Ethnicities and perspectives mix in Akhalkalak

[Phrygian]

Keep in mind this is from a georgian perspective.

http://www.messenger.com.ge/issues/0636_ju...news_0636_3.htm

Local Armenians see suppression in what others call bad times for everyone

By Till Bruckner

AKHALTSIKHE - "Our most severe problem is youth migration," says Robert Muradian, the only ethnic Armenian member of the city sakrebulo in Akhaltsikhe, a town of 18,000 in southern Georgia. "Young people are emigrating to Armenia, Russia, or western Europe. Some people say the situation is being created artificially by the authorities so that the Armenians will leave this region."

He lights a cigarette. "They call it 'white genocide,'" he says in an allusion to the events of 1915.

"Armenians in the regions often misinterpret the situation," counters the program director of a large international development organization. "They think they are being purposefully neglected by the government because they are Armenians. In fact, the previous government completely neglected all the regions, irrespective of who lived there."

In all discussions here, access to jobs and resources emerges as a major issue. Unable to make a decent living, people see themselves forced to look for a better life elsewhere. Muradian has prepared a list of his constituent's concerns. After the exodus of the young generation, he names overdue pensions and salaries, followed by high local taxes that people cannot afford.

"We cannot sell our agricultural products," says one of Muradin's constituents who stops in the office to report, "they do not let our apples across the border into Armenia." Asked if this is a case of ethnic discrimination by Georgian border guards, the man looks baffled. "No, the Georgians let us through. Armenian customs don't let us in, because the Armenian mafia makes a killing by importing apples from Iran. Armenians in Yerevan do not care about Armenians here."

The situation in Akhaltsikhe reflects the ambiguous and often confusing relationships between - and often within - different ethnic groups in the southern province of Samtskhe-Javakheti. Large Georgian and Armenian populations set the tone in a bewildering mosaic of ethnicities that also includes Azeris, Russians, Jews, Greeks, Meskhetian Turks, Ossetians, Ukrainians and gypsies that is hard for outsiders to grasp.

Sometimes even locals find it difficult to decide where to draw the lines. "They say they are Armenians, but they originally came from India," Muradian says of the gypsies, adding that they have Armenian surnames.

"Actually, these days, they are proud to be called gypsies," he corrects himself, "That's what they have started calling themselves now."

Although people everywhere in the regions have suffered from state neglect, many Armenians feel that they are being singled out for additional discrimination. "A senior security official recently told me that Armenians have been given three places of their own - their cemeteries, their schools, and their church. Outside, he said, we have no rights," recalls Ludwig Petrosian, the outspoken head of an Armenian organization often branded as extreme.

"There are hardly any Armenians working for the local and regional government here. In the gamgeobas there were traditionally two places reserved for Armenians, and now it's only one." Angrily, he leans over the table. "You know why? It's so that if there is a conflict, they can send their lone Armenian to sort it out. The Armenians they tolerate do not really represent their people, they represent the interests of the Georgians who require our support every four years on election day and then treat us as second-class citizens for the rest of the time."

It is difficult to determine what support his views have. Petrosian claims his is the only organization that has not sold out to Georgian interests, and is the only one that attracts a large local following. His detractors allege that he is a puppet bankrolled by the government in Yerevan.

However, even moderates like Muradian - who literally squirms in his chair before saying anything that might sound even vaguely confrontational - admit that there is a problem. "If I have a dispute with a Georgian, the courts will always support him," he confesses, immediately adding that part of the problem is that member of his constituency often speak no Georgian and need intermediaries to interact with official structures.

"Also, it seems that Armenian villages usually only have three hours of electricity a day, while Georgian villages have five or six hours of light. And there are very few Armenians in the police force." Muradian lights up again, and waves his cigarette around in the air. "People here want jobs."

Jobs are at a prime in Akhaltsikhe, which independence suddenly transformed from a Soviet border outpost to a forgotten town on the edge of a failing state. "In this town, there are eight different organizations - both banks and NGOs - that offer micro- and small- credits, but there aren't even eight businesses that are working properly," says an ethnic Georgian loan officer who used to work for a bank but is now employed by a development organization.

"It's difficult to find even one person in this region who can write a good business plan. Some people received a lot of compensation money when the Baku-Ceyhan pipeline was routed through their land, but those who put it into business are almost all bankrupt now."

Asked whether Armenians find it more difficult to get loans, he replies that all clients are the same for his organization. "I don't check passports," he insists. According to him, Armenians are generally better at business, and more likely to pay back loans. "Even if we don't give Armenians credit, they have money," the loan officer grins, reflecting the widespread view amongst Georgians that Armenians are better off. Despite his protestations at impartiality, he estimates that only ten per cent of his clients are Armenian - one-fourth of their share of the local population.

