“No Russia Law,” and other stories between Mother Georgia and the Caucasus, Tbilibi and Armenia
News about clashes between protestors and cops in Georgia was all over the news on the way back from Hamburg in March, 2023. What's going on, I ask my friend Nichlas, from Tbilisi, the capital. A party close to the ruling party, the People’s Party, introduced this Russian Law eroding civil society and freedom of the press. Now it's being debates in Parliament, Nicholas replies, sending me an invite to a demo:
"[T]he Georgian government approved the Russian law ‘On Agents of Foreign Influence.’ The leading party used tear gas, pepper spray, and water cannons to raid the participants of the peaceful protest. We, Georgian emigrants in Germany, join the protest held in Tbilisi and refuse Russian law. Protest time: 8 of March 17:00, Protest location: Bundeskanzleramt, Heinrich-von-Gagern-Straße, Protestzeit: 17:00, Protestort: Bundeskanzleramt, Heinrich-von-Gagern-Straße.”
“It’ll be big,” says Nicholas.
Back from Hamburg, I bike past the Reichstag to join the Georgian protesters, standing with flags from Georgia and Ukraine, many held by Berliners condemning the ‘Russia Law,’ sharing solidarity. Georgian activists are speaking out about the law. “It negates free speech,” says one man with a megaphone. “It happened in Russian. Now they don’t have free speech.”
Why does Russia turn to initiatives, such as the “foreign agent” law? Fischer writes: “The Russian autocracy has long employed legal instruments to successively restrict political liberties and participation. Over the course of a decade parliament and state have created a comprehensive body of repressive legislation. This includes the “foreign agent” law, legislation restricting freedom of information and assembly, and curbs on “extremist” and “undesirable” organizations.” What is the impact on such initiatives? To what extent do such initiatives curtail the work of efforts to curtail poverty, and social movements. Such laws chill movements. This was the case in Russia. “The capacity for self-organization has hit rock bottom,” says Fischer. “There is therefore little prospect of Russian society playing a constructive role in a process of political transformation – less even than in the latter-day Soviet Union.” Seeing this, many in Georgia fought hard against Russian influenced encroachments on their democracy. This may be why tens of thousands have shown up for recent protests, particularly those opposed to the foreign agent law proposed in Georgia, by their pro Russia leadership. The problem for this leadership, of course, is that 87% of Georgians, a majority of the population, are pro European Union, in favor of their country joining, says M, one of my classmates at Freie Universitat. She explains. “The protests in Georgia were lyrical with kids dancing in the streets, wearing Adidas gear in the face of teargas.”
“Protesters rave to sound of riot police meant to disperse them,” says @VoiceWorldNews. “Riot police blasted a piercing sound to try and disperse protesters. But instead they started dancing.” Further, while Russian’s encroachment into Georgia may be slowing her entry into NATO, it is not slowing the process of joining the EU. As of now, Georgia has received a twelve page questionnaire on its entry into the EU. Yes, the movement West is anything but assured.
“Don’t eat yellow snow,” says Nicholas at the demo, referring to the old Frank Zappa song about a man who has a dream he’s become an Eskimo. He tells his mother. "Watch out where the huskies go,” she says to him, with a word of caution. “Don't you eat that yellow snow." Stay clear of danger, in this case, Russia.
“Yesterday was a dark day for Georgia,” says another speaker. “It's Women’s Day. These laws don’t help women. They put us in danger. If you care about Georgia women, then stand with us. Yesterday, a hundred thousand people marched. A woman stood in front of a water cannon, holding on as long as they could. This is the story. We will not let go. Happy Women’s Day.”
Nicholas saw his brother being tear gassed on TV.
“Russian law is not the will of the Georgian people,” says another speaker. “It's great to see you out here protesting. Today, we will bring down the cancer of the world, the Russian dictatorship.”
As we we’re speaking in Berlin, Georgians were blocking the entrances to parliament in Tbilisi, chanting, “No to Russia Law.”
By the third day of protests, Georgia had dropped the “Russia Law.”
Nicholas and I kept the conversation going over the next few months, chatting about Georgia and its complicated history, shaped by its history and geography, borders with Armenia and Turkey to the south, Azerbaijan in the southeast and Russia to the north. By May, I decided to go see for myself. My brother, who’d journeyed with me through Prague, Poland, Germany, and the Balkans, would meet me there.
On the way to Tbilisi, I talked with a young woman who told me about her birthday party. She was on the way to a bar with friends in March when they heard about protests at the Parliament over the “Russian Law”. The group abruptly changed plans, getting to the Parliament as fast as they could. They were joined by some 50,000 others. As they arrived, the police were firing teargas, arresting those in front.
“Were you afraid or angry,” I asked.
“Both, but I saw everyone staying together. And we pushed forward. We will do whatever we need to do. Normal protest doesn’t work. We will do anything.”
Nicholas’s brother Gega told a similar story about the teargas that day in March. “I thought I was going to die, there was so much teargas.”
He’d heard about manifestations earlier in the day, bringing his crew of ski instructors down from the mountains to take part.
For three days they protested, pushing the government to throw out the proposed law that would have drawn them further into Russian control. It's a push and pull, dating back centuries, East vs West, Europe vs Russia, autonomy vs control. Its anything but new.
