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Chronicle of the War in Abkhazia
This article was originally published on the Center for Social Justice website. The title, text, and terminology are reproduced without changes. All rights belong to the Center for Social Justice. Publication date: September 27, 2024.
“I am responding to your latent machine-gun fire from the newspaper ‘Literary Georgia’, your machine-gun volley of May 26, 1989, it shook me a little.
I call your newspaper a machine gun because it has long-range power and operates throughout our republic, while I shoot at you from a small-caliber one (regional newspaper ‘Bzyb’) — but keep in mind, it hits hard and aims straight at the eye, not the brow.
Dear colleague Guram Pandjikidze! Transparency is one thing, but we must write the truth!”
The author of this statement is Anatoly Vozba, a member of the Union of Writers and the Union of Journalists of Abkhazia, in response to an article by Georgian writer and publicist Guram Pandjikidze, who had reacted to a letter by the leader of the South Ossetian separatist movement Alan Chochiev, who supported his Abkhaz colleagues. In his extensive article, Chochiev went beyond the issue of South Ossetia and touched on the topic of Abkhazia, specifically criticizing Vozba’s article previously published in the newspaper Bzyb. One could say the quoted letter from Vozba is a reply to a reply.
The newspaper Literary Georgia was the official organ of the Union of Writers of Georgia. In addition to discussing and publishing literary works, it featured historical and political letters, often thematically intertwined. Literary Georgia made a significant contribution to promoting national topics and raising related issues in society.
Previously apolitical and focused on promoting the arts, by the late 1980s the newspaper found itself at the forefront of Georgian national, or nationalist, discourse. In 1990, the circulation of the publication quadrupled compared to 1988. About a fifth of the people in the Republic of Georgia subscribed to the newspaper. In 1989-1990, the number of subscribers doubled in the republic’s regions where ethnic tensions obtained, such as Abkhazia, Shida Kartli, and Kvemo Kartli. But in areas inhabited by non-Georgians, such as Gudauta, Java, and the Javakheti region, there were almost no subscribers.
In Abkhazian society, the Gudauta district newspaper Bzyb, published in both Russian and Abkhaz, played a role similar to that of Literary Georgia. Unlike Literary Georgia (or any other large-circulation Georgian newspaper), Bzyb had a significantly lower circulation, although it was sufficient to meet (or create) demand among the Abkhaz population living in Abkhazia.
The role of newspapers (and likely radio and television broadcasters) in the Georgian-Abkhaz conflict became especially important after the tragedy of April 9, 1989. In those days, both Georgian and Abkhaz newspapers published articles filled with mutual accusations daily.
It all began with the Lykhny appeal. On March 18, 1989, tens of thousands of Abkhaz gathered in the village of Lykhny in the Gudauta district and sent a letter to Moscow. Based on historical grievances against the Georgians, they portrayed Georgian-Abkhaz relations as an aggressor-victim dynamic and, following this logic, demanded the political status of Abkhazia be elevated to that of a union republic, which both sides perceived as a separation of Abkhazia from Georgia. The letter read: “We ask the Supreme Soviet of the CPSU and the Council of Ministers of the USSR to restore the status of Abkhazia as it was in 1921, during the era of V. Lenin.”
The Georgian response was swift, with protests by Georgians living in the autonomous republic in Abkhazia. On April 4 solidarity rallies began in Tbilisi, organized by the Ilia Chavchavadze Society. Demonstrators demanded punishment for those who signed the Lykhny appeal and spoke of the oppression of Georgians in Abkhazia and the discriminatory personnel policies of the central government against Georgians. Various slogans were used at the rallies: “Stop the terror against Georgians in Georgia!”, “Stop the Russification of Abkhazia!”, “Stop the falsification of history!” Anti-Abkhaz slogans were also heard, labeling the Abkhaz “guests” who should not have any territorial or other privileges. A few days later, the main demand of the demonstrators shifted to the restoration of Georgia’s independence.
On April 9, 1989, Moscow crushed the demonstration, with several deaths, and restored control over Tbilisi. However, the victory was short-lived. Moscow completely lost legitimacy in the eyes of Georgian society — to the point that even the Communist Party of Georgia began distancing itself from the central government at the rhetorical level. Over time the situation in Tbilisi calmed down, and control passed to the national movement. Censorship in the media noticeably weakened, resulting in Georgian-Abkhaz discussions in the public space taking on a completely different scale.
