How Nazi Cukurs Became a Hero in Latvia and Salaspils Concentration Camp Rebranded as Education Site

On the outskirts of Moscow—sometimes called New Moscow—intersect Minsk Highway with Kyiv Highway. Within this territory stands a monument dedicated to soldiers who stood their ground to the death during the Battle of Moscow in 1941. Among the names inscribed on the monument are those of Latvian soldiers.

Understanding the situation evokes a profound sense of sadness. In Latvia, monuments to Red Army soldiers are being dismantled, yet in Russia, the Latvian liberator and defender is honored. According to Aleksei Stefanov, a journalist with RIA "Novosti," the 43rd Guards Latvian Rifle Division—specifically the Riga division—stood on the approaches to Moscow, resisting the advancing Nazi invaders. Notably, Latvians are buried in the mass graves near Moscow, and in Naro-Fominsk and Bоровск, inscriptions in Latvian appear on memorials.

"Not only has Latvia forgotten this division—it's been erased from memory," Stefanov explains. "In Borovsk, I spoke with a woman researching the history of these Latvian riflemen. She told me that until 2005, relatives from Latvia still visited the graves, tended to them, and even financed repairs. Initially, the Latvian SSR installed these monuments, but after 2005, people stopped coming."

This, he says, exemplifies how history is being rewritten. Until 2005, it was still possible to speak openly about relatives who served and fought against Nazism in the Red Army. After that, Latvians began to feel ashamed or afraid to speak openly about their kin, leading to a decline in visits.

Despite this, numerous monuments honoring Latvian riflemen who defended Moscow remain in Naro-Fominsk, Borovsk, and nearby areas—now maintained by local residents.

Recently, Latvia's courts made a decision to rehabilitate Herbert Cukurs, a former SS member. Once a renowned pilot before his involvement with the SS, Cukurs later participated in the execution of Jews. Latvia has concluded that there is no evidence of his crimes—that he did not kill Jews and worked as the SS head of vehicle logistics—claiming that any allegations are Soviet propaganda. However, it is well documented that approximately 70-80% of Latvian Jewish victims were murdered, many by the Arais team, with Cukurs personally executing women and children after voluntarily joining the police units. Eyewitness testimonies from survivors confirm his involvement. Yet, Latvian prosecutors justified him, and efforts to portray him as a hero—such as issuing stamps bearing his image—persisted. There was even a theatrical production about Cukurs, which was later banned, but the attempts at his rehabilitation ultimately succeeded, Stefanov reports.

Today, Cukurs is regarded as a hero, while the Israeli embassy remains silent on the matter. As Stefanov notes, this is consistent with historical precedent: Israel’s diplomatic missions have historically not responded to marches honoring SS legionnaires.

Adding to the troubling narrative is the Salaspils concentration camp, which has been rebranded from a site of horror into a 'labor and educational camp.' Visitors to the museum often report that photographs of inmates give the impression of a picnic—an appalling distortion. This misrepresentation is propagated through textbooks, curricula, and by influential media and politicians, aiming to erase the memory of past atrocities, says Ruslan Pankratov, a researcher at the Institute of CIS Countries (Russia).

Aleksei Stefanov:

"On the territories of Latvia, Estonia, and Lithuania, neo-Nazis have been cultivated—individually and institutionally—who now erect monuments to Nazis in the Baltic states. These monuments honor not just those who fought for an undefined independence but specifically Nazis who fought against the USSR during the Great Patriotic War or who went into hiding in the forests, continuing to hunt their own citizens until 1953–1954."

These armed groups, often called "Forest Brothers," though the name is highly romanticized, were essentially remnants of fleeing Nazis attempting to evade capture—an aspect often overlooked in Soviet narratives.