Russia, for its part, was lavishly demonstrating its commitment to South Ossetia; the conductor Valery Gergiev, who has close ties in the Kremlin, flew the entire orchestra of the Mariinsky Theater in to perform a symphony under floodlights near a ruined building.

Some measure of that warmth has lasted. Ms. Alborova, director of the Agency for Social, Economic and Cultural Development, still remembers being in her basement with a few family members during the Georgian bombardment, with the “sense that these were the very last seconds of my life.” Now, she said, “thank God, we sleep peacefully.”

But within a few months of Russia’s recognition, shivering through the winter behind windows made of plastic sheeting, people began to wonder when the billions of rubles of aid pledged by Russia would reach them. The answer seems to have been that much of it was stolen: Mr. Malashenko said he estimated that 30 percent of the aid pledged by Russia had reached its target.

Russia’s federal audit chamber found that six months after the conflict, only $1.4 million had been spent on reconstruction out of a disbursement of $55 million in priority aid. By last year, the chamber estimated that $33 million had been lost or misused. South Ossetia’s government eventually opened 70 cases against former officials, alleging that they stole a total of $22 million.

The flows of cash changed South Ossetia, complained an academic from Tskhinvali, who spoke on the condition of anonymity for fear of angering the local authorities. Officials who once lived modestly began to build lavish houses in “apricot and pink” and cruise the streets in “black cars with blacked-out windows,” she said, adding that she had recently paid $6 for a cup of green tea.

“It will be sad if Crimea turns out the same way,” she said. “This culture of Russian expansion, it means lots of money, but terribly distributed. It destroyed the good ways of a small people.”