Strongman

by Roxburgh, Angus

  Logically, Putin and Saakashvili should have been on the same side over these ‘frozen conflicts’. Russia supported the regional governments, but had resisted their calls for recognition for many years, and Putin was not at all keen to add to the Kosovo precedent by recognising them. He would then have had no argument whatsoever against the demands of Chechen separatists. Putin’s preference was to negotiate the two regions back into Georgia, with appropriate guarantees for their autonomy. But on the other hand he would not, and could not, allow them to be taken by force.

  Galloping to war

  Campaigning for re-election in January 2008 Mikheil Saakashvili vowed to recover both regions. He described the South Ossetian capital Tskhinvali as a ‘loose tooth ready for removal’ and promised to recapture it ‘within months at the most’.10

  The Kosovo precedent and the Bucharest fudge seemed to spur him on. Perhaps he felt he must resolve the ‘frozen conflicts’ quickly, since these had been cited as the main impediment to NATO membership. The day after the Bucharest summit, the Swedish foreign minister Carl Bildt had dinner with Saakashvili in Tbilisi, and was so alarmed by the latter’s talk of possible military action to retake Abkhazia and South Ossetia that he called his American colleagues to warn them. Bush responded to Bildt’s news by calling Saakashvili: ‘Dear friend, let me be clear: there is no way we will support you. Yes, you are a sovereign leader and we respect you. But you will not get US support if you choose to initiate the use of force.’

  It has been suggested that Saakashvili had returned from his trip to Washington in March with the false impression that he had been given some sort of green light by President Bush to reincorporate the rebel republics. Damon Wilson strongly denies that Bush gave any sort of encouragement for military action. ‘The president couldn’t have been clearer in underscoring that the military course was not a viable path at all. He was encouraging the diplomatic track, cautioning against taking matters into their own hand.’11

  But Saakashvili was losing faith in the diplomatic route. A few weeks before Bucharest, the State Duma had declared that ‘the path taken by the Georgian authorities towards full integration in NATO deprives Georgia of the right to consolidate its territory and the peoples living on it’. Then, on 16 April, Russia suddenly ‘upgraded’ its diplomatic relations with the two territories. The two moves had all the appearance of a concerted strategy to prevent the reintegration of Georgia’s regions – or even to annexe them. According to a Russian military analyst, Pavel Felgenhauer, it was around this time that Moscow took a decision to go to war: ‘The goal was to destroy Georgia’s central government, defeat the Georgian army, and prevent Georgia from joining NATO.’12

  That was certainly the feeling in Tbilisi, where some in the leadership were itching to go. A senior US official had a conversation with Georgian security ministers in April where they said: ‘The Russians have already positioned themselves to take over. We think they are preparing to move forces into our country, assembling them in Russia. We Georgians have our sources. So we think it is better to move first rather than just wait and let them march in and take over.’

  The US official responded: ‘You know that is suicide.’

  And the Georgians replied: ‘Well, if they cross that red line, maybe we would rather die as true patriots and real Georgian men!’

  Throughout the spring of 2008 Russia and Georgia each claimed the other was about to attack – and Abkhazia seemed the likelier flashpoint rather than South Ossetia. Russia sent troop reinforcements to the region; the Georgians increased their forces in the Upper Kodori Valley district which they controlled. Georgia flew unmanned reconnaissance drones over the region to monitor Russian troop movements. The Abkhaz called this a violation of their sovereignty, and Russian fighters shot some of the aircraft down. In late April the Russian foreign ministry claimed that Georgia was planning a military intervention in Abkhazia, and Russia vowed to use ‘all’ its resources to protect Russian citizens in the two disputed territories. In early May Condoleezza Rice expressed concern over the rising Russian troop levels in Abkhazia, and a week later the Georgians released footage shot by a reconnaissance drone which apparently confirmed the movement and deployment of Russian troops and military hardware in Abkhazia.

