Geopolitical
significance of the North Caucasus for Georgia
From a geopolitical perspective, the North Caucasus – or more precisely
the territory densely populated by the various North Caucasus peoples – is
unquestionably of interest to Georgia,
and for two reasons. Firstly, some parts of North
Caucasus are ethnically
homogenous withAbkhazia and South Ossetia -, two countires to which Georgia has
always felt and probably always will feel it has a claim. Secondly, it forms a
natural barrier between Georgia
and the Russian Federation
proper (i.e. the portion of Russia
inhabited by ethnic Russians), which for most Georgian politicians is the power
that poses the greatest threat to Georgia.
Georgia’s
relations with the peoples of the North Caucasus
are highly complex, but geopolitical factors are clearly the Georgian
administration’s prime concern. Put simply, Georgia
is always thinking about the North Caucasus
both in terms of the potential consequences of a conflict with them and in
terms of the advantages of an alliance with them.
If we accept that the Caucasian
peoples form a single “super-ethnos”,
the idea of an alliance between the Georgians and the North
Caucasus nations makes complete sense.
Over the last two decades, Georgian politicians have dithered between making
common cause with the North Caucasus against Moscow or neutralising its “destructive”
influence on Abkhaz and South Ossetian issues. Georgia’s three successive
presidents have attempted to address the problem, each in his own way and with
varying degrees of success. Zviad Gamsakhurdia approached it directly by
promoting the idea of a “Caucasian Home” even before he came to power. This was
a straightforward plan to unify the Caucasus, preferably around Georgia, which was keen to gain the support of
its neighbours and avoid becoming isolated as it fought to secede from the USSR. By taking
every opportunity to recall the tragic details of the Caucasian War and its
aftermath, Georgia hoped to persuade the peoples of the Caucasus, who with few
exceptions had suffered huge privations during that war, to act as a buffer
zone to offset Georgia’s military and (due to its ethnic and national
diversity) political vulnerability.
In the early 1990s, however, Georgia’s only allies were Azerbaijan and Chechnya. Georgia discovered that any anti-Russian
sentiment in the North Caucasus was more than
outweighed by anti-Georgian feeling. As a result, when Georgia attempted to
resolve the Ossetian issue by force in 1991, public figures in the North Caucasus
turned from reminiscing about the activities of the Tsarist generals Yermolov
and Baratinsky, and began to recall more recent periods of Stalinist
deportations and Georgian annexations.
By contrast, the reinstatement of the Mountain Republic
(or the Republic of the Union of Mountain Peoples of the Caucasus), which had
been proclaimed in the region in 1918–1919, enjoyed far greater popularity in
the North Caucasus at the time. Although it
had only had an ephemeral existence, it appeared far more attractive to the North Caucasians than the utopian Caucasus Home project.
In the early 1990s, radical politicians in the Caucasus had not yet ruled out
the possibility that Russia
might collapse from within. Few people in the North Caucasus were calling for military
action against Moscow; the attention of those
backing reinstatement of the Mountain Republic was directed elsewhere, at Turkey or the
Islamic countries. Whichever of these they chose, they were all clear about two
aspects. Firstly, the Mountain Republic had to be a federal entity (the
Confederation of the Peoples of the Caucasus,
which was an active political force from 1991 to 1994, had only been partly
successful). Secondly, a Federation of the North Caucasus
would need its own corridor to the outside world and the best, if not only,
candidate for this was Abkhazia. If it were to fulfil this function, Abkhazia
would have to be politically independent. However, at that time, Georgia was
conducting an unremittingly unitarian policy. Therefore, while it might allow
Abkhazia to retain its autonomous status, it would not permit Abkhazia to
establish official relations at state level with the republics of the North Caucasus.
Geopolitically, then, conflict between Georgia
and the North Caucasus was inevitable. The
only question was whether it would be transformed into a military conflict.
