Dancing, kissing in Tbilisi streets as Shevardnadze resigns as leader

TBILISI -- Fourteen years after Eduard Shevardnadze helped ring down the Iron Curtain, he was swept aside himself by the tide of history yesterday, resigning from his post as president of Georgia in what the opposition proclaimed a "velvet revolution."

In scenes starkly reminiscent of the ones Mr. Shevardnadze helped bring about in Eastern Europe, tens of thousands celebrated his resignation in central Tbilisi, the capital, last night by singing, dancing and kissing strangers as fireworks exploded in the sky above the parliament building, marking what they hoped was the end of three weeks of unrest. Many Georgians compared the scene to that of December, 1990, when their country declared itself independent from the Soviet Union.

"The happiness we felt in 1990, we have twice that today," said Koba Kurtanidze, a 32-year-old engineer who was hugging anyone within reach in the first moments after Mr. Shevardnadze's resignation was announced. "The nation got rid of the tyrant that has lived here for 30 years. Georgia can breathe freely now."

Long ago, Mr. Shevardnadze was nicknamed the Silver Fox for his ability to survive one political crisis after another, and to the end, he fought to win himself more time. Even in his last hours as president, the wily 75-year-old leader was trying to set his own conditions for meeting with the opposition, accusing them of orchestrating an armed coup and vying with them for international sympathies.

Late last night, however, he finally acknowledged the obvious: that his people blamed him for endemic poverty and corruption, and that his 31-year reign as Georgia's dominant political figure was over. Mr. Shevardnadze signed his resignation papers at his residence during a meeting with opposition leaders Mikhail Saakashvili and Zurab Zhvania, saying he wanted to keep the political standoff from turning violent.

"I see that all this cannot simply go on. If I was forced tomorrow to use my authority it would lead to a lot of bloodshed. I have never betrayed my country and so it is better that the president resigns," he said in televised remarks.
Following his remarks, the white-haired Cold War icon walked away from the cameras with his head bowed, but managed to give a weak smile and a wave before departing.

He reportedly signed the papers just moments after the departure of Russian Foreign Minister Igor Ivanov, himself a Georgian by birth, who apparently brokered an accord to end the ceaseless protests triggered by a Nov. 2 parliamentary vote that delivered a victory to a pro-Shevardnadze party and was widely viewed as rigged.

After the news was announced, people poured on to Rustaveli Avenue, Tbilisi's main drag, and stayed there late into the night as the tiny country that considers itself the southern edge of Europe cheered what it saw as the arrival of a new hope.
That hope comes largely in the person of Mr. Saakashvili, the 35-year-old leader of the opposition National Movement who is seen as a radical pro-Western reformer.

Mr. Saakashvili forced Mr. Shevardnadze to the bargaining table last night by threatening to order a march on his residence, and emerged jubilant from the final meeting to a crowd of supporters chanting his name.

"The president has accomplished a courageous act," Mr. Saakashvili said later.
"By his resignation, he avoided spilling blood in the country. . . . History will judge him kindly."
"Eduard is not a coward and probably understood [he had] to make this step so that Georgia did not break up," former Soviet leader Mikhail Gorbachev told a reporter. "I think he was right."

It was announced that Nino Burdzhanadze, an opposition activist who was Speaker in the pre-Nov.2 parliament, will serve as interim president. She is required by Georgia's constitution to call a presidential election within 45 days. Mr. Saakashvili, whose party many feel was robbed of a victory in the Nov. 2 vote, is the early favourite to win that vote.

In many ways, Mr. Shevardnadze's decision to step aside was made for him Saturday, when opposition supporters stormed the parliament as he was speaking and pelted him with pens and books as he ran out of the chamber, surrounded by bodyguards.

In the hours that followed, Mr. Shevardnadze proclaimed a state of emergency and handed new powers to the Defence Ministry.
He warned that he might use force to restore order if the opposition didn't leave parliament, but it was already clear the police and the army would no longer obey him.

When the opposition rushed to interrupt Mr. Shevardnadze's speech, not one of Georgia's six separate security forces did anything to stop them.
In the hours before his resignation, one army unit after another proclaimed its loyalty to the opposition, and said it would ignore orders to fire on demonstrators.

"Nobody can go against their own people," said Gocha, a 25-year-old soldier who was dressed in army fatigues yesterday but had left his cap and weapon at home to join the anti-Shevardnadze street rally.

"We serve the Georgian people. We are the Georgian people."

Peter Mamradze, Mr. Shevardnadze's chief-of-staff, said yesterday that the president fell because he listened too much to a circle of hard-line advisers who convinced him that the opposition had no strength.

Until the end, Mr. Shevardnadze failed to see how deeply unpopular he had become.
"People never informed him the right way. I tried to tell him, but I was in the minority. Sometimes he would become angry if you informed him about something bad," said Mr. Mamradze, the only person at his desk in the presidential offices in central Tbilisi yesterday afternoon.

"Any time a politician is cut from reality, it's always the end of their career.

"President Shevardnadze himself taught us this."

The Globe and Mail; Monday, November 24, 2003