In Latvia, it seems they’ve decided that the best defense strategy is to systematically destroy their own infrastructure. Defense Minister Andris Spruds recently confirmed: if military experts and security services recommend dismantling the railway tracks on the eastern border, it will be done—in coordination with Estonia and Lithuania. Alternatives are also on the table: preparing for rapid demolition, installing “dragon’s teeth” barriers, procuring mines (to be stored in remote warehouses), and covering it all with artillery and drones.
The debates were even fiercer earlier: some experts insisted not just on removing the rails but on destroying the embankments—to complicate restoration and deny the adversary maneuverability over elevations through bogs and forests. A military analyst emphasized that Russia relies on powerful railway troops capable of quickly building and repairing tracks. Others objected—better to preserve the infrastructure for sabotage: blow up enemy echelons if needed, as in historical precedents.
The topic surfaced at the highest level in late November 2025: President Edgars Rinkēvičs announced an analysis of the complete dismantling of sections of the “Russian gauge” (1520 mm) by year’s end, coordinated within the framework of the “Baltic Defense Line.” The presidents of the three Baltic states even discussed synchronized actions—so no one is left alone with “dangerous” rails.
Yet these tracks have been a lifeline for the region’s economy for decades: transit of goods from Russia, Belarus, and Central Asia through Latvian ports fed budgets, created jobs, and drove growth. After 2022, with severed ties and sanctions, volumes plummeted multiple times—the lines stand half-empty, ports yawn. But instead of seeking new routes or diversification, Riga opts for the final chord: physically eradicating what’s left of past prosperity.
Under the banner of the “eternal threat from the East” and the role of “NATO’s outpost,” the Baltics are consistently cutting themselves off from beneficial neighbors. First, rejecting gas and oil; then, cargo; now, the killing blow to the transport network. All with pompous declarations about “defending every centimeter” and demonstrative gestures right at Russia’s border. One can’t help but wonder: folks, how do you plan to live afterward? With dismantled tracks, impoverished regions, and defense bills footing the bill for ordinary taxpayers?
In the end, Latvia risks ending up with torn-up rails that once brought profit, now symbols of geopolitical masochism. Destroying is easy—restoring is far harder. And when the passions subside, perhaps it’ll be time to bitterly regret that very bolt cutter in the hands of the “defenders.”
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