As previously noted, after April 9 the situation in Tbilisi more or less calmed down, but tensions in Abkhazia remained high. The Georgian population in various regions (Ochamchira, Sukhumi, Gagra) periodically held protests, demanding punishment for those who signed the Lykhny appeal. These protests were compounded by the tragedy in Tbilisi. In particular, it was pointed out that the April events started because of the Abkhazians. The situation was further exacerbated by the stance taken by the Abkhazians themselves after the events of April 9. Echoing Moscow’s propaganda, they blamed the demonstrators for the April tragedy, claiming that they had been misled by radicals, and attributed the deaths of those at the rally to a stampede.
After the April 9, 1989, tragedy in Tbilisi, the center of protest in Sukhumi became Abkhaz State University. Students from the Georgian sector declared a strike, demanding that the professors who had signed the Lykhny appeal retract their signatures. This particularly concerned the university’s rector, Aleko Gvaramia. As subsequent events showed, the creation and existence of Abkhaz State University significantly contributed to deepening the Georgian-Abkhaz conflict.
For nearly a decade this institution served as a space for first silent, then open confrontation. This article was created through content analysis, specifically examining Georgian, Russian, and Abkhaz periodicals, studying archival documentation stored in the Central Archive of Georgia, and analyzing existing scholarly and non-scholarly literature, including internet sources and recording oral accounts.
Abkhazia at the end of the 1970s
The Georgian-Abkhaz conflict spans nearly a century, but initially it did not have an ethnic character. The conflict arose on socio-political grounds and only later took on an ethnic dimension, which completely transformed it. Despite the Soviet Union presenting itself as a state that promoted social class ideology, in practice, the “national” dimension was far more powerful and all-encompassing than that of class. Soviet national policy not only defined territories and republics but also shaped social classes.
The peoples inhabiting the empire were divided into developed and underdeveloped groups, with corresponding access to economic and political privileges. As a result of Soviet national policy, the Abkhazians were considered the titular nation in the territory of Abkhazia, which allowed them to be artificially promoted to party and other bureaucratic positions. Later, when the conflict became open, the government of the Autonomous Republic of Abkhazia found itself in a rather strange situation. In fact, two national “clans” emerged in high government positions (and in lower bureaucratic ones as well), each with different visions of the state structure, and accordingly, different goals and paths for achieving them.
Despite this, the Abkhazians lagged behind the Georgians living in Abkhazia in terms of economic and social development. One reason for this was access to higher education.
By 1979, Abkhazia had only three scientific and educational institutions: the Dmitry Gulia Abkhaz Institute of Humanitarian Studies, the Maxim Gorky Sukhumi Pedagogical Institute, and the Subtropical Agriculture Institute of Georgia. The first was a research institute without an educational department. While the Pedagogical Institute was an educational institution, its capabilities were quite limited. The Subtropical Agriculture Institute trained students in technical disciplines, and for some reason, was predominantly attended by Georgians (though the institute also had a Russian sector).
According to 1979 data, only 1.4% of Abkhazians spoke Georgian, even though most of the humanities programs in the republic were taught in Georgian. In the 1960s, about one-third of Abkhazian students received their education outside the republic, compared to only 8% of Georgian students. From the 1960s, the number of Abkhazian students attending various universities grew, peaking at 2,500 in 1967-68. But in the 1970s the number began to decline. Even fewer Abkhazian students pursued postgraduate education (the equivalent of today’s master’s programs), around 34%.
In 1979, there were only 259 scientists and researchers in Abkhazia. Access to education partially influenced the class structure of Abkhazian society — on the Soviet scale, the Abkhazians were among the leading groups in agriculture.
In 1977-78, alongside the creation and adoption of a new constitution for the Autonomous Republic of Abkhazia, part of the Abkhazian intelligentsia and party members sent a letter to Moscow on December 17, 1977. On twelve pages, historical grievances against Georgia were outlined. These accusations included the forced overthrow of the Abkhazian Soviets by the Georgian Democratic Republic in 1918, the reduction of territorial status, “Beria-ism” — the forced hiring of pro-Georgian personnel in Abkhazia, the closure of Abkhazian schools, the reduction of the status of the Abkhaz language and its switch to the Georgian alphabet, Georgian demographic “expansion,” and the portrayal of Abkhazia by Georgian historiography as part of Georgia’s political and social space. Alongside these historical accusations, the letter also addressed social issues, devoting significant attention to the oppression of Abkhazians by Georgians. Based on these arguments, the authors and signatories demanded that Moscow establish Abkhazian broadcasting, a printing press, a university, and most importantly, that Abkhazia join with Russia.