"What do we have to offer to the cultural treasure of the European nations?” said Noe Zardania, head of the government of the Democratic Republic of Russia, shortly before the Soviets rolled into Georgia in 1921. “The two thousand year old national culture, democratic system and national wealth. Soviet Russia offered us military alliance, which we rejected. We have taken different paths. They are heading to the East and we for the West.... We would like to yell at the Bolsheviks: Turn to the West to make a contemporary European nation…”
All the way to Tbilisi, I thought about that day in March, when Nicholas invited me to the protest in Berlin. That was the moment I knew I needed to come to Georgia.
Will was excited to go. He might not get another chance to go to Georgia, he thought, worried the Special Operation in Ukraine might move to Georgia.
“Georgia is an ancient culture, with seven thousand years of history, eight thousand years of wine making,” says Nicholas, preparing me for the trip, suggesting I drink a lot of the Georgian wine, as we sit chatting at Schokoladen, a dingy spot on Ackerstass, in Berlin.. “Unique wine made in clay jars.”
“What are faux pas to avoid?”
“Don’t say anything good about the Russians. Enjoy some Chacha and rolls, chakapuli and chicken soup. You’ll feel the Asian, Russian, and European influence in Tbilisi. The Georgians who came back after the war who had seen Europe spent ten years in Siberia. My grandparents met there.” Nicholas paused. “Russians don’t say we were wrong for killing Ukranians. Before the 18th century, we had no connection with Russia. We had a problem with the Persian and Ottoman Empires. Russia said they’d help in 1897. We’ve had three Empires, Ottoman, Persian, and Russian, that have intervaded. Before that the Greeks, Rome, and before that the Mongol conquests. Despite all this, we managed to create something.” The good people of Georgia have been fighting civil wars, struggling for independence for a long time now.
Traveling via Marseilles and then Munich, there's far more security than usual, lots of lines and hold ups, a blond woman barking orders. Several folks in wheelchairs or with injuries in line.
After our third or fourth passport check and interview, we board. Up in the air, into the night, into dreams. Our plane arrives at five AM, Will got there a little earlier, waiting to greet me just as the sun was rising. He finds us a cab ride to the old town, where we are staying at the Rasta Maiden Hotel by the baths. Off to sleep a bit before making our way out to see the city.
An overcast day, we walk past the Synagogue on Kote Abkhazi Street and the baths. According to legend the city was founded around the silver bath. There “hot springs that run beneath the earth and even inspired the name – Tbilisi [or] ‘warm place’... King Vakhtang Gorgasali happened upon the hot sulfurous waters while out hunting with his falcon.”
Walking through the city, graffiti on the wall, massages are a plenty, “Russia is a terrorist country,” say some; “fuck Russia,” others. You see this a lot in Tbilisi, images of the Georgian flag with the EU flag and Ukraine, and a simple message for the Northern neighbors, over and over again, “Screw Russia. Georgia is always in the fights,” says our waiter. The fight goes on and on, always teargas, always a riot. Georgia has been in the middle of the fights for a long time, our waiter continues, serving us Georgian dumplings, khinkali.
Finishing our delicious first meal, we amble up to the Mother Georgia statue, overlooking the city. With a wine in one hand, a sword in the other, Elguja Amashukeli’s aluminum statue “symbolizes the Georgian national character: in her left hand she holds a bowl of wine to greet those who come as friends, and in her right hand is a sword for those who come as enemies as expression of the history of our city of Tbilisi, the endless battles with the enemies and the welcoming of friendly visitors…”
The push and pull, welcoming and fighting back, becomes a story of our time there. Past the new trolly, we wind our way past cafes and bookstores, old crumbling buildings, like Prague 1989. We stumble upon a local deli, where they are drinking ChaCha and beer.
“Join us,” say a young couple, sitting outside, enjoying themselves. “You have to have the chacha.” Sure, no problem. The amiable owner brings us beer, chacha, and sausage. And our sunny evening begins. Always find some locals to drink and eat with, says Tony B, his prophetic traveling voice, lingering in my mind.
Nicholas’ brother Gega meets Will and I in Natakhtari, for a few pints outside. His family has been in Tbilisi for generations. He offers us a primer on the recent conflict, beginning with the Civil War here in Georgia 1991, with rival factions, ethnic separatist groups, vying for power, including the first president, former Gorbachev era Minister of Foreign Affairs, President Eduard Shevardnadze. He ushered in brutal years of privatization, before the Rose Revolution of 2003, when protesters, supporting opposition Mikheil Saakashvili stormed parliament carrying roses, in a bountiful gesture of nonviolent civil disobedience, disrupting parliament. Never static, revolution was followed by the 2008 invasion. Back and forth, the darker history of the city, of Stalin, casts a long shadow. “My grandfather hates him,” says Gega. “In the 1937 purge, half the town was sent to Siberia, the artists, writers.” According to Radio Free Europe, “Josef Stalin's Great Terror left around 700,000 people dead and millions displaced, orphaned, or crippled.”
“Others liked him,” says Gega. Stalin's cult of personality seemed to grow over time. “They had pro Stalin freedom rallies. They liked his power of the Soviet era, yet they could not shop; there were no jobs.” The pros and cons were many. Tbilisi witnessed a series of pro Stalin rallies in response to Kruschev’s 1956 program of De Stalinization, ending the purges. The Tbilisi Riots continue to be a source of controversy. Support would not last in the subsequent years.