Growing rift with
the North Caucasus and Russia
After Gamsakhurdia was toppled and Eduard Shevardnadze
came to power in 1992, there was an almost total rift between Georgia and the North Caucasus community. The Georgia-Chechnya alliance
was revoked, to be replaced by implacable hostility amid Georgian outrage at
the Chechens’ determined efforts to restore Gamsakhurdia to power in Georgia right
up to his demise. At the same time, the new outbreak of war in South Ossetia in
May to June 1992 saw the Confederation of the Peoples of the Caucasus
springing to the military defence of the Ossetians. When war subsequently broke
out in Abkhazia, Caucasian stock fell even further in Georgia, with Circassian,
Vainakh and Dagestani volunteers now portrayed by the Georgian side as
aggressors and, in many cases, hirelings of Moscow or the Islamic world. The
idea of a “Caucasian Home” clearly had to be abandoned. This trend continued even
after the end of the Georgian-Abkhaz war and continued throughout
Shevardnadze’s rule.
Georgian politicians, of course, continued as before
to look for friends in the North Caucasus,
hoping at least to erode the military and political assistance provided by the
Caucasians to Abkhazia. The Balkarians (during their brief conflict with the
Kabardinians) and the Ingush (in their rather longer conflict with the
Ossetians) became allies of the Georgians for tactical reasons. However, the
Georgians were not the most important allies for these peoples, and these
nations were too small to have any major impact on the situation around
Abkhazia which in any case they were clearly very reluctant to do.
Up to 1994, the Georgians saw the North
Caucasus as a victorious enemy. Every time tension rose in
Abkhazia, the Confederation and other political organisations in the North
Caucasus would issue dire warnings to Tbilisi.
At the time, with its army defeated and decimated, Georgia could not be sure that it
would be victorious in any new military campaign against Abkhazia. This
situation improved slightly for the Georgians after the start of the Chechen
War in December 1994, when the military action unleashed by the Russian army
siphoned off many of the volunteers who had fought on the Abkhaz side in the
previous war. The Confederation of Peoples of the Caucasus
failed to call on the Caucasian peoples to fight alongside the insurgents, or
even to act as an intermediary in the conflict. This led to it becoming a spent
political force.
During the first Chechen campaign (1994–1996), Georgia,
weakened by the Georgian-Abkhaz war, adopted a markedly pro-Russian stance. At
the time, Tbilisi was very interested in an
alliance with Moscow, and made no attempt to
make common cause with the North Caucasus against Moscow. It continued to blame the peoples of
the North Caucasus for Georgia’s
loss of Abkhazia, which coloured its entire attitude to them.
The first cracks appeared in 1995–1998, with President
Shevardnadze’s dismissal of pro-Russian members of the security forces (Igor
Georgadze, Shota Kviraya and Vardiko Nadibaidze). Later on, during the second
Chechen campaign, Shevardnadze did not, as before, provide assistance to Russia against
the Ichkerian insurgents. Under the Istanbul Agreements of 1999, Tbilisi also secured the
removal of Russian bases from Georgian territory. After the Chechen divisions
were defeated, Georgia
provided them to all intents and purposes with a base in the Pankisi Gorge.
This was seized on as a pretext for a decisive cooling in Georgia-Russia
relations, although the actual reasons lay elsewhere. Firstly, Georgia was
already stronger, having overcome its political and (to some extent) its
economic crisis, so that it no longer needed Russian support. Secondly, the
Chechen war had for some time distracted Moscow’s
attention from Georgian affairs; it not only neutralised Chechnya as a force that might provide
assistance to the Abkhaz, but also turned the Ichkerians into a real ally for Georgia. In the
autumn of 2001, the Chechen field commander Ruslan Gelayev, who had fought
against the Georgians in Abkhazia in 1992–1993, crossed into Abkhazia through
the Georgian-controlled Kodor Gorge. For some time, this posed a serious threat
to the republic and even the capital of Abkhazia. Georgia,
which understood that the Chechen war was weakening Russia, was only too happy to offer
the insurgents refuge on its territory. In 2002–2003, Moscow’s behaviour towards Shevardnadze
became openly hostile. Despite this, there was still no sign of a warming of
relations between the North Caucasus and Georgia.
