Author: Tamta Mikeladze
The article belongs to the Center for Social Justice. We reproduce it because we believe the topics discussed herein are still relevant today. The article was first published on September 27, 2022.
After the brutal war in Ukraine, issues related to our own conflicts and war have resurfaced in society and have become the subject of active discussions on social media and, to some extent, in traditional media. These discussions often have emotional, one-sided, and exclusive content and form, and lack political, legal, and academic legitimacy, deviating from the spirit of a critical and multi-layered interpretation of history. Moreover, the discussion of conflicts in the context of the war in Ukraine has increasingly been viewed only from a geopolitical perspective, with the Russian factor dominating historical interpretations and excluding internal political, economic, ethnic, and other fundamental factors.
Today we discuss the history of these conflicts without reaching social, political, or legal consensus on these issues. Since gaining independence, our country has undergone complex transitions, including ethnopolitical conflicts, civil war, mass corruption, and authoritarianism, and the state has not implemented a policy of restoring justice. The process of restoring justice generally includes several directions — establishing and documenting the truth; punishing perpetrators; protecting victims and restoring their rights; preventing conflict, including ensuring security, democratizing politics and the judicial system.
It is important that the policy of restoring justice covers all this simultaneously and does not turn into a tool for silencing or patronizing victims, or for political revenge. Going through this process is undoubtedly crucial to restoring justice, preventing further violence, protecting and respecting the rights of victims, and freeing society from collective traumas of the past.
However, it is also critical for the democratization of the political system and society, establishing lasting peace, and holding elites accountable. At no period in our political system has restorative justice been undertaken, and conflicts from the 1990s have never been addressed, with the trauma and damage from this period affecting our societies on both sides of the divide to this day. Knowledge about this period is scarce in formal education systems and even in academic circles (aside from a few positive changes and experiences in recent years). This gap in policy, law, and knowledge evidently creates high risks of political exploitation of the issue, the creation of myths, and the emergence of new divisions and hierarchies.
Despite the more pluralistic environment in Georgia, where the expression of critical ideas is allowed and accepted, the political elite, and even more so institutional policies, remain limited and resistant to more progressive perspectives on issues of peace and conflict. These perspectives are based on a bottom-up reading of history, people- and community-oriented approaches, and ideas of justice, equality, and democracy.
Various factors are sometimes cited as reasons for this — the growing influence of Russia in the region and especially in conflict areas, which makes security interests a leading dimension of the conflict issue; the necessity and inevitability for political parties to align with dominant discourses and electoral interest groups; and the difficulty of initiating a self-critical process related to the past and conflicts within Abkhaz and South Ossetian societies and political systems, which renders unilateral self-reflection and “repentance” unjustifiable and absurd.
In all these explanations, political actors overlook Tbilisi’s higher responsibility as a power center in matters of the past and future. Most importantly, political actors are responsible for the political and social transformations and the inertia, silence, and practical exclusion of conflict issues from the political agenda that have developed over the years. This makes it difficult to change social attitudes and views. One could pose a more radical question: who is more reactionary on these issues — society or our political elite? In my view, the recent campaign initiated by one of the right-wing political parties still directs the burden of responsibility toward the elite.
In any case, it is clear that the politics of conflict and peace require greater political accountability, public self-reflection, and progress toward agreements. If this process is not initiated by the political elite, it must be started from the bottom by civic groups. For this purpose, it’s necessary for those working on peace issues to become more public and vocal, and to make greater efforts to represent critical political views and social transformations.
On the subject of the dominant interpretations of conflict history, the instrumentalization of the past, and the dangers of this process, I sought to ask reliable researchers and experts working in the fields of conflict and peace, history, and social sciences. This article brings together their opinions and perspectives.
Let us describe the political, legal, and institutional field that defines our positions, visions, and limitations when discussing the past, conflicts, and peace.
Natia Chankvetadze, peace and conflict researcher
Discussions about conflicts in Georgia, like the work in this area, occur within a quite limited political, legal, and institutional space.
One of the primary issues is the politically unresolved status of conflicts, and the second is the disagreements about the type and scale of existing conflicts. For example, we operate in an environment where there is no clear answer to questions like—how many conflicts do we have? Or who are we in conflict with? Specific answers to these questions are crucial for developing an adequate political agenda around peacebuilding and conflict resolution.
