Democracy Under Siege

Once hailed as the Black Sea’s democratic beacon, Georgia now teeters between its European aspirations and a return to post-Soviet authoritarian reflexes.

When protesters set fire to barricades in Tbilisi over the weekend, the smoke that rose above Freedom Square carried the residue of Georgia’s long and troubled struggle to define itself as a democracy, as a European nation and as a state still shadowed by the ghosts of empire.

Saturday’s local elections, marred by violence, arrests, and accusations of a coup attempt, mark the latest act in a drama that has stretched across three decades of fragile independence.

Prime Minister Irakli Kobakhidze called the protests an “attempted coup,” vowing severe reprisals against what he branded “foreign agents.” Opposition figures, meanwhile, denounced the government’s crushing of dissent as a slide into authoritarianism. Between these two narratives lies the uncomfortable truth which is that Georgia’s democracy, once seen as a model for the post-Soviet world, is fraying under the weight of paranoia and populism.

The weekend’s clashes were ostensibly over municipal polls - a routine event that should have passed with little fanfare. Instead, they became a referendum on Georgia’s political soul. The ruling Georgian Dream party, in power since 2012, claimed sweeping victories in all cities and councils, even as most opposition groups boycotted the vote, alleging manipulation and intimidation. For a country still recovering from the disputed parliamentary elections of 2024, the results only deepened public mistrust.

The roots of this crisis run deep. Georgia’s post-Soviet history has always oscillated between democratic promise and political repression. In 2003, the Rose Revolution toppled Eduard Shevardnadze’s corrupt regime, ushering in a new era of reform under Mikheil Saakashvili. But Saakashvili’s own rule grew increasingly autocratic, and by the time Georgian Dream ousted him, many hoped the pendulum would finally settle in the middle - a stable, European democracy grounded in the rule of law.

Instead, the pendulum has swung back. The current government has jailed opposition figures, muzzled the press, and raided civil-society groups — actions disturbingly reminiscent of Russia’s methods, not Brussels’. Western diplomats have accused the government of democratic backsliding and of deliberately stalling Georgia’s long-promised path to European Union membership, enshrined in its constitution but frozen by Brussels last year. Kobakhidze and his allies, for their part, claim that the West seeks to drag Georgia into the war in Ukraine - a conspiratorial refrain borrowed from Moscow’s propaganda lexicon.

At the heart of this confrontation lies a question as old as Georgia’s independence: who truly speaks for the Georgian people? The government insists it is defending stability and sovereignty against foreign meddling. The opposition argues that it is defending democracy against creeping authoritarianism. Both wrap themselves in patriotic rhetoric, but only one side controls the police, the courts, and the airwaves.

Georgia’s turmoil cannot be understood without reference to geography. Wedged between Russia, Turkey, and the Black Sea, it has long been a strategic prize.

Since the 2008 war with Russia, which ended with the loss of Abkhazia and South Ossetia, Tbilisi has sought security through integration with the West. Yet each crisis nudges it closer to the orbit of its northern neighbour. The rhetoric of ‘foreign agents’ and ‘subversive acts’ would not sound out of place in the Kremlin.

For Europe, Georgia’s drift poses a dilemma. Brussels has tied accession to reforms in judicial independence, press freedom, and transparency. But every crackdown in Tbilisi weakens the EU’s leverage and strengthens Moscow’s hand. A country once courted as the democratic success story of the Caucasus now risks becoming another cautionary tale of democratic decay.

Still, Georgia’s streets continue to speak. Even after police fired water cannons and arrested opposition leaders, hundreds of demonstrators returned to parliament on Sunday, vowing to save democracy. Their numbers were smaller, but their defiance echoed the courage that once inspired the Rose Revolution.

For now, Georgian Dream’s grip appears firm. But as history in this volatile region shows, repression often buys only temporary calm. Georgia’s rulers would do well to remember that legitimacy cannot be manufactured by force and that the dream of democracy, once awakened, is not so easily extinguished.