  At the end of May Russia announced it was sending 400 ‘unarmed’ troops to Abkhazia to repair a railway line. The Georgians took this as proof that they were preparing for an invasion, and the leadership began frantic discussions about whether to launch a pre-emptive strike. In interviews, three members of the Georgian leadership recalled the kind of arguments they were making at the time. Giorgi Bokeria, deputy foreign minister, said, ‘The major question was at what point does it become impossible for a sovereign state not to react, even when we don’t know for sure if the aggression will be massive or not?’13 Batu Kutelia, deputy defence minister, said, ‘Our citizens need to know that Georgia can protect them and that Georgia can react to these actions that cause concern for the Georgian people, that their country will use all its resources to destroy that threat.’14 Nino Burjanadze, chair of the Georgian parliament, cautioned some restraint: ‘Some people tried to persuade the president and myself that the Russians had rusty tanks, that we had modern equipment and that Georgia would defeat the Russians in one night. Almost all the Security Council wanted to start a military intervention in Abkhazia.’15

  President Saakashvili, for all his eagerness to reclaim the ‘lost’ territories, decided to give diplomacy another chance. Russia, after all, had a new president, Dmitry Medvedev. And even Prime Minister Putin was sending mixed signals. Just as the Russians were sending railway troops into Abkhazia, Putin was asked by the French newspaper Le Monde what he thought about Saakashvili’s ‘peace plan for Abkhazia granting an unprecedented degree of autonomy’ and ‘giving the post of vice-president of the Georgian state to an Abkhaz national’. ‘I very much hope that the plan proposed by Mikheil Saakashvili will gradually be introduced,’ Putin replied, ‘because it is on the whole a sound plan.’

  A few days later, on the margins of a summit of post-Soviet states in St Petersburg on 6 June, Saakashvili held his first talks with Medvedev. Both men appeared to approach them in a positive mood, as if they were really starting from a fresh piece of paper. ‘I think we will be able to resolve all the difficulties we face today and find long-term solutions. What do you think?’ said Medvedev.

  ‘I agree,’ replied Saakashvili. ‘There are no unsolvable problems. There are plenty of unsolved ones, but no unsolvable ones.’

  Recalling the meeting later, Saakashvili said: ‘He seemed to have a very different style from Putin. He was open, he was engaging.’ (Saakashvili has a similar recollection of his first meeting with Putin.) The Georgian was encouraged to hear Medvedev suggest that he had ‘inherited these situations and didn’t initiate them’, and wanted to resolve the Ossetian and Abkhazian conflicts ‘within the framework of the territorial integrity of Georgia’.16 That amounted to a pledge that Russia was not interested in annexing the two regions and regarded them as part of Georgia.

  Saakashvili said he left the meeting ‘full of hope’ and that Medvedev had suggested getting together in Sochi to ‘sit down and look at the different options’. But he did not mention that – as Sergei Lavrov points out – the prerequisite for any progress, as far as Russia was concerned, was that Georgia, given its stated intention to regain the two territories, should sign a non-use-of-force pledge. In an interview, Medvedev’s diplomatic adviser Sergei Prikhodko confirmed: ‘The key thing was a proposal to put together a document on non-use of force. They even named the venue where it could happen, in Sochi. Saakashvili reacted, as far as I recall, quite positively.’17

  But the question of a non-use-of-force agreement would bedevil relations over the next months. Saaskashvili says the Russians wanted Georgia to sign such an agreement with the Abkhaz and South Ossetians – with the Russians as guarantors. But for Saakashvili that was ‘like giving a fox a mandate to
guard a chicken house’. He would only agree to sign a non-use-of-force agreement with the Russians. But the Russians responded: why should we do that? We are not combatants in the area, we only have peacekeepers there.

  Both men agreed that there was no point in meeting until they had narrowed their differences sufficiently for there to be a practical outcome. In the middle of June they exchanged confidential letters, which I have seen. Saakashvili sent Medvedev what he believed were a few helpful proposals to reduce tension in Abkhazia, but his letter – and Medvedev’s reply – revealed fundamental disagreements. Saakashvili proposed the removal of Russian peacekeepers from the areas of Abkhazia closest to Georgia, and the return of Georgian refugees to these areas (Gali and Ochamchira) which would be jointly administered by Georgia and Abkhazia. Only after this (in December, Saakashvili conjectured) could there be an agreement on the non-use of force, and on the return of Georgian refugees to the rest of Abkhazia. As a sweetener, Saakashvili offered Georgia’s help in preparing the 2014 Winter Olympics in Sochi, which is just north of Abkhazia – but in the meantime he called for the ‘rapid withdrawal’ of Russian military reinforcements and the annulment of Putin’s directive of 16 April upgrading relations with the breakaway regions. In his reply Medvedev welcomed the offer to help with the Sochi Games, but politely rejected everything else as pie in the sky. It was hard to imagine, he said, joint Georgian–Abkhaz administration of any part of Abkhazia, and it was premature to speak of the return of refugees. The priority was for Georgia to take real measures to reduce tension, and, above all, to sign a non-use-of-force agreement with the Abkhaz side and to withdraw Georgian troops from the Kodori Valley. If Saakashvili would agree to that, Medvedev offered a summit meeting to sign the relevant documents in July or August.

