Message-ID: <218581ACEC23D31184CD0008C7333E7F2491A1@LONDON_SRV>
From: Institute for War & Peace Reporting <info@iwpr.net>
To: Institute for War & Peace Reporting <info@iwpr.net>
Subject: IWPR'S CAUCASUS REPORTING SERVICE, NO. 33
Date: Fri, 26 May 2000 18:20:38 +0100
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain;
	charset="iso-8859-1"
Sender: owner-crsenglish@angus.mystery.com
Reply-To: Institute for War & Peace Reporting <info@iwpr.net>
Precedence: bulk



WELCOME TO IWPR'S CAUCASUS REPORTING SERVICE, NO. 33, May 26, 2000

WILL THE TALIBAN REAP THE WHIRLWIND?  It was no coincidence that the
Kremlin's threats to bomb terrorist bases in Afghanistan came on the eve of
the Minsk security summit. Mikhail Ivanov comments from Moscow.

KARABAKH REGIME RESORTS TO TOTALITARIAN RULE  Comment. The Nagorny Karabakh
regime is eradicating any vestige of political opposition in the run-up to
the parliamentary elections. By Anatoly Kuprianov in London.

MURDERS LINKED TO CHECHEN CONFLICT  Russian police believe Chechen Wahhabis
may be responsible for eleven gruesome murders in two Caucasian republics.
Alexander Voronin reports from Vladikavkaz, North Ossetia.

AZERI FISHERMEN PLUNDER STURGEON STOCKS  Corrupt officials in Azerbaijan are
suspected of lining their pockets with the proceeds of illegal sturgeon
fishing. Kamal Ali reports from Baku.

GEORGIAN FILMS LOSE DIRECTION  The Georgian film industry mourns the passing
of its heyday, while its directors fight tooth and nail over the last few
crumbs of state funding. Kakha Tolordava reports from Tbilisi.

********** VISIT IWPR ON-LINE: www.iwpr.net **************

WILL THE TALIBAN REAP THE WHIRLWIND?

It was no coincidence that the Kremlin's threats to bomb terrorist bases in
Afghanistan came on the eve of the Minsk security summit

By Mikhail Ivanov in Moscow

Sergei Yastrzhembsky is not a man to let his tongue run away with him. When
the Kremlin's spokesman on Chechnya lashed out at Taliban support for the
Chechen rebels last week, he was effectively laying down what the army calls
"suppressing fire" in preparation for Wednesday's security summit in Minsk.

The Council of Mutual Security session brought together delegates from
Russia, Belarus, Kazakstan, Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan and Armenia. Its
political significance cannot be underestimated.

Not only was the Taliban theme on the agenda for a secret session of the
summit members, but Russian ministers stood firmly behind Yastrzhembsky's
threat to carry out preventive strikes against Afghan training camps.

The foreign minister, Igor Ivanov, was perhaps less forthright: "In the
event of a threat being posed by one side or the other," he said, "Russian
will keep all her options open - including those mentioned by
Yastrzhembsky."

But senior sources in the Russian defence ministry made no secret of the
fact that the military ordnance necessary for airstrikes against Afghanistan
was already in place. "If the relevant political decision is made, the
strikes could follow immediately," an official told the Interfax news
agency.

The calls for retaliation were timed to create the right ideological
backdrop for the newly created military block. Any bombing campaign against
Afghanistan could well be launched from Uzbek or Tajik soil. Both republics
have expressed growing concerns over the Islamic threat from the south.

But first we should take a closer look at the military alliance which has
been forged between Russia and the six former Soviet republics. 

Even prior to the summit, Russia's president, Vladimir Putin, had declared,
"We're talking about a new qualitative stage in our relations, a new subject
for international law." In other words, Moscow has finally found its own
response to continuing NATO expansion at a time when, to quote its Secretary
General, Lord Robertson, the process of rapprochement with Russia will be a
"gradual" one. We can deduce that Lord Robertson, at least, sees no place
for Russia in the NATO camp.

