Élet és Irodalom, December 13, 2024
by László Benda
On the periphery of the Soviet Union, which disintegrated thirty-three years ago, centers of tension are multiplying. Sometimes in the form of a “special military operation” (in Ukraine), sometimes through a territorial war (the Azeri–Armenian conflict over Karabakh), or through the Russian security and even nuclear backing of a president notorious for rigging elections (see the Belarusian Lukashenka regime). The three Baltic states, now NATO and EU members, have broken away from the bosom of the Kremlin, which strives to restore the empire, yet they still feel constantly threatened. Several other “immediate neighbors” fear President Putin’s ambitions to protect Russian compatriots abroad.
In Georgia (or “Gruzia” in its “maiden name”), the climate of civil war has recently flared up. The parliamentary elections recently held in Moldova and Georgia were widely described as forcing both those who stayed at home and those living in the diaspora to decide whether to turn East or West. In Moldova, a country related to and bordering Romania, the pro-European forces narrowly prevailed — the votes of citizens living abroad tipped the balance.
Things turned out differently in Georgia, a country of similar population size (3.7 million) but bordering Russia. Let us not forget that there, long before the first Russian attack on Ukraine in 2014, the Putin-led “revisionist” territorial seizure had already begun in 2008. Significant parts of the small Caucasian republic, hidden between Europe and Asia — Abkhazia and South Ossetia — were torn away. Many believe that this lightning war was the Kremlin’s response to the 2003 “Rose Revolution,” which demanded democracy.
The Tbilisi government’s renewed anxieties are caused not only by Moscow’s constant muscle-flexing, but also by the appearance of masses fleeing into Georgia to escape Russian conscription following the 2022 aggression against Ukraine. Let us only hope that the Kremlin does not decide to “liberate” them as well!
It is well known that for over a decade, the political strings in Georgia have been pulled by Bidzina Ivanishvili, the richest Georgian, who studied in the Soviet Union, then made his fortune in Russia. The sixty-eight-year-old businessman, a former prime minister, founded (or perhaps owns outright) the currently ruling party, called Georgian Dream. The tycoon, who holds Georgian, Russian, and French citizenships, is estimated to have a fortune of 4.9 billion dollars. Ever since, he has been remotely controlling the country as his own private enterprise.
When Georgian Dream came to power in 2012, it initially appeared open to strengthening ties with Brussels. A decade ago, it signed an association agreement; eight years later, Tbilisi submitted its application for EU membership, and last December — like Ukraine and Moldova — it obtained candidate status under certain conditions. It is this process that has now stalled.
Even before the elections, Ivanishvili intensified his anti-Brussels rhetoric. He declared that the forces opposing “peace” were trying to drag Georgia into the war in Ukraine. His party pushed through parliament a Russian-style “foreign agents” law — targeting NGOs receiving Western support — and then a law curbing the rights of the LGBTQ community. Both provoked fierce protests.
The October 2024 elections, still disputed today, poured oil on the fire. Russian commentators immediately congratulated the pro-Kremlin governing party on its victory, expecting it to steer Georgia back toward Moscow. (Viktor Orbán — even before the final results were announced — was the first to hail the “sweeping victory” of his local allies.) According to independent election observers, however, the playing field was far from level, and they witnessed numerous abuses. Prime Minister Kobakhidze rejected allegations of vote rigging, though he added that “irregularities can occur in any country.” The United States and the EU demanded independent investigations. The European Parliament called for the vote to be repeated — all in vain.
Salome Zurabishvili, the president who had herself risen to power in 2018 “thanks to” Ivanishvili’s party, also turned sharply against the antidemocratic trend. The French-born woman, who had previously served as ambassador to Tbilisi before returning to Georgia, publicly sided with the anti-government demonstrators. She announced that she did not consider the ruling party that had stayed in power through fraud to be legitimate, and therefore would not accept the presidential election it called. (Her mandate expires on December 29, but according to the Georgian “nightmare,” her successor will be chosen by parliament — presumably the former Manchester footballer Mikheil Kavelashvili, who calls the opposition the West’s “fifth column.”)
