Georgia: The Protests, Act 1 – a review 

by Nick Awde

Who: The People of Georgia and the Government
What: A month of street protests against an oligarch/Russian-puppet government
Where: Centred around the Parliament building on Rustaveli Avenue, Tbilisi
When: November 28-December 28, 2024
And… Russian-style, the Government uses social media to control, influence, undermine, threaten and justify – big budget Bolshoi/Soviet theatre overkill. The People however focus on social media as a way to organise and share information among small peer groups, virtual revolutionary cells where new ones spring up if others are removed – the nimble free Fringe model. So let me recommend reading this review along with Tamar Mchedlidze’s informative OC Media piece How social media has shaped Georgia’s protests.


In a fiery mountainous republic not so far away, the forces of good and evil are locked in a struggle for the soul of the nation. It’s a production on a national scale, an immersive promenade epic where every night is different. It’s free, there’s no need to pre-book and everyone is invited. In fact it’s all stage and for the public there’s no seating – because everyone’s a performer, everyone’s a writer, everyone’s a director.

In this republic – Georgia – the authoritarian Government has refused to join Western sanctions on its neighbour Russia after it invaded Ukraine, instead it damns the West as a ‘global war party’ and thwarts EU accession to the European Union. For their part, the vast majority of the People want to join the EU – it’s even in the constitution – and, after a murky Government victory in elections condemned as a Russian special operation, everyone takes to the streets, calling for new elections.

Somewhere backstage is the Government star Ivanishvili – Oligarch, French passport-holder, backed by Russian colonisers and US tech bros, unelected puppetmaster of the dramatically entitled Georgian Dream, the ruling party he founded. 

Standing in the spotlight is his nemesis Salome – President, French passport-holder, elected by the Oligarch’s party in rosier times, now vowing allegiance solely to the People who can no longer rely on their fragmented opposition parliamentary politicians to halt the Oligarch’s Kremlin juggernaut and to save their nation from the brink of Russian ruin.

This is a production that mixes, with varying degrees of success, the contrastive schools of the Russian/Soviet empire (divisive, propagandist) and of the Georgian republic (unifying, inclusive). Its first act opens in Tbilisi on Rustaveli Avenue, the capital’s high street, a natural traverse stage where the Parliament building jostles with theatres, the opera house, museums, cafes, hotels, cinemas, the old Marxist-Leninist Institute, city hall, shopping mall and boutiques framed by apartments above them. Modest squares at each end host public stages for national festivities and New Year concerts, the avenue forming a well-trod promenade between the two.

Post-punk voices from SKAZZ – via Formula NEWS

It is here that the curtain rises on Scene/Day 1, November 28, to introduce the People as they gather in anticipation before the Parliament building. The Government has declared it will postpone opening up negotiations for Georgia’s EU accession. The People are long used to turning out on Rustaveli Avenue, but this time is different – they will return every day for at least the next 31 scenes of Act 1.

Across a rat-a-tat of vignettes, the Government dispatches chorus lines of riot police, tear gas, water cannon, state thugs in anonymous black with batons and fists. The tension rises as the People seem about to be provoked into falling into Ivanishvili’s trap by responding in kind, but Salome steps into the street at their side and the moment (if not the violence) passes, casting the Oligarch deeper into the shadows. Despite the unabated threats and the dropping winter temperature, still the people come. 

Everyone has a part to play, often distressingly so, and it is shocking to see the men feature in the beatings and onstage/offstage abductions. Turning protest into art, the women are at the centre of any street action that the People control. Iconic moments abound. Water cannon become walk-through fountains where a flag-draped woman dances as the freezing jets drench her, confronted by hundreds of riot police someone puts on lipstick with the police riot shields for her mirror, a solitary protester charges another line of riot shields before she literally dives into them. Elsewhere, a post-punk band plays as fireworks explode like bombs around them, then there’s exposition of the Government’s search and arrest tactics when a man stands alone in the street draped in an EU flag knowing he will be snatched by OMON goons, which he is. Definitely no subtitles needed.

Two strides away from diving into the riot shields.

Tbilisi’s Mayor provides an unexpected comic turn when he defiantly orders the official Christmas decorations to be put up, only to find out that battering citizens under a sky of golden stars in the season of peace and joy is not a good look. Things backfire further when his giant Yuletide tree in Liberty Square is adorned with photos of the beaten and arrested.

Intermezzos are aplenty, and regular cameos on the People’s front include the dogs (who contrary to reports aren’t strays but ‘own’ the blocks) and EU lawmakers/officials. But, if we’re to be honest, the production suffers from a lack of visible, authentic Russian-inspired players who can lock horns with the central arguments. Instead there’s a soundtrack of Government invective over which the People feed each other, dance, sing, fusing festivity with defiance. 