In this context, the replacement of the defunct Warsaw Pact by a new Minsk
Pact can be seen as a defensive measure prompted by developments across the
former Soviet Union -- the recent NATO trip to Estonia aimed at assessing
the republic's readiness to join the bloc, visits by NATO ships to Ukrainian
ports and the overtures made by Georgian leader Eduard Shevardnadze to the
NATO brotherhood.

The political orientation of the new bloc was defined by President Vladimir
Putin who commented that the new agreement presented "the main means for
maintaining peace today and in the future". Adding that any such pact should
be "capable of reacting to a changing world", he stressed that it was "open
for others to join".  

This policy of "reacting to the changing world" seems to have been directly
transcribed from Russia's new military manifesto which was approved last
January with Putin's active participation. In fact, the statement is as much
directed against the Taliban as it is against NATO's military interventions,
especially in the former Yugoslavia.

The new Russia-dominated bloc also throws down a clear warning to former
Soviet republics who seem too anxious to throw in their hand with the West -
not just Ukraine but also Azerbaijan and Georgia which Russia has accused of
backing the Chechen rebels.  

Georgia, apparently, has taken the hint. Last week, presidential advisor
Shalva Pichkhadze told the Sevodnya newspaper that he interprets Moscow's
threats of preventive measures as "a hint at further consequences for other
states". Pichkhadze is well aware that Russia suspects the Georgian
government of allowing Chechen warlords to operate military bases in the
Pankisskoe Gorge and run arms across the mountains into Chechnya.

But if the new pact is a direct reflection of Russia's political and
military stance, the threat of attacks on the Taliban terrorist bases raises
more questions than it answers.

On a diplomatic level, a pre-emptive strike against the terrorists would be
easier to sell to the international community than, say, the bombing of
Grozny. In any case, Washington would think twice before pointing accusatory
fingers at Russia - after all, the US military launched long-range cruise
missiles against Afghan bases in 1998. Logically, the USA should be only too
pleased to find another ally in the fight against international terrorism
and its notorious figurehead, Osama bin Laden. Some observers speculate this
angle could be discussed at June's US-Russian summit in Moscow. 

But is the prospect of finding common ground with the USA a compelling
enough reason to send missiles or bombers into Afghanistan? While the
creation of a new military alliance between the former Soviet republics may
serve Russia's geopolitical interests, it also stands as a powerful
deterrent. Whether this alliance needs to prove itself with a baptism of
fire is extremely questionable.

There are still strategic and tactical issues to be ironed out: how will
Belarus, Armenia and Tajikistan contribute to the new bloc in the event of a
joint military action? Or will Russia be left shouldering the full financial
and military burden? Would member states allow their territory to be used as
a springboard for military campaigns, or would their contribution be purely
logistical?

Then there is the question of Russian public opinion. Can Russia afford a
war on two fronts? There is no doubt that the Taliban poses an Islamic
threat to Russia's southern borders. There is no doubt that Chechen rebel
units are being trained in Afghanistan. Russian military observer Pavel
Felgenhauer wrote in the Moscow Times last week that the Kremlin had
actually been assisting the Taliban's arch-rival Ahmad Shahd Massood to
conduct covert operations across Tajikistan and other Central Asian states.

But a covert operation and a full-blown war are very different issues. The
Russian army may not be able to keep its promises that any retaliatory
campaign will not develop into a ground war against the Afghans. If you say
"a", you have to say "b", as the Russian proverb has it. 

And the Taliban's threat to "hold Tajikistan and Uzbekistan" responsible for
any pre-emptive strikes may well not be empty. Under the new Minsk
agreement, Russia would be obliged to intervene in the event of Afghan
retaliation. The same applies to Uzbekistan, which, though not a member of
the pact, signed a bilateral agreement with Russia on the eve of the Minsk
summit.