  The Russians tried to work through the Americans to put pressure on their ally. Sergei Lavrov called Condoleezza Rice and said: ‘Saakashvili is playing with fire. Keep him away from adventuring. Convince him to sign an agreement for non-use of force.’

  Rice replied, according to Lavrov: ‘Sergei, don’t worry. He wants to be a member of NATO. He knows very well that if he uses force, he can forget about NATO.’ Rice remembers the conversation. She says she even added: ‘It will be another generation before they are in NATO if they use force.’ But she also told the Russians that their own menacing actions were making it ‘difficult for Saakashvili in terms of domestic audiences to sign a no-use-of-force pledge’.

  Medvedev and Saakashvili had one more encounter before war became inevitable. It was a steamy Saturday night in Astana, the capital of Kazakhstan. The next day, 6 July, was President Nursultan Nazarbayev’s birthday, and he had brought exalted guests from many countries to an exclusive nightclub to celebrate. Medvedev had declined to meet Saakashvili for formal talks, but the Georgian approached him several times. Medvedev recalled later: ‘He’s a difficult man to avoid, because if he wants to get hold of you he sticks to you! We talked while sitting on a bus, and we talked while taking a walk in the park. In the evening we went out for a cup of tea and a glass of wine ... we sat on a sofa and kept discussing the prospect of a meeting.’

  The two men have different, and contradictory, memories of these conversations. Since it appears to have been a crucial moment in the breakdown of communication, leading a month later to war, the two versions deserve to be told.

  Saakashvili says that he pressed for a follow-up summit in Sochi, as discussed at St Petersburg, but that Medvedev was evasive and hinted he was not in control: ‘He said, “You know, I’m so pleased to be with you here, and we are listening to the same music, we like the same social environment, we are at ease with each other. In many ways we might have the same background, but back in Moscow there are different rules of the game, and I would not be easily understood if I rushed to a meeting with you now.”

  ‘And I said, “Look, a meeting is better than no meetings and we should get somewhere.” But he said, “A meeting now will be a disappointment because we will not get anywhere, and we might come off even worse than before.” And I tell him, “Dmitry, come on, what could be worse than we have now? We have daily provocations, things are really spiralling out of control, we have these incidents on the ground, it cannot get any worse.” And here he stopped me and said, “Well, I think you are deeply mistaken here. You will see, very soon, it might get much, much worse.” And then he basically turned around and left.’

  It must be stressed that Saakashvili was speaking with the benefit of hindsight – after the war that broke out one month later. One must also remember that he has a mission to shape the history of those events to his own advantage. But he implied two interesting things: first, that Medvedev had indicated he was not fully in charge of policy (this is credible, given that Medvedev had been in office for only two months), and, second, that he had hinted darkly that Russia was planning military action (though Medvedev’s words can also be read as simply meaning that events were spinning out of control). The important thing, when piecing together the events that led to war, is that Saakashvili interpreted Medvedev’s words as a threat – which he might have been tempted to forestall.

  Saakashvili concludes his story of the nightclub encounter somewhat melodramatically. ‘Apparently I was looking nervous. Nazarbayev came to me and said, “Misha, what’s wrong with you? I’ve never seen you so pale – what did he tell you?” I said, “Nothing.” And then he said, “Don’t worry, things will be sorted out, you know, give him some time, I’m sure you can find a way.” ’18

  In an interview with Ekho Moskvy three years after the war, Saakashvili said that after Astana he tried repeatedly to call Medvedev but was always told: ‘Wait. We’ll call you when it’s time.’ Saakashvili interprets Medvedev’s evasiveness as proof that ‘he was no longer inclined to have a serious conversation’ because ‘he knew what could [be about to] happen’.19