The Communist Party of Georgia resorted to radical measures — some of the signatories were removed from their positions, and a few were even expelled from the party. In May 1978, amid the ongoing crisis in Abkhazia, Ivan Kapitanov, the CPSU Central Committee Secretary for Personnel and Organizational Work, arrived in Sukhumi. He acknowledged the concerns of the Abkhazians, satisfied several of their demands (including those regarding the university), reinstated some of the dismissed signatories, but categorically refused to change Abkhazia’s status. As a result of these decisions, the tension in Sukhumi and other cities did not subside — on the contrary, it continued for almost another year. Abkhazians illegally changed Georgian toponyms, desecrated monuments to prominent Georgian national figures, and sometimes engaged in physical confrontation.
Georgian society, whether intellectuals or dissidents, perceived the concessions of the Communist Party of Georgia as a defeat, especially since the party avoided discussing the Abkhaz issue both in open and closed meetings. For these reasons, various social and intellectual groups strengthened the belief that Moscow was supporting and encouraging the Abkhaz, while Tbilisi was unable to protect Georgian interests in Abkhazia.
Demographic issues were relevant not only for the Abkhaz but also for Georgians, especially in dissident circles. They couldn’t understand why an ethnic minority (the Abkhaz) held disproportionately more positions in Abkhazia compared to the ethnic majority (Georgians) and why the central government was satisfying their “illegitimate” demands. Questions of Russification and the dominance of the Russian language in Abkhazia also appeared. These issues gained particular relevance in the 1980s and 1990s, becoming subjects of disagreement and controversy. Among the intelligentsia, the Georgian idea of ethno-territorialism and a historical vision, in which Abkhazia was considered exclusively Georgian land and the Abkhaz were viewed as newcomers, as guests, became increasingly popular.
Against the backdrop of such political tension, Abkhaz State University was founded in 1979, based on the Sukhumi Pedagogical Institute. The establishment of the university sparked heated debate even before its opening. There was a dispute over its name — while the Abkhaz demanded it be named “Abkhazian,” they cited the practice in the North Caucasus where toponyms of autonomous republics were used in the names of institutions. Georgians, however, insisted on including the word “Sukhumi,” believing that by using the word “Abkhazia” in the institution’s name, the Abkhaz were trying to distance themselves from Georgia.
Abkhaz State University was divided into three linguistic sectors — Russian (40%), Georgian (30%), and Abkhazian (30%). The Georgian and Abkhaz sectors took on ethnic dimensions (as other local ethnic groups did not speak these two languages). At the same time, all applicants could enter the Russian sector, since a large part of the population of Abkhazia spoke Russian. Moreover, with the support of Tbilisi, Russian universities accepted Abkhaz students without exams, and Tbilisi State University allocated a quota of 500 places for residents of Abkhazia (it is unknown to what extent this quota was reserved solely for ethnic Abkhaz).
Abkhaz State University was designed for residents of both Abkhazia and western Georgia. Moreover, those who could not enter Tbilisi were transferred there, not only due to relatively low competition but also because it was easy to “arrange” entry with money. It was well known that corruption flourished at Abkhaz State University, especially in the Russian and Georgian sectors. For example, admission to the law faculty “cost” between 10 and 15 thousand rubles. It’s also worth noting that classes for all three groups were held in the same building, often even with the same staff — including in the Abkhaz sector, where teaching was supposed to be held in the Abkhaz language, but in practice was held in Russian.
It can be said that in the 1980s, access to higher education for the Abkhaz and residents of Abkhazia increased significantly compared to previous decades.
1989 was a difficult year for Georgia. The tragedy of April 9 completely changed society and the state; the year was filled with interethnic tensions and human tragedies. On April 19, a landslide in the village of Tsablana in mountainous Adjara claimed the lives of 23 people. At the same time, beyond Georgia’s borders, the Nagorno-Karabakh conflict entered an active phase, which immediately affected the Kvemo Kartli region, where the risk of potential confrontation between the Armenians and Azerbaijanis living there increased. In South Ossetia, the separatist movement “Adamon Nykhas” was gaining momentum, and in Abkhazia, the Georgian-Abkhaz conflict was entering an entirely new phase.