If the majority of Russians support Putin's "anti-terrorist" campaign in
Chechnya, an Afghan conflict would hardly be condoned.  It may be that the
Kremlin's sabre-rattling was aimed at creating the right environment for the
Minsk Pact. It may be that President Putin is once again underlining his
determination to restore order in Chechnya. But, if airstrikes will
eventually trigger a second Afghan war, then the socio-political
consequences at home would be impossible to predict.

Targeting terrorist bases might be tolerated but a ground war on two fronts
could prove to be the straw that breaks the Russian camel's back if it is
lured into the deserts of Central Asia.

Mikhail Ivanov is executive editor of Russian Life, a bimonthly magazine
published by Russian Information Services, Inc.


KARABAKH REGIME RESORTS TO TOTALITARIAN RULE

Comment. The Nagorny Karabakh regime is eradicating any vestige of political
opposition in the run-up to the parliamentary elections

By Anatoly Kuprianov in London

Dreams of building a democratic utopia in Nagorny Karabakh are fading fast.

The conflict in the Armenian enclave signalled the beginning of the end of
the Soviet Union. Never before had one ethnic group been so united in
attempting to create an oasis of freedom and prosperity in the Communist
empire.

Back in 1988, there was real hope of creating an economically stable,
independent state that would favour an open and democratic society where
human rights were respected.

Now it is clear that this bubble has burst. The events of the last few
months point towards a grimmer future - to the emergence of a tough,
totalitarian regime which refuses to countenance any murmurs of dissent. In
the run-up to the June 18 parliamentary elections, any serious opposition
has effectively been crushed.

So where did we go wrong? The seeds of discontent were sown back in 1996,
when Armenia's president, Levon Ter-Petrosian, invited Karabakh president
Robert Kocharian to be his prime-minister.

The move triggered a new mood of uncertainty in Nagorny Karabakh. Kocharian
named the prime-minister, Leonard Petrosian, as his successor. The choice
was unpopular: not only was Petrosian notoriously corrupt but he did not
enjoy the patronage of the republic's real king-maker, Samvel Babayan.

Then the defence minister, Babayan was the hero of the war against
Azerbaijan when he led the Karabakh armed forces to their de facto victory.
At the time, he was the effective ruler of the mutinous statelet, building a
small commercial empire at the same time.

Babayan quickly removed Petrosian from office and replaced him with the
Minister of Foreign Affairs, Arkady Ghukasian, who, at the very least,
boasted a certain degree of personal charisma and presidential bearing.

And Ghukasian may well have ended his term in Babayan's shadow were it not
for the scandal surrounding the listening devices found in President
Ghukasian's offices by the Armenian security services. It was claimed that
the bugs had been planted by the prime-minister, Zhirair Pogosian, on the
orders of Babayan.

The discovery gave Ghukasian the perfect opportunity to turn on his patron -
at a time when the general's political forces had won a substantial number
of seats in the Stepanakert parliament. He was summoned to Yerevan for
secret talks with President Kocharian and security minister Serge Sarkisian,
also a Karabakhi.

On his return, Ghukasian promptly dismissed Pogosian on charges of treason.
It soon became clear that the president was preparing to stand on his own
two feet.

His next move was even more unexpected: the president replaced Pogosian with
Anushavan Danielian, who had recently fled the Crimea where he was suspected
of links with criminal groupings and Russian security services.

It was the first time that an outsider had been appointed to a senior
government position since Mikhail Gorbachev named Arkady Volsky as his
special representative in the region.

Paradoxically, the population at large began to warm to Ghukasian - whose
reputation had previously been tarnished by his affair with a young girl,
who later became his second wife. His popularity even began to equal that of
Babayan - and many Babayan supporters hastily deserted to Ghukasian's camp,
sensing that the president enjoyed the good will of Yerevan.

But the political schisms went hand in hand with a growing economic crisis.
The new government promised swift reforms but high taxes effectively
paralysed the entire economy.

