‘These regions are not under the control of the central government,’ reads a warning on a map of Georgia in the bustling centre of Tbilisi. ‘Travelling to these regions is not advisable.’ One of these regions is Abkhazia, only a few hours’ drive away. The other is South Ossetia, barely an hour from here. Since 2008 both have been occupied by Russian troops, in defiance of the Georgian government, yet here in the Georgian capital tourism is booming, and many of these tourists are Russians.
This neat irony encapsulates what makes Tbilisi such a fascinating city, a looking-glass metropolis in which nothing is quite what it seems. EU flags fly alongside Georgian flags outside (and inside) government buildings, not because Georgia is a member of the EU, but because it wants to be. Likewise, when I visited this year the lampposts were festooned with Nato banners — not because Georgia is a member but because it wants to join.
Georgia is a Eurasian no-man’s land, stranded between East and West. It’s always looked towards Europe but Russia has hugged it closer. The Tsars colonised Georgia, and (after a brief period of independence) so did the Soviets. When the USSR fell apart the Georgians regained their sovereignty, but Russia was loathe to let them go. Georgia sought Nato membership to keep the Russian bear at bay, but the last thing Putin wants is a new Nato member on his southern border. The Russian-backed separatist movements in Abkhazia and South Ossetia allow him to keep Georgia close. Nato can’t grant Georgia membership while Russian troops remain on Georgian soil, so, for the foreseeable future, those troops are here to stay.
I’d come to observe a Nato exercise, led (for the first time) by the Georgians, in which Georgian forces were working alongside troops from members including Britain.
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