Victory in the Abkhaz war did not bring about the
realisation of the Caucasus radicals’ pre-war
plans of the 1990s. The Russian Federation
was clearly not about to collapse, and Moscow
was in fact prepared to wage all-out war to retain the North
Caucasus. It was also clear that any assistance the countries of
the Islamic world could provide to the insurgents both economically and
politically would be far less than previously thought. At the same time, the
participation of Caucasian volunteers in the Georgian-Abkhaz war demonstrated
clearly that the peoples of the North Caucasus were capable of conducting an
independent policy, something that Moscow
could not ignore. Abkhaz independence had now become a point of honour for the
Caucasians and its existence was a symbol of Caucasian unity. Tbilisi
could not expect any step change in sentiment throughout the North Caucasus,
including Chechnya, which
had been re-incorporated into the Russian Federation following the
suppression of the insurgency.
New political
initiative underway in Georgia
Mikheil Saakashvili’s accession in 2003 appeared to open up new
prospects for Georgia in its
search for allies on the other side of the Caucasus
mountains. Saakashvili immediately began openly espousing the
slogans of Zviad Gamsakhurdia. The lynchpins of Georgia’s
ideology were now active opposition to Moscow,
alliance with NATO and support for all anti-Russian forces in the Caucasus. Saakashvili’s initial successes – subduing
Adjaria in 2004, painlessly occupying the Kodor Gorge in Abkhazia in 2006 –
revived hopes of a new resurgence in Georgia. The Georgian
administration’s main concern continued to be regaining control of Abkhazia and
South Ossetia. Since by this time both
countries had declared full independence, this could only be achieved by force.
Tbilisi was of course fully aware that the North
Caucasus would respond negatively to any military action by Georgia against
Abkhazia. However, the Georgians were hoping to carry out a rapid operation and
to present all their neighbours, including Russia
and the North Caucasus, with a fait accompli.
Prior to August 2008, Georgia
had no need for complex political alliances: since they were counting on a blitzkrieg, the Georgians undertook no political attempts to neutralise
potential allies of Abkhazia or South Ossetia.
Georgian politicians did recall the Circassian genocide, but only briefly, with
no attempt to politicise the issue. It was not at all clear until the very last
minute what the scope and extent of Russian intervention in the conflict might
be and whether it would limit itself to providing indirect assistance, which
would be too little to save Abkhazia and South Ossetia.
The events of August 2008 provided the answer to many questions. They showed,
firstly, that the Caucasus remained extremely important for Moscow, and the Russian administration was
not only unwilling to cede it, but would even consider full-scale military
action to reinforce its position. Secondly, the events showed that Caucasian
solidarity remained firm (as was shown by the concerted action taken by the
Abkhaz and the Ossetians, and by the revival of the North
Caucasus volunteer movement). Moscow
exploited the sentiment among the residents of the North Caucasus, one
particular example being its recruitment of a Chechen battalion for the war in South Ossetia. Russia
thus engineered a repeat of the situation in 1992, with a Chechen division once
again participating in a war against Georgia (it is important to
remember that many of Ramzan Kadyrov’s fighters had started out as supporters
of Dzhokhar Dudayev). It also showed it was too early for the Georgians to
count on active assistance being provided by the West. The Georgian
administration realised that it needed a new strategy, primarily a political
one. It was these circumstances that became the launchpad for a new Georgian
initiative.
However, these were not the only reasons why the
Georgian Parliament passed its Decree recognising the genocide of the
Circassian people on 20th May 2011. Foreign policy activity traditionally
increases on the eve of scheduled elections in Georgia,
and the political situation in Tbilisi
is such that a change of government appears likely at the end of the 10-year
cycle. Mikheil Saakashvili’s political skills have enabled him to deal with a
succession of crises; the Georgian president has consistently dismissed threats
to his authority – from Zurab Zhvaniya, then Nino Burdjanadze and later from
Badri Patarkatsishvili. Today, however, a promising new candidate has emerged
in the person of Bidzana Ivanishvili. Saakashvili is trying to raise his
approval rating by launching new political initiatives. Throughout all three
Georgian presidents’ rule – Gamsakhurdia, Shevardnadze and Saakashvili – the
Georgian administration has traditionally directed public attention to external
problems to weaken support for the opposition. On this occasion, the Circassian
issue is being used for this purpose.