Babayan was swift to marshal his forces as the chinks appeared in
Ghukasian's armour. He threw his weight behind Yerkrapah, the union of war
veterans, strengthening their ranks. Ghukasian retaliated by forming an
alterative veterans' association and men who had fought side by side during
the conflict suddenly found themselves on opposite sides of the fence.

This split in the military opened up a yawning gulf in Karabakh society as a
whole.

The attempted assassination of President Ghukasian on March 22 was the final
nail in Babayan's coffin. Two masked gunmen riddled the presidential
Mercedes with machine-gun bullets, wounding Ghukasian, his driver and his
bodyguard. The shooting cast a shadow of fear and suspicion across the
republic.

However, amid the cyclone of rumours surrounding the event, the Nagorny
Karabakh authorities considered that only one hypothesis was worthy of
further investigation - that the attack had been organised by Samvel Babayan
and carried out by his accomplices.

Retribution was swift. In just a few hours, over 200 people were arrested,
including the commander-in-chief, all his male relatives and anyone who had
a chance of being voted on to the National Assembly in the June 18
elections. Two independent journalists were detained, a third was threatened
with a warrant. Vagram Aghajanian, of the Tasnerord Nahang ("Tenth
Province") newspaper, was sentenced to 12 months in jail for libelling
Prime-Minister Danielian. The sentence was later suspended for two years.

The repression continues, targeting any public figure who expresses any
sympathy for Babayan or any doubt in his guilt. The prisons are crowded with
suspects who are subjected to interrogation techniques reminiscent of the
Spanish Inquisition. Prisoners are denied legal counsel and lawyers are
themselves subjected to physical violence and blackmail threats.

The Nagorny Karabakh authorities have used the terrorist attack to banish
the concept of independent thought from the mountain republic. But, behind
closed doors and across the border in Armenia, conspiracy theories abound.

Armenian newspapers have been pulling no punches. Some claim that the
shooting was masterminded by the Kremlin in a bid to destabilise the region
and bring the South Caucasus back under its wing. Moscow is also keen to
limit Western influence in these former Soviet republics.

Perhaps the most popular theory is that Western special forces were involved
in the terrorist attack. Observers are even making a connection between the
Stepanakert shooting and the political assassination in Yerevan's parliament
last October when eight leading politicians were gunned down. Supporters of
this theory say the West was attempting to remove pro-Russian figures from
the local political scene.

Whatever the truth, the existing regime now makes no secret of its
totalitarian leanings. Recently, Vardkes Bagirian, the president's
right-hand man and a former Babayan ally, said there could be no talk of
democracy in Nagorny Karabakh because the republic was still at a state of
war.

The only person who still appears to believe in the free utopia is Naira
Melkumian, the Minister for Foreign Affairs, who airs her views on the
official Nagorny Karabakh Internet site. And the People's Union of Artsakh,
a socio-political group formed to represent the regime in the forthcoming
elections, is promising to build a civil society. One day.

But the new atmosphere of repression and fear will have far-reaching
consequences. Recent events have dealt a severe blow to the credibility of
both Nagorny Karabakh and Armenia on the international stage. This could
adversely affect Armenia's bid for membership of the Council of Europe and
Karabakh's eligibility for humanitarian aid programmes.

The arrest and alleged torture of former war heroes have badly damaged
morale in the Karabakh armed forces. Professional soldiers are beginning to
mutter that they can expect little recognition for their services if
decorated veterans are being thrown into jail. Discipline is crumbling, the
officer class is emigrating abroad and the defence budget is at an all-time
low. The Karabakh army is more vulnerable today than at any time since the
1994 ceasefire.

The pogrom launched against Samvel Babayan and his immediate entourage has
removed any element of competition from the forthcoming elections. Only
those whose candidature has been personally approved by Arkady Ghukasian
will be permitted to stand.

It is unlikely that the elections will be recognised by the international
community: Azerbaijani refugees, who made up 25 per cent of the population
before the war, will be unable to take part while rumours abound that the
authorities have deliberately doctored the electoral roll. 

