On January 7, 2010 in a quiet neighborhood on the northwest side of Washington, D.C. the Latvian government sold a small piece of land that once had a big impact on our countryâ€™s history The brown brick 2-story building on the corner of 17th and Webster in Washington, D.C. may have served as Latviaâ€™s first Embassy in the United States for 14 years, but for many, it will always be remembered in its first diplomatic incarnation, as The Legation of Latvia.
What exactly is a â€˜legationâ€™ and why were Latvia and Lithuania the last countries in the world to have them? In the beginning of the last century, most foreign diplomatic missions were called â€˜legationsâ€™, but after World War II it became fashionable to upgrade them to embassies. Unlike Latvia and Lithuania, which established legations in pre-war Washington, D.C., Estonia chose instead to open a general consulate in New York. Since all three countries came under Soviet occupation in 1940, none of them could upgrade to their missions to embassies, and their designations remained frozen in place during the Cold War.
Thanks to the U.S. non-recognition policy, and despite endless protests from the Soviets, these three Baltic missions and their envoys-in-exile retained their official status, and had the same immunity and privileges of other diplomatic representations in the United States. They drove cars with diplomatic plates, conducted business with State Department officials, and were invited to meet the President in the White House once a year.
Prior to World War II, the Lithuanians managed to purchase a splendid building on 16th. street, coincidently, just down the block from the Polish legation. The Estonians rented an office in Manhattanâ€™s Rockefeller Center. Both continued to use these same facilities after the Soviet occupation in 1940. The Latvians were renters in Washington until 1953, when they bought the modest brick 2-story family house in a residential neighborhood on the corner of 17th and Webster.
The Latvian diplomats who served in the Washington Legation from the 40â€™s until the 90â€™s were all career diplomats who had served in other countries prior to the war and had refused to return to Soviet-ruled Latvia. Since the United Kingdom also allowed Latvia to retain a Legation, those who didnâ€™t go to London came to Washington. Many were accomplished scholars, and supplemented their limited diplomatic duties in exile by writing extensively about Latvian history and culture. Two of the best English-language histories of Latvia were written by Latvian diplomats in Washington, D.C.: Alfred Bilmanis (1187-1948) and Arnolds Spekke (1887â€“1972). Spekke headed the Washington Legation from 1963 until 1971 and worked on his seminal work from his corner office at 17th and Webster. From Washington, the diplomats also maintained close ties with the Latvian exile community. As head of the Legation, Julijs Feldmanis (1889-1953), played a key role in the establishment of the American Latvian Association (1953), which grew to become the largest and most influential Latvian organization in the diaspora.
Anatols Dinbergs (1911- 1993) took over the D.C. Legation in 1971, during which time he also wrote his PhD thesis at Georgetown University. Heads of mission were formally called â€˜charges dâ€™affairesâ€™ in diplomatic circles, and Dinbergs held this title for 20 years. During the 1980â€™s, Dinbergs, Stasys Lozoraitis of Lithuania and Ernst Jaakson of Estonia, were well known in Washington, D.C. as the grand old men of Baltic diplomacy. They were the keepers of the keys, the guardians of Baltic sovereignty and true diplomats in every sense of the word.
When I joined the Legation in January 1991 as its public affairs liaison, Dinbergs had two fully accredited diplomats on his staff: Valdemars Kreicbergs (1912-1995) and JÄnis LÅ«sis (1945). While Kreicbergs, like Dinbergs, Spekke, and others had been part of Latviaâ€™s original diplomatic corps prior to the occupation, LÅ«sis was something of a diplomatic precedent. He was born in a refugee camp in Germany and had grown up in Canada. In the mid 1980â€™s as the number of Latviaâ€™s living pre-war diplomats dwindled, Dinbergs feared that the Legation could be forced to close its doors after his tenure ended. So he convinced the U.S. State Department to allow him to appoint new diplomats to keep the Legation functioning after his eventual departure. There was just one condition: they couldnâ€™t be U.S. citizens. LÅ«sis, a Latvian with Canadian citizenship, joined the Washington Legation in 1986. He served as 1st secretary of the Legation until 1991 and is the only person to become a fully accredited Latvian diplomat during the years of occupation. JÄnis later became counselor at Washington embassy, and served as Latviaâ€™s ambassador in the UK, Canada and Italy.
JÄnis LÅ«sis is also one of only three people still alive who have worked at the building at 17th and Webster when it was still a Legation. In addition to myself, the third person is a remarkable woman named Luti Moran. If Anatols Dinbergs was the â€˜headâ€™ of the Legation for two decades, Luti was its heart. She also happened to be a Filipina, although by the early 80â€™s many Latvians who called the Legation and spoke to this charming secretary were convinced she was from Latgale. Luti not only managed the day-to-business of the Legation and served as Dinbergâ€™s personal secretary, she also became fluent enough in Latvian to carry on lengthy conversations with callers.
