The diplomatic euphemism for what Russia has been doing to its western neighbors is "hybrid threats." The Latvian response, unveiled this weekend, dispenses with euphemism altogether: ban them all.
Prime Minister Andris Kulbergs has called on the European Union to prohibit tourist and short-stay visas for Russian citizens, linking ordinary travelers to what he describes as an escalating campaign of sabotage, disinformation, and intimidation emanating from Moscow. It is the most aggressive border proposal any EU member has floated since the full-scale invasion of Ukraine began, and it forces Brussels into a conversation it has spent years avoiding.
The Baltic calculus
Latvia, Estonia, and Lithuania have operated for years on a premise that Western Europe has been reluctant to accept: that the post-Cold War settlement with Russia is not merely fraying but functionally over. All three have already implemented their own restrictions on Russian travelers, but national measures are porous when Schengen allows visa-free movement once someone enters the bloc through, say, Helsinki or Berlin. Kulbergs's proposal is designed to close that gap—and to force Germany, France, and Italy to choose sides.
The hybrid-threat framing is deliberate. Baltic intelligence services have documented a surge in suspected Russian operatives entering on tourist visas, and Latvia has expelled dozens of Russian diplomats and nationals over the past two years. Kulbergs is arguing, in effect, that the visa system has become a vector for state-sponsored hostility and that treating Russian civilians as ordinary tourists is a security liability the EU can no longer afford.
The Brussels dilemma
The proposal will face fierce resistance. Germany's coalition government has historically opposed collective punishment of Russian citizens, arguing that isolating ordinary Russians only strengthens the Kremlin's narrative. France has echoed similar concerns, and southern European states with tourism-dependent economies have little appetite for blanket bans that could invite retaliation.
But the political ground has shifted. The Trump administration's decision this week to waive several Russia sanctions has unnerved European capitals and made hawkish positions more palatable. If Washington is stepping back, the argument goes, Europe must step forward—and the Baltics are offering a template.
What a ban would mean
A full EU visa ban would affect millions of Russians who currently travel to Europe for family visits, medical care, business, and tourism. It would also represent a fundamental reordering of the bloc's relationship with Russian civil society, treating the population as inseparable from its government's actions. Critics will call it collective punishment; supporters will call it overdue realism.
Our take
Kulbergs is not going to get his ban—not soon, anyway. But that may not be the point. The Baltics have learned that moving the Overton window in Brussels requires proposals that seem extreme until, suddenly, they don't. Two years ago, sending tanks to Ukraine was unthinkable. Today, Latvia is asking whether Russian tourists should be treated like Russian tanks. The question is no longer whether Europe will harden its eastern border, but how hard, and how fast.