The course of ongoing peace talks depends heavily on the results of the
parliamentary elections. But Samvel Babayan was perhaps the main opponent of
any resolution that did not have the interests of Nagorny Karabakh at heart.
His removal seriously weakens the cause of Karabakh independence.

Reports of repression and human rights infringements in Nagorny Karabakh
will do much to damage Stepanakert's international reputation.
Representatives of the Armenian community in the enclave rejected calls for
autonomous status within the Azerbaijani state on the grounds that
Azerbaijan had a poor human rights record and was unable to guarantee the
freedom of its own citizens, let alone the Karabakhis.

The ongoing pogroms in Stepanakert make Azerbaijan seem like an oasis of
civil liberty by comparison. And, at a time when many leading figures in
Azerbaijan see military intervention as the only real solution, the battle
readiness of Karabakhi forces has never been poorer.

Anatoly Kuprianov is a political observer and commentator.


MURDERS LINKED TO CHECHEN CONFLICT

Russian police believe Chechen Wahhabis may be responsible for eleven
gruesome murders in two Caucasian republics

By Alexander Voronin in Vladikavkaz, North Ossetia 

A spate of grisly murders in the Caucasus has fuelled fears that Islamic
extremists are plotting to reignite smouldering ethnic conflicts across the
region.

The murder of five Georgians in the breakaway republic of South Ossetia was
followed by the apparently motiveless killing of six picnickers in
neighbouring North Ossetia.

A special team from Moscow has been sent to the Caucasus to investigate the
crimes, which reportedly bear all the hallmarks of ritual executions.

The attack on the carload of Georgians took place on the eighth anniversary
of a bloody battle between South Ossetian separatists and Georgian army
troops. The mountain statelet won de facto independence in 1992 after a
two-year struggle against the government in Tbilisi.

The five victims died when armed men fired automatic weapons at their
vehicle in the Goriisky region, a part of South Ossetia largely inhabited by
Georgians.

However, local authorities are unwilling to link the attack to local
rivalries, saying that this may have been an attempt by agents provocateurs
to fan the embers of the old feud and trigger fresh fighting.

Later in the same day, a North Ossetian shepherd spotted an overturned white
Lada in a gully near the village of Oktyabrskoe. He called local police
officers who discovered the corpse of a young man inside the car. The man
had been handcuffed, his throat slit and his body riddled with stab wounds. 

A search of the area revealed another five corpses - two men and three women
who had all suffered similar mutilation. Aged between 26 and 31, four were
residents of the nearby village, two were visitors from Abkhazia. They had
apparently driven to the woods for a picnic.

Kazbek Dzantiev, Minister of Internal Affairs for North Ossetia said, "The
brutal nature of this crime indicates that the murders were committed by the
so-called Wahhabis whose calling card is well-known across the North
Caucasus."

Dzantiev believes the motive was "an attempt to widen the zone of military
and terrorist activities in the south of Russia."

He linked the murders to the May 11 attack on a unit of interior ministry
troops in Ingushetia. The ambush, near the village of Khalashki, is thought
to have been staged by Islamic fighters from Chechnya under the command of
the notorious field commander Arbi Baraev. The attack claimed the lives of
19 Russian servicemen who had just been completed their tour of duty and
were due to be demobbed.

Russian president Vladimir Putin has since appointed Vladimir Kozlov, deputy
head of the interior ministry to head the investigation. Kozlov agreed that
the murders in North Ossetia were "ritual killings, aimed at spreading
terror across the North Caucasus" and were committed by five or six armed
men. Robbery has been ruled out as a possible motive: the victims' valuables
had not been removed.

The crimes were committed in the Prigorodny province of North Ossetia which
has a history of ethnic unrest. Neighbouring Ingushetia has territorial
claims on the region and, in 1992, the simmering dispute erupted into armed
conflict between the two republics.

Lev Dzugaev, press secretary for the president of North Ossetia, Alexander
Dzasokhov, said the murders came just days after a meeting between
Ingushetian president Ruslan Aushev and Dzasokhov aimed at resolving the
border dispute.

