An airline out of the rambunctious Russian republic of Chechnya was planning to launch flights from Crimea to Armenia next month, but Yerevan, ever image-conscious, now seems hesitant to be the only direct, regular international destination for trips from the Russian-annexed peninsula.
Armenia’s aviation regulators late last week refused to authorize flights run by Grozny Avia between the Crimean capital of Simferopol to Yerevan.
International airlines are avoiding Russian-occupied skies over Crimea. Russia’s Aeroflot operates direct flights to Crimea from Moscow, with most flights for this month largely sold out.
Armenia’s Civil Aviation Agency cited unspecified errors in Grozny Avia’s application as the reason for its refusal to allow the flights, RFE/RL reported. The refusal is not conclusive and Grozny Avia can technically reapply, but some believe that Armenia is trying to avoid further miffing Ukraine, already upset over Yerevan’s backing the right to self-determination of the Crimean people.
The former head of the Civil Aviation Agency, Shagen Petrosian, said that allowing such flights would also significantly damage Armenia’s reputation and could possibly lead to international sanctions, epress.am reported.
Armenia's parliament is something of a millionaire-hangout, according to local media reports. Nineteen members of the 131-seat assembly have incomes of over $1 million, the reports say, citing the most recent official income declarations.
Tamada Tales could not immediately double-check the reports since the English-language version of the income-disclosure website is not fully functional. But if the reports are true, then one influential opposition party, Prosperous Armenia, certainly lives up to its name.
The populist party and its boss, tycoon Gagik Tsarukian , rank as the richest party and lawmaker, respectively. For good measure, Prosperous Armenia allegedly boasts another eight millionaires as well, with the grand total of the MPs’ net worth coming to $163.6 million, reported the newspaper 168 Zham (168 Hours), which came up with the original report on the millionaire-lawmakers.
Another nine millionaires in the legislature belong to the ruling Republican Party of Armenia, while one independent MP, Araik Grigorian, who doubles as president of the board of a wine-factory, ranks as the legislature’s millionaire-maverick.
In grand total, Armenian lawmakers are worth $235 million, 168 Zham said. By comparison, average monthly salaries in Armenia rank the dram-equivalent of just $424.
Local critics long have argued that the country’s legislature largely functions as a good ol’ boys’ club, with business and political interests mingling seamlessly, and members essentially seeking seats only to further their business interests.
Georgians’ fascination with cars is only surpassed by their ardor for vanity car plates. The South-Caucasus country may be strapped for cash, but it turns its pockets inside out to get the right car and personalized plates to go with it. As of early this month, Georgian car owners had paid a good 8,9 million lari ($5.6 million) over the past month and a half for some 30,000 car plates, Peradi.info reported, citing police records.
And all this in a country where the average monthly salary amounts to just over 773 laris, or $442, according to official data.
But, apparently, those low incomes didn’t stop these drivers. The most hardcore paid 10,000 laris ($5,718.53) to adorn their vehicles with their full names or some slogan. Less fancy plates that have repeated numbers and letters — such as 111 - AA - 111 — cost about 1,000 laris or $570, BHN reported. If you are a Georgian girl called Rusa, for about 250 laris ( $142), you can get a RU - 000 - SA plate.
By comparison, ordinary license plates cost 35 laris ($20). But, of course, who notices those?
After the government recently changed the format of the plates, drivers now have all kinds of messages to tell the rest of the traffic, too: Amen, Drunkard, Kisses. Several years back, one Georgian government-minister got himself MCCAIN plates in honour of his favorite US senator, Republican John McCain of Arizona, wrote Foreign Affairs.
Azerbaijan’s government had been pushed hard to free several jailed young activists, but their release last week left a bitter aftertaste in the repressive Caucasus republic. The European Union welcomed the October-17 amnesty, but government critics say Azerbaijani officials made an unsavory show out of it.
Four young democracy activists had to address a letter of repentance to their President Ilham Aliyev to be included in the list of 80 prisoners pardoned by the president. Upon release, two of the young men, Bahtiyar Guliyev and Elsevyar Mursalli, brought flowers to the grave of President Aliyev’s father and predecessor, Heydar Aliyev.
The civil-rights group NIDA said its members were pressured to write the apology-letter since the authorities are trying to exonerate themselves for arresting “young people, political activists, rights defenders, bloggers for their civil activism.”