Clearing space for traditional Georgian dance – via NetGazeti

The rest of the world tunes in on Day 24 when hundreds parade to the steps of the khorumi, a stately martial dance that’s in the veins of every Georgian, while Salome shadowboxes Ivanishvili. Offstage the Government nobbles her portable stage, so she commandeers the unloved municipal Christmas stage, slipping in from the side as her bodyguard pushes a Government offstage. She shares the news that the international community has confirmed the illegitimacy of the elections, then her mic goes dead. All credit to the tech crew who don’t skip a beat in handing her a loudhailer, through which she assures the People, “This space is ours!”

But how can a show convince when one half of the key protagonists is a no-show and is handed no lines to establish their character? What the Government cast offers is an unfocused stream of monologues from weak secondary characters – the Mayor claiming the protest crowds are smaller, the Prime Minister issuing threats to one and all from the press conference stage – with heavy-handed editing weighing down an already heavy-handed message.

So it becomes clear that we may never hear the monologue that establishes the Oligarch’s motivation and shows where the Fates are leading him. And that’s a shame. If this was a paying audience they’d demand their money back – although it’s the Government Show that they deserve a refund for, since the People Show is pulling them in every night and worth every penny/tetri. In reality, what we are watching is not two protagonists in a single play but in their own plays running in parallel.

Water music – Panduri player/singer

The two works actually present an inverse parallel. Within the People Play, Salome represents the Chorus, which is not to diminish her by now iconic role. Her solo commentary on the political machinations channels the true central character, the People, she leads by follows, fusing the People’s narrative with her presidential destiny so the rest of the world (and the floundering opposition) can understand. In the Government Play, Ivanishvili is the central figure who does not speak, relying on a Chorus of parliamentarian mouthpieces to drag the nation through the leaky plot of a wannabe Jacobean revenge play. 

The Government Show suffers additionally from being stubbornly text-based, its polemics incapable of adapting to street level spectacle unless manifested via the easy option of physical violence and intimidation – Ivanishvili’s iron grip over the People’s liberty does not mean he automatically wins their hearts.

Over at the People Show it’s physical theatre all the way via an infectious devised piece that takes over the vacated opposition politician playbook, daily improvising new scenes as responses to the rigidly one-note Government script, evolving in real-time one of the world’s great free fringe festivals.

Sidestepping this imbalance, things rack up to an impressive finale when a last-minute rewrite sees a string of parades by ethnic groups, religious groups, migrants, actors, musicians, financiers, businesses and so many more. Opera singers sing, dancers dance, cooks cook, until Day 30 brings US (partial) sanctions, much awaited, against Ivanishvili. If there was ever a moment to make an appearance from the Oligarch, this would be it. Instead the writers roll an apparatchik in front of us to deliver lines that hardly push the plot: “Ivanishvili and his family serve as an example to all Georgians, with love for the country being the highest reward.” Admittedly the American sanctions are not the expected deus ex machina from the EU, but they bring an interesting twist by making Trump/tech bros unwitting saviours of the moment. 

On the following Day 31, the People celebrate with a Chain of Unity, joining hands across Georgia and abroad, a necessary hommage to the Baltic Way of 1989. This final scene takes place on Act 1’s must-end date, the eve of December 29, when Salome’s constitutional tenure ends and her successor is installed. The new President is an ex-footballer, and while there is nothing wrong with being an ex-footballer, it screams the Government’s shrinking cast list. Even the understudies seem wary of stepping into the increasingly constricted spotlight of centrestage.

About ten more riot police followed. The offence? Standing still, armed with EU flag and bottle of water.

All this is played against a wider backdrop of course. Bored of the impasse, Russia, a producer always looking to break into new markets, has been extending existing productions in other countries like Ukraine or setting up new ones like Baltic cable cutting, shooting down a Azerbaijani airliner, buying elections in Romania, Moldova, Transnistria, Croatia, Germany and the USA – although its long-running coproduction in Syria has had to close early.

Meanwhile in Georgia, critiques are mainly public reviews online from the People at home and the Government’s useful idiots abroad. Both camps have depicted the protests as a maidan, a colour revolution, a fight against Orwellian forces, but, as commentator Nodar Rukhadze (@xonoda) posts, “What’s happening in Georgia goes beyond politics or any single issue. It’s the feeling of a nation waking up, of people standing together, not just against something, but for something. For dignity. For justice. For the future we know we deserve. It’s hard to describe, but it feels almost surreal. There’s awe in seeing so many people refusing to back down, defiance in the face of injustice, and this profound sense of connection with the thousands of strangers around you who share your pain, your anger, and your hope.”

This is no popular occupying the streets as we have seen in nations like Serbia that were not colonised by Russia. The action (in Act 1) does not rely on devices such as national strikes or unrest (nor student movements) but dual interpretations of national identity that have spread to every corner of the nation, where everyone is a part of one show or the other.

