IWPR Mission to Armenia
Diaries by Mari Betlemidze and Idrak Abbasov
IWPR Mission to Armenia
Diaries by Mari Betlemidze and Idrak Abbasov
What was I supposed to do in the Armenian capital Yerevan while such important events were taking place in my own country, Georgia.
These included preparations for upcoming presidential elections, opposition candidates’ statements, Georgian president Mikhail Saakashvili’s new promises, and uncertainty over the closure of the opposition Imedi TV company.
While on the road to Yerevan, I thought of all the interesting reporting I could do if I wasn't leaving Tbilisi at this time.
However, just 12 hours later, I gathered far more information than I could have imagined. By the end of the day, me and the other participants in this IWPR mission had already met ten experts and politicians.
First, we spoke to political observer from the information centre Noyan Topana David Petrosian, who gave us an overview of the situation in the country. He reminded me of Georgian politician Paata Zakareishvili, who has a similar manner of speaking.
Most television media in Armenia, just like that in Georgia, are loyal to the government, while opposition television channels similar to Imedi have been closed.
Obvious similarities exist between former president Levon Ter-Petrosian and Georgian politician Levan Gachechiladze, in terms of their efforts to address society’s ills.
While Gachechiladze promises to get rid of fanaticism, Ter-Petrosian pledges to purge corrupt officials.
Representatives of Ter-Petrosian's electoral campaign and those of other opposition candidates are certain they will be victorious and don’t see the possibility of a second round of elections. The Georgian opposition are much the same, with every candidate claiming to have vast numbers of supporters.
I interviewed a number of people about their voting intentions, but most dodged the question. “Nobody is worth our trust, ” they said.
Some said they were inclined to back the government candidate, Prime Minister Serzh Sarkisian, as they knew what to expect from him. “At least, we know his good and bad traits, and he’s more predictable,” said a number of people. Others expressed support for Ter-Petrosian, believing he will get rid of corruption.
However, most of those interviewed were pessimistic and thought the situation hopeless.
Next, I met ruling party representative Arsen Ashotian, who was quite upbeat about the country’s prospects. “Armenia is experiencing economic growth, and we have to acknowledge that,” he said.
His remarks reminded me of Giga Bokeria, leader of the parliamentary majority in Georgia, who has similarly optimistic views.
After our meetings with politicians and analysts, we all met in the hotel lobby and jokingly compared the people we’d met with their counterparts in our own countries.
Story by Idrak Abbasov
"I'm going to Georgia. It's a mountainous region - there's no phone connection, so if I don't contact you, no need to worry." This is what I told my wife and close relatives when I left home on November 24 - but my true destination was Armenia. Only a few of my colleagues and my editor-in-chief knew this - Azerbaijan is still considered at war Armenia due to the unresolved Nagorno Karabakh conflict.
As part of my work with the Institute for War and Peace Reporting, I regularly met and talked to my Armenian colleagues. Just before this trip, I had been to Samtskhe-Javakheti - a region of Georgia largely populated by Armenians. Which meant that, unlike the majority of Azeris, I was not contemptuous of Armenians. I view them as ordinary people with similar strengths and weaknesses.
However, for my mother who lost her nephew in the Karabakh war, for my father whose cousin is still missing, and for my relatives who suffered all the pain and misery of displacement. For all of them, the Armenians are still the enemy. In light of all of this, I had to disguise the fact that I was going to Armenia.
By noon on November 25, we finally got to the Georgian-Armenian border. The Georgian border policemen took my travel documents and those of my colleague Vafa Faradzheva and started looking at us suspiciously. We told them that we are going to Yerevan to attend an event organised by IWPR in cooperation with the European Union and International Committee of Red Cross. The Georgians took their time and called their Armenian counterparts to confirm our story. When they did, we continued on our way.
At the Armenian border checkpoint, security guards waited for the guests from Azerbaijan. After crossing the frontier without any problems, we headed towards the capital.
Finally, we reached our destination. After a thorough check of our hotel rooms, our minders warned us that we were not to go anywhere without them. When outside, they stayed close and took utmost care of us. On one occasion, Vafa was very tired during lunch and took a nap, leaning against the table. Our minders sitting at the next table saw and rushed over, fearing something had happened to her.
After a while, my back began to ache. I took some painkillers, which eased the pain. However, a worried minder insisted that I go to the hospital immediately, behaving like a worried parent over a sickly child.
Finally, we set off on our journey home, heading first to Tbilisi and from there to Baku. At the Georgian border, the guards
checked our documents and, after seeing where we were from, looked at us with admiration.
They almost introduced us to the customs authorities as knights returning from the battlefield, and asked them not to bother us with the necessary procedures.
There was a slight delay at the Azerbaijani border, as passengers on a train entering the country were being checked. For 30 minutes, we waited our turn anxiously. To help my anxiety, I went out for a smoke several times, but still couldn't calm down.
Finally, an officer approached our car and asked for our documents. Just like a criminal confessing his guilt, I handed over my passport, saying hastily "I have to warn you - we are coming from Armenia".
The officer asked, "Why did you go there?" without raising his head.
Quickly taking the programme of our visit, I handed it over to him, explaining that we were journalists. He checked my journalist ID without saying a word and left.
Our anxiety continued to grow. However, after 15 minutes the same officer gave us back our passports and the programme, before wishing us a pleasant journey.
The Azeri border policemen asked the customs authorities not to keep us, explaining that we were journalists. Does this mean that we had worried in vain?
Upon my return to Baku, I told my family where I was. It's interesting that they didn't believe me.
However, the next day, they heard me being interviewed about my trip on Radio Liberty. My younger brother then told the rest of my relatives about it.
Even though my parents consider me a troublesome and stubborn child, it's good that my brothers and sisters see me as a brave man. However, my wife still cannot forgive me for lying in the first place.