An independent Georgia or a Tiflis governorate?
Today’s Georgia is a country of contradictions. While most of the population has come out in support of Ukraine, the country has experienced a great amount of migration from Russia since the war. This, combined with a government uncertain of its foreign policy, has made Georgia’s future all the more unclear.
Russian migrants have arrived in Georgia in two waves. The first wave took place in March 2022 right after Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine. The second wave took place in late September 2022, after Vladimir Putin announced “partial” mobilisation. They waited in long lines, often for hours, at the Larsi checkpoint. According to various data, there are between 70,000 to 200,000 Russians living in Georgia right now, some estimate that this figure is even higher.
February 15, 2023 -
Wojciech Wojtasiewicz
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Issue 1-2 2023MagazineStories and ideas
The Itaka bookshop opened long before the Russian aggression in Ukraine. It is located in an old and quite neglected building. You can enter it through a courtyard where the balcony is decorated with two flags: Ukrainian and the white-blue-white (Russian opposition) flag. Photo: Wojciech Wojtasiewicz
It seems that the Georgian authorities do not have full control over how many Russians have arrived in their country. The key question that emerges is why did they choose Georgia, where almost 20 per cent of the territory is occupied by Russia? Other questions also need to be asked, such as what is the reaction of the Georgians to these new residents of their state? And are these newcomers here to stay or will they return home once the war in Ukraine is over? Finally, what impact does this new Russian migration have on Georgia’s economy and security?
Walls speak
Upon my arrival in Tbilisi I notice a small boy at the airport who is greeting his family with a bouquet of yellow and blue flowers. On the next day as I take my first stroll into the city, I see many signs on the walls. A 20-minute walk from my friends’ flat to the central metro station, Rustaveli, is “decorated” with dozens of signs with anti-Russian and pro-Ukrainian slogans: f*** Russia, f*** Putin, Slava Ukraini, Ukraine is Georgia is Ukraine, Putin Khuylo. Ukrainian flags fly throughout the city; along the entirety of Rustaveli Avenue (Tbilisi’s main street) and in the old town.
This massive support for Ukrainians and their resistance against Russia contrasts with the large number of Russians whom you can meet on the streets of Georgia’s capital and in shops and restaurants. Russian can be heard everywhere. Even if you do not hear the language, you can tell – from the faces – who is Georgian and who is not. Some of those who are not are of course Belarusians or Ukrainians. They have also fled their countries due to the Russian aggression. They are also using Russian as their language of communication.
A recent survey by the International Republican Institute finds that 78 per cent of Georgians are against visa-free entry for Russians to Georgia, as well as giving them the opportunity to open up businesses and purchase real estate. Yet, despite that, cases of open aggression against Russians are rarely seen. In reality it is the opposite, it seems that in public, people sometimes even try to communicate with Russians in their language.

Photo: Wojciech Wojtasiewicz
High prices
Nevertheless, a sense of silent tension can be felt in the interactions between Georgians and Russians. Evidently, a majority of Georgians are not happy with the large number of Russians who have relocated to their country. Mainly because they still remember the 2008 Russian aggression and occupation of Abkhazia and the Tskhinvali region (the so-called South Ossetia). But they also experience a huge increase in prices, which is a result of the large migration of Russians to Georgia. Rent increases have been especially stressful for students who come from different cities and regions to study at one of Tbilisi’s many universities. In this academic year, many of them could not afford to rent a place, which is a problem in a country where public student housing is almost non-existent. Thus, the only beneficiaries of the increase in rent prices are landlords, who make up a small portion of the Georgian population.
Prices in restaurants are also very high. Compared to last year, prices have increased by almost 30 per cent. A simple khachapuri, for example, costs almost seven euros, and a similar price is charged for a simple cucumber and tomato salad. To make matters worse, there is the whopping 18 per cent unemployment rate, which is based on official government data. In reality, unemployment is much higher and hidden by a large number of those who are self-employed in agriculture or small businesses and who therefore do not have stable income.
At the same time, since March 2022 many Russians have started to become rooted in Georgia. They have been renting or buying flats, setting up businesses, and bringing their families to the country. Many ordinary Georgians, but also Georgian experts, believe this is happening because of the pro-Russian position of the current Georgian government. This is how Raba Osheinik, a Russian oppositionist living in Tbilisi, explained the situation to me: “At first you would think that the activities of the Georgian Dream government are in contrast to the plans of Vladimir Putin, who may not like the fact that his people are fleeing the mobilisation and moving to a neighbouring state. However, there are so many Russians that the Kremlin will have no problems in finding the 300,000 men to meet its mobilisation goals. Those who leave Russia are people whom the regime cannot count on anyways … they do not support the authorities. Yet, among them you can also find agents of influence who could get activated at a certain time and start raising the issue of the maltreatment of Russians in Georgia, that their rights are being breached. And this could be a pretext to start a military intervention here.”
