Georgia is in turmoil. Hundreds of people were injured in protests earlier this week in Tbilisi, and the parliamentary speaker was forced to resign. A veritable political crisis might be looming, says Christian Trippe.
In recent years, Georgia's parliament in the capital, Tbilisi, has found itself at the center of numerous momentous political events. In 2003, weeks of protests culminated here in the ouster of President Eduard Shevardnadze, in what became known as the Rose Revolution.
More than a decade earlier, in 1991, the storming of parliament precipitated the Georgian Civil War, which led to the regions of South Ossetia and Abkhazia splitting off from Georgia. Today, both are officially republics, yet depend heavily on Russian economic and military support to survive.
A giant memorial stone in front of parliament commemorates the 21 Georgian nationals who died on April 9, 1989, when Soviet troops brutally suppressed a Georgian pro-independence rally.
As such, Georgia's parliament is steeped in history and replete with political symbolism.
So the decision to allow Russian lawmaker Sergei Gavrilov to speak to the assembly of legislators from Orthodox Christian countries in this very parliament on Thursday could only backfire. Gavrilov, after all, is a member of the communist party and an apologist for Russian geopolitical expansionism.
Gavrilov, who was born in Russia's Central Federal District, considers Georgia his "homeland." This, too, has been seen by many Georgians as a provocation. And when he took the seat of Georgia's parliamentary speaker, thousands of Georgians took to the streets to vent their anger.
Georgians are a passionate people when it comes to politics, even though the country's major parties hardly differ in their economic and social positions. What does set them apart, however, is their stance on Russia. Some suggest talking to their vast northern neighbor, even though Russia occupies South Ossetia and Abkhazia, and thus a fifth of Georgia's total territory. Yet others say refusing to communicate is the best solution. And some advocate proactively seeking closer ties with the European Union and NATO.
Georgia's influential Orthodox Church, meanwhile, has for a long time been uncomfortable with the country's pro-Western orientation. It regards the West as decadent. And Russia's powerful Orthodox Church, which finds Western liberalism similarly off-putting, has been backing its Georgian peers. Indeed, Russia has for a long time deployed its state-funded media and cultural organizations to influence former Soviet republics — and Russia's Orthodox Church has been happy to play its part.
Cultural clout as political influence
The powerful elite surrounding Russian President Vladimir Putin has an imperial mindset. To them, gaining cultural influence in former Soviet republics and satellite states is not an end in itself. Instead, this elite, which thinks in broad geopolitical terms, is eager to transform this cultural clout into political gains. This imperial mindset has pro-Western Georgians who distrust their current government worried.
Georgia is a tiny, pro-Western island in the Caucasus. To the north it's boxed in by Russia; Armenia, which is dependent on Russia, lies to its south; and an increasingly pro-Russian and anti-American Turkey is to the southwest. The domestic instability in Georgia reflects the wider geopolitical power struggle in the region, with the protests in Tbilisi caught up in the slipstream of the escalating tensions between the US and Iran in the Gulf.
Georgian villages five years after the war
The conflict between Georgia and Russia in 2008 left traces that are still impossible to erase. Life in the north of Georgia remains precarious due to Russian border fortifications where soldiers are still stationed.
Image: DW/A. Oganjanyan
Barbed wire on the border
There is still barbed wire as far as the eye can see on the Russian-proclaimed border to South Ossetia. This wall goes right through the village of Didi Hurvaleti, in the Gori district. Initially the village belonged completely to Georgia. Last year, Russian border troops erected a barbed-wire fence right through the settlement.
Image: DW/A. Oganjanyan
Valya Vanishvili
Valya Vanishvili now lives on the "Russian" side. One day this Georgian retiree was cut off from her neighbors in her village Didi Hurvaleti. She doesn’t dare to move back to the Georgian side. But she can’t buy food from the supermarket, because Georgian Lari aren’t accepted on the Russian side. To get by, she has friends from the Georgian side sneak food over the border.
Image: DW/A. Oganjanyan
Unknowing trespassers
Here we see a cow that has wandered across the border to the Russian side, where soldiers inspect anyone looking to cross. It can be difficult for Georgian farmers to get their animals back, because each act of trespassing can lead to arrest and a fine. This year alone, some 100 people have been arrested.
Image: DW/A. Oganjanyan
The green fence
Near the village of Dizi in the Gori district a fence has been erected that is over four kilometers (2.5 miles) long. And it continues to get longer. The government in Tbilisi rejects the new border, which at times can extend up to 300 meters beyond South Ossetia. This is where the "Republic of Ossetia" begins - a breakaway region recognized by Russia, but not by the international community.
Image: DW/A. Oganjanyan
Georgian border controls
In principle, anyone is allowed to view the demarcation of Georgia's so-called "administrative border." One must simply inform the Georgian interior ministry beforehand. Also, all visitors to the border must be accompanied by a local police officer.
Image: DW/A. Oganjanyan
Gori
The city of Gori is located around 30 kilometers from the administrative border, away from the barbed wire. Gori was badly damaged in the 2008 war, but the city has now been rebuilt and attracts many tourists.
Image: DW/A. Oganjanyan
Shavshvebi refugee settlement
Along the road between Gori and Tbilisi there are houses with red and blue roofs. These are the settlements for the people displaced during the war. One of them is Shavshvebi, home to 560 displaced people who were forced from their villages. Nearly 25,000 people fled their homes during the conflict. More than half remain displaced.
Image: DW/A. Oganjanyan
Galina Kelechsayeva wants to return home
Galina Kelechsayeva lives in Shavshvebi. She was forced to leave her village of Didi Liachvi. But she refuses to give up hope: "I am confident that we will return home someday. We've all lost something, but we're still alive.
Image: DW/A. Oganjanyan
Supermarket on wheels
Manana Betshetshiladse (left) has been paying regular visits to Shavshvebi with her "mobile supermarket" for years. She's on a first name basis with several of her customers. One of them is Sidonia Gotshashvili, who lives alone. Her home village of Chejti was burned to the ground after the war. Her son was taken captive and abused by the Russians. He died later in a car accident.
Image: DW/A. Oganjanyan
Refugee for 22 years
Nasi Beruashvili is from Tskhinvali, capital of South Ossetia. During the first Georgian-Ossetian conflict in the 1990s she was forced to flee to the village of Eredvi, where she stayed until 2008. Then she was forced out again, this time to Shavshvebi. After 22 years of displacement, she has given up hope of ever returning to her original home.
