The call by Latvian Prime Minister Andris Kulbergs to stop issuing tourist visas to Russians returns the European Union to a question that already divided European governments in 2022: is it permissible to restrict the travel of citizens of a foreign state in response to the actions of its leadership? In an interview with the Financial Times, Kulbergs linked such a measure to countering hybrid threats that, according to him, the country faces daily. For now this is a political initiative, not a coordinated European decision, however part of the restrictions at the EU level is already in force: in November 2025 the European Commission limited the issuance of new multiple Schengen visas to Russians.
The history of the 20th–21st centuries shows that restrictions based on citizenship were introduced during diplomatic crises, under the pretext of fighting terrorism, in response to war or as a result of the cessation of consular work. However, behind their external similarity, the restrictions also have important differences. Refusal to issue new tourist visas, annulment of valid documents, a ban on entry and restriction of immigration are different instruments with different consequences. The proportionality of the measure to the declared goal thus becomes the central question in their assessment.
The European precedent
The closest historical context of the Latvian initiative lies within the European Union itself. On August 31, 2022, EU foreign ministers at an informal meeting in Prague agreed on the complete suspension of the agreement on facilitated visa issuance with Russia, but did not go for a broader ban. In September the EU Council formalized this decision. It made the processing of documents more complex and expensive: the visa fee rose from €35 to €80, and the standard review period from 10 to 15 days. But this did not mean a complete cessation of issuing Schengen visas to Russian citizens. A Europe-wide ban on tourist visas was proposed by Estonia, Latvia and Finland, while Germany and France were against it. On the eve of the meeting they prepared a joint document warning against a universal ban.
Poland, Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania went further. From September 19, 2022, they closed entry to Russians with short-term Schengen visas. In the joint statement of the prime ministers of September 8, it spoke of restricting travel for tourist, cultural, sports and business purposes; the measures also extended to visas issued by other Schengen states. The governments explained the decision by the Russian war against Ukraine, security threats and the increased flow of incoming Russian citizens.
It is important that the national measures were not absolute. The joint statement called them not a complete ban on entry and provided for exceptions, in particular for dissidents, humanitarian cases, family members and holders of residence permits. Consequently, even a fairly broad restriction did not eliminate the differences between tourism and, say, family circumstances.
On September 30, 2022, a similar tightening came into force in Finland. Helsinki relied not on a security threat, but on a threat to the country’s international relations, and, according to the explanation of the Finnish authorities, this ground of the Schengen Code had never before been applied to an entire nationality. The reasons cited included the mobilization announced in Russia and the expected increase in travel through Finland. The goal was to stop tourism and transit, but exceptions were retained: family, humanitarian and some other necessary trips, as well as holders of residence permits.
The European dispute, therefore, concerned not only whether to restrict travel. It touched on the choice between a common EU policy and national decisions, as well as the boundaries of exceptions. The current Latvian initiative proposes to again move this question from the national to the European level.
From 2022 to 2026
In November 2025 the European Commission limited the issuance of new multiple Schengen visas to Russians. The restrictions came into force on November 8, and exceptions were provided, in particular, for certain categories of relatives of Russians residing in the EU and for transport workers. In June 2026 the European Commission stated that it was not preparing a complete ban on tourist visas for Russians.
The positions of the countries remain different. According to FT data, France, Italy and Spain account for more than 70% of the more than 600,000 visas issued to Russians in 2025, and these countries were against the ban. German Chancellor Friedrich Merz said that EU leaders had discussed tightening visa policy and that the European Union has the ability to restrict both private and business travel of Russians. Russian Foreign Ministry spokesperson Maria Zakharova called such plans discrimination on national grounds.
Iran, 1980. Visas as a means of diplomatic pressure
One of the closest precedents in construction arose in the United States during the American hostage crisis in Iran. On April 7, 1980, President Jimmy Carter ordered that visas issued to Iranian citizens for future entry be declared invalid, that valid ones not be restored, and that new ones be issued only for convincing and proven humanitarian reasons. In Carter’s speech itself there was also mention of an exception for cases where US national interests require it. The decision accompanied the rupture of diplomatic relations with Tehran.
In this situation visa policy was used as part of pressure on a state. The criterion of restriction became citizenship, not the proven participation of a specific applicant in the hostage-taking. At the same time the annulment concerned visas for future entry and in itself did not mean the expulsion of Iranians already on American territory.
A separate conflict arose around the mandatory registration of Iranian students with the immigration service, introduced back in 1979. The norm was challenged in court by the Iranian students themselves (the case Narenji v. Civiletti) and the Confederation of Iranian Students; their lawsuits were combined. District Judge Joyce Hens Green initially declared the requirement unconstitutional, but later the decision was overturned by the appellate instance. The appellate court found the norm constitutional, indicating that it is rationally connected to the reaction to the hostage crisis.
This judicial history must be separated from the April annulment of visas. But both measures demonstrate a characteristic problem of crisis policy: the desire to exert pressure on a foreign government is accompanied by restricting the opportunities of people whose connection with it is determined primarily by their passport.