Opposition in exile
As a result of the large inflow of Russians to Georgia, the cultural and food map of Tbilisi has changed. It now has many new places established and run by Russians. I visited a few of them, including some bookshops and bars but also some assistance and training centres. All of them are run by young people (aged 20 to 30) who had been in the opposition in Russia. Some of them had thought about leaving their country even before the full-scale invasion of Ukraine. The majority were also involved in some kind of assistance work for Ukrainian refugees.
The first place that I visited was a bookshop called “Dissident”. This name seems to be a bit of an exaggeration nonetheless. It is actually a book stand in the upper part of the Vake district. For the moment, there are not many books for sale there, but you can drink some coffee at a table outside. There I met 32-year-old Valentina who came from Tomsk and 21-year-old Fedya who came here from Moscow. They arrived in Tbilisi in March, right after the full-scale invasion. For a long time, they had been against Vladimir Putin’s regime and opposed the political system in Russia.
“Shortly after my arrival in Tbilisi I registered my firm here. It took me very little time. With state civil servants I communicated in English,” explains Valentina. When I asked them if they had encountered any reluctance on the part of ordinary Georgians, they said no.
“Georgians see a difference between the Russian authorities, whom they hate, and ordinary Russians. They do not cross us out because of our nationality,” Valentina says.
“We took part in a few anti-war demonstrations in Tbilisi. However, I must admit that few Russians participated. Many people are still afraid, even though they have already left Russia. They do not know if they will have to return to the country at some point, or not. If somebody saw their photo during protests, they could face serious problems,” Fedya adds. In addition to working in the bookshop to make ends meet, he also teaches online.
Fedya shows no mercy to today’s Russia: “Our state is weak. Special forces could not even effectively eliminate Alexei Navalny. The same is with our army. The regime was saying that Russia’s army is the second largest in the world, while in reality they cannot win against the Ukrainians and in fact our military is losing face.”
“The situation is really tragic,” Valentina adds. “The families of young boys who are mobilised and sent to the frontline are now buying clothes for them because the army has no money for that.” However, in her view the war is not to be won by the Russian side. A change needs to take place in the Kremlin. Putin will be removed from power and a new regime will come. Whether it will be better or worse, nobody knows today.
Neither of them knows how long they will stay in Georgia or whether they will be able to return home. They cannot say what their future will be like. They live day to day and remain in a state of limbo. “Ukrainians will hate us for a long time,” Valentina concludes. “I fear that I will never go to Kyiv in my life, even though I would really like to.”
Activism and entrepreneurship
As I leave the “Dissident” bookshop, I make my way to Rustaveli metro station. There I find more Russian places. One of them is a bookshop called “Auditoria”. It was opened by a group of Russian migrants only four months ago. On the shelves are mostly Russian-language books with a clear anti-regime message. In addition, the owners of the bookshop organise numerous meetings with specialists in different areas: history, medicine, astrophysics, or philosophy. Next door is a bar called “Easy Art”. Its windows are decorated with three flags – a Georgian flag, a Belarusian opposition (white-red-white) flag and a Ukrainian flag. Inside, I meet three Russians. One of them is the owner, while the other two are her employees. The bar has been operating for two months now. But it is more than a place where you can get something to eat or drink. It also acts as a sort of community centre. The locale offers yoga, English classes and thematic group meetings. The founder is a dark-skinned 27-year-old Russian woman from Moscow. She has been living in Georgia for a year and a half now. She decided to move here long before the war. She got to like Tbilisi when she came here on vacation. Her father comes from Congo, but he lived for many years in Paris. There he married a Russian woman and moved to Russia.

Photo: Wojciech Wojtasiewicz
“One of the reasons I decided to leave Russia was the discrimination I had experienced because of my skin colour. I was picked on in school … sometimes people were taking photos of me in the metro. I was treated as a weirdo,” she says, not wanting to reveal her name.