The pro-European opposition forces did not enjoy the company of other post-Soviet republics approaching Brussels for long. From this circle, it was Georgia that now stepped back — perhaps according to Ivanishvili’s instructions — as its cabinet slid toward Moscow. The obedient Prime Minister Kobakhidze promptly met expectations by announcing that accession talks would be suspended until 2028. Henceforth, less attention would be paid to rule of law, political demands, and press freedom.
In Tbilisi, tens of thousands — by opposition estimates, up to two hundred thousand — demonstrators regularly protested against the “Russian-paid” government. Hundreds of protesters, waving Georgian and EU flags, were arrested. Water cannons were used to disperse the crowds.
And if Putin’s aim in Ukraine was to “denazify” and demilitarize the country to prevent its turn toward the West, why shouldn’t he help the Tbilisi regime rid itself of its pro-Brussels “liberal-fascist” opposition? (That is the very term recently used by Prime Minister Irakli Kobakhidze, who leads the purges.)
To this end, the Georgian leadership is taking “all necessary measures.” In the cities, pro-European opposition protests continue — and in response come bloody crackdowns and arrests. Several opposition leaders have been placed in pretrial detention. One of the leading figures of the anti-government demonstrations is accused of “vandalism and defying police orders.” Another was detained for insulting a pro-government politician, then beaten in custody. Others have been charged with “belonging to a criminal organization,” a crime punishable by up to nine years in prison.
It is hardly accidental that the leaders of Georgian Dream claim the protests are another attempt to ignite a (color) “revolution.” They fear that a victory of the NATO- and EU-oriented forces would only provide Moscow with an alibi to resume the warfare of 2008.
Meanwhile, Bidzina Ivanishvili — the man ruling the country from the shadows — oversees and monitors the still-tense situation from his luxury palace built atop a hill above Tbilisi, adorned with an art collection and a private zoo. He and his party can only hope that the security forces will prevail over the chaos and that the protests will begin to fade. One thing is certain: the gray eminence has enough backing, money, and influence to find an escape route — should Bashar al-Assad’s fate begin to haunt him.
by László Benda
On the periphery of the Soviet Union, which disintegrated thirty-three years ago, centers of tension are multiplying. Sometimes in the form of a “special military operation” (in Ukraine), sometimes through a territorial war (the Azeri–Armenian conflict over Karabakh), or through the Russian security and even nuclear backing of a president notorious for rigging elections (see the Belarusian Lukashenka regime). The three Baltic states, now NATO and EU members, have broken away from the bosom of the Kremlin, which strives to restore the empire, yet they still feel constantly threatened. Several other “immediate neighbors” fear President Putin’s ambitions to protect Russian compatriots abroad.
In Georgia (or “Gruzia” in its “maiden name”), the climate of civil war has recently flared up. The parliamentary elections recently held in Moldova and Georgia were widely described as forcing both those who stayed at home and those living in the diaspora to decide whether to turn East or West. In Moldova, a country related to and bordering Romania, the pro-European forces narrowly prevailed — the votes of citizens living abroad tipped the balance.
Things turned out differently in Georgia, a country of similar population size (3.7 million) but bordering Russia. Let us not forget that there, long before the first Russian attack on Ukraine in 2014, the Putin-led “revisionist” territorial seizure had already begun in 2008. Significant parts of the small Caucasian republic, hidden between Europe and Asia — Abkhazia and South Ossetia — were torn away. Many believe that this lightning war was the Kremlin’s response to the 2003 “Rose Revolution,” which demanded democracy.
The Tbilisi government’s renewed anxieties are caused not only by Moscow’s constant muscle-flexing, but also by the appearance of masses fleeing into Georgia to escape Russian conscription following the 2022 aggression against Ukraine. Let us only hope that the Kremlin does not decide to “liberate” them as well!
It is well known that for over a decade, the political strings in Georgia have been pulled by Bidzina Ivanishvili, the richest Georgian, who studied in the Soviet Union, then made his fortune in Russia. The sixty-eight-year-old businessman, a former prime minister, founded (or perhaps owns outright) the currently ruling party, called Georgian Dream. The tycoon, who holds Georgian, Russian, and French citizenships, is estimated to have a fortune of 4.9 billion dollars. Ever since, he has been remotely controlling the country as his own private enterprise.
