Russia’s invasion of Ukraine has complicated things for Latvia’s Russian-speakers, who are already caught between ties to the country and cultural and linguistic identity, and now fear becoming collateral victims of the Moscow war.

“With the war in Ukraine, Latvians’ attitudes towards their Russian-speaking fellow citizens have deteriorated significantly,” said Vladimir Dorofeev, a 48-year-old tour guide and member of the country’s minority.

The Russian-speaking population of the Baltic state is “associated with Russia”.

The father of three – a Russian speaker born and raised in the capital Riga and married to a Latvian – attended a rally of Latvia’s Russian Union party.

Holding signs reading “No to assimilation” and “Stop linguistic genocide”, around 100 people are protesting against a reform that makes Latvian the only language of instruction.

Dorofeyev remains undecided whether he will vote for the Latvian-Russian Union in Saturday’s parliamentary elections.

According to opinion polls, the small party suspected of being part of the Kremlin is hovering, like other groups traditionally associated with the Russian-speaking minority, on the electoral threshold.

That was not always so. In the last decade, most elections have been won by the social democratic party Harmony, which is supported by Russian speakers.

But Harmony never found an ally to rule with as other parties kept their distance.

“The war in Ukraine has changed attitudes towards Russian speakers in Latvia, especially among those who have painful memories of the Soviet Union,” said Tatiana Efimova, a member of the minority.

“For some, everything related to Russia and the Russian language is painful,” she told AFP.

The 40-year-old logistician said she does not feel discriminated against in Latvia.

“I am ethnic Russian but I speak Latvian. I have Latvian friends and no one has ever said anything to me,” she said.

Latvians “want to protect their language, their nation, their identity. There are few of them, so it is understandable.”

According to an April opinion poll, support for Russia among Russian-speaking Latvians fell to 13 percent from 20 the previous month, while support for Ukraine rose from 25 percent to 30 percent.

The indecisiveness remained constant at 47 percent, the research center SKDS found.

Ruled over the centuries by Crusaders, Swedes, Poles and then Russians, Latvia gained independence in 1918 before falling under Soviet occupation from 1944 to 1990.

Tens of thousands of Latvians were deported and replaced by Russians, noticeably changing the country’s social and linguistic composition.

Today, the Russian-speaking minority makes up around 30 percent of the 1.8 million inhabitants.

After Latvia regained independence in 1991, the political class championed the model of a nation-state built around Latvian national identity rather than a multicultural country, said Sergejs Kruks, an expert in culture and communications.

“According to this nationalist view that still prevails today, anyone born into Russian culture is by definition supportive of Putin’s policies,” he told AFP.

In 1991, Latvia passed a law granting citizenship only to those who were Latvians before 1940 and their descendants, and not to all.

Since then, anyone wishing to acquire citizenship has had to pass a Latvian language and history test — a difficult task for many Russian speakers, especially the elderly.

Some cannot or do not want to take this hurdle and end up as non-citizens who receive an “alien passport” without citizenship.

Non-citizens make up nearly 10 percent of the population. They have no right to vote and cannot work in the public sector or become a lawyer, notary or pharmacist.

Their situation has prompted the Kremlin to criticize Latvia, which does not hide its skepticism about Russia – despite EU and NATO membership.

The Ukraine war only made things more complicated.

“In Latvia, Russian speakers are collateral victims of the war, so to speak,” said Miroslavs Mitrofanovs, co-chair of the Latvian-Russian Union.

“The Russian authorities have let go of the hands of the Latvian nationalists, who are now taking it out on us,” said Mitrofanovs, who appeared frequently on Russian state television before the war.

“They banned the Russian language in schools and on Russian television, they tore down monuments to the liberators of Nazism,” he told AFP, referring to a Riga monument celebrating the Red Army that was dismantled last month.

For the Latvian writer Arvids Degis, this type of narrative is marginal and more likely to emerge around election time.

“But it doesn’t stick and is usually derided as ‘pro-Kremlin fake news,'” he told AFP.