Changing nature
of the Caucasus situation
The last few years have seen a change in the situation
in the Caucasus. In the first place, Russia’s recognition of the independence of
Abkhazia and South Ossetia, its deployment of a major contingent of Russian
troops on their territory, and a series of official agreements concluded
between Moscow, Sukhum and Tskhinval have
significantly reduced Georgia’s
prospects of resolving the conflict by military means. This may, at first
sight, suggest that any attempts by Georgia
to loosen Russia’s
grip on the republics of the North-Western Caucasus are unlikely to be very
successful.
On the other hand, Tbilisi
cannot fail to have noted some evolution in sentiment in the North
Caucasus. This is evidenced by the escalation in tension in the
second half of the 2000s, not only in Dagestan
and Ingushetia, but also in hitherto peaceful republics such as
Karachaevo-Cherkessia and Kabardino-Balkaria. Terrorism has become apparent in
these republics, with a number of armed groups emerging or becoming active in
ways that undoubtedly lead to destabilisation. This is not to say that the
Adyghe peoples never caused Moscow
any problems earlier; however, those problems were of an entirely different
order. One example was the most active expression of protest to date in
Kabardino-Balkaria against Russian authority – mass demonstrations by the
Kabardinians in late October and early November 1992. These were prompted by Moscow’s attempts to restrict the movement of volunteers
from the Confederation of the Peoples of the Caucasus,
who were coming to the assistance of Abkhazia against the Georgian army. These
popular protests forced the Russian administration to give up its plans.
However, it must be emphasised that the Kabardinians’ protests were not specifically
anti-Russian and even more importantly were not intended to destabilise the
situation. Once Moscow
found an acceptable means of settling the conflict by freeing the leader of the
Confederation, who had been arrested, and stopping the pursecution of the
volunteers, the conflict died down almost immediately.
Things were quite different in the North
Caucasus in 1992. During the Georgian-Abkhaz war, politicians and
the public in most republics were gripped by an almost romantic fervour, which
was the inspiration for the numerous volunteers who went to fight for Abkhazia.
In those years, even the most acute problems seemed at least surmountable, if
not entirely capable of resolution. Although the North Caucasus was also
affected by the severe consequences of the collapse of the Soviet
Union (with the economic downturn, a rise in criminality and
social deprivation affecting the majority of the population), the general
feeling on the ground was that things were improving. Compared with the general
picture of destabilisation in the neighbouring regions – and particularly in Georgia itself, as it teetered for many years on
the brink of total financial and economic ruin – the situation in the North Caucasus seemed far from the worst, and the quality
of life appeared to be entirely acceptable. It was only as time went on that
the North Caucasians (particularly the younger
generation) began to feel dissatisfied. No particular prospect of economic
development emerged in the region, and domestic problems began to increase, in
particular terrorism, which affected literally the entire population of the Caucasus republics.
Opinions are divided over the forces that lay behind
the armed confrontations, which became an everyday reality in the second half
of the 2000s in Kabardino-Balkaria and Karachaevo-Cherkessia, not to mention
the formerly peaceful North Ossetia or Dagestan.
Some see these events as the result of the spread of Islamist ideology and the
penetration of emissaries of radical groups from the Middle
East. Others point to the links between the Islamic underground
and the criminal world, explaining the Russian security forces’ inability to
impose order in terms of failures of intelligence, a lack of understanding of
the Caucasus mentality and the direct interests
of some Russian officials in prolonging instability. Experts from a number of
countries have been studying these processes without as yet coming to a
consensus view, although one conclusion is clear: the existence of active armed
groups and the powerlessness of the local society (not to mention the Federal
centre) indicates that society is in crisis, both socio-economically and
spiritually. The situation is steadily deteriorating and the cause is most
likely to be found not so much in a regional crisis, but in a general lack of
political sustainability across the whole of the Russian Federation.
One way or another, the political activity of the
Circassian political organisations is beginning a transition to a new phase.
Back in the 1990s, it fit entirely within Moscow’s rather inchoate (and thus
relatively lax) unwritten world view, which allowed the Caucasians space to
pursue their distinctive national way of life and also to support Abkhazia,
irrespective of the official position of the global community and even the
Kremlin itself. Today, any movement towards radicalisation by the new
generation of Caucasian politicians is a source of irritation for Moscow. In these new
tendencies, Moscow sees clear threats to its
control over the Caucasus region, particularly
since it has no ready-made solution to the mounting problems.
