I left off the story after a failed attempt to get past the last check point and cross into South Ossetian controlled territory with a Georgian TV crew that lacked official clearance to go there.
It was time for plan B. We were going to try to get to the site of protests andskirmishes last week. The story goes like this. Georgians are trying to build a road that connects two Georgian controlled-villages, one of which theoretically lies within South Ossetia. This bypass road would allow Georgian villagers to maintain a lifeline with the ‘mainland’, while avoiding the need to pass through Ossetian villages. Amid South Ossetian protests against the building of the road, Russian peace-keepers intervened and blocked construction works until the two sides would reach an agreement. The Georgians naturally saw the peace-keepers’ action as further proof of collusion with Ossetians. Georgian villagers reacted by staging a protest against the peace-keepers, throwing paint and gas at the soldiers. This incident was one of the first of a series of minor shootings, grenade attacks, leading to increased fears that the worst was yet to come.
The road building site was, in fact, a strip of gravel winding for a few kilometers through an extremely scenic landscape of green hills and valleys. Driving down the road, we notice occasional excavators and trucks with workers heading home after a day of work, a sign that the road construction still continues.
Then we notice, in the bushes next to the road, a heavy tank flying the Russian flag surrounded by soldiers. At this point, I am unsure on which side of what checkpoint or territory we are, so I get a bit apprehensive. The TV crew decides to stop the Niva and get out to talk to the tank commander, a red-faced Russian soldier. The talk is short and quite calm, which can only be a good thing. Surprisingly, shortly after, the tank revves the engine and storms out of the site, down on the road. Apparently our presence was enough to scare off the Russians. Maybe we could end the conflict and still make it back to Tbilisi in time for drinks?
Following the road, we reach a group of Georgian villagers working on the field. They seem quite happy to talk to us, and complain that they haven’t been able to get to the field in days. They are unhappy about the road construction being stopped and avow having attended the protests against the Russians. When asking them about their view of the Ossetians, they tell us they grew up together with them, have relatives who are Ossetians. The older generation of Ossetians speaks Georgian, they say, but the youth only speak Russian. When asking them what is the main cause of the conflict, they reply without hesitation that it is the Russians. The head of the family seems confident that the departure of the Russian troops would solve the conflict, whereas the wife seems less convinced and adds that the situation will take time to solve.
Following the road, we finally reach ‘ground zero’, where road building seems to end. This is the site of protests yesterday. The importance of the spot is marked by the presence of three Russian tanks and – surprise – a massive war machine flying the flag of St. George (in case you were wondering, it wasn’t the English!).
The Georgians come speak to us. We ask them what they are doing there. They reply that they are criminal police. I then ask them if they are chasing criminals around the hills of South Ossetia (to my defense, I had heard complaints on the Georgian side of criminals seeking haven in Ossetian-controlled territory). Unsurprisingly, the ‘policeman’ doesn’t find my remark funny and retorts that, since this is Georgian territory, they can do whatever the hell they please.
We are told that if we follow the ‘non-road’ down the hill, we will reach a Georgian village. The valley is full of patrols, on foot or tucked in vans, old ladas or red BMW’s with tinted windows (I must point out that the latter were the local police – not to be confused with the criminal police, which uses T72 tanks instead of the more flimsy BMW).
The main street is full of villagers. We approach a middle-aged woman who is filling a water bucket. She is half Ossetian and gives us the same story of people living together. Although Ossetian and Georgian traditions vary, she says, they become more alike when people live together. David and the crew then talk to a group of men, camera off. The men, I later find out , fought in the 1990s and now are very adamant about claiming the land as their own. They want to fight again and don’t seem very open to compromise. There seems to be a marked difference in people’s statements when they are filmed.
Night is falling and we are running out of time. The Niva is again on the road, trying to reach a part of the village inhabited by Ossetians. A group of policemen give us directions and tell us to watch out for Ossetians. We follow an unlit road some hundred meters. Everybody falls silent, and tension is almost palpable.
After a brisk exchange of words among the crew, the Niva comes to a sudden halt. The driver then makes a sudden U-turn and starts driving back. “What happened?” I ask. “We could see Ossetian militiamen down the road. It is not so safe now, because they may take us to Tskhinvali…” His smile is somewhat forced and, for the first time, I start realizing that the area is somewhat more than a military parade grounds.
No comments:
Post a Comment