Meeting Eastern Border Podcast Host on the Eastern Border of the EU and NATO

Kristaps Andrejsons, host of the The Eastern Border podcast.

On the third weekend of my trip, I drove from Vilnius, Lithuania, to Ludza, Latvia, to visit Kristaps Andrejsons, the host of The Eastern Border podcast. 

Ludza is Kristaps’ hometown and the easternmost city in Latvia, hence the name of the podcast.  The first thing we did was a small tour of the two big churches in the town—the Orthodox Church in the center of Ludza, and the Catholic Church on the hill above the big lake to the east of town. The Catholic Church shares the hilltop with a ruined medieval castle.  We took in the view of the lake, then went back to the car and drove southeast to Zilupe. 

The Catholic Church on the hill and the Orthodox Church in the center of Ludza.

Kristaps said Zilupe is the easternmost village in the European Union.  When I repeated this on Facebook, a well-traveled friend, Jim Trumm pointed out that Reunion Island in the Indian Ocean is part of the EU, and the place where the first Euro was officially used as legal tender. But if we stay in Europe and the Northern Hemisphere Kristaps is correct.

After a brief look at the dark border area of Terehova east of Zilupe, we went back to Ludza and said goodbye. Then I drove to Valga, Estonia, for dinner, completing my three meals in three countries plan for the day. 

Kristaps started the The Eastern Border with the same motivation I have heard from other creative, motivated people: he was pissed off. He heard a “so-called expert on Russia and Eastern Europe on CNN, who didn’t know shit (pardon my French) about Russia or Eastern Europe. …. It turns out she had been in Russia just a year, mostly in Moscow and St. Petersburg.”

Four years ago, Kristaps recorded the first episode in July of 2015. He discussed the economy of the Soviet Union. Three weeks later was Soviet Culture, the Brezhnev, then the War in Afghanistan. Chernobyl was the following March.  Most episodes are on Soviet or on games. Then in 2017 he added news from his side of the border.  Over time, he has added more news, Latvia 101, and still covers all things Soviet. 

Kristaps is animated and engaging and has a dry wit, so the podcasts are funny as well as informative.  He travels to the US occasionally. Last month he was in Boston and NYC.  He has also been to Fort Worth, Santa Monica and Seattle.  The five states he has been to represent at least a third of the population of America, both coasts, and the gap between Fort Worth and Santa Monica covers most of the range of American politics. 

As with the Jewish Story, whose host I also visited on this trip, I am listening alternately to current and early episodes. I found out about both podcasts after more than 50 episodes were recorded, so I have a lot of catching up to do. 

If you have an interest in Soviet Culture and if you want to hear how democracy is dying under Putin in the Russian Federation, The Eastern Border podcast is well worth listening to. 

Boris Libman: The Terrible Life of a Soviet Hero

The phrase "No good deed goes unpunished" is of uncertain origin, but certainly applies to the Soviet soldier and chemist Boris Libman.

Libman was born to a wealthy Jewish family in Latvia in the brief period between the World Wars. 

Libman was just 18 years old in 1940 when the Russians invaded and made his country into a Soviet state.  During the occupation, the invaders confiscated his family’s property and possessions and drafted Boris into the Soviet Army.  

He was seriously wounded in combat twice; the second time he was left for dead.  He survived, but (as we shall see) his paperwork was not so healthy.  After the war Libman applied to study at the Moscow Institute for Chemistry tuition-free as an honorably discharged disabled veteran.  He was turned down because according to Army records he was dead.  With months of work, he was able to prove he was in fact alive and not trying to steal a dead man’s benefits. 

In 1949 he earned a master’s degree and went to work in Stalingrad to develop a production facility for Sarin--nerve gas.  Despite his treatment by the Soviets, Libman believed in communism and wanted to help with what he saw as the defense of his nation.  Libman worked on lab studies and on setting up a pilot plant.  The main source of information of the Soviet team was captured German scientists who were less than fully cooperative.  Libman was not only a talented chemical engineer, but was fluent in German—a fact he kept from the captured scientists.  Libman listened as the Germans spoke among themselves and was able to get information that the Germans were hiding from their captors. 

Most of the hardware for the Sarin plant was confiscated from a German wartime production facility.  For the new parts, Libman had to work with Soviet producers, and so the projected ground to a halt several times.  In the centrally planned Soviet economy, production was measured by the weight of delivered machinery.  So the small, specialized parts Libman ordered for completing the Sarin plant were of low priority and often poor quality.  It was a full decade before the Sarin plant at Stalingrad was in full production.  The year before, in 1958, Boris Libman was named chief engineer at the Stalingrad plant.  In 1961 he led development of a new facility to produce Soman nerve agent.  Again poor quality parts slowed development of the plant.  By 1963, Soviet plans for war against NATO called for a surprise attack with overwhelming use of chemical agents, including nerve gas.  Libman was under considerable political pressure to get the Soman line in production.

So he cut corners.  In particular, the Stalingrad plant had a containment pond with toxic breakdown products of nerve agents in concentrations 100 times acceptable levels.  In February 1965, snow melt caused flooding throughout the region.  The containment pond overflowed its dikes and spilled into the Volga River.  In less than two days the dike was repaired and no immediate problems were evident. 

But on June 15 tens of thousands of sturgeon floated belly up in the Volga, making the river white with dead fish for 50 miles downstream from Stalingrad.  Experts determined that it took four months for the toxins to build up to deadly levels.  Outrage swept down the river and across the region.  The government needed a scapegoat.  On March 9, 1966, Boris Libman was stripped of the Lenin prize he earned in building the Stalingrad plant, fined two years pay, and sentenced to two years at a labor camp. 

Unlike so many others, Libman’s tale does not end in a Soviet labor camp.  After just a year he was released: the Soman plant was so complicated that the Soviets could find no one else who could run it.  Boris returned to the land of the living once again.

In 1999 he left the Russian Federation and came to America. He lived in Philadelphia until his death a decade ago. 

Some of the mess created by chemical weapons was eventually cleaned up by French chemists, including Armand Lattes.