When Georgian Dream came to power in 2012, it initially appeared open to strengthening ties with Brussels. A decade ago, it signed an association agreement; eight years later, Tbilisi submitted its application for EU membership, and last December — like Ukraine and Moldova — it obtained candidate status under certain conditions. It is this process that has now stalled.
Even before the elections, Ivanishvili intensified his anti-Brussels rhetoric. He declared that the forces opposing “peace” were trying to drag Georgia into the war in Ukraine. His party pushed through parliament a Russian-style “foreign agents” law — targeting NGOs receiving Western support — and then a law curbing the rights of the LGBTQ community. Both provoked fierce protests.
The October 2024 elections, still disputed today, poured oil on the fire. Russian commentators immediately congratulated the pro-Kremlin governing party on its victory, expecting it to steer Georgia back toward Moscow. (Viktor Orbán — even before the final results were announced — was the first to hail the “sweeping victory” of his local allies.) According to independent election observers, however, the playing field was far from level, and they witnessed numerous abuses. Prime Minister Kobakhidze rejected allegations of vote rigging, though he added that “irregularities can occur in any country.” The United States and the EU demanded independent investigations. The European Parliament called for the vote to be repeated — all in vain.
Salome Zurabishvili, the president who had herself risen to power in 2018 “thanks to” Ivanishvili’s party, also turned sharply against the antidemocratic trend. The French-born woman, who had previously served as ambassador to Tbilisi before returning to Georgia, publicly sided with the anti-government demonstrators. She announced that she did not consider the ruling party that had stayed in power through fraud to be legitimate, and therefore would not accept the presidential election it called. (Her mandate expires on December 29, but according to the Georgian “nightmare,” her successor will be chosen by parliament — presumably the former Manchester footballer Mikheil Kavelashvili, who calls the opposition the West’s “fifth column.”)
The pro-European opposition forces did not enjoy the company of other post-Soviet republics approaching Brussels for long. From this circle, it was Georgia that now stepped back — perhaps according to Ivanishvili’s instructions — as its cabinet slid toward Moscow. The obedient Prime Minister Kobakhidze promptly met expectations by announcing that accession talks would be suspended until 2028. Henceforth, less attention would be paid to rule of law, political demands, and press freedom.
In Tbilisi, tens of thousands — by opposition estimates, up to two hundred thousand — demonstrators regularly protested against the “Russian-paid” government. Hundreds of protesters, waving Georgian and EU flags, were arrested. Water cannons were used to disperse the crowds.
And if Putin’s aim in Ukraine was to “denazify” and demilitarize the country to prevent its turn toward the West, why shouldn’t he help the Tbilisi regime rid itself of its pro-Brussels “liberal-fascist” opposition? (That is the very term recently used by Prime Minister Irakli Kobakhidze, who leads the purges.)
To this end, the Georgian leadership is taking “all necessary measures.” In the cities, pro-European opposition protests continue — and in response come bloody crackdowns and arrests. Several opposition leaders have been placed in pretrial detention. One of the leading figures of the anti-government demonstrations is accused of “vandalism and defying police orders.” Another was detained for insulting a pro-government politician, then beaten in custody. Others have been charged with “belonging to a criminal organization,” a crime punishable by up to nine years in prison.
It is hardly accidental that the leaders of Georgian Dream claim the protests are another attempt to ignite a (color) “revolution.” They fear that a victory of the NATO- and EU-oriented forces would only provide Moscow with an alibi to resume the warfare of 2008.
Meanwhile, Bidzina Ivanishvili — the man ruling the country from the shadows — oversees and monitors the still-tense situation from his luxury palace built atop a hill above Tbilisi, adorned with an art collection and a private zoo. He and his party can only hope that the security forces will prevail over the chaos and that the protests will begin to fade. One thing is certain: the gray eminence has enough backing, money, and influence to find an escape route — should Bashar al-Assad’s fate begin to haunt him.