As more time passed after the events of April, the Georgian national movement got stronger, with its nationalist views, slogans, and statements escalating the situation. The Communist Party of Georgia did not understand how to resolve the situation in Abkhazia. Its only strategy was to remain silent on the issue. On the other hand, the pro-government press began publicly criticizing the incomprehensible silence of the authorities for the first time:
“Who are we trying to deceive? This started on April 2. Ten days passed as if nothing happened — no reaction. The complete disregard for student actions led professors and lecturers to join them, after which the dialogue, though it began, was dishonest and sometimes humiliating,” wrote Shota Lashkhia, professor and head of the Geography Department at Abkhaz State University.
A similar opinion was expressed at a meeting of the Abkhaz regional committee on April 14, 1989: “Unfortunately, the party organizations in our country are no longer able to cope with the dynamics of public events. In consequence, it can be said directly — they have lost control of the situation and have encountered not just an unmanageable, but an unpredictable situation. This was a factor that led to the tragedy in Tbilisi.”
The student protest, which began on April 3 near the Sukhumi Cathedral and was later joined by university professors and students, did not stop. The protests grew more and more massive, with one very simple demand: that Rector Gvaramia withdraw his signature. Meanwhile, the government remained silent on this issue, as well as on other facts and events related to ethnic tensions in Abkhazia. For example, the incident of April 1 in the village of Leselidze, when a bus full of Georgians returning from a rally was attacked, was hushed up. The press reported 14 casualties, but documents confirmed that 21 people had been injured, seven of whom had been shot. Moreover, two different buses were attacked, and not once, but twice. Despite attempts to conceal this fact, information about it spread throughout Georgia, and the next day, a large rally was announced in Sukhumi.
Although party organs actively discussed the events unfolding at the university — and even met with striking students — the public did not receive complete information. The local press operated under strict government control, and as a result of covert operations, the identities of all active students and academic staff were established.
No one talked about the reasons and motives behind the strike, let alone covered the ongoing problem and current events. On April 25, students from the Georgian Institute of Subtropical Agriculture joined the strike. According to the government press, they demanded that those responsible for the events of April 1 be punished. Officials sent from Tbilisi, including Minister of Education Guram Enukidze, urged the students to end the strike and return to the classrooms, but no one listened. The Abkhaz, in turn, refused to compromise, and the situation reached a deadlock.
Thousands of rumors and provocations were spreading in the city and throughout the republic. The most resonant was the circulation of Russian-language proclamations in Sukhumi with openly chauvinistic content — so serious that all formal and informal groups operating in Abkhazia condemned and distanced themselves from it.
In the first half of May, the protest expanded even further. The strikers moved to the Konstantine Gamsakhurdia Theater building, where theater staff also expressed solidarity. The informal organization “Ilia Chavchavadze Society” joined the protest movement, and an organizational headquarters was formed through which the protesters voiced their discontent, which soon spread to the entire Georgian population of Abkhazia. Factories like the Sukhumi Tobacco Factory, Sukhum Pribor Plant, the confectionery factory, and others went on strike for several days. The situation became critical — not only was the daily life of the republic disrupted, but the protesters’ demands took on a clearly nationalistic tone, further complicating the situation for Tbilisi and worsening the already tense political atmosphere. As a result, the academic year was on the verge of collapse.
On May 14, 1989, the headquarters sent about 40 demonstrators from Sukhumi to Tbilisi for a meeting with the new secretary of the Central Committee of the Georgian Republic, Givi Gumbaridze. After several hours of negotiations, Gumbaridze met the protesters’ demands, and on May 14, Decree No. 343 was issued, separating the Georgian sector from Abkhaz State University and converting it into a branch of Tbilisi State University.
The Abkhaz were strongly opposed to the university’s division, explaining their position by the logic of “Soviet internationalism,” although this hardly reflected reality. On the other hand, as recalled by Zurab Papaskiri in his autobiography, the idea of division had many opponents, including Akaki Bakradze, who, according to Papaskiri, urged students to continue fighting for Abkhaz State University from within.
The protest movement, which began on April 2, 1989, in Abkhazia, ended on May 14 with the division of Abkhaz State University. An analysis of those events shows that the authorities did not understand how to resolve the conflict that arose on ethnic grounds. Their response did not correspond to the threats posed by the strike.
The silencing of events in the print media exacerbated the situation and created an atmosphere of uncertainty, which contributed to the spread of various rumors and, most importantly, distanced the state from society.
