Georgia Dispatches: A Country at War?
Passage across the border between Armenia and Georgia takes longer than it usually does, but that’s not surprising. “It’s because of the ’situation’ there,” the customs guard explains in quite a matter of fact way and without any of the sense of delight that can be found on some faces in Yerevan when discussing Georgia’s latest and most traumatic spat with Russia.
Indeed, the mood is cordial at the Bagratashen-Sadakhlo border and devoid of the inner tensions hidden behind false smiles that can be detected when Armenians and Georgians meet face to face. The Georgian-Armenian driver now having to go through seemingly more paperwork than normal is genuinely friendly with the officials on both sides of the border.
He makes the trip constantly, he explains, and especially now with the Western media having to fly into Yerevan first before making the journey up to Tbilisi, the Georgian capital. “There’s been 25 of them so far,” he says. “Good business for you,” I respond.
And even though the border might have seen an influx of elite refugees — expat workers from Georgia evacuated in the recent military conflict with Russia — it’s calm. Apart from the extra wait — little more than 30 minutes — it’s as if peace reigns in the South Caucasus. The Armenian customs official gets me worried for a moment, though.
“Why do you spell your name with two ‘n’s’ he asks, and I instantly wonder if it’s a matter of national security and he thinks he’s discovered a foreign spy masquerading as someone with an Armenian name. “Mine is Onig too, but I only have one ‘n.’” Yeah, I respond, “but you also spell your name with a ‘g.’” He laughs and waves me through to a country effectively at war.
You wouldn’t guess it at first, though. Two young Georgian customs officers, one looking quite cute indeed in her skirt and high heels while the other wore slacks, were flirting with a male counterpart posing for photographs atop a small boat parked on a large truck. Security was light with not a single soldier in sight.
The scene was slightly different in the city of Marneuli, capital of the mainly Azerbaijani populated region which travelers have to pass through on the way to Tbilisi from Georgia. The military base on the side of the road had been hit in an air raid at the start of the spat with Russia over South Ossetia, but apart from a few more soldiers than you’d normally see, all was peaceful there.
The same can be said in Tbilisi too, where residents carry on their every day business and seem otherwise cheerful… until the conversation turns to the war. And have no doubt about it — people here do consider it to be a war with Russia over Georgia’s independence, territorial integrity and geopolitical moves towards the West. “In South Ossetia…” one acquaintenace starts, before stopping.
“No,” he shouts angrily. “I WON’T call it South Ossetia. It’s GEORGIA!”
BUt otherwise it’s peaceful. The bombing on the outskirts of the Georgian capital has since stopped, but people are unsure as to what will happen next. Everyday the news reports that the Russian military has agreed to withdraw, but moments later other reports indicate otherise.
News reports showing Georgian police re-entering Gori, for example, were followed literally moments later on CNN with reports that they had not only entered the Black Sea port of Poti, but that there were also reports of explosions and smoke billowing into the air from around the strategic town about 70 kilometers from Tbilisi. My plans were to go there, but both the OSCE and the UN still consider it too dangerous.
Yesterday, one international organization contact said that UN vehicles were even stopped by armed men in uniform and their vehicles taken on the approach to Gori. They wore no country emblems so rumor is that they were South Ossetian gunmen who the Russians are allowing to freely operate in and around the strategic town. This is in contravention of international norms.
One local journalist says he has even heard that foreign reporters will receive 500 Euros a day for reporting from Gori, but that’s for the likes of the BBC and CNN, one supposes, and I don’t work for either. Word is that even with the extra payment, few journalists actually want to go. At least three have been killed so far and several wounded. Many allege the Russians and South Ossetian’s are purposely targeting the media.
Every resident of Tbilisi also warns against venturing there. “It’s not safe,” they say, “and you can’t trust the Russians.”
Indeed, virtually every Georgian I’ve spoken to is behind Saakashvili and attempts to regain South Ossetia by force. “They were provoking us,” said one friend. “They always have. We needed to strike back and is there any doubt now that the Russians had this planned? They are not peacekeepers, they’re a party to the conflict.”
Nevertheless, he also raises some concerns about the military operation by the Georgians. Why wasn’t the tunnel into South Ossetia targetted to prevent Russian troops from entering, for example, or why were inexperienced reservists sent into battle ill-equipped and unprepared. Transported into Gori in bright yellow buses, the conscripts were sitting ducks from the air, and when the Russian bombs dropped, many fled.
But there have been tales of bravery as well. One reservist acquaintenace is a veteran of previous conflicts in South Ossetia and Abkhazia and he went to fight and fought well. At least two friends here have made overnight runs to the West of Georgia to pick up stranded friends and relatives. The Russians have effectively cut off both sides of the country and it is not safe to pass through Gori even today.
Because of such concerns with safety, and not least from Russian troops and South Ossetian or Cossack irregulars, they instead travel through the mountains via Tsalka, a town with a mainly Armenian population mixed with Azerbaijanis, Georgians and Greeks.
And here is where the next big problem seems to lie. Forget the politics of the matter, there is now increasing concern about the humanitarian side of the crisis. Exact figures are not known, but tens of thousands of IDPs are materializing in Tbilisi without homes to go and without more than the clothes they are wearing. Tbilisi residents are donating clothes which are often dumped in select areas where IDPs from Gori and South Ossetia scramble to get what they can.
The situation is even more dire when it comes to food. According to one international aid worker, even the World Food Program (WFP) can’t address the issue. All they have, he says, is wheat, salt, oil and sugar. The IDPs of course, which appear to be breaking into any uninhabited building such as a school or kindergarten, have no cooking utensils anyway. When bread is delivered, the IDPs fight to get what they can.
They are desparate, and in more ways than just in terms of day-to-day survival. While photographing outside one of the rare food distribution centers, one IDP turns to me looking traumatized by the events of the past week. “Why are you photographing this,” she remarked. “You should be photographing what they [Russians] are doing in Gori.” Another joins in and alleges gross violations of human rights by South Ossetian and Cossack militia in other ethnic Georgian villages.
Of course, allegations are flying from all sides, but this is the view from Tbilisi where one ex-pat worker who decided to remain argues that the mass evacuation of foreigners from the country was a disgrace. Abandoning their local colleagues, employees and friends, he says, what impression does that create in the minds of those Georgians who they were sent into the country to help?
Still, he adds, the streets of Tbilisi are much nicer and easier to navigate without the countless 4-wheel-drives transporting the ex-pat community around for work or leisure on the streets.
Note: This much for now. Unfortunately my laptop died on me last night and now have irregular access to a computer and the Internet. I hope to add photos and post more accounts soon.
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