After years of protests against the USSR, Georgia was quick to succeed, as the USSR crumbled. “In December 1991, the central streets of Tbilisi boomed with artillery and gunfire in one of the most destructive chapters of the Georgian Civil War,” says Radio Free Europe. “The Tbilisi war was a short, fiery conflict that began in the center of the Georgian capital on December 22, 1991. Fighting erupted when a collection of rebel groups banded together to overthrow Georgian President Zviad Gamsakhurdia just months after he was voted into power.”
The subsequent years were anything but peaceful, witnessing invitations, civil wars, and instability, “[A] riot broke out (on March 27, 2006, when),” according to Radio Free Europe, “Georgian police used force to suppress a prison riot that purportedly aimed at aiding the escape of thousands of inmates.”
In 2023, Gega and the other ski instructors heard about protests in March of 2023. They left their work, and went to Tbilisi, witnessing a riot unfolding. “They told police to beat us…” he tells Will and I. “They left for parliament. They came to us with tear gas,” says Gega. “I thought I was dying. They dropped like five bombs next to me... Tear gas by police to me, rubber bullets, I thought I was going to die. You can't breathe and can't see anything.”
It was Gega’s first protest. “We had a little war. We had to continue the protests. And will continue them until the next govt.” One demo after another, protests for Ukraine, the Rose Revolution, and March 2023. “Probably 50,000 not less in the protests. All my friends teargassed. By the third day of riots, they pull the bill. I'm sure Russia wants to come back.”
Finishing our conversation, we stroll to a festive bar full of people, to watch Manchester City vs Real Madrid. And the stories about the protests continue.
Salome Barker Nikoleishvili recalled seeing Zaza Bighiashvili attacked by the police. “Zaza completely lost sight in one eye during the 7-9 March protests. On Chitadze Street, five gas balloons shot by special forces probably hit the head. They spent three hours of surgery and finally doctors said they could not retain vision in the completely dilated eye.”
The resentment of the Russians dates back ages, even centuries. We’ll spend the next few days trying to understand it.
Thursday, it's crisp and a little drizzly for our tour through the city, with revolutions, invasions, and insurrections a part of every generation. Meeting at Freedom Square, at the end of Rustaveli Avenue, George, our guide shares stories about the city and its complex history, its architecture, and memories of the Soviet occupation. We ask if he was part of the protests in March or if he saw the teargas. “I got a taste of it,” he tells us. “That was really alarming what our government did. They want more instruments to fight off the influence of the West, more ways to trace foreign influence. They want all funding to be from Ivanishvili, the oligarch with close ties to Russia. March 7th, the protest starts. People gathered by Parliament, as they were planning to pass the law. The police start attacking. The second night, thousands came out. Afraid they had another Rose Revolution on their hands, the government compromised. First, really good achievements, modernization followed. Then it became oppressive. In 2007, police beat the protesters and they changed the constitution. The next year, Russia invaded. We lost territory and could not find justice.” (Since then, Russia has occupied South Ossetia, Abkhazia, and waters along the Black Sea).
President Saakashvili described the scene after invasion of August 2008:
The US was in the middle of a presidential election, with little interest in foreign interventions after the disastrous foray into Iraq. “[R]ealize what we are heading toward now. Russians have been very brutal, very deliberate, and they been showing everybody, ‘We don’t give a damn,’” said Saakashvili. “Everything the Americans had achieved from the Cold War is being undermined and destroyed right now… America is losing the whole region.’ This is for President Bush,’ ‘this is for the United States,’ ‘this is for NATO,’ say the Russian bombs falling. They are by proxy trying to fight war with the West.” Saakashvili was probably right. The next administration did very little to contain the situation.
“By 2011, the oligarchs won. It was all old money from Russia. Protests against the Georgia Dream Party follow. The struggles have been long,” says George, in a major under estimation. “In 1921, the Red Army invaded. Before their revolution, there was no freedom of the press in Russia. This secret press distributed information about the movements, their shining star for a bright future, five angles to five settled continents. My parents stopped believing pretty quickly.”
Each day we get a different version of Georgia history. “Georgia is three thousand years old, with a ruling family there for a thousand of it,” says George. “In between, it was conquered by the Mongols, Ottomans, Persians, and Russians in 1801. Fighting the Ottomans, Russia was their chance. It was thought to bring some peace, as a mother for Georgia, another orphan. But Russia is more like a dysfunctional stepmother,” says George, with a smile. “In World War I, we had the support of Germany. They lost and we lost our ally. 1917, the three republicans from the Caucasus, Georgia, Armenia, and Azerbaijan became independent. 26 May 1918 became our independence day. We had a constitution and women’s rights till 1921. Then the Red Army rolled in. Lenin had signed a treaty saying, no invasion of Georgia. But most agreements with the Russians are out of date once the ink dries,” says George. “We had a government in exile thinking, I can't believe Russia did this to me. I can't believe Lenin would do this to me.”