The level of political tension in the North Caucasus
is thus already quite high, even without Georgia’s
initiatives, and Tbilisi’s
role in raising the Circassian question may be considered entirely modest.
Indeed, the casual observer might well wonder why the politicians in Tbilisi focused on the Circassian people’s tragedy but
passed over the fate of the other peoples of the North
Caucasus in the 19th century. When two dozen Circassian
organisations from a number of countries petitioned the European Parliament in
October 2006 to recognise the 19th century Circassian genocide, this
was ignored and Tbilisi
also appeared to take little interest in it. Ultimately, the genocide’s
geopolitical significance was raised after the summer of 2007, when it was
announced that Sochi
would be the capital for the 2014 Olympics. This immediately raised hopes both
in Georgia itself and in the secessionist republics: the Georgians thought it
would give them leverage over Moscow on the Abkhaz question; their adversaries,
on the other hand, hoped that Russia would now be interested in stabilising the
situation on their Southern borders and recognise Abkhazia, which borders
directly on the Sochi district, as well as South Ossetia.
Another important detail is that the August 2008 war
made it clear that however the peoples of the North Caucasus might respond to a
repeated attempt by Georgia
to gain Abkhazia by force, they would no longer be able to play a defining role
in a war. Their position would still be important in terms of military strategy
and politics, but they would no longer be as significant as they had been in
the early 1990s. This is well understood both in the North Caucasus and in Georgia. For the
Georgians, it means that Tbilisi no longer needs
to maintain its bitter fight with the North Caucasus and it can dispense with
the bitter propaganda war against the pro-Abkhaz political movements on the
other side of the Caucasus
mountains. It has also engendered hopes that Georgia might
be able to persuade the Caucasians gently and unobtrusively that the Abkhaz
issue, although it does affect the interests of the Circassian peoples, is not
worth shedding blood over. The continuing existence of Abkhazia and South
Ossetia no longer depends directly on the North Caucausian community, since Russia has
vouched for these republics. In fact, the tandem of Vladimir Putin and Dmitry
Medvedev have staked their political reputation on it. Georgia, of course, is hoping that this regime
is not permanent and Russia’s
new leaders, whoever they might be, whether liberals or ultra-nationalists,
will no longer be personally committed to the recognition of Abkhazia and South Ossetia. The independence of these countries may yet
in fact become an irritant to any new regime, which would allow Georgia to
restart bargaining over the issue. While the Adygheyan peoples may not feel
entirely excluded from the process, they are certainly aware that their role in
the conflict has been reduced to a rhetorical one since 2008. Of course, the
Caucasus leaders will from time to time come out with statements of support for
Abkhazia, but this is now more likely to be in the wake of Moscow’s policy.
Tbilisi has claimed for many years, despite the clear evidence to the contrary,
that it was mighty Russia,
rather than volunteers (Caucasians and Cossacks), who fought in Abkhazia
against the Georgian army alongside the Abkhaz. Now that this legend has
unexpectedly been converted into reality – and Russia with all its military
might is indeed carrying out the task of defending Abkhazia on the ground and
by sea – the Circassians, Kabardinians and other ethnic groups related to the
Abkhaz, although they may not feel sidelined, certainly do not feel they are
the principal actors in the conflict. This disenchantment is fuelling visible
resentment in the North Caucasus: whereas
earlier the political self-expression of the Adygheyans, Circassians, Shapsug
and Kabardinians took the form of full participation in Abkhaz affairs, this
opportunity is now denied them.
One high-profile example of the new mood was provided
in an interview with Ibragim Yaganov, the Chair of the public movement “Khase”
of Kabardino-Balkaria. Yaganov was one of the most popular commanders of
volunteer brigades in
Abkhazia during the 1992–1993 military campaign. The interview appeared in
December 2011 and caused quite a stir, including some stinging criticism,
particularly in Abkhazia. However, Yaganov’s views are important given that he
is both a field commander and a capable politician. Yaganov remarked: ‘We,
those who fought there, are analysing what has happened and coming to certain
conclusions. And we have radically altered our view on this issue. But there is
one barrier I cannot overcome. The only thing that currently constrains me is
the memory of our fallen comrades.’ He added: ‘I am totally committed to
settling relations with Georgia.
