A Latvian First and Always

Latvian President Vaira Vike-Freiberga at a Holocaust exhibit in Jerusalem. She was honored last week for her efforts for human rights. (By Eliana Aponte -- Reuters)

It was Friday night, June 17, 1999, and Vaira Vike-Freiberga , a clinical psychologist with expertise in Latvian folk songs, was at her desk in Riga when the telephone rang. Would she consider becoming Latvia's president? Let me know quickly, said the caller, a politician; the Latvian Parliament was deadlocked and needed a new candidate.

After consulting with her family, she gave her answer that evening: Yes. By midnight, Parliament had voted. When she walked into the hair salon the next morning for her appointment, she was president-elect.

Such was the latest swerve in the life of a woman who as a child lived in refugee camps in Germany, studied in a one-room schoolhouse in Morocco and immigrated to Canada. There, her life stabilized, and for 33 years she was a lecturer at the University of Montreal's department of psychology.

Along the way, she clung to the identity of the country she had left. "I grew up feeling that our cultural heritage was something precious," she said in an interview at the Hay-Adams Hotel near the White House. "The only common thread of identity was about being Latvian."

She finally returned in 1998 to the country, newly independent half a century after being annexed by the Soviet Union.

Poised, articulate and full of vitality, Vike-Freiberga credits her rise to power to her interest in things Latvian -- and to the media, which from almost the minute she stepped off the plane showed interest in her as a possible leader. Magazines put flattering pictures of her on the cover, writing about her lectures to Latvians on their folklore.

She is in her second four-year term, and she is mentioned as a possible U.N. secretary general, to replace Kofi Annan when his term expires Dec. 31.

During a visit to Washington last week, Vike-Freiberga accepted the Baltic Statesmanship Award. Former secretary of state Madeleine K. Albright said in introducing her Saturday night at a U.S.-Baltic Foundation dinner: "Democracy is known for producing miracles, but this one was a dandy."

"One of the most precious gifts that the Baltic community brings to the community of democracies is a living memory of having lived without freedom," Albright said. "President Vike-Freiberga has proven throughout her career that it is possible to deeply care about your nation's history and culture while still championing the freedoms that are the rightful heritage of all humankind."

Vike-Freiberga was born in Riga in 1937. She was 7 when in 1945 her parents, terrified at the thought of the Soviet army rolling into Latvia, decided to leave. The family landed in a refugee camp in Herrenwiek, Germany, and later lived in Luebeck, Germany. She still recalls the train station there and the three-walled ruin of a flat that relatives provided.

The family survived on rations from a U.N. relief agency. Notebooks, ink and pencils were hard to come by. When she was asked to draw a forest, the only crayons she had were red and blue.

By late 1948, refugee associations were growing tired of supporting refugees. Many were sent to other countries. Her father, an architect, became a hand at a sugar beet farm in Morocco because she, her mother and younger brother could come along.