She has two employees: 24-year-old Katya from Krasnodar and 24-year-old Zhenya from St Petersburg. In addition to her work at the bar, Katya also makes money as an online English tutor. Zhenya, when he lived in Russia, worked as a manager for LPP, a Polish clothes producer and owner of the popular clothing chain “Reserved”. Once western sanctions were introduced against Russia, his company shut down operations.
“In Russia people do not know what democracy is all about. They are fearful. They think only about themselves and how to survive in unfavourable living conditions. That is why they are not protesting against the regime. The majority of the society is passive. They are under the influence of propaganda, even if they have access to other sources of information,” Katya says.
“Western sanctions are simply full of holes. Many western companies have returned to Russia and reopened their shops there, but under changed names,” Zhenya adds. He also notes that prices in Russia are much higher, “but they have been growing for many years now and people just became used to difficult living conditions”, he admits.
Katya and Zhenya say that they decided to come to Georgia because they could only afford to move to this country. Had their financial situation allowed them, they would have emigrated to the West. The advantage of moving to Georgia was that they could easily set up a business here.
The third Russian bookshop that I visited in Tbilisi is called “Itaka”. It was opened long before the Russian aggression in Ukraine. It is located in an old and quite neglected building. You can enter it through a courtyard, where you climb up a set of stairs. The balcony is decorated with two flags: Ukrainian and the white-blue-white (Russian opposition) flag. In the bookshop are books on various topics. Here I meet 25-year-old Yana, who is a Russian citizen of Ukrainian origin. She was born in a village near Mykolaiv. She left Ukraine when she was four and moved to Russia together with her parents.
“In our village unemployment was huge. All men were alcoholics. My mother forced my father to leave and look for work elsewhere,” she tells me. The last two years of her stay in Russia were spent in St Petersburg. There she participated in opposition protests and published anti-regime posts on social media. Professionally, she worked on projects for autistic children and in a school.
“Russia’s aggression in Ukraine divided my family as well. My mother believes Russian propaganda and talks about the Ukrainian Nazis. My father, on the other hand, is pro-Ukrainian. He speaks badly about the Russians. My grandparents and other relatives are still in Ukraine,” she says.
Yana arrived in Tbilisi in January, before the war. She also works for organisations helping Ukrainians. “Since the war started, I have participated in many activities aimed at helping Ukrainians. I am terrified seeing what has been taking place in Ukraine. I fear that there will be another wave of refugees, should the Russians continue to bomb electric power plants and there will be no heating or electricity in the winter,” she says.
Finding ways to help
After the visits to the bookshops, I go to a different part of Tbilisi’s old town. It is called Sololaki. I climb up its winding streets. In the end, I reach a building which is decorated with a white-blue-white flag. This is the headquarters of two organisations: “House” and “Emigration for Action”. Inside I find a small café and a few people working on their laptops. From time to time they make phone calls. Eavesdropping, I conclude that they are working for a distributor of medical products. I am approached by 28-year-old Danilo, who graduated from St Petersburg University with a degree in international relations. Back home he worked as a project coordinator for a German non-profit organisation. However, when his organisation was kicked out of Russia he moved to Tbilisi. Together with his friends he rented a place here and started helping Ukrainians.
“Our work is financed with donations. We don’t have any sponsors. To a large extent we collect medical products for Ukrainian refugees who came to Tbilisi, as well as Ukrainians who stayed in their country. By now, we have managed to process around 3,000 orders for medical products and some of these orders were quite large,” Danilo tells me.
In addition, Emigration for Action helped Russians escape after the partial mobilisation was announced. They would head to the Larsi border checkpoint, offer tea and provide brochures about Georgia. They include basic information about Georgia and its occupied territories, Abkhazia and Tskhinvali, but also about the police’s attitude towards citizens (which is different than in Russia) and some language advice, as for example to try to speak English or Georgian.
“For over a month we have also been running a shelter for Russians who had no money to rent a place in Tbilisi. Not all men who flee mobilisation are well off,” Danilo explains. “In addition, we organised many discussions on political, social and cultural topics and during these events we would collect money to support our activities, which are now coordinated by five people. We also work with dozens of volunteers. They are mostly Russian.”
Danilo fears that the conflict in Ukraine will last for a very long time. Mainly because Russia still has strong military reserves, in the form of people, financial resources and weapons which are necessary to continue the war.
“I would like to return to St Petersburg but only when it is safe,” he says as we finish our conversation. He then gives me a tour of the headquarters of “House”. In a large room, where discussions take place, we see a meeting of coordinators who are now planning their next activities. He then takes me downstairs, to the basement, to show me where medical supplies are stored.
