Opinion piece by Ilona Bērziņa
Rail Baltica promises the evacuation of nearly 100 000 people per day. Where? How? With what? The project continues to drift along, there are no trains, no accountability, but political rhetoric is in full bloom. For now, reality is relentlessly lagging behind the promises.
Last week we learned that in the event of a military conflict, Rail Baltica’s “emergency transportation capacity for residents would be up to 98 000 people per day.” With such enthusiasm, it would be possible to evacuate all 605 273 residents of Riga within six days. Seriously?!
Assuming that the Ministry of Transport’s Rail Baltica project department is mainly responsible for planning, oversight, and financial control, such a claim would require serious justification, calculations, expert opinions, and similar support.
If the main goal is to calm politicians and the public, then, in my opinion, we are being told fairy tales with no basis in reality. Perhaps that’s why the meeting of the Saeima’s Defence, Internal Affairs and Corruption Prevention Committee began with a debate on whether it should be public or confidential. The prevailing view was that “the meeting is about meaningful understanding of where we are.” Unfortunately, instead of meaningful understanding, we just got more pulling the wool over our eyes because it remained unclear where these trains for the 100 000 people per day would come from, from where and to where these people would be transported, and whether it is even technically feasible for fully loaded trains to run at such short intervals that they resemble sausages strung together.
No trains now – nor in the near future
To transport passengers—regardless of the number—trains are needed, but there are none, and there won’t be any in the foreseeable future. This is nothing new. As recently as last summer, when news broke of the Rail Baltica project’s fourfold cost increase, the State Audit Office noted that the ministries had not decided on a model for train procurement or on the institution that would be responsible for this task.
“If a decision is not made soon, there is a risk that by 2030/2031, trains will still not be running on the new railway. Furthermore, the costs of purchasing trains, as well as maintaining and operating the railway, are not included in the project’s budget and cannot be financed by European Union funds.” Nearly a year after the Audit Office’s statement, “RB Rail” CEO Marko Kivila warned that the train procurement process should begin this summer. Otherwise, the tracks will remain empty and silent in 2030.
Kivila also proposed a joint train procurement by the Baltic states, which, given the scale of the order, would significantly reduce costs. However, the real question is whether we can reach an agreement and conduct such procurement without any hidden pitfalls and appeals that would drag it out for years. When it comes to bureaucratic sabotage, we are specialists. It took Latvia 14 years to acquire the ViVi trains, while Estonia received its “Stadler”-built trains just four years after announcing the tender. Estonians and Lithuanians will need very serious arguments to accept our national bureaucratic peculiarities.
Promises have nothing to do with reality
Let’s imagine a miracle happens, and the first high-speed trains actually start running in 2030, and the tracks, though lacking in bells and whistles, are operational. A logical question arises: can the railway even handle 100 000 passengers per day? What kind of monster system is needed to transport the equivalent of Riga’s entire population somewhere in just six days? Does that sound believable? It doesn’t.
Using simple math, journalist Lato Lapsa illustrates the absurdity. If one Rail Baltica train can carry 560 passengers, and in a military conflict that number is doubled, then to move 100 000 people per day, 100 trainsets would be needed running at 15-minute intervals. If each train can carry only 560 passengers, the interval drops to 7.5 minutes. Where are the expert analyses and calculations proving such traffic intensity is safe? And where in this “train chain” will the military cargo go—cargo without which we won’t get far in the worst-case scenario? Where exactly are these “100 000 people per day” being taken? To Poland? Germany? Somewhere else?
There are no answers, but it’s clear that there is a growing tendency to reframe Rail Baltica as a militarily motivated project that appeals to the public. It’s no coincidence that both the Rail Baltica and Ministry of Transport websites published a survey earlier this year showing that “60% of respondents in Latvia, 52% in Estonia, and 72% in Lithuania believe that military mobility is the main reason for building a high-speed railway line connecting the three Baltic states with Poland and the broader EU transport corridor.” Honestly, who even remembers that the original project made no mention of military mobility?
Ministry of Defence distancing itself from Rail Baltica
The geopolitical situation has changed since those days, and so have the project’s goals. That’s why the questions posed by MP Andris Kulbergs, chair of the parliamentary investigative commission on Rail Baltica, are so important: “Is Rail Baltica part of Latvia’s military defence plan? What functions and requirements is Rail Baltica expected to fulfill? Why has Rail Baltica not been granted military status?” Needless to say, there are no concrete answers.
According to Kulbergs, changing Rail Baltica’s status to military would allow it to apply for EU defence funding, potentially solving at least part of the project’s endless financial problems. If the TEN-T railway was recently recognized as a strategic solution for military mobility, then why is Rail Baltica, the troubled child of the Baltic states, considered any less important?
So far, it seems that both the Defence and Transport ministries couldn’t care less about this issue.
Rail Baltica continues in free drift
Rail Baltica is the most complex infrastructure project Latvia has ever undertaken. Therefore, it would be only natural for every step to be triple-checked and every invested million to be carefully evaluated. Unfortunately, it seems that project implementers—like the unforgettable Briškens—mainly rely on eloquent speeches. Meanwhile, the public wants answers.
For context, here is a post by Guntis Mačs on Facebook: “I couldn’t even imagine reading such idiocy. In wartime, 100 000 people a day?! To where? From where? What is this person smoking? In the event of war, this railway’s functionality would last exactly the time it takes for 3–4 drones or missiles to strike—assuming the Suwałki Gap is still open and there aren’t saboteurs willing to blow up tracks or a bridge. These are the ravings of madmen trying to secure money for a pointless project that isn’t even connected to the ports.”
And perhaps the project is best summed up in Andris Kulbergs’ words: “Rail Baltica continues to exist in a state of free drift. There is no clear responsibility, no direction, no coordination. Money is being spent, but opportunities are not being used. The project has no leadership. Every day of delay is costing us dearly.”