While Legation diplomats maintained close ties with the Latvian-American community and its organizations, it had no contact whatsoever with Soviet-occupied Latvia. This changed with the rise of the Popular Front in 1989, as glasnost allowed Latvian activists to visit Washington, D.C. For many, the Legation was the end point of sacred pilgrimage, for when they stepped through the doors of the house on 17th and Webster, they were setting foot for the first time on the fully independent and sovereign territory of the Republic of Latvia.
Every diplomatic mission answers to its foreign minister and home government, but during the Soviet occupation, the Latvian Legation had neither. Just before the occupation, the Latvian Cabinet of Ministers empowered Latviaâ€™s chief diplomat in London, KÄrlis ZariÅ†Å¡, to head all missions abroad and represent the Republic of Latvia if the government falls. After ZariÅ†Å¡ death in 1963, this authority fell to the head of the Legation in Washington, D.C. In June 1990, another precedent was set when Latviaâ€™s newly elected Prime Minister Ivars Godmanis and Foreign Minister JÄnis JurkÄns walked past the oval metal shield designating 17th and Webster as the Legation of Latvia, and passed through the white double doors that led to the office of the charges dâ€™affaires, Dr. Anatols Dinbergs. For the first time since Latviaâ€™s occupation, the head of its diplomatic corps was meeting face to face with his foreign minister.
The meeting was â€˜unofficialâ€™ because Godmanis and JurkÄns represented what was still the (diplomatically unrecognized) Soviet Republic of Latvia, while Dinbergs represented the independent (but illegally occupied) Republic of Latvia. For this reason, Dinbergs was not able to accompany Godmanis and JurkÄns to the White House later that week when they met with President George Bush. But contacts had been established between 17th and Webster and Riga, and while de facto would not become de jure for another 15 months, the diplomatic die had been cast.
By 1991, a steady stream of Popular Front and LNNK leaders began to make regular visits. One of my key contacts was SarmÄ«te Elerte, who worked in the press office of the Popular Front, but was already creating the new daily newspaper â€™Dienaâ€™. Communication with Latvia largely took place through my computer which had a telex connection to the Latvian Foreign Ministry. (Internet was still many years away.) In my 2nd floor, back porch office, I got a blow-by-blow account of the Omon attacks in Riga during the Days of the Barricades from Ints Upmacis, who manned the Ministryâ€™s telex until the Black Berets chased him and other staffers from their offices.
The Washington media had largely ignored the obscure diplomatic mission at 17th and Webster during the Cold War, but in 1991 it became a center of attention and a major source of news about what was happening in Latvia. On September 2, 1991 Dr. Anatols Dinbergâ€™s corner office was packed with cameras, reporters and well-wishers, all with their eyes glued to a TV set that was broadcasting live coverage of a press conference in Kennebunkport, Maine. When President Bush announced that the United States had restored full diplomatic relations with the Latvian government in Riga, we popped the champagne corks and Dr. Dinbergs became the lead story on the evening news. With that, the days of the Latvian â€˜Legationâ€™ were numbered. Not long after, Dinbergs was appointed Ambassador to the United States. And the brick house at 4325 17th Street N.W. that for 38 years had stood on the sovereign soil of the Republic of Latvia, became a full-fledged, honest-to-goodness Embassy.
I spent the next 8 years at the â€˜Embassyâ€™ at 17th, and Webster, seven of those as Ambassador. My first Deputy Chief of Mission was my old telex-colleague from the Foreign Ministry, Ints Upmacis, who later became Latviaâ€™s Ambassador to Portugal. Since 2000, Aivis Ronis, MÄris RiekstiÅ†Å¡ and Andrejs PildegovicÅ¡ have followed in Anatols Dinbergsâ€™ footsteps as Latvian Ambassadors to the United States. MÄris RiekstiÅ†Å¡ (now Foreign Minister) was the last Latvian ambassador to work at 17th and Webster, for it was under his tenure that a new embassy building was purchased on Washingtonâ€™s prestigiousÂ â€˜Embassy Rowâ€™ at 2306 Massachusetts Ave, on Sheridan Circle.
So despite its 14 years of service as Latviaâ€™s Embassy in the United States, when I heard the news that the building at 17th and Webster had finally been sold, I thought of it one last time in the way I knew it most fondly: The Legation. For almost 4 decades it stood as a symbol of our sovereignty, and a testimony to the patriotism, stubbornness and dignity of our diplomatic corps. It may have been a small piece of Latvia, but it played a huge role in the history of our country.