War or no war, life is ongoing in Moscow. I have not visited for the last quarter of a century, having no reason to want to come, being, as I was, chronically annoyed with the place and the dwellers thereof. But this summer, I thought it wouldn’t hurt to have a look around the main city of the country which has snatched away almost one-third of my unfortunate Sakartvelo, and which is adamantly keeping a firm grip on it. Call it an ill-fated geopolitical reality, if you wish, or a temporary territorial debacle, but those gamely-coined names and titles, no matter how up-to-date they might sound, are not at all helpful in getting back the lands we have lost to our angry and stronger neighbor.
In my youth, I attended a high-level diplomatic school in Moscow, which, to be sincere, gave me considerable theoretical knowledge that I have since easily translated into my wellbeing. And that’s not all that went into the now-remote coffers of my long-time memory. Has much changed here since those times of my boyhood? Yes, and no! It goes without saying that socialism is out and capitalism is in, but both socio-political structures appear odd here: the former not completely defunct and the latter not totally in action.
Yet, life is in full swing in Moscow. The men and women in the streets remain as fussy as they have always been, rushing in every possible direction with an icy inert look in their eyes. The city is clean and well kept, full of all kinds of handy merchandise, easy to buy and consume (but who knows how felicitous the overall consumption is). The public services of various content and character, including the available mobile phones and taxis, have drastically improved. Some shop attendants have learned how to smile (though many are still stuck with that menacing soviet-time sneer and snarl). And while the people in the streets are dressed like they are in the rest of the world, the collective Russian facial expression remains as overwrought with mysterious anguish as it was, sitting in my memory since my salad years.
The part of the city I met turned out to be the same gorgeous but gloom-ridden Moscow, and the other part that I bumped into was just as striking, with modern glass-and-concrete modern architecture, like any American big-city downtown. The perpetual Red Square cluster, adorned with the Kremlin contours, as well as the cubism-flavored Lenin Mausoleum and Saint Basil’s Church, well-known symbols of the Russian glory and tradition, are all in place as unchanged, stoic and stringent Russian images.
Lazily but ponderously striding back and forth in those familiar streets of Moscow, myriad thoughts roamed through my imagination, connected with the childhood and youth of my generation. The difference is striking between then and now. Then, Moscow was one of the best places for fun and merry-making, education, shopping and leisure. Now, it is the center of scary political decision-making, on which lives depend and futures stand. Nobody knows how things might develop in that unforeseen future, but the way the present looks leaves a lot to be desired. Indeed, it seems the local rank-and-file don’t even know that there is war ongoing somewhere in the vicinity unless they see an episode of the battle on TV, and, of course, the Russian-Georgian strife is far beyond their thought and care.
Although, in Moscow, I found myself in a familiar milieu, surrounded by unassuming people like myself, good food, beautiful parks, immaculately trimmed lawns, ubiquitous theaters and hundreds of fashionable gourmet restaurants, my meditations are not the simplest in the world. As I walked among them, I pondered that while most of our electorate in Georgia, getting ready for the October 26 parliamentary elections, believe that our newly-acquired and constitutionally fortified western orientation is the optimal track for our development, the current blurry and lukewarm détente with Russia may not be single-handedly written off either. And there was always the question hanging over my poor head: what is the best way to continue relations with the Russian people if … (here, add one of the possible endings to our unfortunate modern-day tale)? And the answer to this uneasy question always seemed to be the paradigm of current behavior in Moscow: to stay calm and cool, gingerly exuding a feeling of national independence; remain as quiet as a mouse, making no harmful waves in this not yet consummate world order, so as to avoid upsetting the heavy-loaded applecart; and wait for the best chance of survival to arrive. As the slightly altered saying has it, North or West, home is best!
Blog by Nugzar B. Ruhadze