George walks us through the offices of an underground printing press, where Communists made pamphlets and newspapers before the revolution. People could only get to it by climbing down a well. From there, they produced pamphlets, with lookouts upstairs. Russians eventually found the printing press. And they blew it up, only hastening the personality cult that had been growing around Stalin. After the Revolution he’d stray from his adolescent interest in poetry toward consolidating power and purging opponents, washing them from history. We talk about Trotsky’s fate in Mexico. First Lenin,and then Stalin, who would last till 1953. After he died, Beria took over, albeit briefly. Khruschev’s coup, with aid from former Marshal of the Soviet Union Georgy Zhukov, ended his run in June 1953. There was no love lost between Stalin and Khruschev, whose brother Stalin had sent to the Gulag. “Read, Young Stalin, if you want to get a clearer picture of this era, of Stalin’s poetry etc,” says George, standing looking at various photos of him.
“Like the Soviets, now rusted over. Doesn’t work,” says George, viewing the old printing press. “It's like a good symbol for the communists - rusty and doesn’t work. In 1991, we broke off and became independent. By the end of the year, we were in a civil war. Georgia had tried to get out earlier, with peaceful protests in April 1989. The Russians killed the peaceful protesters, young women and men, some 21 in total. And the communists lost their grip. The country was in chaos until 1993, with wars in breakout regions Abkhazia, including ethnic cleansing, no support from Moscow, on electricity. This is why our government is now fearful of protests, fearful of the civil war repeating itself. It's easier to catch a fish in muddy water.” No crisis goes unused. Shevardnadze, who was friends with President Bush, rose to power. Before he became president, he was an atheist. Then, after the Soviet years, he declared himself orthodox. He knew how global politics works. He lost a war in a break away region of Abkhazia. But, could not lose a Civil War. He called in the KGB to get help. The Russian Army came. The opposition surrendered. Russia finally took them in the 2008 war.
“The transition from the Soviet period with no political life, to civil war, was horrible,” says George. “My dad was in the Soviet Army in the 1970’s. Even they could not imagine the repression of the Stalin era,” he explained. One man was sent to the Gulag for wrapping potatoes in a newspaper with Stalin’s image on it. Every newspaper had pictures of Stalin on it. He spent years in jail for that. There were so many purges through the years. Killing journalists, he was brutal. He thought it was necessary. If you justify Stalin, you justify Putin,” George concludes. “But Stalin thought it was necessary to win. He created myths. Many here still think World War II started in 1941, after the Soviet German non aggression pact fell apart. It was only the Soviet Union that won WWII by itself. Hitler sees the failed Finland invasion of 1939 as a sign of weakness. That they are losers. So they invade Russia. Twenty million Russians died. That was a huge price. And the purges continue. It doesn’t disappear. It's not forgotten.” George pauses. “My grandfather feared the surveillance. But by the 1970’s, it had faded.”
Standing talking, an elder man walks in in a black suit, with old Soviet pins on his jacket. George tells us he’s an old KGB officer. He’d been watching a TV show about the cold war with a few of the other old timers, cheering the part of the show when they killed US soldiers, harkenning to a bygone, or maybe not so bygone era. George introduces us and we start talking about our countries.
“Americans are smart but they elect very stupid people,” he tells us, George translating. “It's better with peace and friendship.”
“If Russia likes peace so much, why the war with Ukraine?” asks Will.
“They were Nazis, killing us,” he tells us, still the party line.
“How did you get involved?”
“They noticed me decades ago,” in 1970, when he was in the Army. He was in training till 1977. And remained in the KGB for the next 15 years, as the Soviet Union crumbled. “And we lost everything.” His favorite Soviet era leader was Lenin. I ask about Trotsky and Gorbachev. They were secret service, he says, “spies.” Under Brezhnev “all were fed,” prices were low for food. Tito was “good to his people.” Shevardnadze was “CIA,” he tells me, replying to my questions about heroes and villains of the era. And while he’s at it, he reminds us, the US had its own brand of apartheid.
“Can’t disagree with that,” we reply.
“Thank you for agreeing with me,” he says.
“So, what happened if it was so good,” asks Will.
“Why were the East Berliners leaving for the West by the day?” I ask. “Why’d you need a wall?”
“The problem was that after the death of Stalin, the party let in the nobility,” he says, referring to Marx’s critique of the Petit Bourgeoisie in the Communist Manifesto, exerting undue pressure on the proletariat.
“What about American writers?” I ask. “Do you like any?”
“John Steinbech and Jack London,” he says, referring to his writings on poverty, socialism and the labor movement.
“We love the Russian novelists, Dostoyevski, Tolstoy, Gogol and Bulgakov, and of course,” I pause. “Alexander Solzhenitsyn.”
“A traitor,” he says, referring to the author who challenged the big lie like no one else:
“Violence can only be concealed by a lie, and the lie can only be maintained by violence.”
I’m starting to feel a twinge or irritation, or even nationalism, old Cold War conflicts running through my head. We thank everyone and make our way out, with a handshake.
“You are welcome any time,” he says, saying goodbye.
“You can’t critique US apartheid, if you are running a gulag,” says George, once we are back in the car, passing more of the ubiquitous, “Russia is a terrorist state,” graffiti. We drive by George Bush Street, named for the president who recognized and supported Georgian independence on December 25th, 1991, working with his old friend Eduard Shevardnadze, diplomatic relations the following March. The problem was the transition was terrible. “Privatization was a private grab,” says George. “People were starving, alcoholism was rampant. ‘Remember the 1990’s’ became a rallying cry.”
On the road, we pass by a statue of Rustaveli, the national poet of Georgia, “one of the most prominent Georgian historical figures,” says George, “ a true genius.”