Meanwhile, the Chechen vice-president Vakha Arsanov has accused the Russian
security services of committing the murders in a bid to destabilise the
entire region.

Alexander Voronin is a correspondent for Moskovsky Komsomolets.


AZERI FISHERMEN PLUNDER STURGEON STOCKS 

Corrupt officials in Azerbaijan are suspected of lining their pockets with
the proceeds of illegal sturgeon fishing.

By Kamal Ali in Baku

It rains caviar in Azerbaijan. Over the past decade, illegal sturgeon
fishing has reached such epidemic proportions that poachers have been known
to dump their excess harvest from aeroplanes. 

The region's markets are overflowing with tins of black-market sturgeon
eggs. Baku's "New Market" is full of unlicensed traders selling tins and
cellophane bags full of the delicacy. The former are stolen from factories,
while the latter are a product of the illegal 'harvesting' of sturgeons out
at sea.

So widespread is the illicit trade, the United States - where the annual $75
million consumption of caviar accounts for only 30 per cent of the global
trade - now refuses to import caviar without a certificate stating it was
caught legally. 

Poaching is risky in more ways than one.The criminals pay little attention
to hygiene when processing the roe -the health hazards associated with
sealing freshly harvested eggs in cellophane are obvious. 

But, more importantly, the illegal trade could bring about an ecological
disaster.The removal of Soviet era restrictions - which strictly limiting
caviar fishing to estuaries of the Volga and Kura rivers - is devastating
stocks. 

"You used to catch three sturgeon a day," said one fisherman. "Now you won't
catch a single one for three days." 

Scientists are increasingly alarmed by dwindling stocks."The number of new
fish has fallen to a catastrophically low level," said Rafig Kasimov, head
of the fish physiology and toxicology laboratory at the Academic Institute
of Physiology. "

The number of sturgeon in the Caspian has fallen so much that one breed has
been entered into the international "Red Book" of endangered species."
Because almost all Caspian countries allow widespread illegal fishing, says
Kasimov, there will be no sturgeon left within three to five years. 

Poachers are not the only culprits. The state fishing enterprise, Azerbalyg,
does not appear to be taking the problem seriously. It routinely flouts
fishing quotas - to the extent that its overfishing is widely publicized in
the Russian press - while airily dismissing concerns over stocks. 

Academics who express concern are "misleading society," says senior
Azerbalyg' official,  Tariel Mamedli, and have "no expertise" in modern
industrial fish farming. 

Mamedli insists Azerbaijan is not over producing the delicacy, merely
catching up on unused fishing quotas going back seven years. He even boasts
the country broke all previous records for the volume of its caviar exports
last year. 

Nor will he acknowledge the scale of the poaching trade. The huge volumes of
caviar in the region's markets, says Mamedli, are imports from Turkmenistan
and Kalmykia. 

His claims have not washed with sceptical journalists. The national
newspaper, Khurriet, recently alleged that Azerbalyg's ships are often
unregistered to enable them to moonlight as poaching vessels. It also
claimed that poachers routinely bribe Azerbalyg managers. 

Mamedli's official response has been fairly muted, considering the severity
of the accusations. He's flatly denying all accusations of wrongdoing, but
failed to demand a retraction or apology from the paper. Instead, he
claimed, somewhat implausibly, that the paper's editor is a sacked fishing
worker out for revenge. 

He's made similarly improbable claims in the past. When an Iranian
environmental official criticised Azerbalyg overfishing and failure to
restock, Mamedli simply retorted that Iran was responsible for most of the
poaching. 

Blame should be squarely placed on the shoulders of Azerbalyg, state
bureaucrats and poachers, all of whom are engaged in profiteering and
exploitation. Turning a blind eye to poaching has become a sure-fire way to
line one's pockets in modern Azerbaijan. The only losers, it seems, are the
fish.

Kamal Ali is a deputy editor for social issues for the daily Zerkalo in
Baku.