The political field in Georgia is unclear regarding the topic of conflicts, which is vividly reflected in the programs of political parties. Virtually no political party has a detailed vision or program for addressing the Georgian-Russian, Georgian-Abkhaz, and Georgian-South Ossetian conflicts; for responding to changing geopolitical circumstances, creating opportunities, and challenges. As a result, various groups, whether political or civic, create different types of mainly reactionary narratives, often vague and sometimes mostly one-sided.
A good example is the recent campaign “Before Bucha, There Was Abkhazia” and the topic of recognizing the genocide of Georgians in Abkhazia. One of the first questions I have about these campaigns is: what political goal does each campaign serve in terms of conflict resolution? Or whom are we explaining and proving the story of the persecution and killing of Georgians in Abkhazia to, especially given that the international community has agreed upon and recognized the history of ethnic cleansing of Georgians in Abkhazia?
Where do the Abkhaz themselves fit into this narrative? Is it possible that in the region, meaning Abkhazia, the genocide of Georgians occurred without affecting the Abkhaz? Many more questions can be asked about this and other campaigns, revealing their short-sighted, reactionary, and even manipulative nature.
The second question is about the legal framework in which we operate. In the context of politically unresolved conflicts, the legal space is also unstable or even nonexistent. This is also the case with Georgia. Following agreements on the status or political aspects of conflicts, there is often the development and implementation of legal tools, such as investigations into war crimes, truth and reconciliation processes, restitution to restore property rights lost during the war, etc.
It is logical that these processes have not begun or could not begin in Georgia because we are dealing with prolonged and unresolved conflicts. However, there are serious disputes in international courts against Russia concerning the August 2008 war. In addition to these, it is important to critically assess the ongoing processes during the 1990s conflicts and the internal civil war from a legal perspective, and to work on establishing and analyzing as many facts as possible.
The ambiguity or inadequacy of the political-legal field affects the institutional space. In Georgia, specifically regarding conflicts, there is the State Minister for Reconciliation and Civic Equality, which only has a mandate to coordinate policy and lacks a program budget. But this office is not the only institution dealing with conflict issues. According to decisions made in recent years, especially under the peace initiative “Step Towards a Better Future,” the topic of conflicts has been within the purview of various ministries, including the Ministry of Health, Ministry of Justice, Ministry of Internal Affairs, and others. Additionally, there is the office of the Government of the Autonomous Republic of Abkhazia and the temporary administration of the former South Ossetian region.
Besides these institutions, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs is also actively involved in conflict issues, though with a greater focus on occupation and Russian influence. One of the main challenges is the lack of coordinated activity in the institutional space, which is not due to logistical failures but is largely related to the fragility and shortcomings of the political-legal field. In addition to state institutions, non-governmental organizations, the so-called civil sector, are involved in conflict issues, but there are also disagreements among them. There are different views on various issues, such as the nature of the conflicts, the parties involved, and the primary and secondary aspects of resolution and transformation.
In sum, it can be said that the topic of conflicts in Georgia is discussed within a vague and flawed political, legal, and institutional space. People, interest groups, parties, and other actors are guided by reactive and short-term approaches in creating various initiatives, narratives, and processes, and the only thing that defines their actions is personal experience, memory, and moral compass. Consequently, discussions often focus on emotions, with less depth and a lower willingness to constructively address complex issues.
Why is it important to have a multi-layered analysis of the conflict and to move beyond the victim/aggressor dichotomy when discussing conflicts of this period? How do you structurally describe the history of the Georgian-Abkhaz conflict, and what is problematic about explaining this conflict solely with reference to Russia?
Paata Zakareishvili, Political Scientist, State Minister for Reconciliation and Civic Equality from 2012 to 2016
It must be said that all unresolved conflicts on earth are multi-layered, and Georgia is no exception in this regard. Moreover, movement towards conflict resolution occurs in those conflicts where all levels and all parties are recognized, and the relationships between them are transparent and clear. Conflicts in Georgia have reached a deadlock because the Georgian political elite does not want to acknowledge the multi-layered and multifaceted nature of the conflicts on our territory.