Two blocks away is the “Koshini” bar, which I visit in the evening. Standing in front of it I can see the Trinity Cathedral and the monument of Mother Georgia all lit up. In the bar, which has an amazing view over Tbilisi, I meet 29-year-old Artem from St Petersburg. His look is intriguing. He has long hair and is dressed in a loose outfit, wearing large chains on his wrists. He arrived here two weeks after the war had started. However, earlier he was already planning to open a bar here. Many of his friends had moved to Georgia for political reasons. In St Petersburg he also worked in a restaurant and participated in many demonstrations against Putin’s regime.
“In the beginning there were six of us. Now in “Koshini” there are 20 people on the staff. This is a meeting place for Russians, Ukrainians and Belarusians who have escaped from their countries because of the Russian aggression. We would like this place to serve as a space for them where they could form a community,” Artem says.
“Koshini” and its people offer assistance to refugees and cooperate with various non-governmental organisations, including “Volunteers Tbilisi”. “Our cooperation with Georgians is more difficult. Serious problems emerge when my compatriots show their colonial superiority towards the Georgians, especially when they automatically start using the Russian language assuming that every Georgian knows it.” Artem is sceptical about the effectiveness of peaceful protests. He has had ten years of experience with them in St Petersburg and sees that they have brought no results. That is why he thinks that taking part in protest actions is a symbolic gesture, which may be of importance, but he prefers concrete activities, such as fundraising. He helps Ukrainians in Tbilisi, arranges accommodation for them and transfers them money for aid.
Hybrid regime
At the end of my stay in Tbilisi I met with some experts. The first one is Bidzina Lebanidze from the Georgian Institute of Politics (GIP) and Friedrich Schiller University of Jena. “The arrival of so many Russians to Georgia is clearly a politically hot topic. Many Georgians are not happy with what has been taking place in the last months. They remember all too well the 2008 Russian aggression. The trauma of this experience exists until today. Such a large inflow of Russian citizens to our country for sure has an impact on Georgia’s security,” he says as we chatted during an academic conference organised at the Tbilisi State University.
He also adds that the massive presence of Russians in Georgia has economic consequences. Initially, it gave an impulse to the Georgian economy, especially during the first refugee wave in March 2022. However, those who arrived at that time were mostly IT specialists. Their presence in Georgia had a positive effect on the country’s GDP. Conversely, the Russians who arrived in late September were those who had escaped from mobilisation. Quite often they had lower professional skills. Their limited financial resources have also dried up and now they are searching for jobs. And this is something that the Georgian state cannot provide them.
“Another negative consequence of the inflow of such large numbers of Russians is a huge increase in the cost of basic grocery products as well as an increase in rent in all large cities in Georgia,” he tells me. When asked why the Georgian government allowed for such a large inflow of Russians, Lebanidze pointed to two main factors. First, Georgian Dream is scared of any confrontation with Russia. Closing the borders would mean breaching the current policy of appeasing the neighbour to the north. Second, the Georgian government possibly saw economic benefits in the massive Russian migration.
At the end of the day, I head to the Georgian Foundation for Strategic and International Studies, which is located near the Georgian parliament. There I meet Giorgi Badridze, who is the former ambassador to Turkey and the United Kingdom.
“There are measurable indicators showing the impact of this large migration of Russians to Georgia. First, their arrival directly translates into inflation, especially the increase of basic products and rent in large cities. The Georgian government does not call these Russians migrants or refugees, but tourists. It compares the current numbers with the data from previous years when the number of real tourists from Russia was indeed large. However, back then tourists were coming to Georgia for a short time. They would spend money here and go back home. This time Russians do not know when they will be able or will want to go back. Many of them do not plan to return at all,” Badridze explains. He also added that the arrival of so many Russians was possible thanks to the visa-free regime which was introduced by the previous government to attract foreign tourists to Georgia. However, the circumstances have changed with the full-scale invasion of Ukraine. Thus, Badridze is of the opinion that Georgia may follow the steps of Belarus when Russia was using it to find ways to avoid western sanctions. Maintaining the current liberal policy at the border, also regarding the transport of goods, shows the real intensions of the Georgian Dream government. This is the policy of not irritating Russia.