There is hardly an international democracy watchdog left that has not accused the Azerbaijani government of rounding up critics on trumped-up charges. Its chairmanship of the Council of Europe’s committee of ministers notwithstanding.
The European Union chose to focus on the positive, however. “We greet this amnesty as a positive first step in reversing the trend of recent months. We urge the authorities to build upon this step by extending the amnesty to other individuals belonging to civil society organization who currently face imprisonment,” the EU said in an October 20 statement.
Protesters on October 21 held a protest-performance in front of the country's government headquarters in Tbilisi to demand a response to a recent series of murders of women by their ex- or current husbands...
English teacher Maka Tsivtsivadze was instructing a class in downtown Ilia State University on October 17, when her ex-husband, Lasha Maghradze, peeped in and asked her to step out into the hall. He shot her with a gun he had concealed, and then killed himself. Tsivtsivadze died of her wounds in the hospital.
It was the most brazen in a wave of femicides that has shocked Georgia this year, but it was not the last one. Just two days later, a 60-year-old man killed his wife in a remote village. Earlier, an ex-husband shot dead his former wife on a street in Tbilisi and also killed her brother who tried to rescue her.
The number of women killed this year is believed now to stand at 23, based on an earlier assessment by human rights defender Ucha Nanuashvili .
Amidst the search for an explanation -- and a solution -- to the series of wife-murders, a group of activists on October 21 held a protest-performance in front of the country's government headquarters in Tbilisi to pressure officials to come up with a response. The demonstrators, mostly women, blindfolded themselves, taped their mouths shut, and clanked spoons on saucepans. "The government has not even taken in the problem, much less is doing anything about it,” one of the participants, art critic and feminist activist Teo Khatiashvili, said.
President Giorgi Margvelashvili called for making 2015 a year of women, and Prime Minister Irakli Gharibashvili promised to prioritize tackling domestic violence, but nothing concrete has been offered. A comment from female Justice Minister Tea Tsulukiani that Georgia’s crime level has not increased, "it's just husbands are killing their wives,” has hardly helped to reassure critics.
Georgia’s jailed, former Interior Minister Vano Merabishvili was sentenced to three years in prison on October 20 for his alleged role in a haunting 2006 murder case. Once the all-powerful muscle of ex-President Mikheil Saakashvili’s administration, Merabishvili was found guilty of obstructing justice in the high-profile death of a 28-year-old banker, Sandro Girgvliani.
The court ruled that Merabishvili used his office to cover up evidence against his employees who abducted and beat Girgvliani, and left him to die. Grigvliani’s death, which followed an altercation in a Tbilisi cafe that involved Merabishvili’s wife, grew into a national scandal that would haunt the Saakashvili administration for years to come.
Merabishvili’s wife, Tako Salakia, and many interior ministry officials were present at the fateful birthday gathering, when Girgvliani showed up with a friend and got into an argument with the group. Several interior ministry officials allegedly later abducted Girgvliani and his friend, Levan Bukhaidze, and took them to the city’s outskirts to beat them. Girgvliani is believed to have died of his injuries or have frozen to death; Bukhaidze escaped.
Girgviliani’s mother, Irina Enukidze, engaged in a long and daring battle with the authorities, accusing them of covering up the murder. Her claims mushroomed into what became, essentially, the first large-scale public pushback against Saakashvili’s administration. With opposition parties and opposition-minded media by her side, she called for the resignation of Merabishvili and the arrest of his wife; both of whom she was convinced had given the order to teach Girgvliani a lesson.
Russia wants to revive a tsarist-era project for building a new road to Georgia, but Georgians remain uncertain about whether the intention has to do with transit for trade or tanks or both.
The topic was slotted for further discussion at a routine, October-16 meeting in Prague between Georgian and Russian officials, but details have not emerged.
The road, which would run from the restive Russian republic of Daghestan to Georgia’s Kakheti region, is meant as an alternative to the only fully functional road link between Georgia and Russia, known by its unfortunate historical name, the Georgian Military Highway.
The highway, at times barely two lanes, winds north through canyons and towering mountains in eastern Georgia, and is highly susceptible to the elements. Heavy snowfalls and landslides often block the road, leaving trucks queuing for weeks before they can go through.
To the west, there are two crossings into breakaway South Ossetia and Abkhazia. Both of these passages are outside Tbilisi’s control and remain closed to international traffic.