In my view, we are dealing with a multi-level conflict within Georgia. Using Abkhazia as an example, we can say that there is a three-layered conflict. The primary layer is Georgian-Abkhaz estrangement, which has historical, social, economic, political, cultural, and ethnic foundations. Recognizing these factors at the right time could have prevented the military confrontation. Unfortunately, the political elites on both sides acted based on the political expediency of the specific time and space, prioritizing short-term interests over long-term strategic goals. Generally, both sides preferred to take steps towards confrontation rather than attempting to direct their policies towards de-escalation. The campaign launched by “Tabula” and “European Georgia” is also a prime example of such a policy. Georgian politics has often been characterized by uncompromising stances, but the Abkhaz side did not lag behind in confrontation. Russia has always exploited such confrontations to further its geopolitical interests.
The roots of the current Georgian-Abkhaz conflict, in my view, lie in the 1980s. Prior to this period, the Georgian-Abkhaz estrangement was in a latent state, with no signs that it would inevitably escalate into armed confrontation. The reforms that began in the USSR in 1986, known as “perestroika,” gave additional energy to ethnic nationalism and the desire for independence among the peoples of the Soviet Union. After the changes in social relations, it became increasingly clear that Georgian and Abkhaz societies had radically different and opposing views on their future. It was during this period that latent Georgian-Abkhaz estrangement began to awaken, gradually taking on an institutional and systemic character.
The prevailing policy of estrangement and confrontation made armed conflict inevitable. Official propaganda and rhetoric of that period indeed did not mention the Georgian-Russian conflict. Until 2000, the conflict in Abkhazia was primarily understood as a Georgian-Abkhaz conflict, although everyone recognized the role of Russia, both positive and negative. Georgian leader Eduard Shevardnadze and the ruling political force, the “Union of Citizens,” made every effort not to present Russia as a party to the conflict. Georgian propaganda of the 1990s mainly spoke of Russia — about informal armed groups from the North Caucasus and the two Russias opposing each other through the deepening constitutional crisis occurring parallel to the Georgian-Abkhaz armed conflict.
Once power in Georgia effectively changed and the “National Movement” government came to power, they fundamentally and systematically shifted the conflict transformation policy to a new level, one focused solely on the Georgian-Russian confrontation, leaving no room for the Abkhaz side. According to the new narrative, the Abkhaz side was not pursuing a significantly different policy towards conflict transformation, and thus relations with it were deemed irrelevant. Instead of recognizing the new layer of power of the “National Movement” and seeking additional resources for conflict transformation, they chose a relatively simple path: they canceled one conflict and replaced it with another. This policy further alienated the Abkhaz side from Georgia and brought it closer to the neo-imperial interests of Russia.
The third layer may, and I hope will, be forming in the present period, right before our eyes. It can be conditionally called the Georgian-Georgian level. While, on the one hand, the “Georgian Dream” government does not engage with the Abkhaz side, thus continuing the policy of the “National Movement,” and on the other hand, it does not dare to assign Russia its share of responsibility and thus continues the policy of the “Union of Citizens” government, and a vicious cycle is being created that can only be broken by establishing a new Georgian discourse. The time has come for competitive visions to emerge in the public space of Georgia, showing how different political and civil groups see the path to transforming and resolving conflicts in Georgia.
In response to the campaign initiated by “European Georgia,” it should be noted that the Georgian-Abkhaz conflict is not merely a part of the Georgian-Russian conflict. While the Georgian-Russian conflict is indeed a component of Russia’s imperialist war, Russia effectively utilizes the non-constructiveness of the Georgian side, both in the Georgian-Abkhaz and Georgian-Ossetian conflicts, thereby reinforcing its imperialist policy across the Caucasus. This position has been further intensified and solidified by the ongoing war in Ukraine. I reiterate that the Georgian-Russian dimension is crucial and, depending on the current geopolitical context, even a leading factor compared to other layers. However, it is not the sole and unassailable dimension of our conflicts.
Malkhaz Saldaidze, Doctor of Peace and Conflict Studies
Going beyond the confrontation of victim and aggressor is a desirable goal. The question is when this might be achieved. This division between the sides separated by conflict remains vital to moral self-justification. It is clear that neither side will see itself as the aggressor. In my view, overcoming this division is not merely about one side forgetting its victims. Both sides will remember the sacrifices made in these wars. The real question is whether voices in the Georgian, South Ossetian, and Abkhaz societies will emerge who can reconsider the definition of aggressor. Perhaps this is more important for these societies, both for exiting the conflict and for reconciliation.
