Since Russia invaded Ukraine, Georgia’s capital has become one of the most interesting places on Earth. Much of Russia’s cultural and intellectual elite — artists, writers, journalists, actors, directors, philosophers and professors — has poured in.
Enter a cafe, and you inevitably hear Russian and recognize someone you know. Cozy, picturesque Tbilisi is small, with everything in easy sight. There are countless Ukrainian national flags with slogans expressing support for the country, and there are messages scrawled on the fences and walls of houses: “Fuck Putin,” “Fuck Russia” or “Russian warship, go fuck yourself.”
That last epithet — the response of Ukrainian border guards on Snake Island in the Black Sea to a Russian surrender demand at the beginning of the war — quickly became a slogan of resistance.
Illustration: Tania Chou
The problem is that all Russians are now being condemned as supporters of Russian President Vladimir Putin, as though they were on that warship.
I flew to Tbilisi with my children and husband, who was the editor-in-chief of Dozhd, a independent Russian television channel that closed after the last window for freedom of speech in the country slammed shut. Even after the Russian government declared the channel a “foreign agent” in August last year, my husband and I were still allowed to work, because Putin considered it necessary to maintain a facade of democracy.
However, the invasion ended that. Despite persecution of the opposition and journalists, corrupt courts and authoritarianism, Russia before Feb. 24 gave many liberals some space to breathe and even speak out, but now Russians could be imprisoned for up to 15 years for speaking or sharing the truth about the war. That was a final warning.
After our move, which I still dare not call emigration, the realization began to hit. Putin has destroyed not only the lives of millions of Ukrainians, but ours, too. Moreover, he has achieved something previously unimaginable: The civilized world, with its values of humanism and respect for every individual, responded to the invasion of Ukraine by convicting all Russians. We are all responsiblefor the crimes of Putin’s government. We are all to blame.
In Tbilisi, a colleague from Dozhd entered a taxi and greeted the driver in Russian. A short conversation in English ensued:
“Russian?”
“Yes.”
“Goodbye.”
Likewise, when I was recently a guest on a Georgian youth television talk show, one of the teenage hosts told me that Russians arriving in Georgia would do well to go to Freedom Square in the center of Tbilisi and loudly proclaim support for Ukraine.
“I, for one, would not serve Russians in a cafe until they spoke about their attitude toward Putin,” she said.
With a lump in my throat, I muttered about human rights and democracy, that there is no such thing as “all Russians,” and that we do not represent Putin, but the discussion did not move on.
How did the West come to reject a whole nation? Blocking or, to use a fashionable term, “canceling” 145 million Russians is a simple way out of the current situation.
What Putin is doing in Ukraine is a tragedy. Every day we see heartbreaking images of razed Ukrainian cities, dead bodies lying in the middle of shattered streets, and wounded children missing arms and legs. When I read that Russian forces had killed a three-month-old girl and her mother in Odesa, I was filled with impotent rage. Those responsible must be held accountable.
The independent pollsters at the Levada Center have reported that 83 percent of Russians approve of Putin’s actions.
Of course they do, the indignant Western layman says. Russians have imperialism and bloodlust in their genes, and they like dictators. After all, they chose Putin. So, let them pay, too. Deny Russians visas. Freeze their bank accounts. Prevent them from attending prestigious universities. Banish them from theaters. Exclude them from Wimbledon. Let Russia become like North Korea. Let us forget that the place exists.
However, it is impossible to believe opinion polls conducted under a dictatorship, even when they are carried out honestly and competently. Intimidated people do not answer questions truthfully. We do not know how many Russians actually support Putin. What we do know is that in his 22 years in power, he has destroyed the possibility of choice by imprisoning or exiling his rivals and turning elections into a farce.
Perhaps recent history can point the way to a more nuanced Western response to the Russian people.
In 2008, Russia invaded Georgia. That war was much shorter — it lasted only five days — and resulted in Russia occupying 20 percent of Georgia’s territory.
Then-French president Nicolas Sarkozy mediated the ceasefire talks. Although Russia did not fulfill its obligations under the subsequent agreement, France was not even offended and the other Western democracies quickly forgot the episode.
It is useful to recall the subsequent actions of then-Georgian president Mikheil Saakashvili. Despite being one of Putin’s most uncompromising critics — he once famously called the diminutive Russian leader “Lilliputin” — Saakashvili abolished Georgia’s visa regime for Russians three-and-a-half years after the war.
“We will never close the border for Russian businessmen and tourists, because where business is active, there is no place for tank tracks,” he said.
Although Georgia and Russia still have no formal diplomatic relations, Saakashvili’s decision means that tens of thousands of Russians have today found refuge in a country bombed by Russian aircraft 14 years ago.
However, for many Georgians, the trauma of that aggression and occupation has not been overcome. They are experiencing Putin’s invasion of Ukraine as a second war against them, which partly explains anti-Russian sentiment here.
Let us hope that the West can adopt a less emotional approach and reject the perverse logic of collective guilt. Instead of canceling all Russians, including those whose opposition to Putin has forced them to flee their homeland, Western officials should complete the task of targeting the resources, reputations and opportunities of those who really are responsible for this disaster.
Ekaterina Kotrikadze is a correspondent and anchor at the recently closed independent Russian television channel Dozhd.
Copyright: Project Syndicate
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