In impoverished rural Georgia, international donor funds are often a major factor in the local economy, providing a source of cash and jobs. Opinions are divided on whether Armenians are receiving their fair share. "We noticed that Armenian proposals for micro-projects had to be twice as good as those submitted by Georgian villages to receive funding within one project we ran in Samtse-Javakheti," admits the country director of a large international NGO, speaking on condition of anonymity. "The Georgians who made up the selection board gave preference to their own."

Other observers caution against generalizations. "We never came across ethnic issues in Akhaltsikhe," says Gia Glonti, who runs a project for CARE in the region. "I can't remember a single issue brought before us that was framed in ethnic terms." Asked why his Akhaltsikhe staff of eight only includes one Armenian, he explains that the project hired staff strictly based on merit. "We were looking for the most highly qualified staff, regardless of their ethnicity. For the four positions that we advertised, only one Armenian applied - and we took him on. In contrast, in Tsalka we consciously tried to hire staff that reflects the ethnic makeup of the area, but that was because there are strong tensions there."

Petrosian strongly disagrees. He claims that donors and NGOs ignore discrimination against Armenians. "International organizations don't want to see the problems," he fumes, complaining that his own organization had not received any grants because it was singled out as too radical. "Nobody likes it if you uncover problems, but if you do not uncover them, you cannot solve them."

After years of stagnation in which there were few jobs outside the government sector and the aid industry, the situation in Akhaltsikhe changed dramatically when construction of the Baku-Ceyhan pipeline began. However, initial high hopes soon turned into disappointment and outright resentment.

"They said that they would hire workers from Akhaltsikhe," Petrosian recalls, "and they partly did that. But they hardly hired any Armenians." For once, his rival Muradian agrees. "There are only five or six Armenians from Akhaltsikhe now working for BP," he claims. "Georgians employed on the pipeline outnumber Armenians ten to one."

According to Muradian, there is a lack of transparency. "I am a representative of the sakrebulo, but I have no information," he complains. "I went to see BP and they told me that they are a private company, and that it is their private matter."

"That's a lie," counters Khatuna Zaldastanishvili, the community relations manager of SpiePetrofac, which is responsible for pipeline construction and employs 134 locals at its camp in Akhaltsikhe. "We have recorded and followed up every single complaint. There are plenty of complaints, but not one based on the nationality issue."

The company has internal data which tracks the ethnicity of employees, but refuses to release it. "This is a sensitive issue and we do not want to highlight it," Zaldastanishvili says, giving a high figure she asks not to print for the Armenian share of jobs in the predominantly Georgian town. "Discrimination is impossible," she insists, explaining that unskilled and semi-skilled jobs are distributed in a random process involving the public drawing of names.

I ask her about the recent influx of workers from India into Akhaltsikhe, which has sparked off a fresh round of rumors. Some believe that the Indians were called in to replace Georgian employees who were stealing too much, others whisper that the Indians undercut local wages by working for seventy dollars a month. "The 270 Indian citizens were brought in by our sub-contractor PunjLloyd," Zaldastanishvili says defending the move. She is adamant that all expatriates employed on the pipeline are skilled workers who do only those jobs that locals cannot do, but refuses to disclose how much the Indians are earning, claiming it would violate their privacy.

In the information vacuum of Akhaltsikhe - the only local newspaper is a tame monthly that boasts a print run of 500 - the line between rumor and reality is blurred, and fact and fiction become two sides of the same coin.

Take the assertion of 'white genocide.' On the one hand, the overall population of Akhaltsikhe town has plummeted by a third since 1989, and there is no question that people in the area are leaving. On the other hand, census data shows that overwhelmingly mono-ethnic towns elsewhere, such as Gori and Vani, have suffered similar drops in population.

In addition, the number of Armenians living in Georgia has declined from over 430,000 to less than quarter of a million since independence, seemingly supporting the assertion that Armenians are being subtly pushed out. However, the population declines within the Ukrainian, Jewish and Greek minorities is even more marked.

In a country where many young people see emigration as the best path to a better future, the explanation could be that Armenians find it harder to get out than minorities who can easily claim foreign passports, but are more mobile and skillful than Georgians when it comes to seeking opportunities abroad.

Many hope that with the new government, things will change for the better in sleepy Samtskhe-Javakheti. "Now we Armenians have good friends in the national government," says Muradian, who is a member of the governing National Movement party. His living room is host to a never-ending series of petitioners who complain of the lack of opportunities, the corrupt and unresponsive local government, and the dismal education system - problems familiar to everyone living in Georgia's regions.

Indeed, maybe it is not only the problems that are similar. While Armenians and Georgians in Akhaltsikhe never seem to tire of highlighting how fundamentally different they are, outsiders find it hard to tell the two groups apart.

"I've been living with a Georgian family in an Armenian neighborhood for two years," smiles the town's only American resident, "and apart from the fact that they speak different languages, I just can't tell the difference."