From the Georgian side, there is a prevailing view that Russia is the aggressor, not the Abkhaz or South Ossetians or their nationalist elites fighting for independence. This substitution, on one hand, creates space for communication with the Abkhaz and Ossetians, as if to say “we don’t blame you for our victimhood,” but at the same time remains blind to the prevailing narrative from their side about “heroic struggle for independence and innocent victims killed by Georgians.” They clearly prefer that Georgians see it this way, but the mirror effect of such a desire is that the conflict paradigm does not change. Similarly, the Georgian side will continue to feel victimized by the Russians, Abkhaz, and Ossetians.
So what can be changed in the definition of the aggressor to allow new or potential voices within these societies to create a narrative about the past that alters the existing victim-aggressor dichotomy? Could Abkhaz and Ossetians ever say that they too are victims of Russian imperialism and align with the Georgian narrative? Or is it possible for the Georgian side to recognize that, while being a victim, it also acted as an aggressor? And what if the same happens on the South Ossetian and Abkhaz sides? Or could a pacifist narrative emerge that is dissatisfied with the notion that all sides are victims? In any case, these considerations revolve around morality and identity, in which Georgian, Abkhaz, and Ossetian “we” must be victims of an external force, thus justifying independence for Georgians, Abkhaz, and South Ossetians.
The dismantling and demythologizing of this formula is, in essence, dissent in any such society. Those who dare to change or reject this victim-aggressor paradigm will have to contend with the guardians of this paradigm, who on both sides will be represented by a conservative moral majority. This means that, regardless of the political regime, the guardians of this paradigm are reactionary groups within society, and they adhere to this narrative scheme. To create a space where such dissent will not only be acceptable but also permissible, it is necessary to democratize the state to protect diverse opinions in the name of human rights and freedom of expression.
If this is more or less possible in Georgia (although we repeatedly see the state washing its hands when reactionary groups oppose different individuals and settle scores), it remains unthinkable in Abkhazia and South Ossetia. Various opinions about the past and especially about the struggle for “independence wars” are criminalized. Consequently, it is hard to imagine that in Georgian, Abkhaz, and South Ossetian societies, united by one conflict, such voices would emerge simultaneously.
Is it possible to deepen this process only within Georgian society (in my view, this shift in memory representation has already begun, with relevant mnemonic actors existing, though limited in number)? In my opinion, it is possible, although Abkhaz and South Ossetian narratives will always have direct reflections (“no, you started the war,” “you committed ethnic cleansing and genocide,” “we suffered the most,” etc.).
How can one discuss the contradictory history of ethnopolitical conflicts in this reality, when there has been no critical rethinking of the past within the framework of relevant legal and educational policies? How difficult is it for Georgian society to accept the contradictory aspects of this history, and how can the process of collective rethinking begin when neither state institutions nor political parties are facilitating it? Even the efforts of civil society organizations remain fragmented.
Malkhaz Toria, Historian
In societies with a traumatic conflict experience, it is more challenging to analyze the painful past critically and from multiple perspectives. It is even harder to view the conflict from a distance when you could not talk about it realistically in the past. Sometimes it is impossible to discuss the past with only calendar and standard settings. The circumstances of the Georgian-Abkhaz and Georgian-Ossetian conflicts are prolonged and ongoing. Furthermore, the term “frozen conflicts,” which was adopted in the 1990s, no longer reflects the current situation in view of Russian aggression in Ukraine. Thus, conflicts that erupted during the dissolution of the Soviet Union and remain unresolved are still an extremely painful issue for Georgian society.
On the other hand, in societies with a Soviet totalitarian past, the legacy of Stalinist territorial nationalism defines contemporary ethnocentric views about the historical belonging of specific territories to certain ethnic groups — Georgians, Abkhaz, Ossetians. This “regime of memory” hinders attempts to critically analyze the recent painful past. One of the main characteristics of Georgian, Abkhaz, and Ossetian “political memory” is the absolutism of one particular argument, reducing the causes of the conflict to a single factor.
For example, according to entrenched views in Georgian society, the sole or primary source of the Georgian-Abkhaz/Ossetian conflict is only an external force, while relations with the Abkhaz and Ossetians before the armed conflicts were ideal. On the other hand, the Abkhaz and Ossetians persistently argue for the existence of a centuries-old and permanent conflict with Georgians. They attempt to erase the rich and long history of peaceful coexistence with Georgians.