“That’s Shota Rustaveli,” says George. "[M]anifest of living with joy" Rustaveli’s “The Knight in the Panther's Skin” is an epic story of friendship, equality and altruism. Individual happiness depends on that of others, says George; that was his message, love and friendship. Umberto Eco wrote about him, says George with pride.
On we drive to Chronicles of Georgia, a Soviet era monument to three thousand years of Georgian statehood, two thousand years of Christianity, often compared to Stonehenge. George walks us through the monument, telling us about the figures on the various 16 pillars, Christian tales on the bottom half of each, heroes on the top, including Tamar, the progressive queen, who reigned from 1184 to 1213, abolishing the death penalty, and Nino, the patrol saint. Each pillar represents a different story of the history of the country. “So many things happened since the Romans, so many invasions. It makes you curious. You don’t feel small walking through this,” says George, walking us through.
Our next stop is the abandoned archaeology museum of Tbilisi, now being taken over by nature. “It's like a spaceship,” says George, walking up the hill to the site. Weeds and trees make their ways up between the cracks, flowers growing, retaking the space. “It would be a great site for a gallery or a rave.”
Next stop, the Ministry of Transportation highway and crossroads, a Soviet era building built into a hill, in harmony with nature.
Throughout the afternoon, George shows us experiments in Soviet architecture, chatting about Tbilisi, its ambivalent history with the communists, and the hatred that still burns. George tells me about the writer Givi Margvelashvili, a Georgian writer born in Berlin, who found a voice here after WWII. He “had to outlive both dictatorial regimes – Fascism and Communism.” Says Margvelashvili: “Hitler with his views was a strange phenomenon for Germany. This was not a natural occurrence. What was the reason this man and his movement started there? The reason was the Soviet Union. The revolution was coming to Germany and at that time there were many Germans who wanted to protect themselves from communism. Hitler entered … as an outspoken nationalist… Many Germans were looking for salvation in him, but they were mistaken. ……The Soviet Union did not fall from the sky. It was based on a European way of thinking, on the theory of revolution. Its author, [Karl] Marx, was undoubtedly a great thinker but his theory is nevertheless untrue. History can really change only by evolution and not by revolution.”
Thousands of years of history, we talk through as much as we can. George reviews what we saw, what we discussed, from Tamar and the golden era from the 10th to the 12th centuries, to the Mongol invasions, splits between East and West, Persian and Ottoman wars, invasions, a 1783 agreement with Russia , as a protectorate, they are still not quite free of today, with rebellions in the 1820’s, on and on, Tbilisi modernizing, building bridges. We pass more graffiti. “Northerners you are not at home here,” it declares, referring to the Russian neighbors.
Finishing our day together, George drops us off at the National Gallery Tbilisi. After all the talk of Stalin and the Soviets, the collected works of Niko Pirosmanashvili, Georgia's fabled painter and contemporaries, is a sort of reprieve. It's only been two days, but our heads are spinning. Nothing a little Georgian red wine, a traditional meal and chacha can’t take care of. Next day we are back on the road, off Armenia.
An Armenian Journey
Before our trip to Armenia, Nicholas suggested I watch The Color of Pomegranates, a 1969 film about poet Sayat-Nova, told through both director Sergei Parajanov's surrealist vision and Sayat Nova's poems. Picture after picture flash across the screen, images of resilience and adaptation, an Armenian culture contending with wave after wave of genocide and oppression, as well as an abundant creativity. A break with Soviet realism, the film traces shadows of forgotten ancestors and faiths, stories subverting Soviet orthodoxies. Inevitably, Parajanov, who was queer, was arrested and imprisoned not long after the film came out. Luminary film makers Pier Paolo Pasolini and Jean-Luc Godard called for his release, as well as an end to culture policing. He would spend the next four years in labor camps, another nine months in jail in Tbilisi. He died in 1990. When the Soviet Union broke up, Armenia, Azerbaijan and Georgia became independent, with the fighting only intensifying.
I was there, to learn more about what happened. And where it leads. Controversy continues to surround the complicated history of the Armenian Genocide of 1915 and its legacy. Turkey doesn’t acknowledge it, saying war is always awful. For others, the systematic elimination of members of one ethnic group during a conflict is very definition of a genocide. And this is what happened in 1915 during World War I, when some 1.5 million Armenians were rounded up for deportation and killed by Ottoman Turks. Though “denounced as a crime against humanity,” Turkish school kids are still not taught about it.
“They always say that Armenians was a problem during WWI (riots, protests etc),” says H, a Turk, living and studying in Berlin. “The government used this resistance as evidence of widespread rebellion. So, they started a mass deportation for Armenians. however the conditions were horrible, most of the armenians died during ‘deportation’… they don’t accept the genocide. it’s a huge debate in Turkey.”
Listening, it's hard to make sense of. But, its not like the US acknowledges we committed genocide, wiping out our indigenous population or importing slaves. Politics in mind, even President Obama failed to use the word “genocide” on the hundredth anniversary in 2015, rather describing it as, “the first mass atrocity of the 20th century—the Armenian Meds Yeghern—when one and a half million Armenian people were deported, massacred, and marched to their deaths in the final days of the Ottoman empire.”
Churches, schools and symbols of Armenian civilization were targeted. But not all were destroyed. Much survived, as it has for thousands of years, through countless invasions. I wanted to see this, to spend a little time exploring this complicated history, here in Armenia, where the conflicts have taken the most dire of consequences.