Unfortunately, we are part of the Russian Federation and must deal
with the circumstances in which they have placed us.’ In other words, Russia is now seen as the major destructive
factor rather than Georgia.
There has been a steady decline in the prosperity and
stability of the Adygheyan republics and they now lag behind many of the other
outlying areas of the Russian
Federation. This is also a factor in the
recent increase in interest in the Circassian issue in the North
Caucasus itself. Moreover, Georgia will of course take any
opportunity to weaken the positions of its powerful neighbour to the
North-West.
From an objective point of view, the
August 2008 war could only strengthen Russia’s
position in the North Caucasus. There would
certainly have been protests from the Adygheyan peoples if Moscow had simply left Abkhazia to its fate.
However, discussions on the Caucasian War of the 19th century were already
gaining currency in the Adygheyan republics. And once Tbilisi resigned itself to the failure of its
blitzkrieg, it transitioned smoothly
into a new strategic initiative – the search for political allies in the
North-West Caucasus.
It is of course highly unlikely that Georgian
politicians will be able to provoke any significant rise in political tensions
in the North Caucasus: they will only be able
to exploit opportunities as they arise. This is clearly demonstrated by the
timing of their actions (Georgia
only seriously engaged with the Circassian issue a year after the August war)
and the tentative nature of the steps the official and semi-official
structures in Tbilisi are taking. This hesitancy is not
only a function of the threat from Moscow.
The Western world is gradually adopting a more restrained stance in relation to
Georgia, with not everyone seeing the country as the most promising and
progressive ally, even in Washington. In the near future, the Western partners
may well begin criticising Georgia,
above all over the regime’s poor record on democracy. The West is increasingly
viewing Georgia’s actions
over the North Caucasus as provocative.
Given this, Tbilisi
feels better off keeping its powder dry and not entering into any political
commitments, except perhaps at the level of rhetoric. Russia currently has no official reason to
reproach the Georgians, who are not after all engaged in direct subversion in
the North Caucasus. We do not yet know who
will be in power in Georgia
in five to 10 years. The long-frozen Circassian question might yet be dropped
as quickly as it was raised.
Significance of
the “Circassian question”
Even so, Tbilisi
is promulgating its new “Circassian” policy slowly and steadily, step by step.
In December 2009, a Group of Friendship with the Parliaments of the North
Caucasus was created in the Georgian Parliament; on 4th January 2010, the
“First Information Caucasus” TV channel (PIK) was launched; on 13th October
2010, a visa-free regime was introduced for residents of the republics of the
North Caucasus entering Georgia; in February 2011, a resolution was passed
creating a special committee on Caucasus issues under the State Minister of
Georgia on Diaspora Issues; on 20th May 2011, the Georgian Parliament passed
the Resolution referred to above, recognising the genocide of the Circassian
people during the Russia-Caucasian War. Georgia was, notably, the first
country in the world to recognise the genocide of the Circassian people.
These actions may have a number of different political
consequences for Georgia.
The positive consequences from the Georgian administration’s point of view are
that they create problems for Moscow on the eve
of the 2014 Olympics, which is still a highly prestigious event for Russia. Calls
are even being heard from some circles for a boycott of the Olympics, a
precedent being found in the position of the global community in 1980 following
the deployment of Soviet troops in Afghanistan. Prospects are also
emerging of defiant amity developing between the Georgian government and
certain national organisations in the Caucasus.
And most important of all, the Georgian initiative is not simply aimed at
weakening links between the North Caucasus community and the Abkhaz: it is an
attempt to deprive Abkhazia of its main source of support in the North Caucasus. The Adygheyans, Circassians,
Kabardinians, Abaza, Shapsugs are the ethnic groups most closely related to the
Abkhaz. They could prompt Russia
to take decisive action if Moscow belatedly
responds to one or other hostile actions by Georgia in relation to Abkhazia.
