#8
Abkhazia's separatist dream exacts heavy price
By Richard Balmforth

SUKHUMI, Georgia, April 2 (Reuters) - Weaving his truck between wandering cattle and holes in the badly-rutted road, Dzhambul swings between patriotism for the secessionist land he fought for and regret things hadn't worked out differently.

The 100 km (60-mile) road the truck driver takes from Georgia proper to Sukhumi, capital of the breakaway Black Sea territory of Abkhazia, snakes through neglected farmlands, past untended citrus groves and scores of ghostly houses, emptied by the 1993 war of secession.

The path for the Abkhaz has been bumpy since their separatist forces, fighting with Russian weapons and reinforced by Chechen guerrilla units, won that war, forcing out Georgian troops in a conflict that killed at least 10,000 people.

Nine years on, this tiny sub-tropical chunk of land set on an idyllic stretch of coast remains a potential ethnic flashpoint in the turbulent Caucasus region and a conundrum for the world community.

"There used to be fields of maize here. Look at it now. It's desert," said Dzhambul, 38, as he waved at swathes of uncultivated fields near Ochamchira, south of Sukhumi.

"That factory over there used to produce processed meats, chickens, everything you wanted," he said, pointing to a windowless structure in the distance. "Look at it now."

But Dzhambul, who fought as a paratrooper in the conflict and is quick to display war wounds to his arms and back, was adamant there should be no return to rule from Georgia. "The Georgians are to blame for this," he said.

Some Georgians -- nobody appears to have exact statistics -- have drifted back to the homes they fled during the fierce conflict. But many thousands more now live rough in other parts of Georgia, unable to return or afraid to do so.

The Abkhaz separatist leadership clings stubbornly to independence. But its people, who number an estimated 150,000 and differ culturally and linguistically from the Georgians, pay a colossal price.

SITUATION TENSE

Officials in Sukhumi were relentless in their recrimination against Georgian President Eduard Shevardnadze, a hate-figure for the Abkhaz. He sees the restoration of Georgia's territorial integrity as a major goal of his last years in office.

These officials were equally defiant on independence.

"Our course is clearly defined. We are not about to change our position," said Anfi Dzhergenia, the "prime minister," firmly in an interview.

Abkhazia's claim to independence has not been recognised by a single state. A United Nations peace process -- which defines Abkhazia as part of Georgia -- has failed to establish any common ground between the two sides. Mutual hatred is high.

Shevardnadze says a military effort by Georgia to take back Abkhazia by force would only be a last resort. But Abkhaz officials set no store by his word.

Just last week (March 27), four separate explosions in the area of Ochamchira port on the Black Sea hit a commuter train, the rail station, a main road and the docks area in the early morning, killing three people and seriously injuring 28.

Abkhaz officials who visited the blood-spattered, mangled interior of the train said the explosions were engineered by Georgian special forces. Georgia denied any involvement.

Meanwhile, raids by pro-Georgian guerrillas into Abkhazia fuel a feeling of insecurity in the province's border areas with Georgia proper.

ECONOMY IN TATTERS

Russia, Abkhazia's big northern neighbour, turns a blind eye to sanctions imposed by the Commonwealth of Independent States under pressure from Georgia. This allows Abkhazia to import oil, flour and sugar and export citrus fruits, wood, fish and wine to the huge Russian market.

Abkhaz officials draw comfort from signs that the economy is growing, albeit on a modest scale.

"We never counted on getting quick recognition (of independence)," said Sergei Shamba, a former historian who is Abkhazia's "foreign minister." "What is important for us is to raise the level of our economic and social development. Since independence there has been a lot of progress here."

But there is virtually no foreign investment. The average monthly pay is around a meagre 425 roubles (14 dollars).

Developed under Soviet dictator Josef Stalin as a pleasure resort of elegant, neo-classical residences for the Communist Party elite, the beachfront capital of Sukhumi is today a surrealistic, under-populated cityscape.

Humanitarian organisations have put some money into repairs to the infrastructure. But in general there is little cash for reconstruction. Every second building is in ruins.

Its citizens live for the long summer that brings thousands of Russian tourists flocking into the city from the north.

POWERFUL ALLY

Abkhazia's one source of solace in a lonely world is Russia, which still has some military forces at a base north of Sukhumi and deploys 1,500 Russian peacekeepers in the territory.

Abkhaz officials have made overtures to have associated status with the Russian Federation while retaining sovereignty.

These have aroused sympathy in Moscow. But President Vladimir Putin shows no desire to step into a political minefield in a region where Russia is already embroiled in a protracted conflict with Chechen separatists.

A new element in the complex political landscape is the imminent arrival in Georgia of U.S. military instructors to train Georgian special forces for anti-terrorist operations in its wild Pankisi Gorge near the border with Chechnya.

The move has raised suspicions among Abkhaz officials that this could be the start of a new military attempt to retake Abkhazia.

This was discounted by Ghia Nodia, director of the Caucasian Institute for Peace, Democracy and Development in Tbilisi, who has studied the Abkhazia problem.

"The fact the Americans are coming has changed the mood of the (Georgian) government, given them more confidence. But the United States will not encourage Georgia to use force in Abkhazia and the Georgian government would not do anything adventurous without consulting the Americans," said Nodia.

"Abkhazia is a stalemate and there are few signs of that changing soon," he added.

Truck driver Dzhambul, who has two small children, said he had often come under fire late at night from Georgians who cross into Abkhazia on sabotage missions.

And he quickly conjured up a pistol when asked what he defended himself with.

He was vague about what the future held for Abkhazia. But he has a fall-back plan in place should it all end in tears. Seven years ago he took out Russian citizenship and bought a two-storey house in Cherkessia region, a relatively tranquil corner of southern Russia.