Overall, I cannot compare the tragedies, killings, and ethnic cleansings in Gagra, Sukhumi, or Gali with the events in Bucha. The severity of these well-documented crimes is comparable to the killing of Ukrainian civilians by Russian aggressors. In general, it is also very difficult to downplay the role of the Russians in all this. The factual history clearly points to this, regardless of the interpretation. Before and after Putin’s rise to power, Russia’s policy towards the conflict regions of Georgia was based on a more or less unified logic — Russia supported separatist movements because it was fundamentally unacceptable for Moscow to see Georgia distancing itself from its orbit.
A number of foreign researchers and journalists emphasize that Russian military units played a decisive role in the capture of Sukhumi, alongside North Caucasian militants and Abkhaz. I will be very critical of any position that does not give due weight to this context. The Georgians seemed to be deprived of the right to mourn. This issue is being silenced under the pretense of “not irritating” the Abkhaz; this is not only morally and ethically unacceptable but also, methodologically and politically, entirely incorrect. On the other hand, I want to emphasize that the pain and suffering of the Abkhaz and Ossetians cannot be ignored. Our main goal should be reconciliation with the Abkhaz and Ossetian societies, no matter how absurd and abstract it may sound.
However, I want to note that, since the events are complex and multilayered, it is difficult to draw one-sided conclusions about the conflicts in Georgia. Accordingly, it is necessary to consider numerous factors to reconstruct a more or less complete picture of our recent tragic past. These factors include structural, systemic, social, individual, and others. It is essential to ask many questions that may not be popular, especially among those who cultivate nationalist narratives from all sides of the conflict. This will help us eliminate many political myths and stereotypes related to the conflicts.
For example, amid the collapse of the Soviet Union and the disintegration of the imperial center in newly “nationalized” republics and separatist regions, former Soviet officials or newly minted national figures often resorted to the strategy of national mobilization to mask banal economic interests and political motives. This broad topic is divided into numerous directions in the works of various foreign and Georgian researchers. For instance, some analyze the role of political chaos, economic collapse, informal connections, the criminal world, corruption, incitement, smuggling, etc., in the emergence and intractability of conflicts.
The difference in opinions that arose when comparing the tragedies in Bucha and Abkhazia highlights the need to strengthen dialogue between Georgian academic, political, and social groups on these and other relevant issues. I believe that interesting and well-founded arguments can be presented from various perspectives. It is evident that not all positions can be reconciled, particularly radical populism from both the right and the left. If we recognize the necessity of dialogue with the Abkhaz and Ossetians, we must also strengthen the culture of dialogue among ourselves. This experience will undoubtedly be valuable in our dialogue with our fellow citizens living across the conflict’s dividing line.
The revival of the conflict’s history and the history of its victims has been accompanied by disagreements. Some believe that this will lead to new trauma for victims, while others argue that speaking the truth is liberating and can even be seen as part of restoring justice. What should the policies and approaches to dealing with victims, their protection, and respect actually be?
Nargiza Arjevanidze, Sociologist
I think that publishing and disseminating victims’ stories requires greater caution due to the sensitivity of the issue. Personally, I found it difficult even to read the stories shared on social media, described with exceptional documentary clarity. For example, I recall a story about the number of cases of rape in a specific village (the name of this settlement was also explicitly mentioned). I believe it is wrong to discuss such cases publicly in such a superficial manner.
From this perspective, well-known processes have led to the disclosure of cases of rape committed during the war, such as in the context of the Balkan conflicts. One vivid example is the inter-ethnic conflicts in the former Yugoslavia from 1991 to 1995 due to the systematic practice of rape. During that time, groups of human rights organizations, anti-war activists, journalists, and academic representatives/activists were involved in identifying cases of sexual violence, and as a result of their joint efforts, investigations into the scale of rape as a war crime began.
I also represent the refugee community. When the war started I was 14-15 years old, and I remember a lot very clearly. Naturally, we also heard harsh stories about the war, although not directly from the victims or witnesses, but stories heard somewhere and then retold to each other. Even within my immediate and family circle, specific stories we heard during the war were never mentioned since then.