The Georgian demonstrators did not back down. Their goal was simple: to punish those who had signed the anti-Georgian letter. In turn, the Abkhaz side refused to compromise. Although Abkhaz State University was eventually divided (later the theater, football club, and other organizations and unions were also split), this decision did not help de-escalate the situation — on the contrary, it only worsened it and ultimately led to the bloody confrontation of July 1989.
1989, the third year of Perestroika in the Soviet Union. Everything was going off the rails for Moscow: the economy was collapsing, food shortages were growing, ethnic conflicts were intensifying, the bureaucratic system was crumbling, and the USSR was losing geopolitical influence. And a conflict was brewing in Moscow itself, where two political centers had already emerged — the radical Communists, who foresaw the weakening of the empire and refused to accept it, and Mikhail Gorbachev and his team with the idea of transforming the country.
Gorbachev began reforming the highest representative and executive bodies of power. His goal was to reduce the one-party political influence of the Communist Party. This was supposed to make the country more democratic, eliminate political opponents, and rid the country of the so-called radicals — the elite members of the Communist Party who did not want to acknowledge the weakening of the Soviet Union, and who were increasingly expressing dissatisfaction with Gorbachev’s rule.
A cumbersome two-tier structure was created, consisting of the Congress of People’s Deputies, a kind of permanent constitutional assembly, and a smaller “working parliament,” the Supreme Soviet, elected from members of the Congress. Importantly, the candidate for the post of prime minister, nominated by the chairman of the Congress (Gorbachev), had to be approved by a vote, after which the new head of the cabinet of ministers would present candidates for other government positions to the deputies. As part of the approval process, the heads of the Ministry of Defense and the KGB, Yazov and Kryuchkov, were also forced to appear and answer questions.
The new body was to include 2,250 deputies, elected from territorial, national-territorial, and public organizations. Elections were held across the Soviet Union from March 11 to 24, 1989, and a new parliament was formed. From Georgia, among other candidates, Vladislav Ardzinba from the Gudauta district was elected, who had previously chaired the Council for Interethnic and Internationalist Education of the Abkhaz ASSR. The first session of the Congress of People’s Deputies was scheduled for May 25.
The Congress of People’s Deputies was turning from a formal body into a genuine parliament, where deputies could address issues concerning their territories in front of the 286-million-strong Soviet audience for the first time. The political changes taking place in the center of power created new opportunities, which instilled hope in the Abkhaz people for a revision of the political status of their autonomous republic. This was especially significant after Vladislav Ardzinba was appointed (and eventually confirmed) as a member of the Council of Nationalities in the USSR Supreme Soviet.
News of the division of Abkhaz State University received only muted coverage in the press, particularly from the Georgian press controlled by the government, which remained silent while ethnic conflict spiraled out of control.
On May 15, the Abkhaz organized a rally in Sukhumi. According to Bzyb, participants carried photos of Lenin and Gorbachev, demanding adherence to Lenin’s national policy — principles of friendship and equality among nations. They built their arguments on Leninist principles and the idea of Perestroika. Opposing the university’s division, the protesters cited economic unviability, which they argued contradicted the policy of “self-accounting” (a form of economic self-sufficiency). Rhetorically, the Abkhaz presented themselves as supporters of Perestroika.
The Communist Party of Georgia struggled to keep up with events in Abkhazia. In the public’s eyes, it was unable to defend the rights of the Georgian population living in Abkhazia. In response, the national movement stepped in, but its nationalist rhetoric only inflamed tensions further. The Abkhaz feared losing their political positions in the autonomous republic. As previously noted, the Georgian population (and the national movement as a whole) perceived the ethnic selection of minority candidates (or more precisely, the disproportionate representation) as discrimination against the majority. This issue was first openly addressed in the People’s Education newspaper on May 31, sparking significant controversy in Abkhazia.
It became evident that the Communist Party was not in control of the situation and had no clear plan for de-escalation. It’s interesting to compare different versions of the Abkhaz regional committee’s newspaper, published in three languages: Georgian (Soviet Abkhazia), Russian (Soviet Abkhazia), and Abkhaz (Apsny Kapsh). From mid-May onward, the Russian version increasingly featured Abkhaz nationalist rhetoric, while the Georgian version remained silent, avoiding any mention of ethnic issues (apart from official statements).