GEORGIAN FILMS LOSE DIRECTION

The Georgian film industry mourns the passing of its heyday, while its
directors fight tooth and nail over the last few crumbs of state funding

By Kakha Tolordava in Tbilisi

"I'm leaving. Going to Moscow," says Alex Tsabadze, an internationally
acclaimed young filmmaker. "I've got no choice. I'm over 40 and making films
is all I can do. My new screenplay is finished and I can't wait six or seven
years for the movie to be made."

Tsabadze smiles nervously over his cup of tea. It's a bold decision and one
that has caused him a good deal of soul-searching. But the director has
refused to sell out by channelling his considerable talents into
advertising, TV or the nightclub scene.

Soviet era grants for film projects are little more than a golden memory.In
those days, Georgia Film - the main Tbilisi studio - was the pride of the
republic. Back then, you could step into a taxi, pronounce the magic words,
"Georgia Film, please!" and the driver would refuse to take a penny. Actors
and directors were national heroes.

Georgian films were then imbued with hidden protests against the system,
boasting an elaborate aesthetic language that defied the propaganda machine.
Directors employed fables or fairy-tales to realise their artistic vision:
allegory and symbolism became their weapons in the ongoing battle against
the censors. Meanwhile, the film-going public developed an uncanny ability
to read between the lines.

Today, the challenges are different. With the ideological burden removed,
state funds have dried up to an irregular trickle. Many Georgian filmmakers
are forced to go cap in hand to foreign investors in their search for
financial backing. Others simply take their talents elsewhere, to Russia or
the West.

Productivity has reached an all-time low. Of the handful of films made since
the collapse of the Soviet Union, "Lost Killers" by Dino Tsintsadze was made
in Germany and Otar Ioseliani's "Brigands" was shot in France. 

Quality, however, doesn't seem to have suffered. "Lost Killers" was shown at
the Cannes Film Festival this year.

Otar Shamatava, the newly appointed executive director of Georgia Film,
said, "In better times, the studio used to produce more than 20 films a
year, not to mention documentaries, TV features and cartoons. Today, we have
to finish off 13 films that went into production four to five years ago. We
even have one that was started in 1992. We hope to shift the backlog by
2002."

But the director says the industry must move with the times. "The main
problem is that there's a power struggle between two different mentalities,"
he said. "One lobby holds that the state should subsidise all culture in
Georgia, including filmmaking. The other is more market-orientated and I
stand wholeheartedly behind this approach."

Shamatava has opened a pioneering Producer's Centre, which is aimed at
giving both directors and businessmen the chance to produce their own films.
Projects are entered into a competition judged by Georgia Film and the
winners receive state grants to supplement the producer's own investment.

"In the beginning, it'll be a hard job for all newly established producers,"
admits Shamatava. "But I believe they will gradually improve. We have to
teach producers to think independently."

The project marks an attempt to solve the problems created by Georgia Film's
director general, Revaz Chkheidze, who has held the post for 30 years. With
the state budget allocation barely sufficient for making two films annually,
Chkheidze has tended to allocate the money as he sees fit, usually favouring
old-guard directors at the Tbilisi studios. The practice has provoked angry
protests from younger filmmakers who are often left out in the cold.

Shamatava hopes to introduce a new spirit of competition - but his ideas
have run into heavy resistance from the conservative cabal. A major scandal
blew up two years ago when the studio's creative council - responsible for
approving projects and supervising production - decided to halt two film
projects over creative and financial squabbles.

The dispossessed directors accused the council chairman, Giorgi Shengelaia,
of favouritism. Shengelaia countered that certain big-budget projects should
be shelved to allow for more promising low-budget films. He said that
Shamatava's Producer's Centre was the only realistic way of dealing with the
problems.

The scandal erupted into open conflict, with directors in the opposing camps
entering into angry shouting matches or even coming to blows. One director
remembers, "I was in a traffic jam when a colleague of mine - one of
Chkheidze's supporters - signalled to me to pull over. Then he called me a
traitor, accusing me of supporting a person [Shengelaia] whose only
intention was to take over Chkheidze's job. I only escaped a fist-fight
because there were other people in the street."

