“MY PARTNER’S IDEA was we should move somewhere abroad and live there together,” said Dato Gabunia, a 28-year-old Georgian gay male who resides in Tbilisi, the capital of Georgia. “The thing is, I do not want to move anywhere. I want to live here.” Gabunia is a playwright who has been in a serious relationship with his partner for five years, but social pressure forces them to live separately and to hide their homosexuality from family members.
Georgia is a post-Soviet country on Russia’s border situated in the South Caucasus. A U.S. ally in the war in Afghanistan that aspires to join the EU and NATO, Georgia projects itself as a democratic outpost in the former Soviet sphere. After the “Rose Revolution” of 2003, President Mikheil Saakashvili conducted a series of liberal reforms to make Georgia more appealing to international investment. The country’s Western orientation has since been the staple of its policies, especially since its short war with Russia two years ago.
EU flags fly high next to almost all government buildings in Tbilisi, and many Georgians mistakenly believe that the country is already in the EU. And while Georgia readily accepts Western investment, it is less willing to adopt certain values needed to fulfill its aspirations to become the “Switzerland of the Caucasus,” as Saakashvili once hoped. One conspicuous impediment to EU membership is the almost complete disregard for GLBT rights and the severe discrimination and hatred against this community.
True, Georgia ratified Article 14, Protocol 12, of the European Convention of Human Rights, which bans discrimination on the basis of sexual orientation. It also decriminalized homosexuality with the adoption of a new Criminal Code ten years ago. Also on the books is a law on patients’ rights banning discrimination for medical treatment and a labor code that prohibits discrimination against GLBT employees.
In practice, however, all this official legislation carries little weight. The labor code protects only those already employed but not those applying for a new job. “Homosexual employment is very much segregated,” stated Paata Sabelashvili, president of the Inclusive Foundation, the only GLBT advocacy group in Georgia. “If you go to hair dressers, if you see waiters, eighty percent of guys there are homosexuals. This means that they cannot find a job elsewhere.” Georgia is one of the few countries in the Organization for Security and Cooperation in Europe that has not adopted comprehensive hate crimes legislation.
The government has failed to appreciate the severity of the problem and in fact aggravates animosity toward the GLBT community. “The Georgian government allies itself with all the EU or UN statements, calling to ban discrimination and violence against lesbians and gays, but internally they do nothing,” Sabelashvili said. “In many regards, we would prefer it if we had an openly homophobic government.” That way, the enemy would at least have a face and be susceptible to international pressure.
In December 2009, armed uniformed police raided the office of the Inclusive Foundation, arresting Sabelashvili. During the raid, the police made degrading remarks to the people in the office, calling them “perverts,” “sickos,” and “Satanists.” The incident, allegedly staged by the authorities, was never properly investigated. Sabelashvili believes he was released from prison only as a result of international pressure.
The Inclusive Foundation has never even considered holding a gay pride parade in Georgia. Even rumors of such an event have been enough to provoke homophobic outbursts. Three years ago, the media speculated that the Foundation had a hidden plan to hold a gay parade in Tbilisi. The Georgian Orthodox Church immediately condemned any such plans, warning that such an event would have fatal consequences.
Almost 84 percent of Georgians identify as Orthodox Christians. A recent poll conducted by the Caucasus Research Resource Center showed that the church is the most trusted institution in the country. “I would say all the negative attitudes [toward homosexuality]are predominantly fed by religious feelings,” Sabelashvili said.
The Popular Orthodox Movement (POM) has recently spearheaded a surge of religious extremism. Since its inception last March, POM has been responsible for at least two large-scale attacks against members of the gay community. “Homosexuals declare that we’re all the same. But how are we all the same? They are sick, they are not people. I am not a pacifist, I am a Georgian warrior and will give an adequate answer to anyone who slanders me,” stated POM’s Irakli Pachoshvili. Activists from the movement raided a TV station after it aired a talk show about a book by a young Georgian author that included gay themes. POM was also responsible for street bullying, anti-gay slogans, and assaults on people who had gathered to support freedom of speech in a rally spurred by this book’s publication.
In a recent study conducted by the Inclusive Foundation, only 4.2 percent of GLBT people in Georgia felt that the local society was tolerant toward them. More than a third said that they had been victims of at least verbal aggression. Streets and schools have been identified as the major settings of aggression and discrimination, followed by the Internet. A fourth setting was the respondents’ own homes. Georgia’s patriarchal society, supported by its religious beliefs, shows little tolerance toward anyone who breaches traditional sex roles.
Curiously, though, hugging and kissing between same-sex friends is an accepted form of behavior in Georgia, but no same-sex partners can publicly hold hands or exhibit other forms of affection. “If you see two men hugging and kissing on the streets you can be perfectly sure that they are not gay,” Gabunia said. “Gays would not dare to do this.”
There’s almost no trace of a local gay scene in Tbilisi. Until a recent incident, a club called Success was known as an unofficial hangout for the GLBT community, but after the owners refused to institute face control precautions to prevent openly hostile individuals from entering, gay people boycotted the establishment. Previously packed to the gills, this small place now lies empty and on the verge of bankruptcy.
The information age, which provided Georgians with access to minority websites, offers hope for the future. The rate of coming out has increased in recent years, according to the Inclusive Foundation. Sabelashvili sees progress in the fact that the issue of homosexuality is finally being debated. “What we achieved in the last few years is that we really introduced this topic as part of the public discourse, we lifted the taboo on it,” Sabelashvili said. “Even when politicians talk negatively, we consider this a positive development.”
Gabunia, however, is less optimistic. “I do not know what will happen in a couple of years. To tell the truth, I know that it [being in a same-sex relationship]is a problem, but I am trying to neglect it, to ignore any thoughts about the future.” Gabunia’s parents, who live in the port town of Poti in western Georgia, do not know about their son’s sexual orientation. Instead of confronting them, Gabunia moved to Tbilisi and started an independent life. “I do not see any other way out,” he said.
Lizaveta Zhahanina is a freelance journalist and writer based in Tbilisi, Georgia.
