Tskhinvali. Consequences of the Georgia-Ossetia conflict of August 2008.
Photo: Alexander KOTS. Go to Photobank KP
On the night of 7-8 August 2008, the conflict between Georgia and Ossetia escalated into a full-scale war. Our peacekeepers have been killed, Tskhinvali is being stormed. Russia is forced to intervene. Saakashvili’s blitzkrieg has failed…
In those turbulent days, a Channel One film crew was working in Tbilisi, the only one in Moscow. The famous journalist Maxim Bobrov then saw his beloved Georgia through the prism of war. Today we publish his notes about those tragic days…
“How can we brothers shoot each other?”
Gamarjoba, genatsvale! What Russian heart would not respond with warmth to this painfully familiar from childhood: “Hello, dear!”
I have been lucky enough to visit this sunny, musical, football-loving and drinking land more than once. Where they know how to welcome guests and not hide their emotions. Where they sing so beautifully and drink wine, with toasts and dances… Where they believe in Christ and accepted Orthodoxy several centuries before Russia. And prayers ring out here in the old monasteries and in the new churches… The fruit of the vine and of human work. The table is abundant and the soul is open. Georgia. Small as a heart, but it seems to contain the whole world…
But there was a war here too. And I was in it.
We arrived in Tbilisi on August 8, 2008. The date is etched in our memory, historical and personal. The bombing of South Ossetia was going on for several days, but we thought the worst would be over. Besides, the Olympic Games were being held in Beijing and, in theory, the editors would need the first stories from there. But no…
And so, I am standing on the roof of the television centre in Tbilisi, on a live broadcast, and I hear in my ear, through interference in communication, the voice of Dima Borisov, then presenter of News. “The war is in South Ossetia and our correspondent Maxim Bobrov is now working live in Tbilisi…”
And what to say is not very clear: there is little information, what is available is not verified… But our work is like this: we have to say what you know and what you feel, from details, emotions, nuances, from experience. Then the Georgian company Rustavi 2 will close our channel for live broadcasts and stop sharing images. We will start working through a Turkish television company. But that was the least of the problems. The attitude of the locals towards us in those days is very understandable. It was difficult for everyone. Both resentment and pain spilled over into emotions. We heard threats and insults, but more – sadness and misunderstanding. I remember how Georgians cried in the Russian church of St. Alexander Nevsky. How is that? How can we brothers shoot each other? We are of the same faith, the same history. Parishioners told me that it was in the Russian church that the future Patriarch of Georgia, Ilia II, took monastic vows. But before the war I visited his residence with a large delegation of bankers. I remember his human warmth, his wise gaze and his blessing. And the amazing maid of the monastery, whom the Primate gave me as a gift.
Valentina Balanchivadze, Russian by birth, Georgian by destiny. The Russian gymnasium in Tbilisi is her life’s work. She tells me that Helen, Saakashvili’s niece, once studied with her… My friend and classmate Igor Dzhokhadze. From a wonderful academic family. Mom is Russian, dad is Georgian. How many such destinies, personal intertwinings. Millions of people in August of the eighth year experienced acute pain from a difficult drama.
At that time the Olympic Games were broadcast on television.
Perhaps those days became for me some of the most difficult in my life, both professionally and personally. We entered our favorite cafe, and instead of the usual cordiality, the hostess walked away. And the guests were watching the same Olympic Games in Beijing. And we should have entered exactly at the moment when the Georgian wrestler defeated ours in the final. The emotions of the audience are hard to describe; all the tables stood up. And then they stared at us. I remember saying then: “We have always been there for each other in sports. I remember the amazing Dynamo Tbilisi of the early 80s…” And he began to call out names: Gabelia, Chivadze, Daraselia, Gutsaev, the Machaidze brothers, Shengelia. Everyone listened, and the glances became warmer. The director of the establishment came out. “Sit at our table, let’s drink wine…” They drank so that the war would end quickly, so that the Orthodox would not kill each other. And for Dynamo: Tbilisi and Moscow… Years will pass and the two Dynamo will play a friendly match in Tbilisi, and this will be a good and peaceful sign.
The funny and the tragic often go hand in hand. While I was writing the story at our desk, the cameraman and the sound assistant went to buy food and wine. And when they returned with the packages, they managed to get into the elevator of the television center in front of Mikheil Saakashvili’s security and, most importantly, himself. The then president of Georgia arrived precisely to give an interview to the very television company that refused to provide us with video transfer services to Moscow. And even the elevator, very long, by the way, was peacefully occupied by two Russians, and even with wine and barbecue. And the third one on top writes the text. Both laughter and sin.