I don’t know exactly how to explain this; specialists/psychologists might find the answer, but although I grew up on stories shared daily by refugees, none of them remembered stories of the cruelty of the war. I recorded many respondents for my research on refugees, including relatives and close ones. Although I knew for sure that some of them had gone through a difficult thing and experienced tragic events, they never shared these stories when talking to me.
Even 20-25 years after the start of the war, such news was associated with the greatest pain and trauma for them. I’m not saying they only retained a romanticized image of Abkhazia (which also plays a significant role in their stories), but the stories I have collected over the years, shared with me by the victims themselves, are almost not remembered. They mostly resembled muffled news, such as the same rapes and other violent incidents. By the way, crimes committed not only by the opposing side/enemy but also by members of “Mkhedrioni” were frequently recalled.
Researchers know that during or after wars and violent conflicts, there are many examples of how many myths are presented as reality. I’m not saying that all these brutal stories are myths, though some of them might be. The conflict was indeed brutal, and reports from various international organizations indicate that violence against civilians was also widespread during the fighting, resulting in thousands of deaths, thousands of injuries, and thousands of people missing from both sides of the conflict. As for the numbers, different organizations have different data, and attempts to manipulate the figures are common on both sides of the conflict.
However, returning to these stories, I still find it problematic to share such details, apart from the issue of trauma experience, because I think it is very rare for a direct victim to recount to a journalist even years later what they personally went through during the war. This is supported by my long-term experience as a researcher. Furthermore, there are specific approaches that specialists rely on when working with victims, and they approach this process more professionally. In other words, I want to say that this process is multilayered, lengthy, and much deeper than what we have seen.
Anna Dziapshipa, art historian, director
I believe it is very important to talk about the conflict, although there are ways to discuss it without trying to use victims to justify political or other goals. There are different practices for recording and processing oral histories, where recording and subsequent use of the stories have their own rules and ethical standards. I think that listening to these stories, preserving them, and analyzing them can be crucial when it comes to conflict. However, there is a question that I often ask myself when starting to work on a new topic. The question is why? Why do I choose this particular form to talk about certain issues and what is the purpose of my work? I believe this is a simple question, and an honest answer to it can resolve many wrong, unethical, and problematic decisions.
It is also important to consider the context, especially when it comes to conflict. All stories are very subjective, sometimes exaggerated, unprocessed, and even one-sided, so when a conflict is so multifaceted and its victims are radically different in their positions and memories, it is important to listen to all sides and see the whole picture. There is another problematic issue regarding editing and recording interviews, how we store and listen to these stories, what part we keep for ourselves and what we make public. Reflecting on this, the question of “why” seems to me the most relevant and decisive.
What are the negative consequences of such political instrumentalization of history for the peaceful transformation of conflicts, the building of a democratic society, and the restoration of justice?
Nino Kalandarishvili, Chair of the Board of the Institute for the Study of Nationalism and Conflicts.
It is quite difficult to talk about the history of the Georgian-Abkhaz and Georgian-South Ossetian conflicts. Moreover, we cannot even agree on the names of the parties involved in these conflicts, either with the other side or, no less importantly, with our own society. We cannot even agree on the starting point — whether from the 1990s, from 2008, from the civil war, or even from ancient times. Which period we feel more comfortable with, where we can more loudly heroize our own victims and not see the suffering of others, in order to disregard the state and trauma of those who bear that suffering. If the personal tragedy of someone on our side is important to us, what “great” goals are we achieving by generalizing and manipulating this tragedy?
Furthermore, how and why do we want to erase from the memory of people on the other side their tragedies, their traumas, their feelings, even their existence? Focusing on what has been experienced and endured, on the one hand, and manipulating tragedy for our own political relevance. Does this bring us closer to restoring justice? Restoring justice in the sense that is characteristic of democratic societies.
Since the campaign organized by “Tabula,” “European Georgia,” “Abkhaz Assembly,” and their supporting organizations is focused on the 1990s, it is worth emphasizing how harmful it is to intentionally mix concepts such as war crimes, ethnic cleansing, genocide, and the portrayal of aggressors, victims, and a faceless side through the manipulation of history. With a past that we and people on the other side of the conflict perceive differently, we cannot agree on it, we cannot talk about it, we cannot move it from the realm of debates and mutual accusations to a space for discussion.