In the case of the People Show, it has so far attracted a cast of 1.2million, a staggering one third of the population. It’s a passion play of vignettes of morality, sacrifice, struggle and redemption acted out in public spaces by the community for the community. The People Show is less Oberammergau, more a proud Caucasian haka as choreographed by, say, Martha Graham, infused with flashes of humour. Disappointingly the Government Show turns out to be little more than a bullying Wizard of Oz that digs sourly and dourly deep into dictatorship lite rather than floating on the stirring patriotism of Henry V.

The producers of the Government Show seem not to grasp that it requires positive energy to perform even the most unpositive themes – a negative-driven performance can never convince the audience, plus the process will consume the performer. It is obvious that much of the problem lies in Russian/Soviet theatre, an influential school applied to politics, social engineering, oppression and war that has relied for more than a century of practice on the total suspension of belief before, during and after the show. Today it is highly effective through the multimedia model but its ‘truth’ struggles when placed in a live face-to-face setting. Even less successful is its offshoot oligarch theatre, a school that demonstrates how throwing money at a production does not guarantee quality, especially when all you can hire is D-grade cast and creatives.

Dancing on a platform through the water sprayed out of the Parliament building – via Formula NEWS

Conversely and unsurprisingly, the People Show is volunteer-led, hiring no one, and is based on local practice that protects and celebrates the joy of life, something that Russia and its intercessors instinctively suck out of anyone they make contact with (oligarchs and elites excepted). Crucially, we are seeing the People evolve and refine their technique and tools, as the Government… doesn’t.

We might expect an eleventh hour monologue, and Salome delivers – but leaves it till the very end, on Day 31 (December 28), keeping it short and sweet: “I am here, and I will spend the night here. Tomorrow, at 10am, I will wait for you at the Orbeliani Palace, and from there, I will tell you what tomorrow will be like. I will tell you what the following days will be like and what the days of victory will look like.”

That’s a worthy cliffhanger: the Chorus will spend the night in the theatre to be there to welcome the People to the new show first thing in the morning. It’s a masterful coup of writing as Salome segues into Act 2 and seamlessly merges both plays in the process, commanding the narrative. Obvious questions will then be where is Salome – on the barricades, behind bars or compromised by the opposition parties? Meanwhile the Government will pass its promised legislation to fire suspect public employees, suffocate protest rights and reprise the violence.

Cue Act 2. “When we win, we need to make a new season for the series 24 just about December 29 in Tbilisi,” posts commentator Marika Mikiashvili (@Mikiashvili_M) the night before. There’s a sneak preview in the split scene that introduces Act 2, Scene 1, when Salome addresses the People in the street at the same time as Ivanishvili instals her replacement in Parliament – an invitation-only affair where we finally experience this rarely seen other side of the stage used to its full potential. Wanting to be Hunger Games with another ending but instead giving out a revelatory Stranger Things vibe, the Anti-President stands on a podium backed by Georgian flags and serried burly figures – Flying Monkeys in black martial costume. 

Once sworn in, he patriotically addresses the audience of mostly men in suits. He is the ventriloquist’s dummy for the Wizard of Oz, who is cosplaying an audience member in the front row: “Our history clearly shows that, after countless struggles to defend our homeland and traditions, peace has always been one of the main goals and values for the Georgian people.” He is saying this of course to a nation where everyone knows that ‘peace’ means ‘Russian peace’.

The supra table hits the horizon on New Year’s Eve.

Act 2 opens at the height of the festive winter season, and fittingly food, dance and song are the People’s focus. A supra (traditional feast) table appears, stretching a full kilometre along Rustaveli Avenue where everyone brings New Year’s Eve food and drink to share. Traditional dance and polyphonic singing is everywhere, defying the Government’s accusations that the People’s director is a foreign agent/power. There is no director save the People, no writer save the People.

And yet, because the Government Show seems determined to stick to its Russian script, the People Show, despite all its participants’ incredible agency, now needs to trust writers of its own if Act 2 is to get to the concluding Act 3 (unlike Act 1, both are presently with undetermined run dates). Still, with co-production offers from the EU waiting in the wings – hopefully producing deeper pieces than mere entr’actes if Estonia’s seasoned EU High Representative for Foreign Affairs and Security Policy Kaja Kallas gets to join the team – whatever this combined next act brings, the People Show is sure to run and run.


The pix are mostly taken from videos of uncertain provenance – please let me know what credits they should have.

Knowledge is power! For those outside of the country, knowing about what’s happening in Georgia from the People who know what’s happening because they’re there in the middle of it is the best way to start supporting the People.
The President: Salome Zourabichvili on Twitter – @Zourabichvili_S
The Press: The last few years of Protests are forging a world-class Press in Georgia that is independent of both Government and NGOs. Here’s a trio of Twitter suggestions in English to start building your list – Batumelebi, Formula NEWS, OC Media – and send me your suggestions to add to the list.
The Parlance: Instagram reels of dialogues in the street that started as a DIY Podcast about Women in Music Industry – Diaci (pronounced ‘Di-atsi’)
The Photos: Instagram defining drone shots from Ezz Gaber – @ezz_gaber.

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