By now, every resident of Abkhazia knows the details of the visit by members of the Georgian party Alliance of Patriots of Georgia to the Ilori church. Representatives of virtually all the republic's political forces, public figures, and ordinary citizens have weighed in on the matter. The person who helped the Georgian politicians slip into Abkhazia was Lasha Sakania, the non-staff adviser to the head of state on international relations, who resigned his post following the scandal that erupted after the "visit." But before doing so, he let slip that he had been asked to render this service by Russian friends.

Over the years, representatives of a wide variety of Georgian political, civic, and youth organizations have visited Abkhazia — some openly, some covertly. More often than not, things never progressed beyond ordinary online debate. Yet this time a scandal of almost cosmic proportions erupted — one serious enough to bring even members of the republic's legislature out of their extended recess.

Everyone was expecting some kind of harsh sanctions — or, to put it plainly, blood — so that talk of the endless enmity between two peoples who had lived through a war could begin again. But it was not to be. The actions of Lasha Sakania were of course condemned, but despite everything that had happened, the view that the time had come to establish dialogue rang out more loudly than ever across Abkhazian society.

"In Georgia itself, people are already understanding that existing realities need to be reconsidered. The Georgians themselves understand that dialogue is necessary and must be established by other means. We here in Abkhazia also understand and acknowledge this," said Member of Parliament Almas Djopua at a meeting with the public.

As I noted above, a wide variety of people from Georgia have visited Abkhazia quite regularly. So why has this particular event been blown up so dramatically right now, and who benefits from the noise? A coincidence? I don't think so. Or rather, I don't believe it.

And here is why. Over recent years, the level of trust in Russia within Abkhazia has weakened. I have conducted no special surveys, but none are needed to see this. It is enough to walk the streets, to speak with residents. At the very least, one can scroll through the Abkhazian segment of social media — and you will understand how the attitude of Abkhazia's residents toward their neighbor and strategic partner has actually changed. Discontent with Russia's policies is heard with increasing frequency. The fact that the strategic partner has begun to behave toward Abkhazia in an inappropriate and at times outrageous manner is by now beyond dispute.

In the view of political figure Said Lolua, "Abkhazia has lately been feeling Russia's embrace so tightly that it is hard to breathe." "It is with great regret that one observes how the pandemic has been turned into a smokescreen for the fulfillment of certain political contracts. The consequences of this flirtation no longer look merely like a training collar for fighting dogs — one that digs into the neck when the dog tries to bolt — they now amount to a genuine stranglehold," believes Lolua.

And the cause of this assessment of Abkhazian-Russian relations is not the border issue, as some are attempting to portray it. This concerns more important matters — I would say fundamental ones.

The moment Abkhazia began speaking of establishing, for instance, trade and economic relations with Georgia, a thousand and one misfortunes rained down on its head. The first sign of the deteriorating relationship with the strategic friend was the closure of the border and the impossibility of bringing into Abkhazia from Russia the medications and the medical equipment so urgently needed during the pandemic. The republic's leadership had to resort to all manner of contrivances to obtain tests, ventilators, masks, gloves, and disinfectants. Thanks are owed to the international organizations and businesspeople who did not abandon Abkhazia in its hour of need.

Shortly thereafter came the pension scandal. Over 17 million rubles, the Russian Pension Fund demanded that Abkhazia abolish the use of plastic cards by pensioners. The result: in forty-degree heat, during a heightened sanitary and epidemiological situation, elderly residents of the republic were forced to stand in queues for hours outside savings bank branches waiting to receive their pensions.

Russia applied such harsh measures only in Abkhazia, while within its own country — despite multi-million-ruble losses — it not only refrained from introducing any sanctions, but has no intention of doing so. As recently as August 25, 2020, the Russian Pension Fund was audited by the Accounts Chamber. According to the audit findings, "due to untimely notification of deaths, the Pension Fund continued to pay pensions to the relatives of deceased pensioners. Overpayments amounted to hundreds of millions of rubles," the auditors' report on the Pension Fund's operations for 2017–2019 states. "The auditors were unable to assess how much in total the Pension Fund had overpaid in pensions to the relatives of deceased persons over the past three years. In just two of the fund's territorial bodies, by their own assessment, more than 377 million rubles had been paid out in this manner."