Talking with Irwin Epstein, my old mentor, about our trip. He replied with a story:
“One day Fran and I were walking in some neighborhood in Athens and it suddenly started to rain. We ran up some steps to take cover under the portico of an unimpressive building. Two guys immediately came out and welcomed us into the building from the rain. That was nice. We were in the Museum of the Armenian Genocide. And when we said we were from the USA, they were even happier to show us around—pictures of guys hanging from trees, piles of bodies of men, women and children, and if we skipped a picture one or the other would bring us back to what we missed… As soon as the rain stopped we couldn’t be happier to make our escape promising to tell others about it.”
Our third day in Georgia, we took an excursion to Armenia, hopefully to learn a bit more about what happened, to understand the ongoing border disputes, the see the art and the wonderful food, a few of Armenia’s world heritage sites, including Haghpat and Sanahin Monasteries. They call these parts, the Caucasus of Armenia, Azerbaijan, Georgia, and Southern Russia, the Balkans MK2, says Lasha, our energetic guide. With conflicts from the past millennium to this, back and forth, it's hard to disagree. Lanky and smart, he’s with us all day long, telling stories, answering question after question.
Crossing the border, Lasha, tells us we’ll go through two border crossings, each way. The Karabakh dispute has made crossing more complicated, he tells us. What’s that, I ask. Says Lasha, the conflict is recent and historic, with Russia supporting Azerbaijan. It started in 1988, with war from 1992-4. Armenia takes control of the region in 1992. There’ve been constant clashes since the end of the Soviets. In 2020, Azerbaijan starts a “special operation” to take it back, a second war with an Azerbaijan victory. The Karabakh region is inhabited by mostly ethnic Armenians, that was until they were expelled in the 1990’s. The disputes are many here. There are always biases, many dating back to the Turkish invasion in the 10th century, says Lasha. Constant flare ups on the border. One side blames the other. One side plants a flag. Military steps in the wrong place. Georgia is open to most all people, except the neighbors to the north. If you go to Armenia, Azerbaijan will not accept you. At first Georgia thought it would be the next invasion. But with the losses Russia has endured, our side is not sure they move here. We are taking the Southern road to Armenia. It's a quiet border.
“Getting close to the border. It ought to be only a few more minutes,” says Lasha. “Georgia to Armenia is easy. But there have been issues in the past. One passport check out of Georgia, another into Armenia. Tell them you are on tour to Alaverde, Lasha advises as we enter the lines at passport control. A UNHCR sign to the left of passport control says, “Right to seek asylum in Armenia.” Borders feel quite silly, an odd byproduct of the modern world. We hear sirens and dogs, see police and security, obscure rituals and disputes old and new.
Finally, through both borders, Lasha tells us there are 2.3 million people here, a minority Russians. “Armenia is the first Christian country. It shares borders with Azerbaijan, Georgia, and Turkey. Russia is a big ally and its main trading partner, throughout this mountain region. The currency is weak. Ten million Armenians live in a diaspora around the US, Eastern Europe and Russia. Factories largely abandoned, agriculture is the main economic activity today. Its religion is Apostolic Christianity; before that it was Zoroastrian. This is the source for their pagan history. Because of their beliefs, they’ve been excommunicated, splitting with the Eastern Orthodox church. Their national identity relies on Christianity. It's a seismic heavy zone, quake after quake, eleven seconds on New Years. The shifts and conflicts are always here in the Caucuses, though they were largely frozen in the Soviet years. It was quiet. Once that ended, the so called ‘patriots’ could speak out. And disputes that lingered, heated up. In Georgia, there are two disputed territories, occupied by Russia, slowing our entry into the EU.”
On we talked about the history of the Caucasus, the ongoing regional conflicts, the genocide a hundred years prior. Our first stop is Akhtala, a ninth century fortified church, with stone memorials, stories Iranians invading, muslims opposed to images of the faces of deities, burning the frescos inside. Still, they’ve survived along with the church, now a candidate to be a world heritage site.
Next stop, Haghpat, a UNESCO World Heritage, and tenth century medieval monastery and fortress that withstood Mongol invasions, earthquakes, the Ottomans and Persians burning the idols inside, a 13th century Mongol invasion, that left books and libraries decimated. The monks were told to leave, only to return after their invaders left. Still the church never crumbled, always holding together.
Next stop, Shanahin Abby, another UNESCO World Heritage site, overlooking a valley, green mountain in the distance, the Alaverde factory not far off.
Throughout the day, stories continually found their way back to the horrors a century prior. It's hard to elude. Armenia has two closed borders, one with Azerbaijan, another with Turkey. Hostility dates back ages. Losing in World War I, the Ottomans blamed the Armenians, the Christians, and started killing them, some 1.6 million, Greeks as well, Lasha reminds us. Lots of countries do not recognize the Genocide, Georgia and Russia do not. In recent days, things have gotten better between the two, even partially opening the border. Armenians don’t like them. But most do not care. Armenians came to Istanbul during the earthquake to help, in a gesture of goodwill. Most Armenians came to Georgia after the Genocide. Again, many call this area, Balkans MK2. It's the same dynamic of people fighting and hating each other because of something that happened a thousand years ago, says Lasha. In 1453, the Turks took Constantinople. A lot of the conflict dates back to this. Today, there are attempts at reconciliation between Turkey and Armenia. But not Armenia and Azerbaijan. That is ongoing. Arabian and Eurasian plates have been colliding, on this border between continents, for a very long time.