Increased transit would bring more income for Georgia’s lackluster economy, and especially for Russian ally Armenia, which heavily relies on exports to Russia. But many Georgians have qualms about giving their enemy number-one more options to roll in the tanks should the 2008 war repeat itself. Particularly in the wake of the uproar over the proposed Abkhazia-Russia treaty.
The fact that several months before the 2008 invasion, then Russian Prime Minister Vladimir Putin arrived in Daghestan and called for construction of this same road as another corridor to Georgia has offered little reassurance on this front.
Tbilisi has accused Moscow of plans to pull a Crimea in breakaway Abkhazia through a treaty that proposes a merger of military forces, coordination of police and an alignment with the Russia-led Eurasian Economic Union.
On the surface, it may seem that Abkhazia's fate could not be any more tied to Moscow than it already is. The Russian military is the only outside guarantee of the region's de-facto independence from Georgia, while the Russian market provides an economic lifeline. But for all that, Abkhazia is actually serious about its claim to independence from everyone, Russia including.
In an interview with Ekho Kavkaza, the speaker of Abkhazia's de-facto parliament, Valery Bganba, complained that the document "in many places" amounts to a "loss of sovereignty."
The cornerstone of the treaty is the formation of a collective military force, with Russia appointing an ad-hoc command in times of crisis. Many Abkhaz think such force is necessary to repel any attempt from Georgia to retake the territory; an event which Abkhazia has been expecting ever since its 1992-1994 war with Tbilisi. Many believe that events in Ukraine have increased the likelihood of such an attack.
When you think caviar, you don’t necessarily think of breakaway Nagorno Karabakh, a remote South-Caucasus region over which Azerbaijan has been warring with separatists and Armenia for years. But that is about to change. Karabakh claims it has just entered into the caviar industry and, potentially, in a big way.
The region’s de-facto prime minister, Ara Arutiunian, believes that Karabakh is destined to become a global player in the caviar industry by dint of a new fishery business in the village of Magatis set up in part by Armenian Diaspora investments, Armenian and Russian news sites reported, citing a Karabakhi media outlet. The first batch of black caviar is expected to be produced as early as this December.
Aqua-farming may seem a peculiar economic-development choice for the landlocked region, but Arutiunian insists production levels will hit 30 tons annually in seven years — a level that appears to be a drop in the bucket compared with Azerbaijan or Russia, both caviar-majors.
How exactly Karabakh ("black garden" in Turkish and Persian) would get its caviar to outside markets is a larger question. The only way out of the region for ordinary vehicles is via Armenia, the region’s protector, but Armenia has just joined the Eurasian Economic Union, a Moscow-led trade club that, in theory, would require it to set up a customs post with Karabakh, as the internationally recognized property of Azerbaijan.
That little detail, though, was brushed to one side during Armenia’s October 10 signing of the Union treaty. To hear officials (de-jure or de-facto) in Armenia and Karabakh tell it, no customs post will be built.
In a major victory for Georgian human-rights activists, the country’s Constitutional Court on October 9 declared sweeping limitations on basic rights for the mentally disabled to be unconstitutional.
Under Georgian law, individuals recognized by a court as mentally handicapped or with developmental difficulties can lose all personal freedoms, including even the ability to buy a loaf of bread or a chocolate bar on their own, Giorgi Gotsiridze, a lawyer with the Georgian Young Lawyers Association (GYLA), an advocacy group, wrote in an op-ed .*
In one case, he noted, a Georgian court ruled that a “mentally deficient person cannot defend their [own] dignity because they cannot perceive libel or insults.”
The law’s biggest flaw was that it did not allow for differentiations between levels of mental incapacity, GYLA said. Getting married, running a business or going to the store were barred all the same.
GYLA long argued that the law, which referred to the mentally disabled as “dim-witted,” was a post-Soviet anachronism that fell short of legal standards in a democratic state.
The ruling by the Constitutional Court requires parliament to come up with new legislation that would require rulings for any restrictions on freedom of movement to be on a case-by-case basis.
The topic, as yet, has not been widely covered by Georgian mainstream media.
*GYLA receives funding from the Open Society Georgia Foundation, part of the network of Open Society Foundations. EurasiaNet.org is financed through the Open Society Foundation-New York City, a separate part of that network.