The contacts between the Georgians and Circassians may
be a cause of alarm for the Abkhaz, who have always trusted their North Caucasus
cousins implicitly and recall the early 1990s when they rejected Georgia’s
projects and supported Abkhazia’s struggle for national sovereignty. On the
other hand, Georgia’s
initiative contains a pitfall for Abkhaz diplomacy: if Georgia
recognises the events of the Caucasian War as genocide and the Abkhaz do not
follow suit, the Circassians will have a grievance against Abkhazia. But if the
Abkhaz issue a similar statement, this would complicate relations between Moscow and Sukhum.
Arguing over the genocide will not isolate the Abkhaz from their cousins across
the Caucasus mountains, but it is certainly
capable of causing a degree of friction. Opportunities are opening up for Georgia to play
on disagreements between its neighbours.
At the same time, the document recognising the
Circassian genocide could backfire on Georgia. This is particularly true
in relation to Armenia, which has been attempting for a long time and with some
degree of success to secure the global community’s recognition of the Armenian genocide
of 1915 (the latest example being the French parliament’s decision to make
denial of the genocide a criminal offence). Regarding these subtleties, the
Georgian political scientist Mamuka Areshidze has given a direct warning:
‘politicising these events is fraught with negative consequences for Georgia. If the
Circassian genocide is recognised, this will provide a justification for Armenia to demand that Georgia immediately recognises the 1915
genocide, which would ruin Georgia’s
relations with Turkey and Azerbaijan.
We should comment here (and this is something that the
more open-minded Georgian political scientists are also saying) that it does
seem rather odd to recognise the genocide of the Circassian people without
making any statement about the fate of the Chechen people in the same period.
This narrow geographical focus for the recognition of genocide is clearly
dictated by political concerns. The Vainakh peoples suffered no less than the
Circassians from the Caucasian War. The Georgian Parliament did, incidentally,
recently announce its intention to consider recognising the genocide of the
Ingush people. But what would the consequences be if Georgia were to recognise the
Chechen genocide? It would certainly impose some political obligations on Tbilisi. In particular,
if there were an anti-Russian uprising in Chechnya, the Georgians would
logically be obliged to support the insurgents, at least in the political
arena. Georgia
would certainly not want to assume obligations of this kind. Such a statement
could lead to a new military conflict with Russia,
and Georgia
is for the moment at least too vulnerable and has no direct protection. It
would also mean providing political support for the Chechen resistance, which
has gone underground. This would in turn lead to conflict with the current
administration in Chechnya
headed by Ramzan Kadyrov.
Of course, everyone in the North Caucasus understands Tbilisi’s purpose in
promoting the “Circassian question”. Tbilisi’s
current plan to revive relations with the Circassians is clearly political in
nature. A number of North Caucasus politicians
are recalling that several Georgian formations fought on the Russian side in
the Caucasian War and indeed were present at the victory parade in Krasnaya
Polyana in May 1864. However, the new Georgian initiative plays on sentiments emerging in the North
Caucasus. It is a bold strategic plan, which could yield Tbilisi certain
dividends. Taking the wider view, it is clear to everyone that Tbilisi will not be able to provoke a new
Caucasian War. Moscow
would almost certainly not even permit serious conflict on the scale of the
Chechen wars of the 1990s and 2000s. This is clearly understood by the Adyghes
themselves. The national movement of the Adygheyan peoples has also always
acted within the law and in accordance with international standards. Extremist
methods of the sort that could disrupt the Olympic Games in Sochi are simply not in their nature. It is
almost inconceivable that the Circassians would take such actions: they value
their reputation in the eyes of the global community too highly.
However, a change in attitude in the national
republics of the North Caucasus, which have so far been totally loyal to Russia, would in itself not be a bad result for Georgia. It might
help the Georgian administration, if not in a military conflict, then at least
in one of the countless rounds of the diplomatic game. And even if they prove
unable to weaken Russia’s
position in the North Caucasus, the Georgians
will still be satisfied if enmity with the Adygheyan peoples is replaced by
mutual sympathy. This would provide an opportunity to restore (even if only in
part) its lost influence to the North of the Caucasus mountains, an outcome
which would certainly not be negligible for modern Georgia.