There’s a demo when we get back to Tbilisi, says Gega. Apparently, Russian planes are flying into Georgia again. Our guide is not too concerned. They are already here, Lasha says. They just come through Armenia.
Will recalls going to the Southern border with Mexico with Dad. A kid on a boat on the Rio Grande came up to us. Dad said two. And the kid rode us across. No problem.
On the way back, our group enjoys a big local meal. Chatting away, some guys from Berlin suggest we all go to Bassani, the most famous disco in Tbilisi, when we get back. We should make an evening of it, they suggest. We agree, traveling to the club in a former football stadium, repurposed for fun, like the best industrial clubs in Berlin. The movement of bodies dancing together always says something, even if it's contested. I start scrolling around, looking into the history. “Bassiani: the Tbilisi techno mecca shaking off post-Soviet repression,” says the Guardian. “After a police raid prompted mass protests, the defiantly queer nightclub became an emblem of a new, progressive Georgia. … they’re standing up to conservatism.”
It's like Berghain, I think, hanging in line before we get in, dancing into the night.
Wine and History
Saturday, we cruise past vineyard landscapes, through the scenic Alazani Valley to wineries, tasting traditional wines, and sample Georgian cheeses. From Tbilisi to Kakheti, we explore food, history, and culture, a glass of wine here, chacha there. Our guide, Salou holds court, reminding us Mother Georgia has a sword in one hand, a glass of wine in the other. Wine is the route to the soul. The Assorti fathers came here in the 6th century, building monasteries we will see today, Salou tells us, moving back and forth between cultural and culinary history. “After three chacha, you are going to be ready to chachacha!”
“Most of us want Georgia to be in the EU,” says Salou. “Not Russia. We had two hundred years of Russia. It's not really very free or good. We are living good now, better than in the Russian times.” She tells stories about Georgians. “We share with each other,” she says. We all remember the Soviet times. Everything had two sides. Our second president Shaskili ended the mafia rule here and renovated things. He was our hero after the Roses Revolution. Things improved.” He seemed to inspire people. “Georgia is not just a European country, but one of the most ancient European countries,” said Shaskili. But he was unstable, George lamented. Things go back and forth. Then the 2008 Russia five day war and invasion and Georgia was moving backwards. And then the Ukraine invasion. Which will it be? Russia is pushing. Are we next, Salou wonders on the way to the David Gorregia Monastery, by the border with Azerbaijan, just up the hill. Stalin changed the borders around here. Things are always changing. This was long a pagan place, before Nino came along in 327 and converted Georgia with her friends. Girls still worship Nino now. They took stories from the pagans, she tells us, as we make our way to Svetitskhoveli Cathedral, an Orthodox Christian church in Mtskheta, a masterpiece of the Early and High Middle Ages, recognized by UNESCO.
Story after story, we learn about this culture, making bread, taking in a homemade meal, tomatoes and cheese, barbeque, and, of course, lots of wine, and wine toasts to Georgia and our hosts, to wine and family, Nino and laughter. It's all happened before, they say around here, says Salou. Knowing it helps us understand the present moment, protests, and struggles to connect with the West, and remain autonomous with the neighbors to the North. Having fun all day long, Salou helps us trace 5000 years of winemaking in Koketti, history and myths, through a twelve hour conversation.
Our last day, we venture out to Mtskheta, on Nicholas’ advice, off to see two one of the most important churches in Georgian history Jvari and Svetitskhoveli, one built in 11 century and the second in 6 or 7th centuries. Says UNESCO: “The Historical Monuments of Mtskheta are located in the cultural landscape at the confluence of the Aragvi and Mtkvari Rivers, in Central-Eastern Georgia, some 20km northwest of Tbilisi in Mtskheta. The property consists of the Jvari Monastery, the Svetitstkhoveli Cathedral and the Samtavro Monastery. Mtskheta was the ancient capital of Kartli, the East Georgian Kingdom from the 3rd century BC to the 5th century AD, and was also the location where Christianity was proclaimed as the official religion of Georgia in 337. To date, it still remains the headquarters of the Georgian Orthodox and Apostolic Church. The favourable natural conditions, its strategic location at the intersection of trade routes, and its close relations with the Roman Empire, the Persian Empire, Syria, Palestine, and Byzantium, generated and stimulated the development of Mtskheta and led to the integration of different cultural influences with local cultural traditions. After the 6th century AD, when the capital was transferred to Tbilisi, Mtskheta continued to retain its leading role as one of the important cultural and spiritual centres of the country. The Holy Cross Monastery of Jvari, Svetitskhoveli Cathedral and Samtavro Monastery are key monuments of medieval Georgia.”
Inside the Monastery, kids kiss the image of Nino. And pray.
Finally, we just stroll through the city, people watching, taking in the crumbling streets, where everyone is out, past Freedom Square where they were preparing for independence day. All weekend, the city protested Russian flights into and out of Tbilisi again. It's the talk on everyone’s mind. Some think it's fine. Others see Russia as aggressors, who have occupied two regions, jeopardizing their entry into the EU. Will and I chat about it all with George. “It's dangerous. And we are trying to be in the EU. And the world is trying to isolate Russia. And here we are. It's a huge risk,” says George. “It's an economic invasion. They couldn't do it in Ukraine with tanks. But it did happen with Crimea. They moved in. Now a lot of Russians are there. We are trying to be in the EU and they are coming in, taking over without tanks.”
