was a testimony to the level of mutual trust. And the fact that Gorbunovs hosted him as well… from Gorbunovs and the rest of us… it couldn’t have happened… just with the decision of Gorbunovs and the perception of his role. So Yeltsin undoubtedly has to be praised for keeping that historic “gap” open for a while and thus allowing us to escape.