Sixty-year-old Domila walks with her neighbour toward a large war monument in Duprovina Park in Daugavpils, Latvia’s second-largest city, just 20 kilometres from Belarus. She carries a bag with flowers, intending to place them at the monument a day before Victory Day. However, they are quickly approached by two police officers watching them closely. The pair decide to turn back, leaving the flowers in the bag.
“We wanted to lay flowers at the monument, but we weren’t brave enough. The officers didn’t say much, but I was afraid of being arrested,” Domila explains. “My father fought in the Soviet army and lost his leg. I want to remember him, as well as the Ukrainian soldiers dying now.”
Strict monitoring
The police presence discouraged Domila, who fears the consequences of her visit. Technically, she wasn’t breaking the law: Duprovina Park is one of the few places in the city where laying flowers on 9 May is quietly tolerated. The graves beneath the monument make banning flowers at this site legally complicated.
However, the war monument faces tight surveillance on Russia’s Victory Day. On 9 May, the small park is patrolled by over 60 police officers, drones, and cameras. Anyone openly displaying Russian symbols is immediately detained.
Elsewhere, bringing flowers to other parts of the city also risks police intervention. A man who places a flower at Glorie Square—where a prominent Soviet monument once stood—is promptly detained. His wife shouts after him in Russian. Latvian authorities removed the monument two years ago in response to the Ukraine war. Once the main site for 9 May ceremonies, gatherings there are now prohibited.
Latvia divided
Since last year, all forms of 9 May celebrations have been banned in Latvia. Initially, two months after Russia’s invasion, the Latvian parliament proposed commemorating Ukrainian victims on this day. By 2023, an outright ban was introduced, except for Europe Day, which is also observed on 9 May. Laying flowers in public spaces is now prohibited, except at cemeteries.
Victory Day has long divided Latvia. Many ethnic Russians view it as a tribute to defeating Nazi Germany. Over 70,000 Latvians fought in the Soviet army that defeated Nazi Germany in 1944. Yet, for many Latvians, the day symbolises the start of another Soviet occupation.
The Baltic states have made concerted efforts to distance themselves from their Russian past. Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania have dismantled Soviet monuments. Russian language use is also restricted: education in Russian is being phased out, and since last year, Latvian residents who cannot speak the national language risk losing their residency permits. During the Cold War, many Russians moved to Latvia. While many remained after the Soviet Union dissolved, they were never required to learn Latvian. Today, 35% of Latvia’s population considers Russian their native language.
The heavy police presence at the Daugavpils monument frustrates some. “It’s not normal to have police here,” says Igor, briefly visiting the site. “My grandfather died in World War II; it should be normal to honour him.” Vladimir, placing a flower nearby, adds, “Everyone in Latvia, especially in this part of the country, has lost family members. They’re family heroes. The government thinks we’re pro-Soviet, but we just want to remember our families.”
Under pressure
Those wishing to commemorate on 9 May must choose their locations carefully. Flowers are allowed at the military Soviet cemetery, but placing them anywhere nearby draws police attention. “We’re celebrating freedom today, but it’s possible in fewer and fewer places,” says Ekaterina, visiting the cemetery with her daughter. “This is one of the few memorial sites left; the rest have been closed. You’re not allowed there anymore.” She resents the police monitoring. “The officers are strict and make it clear where we can and can’t go.”
Her 23-year-old daughter Anastasia criticises the restrictions on Victory Day. “The government acts like we fought against these people, but many of us lost family too.” She feels the Latvian government pressures her Russian-speaking family. “We’re not even allowed to speak our own language anymore, even though we’ve lived here alongside Latvians for centuries. My brother is in high school, and Russian has been fully replaced by Latvian. He’s falling behind in subjects like maths because he doesn’t know the language well.”
A sea of flowers
On 9 May, Latvian police arrest 19 people, including six in Daugavpils. Despite this, the Duprovina Park monument becomes a sea of flowers the following day. The police were lenient in the eastern Latvian city, notes Denis, visiting the monument with his grandmother. “They’re pretty relaxed here. I haven’t had any trouble with them.” Things are stricter in the capital, Riga, Denis adds. “It’s much tougher there.”
Historian Maija Grizane, from the University of Daugavpils, observes that Victory Day in Latvia is changing under government restrictions. “You need symbols and meaning if you want to commemorate something. Many Soviet symbols have been removed or banned, which diminishes the day’s significance.” She also notes that the day causes polarisation in Latvia. “This day could become a form of resistance for those who disagree with national policies.” However, she quickly adds: “Our society is quite calm. We’re not used to revolutions; people here don’t like them.”

A day later, the war monument in Daugavpils is transformed into a sea of flowers. Photo: Jorik Simonides