Past the Jewish cemetery and Turkish market, we watch people selling their wares, on through the Armenia neighborhood, to the Museum of the Soviet Occupation, where George drops us off and we say goodbye. “The museum houses materials, representing period of Georgian history, during the Soviet occupation (1921-1991). Most of items were collected from the Security Service archive, as well as archives of various museums, families, etc.” Story after story unfold of intellectuals and artists purged in a seemingly endless struggle between East and West, poets slaughtered, free thinkers sent to Siberia.
It's a relief just to walk through the old neighborhoods on our way back to the old town, stopping at a few little pubs along the way, drinking some Georgian wine a guy sold us on the street, sitting looking at the city on our balcony, watching the Last Days of Stalin, before we make our way back to Istanbul, for a layover, on our ways back to Stockholm and Berlin.
Back in Berlin
Each day, I hear new stories of Tbilisi and Georgia, more Georgians coming into my life. My friend Nino from New York sent me a facebook message about Tbilisi.
“Go to Mtatsminda… it means holy mountain. It used to be tram and cable car, now there is new tram, not as cool as old one but still nice. when I was a kid we used to walk with my grandpa to the old cable car from our home, through the streets and backyards…”
I can see her there, walking with her Grandfather. You feel the stories here, Will and I walked by the new tram our first afternoon in Tbilisi. I asked Nino if she’d been keeping up with the protests here. Would she have taken part if she were there?
“I would be in the streets with them if I were there, all my family is,” replied Nino. “Do not have anything against common Russian folk, but as a country Russia was always hostile to us. It occupied 20% of our territory, moves borders, kidnaps people. And now after all this Ukraine war happened … not joining sanctions, direct flights, political prisoners, big part of population leaving the country cause you cannot survive there. And Ukraine was always beside us when we were in trouble… I feel shame, our current government should go. It once was corruption free rapidly developing democracy, these young people in the streets grew up in a free country where law mattered. Now they are being tear gassed for protesting… I feel shame of what we have become and that Putin will swallow my country with help of our government…”
Yet, the good people of Georgia are not caving. I meet them every day here in Berlin, in between classes. Writing this dispatch, we were discussing Michael Burawoy’s paper, “For a Sociological Marxism: The Complementary Convergence of Antonio Gramsci and Karl Polanyi.”
“Both are implicitly arguing that there is a core conflict driving society,” says our professor Mihai Varga, wrapping up our discussion of Gramsci and Karl Polanyi’s almost dialectical framing of conflicts over civil society, between those in favor of markets and social protections from the market. “Hailing from different social worlds and following different Marxist traditions, both converged on a similar critique and transcendence of Classical Marxism. For Gramsci advanced capitalism is marked by the expansion of civil society, which, with the state, acts to stabilize class relations and provide a terrain for challenging capitalism. For Polanyi expansion of the market threatens society, which reacts by (re)constituting itself as active society, thereby harboring the embryo of a democratic socialism. This article appropriates “society” …and deploys it to interpret the rise and fall of communist orders, the shift from politics of class to politics of recognition, the transition from colonialism to postcolonialism, and the development of an emergent transnationalism.”
Looking at struggles and conflicts around the world, I’ve spent the year wondering about places rendered invisible by history and domination of empires near and far, yearning for recognition, coping with their own ageless conflicts between subordination and autonomy, markets and civil society, rule by force and democracy.
Each student in our seminar had to join a group on either Gramsci or Polanyi. Lead by M, our group concerned Gramsci, whose home we visited five years prior. Chatting after class, I ask M where shes from. “Georgia,” she tells me on the way to the train. Were you at the protests in March, I ask. “Of course,” she tells me. “I flew home. I had to be there. I wasn’t tear gassed but my friend was. She was terrified. But everyone stayed at the demo. They fired water on us.” And the group held together.
“What about rubber bullets?” I ask.
“I didn’t see any then. But I did see them on June 20th, 2019.”
“What happened?”
“When Russian State Duma MP, came to parliament in Tbilisi, he sat in the leader’s chair. It was a very provocative gesture. People came down to Parliament, blocking the streets for three days of protests. It was the beginning of this era of protests. The Minister of Internal Affairs Giorgi Gakharia called for a crackdown on protests, police aiming at the people with rubber bullets. I was not shot. But others, Mako Gomuri was shot in the eyes. Today, she is a symbol of the protests that defined the era till now. People are afraid to protest. We are not a democracy. Instead we are boycotting the airlines, Azimut, with flights to and from Moscow from Tbilisi. Right now, we are in a crisis. They are securing the evidence of what they are doing. And now they are kissing Putin’s ass.”
On we talk about civil society and protests, democracy and propensity of people to elect idiots, over and over again. The story of Georgia and its protests is anything but over. I keep watching the video of Maku and the teargas, thinking about Mother Georgia, wine in one hand, a sword in the other, her roses and revolutions, eternally spinning, dialogue expanding.
“Every rose will fade and wither, no matter though it once was fair.
The dry rose falls within the garden, a new rose arises there.”
― Shota Rustaveli, The Knight in the Panther's Skin
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