The New Zealand Herald
Monday September 10, 2007
Blog: Political minefield offers rich pickings for jokes
The 14th century Tsminda Sameba church overlooked by
5047m Mt Kazbek. Photo / Jill Worrall
9:55AM Monday September 10, 2007
By Jill Worrall
There’s little work available in the Georgian town of
Kazbegi, just 20km from the Russian border.
The two nations are not on speaking terms at present
so the border is closed. Kazbegi is now without its
usual rumble and belch of trucks, buses and vans –
it’s a forlorn place where men sit in doorways with
nothing to do.
So, I’m not altogether surprised when the jeep drivers
tell us it’s not safe to walk up to the 14th century
Tsminda Sameba church that sits perched on a hill
overlooked by 5047m Mt Kazbek, Georgia’s highest
mountain.
"There are two bears on the path," they tell us,
seriously. We should take the jeeps to be safe. So we
do.
Interestingly the black-robed priest and his small
flock of pilgrims who take the path arrive safely at
the church – maybe they had a higher level of divine
protection.
The closed border is a graphic example of why the
Caucasus would be no place to cut one’s teeth in the
field of international relations.
While Georgia and Russia are at loggerheads, Georgia
and Azerbaijan are talking to each other so their
borders are open. But don’t even contemplate trying to
cross from Azerbaijan into Armenia – those two nations
are bristling with tension over disputed territory.
Armenia is however, friendly with Iran,
which in turn is regarded a little guardedly by
Georgia and Azerbaijan.
Meanwhile, Armenia and Turkey are caught in
long-standing enmity. And to compound things further
Armenia and Georgia are possibly a little envious of
the Azeris’ oil-fields, while Georgia and Azerbaijan
seem a little miffed about the amount of money Armenia
receives from its wealthy diaspora.
It’s rich pickings for collectors of national jokes
too.
Georgians, for example, are teased about their claims
to be the first to make wine, along with several other
"firsts".
The region is the political geographer’s paradise – a
soap opera of kinship, enmity, envy, spies and the
usual pot pourri of other human emotions that can both
divide and unite.
The Tsminda Sameba church . Photo / Jill Worrall
But political minefields seem a long way away up at
the little stone church of Tsminda Sameba where the
wind billows the priest’s gowns and Mt Kazbek and its
snowfields loom on the skyline on a cloudless blue
Caucasian day.