In the heart of Tbilisi’s Armenian quarter, Avlabari Square is where crowds gather for the “Saturday March”. Every weekend, protesters head towards the Bridge of Love, reach Freedom Square and march towards parliament, chanting slogans against Irakli Kobakhidze’s government.
For years, the target has been the same: Georgian Dream, the ultraconservative party in power since 2012, accused of growing authoritarianism and, through its decision to suspend EU accession talks, moving the country closer to Moscow again. Georgia was granted EU candidate status in 2023.
Monday marks two years since the contested parliamentary elections on 26 October 2024 that ignited the political crisis. Protests began two days later and peaked on 28 November, when the government announced it would not put the opening of EU negotiations on its agenda before the end of 2028.
Georgia is experiencing a curious paradox: while many of its citizen would like the country to be more democratic and form closer ties to Europe, Georgia is attracting growing numbers of tourists drawn to its historic sites, post-Soviet atmosphere and unspoilt landscapes.
While the streets of Tbilisi have become the stage for one of the longest protest movements in recent history, in 2025 the country, according to data from the Georgian National Tourism Administration, recorded a high of more than 5.5 million international tourist visits: an 8.4% increase on 2024 and almost 10 times the number (about 560,000) who visited the country 2o years ago.
Travellers come not only from Europe; many are from the Middle East, and large numbers come from Russia.
After the full-scale invasion of Ukraine in 2022, tens of thousands of Russian citizens relocated to Georgia, bringing money and opening businesses, but also exerting strong pressure on the property market by buying homes across the country.
This has fuelled discontent among a population that, mindful of the early 1990s wars against Russian-backed separatists in South Ossetia and Abkhazia, and the brief August 2008 war fought against Moscow, also in South Ossetia, continues to consider Russia an occupying power.
The mythical land of the Golden Fleece and the Argonauts – the ancient Greeks called the journey to reach it “the longest possible voyage” – is now a republic roughly the size of Ireland, with a population of fewer than 4 million. Georgia emerged from the fall of the Soviet Union in 1991.
Sandwiched between Russia and Turkey (alongside Armenia and Azerbaijan), it offers a wealth of attractions that draw tourists: quaint mountain villages scattered along the Georgian Military Road, ancient Orthodox churches overlooking rivers and valleys, fascinating post-Soviet cities with a decaying atmosphere, wine with a millennia-old history, a lively “Las Vegas” on the Black Sea (the port of Batumi) and a dynamic, cosmopolitan capital.
Tbilisi, with its rich underground scene and repurposed industrial spaces, is reminiscent of 1990s Berlin. One of its crown jewels, a true symbol of national independence, is the Rustaveli theatre, renovated 20 years ago by the billionaire who founded Georgian Dream in 2012: Bidzina Ivanishvili. Now in his 70s, Ivanishvili served as Georgian prime minister between 2012 and 2013 and made his fortune in Russia during the 1990s after the Soviet collapse.
Today, the relationship between Georgia and Russia is built on a contradiction that is difficult to resolve. After the 2008 conflict and the consolidation of Russian military control over Abkhazia and South Ossetia (regions accounting for approximately 20% of Georgian territory), diplomatic relations between the countries were severed.
Yet economically, Moscow remains a partner that is difficult to replace: trade, tourism, remittances and Russian capital, along with energy imports, prop up Tbilisi’s economy, which, despite strong growth – GDP rose by 7.5% in 2025, marking five consecutive years of expansion – continues to be affected by unemployment, low wages, widespread poverty and, in many rural areas, depopulation.
But Georgia’s predicament extends beyond its domestic political crisis, reflecting wider geopolitical tensions.
Relations with Brussels have deteriorated recently; the EU has criticised the Georgian government’s record on the rule of law and political repression. And many believe a strengthening of Moscow in the Ukraine war could significantly increase its ability to exert pressure on the Caucasus.
Both of which make the question inevitable: does the future of a vulnerable Georgia – internationally isolated and with limited domestic support – also hinge on the fate of Ukraine?