Neither we, nor the Abkhaz, nor the Ossetians can do this, and, more importantly and significantly, we, Georgian society and the Georgian state, cannot or will not do this. We fear criticism, struggle with pseudo-dominant approaches, and confrontation with loud groups, without trying to hear the voices of people who do not shout, do not make noise, but remember, know, and need only a space to remember and judge. And so we lose the resource of peaceful approaches, the resource of reconciliation, and the remaining opportunities for conflict transformation.
Thus, we remain subjects of political manipulation, and by forgetting the past, we also forget that the instrumentalization of politics related to conflicts and its use for achieving narrow political goals rather than reconciliation is not a new phenomenon, even if it has played out several times before my generation. And has this ever approached the prospect of resolving the situation or at least alleviating it? On the contrary, the already limited opportunities for conflict resolution have been further reduced.
So precisely now, amid this artificially highlighted campaign, we need to discuss recent history, to talk about and study the recent past, but to talk about the past as it was, not as we have constructed it to fit our personal goals. Let’s delve into this, draw conclusions, and break the vicious cycle where we are sometimes cast as victims, sometimes as heroes, or even as objects of manipulation by those around us who master the art of political instrumentalization.
Medea Turashvili, researcher of peace and conflicts
Political instrumentalization of history and conflicts hinders the finding of common ground between societies torn apart by conflict, destroys unifying and peaceful narratives, and thus prolongs and deepens conflicts. It should be noted that political leaders or groups often deliberately use conflicts to enhance their legitimacy. They encourage polarization and even violence to create an existential threat from external forces, presenting themselves as saviors.
If we look back at the 1990s, the national movement and its leaders often emphasized the “antiquity of the Georgian nation,” “guests in our land,” the “Muslimization,” and “Tatarization” of Georgia. In contrast, Ossetian and Abkhaz nationalist discourses opposed Georgian nationalist discourse. The speeches of Abkhaz and Ossetian leaders were full of expressions like: “The enemy against us,” “Georgian imperialism,” “Georgian fascism,” “Saving our nation,” “Independence as a guarantee of ethnic survival,” etc.
It must be acknowledged that some individuals and leaders saw significant benefit in opposing the peoples living in Georgia. Many military commanders involved in the conflicts of the 1990s became political leaders after the war, and many are now recognized as national heroes in their societies. Understanding this should help us approach the campaigns and programs of political groups associated with the conflict with more suspicion.
Oversimplification and linear discussions related to the conflict and/or rejection of certain events creates the risk of failing to draw conclusions and the possible repetition of past mistakes. Despite the fact that the 1990s were an inspiring and proud period of independence, it was also a time of mistakes, radicalization, nationalism, and crimes. In the years 1990-1995, in just 5 years, Georgia experienced two ethnopolitical wars, one civil war, a military coup, economic collapse, the rise of the criminal world, the “Mkhedrioni,” etc. If we simplify the explanation of these events to the point of blaming only Russia, Georgian society will remain a powerless, voiceless, irresponsible mass with nothing to learn or understand.
Among the lessons unlearned are the refusal of dialogue and negotiations, surrender of power, disrespect for the rights of ethnic and religious groups, impunity, irresponsibility of authorities, and ignoring affected people.
This is why for many years Georgia has been unable to redistribute and decentralize power; increase government accountability, eliminate social and civil inequality, and pursue a peaceful policy based on human rights.
Even more dangerous is the use of history as a narrow political tool. The recent campaign “Before Bucha, there was Abkhazia” is a classic example of this. A political-social group without public support attempts to rehabilitate and increase its legitimacy using the most sensitive topic, as it is clear that it cannot offer another, more innovative and relevant topic for society.
The campaign is one-sided and misleading, inflames anger and hatred, ignores the victims, pain, and trauma of part of the population affected by the conflict, conceals mistakes and responsibility, and burns the bridge that could have opened up prospects for reaching out to Abkhaz and Ossetians. Interestingly, the authors of this campaign, while in power, did nothing to investigate even one crime committed during the war in Abkhazia or to pass a lustration law.
To break out of the vicious cycle of ignorance and disregard and to create the possibility of coexistence with Abkhaz and Ossetians, we must first study our recent history, the actions of heroes, and their role in fueling conflicts more thoroughly, and we must take responsibility for the mistakes made. We cannot reconcile with people whose existence and suffering we do not acknowledge. We cannot coexist with people with whom we have nothing in common and toward whom we harbor hatred.