Letter from Tbilisi

On the streets of Tbilisi refugees from Gori arrive by the truck-load into an atmosphere filled with fear and nationalism.

By Ben Judah in Tbilisi for ISN Security Watch

Children are playing outside Tbilisi’s School Six but they are not taking a break from their studies. Inside the dilapidated classrooms almost four-hundred refugees from South Ossetia and Gori are unpacking the few belonging they brought with them in rubbish sacks and plastic bags. Georgian sources estimate that as many as 60,000 such refugees are now in the capital.

Dali Dzarcemi points at the map of Georgia that hangs above the black-board at where his village once was. “A week ago Russians, Ossetians, Chechens and Cossacks came and brunt our house. All the Georgian people who were living there in the village had to flee. I don’t think I am going to be able to go back as my village. It’s in the area the Ossetians want to keep. I’m terrified. I’m a farmer. I have no clue how I can make a good life for me and my family in the city.” His wife’s brother was shot during the fighting and is in hospital, but he is mostly concerned about his two year old son Sergo. “We are not hungry. We have what we need. But the special stuff you need for children is expensive and they don’t give it for free. My wife is pregnant, how can I raise a new-born and small boy in a classroom with two bin-bags of possessions?”

In the next class room along the corridor Achiko Yelkcenuli is worrying about his brother in the army. “I haven’t heard from him today. Normally he calls every day. You never know if something could have happened.” Achiko has lost his home and knows dozens of people who have either lost family members of friends. I ask him if the refugees blame the Georgian President Mikhail Saakashvili in any way for what has happened. “No. I am a proud Georgian. I am proud of my leader. He is defending our lands against the enemy.” Talking to other people in centre bring similar replies and often nationalist claims that the Ossetians only arrived on the back of Russian invading troops into the area in the 1920s. There are tones of compromise.

Shota Manjavidze is the Director of the School and has hastily become the man in charge of the refugees. When I ask him what people’s feelings towards the leadership are I get a more nuanced reply. “There are people who don’t like Saakashvili here in this refugee-centre. I think half of them. But they keep quiet about it. It’s best not heard speaking against him. It’s not patriotic. People could get very angry about that.”

As I make my way to Georgian State TV centre I pass three military truck-loads of refugees. Dato is from Gori and has just finished studying at the Georgian Technical University. He and his friends explain to me how they feel about the situation. “The Government tried really hard to bring us to Europe and NATO and almost managed. They really improved people’s lives. But this war is not about that – Russia can have on its borders only slaves or enemies. She could not have a free and successful Georgia.”

Talking to Dato and his friends bring me closer to the way Georgians themselves are interpreting the war – not as an opening clash between Putin’s resurgent Russia and the West in a Second Cold War - but as a national struggle for land and independence. Nationalist graffiti on the walls tell a the press is full of patriotic photos of Georgian soldiers holding holy icons. For most people I speak to the EU and NATO are dream-like concepts whilst the real story is about reclaiming territory they view as having been stolen from them by Russian back separatists. Dato argues that Saakashvili is the right leader at the right time. “The Rose Revolution was about national pride. He personifies that. When I see how the whole world is with him during this War it makes me proud to be Georgian – and certain that somehow we will win.”

Inside the buildings of the Georgian National TV I meet Tamar Urushadze, a young reporter who was shot four time by Russian troops live on air. Her arm is bandaged up and hangs in a sling. She will never really be able to use it again. For her these are frightening times. “There is fear. Nobody really knows what is going to happen to our country and our people. Right now people are rallying to the flag and the Government. Even the opposition parties are behind Saakashvili now. This is about our survival as a free and sovereign state.”

The atmosphere in Tbilisi is one nationalism and fear as more refugees continue to arrive. As the uncertainty about what is about to unfold only deepens the narrative of the conflict has been sold by the Government and taken up by most of the population as a national struggle against a barbaric enemy to defend the inviolable borders of the state. This is something that European peacemakers and the American ally need to take into account when they attempt to bring not just a cease-fire to Georgia – but also a lasting solution to its woes.