Deadlock in 'Cell City'

More notes on the continuing opposition protests here in Georgia, from my column in The Moscow Times:

The struggle for power in Georgia is now in its fourth week, with parts of the capital, Tbilisi, under constant blockade. The opposition has established what it calls a ‘city of cells’ – hundreds of imitation prison cells, built from steel bars, rope and polythene sheeting – to seal off roads outside parliament, the presidential residence, and the state television channel. Opposition leaders say the cells, which symbolise the alleged authoritarianism of President Mikheil Saakashvili’s regime, will stay until the Georgian leader steps down. Saakashvili isn’t about to do that, so activists are settling in for war of attrition.

One strange thing about the ‘city of cells’, however, is how few people actually live in it. Daily rallies are poorly-attended, usually attracting a couple of thousand protesters, but far fewer are dedicated enough to brave the elements day and night for their cause. Their encampment also doesn’t have the flamboyant creativity of the tent city in Kiev during Ukraine’s ‘Orange Revolution’ in 2004, or the courageous urgency of the youth activist camp which held out briefly but defiantly for a few days after disputed elections in repressive Belarus in 2006. For most of the time, the serene atmosphere on the near-deserted streets of central Tbilisi is more like a public holiday than a political uprising.

But the cell-dwellers genuinely believe that they’re engaged in a battle of good against evil. A middle-aged man called Lado, who travelled from the Black Sea region of Adjara to join the protests, said he was once a Saakashvili supporter during the optimistic early days of his presidency.

“I was enthusiastic about Misha – he was clever, good-looking, the youngest president in Europe,” he recalled. “I hoped the world would love him.” After a series of flawed elections and last year’s disastrous war with Russia, that hope is long gone, Lado said ruefully: “I’m not motivated by personal hatred,” he insisted. “Misha just didn’t do the right thing.”

Another middle-aged man, Gela, said this was an all-or-nothing struggle for the nation’s future. “If this protest ends in failure, we are lost,” he argued. “There is no other choice left. We have no way back.”

This kind of rhetoric illustrates why compromise has been so hard to find. Opposition leaders simply don’t trust Saakashvili, and say they’ll settle for nothing less than his resignation. The administration, which has allowed the protests to continue to prove that Georgia is democratic, can’t now remove the cells without appearing oppressive. With the situation in stalemate, each side awaits the other’s next move.