The American travel ban
Another model was represented by the restrictions of Donald Trump’s administration in 2017. The initial decree, signed a week after the inauguration (January 27), suspended for 90 days the entry of citizens of Iran, Iraq, Syria, Yemen, Somalia, Sudan and Libya. All seven states had a predominantly Muslim population. Certain provisions suspended the admission of refugees for 120 days, and for Syrian refugees — indefinitely.
After court proceedings the administration changed the rules several times. In the September version restrictions appeared for North Korea, Chad and individual Venezuelan officials and their relatives. The scope of the bans varied: citizenship determined the applicable regime, but not in all cases meant a ban on any travel.
The official justification was built on national security — the insufficiency of identity verification and information exchange on the part of the respective states. Critics, on the contrary, saw in the restrictions national and religious discrimination, pointed to the separation of families and obstacles to educational and professional travel; among the plaintiffs were the state of Hawaii, whose universities were affected by the ban, and citizens who had no opportunity to reunite with relatives.
On June 26, 2018, the US Supreme Court, by five votes to four, upheld the third version of the restrictions. The majority led by Chief Justice Roberts accepted the administration’s national security argument. Justice Sonia Sotomayor, in a dissenting opinion, considered that the Court “blindly” approved a discriminatory policy motivated by hostility toward Muslims, and that the formal justification does not eliminate this direction.
This example shows that a claim about national security can receive judicial support and at the same time remain the subject of a serious dispute about discrimination and consequences for private individuals.
France and the Sahel
In September 2023 France suspended the issuance of visas in Mali, Niger and Burkina Faso against the backdrop of a sharp deterioration in relations with the Sahel countries. Consulates in Ouagadougou, Bamako and Niamey stopped issuing visas; Paris cited the security situation, and Foreign Minister Catherine Colonna spoke of the reduced work of embassies. She emphasized that the suspension did not affect students and artists already in France.
This differed from a direct sanctions ban based on citizenship, but the official explanations were not uniform. According to retellings of Le Monde publications, students who received messages at the end of August about the cancellation of trips were told of the ongoing diplomatic crisis, while the Foreign Ministry cited the “security context” and the impossibility of normal operation of visa services.
The practical consequences affected students and cultural figures. A particularly sharp dispute was caused by the message that, at the request of the Foreign Ministry, the Ministry of Culture sent to regional directorates and subsidized institutions: it demanded the suspension of cooperation with these three countries and not sending new invitations to their citizens. It also said that visas were no longer issued to citizens of these countries, but that holders of previously issued visas were not affected by the restriction. Representatives of the cultural sphere spoke out against it.
After the scandal, Culture Minister Rima Abdul Malak stated that there was no boycott or reprisals, that visa services in these countries physically do not work, and that those who already have visas will be able to come to scheduled tours. President Macron called incorrect the claims that all events with artists from these countries would be cancelled.
Le Monde’s article at the time criticized such an approach as collective punishment of the population of African countries, which would not restore France’s lost trust. The French case shows why not only the legal formulation of a decision is important, but also its implementation. The suspension of consular processing, the restriction of new invitations and the ban on entry can be perceived as a single policy, although formally they are different actions. The uncertainty of the boundaries of the measure itself becomes a source of political conflict.
USA, 1924
A more distant example is the American Immigration Act of 1924. It closed the possibility of immigration for Japanese through the provision (Section 13(c)) on the non-admission of foreigners who, under the racial rules in force, could not obtain American citizenship. The law also consolidated the system of national quotas and the broad exclusion of people from Asia.
Comparing it directly with the restriction of tourist visas, of course, is not entirely correct. It was primarily about resettlement, and the legal mechanism relied on racial criteria for access to citizenship. Nevertheless, this case is important for the history of arguments against collective exclusion.
Japan protested officially: in a note of May 31, 1924, Ambassador Hanihara indicated that the admission of foreigners to the United States is determined not by individual qualities, but by belonging to a race, and that the new law destroys the “gentlemen’s agreement.” The ambassador also noted that Congress had not taken into account the recommendations of the president and the secretary of state.
Objections were also heard within the American administration. Secretary of State Hughes, in a note to President Coolidge, called the exclusionary provision completely unnecessary and suggested that the loss of Japan’s cooperation due to the cancellation of the “gentlemen’s agreement” would probably facilitate the clandestine entry of Japanese: the result would be not a reduction, but an increase in actual immigration.
This episode shows the persistence of the question itself: we see where the boundary passes between the state’s right to regulate entry and a policy that turns belonging to a particular national group into a sufficient ground for exclusion.
Historical experience shows that a visa has never been simply a technical entry document. In moments of crisis it turns into an instrument of pressure, sometimes soft, sometimes openly suffocating. This is precisely how it is now being attempted to be applied toward Russia. Not as a security measure with a proven connection between a specific applicant and a threat, but as a collective restriction based on a passport. The Baltic initiative, the French experience with the Sahel, the American travel bans and the annulment of Iranian visas in 1980 — all these are attempts different in scale but similar in logic to use the visa as a noose. Yes, states have the right to regulate entry, but where does regulation end and punishment of people for being born in a particular country begin? Today the visa has become not a pass, but a lever of political pressure.