Another director, David Janelidze, comments, "I respect Revaz Chkheidze but
his approach fails to keep pace with today's demands. He's slowly turning
into a statue. He gives the green light to virtually every project and I'm
sure he has the best intentions, but he must know the studio won't have
enough money to finish them."

Meanwhile, the Georgian film community does its best to survive, waiting
eagerly for another golden era. "Have a look at this," said one director,
proudly opening his fridge to reveal rows of Kodak film canisters. "I bought
them really cheaply a couple of years ago. Now, if I find money for my
project, at least I won't have to buy film."

Set designer Jemal Mirzashvili says the industry is further handicapped by a
poor distribution system and a growing lack of interest from cinema
audiences. "It takes so long to finish a film," he said, "that directors
simply throw all their ideas into one movie. No one cares about the local
audience or genre diversity. Everyone wants to produce auteur cinema."

As a result, most employees don't even get paid for the films that make it
on to the silver screen. "I've just finished a film that I've been working
on for three years," says Mirzashvili, "and I swear I haven't got a penny
yet."

The studio lot at Georgia Film looks like a bomb-site. Half the equipment
has been sold while many of the studio pavilions have been rented out to
sausage and wine manufacturers. A half-built church stands outside the main
studio building.

"It's like in American cartoons," says Alex Tsabadze. "Have you seen the one
where the cat chases the mouse and suddenly everything goes black and white?
They go back to see what's wrong and there's a sign which says,
'Technicolour ends here'. It's the same for us. Everything today is black
and white. The colour has run out."

Kakha Tolordava is a scriptwriter in Tbilisi



********** VISIT IWPR ON-LINE: www.iwpr.net **************

IWPR's Caucasus Reporting Service provides the regional and international
community with unique insiders' perspective on the Caucasus. Using our
network of local journalists, the service publishes objective news and
analysis from across the region upon a weekly basis.

The service forms part of IWPR's Caucasus Project based in Tbilisi and
London which supports local media development while encouraging better local
and international understanding of a conflicted yet emerging region.

IWPR's Caucasus Reporting Service is supported by the UK National Lottery
Charities Board. The service is currently available on the Web in English
and will shortly be available in Russian. All IWPR's reporting services
including Balkan Crisis Reports and Tribunal Update are available free of
charge via e-mail subscription or direct from the Web.

The institute will be launching a fourth news service, IWPR Central Asia
Reports, in the coming months. To subscribe to any of our existing or
forthcoming news services, e-mail IWPR Programmes Officer Duncan Furey at
duncan@iwpr.net.

For further details on this project and other information services and media
programmes, visit IWPR's Website: <www.iwpr.net>.

Editor-in-chief: Anthony Borden. Managing Editor: Yigal Chazan; Assistant
Editor: Alan Davis. Commissioning Editors: Giorgi Topouria in Tbilisi,
Shahin Rzayev in Baku, Mark Grigorian in Yerevan, Michael Randall and Saule
Mukhametrakhimova in London. Editorial Assistance: Felix Corley and Heather
Milner. To comment on this service, contact IWPR's Programme Director: Alan
Davis alan@iwpr.net

The Institute for War & Peace Reporting (IWPR) is a London-based independent
non-profit organisation supporting regional media and democratic change.

Lancaster House, 33 Islington High Street, London N1 9LH, United
Kingdom.Tel: (44 171) 713 7130; Fax: (44 171) 713 7140. E-mail:
info@iwpr.net; Web: www.iwpr.net

The opinions expressed in IWPR's Caucasus Reporting Service are those of the
authors and do not necessarily represent those of the publication or of
IWPR.

Copyright (c) IWPR 2000

IWPR'S CAUCASUS REPORTING SERVICE, NO. 33

-- ### --


{#} ----------------------------------------------------+[ crsenglish ]+---