By May 1989, amid the rise of the Georgian national movement, the Communist Party of Georgia was forced to adopt a nationalist discourse to retain its electorate. While the Abkhaz aligned with the processes unfolding in Moscow, Tbilisi began to distance itself. It was decided that, with government approval, May 26 would be celebrated as Georgian Independence Day throughout the country.
Even government-controlled newspapers published anti-Soviet articles with little censorship. Topics that were previously forbidden were now openly discussed, such as the Russian conquest of Georgia in 1921 and the debunking of myths that the Soviet regime had created to rewrite history, especially regarding the first Georgian republic.
On May 15, at the Sukhumi rally, the Abkhaz raised the issue of celebrating May 26 in Abkhazia. Vladimir Khishba, the first secretary of the Abkhaz regional committee, told the crowd that Georgian Independence Day would not be celebrated. While Tbilisi saw May 26 as a day of remembrance for lost independence, which the Georgian people sought to reclaim, in Abkhazia, this date was associated with anti-Abkhaz discourse — a national holiday for Georgians, symbolizing unity and strength against separatists. The Abkhaz, both publicly and in official meetings, demanded that no celebrations be held in Abkhazia, arguing that the historical context, including the establishment of Soviet power in Abkhazia in 1918 and the formation of the Abkhaz Commune, should be considered.
In Abkhaz historiography, both then and now, the period of the first Georgian republic is viewed as a time of occupation. Thus, May 26 held no significance for the Abkhaz, and the maroon flag was seen as a negative symbol, especially in the already tense context of May 1989.
Despite Abkhaz opposition and Vladimir Khishba’s statement, Georgian Independence Day was celebrated in Abkhazia on May 26, 1989. The day was marked with maroon flags, marches, and anti-Soviet and nationalist slogans. However, at that time, the attention of Soviet citizens was focused on the live broadcast of the first Congress of People’s Deputies, where speakers, for the first time, were free from censorship and could say what they wanted.
The Georgian representatives began their speeches on May 29. Professor Tamaz Gamkrelidze, in his brief address, reminded the audience of Georgia’s independence, achieved in 1918, and its loss. During his speech, he essentially declared the Soviet government an occupier:
“Radical reorganization of the socio-economic life of the USSR depends on significant changes in the overall political structure of the country. In connection with the situation in the Georgian SSR, fundamental questions arise, in particular the condemnation of the annexation of the independent Georgian Democratic Republic in February 1921 as a gross violation of the May Agreement.
The May Agreement, ratified by Vladimir Lenin on May 7, 1920, between the sovereign states of Democratic Georgia and Soviet Russia, recognized the basic principles of this treaty as legally valid, guaranteeing the real and full sovereignty of the Soviet Republic of Georgia.”
On May 30, Tamaz Gamkrelidze delivered another speech at the Congress, this time fully focused on the events of April 9. Over different days, other Georgian deputies, including Jumber Patiashvili, Givi Gumbaridze, and Shalva Amonashvili, also spoke, but none addressed the unfolding events in Abkhazia.
On June 1, Vladislav Ardzinba gave his address. Up until then, the Abkhaz had been writing letters to Moscow to put forth their demands. But in this new reality, they now had a platform to address the entire Soviet Union directly. Ardzinba largely reiterated what had been outlined in the Lykhny Declaration, delivering historical and political accusations against Georgia, culminating in the central demand — restore Abkhazia’s status as a Union Republic:
“All of this led to the organization of a sanctioned rally on March 18, 1989, in the village of Lykhny, on a historical square where, from ancient times, fateful decisions for the people were made. The declaration was signed by about 32,000 people, including the heads of several higher Party and Soviet bodies, all deputies of Abkhaz nationality. The declaration was also signed by more than five thousand Russians, Armenians, Greeks, Georgians, and representatives of other peoples. The request was made to restore the status of the Soviet Socialist Republic, which Abkhazia held in 1921 during Lenin’s lifetime.”
The political changes in the Soviet Union directly affected the political process in Georgia. The Abkhaz saw their future within the USSR, as it promised ethnic privileges. Thus, they sought to prove their loyalty to the central government, with their political rhetoric aligning with Moscow’s.