  Medvedev’s account is entirely different. He says the two did agree to meet again for ‘a serious discussion’ in Sochi, but Saakashvili then went ominously quiet. ‘I can tell you earnestly: I spent the next month checking regularly for any feedback from our Georgian counterpart. There was nothing.’ Both Medvedev and three other senior Russians all made the same point in interviews (clearly it is the conclusion they reached in their internal discussions later): that Saakashvili, for whatever reason, fell silent after he was visited by Condoleezza Rice in Tbilisi four days later. Medvedev said: ‘Following that visit, my Georgian colleague simply dropped all communications with us. He simply stopped talking to us, he stopped writing letters and making phone calls. It was apparent that he had some new plans now.’20

  It is undeniable that Rice sent mixed signals during her visit – indeed she says so herself. She flew to Georgia on 9 July. The day before, the Russians had engaged in a little more sabre-rattling – flying warplanes over South Ossetia ‘to cool hot heads in Tbilisi’, as the foreign ministry put it. Dining in the Kopala restaurant, on a veranda overlooking the Mtkvari river, Rice again insisted to the Georgian leader that he had to reject the use of force.

  ‘Why should I do that?’ he replied. ‘I will get nothing for it.’

  Rice replied: ‘You’re going to have to do it, you have no option ... If you engage Russian forces, nobody will come to your aid and you will lose.’21 Her tough words in private, though, gave way in her public statements to what Saakashvili may have seen as encouragement for his plans. At a press conference before leaving Tbilisi, Rice strongly endorsed Georgia’s territorial integrity and criticised Russia, adding, ‘We take very, very strongly our obligation to help our allies defend themselves, and no one should be confused about that.’ In an interview Rice said this was no idle promise: ‘It was very important for the Georgians to know that if they did the difficult things, the United States would stand by them, if the Russians didn’t stand by their obligations. And I absolutely, deliberately – in front of the press – said that the United States would stand by Georgia.’

  The Russians,
it seems, believe that Saakashvili heard in this the encouragement he needed. Medvedev says: ‘I don’t believe the Americans urged Georgia’s president to invade. But I do believe that there were certain subtleties and certain hints made ... which could effectively feed Saakashvili’s apparent hopes that the Americans would back him in any conflict. In politics, connotations and nuances are very important.’

  In short, Medvedev believes Saakashvili took encouragement from Rice’s words and decided to invade South Ossetia, and therefore stopped communicating with Moscow. Saakashvili believes Medvedev stopped communicating because he had been told to shut up by Putin, who had already taken a decision to invade Georgia. Whatever the truth, there was now silence, and therefore little hope of avoiding war through diplomacy.

  A few days later, the Russian 58th Army began massive military exercises across the whole of the North Caucasus, involving 8,000 troops, 700 combat vehicles and 30 aircraft. At the same time 1,630 US and Georgian forces conducted military exercises in Georgia called ‘Immediate Response 2008’. Remarkably, despite the tension and continuing skirmishes in South Ossetia, the leaderships in both Georgia and Russia appeared to think the situation was calm enough to go on holiday. One senior American who visited Tbilisi in July recalls having dinner with members of the Georgian leadership before they went away, Saakashvili to a health farm in Italy, deputy foreign minister Bokeria to Spain: ‘They were pretty happy, and totally relaxed, hugging each other with “see you in a month or three weeks, make sure you don’t think about work!” ’

  In the first week of August almost the entire Russian leadership also went on holiday, just as the worst Georgian–Ossetian skirmishes in four years erupted in South Ossetia. In the next days thousands of Ossetians evacuated their families to the safety of North Ossetia. On Wednesday 5 August an official in the Russian government gloomily told me it was not a question of ‘whether’ there would be war: ‘There will be war.’ It erupted finally on the night of 7–8 August, with a massive Georgian assault on the South Ossetian capital, Tskhinvali, followed by a Russian invasion that swarmed deep into Georgia, far beyond the confines of the disputed region itself. The war was almost universally blamed – at least at first – on Russia, and comparisons were drawn with the Soviet invasions of Hungary and Czechoslovakia. Russia’s reputation suffered its greatest blow since the end of communism, though a European Union commission which was set up to investigate the war apportioned blame more evenly, concluding that Georgia aggressed first, with force that was not ‘justifiable under international law’. The report also said that both sides had contributed to the build-up of tensions beforehand, and that Russia’s reaction was disproportionate, going ‘beyond the reasonable limits of self-defence’.