LONG, DIRTY ROAD TO AZERBAIJAN
By Scott Taylor
The Chronicle Herald
2168.html
Nov 24 2008
Canada
LAST MONTH, as I left Canada for the Caucasus, my primary objective
was to enter South Ossetia.
Since the collapse of the Soviet Union in 1991, this region has
fiercely resisted the authority of the Republic of Georgia. In the past
17 years, ethnic Ossetians have clashed four times with their Georgian
neighbours. The most recent bloodletting began with a Georgian army
offensive on Aug. 7 that eventually provoked a major Russian military
intervention in the disputed territory.
With a population of just 25,000 people, a militia still fully
mobilized and coping with post-battle destruction of catastrophic
proportions, the new government in the South Ossetian capital of
Tskhinvali obviously had more pressing concerns than the establishment
of a media liaison office.
As such, my arrival at the Russian-Ossetian border post was cause for
concern among the local officials. There was no translation required
during most of our appeals to the border officials, as I understood
the word "nyet" and the raised hand gesture removed any further doubts.
For three days in a row we would drive two hours from Vladikavkaz
through the long, narrow mountain pass that connects North Ossetia,
Russia, to South Ossetia. We would arrive in hopeful anticipation that
the previous night’s barrage of emails and phone calls had shifted
the border chief’s resolve. When we heard the "nyet" and saw the hand
raised, we would settle into a day-long routine of endless cups of
tea from the roadside merchants.
We quickly decided against eating any food during these extended
delays as the public toilet at the border was without a doubt the
world’s dirtiest. Each night when the border finally closed, we drove
back to Vladikavkaz.
Hope was waning, but because we had already invested so much time
and effort in the venture and the Russian embassy in Ottawa had a
duty officer working around the clock to assist us, we agreed to give
it one last shot. When we were finally granted passage, everyone at
the border post seemed surprised, including the tea ladies who had
suggested that a "fee" of $300 each would help unlock the doors.
We finally entered the conflict zone and, as detailed in previous
reports, were finally able to describe the war crimes committed by
the Georgian troops in those first days of their offensive.
But the delay in the schedule meant I had to forfeit my planned
excursion to the Georgian side of the conflict lines. Instead, I was
able to buy a ticket to fly directly from Mineralnye Vody, Russia,
to Baku, Azerbaijan.
Upon my arrival in Baku, I presented my passport to the immigration
officer, confident that I had a valid visa and I was entering
Azerbaijan on an official invitation to give a speech at the
Ministry of Foreign Affairs University. Those credentials went up
in smoke when the officer asked me incredulously, "You have been to
Nagorno-Karabakh?" She shouted for assistance and I was hurriedly
escorted by police into a private office for questioning.
The ethnic Armenians of Nagorno-Karabakh proclaimed their independence
from Azerbaijan in 199, at about the same time that Azerbaijan seceded
from the Soviet Union. A bloody war ensued, and although a ceasefire
was brokered in 1994, Azerbaijan never relinquished formal claim to
Nagorno-Karabakh. Having a visa from this disputed territory was a
definite no-no in Azerbaijan.
Thanks to some frantic calls from the embassy in Ottawa and direct
intervention by their deputy minister of foreign affairs, my late
Saturday-night detention at the airport was limited to only a few
hours.
The normal routine under such circumstances would be a KGB
interrogation followed by official deportation. I was lucky.
( staylor@herald.ca)
Scott Taylor is the publisher of Esprit de Corps military magazine
and author of several books.