Running through an eerie blue fog, I darted into a church just across from Georgia’s parliament building on Rustaveli Avenue. Masked riot police were chasing protesters through clouds of tear gas. It clings to your lungs and makes every breath a struggle.
Inside, people rinsed each other’s eyes with saline eyewashes to stop the burning. But police exploded more gas canisters at the doors of the church — a symbol of sanctuary during the 1989 anti-Soviet protests — and it too started to fill with smoke. I thought, “I shouldn’t have entered this enclosed space”. But stepping outside meant risking arrest.
“Where is the Church? Where is the Patriarch?” a man shouted at the bewildered priests, who were also beginning to gasp. Earlier that day, the Georgian Patriarchate, a key ally of the ruling party, had called for both sides to refrain from violence. Other protesters quickly intervened, trying to calm the man down.
That scene on Sunday — the fourth consecutive day of protests in the capital — reflected the newly impassioned political fractures within Georgia, pitting a government consolidating power through force against demonstrators saying no.
On Nov. 28, the government, controlled by the Georgian Dream party, had announced it would delay its bid for membership in the European Union until at least 2028. The people who have taken to the streets see this as a retreat from Georgia’s pro-European aspirations by an increasingly autocratic party with ties to Russia. The demonstrations have been massive — involving tens of thousands of people — and, more important, spontaneous. Despite days of arrests and beatings, the protests continue unabated. And they have spread from the capital to smaller cities.
It’s a dramatic escalation from the initial response to the Oct. 26 parliamentary elections, which were condemned by the European Parliament and decried as fraud by domestic critics. But whatever the extent of government misconduct, the opposition appears to have failed to galvanize people to turn out to vote. The subsequent rallies protesting the irregularities were also low-energy.
Perhaps emboldened by all this, Georgian Dream has been pushing its advantage. The government’s delay of E.U. membership aspirations almost looks as though it is calculated to test the public’s resolve. But the ruling party might have underestimated the depth of the people’s frustration and their commitment to a Western future.
Integration into the E.U. and NATO has long been seen by Georgians as a beacon of hope — offering the possibility of economic opportunity, security and a break from the shadow of Russian influence. Surveys consistently show that more than 80 percent of Georgians support joining the E.U. Georgian Dream’s pivot away from the E.U. is especially galling given the party’s own campaign rhetoric. Ahead of October’s elections, it promised to guide Georgia toward European integration “with dignity”. Many view the government’s actions as a betrayal of that pledge and demonstration of its ultimate goal to bring the country closer to Russia.
However, since the beginning of the war in Ukraine, the government has used public fears to maintain its hold on power. Prime Minister Irakli Kobakhidze has portrayed the opposition as reckless and the West as manipulative — accusing them of pressuring Georgia to open a “second front” against Russia. This understandably stoked public anxiety and was, for a time, a winning strategy. Memories of Russia’s invasion in 2008 remain vivid, and Russian forces still occupy 20 percent of Georgia’s territory. That strategy kept protesters wary — until the declaration on Nov. 28.
So far, the current protests lack a leader or organized movement; there’s no podium and there are no addresses, just shared anger. This is an organic uprising. Opposing political parties are not a factor. Independently, many Georgian government employees have resigned or signed letters of opposition since Nov. 28, and some business leaders have come out in the open to condemn Georgian Dream’s move.
There’s a feeling of existential urgency among the protesters. If Georgian Dream manages to suppress this wave of dissent, demonstrators say it would be emboldened to further crack down on civil society, independent media and political opposition. Those standing on the streets of Tbilisi feel as though this is the final fight for the country’s future.
The Biden administration took some steps ahead of the elections, including visa bans against some 60 Georgian individuals, accusing them of having “undermined fundamental freedoms”. U.S. sanctions against Bidzina Ivanishvili, the billionaire founder of Georgian Dream, have reportedly been drafted in response to the government passing a repressive “foreign agents” law targeting civil society — a law modeled on similar Russian measures, but that has not been put in place.
But small steps and threatened sanctions have failed to deter the government. The Georgian Dream grew convinced that whatever it did would be tolerated by the West. The government has even said that it hopes to strike a deal with the incoming Trump administration. Meanwhile, Western inaction is frustrating many Georgians who feel abandoned and isolated.
Back at the barricades in front of Parliament on Tuesday, with tear gas once again thick in the air, I asked some protesters about the West’s role.
“Americans have not done enough”, Giorgi, a man in his 30s, told me. “Partly because they are waiting to see if we will fight for our independence. We are doing our part. We will fight until the end”.
“This government has stripped the people not only of political freedoms, but of national freedom”, Nia, 19, added. “These are Russified Georgians — we are fighting with Russians on Georgian territory”.
Ani Chkhikvadze is a journalist from Georgia.