A slow-motion plan to absorb territory has left Georgians cut off in a foreign land, or exiled from their homes. But, all the while, pro-Kremlin voices are gaining traction in Tbilisi

Russian expansion: 'I went to bed in Georgia – and woke up in South Ossetia'

Dato Vanishvili had a shock when he came out of his front door one morning.

Russian troops were laying coils of razor-wire fence right outside his house. They had cut Vanishvili off from the rest of his village, Khurvaleti – and, in effect, from his own country.

“I was in Georgia when I went to bed,” said the energetic 81-year-old farmer, speaking from behind the head-height fence. “When I woke I was in South Ossetia.”

Officially, this mountain region is part of Georgia. But it broke away after a separatist war and it has been occupied by Russia since 2008, when it fought Georgia for control of South Ossetia.

Vanishvili is a victim of what appears to be a slow-motion Russian plan to absorb the region for good, while covertly seizing more Georgian territory with its self-declared border fence. Russian troops started building the barrier two years ago, which is when Vanishvili was first cut off – and he has watched helplessly as they have expanded it, complete with sand-bagged gun positions and observation towers.



Vanishvili has been cut off from his family, who live in towns on the Georgian-controlled side. “Now I can’t visit my daughters any more,” he said.

Recently, Russia’s president, Vladimir Putin, signed a treaty with South Ossetia giving Moscow control of its defence and opening the borders, following a similar pact with Abkhazia, another breakaway Georgian region under Russian sway.

Georgian officials have condemned this as “de-facto annexation”, comparing it to Putin’s takeover of Crimea.

Regional observers now see Russia’s 2008 invasion as a test run for its even bloodier intervention in Ukraine – encouraged, many Georgians say, by the west’s half-hearted reaction back then.

“What’s happening in Ukraine is what happened to us,” said Khatuna Sonishvili, who fled South Ossetia with her family as fighting engulfed her village in 2008. “We left wearing our slippers. All I got was the cot for my baby son.”

Seven years later, her son is growing up fast in a wind-blown refugee settlement, a short drive from Vanishvili’s now fenced-in house.

Dozens of other similar encampments across the region house nearly 30,000 people forced from their homes by the 2008 war. Few have jobs, relying instead on government handouts. Alcoholism is rife.

Georgia is partly to blame for its plight, stirring up ethnic strife in both South Ossetia and Abkhazia in the 1990s after independence from the Soviet Union.

But, according to a Tbilisi-based diplomat, Putin seems determined to keep the country “off-balance” as long as it is looking westwards. As in Ukraine, he has made clear that his tiny Caucasian neighbour’s desire to join Nato and the EU are red lines. In South Ossetia, he appears to be digging in.

“For years after the war, I used to go to my fields whenever I wanted to,” said Vanishvili. “Now the Russians tell me if I cross over I will lose my home.”



A sign nearby declares this is a “state border”, not just in Georgian but also in English. As few people speak English in this rural area, it seems the message is aimed at a wider audience.

Facebook Twitter Pinterest The razor wire along the claimed border - with a sign in Georgian and English. Photograph: Andrew North for the Guardian

Even with its massive involvement in Ukraine, Russia seems to be ready for more conflict here, conducting regular military exercises with South Ossetian troops. EU monitors posted here since the 2008 war have seen a steady increase in military activity, with the building of several large bases and dozens of observation towers.

A series of loud blasts from the other side of the fence shook Sonishvili’s camp while the Guardian was there. “We hear explosions every week,” said another resident.

At many other points along the disputed frontier, other villagers have suddenly lost their land to the fence. “We went to harvest the apples in my orchard one day and the Russians had blocked it off,” said Amiran, a farmer who didn’t want to give his last name. “They told me my orchards were now in South Ossetia.”

Pro-western figures in Georgia fear it is losing ground to Russian soft power too, with pro-Kremlin voices being heard far more than in the past. Most powerful is the Georgian Orthodox church, which has close ties to its Russian counterpart. Critics dub its priests “Moscow’s fifth column”.

Most Georgians detest their former imperial master and see Nato and EU membership as the only way to protect their sovereignty. Georgia has gone out of its way to win Nato over, sending hundreds of soldiers to serve alongside British and US forces in Helmand. It is now the second largest troop contributor to the continuing US-led mission in Afghanistan.

But the current Georgian Dream ruling coalition has taken a more accommodating stance towards Russia, and the atmosphere and language has changed.



As Russians were erecting posters of Stalin in Moscow to commemorate victory in the second world war, his birthplace in the Georgian town of Gori saw an unusual demonstration. Protesters gathered to denounce plans to join the European Union. Among other things, they said the EU would undermine Georgian culture by encouraging homosexuality – a common refrain of pro-Russia forces in Ukraine as well.

The language has changed towards Nato, too. Officially, the government still supports membership, but it is markedly less enthusiastic. “We are not overwhelmed by the idea of joining like the previous government was,” said senior Georgian Dream MP Tedo Japaridze.

“There’s a real risk of the west losing Georgia,” warned opposition MP Giorgi Kandelaki, a senior figure in the previous, avowedly pro-western, administration.

In a gesture of support, the US is holding exercises here with Georgian troops supposedly aimed at helping it to join Nato. But just a few hundred Americans are involved, and Kandelaki dismissed it as “paying lip-service” to Georgia’s hopes.

With Georgia’s once robust economy also suffering from the fallout the Ukraine crisis, these are nervous times.

Vanishvili’s plight symbolises Georgia’s, too. Delegations of foreign politicians are brought up to the boundary fence to see him, but nothing changes – he is stuck in limbo.

The Russians have offered him a solution: to become a Russian citizen.

“But I don’t want a Russian passport,” said Vanishvili. “I was born in Georgia and I want to die in Georgia.”