Why have years of integration programs failed to produce real political outcomes in Javakheti? How has Tbilisi turned the region into a zone of political isolation, and why does the State Security Service continue to play a dominant role despite the fact that local communities retain civic agency and a capacity for self-organization? These and other issues are discussed with Olesya Vartanyan, author of the socio-political study conducted in Javakheti, “Investing in Local Capacities: A Path Toward the Transformation of Javakheti.”
Why have long-running integration programs in Javakheti failed to deliver meaningful political results?
Because these programs focus on integrating individuals, not on granting them political influence.
This summer, I spent a significant amount of time in Javakheti and met with local residents from different sectors. Eventually, I decided to write a report based on these conversations an attempt to describe life in the region as seen through the eyes of its inhabitants.
Today, people in Javakheti speak Georgian far better than they did 20 years ago. The region has stronger trade and human connections with the rest of Georgia. Yet this has not automatically translated into local residents becoming full political participants in the Georgian state.
The population continues to perceive the region as distinct from the rest of the country. They see themselves as different and they feel that Tbilisi treats them differently as well. This is not merely a matter of mistrust or ethnic difference.
Rather, it is the result of the absence of mechanisms for developing political life at the local level. This problem exists across Georgia, but with an important difference: in regions such as Kakheti, a local activist can realistically become a politician, whether at the regional or national level.
In Javakheti, this pathway is largely blocked. Even if someone speaks Georgian fluently and understands how the system works, they face serious barriers. There is no support system, no social or political network capable of turning ambition into political development.
Javakheti would likely look very different politically if it had greater autonomy, financial resources, and freedom in decision-making.
How does the ruling party maintain such high levels of support in the region while political attitudes shift elsewhere in the country?
Javakheti has almost always voted for the party in power, regardless of who that party is at a given moment. This is especially evident during periods of political crisis.
For example, in both the 2012 parliamentary elections and last year’s elections, Javakheti voted for the incumbent authorities, while much of the rest of the country expressed different political preferences.
This pattern is the result of the region’s political isolation. Local political life cannot develop because the necessary mechanisms do not exist.
Although local governments formally exist and are staffed by ethnically Armenian officials, they lack both financial resources and real independence. As a result, nearly all decisions must be coordinated with the central authorities in Tbilisi.
This creates a closed circle: the region avoids any risky political moves including voting for change out of fear that it could lose the support of the central government altogether.
Dissenting voices do exist, but the system quickly absorbs or neutralizes them. This dynamic benefits any ruling party and has remained unchanged for decades.
What role does the State Security Service play in shaping political and social processes in Javakheti?
The State Security Service remains one of the key actors in the region, though this is rarely discussed openly.
Its influence grew significantly in the early years of Mikheil Saakashvili’s presidency, when Tbilisi consolidated institutional control over Javakheti. This coincided with the withdrawal of the Russian military base from Akhalkalaki.
At the time, the strong presence of security agencies appeared justified, and many still argue that Javakheti’s borderland status necessitates expanded security powers.
The problem is that the dominance of security structures masks the weakness of political governance. The State Security Service cannot replace civic and political institutions this applies not only to Javakheti, but to Georgia as a whole.
For local residents, such heavy monitoring is perceived as a lack of trust from the center. In Javakheti, this perception is often linked to ethnic Armenian identity, giving the issue a discriminatory dimensioneven if Tbilisi does not consciously intend it.
Is there space for opposition activity in the region? What barriers does the opposition face locally?
In practice, the opposition barely exists in Javakheti. Opposition parties appear only during election periods and assume they can quickly secure votes but politics in the region does not function that way.
Javakheti requires long-term engagement, relationship-building, and a genuine effort to address local problems. Under current conditions, this is especially difficult given resistance from the central authorities.
During the last parliamentary elections, opposition representatives did not even travel to the region to meet voters. There were no campaigns, no posters, no sustained presence.
Because of this neglect, opposition parties later resort to simplistic and harmful stereotypes, claiming that “Armenians vote for the government.” Such claims completely ignore the complex political reality of the region and reveal the absence of any systematic opposition work in Javakheti.
How did the decline of Armenia’s influence and the consolidation of Tbilisi’s control affect local political self-awareness?
Armenia’s role was indeed significant around 20 years ago, when Georgia’s central institutions had not yet firmly established their presence in Javakheti.
In the 1990s, amid civil wars and regional instability, many basic needs in the region such as education and electricity were sustained through Armenian support. This was a pragmatic necessity rather than a political choice.
Even then, Yerevan acted cautiously. Given Armenia’s conflict with Azerbaijan, Georgia was its only route to Russian and European markets, making stable relations essential.
For this reason, when Saakashvili’s government began consolidating control over Javakheti, Armenia not only refrained from opposing the process but, in some cases, actively supported it.
This remains true today: Yerevan recognizes Javakheti as an integral part of Georgia, and this reality is unlikely to change.
Can small, informal civic initiatives change political passivity in the region?
These initiatives demonstrate that the population of Javakheti is far from passive. On the contrary, ideas of freedom and civic engagement resonate strongly with local communities.
During my research, I met many individuals who, often voluntarily and at their own expense, implement small but meaningful projects from agricultural innovation to women’s reproductive health.
There are youth clubs where children read books and discuss freedom and human rights, as well as local initiatives to build or renovate schools, revitalizing entire villages.
These efforts rarely make headlines. Politicians seldom talk about them. Yet such grassroots activism exists and unites people who are no different from those living elsewhere in Georgia.
I believe this research can be useful to anyone thinking about how to preserve civic engagement under increasingly repressive laws.
Small-scale, bottom-up activism is precisely the path that can become a mechanism of resistance to authoritarianism.