“To understand this policy we need to look at the political system that we currently have in Georgia,” Badridze argues. “In the previous decade Georgia was labelled as a hybrid regime, meaning one that is not fully democratic, but rather going in the democratic direction. And this is how Georgia’s system is described even today. However, today the situation is different, as Georgia is going in the opposite direction. The majority of institutions and politicians from the ruling camp are not accountable to their voters but to one man – Bidzina Ivanishvili. All of them work for this one individual. And his main goal is to maintain power, while Mikhail Saakashvili’s goal was Georgia’s integration with the West. Thus for Ivanishvili it would be best if Georgia disappeared from the international radar. As he stressed that Georgia should not be an object of dispute between the West and Russia.”
Badridze adds that if Georgia stops being present on the international scene, it will become an easy target for Russia’s imperial aspirations. The oligarch’s interests are in direct contrast with Georgia’s national interests. Evidently, a state that is poor and whose people are leaving it to find employment elsewhere, is much easier and cheaper to control.
And there is one more serious issue Badridze raises. “The arrival of Russians not only brings social and economic problems, but is also a threat to Georgia’s security. Let me remind you that Crimea was also taken over by soldiers who arrived there as ‘tourists’,” he says.
At the end of our talk, Badridze outlines some really bleak scenarios for Georgia. In his view, the country’s “oligarchisation” will only increase as will Georgia’s dependence on Russia. Thus, it is unlikely that Georgia will receive candidate status for the EU because its government is not fulfilling the requirements.
Bleak outlook
After the meeting, I take the steep Chitadze Street and turn onto Rustaveli Avenue. In front of the parliament building I see a small group of people with Georgian and Ukrainian flags. They are also holding photographs of Saakashvili and Putin. They tell me that they are protesting the war in Ukraine, Russian migration and calling for the release of the former president of Georgia. The group is very small indeed. It shows to me that the majority of Georgians have come to terms with the new reality and focus on their lives.
Formally, Georgia is an independent state. Officially its aim is integration with the European Union and NATO. In 2014 it signed an EU Association Agreement which included a Deep and Comprehensive Free Trade Agreement. In reality, however, the country faces numerous crises. Georgian politics is also deeply polarised. The opposition accuses the ruling party of electoral fraud. Georgian Dream arrests opposition leaders. Georgian voters are tired of both sides.
The economic problems in the country continue to get worse. The Georgian economy was first hit hard by the pandemic and now by the large inflow of Russians which generates inflation. The economic problems and visa-free travel to the EU explain why many Georgians have decided to move to Europe to find work. Some of them will not come back, which will contribute to the depopulation of the country.
Georgia’s NATO membership perspective is also quite remote. EU integration was more realistic, but when the window of opportunity was unexpectedly opened after Russia’s full-scale invasion, Ukraine and Moldova used it skilfully while Georgia lost momentum. There are no indications that the Georgian government has been able to fulfil the 12 recommendations that were outlined for it by the European Commission to achieve candidate status, even though the government argues it has.
Georgia does not maintain formal diplomatic ties with Russia; yet, the idea of the reintegration of Abkhazia and Tskhinvali is a political fiction. The Georgian authorities are doing everything they can in order not to annoy Moscow. This has resulted in the termination of such projects as the Anaklia deep sea port, which could have strengthened Georgia economically and geopolitically. Ivanishvili and Georgian Dream are accused by the opposition and some parts of the expert community of being pro-Russian, which is not necessarily unfounded.
It certainly seems that Georgia is no longer interested in reforms aimed at integration with the West. From today’s perspective, this is a poor country drifting into Russia’s sphere of influence. It is thus more justified to fear that it will turn into something like the historical Tiflis Governorate and not become a wealthy Caucasian Switzerland, with little prospect of a breakthrough on the horizon.
I spent my last evening in the house of my Georgian friend who lives on the outskirts of Tbilisi – in the depressing Soviet-era district of Vazisiubiani. His mother offers us some Georgian treats and we enjoy a nice and warm family atmosphere. However, at a certain point, our conversation moves to international matters.
“Things will only get worse. I am expecting that prices will continue to grow. Already now I am counting every lari and am not buying many products in the shops,” my friend’s mother tells me. “I fear another war and that Russian tanks will again come to Georgia. When I am thinking about the atrocities that took place in Bucha or Irpin, I get goose bumps all over.” Let us hope she is wrong.
Wojciech Wojtasiewicz is a Polish journalist and regular contributor to the Polish Nowa Europa Wschodnia. He has been published in Polityka, Krytyka Polityczna, Newsweek Polska, Onet and Open Democracy, among others.




































