Georgian cultural scene: They should voluntarily declare themselves as agents

„Noch auf ihren Gräbern wird stehen: Nein! Nein! Nein!“ Für den legendären Theaterregisseur Robert Sturua sind die Proteste und Boykottaufrufe, die Georgiens Kulturszene und Gesellschaft in zwei unversöhnliche Lager spalten, nichts weiter als eine burleske Inszenierung: „Georgien ist im Grunde ein großes Theater, in dem jeder seine Rolle spielt. Manche treten aber nicht allein, sondern in Gruppen auf, die sich dann für wichtiger halten als andere.“

In diesen Tagen studiert der 85 Jahre alte Sturua das georgische Nationalepos „Der Recke im Tigerfell“ von Schota Rustaweli erstmals für die Bühne ein. Im großen Saal des Nationaltheaters am Tifliser Rustaweli-Boulevard erklärt Sturua in einer Proben­pause, in der sich die Schauspieler von seinen strengen, durch Mikrofon verstärkten Anweisungen erholen, was Rustawelis Heldenmärchen aus dem zwölften Jahrhundert um Ehre, Bruderschaft, Liebestreue und friedliches Zusammenleben heute aktuell macht. „Die Welt hat ihre Menschlichkeit verloren, das Verhältnis unter den Menschen ist zerrüttet“, sagt er.

Der Alt-Meister bezweifelt, ob die Menschheit angesichts atomarer Bedrohung, Naturkatastrophen und Seuchen das Jahr 2025 überhaupt erleben wird. Als Künstler und als öffentliche Person genießt Sturua in Georgien eine Unantastbarkeit, die er zuweilen zur Schau stellt. Unlängst gab er einem regierungsnahen Fernsehsender ein Interview von seinem Bett aus.

Schon in Sowjetzeiten genoss Sturua für seine regimekritischen Inszenierungen große Anerkennung auf beiden ­Seiten des Eisernen Vorhangs. Mit „Kvarkvare“ brachte er 1974 eine bittere Parodie auf das stalinistische Unterdrückungssystem auf die Bühne, die berühmt wurde – so etwas konnten sich damals nur wenige erlauben. Aus seiner politischen Weltsicht macht der Freigeist kein Geheimnis. „Die Europäische Union ist genauso wie die Sowjetunion, wenn nicht schlimmer“, findet er. Großbritannien sei bisher das einzige Land, das der europäischen Bevormundung entkommen konnte. Er persönlich sei gegen Georgiens Beitritt zur Europäischen Union. Er wolle nicht noch mal erleben, dass jemand wie einst Russland den Georgiern vorschreibt, was sie zu tun und zu lassen hätten.

Such views and claims are not uncommon among older Georgians. However, according to surveys, the clear majority of the population is in favor of joining the EU. The candidate status, which was only granted in December last year, was suspended in June due to the openly anti-EU outbursts from the ranks of the ruling Georgian Dream party and the passing of the so-called transparency law. This is identical to the Russian law on foreign agents from 2012, which is used to legally and financially harass and restrict the publication of voices critical of the government.

During the mass protests against the government's anti-European change of direction in the spring, Georgia's cultural scene played a key role. The suppression of independent voices began when the Minister of Culture, Thea Tsulukiani, took office. She replaced experienced, internationally networked cultural managers in all institutions with government-loyal, mostly non-specialist officials. Since then, the situation has become significantly more serious. The minister has suffered several defeats in labor law suits against the dismissals. At the same time, the boycott by numerous cultural workers is putting increasing pressure on state cultural institutions.

The prestigious Litera Prize of the Writers' House in Tbilisi had to be cancelled until further notice because 93 of the 110 applicants withdrew their texts after the appointment of a jury member loyal to the government but not an expert in the field. Georgia is represented at the Frankfurt Book Fair by the renowned publishing house “Intelekti Publishing”, which has completely dispensed with state support since last year. The manager of the publishing house, Gvantsa Jobava, sees the boycott as a protest against the “re-Sovietization” of society. Her publishing house and two others that will be represented at the stand are of course competitors. But they sat down and decided that the independence of the publishing industry is the highest priority.

Screenwriter and filmmaker Iva Pesuashvili, who received the European Union Prize for Literature in 2022 for his novel about Georgia's difficult transition to democracy, is one of more than 500 authors who are now only reliant on state support such as prize money, translation programs and residencies.

“The so-called transparency law is just the beginning. We have seen what is happening in Russia,” says Pesuashvili. Some books are only sold in black plastic covers because the authors have been declared foreign agents. We know how this will continue, said the filmmaker at our meeting in Tbilisi's Vake district, where house walls are painted with wild insults against Russia and pro-European statements. For Pesuahsvili, a family man and full-time writer, there is a lot at stake. He cannot imagine what he would be doing in this country if the Georgian Dream wins the election in October. The least of it would be that he would be oppressed, and the worst that they would lock him up just because he is against them.

Not only large parts of the cultural scene, but also the few independent media in the country feel threatened. In 2016, journalist Nino Bakradze founded the investigative online platform iFact with funding from the European Union and the USA. With sixteen employees, the 32-year-old Bakradze reports on topics that are not covered in state-controlled television programs. With research into delayed reforms demanded by the EU, Bakradze made no friends in the government apparatus, which is increasingly isolating itself and trying to control the opinion-forming process in the country more and more openly. Government personnel refuse to talk to anyone, and inquiries and calls go unanswered, says Bakradze. She will under no circumstances register “voluntarily” as an agent, says Bakradze, as the government requires foreign-funded media to do by September 1. Even if she faces a fine of 20,000 euros. She and her colleagues are looking for ways to avoid the fine and continue working, at least until the election, says the journalist. They will cover the election, wait for the results and then decide whether to leave the country or stay.

The government is already finding ways and means to restrict freedom of expression and art. In April, the prestigious Tbilisi International Film Festival had its financial support cut. “The minister simply doesn't like us,” says festival director Gaga Chkheidze, who headed the Georgian Film Center for a long time until his dismissal in 2022. A few days ago, Chkheidze filed a lawsuit for the return of the equivalent of 13,000 euros to which the festival is legally entitled. Chkheidze also has until September 1 to register his festival as a “foreign-funded NGO” and thus expose himself to possible further harassment. “We don't want to be agents. We do Georgian things and don't represent the interests of other states,” says Chkheidze. But the new law makes it possible to prevent films that the government doesn't like.

Does the resistance to Georgia's illiberal course really come from people who “have wasted their talent and are now taking out their anger on the world,” as Robert Sturua claimed in the National Theater? The cultural manager Ioseb Bakuradze, who worked with Sturua for a long time but has been touring successfully through Georgia and Europe with his independent “Movement Theater” for fifteen years, doubts this. Bakuradze has observed the political instrumentalization of culture by the government. He has seen on several occasions how entire staffs of state theaters were loaded onto buses and sent as claqueurs to public appearances by candidates of the Georgian Dream. When his sister, the film producer Anano Bakuradze, recently published interviews with recently sacked cultural managers on her online channel, the ministry stopped working with the Movement Theater.