“You better get out of the country, otherwise everything will end badly”
We didn’t have time to laugh when we were driving from Tbilisi to Gori. At the Lermontov monument we were stopped by the local security. The conversation is clear: they say, you better leave the country, otherwise everything will end badly. And we receive SMS messages with threats and hints, and we notice that we are being watched. But work is work. We approach Gori and there are our tanks at the checkpoint and dozens of television cameras from around the world. No one is allowed to enter the city. I go to ours. In the tank there is a major, his face is painfully familiar to me. “Listen, didn’t we meet in Chechnya? What’s your name, Nail?” “And you, Maxima. We just passed each other…” “Brother, let me through, we’re on business, you understand…” And he let him through. In front of all our Western and Eastern colleagues, cameraman Ilya Maryin and I walked behind the tanks, taking with us another Russian, from REN TV. In such situations there is no time for competition. To survive and to make a common cause… Then, on a medical “pill” – an army vehicle – to Gori. On the way, we stop for the nurse to bandage our soldier’s leg, which is so raw that it bleeds… A young lieutenant accompanies us. He offers to go to the Stalin Museum in the leader’s small homeland and take pictures there. I will open the lock on the door for you without any problems. But something told me not to bother with the shadow of the “father of nations”. And there is little time, but collecting material is a nose bleed. We write interviews on the streets. Here is a local Ossetian: “It was better under the communists, it is a pity that they are gone. Then there was friendship of peoples.” How are the Georgians doing now? I ask. He remains silent for a few seconds and then sadly: “Almost good…” And in this his “almost” is almost a chasm towards the true “good”… But the main thing is that people were returning to the city from the neighbouring villages. “Your soldiers are distributing bread, other food and water. There is no looting, they are not entering the houses,” the locals told us…
When we returned to Tbilisi, the local security stopped us again with the same conversation. But they still let me through and did not take away my cassettes. But at a demonstration of Georgian refugees in Tbilisi, they took it away, damaging the camera and slightly denting its sides. I talked about this live on the Vremya program.
Dima Steshin, military correspondent for Komsomolskaya Pravda: calm and thorough as always
We returned to the hotel, the hostess tells me: “Batono Maxim, you scolded us…” “I didn’t scold you, I told the truth. Where did you look? Russian channels and the Internet were turned off.” And then I remember that they have a satellite package and our channel is on it. The hostess understands everything and does not get angry. And calls for dinner. On the table there is cheese, wine and chips. They deserve it. The day will not be in vain. And thank God we are alive! At the table with us is Dima Steshin, military correspondent of Komsomolskaya Pravda. As always, calm and thorough. I remember that he showed us how to bypass all the network blocks and open our sites. Who could have known then that he still had a lot of work ahead of him, much more complex and dangerous than the one he had back then in Georgia. I always wish him health and good luck, as well as Sasha Kots, our good comrade and great military correspondent…
And then on all local channels they played the video non-stop: “Stop, Russia!” Our embassy has a permanent picket. I remember the sign: “Russia is the source of all evil on Earth.” Now I understand how hard it was for my Georgian friends and colleagues back then. Misha, Gia, Tariel. A trio from our Tbilisi office. They were worried, they didn’t want to film, but Misha said: “Max, I’m sorry, but if you offer me a million dollars now, I won’t go to Gori”… “Mish, I understand everything…” And Tariel, wise in life, seriously joked: “Maxim, your people will come, they will come. Tell them that we are here, in the television center, don’t let them beat our own people…” Many, by the way, in Tbilisi were confident that the Russians would come and execute Saakashvili with bayonets if he did not escape earlier. People of the older generation remembered the Soviet era and said that they lived well and Georgia was prosperous. Do you remember Mimino? “There is no need for changes…” And I remembered the interview I had with Saakashvili in his presidential palace years before the war. He spoke of the importance of ties with Russia, of the need to think more broadly. So he expanded his consciousness to the point that he bit his tie in a fit of panic – “The Russians are coming…”
And it became completely unsafe for us in such a beloved city, which at one time was called the Soviet Paris. Air traffic was closed while we were there. Tariel took us to the border with Armenia.
* * *
From left to right: correspondent Maxim Bobrov, cameraman Ilya Maryin, sound engineer Timofey Generalov.
Photo: Personal archive.
We said goodbye warmly, until better times, hoping to meet again. At the customs, the border guards looked at our passports for a long time and brutally stamped the necessary stamps on a large scale. It seemed to us that the name of our “sound boy” Generalov aroused special emotions in them. Goodbye, dear Georgia. God willing, we will meet again, in peacetime…