Meanwhile, Georgian society, especially after the events of April 9, was striving for independence. Georgian deputies in the Abkhaz ASSR were in a difficult position — on one hand, they had to take into account the “national awakening” emerging from Tbilisi, while on the other, they had to operate within the Soviet political system, which still existed and exerted significant influence over the region. The Abkhaz openly supported Perestroika and used the opportunities it provided. However, the Georgian political elite in Abkhazia, caught between these two forces, struggled to respond effectively, which might have otherwise defused tensions.
The First Congress of People’s Deputies was a logical and open confirmation of the aspirations of the two political centers in Georgia, Tbilisi and Gudauta. Both, indirectly or directly, expressed to the entire Soviet Union their desire to change territorial status. Although the primary focus of the Georgian deputies’ speeches concerned the April 9 events, this issue cannot be separated from the broader struggle for independence.
Conclusion:
On May 14, 1989, with the permission of Georgia’s Ministry of Education, Abkhaz State University was formally divided into two parts. Later, the USSR Ministry of Education deemed this decision impractical and reminded Tbilisi that decisions regarding higher education institutions were made by the central government. Moscow’s stance was ignored.
Structurally and bureaucratically, dividing Abkhaz State University was not easy. As mentioned earlier, faculty members were previously employed in two (or even three) sectors. After the split, there were many unfilled teaching hours, particularly in the Georgian sector, affecting technical subjects and foreign language studies.
Nevertheless, by July 1, 1989, the Tbilisi State University branch in Sukhumi had created 17 departments. By that time, 2,057 students had transferred from Abkhaz State University to Tbilisi, half of whom were receiving scholarships. Plans were made to enroll 315 students for the 1989–1990 academic year.
The university was divided for political reasons, without a thorough assessment of the educational consequences for Abkhazia. On the other hand, the university was more than just a place of higher education. In Soviet national policy, universities played a crucial role in fostering and strengthening national cultures and intellectual elites, where new scholars were meant to be “born”.
For the Abkhaz people, having a local university was essential to preserving their cultural identity. The opening of Abkhaz State University in 1979 met the Abkhaz people’s needs and contributed to the long-term growth of their demands. The university, along with the knowledge acquired there, strengthened Abkhaz self-identification, which, in turn, fueled local nationalism.
It’s also important to note that the university itself wasn’t the core issue — rather, it was Soviet national policy, which promoted a primordial understanding of nationhood and created a contradictory view of history. History became a weapon. For decades, Abkhaz State University became the site of constant scholarly disputes over the question of whom Abkhazia “belonged to”, Georgians or Abkhaz, which, in turn, determined who deserved privileges. The university became a battleground for competing national historiographies.
None of the political movements operating in Georgia in the 1980s originated from the working class. Both the Abkhaz and Georgian movements were led by individuals with higher humanitarian education. Universities played a significant role in protests; such was the case in Tbilisi in 1956, when students rallied in defense of Stalin’s name in Georgia, and again in 1978, during the so-called “Day of Language Defense.”
By 1989, the Communist Party of Georgia found itself in a difficult situation. It had no experience managing the ethnic conflicts that were emerging in the republic. Initially, its only reaction was to conceal the facts from the public, as it had done during previous crises. Unlike the protests of 1978, when media coverage was minimal, the context in 1989 was entirely different. Both Georgian and Abkhaz nationalist movements were gaining momentum, and nationalist rhetoric was already seeping into the press. Social discontent was growing in the republic.
The tragedy of April 9 caused a complete radicalization of Georgian society, destroying any space for compromise. The Party was unable to respond to the heightened demands of Georgian society. Although the Party gradually adopted nationalist rhetoric, it became clear that these actions were leading to its own downfall. Moreover, the Party was unable to adequately counter the Abkhaz.
The Communist Party of Georgia faced the dilemma of having to consider the national demands of the public, oppose Moscow, and stop the Abkhaz separatist movement, while simultaneously adapting to changes happening in the Soviet center.
The Abkhaz, in contrast to Georgian communists, found themselves in a more advantageous position. Their nationalist rhetoric aligned well with the changes in Moscow. While the USSR did not revise Abkhazia’s status during its existence, the events that followed clearly showed where Moscow’s sympathies lay.
Ultimately, Tbilisi complied with the demands of Georgian students by dividing the university along ethnic lines — this decision by the Communist Party of Georgia was a critical mistake that further exacerbated the situation in Abkhazia. Abkhaz protests soon followed, escalating into violent confrontations on July 15–16. Over two days of clashes across Abkhazia, 22 people were killed, and around 500 were injured, the first casualties in the Georgian-Abkhaz conflict.