Then various groups of experts began pouring into Abkhazia, conducting intensive study of the republic's economic, energy, and military sectors for reasons that were not entirely clear. Meanwhile, within Abkhazia itself, Russian organizations launched a flurry of activity around information security. The leitmotif of all these meetings was: Georgia threatens Abkhazia, no one else can be trusted, only Russia is good and only Russia deserves trust.

The crowning misfortune was the arrival of Russia's Deputy Minister of Economic Development Mikhail Babich, who did not ask or propose anything, but demanded that all communication with countries offering Abkhazia assistance during this difficult period be stopped. It was made clear that in the event of non-compliance, retribution would not be long in coming.

And do you still believe that the "secret" visit to Abkhazia by members of a Georgian party that amounts to nothing was a coincidence? No — this looks very much like a calculated, cunning move by the large neighbor, who by hook or by crook forces us to dance to its tune.

And finally, many have come to understand that Russia will not allow Abkhazians to conduct dialogue with other countries, to make decisions about their own future, and will not permit them to take any steps that would contribute to the formation and strengthening of the Abkhazian state. The strategic partner has no interest in having a small but strong state at its side. Because if that were to happen, what instruments could Russia use to once again reduce Abkhazia to the position of a republic perpetually begging for alms? None whatsoever — and do you think Russia would find that acceptable?

Every clear-thinking resident of Abkhazia understands that the process of recognition of Abkhazia's independence has somehow slowed dramatically. Russia is no longer as interested in advancing this agenda — how else can one explain what is happening? Although, in the view of Abkhazian economist Anatoly Otyrba, Abkhazia itself is further than ever from being ready to build a democratic state governed by the rule of law. "We know that only those who deserve respect are recognized as sovereign. The question is: what is there to respect about us, if we have lost all the hallmarks of a state?" says Otyrba. One way or another, in the years since the war, the still-fragile republic has received no assistance from its large and powerful neighbor in the building of a state. Money was given; schools, hospitals, and cultural centers were helped to be built; pensions were paid; Russian citizenship was even bestowed. But Abkhazia has still been unable to take a single step closer to a secure future.

Throughout the entire pandemic — when tens of thousands of people were being infected with coronavirus every day in Russia itself, while in Abkhazia there was not a single case — the strategic partner and supposedly great friend sealed the border shut. You might say it was out of concern for Abkhazia's residents? Not in the least.

In the view of Abkhazian expert Tengiz Djopua, this was a calculated move, the reasons for which Abkhazia has yet to fully discover. "The situation surrounding Russia's lifting of restrictions on the Abkhazian section of the border no longer has a sanitary-epidemiological character. It is already a political matter, the agenda of which will become clear in time," believes Djopua.

It did not take a full year for us to learn what Russia actually demands of Abkhazia. We learned it not from official sources, but we learned it nonetheless. For now, only the country's economic security is at stake. But a threat to national interests is said to be not far off — I am speaking of the sale of real estate to Russians. And the agenda also includes a prohibition on any kind of communication and the establishment of contacts, the violation of which carries the most severe punishment for Abkhazians — up to and including complete isolation.

At one point Russia would not allow Abkhazia to establish close ties with its diaspora in Turkey, Syria, and Jordan. We backed down then. Now they want to deprive us of the right even to think about any kind of dialogue. And "big brother" is confident that we will fall silent and back down again.

The other day, while walking along the Sukhumi embankment, I overheard a conversation between two families. A young father, holding his seven-year-old son by the hand, was saying that he would do everything in his power — and beyond — to ensure that his children received an education in Europe and stayed there to live. "Let them come to Abkhazia for the holidays and nothing more. Once they understand that life can be lived differently, they won't want to come back here for long anyway," the young man was saying. His companions were nodding in agreement, lamenting that all of this required large sums of money that could not yet be earned in Abkhazia. Yet they had not lost hope that a way would be found and that their children would manage to live a decent life, even if far from home.

Very telling. And do you still believe the situation will change? I would like to say God willing — but I fear that the right to hold our own opinion, the right to conduct dialogue and build the future of our homeland, may come at too high a price for all of us. The main thing here is to understand with whom to build friendship and strategic partnership. We cannot afford to make another mistake.

Astanda Bgamba

The text contains place names and terminology used in the self-proclaimed Republic of Abkhazia.

Opinions expressed in the publication reflect the views of the author and do not necessarily represent the position of the editorial board.