What Chisinau Can Learn from Georgia

However far the spiral of escalation with Russia may turn, sooner or later relations with Moscow will have to be stabilized, as other post-Soviet states that have found themselves at a similar foreign policy crossroads are already doing

Last Friday, following the discovery of a drone in the village of Chistelnita in Telenesti district, Moldova’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs announced its intention to expel yet another member of the Russian Embassy. The diplomatic war of words between Chisinau and Moscow is unfolding according to a familiar script, reinforcing the perception that the two sides remain irreconcilably opposed. For Moldova, however, the question of what practical results these endless reciprocal measures actually achieve is becoming increasingly pressing. The crash of a drone near residential buildings does pose a genuine threat, and the authorities have a duty to investigate such incidents, present evidence of the device’s origin and demand an end to violations of Moldova’s airspace. But the effectiveness of diplomacy also depends on how far its tools help prevent further incidents. And something tells us that expelling yet another diplomat is unlikely to enhance our ability to protect the population. There have been plenty of other grounds for escalating tensions with Russia. In September, for example, the Moldovan authorities protested against the organization of Russian parliamentary elections on the left bank. Just the day before, the two sides had traded barbs at the OSCE, with Russia accusing Chisinau of imposing an economic blockade on the Transnistrian region, while our delegation, in turn, demanded the withdrawal of Russian troops from the region. Yet someone deemed it necessary to raise the level of confrontation this time, so the obvious question is: why now? Clearly, some logic lies behind what appears to be a purely procedural gesture. Perhaps it is connected to the broader context of efforts to resolve the conflict in Ukraine, with Brussels now particularly concerned about any signals that one of its partners might be ready to soften its stance towards Russia. It therefore cannot be ruled out that Maia Sandu and the PAS have once again decided to demonstrate their loyalty in precisely this way. A second explanation is linked to Vasile Tofan’s visit to Kyiv. Perhaps the authorities decided to demonstrate a tougher stance towards Russia because Moldova and Ukraine are discussing joint border controls and energy projects. It is also possible that Chisinau may need to ask its neighbors to “put in a good word” for Moldova if multilateral negotiations open up in the foreseeable future, touching on the future of the wider region. It is difficult to ignore the fact that tensions with Moscow are escalating amid an extremely challenging energy situation. We are entering another winter season under very difficult conditions. Common sense suggests that this is precisely the moment to adopt a more measured approach and give ourselves at least a minimal margin of safety for the cold months ahead, rather than creating additional risks when there are already more than enough. Instead, however, the decision has been made to add fuel to the fire, ensuring that no one in Brussels even suspects the Moldovan authorities of softening their stance. Meanwhile, however far this spiral of escalation may go, sooner or later relations with Moscow will have to be stabilized, as other post-Soviet states have already begun to do after finding themselves at similar foreign policy crossroads on numerous occasions. Kazakhstan, for example, is pursuing a pragmatic balance between Russia, China and the West without sacrificing trade turnover or investment. Armenia is trying to find a new point of equilibrium within the region’s shifting geopolitical landscape, while Belarus, for all the distinctive features of its relationship with Russia, is making no attempt to distance itself from Moscow. In other words, the post-Soviet reality is such that ignoring a neighbor, especially one of Russia’s size, is simply not a viable option beyond a certain point. For us, however, Georgia’s experience is the most instructive: it has travelled from acute confrontation with Moscow towards the gradual restoration of pragmatic dialogue. Last week, Tbilisi appointed a special representative for relations with Russia. It is worth recalling that, following the August 2008 war, in the aftermath of which Georgia lost control over the regions of Abkhazia and South Ossetia, diplomatic relations between the two countries were severed. Since then, contacts have been maintained through intermediaries and parliamentary channels. The appointment of a dedicated official can therefore be regarded as nothing other than a veiled form of restoring those very diplomatic relations. Yet behind this long-overdue political decision lies a long and painful journey. In 2008, Georgia made its greatest strategic mistake by deciding to enter a war in the belief that Moscow would not launch a full-scale invasion in response to an attack on its peacekeepers, but would merely watch as a country that had declared its pro-NATO course restored constitutional control over its territories. Tbilisi was also convinced that, if things went wrong, the West would inevitably intervene. The exact opposite happened. Georgia, which before the war controlled around 40% of the territory of the South Ossetian region and up to 10% of Abkhazia, lost everything. Russia recognised both territories as independent. Had Saakashvili not embarked on that ill-fated adventure, the geopolitical circumstances might at some point have left Georgia a window of opportunity to bring the territories back into the national fold through negotiations. Now, there is no such prospect in sight. Following this painful defeat, the country underwent a complex political transformation. Having recognized its strategic isolation, including the fact that there was little demand for its own products anywhere beyond the Russian market, and having concluded that it could not obtain energy resources anywhere else at prices lower than those offered by Russia, the Georgian authorities made a pragmatic choice. They built their foreign economic ties on the basis of hard math alone. At the time, this decision triggered a storm of criticism both within Georgia and abroad. Some sections of society accused the ruling elites of applying double standards, betraying the country’s Euro-Atlantic course and engaging in trade with an aggressor. Another distinctive feature of Georgia is that it managed to dismantle the Soros-backed ecosystem within the country through its own efforts. This network has yet to lead a single country in the world to success, while bringing trouble to every other one. In neighbouring Armenia, Soros-linked forces came to power and subsequently lost the Karabakh enclave, along with the security guarantees that Russia had previously provided. As a result, Yerevan has set the country on a path towards geopolitical realignment, although even Armenia itself has yet to fully understand what that realignment will entail. In Moldova, Soros-linked structures effectively encompass the entire system of power built around Maia Sandu, the PAS and the closely associated non-governmental sector. Together, they have brought the country to record levels of debt, an uninterrupted outflow of population, a permanent energy crisis and constant escalation with Moscow. Georgia, by contrast, has pushed this powerful influence out of its political system, doing so despite intense external pressure and at the cost of freezing its European integration course. It must be acknowledged that this is, in many respects, a unique experience in the post-Soviet space, one that has also been accompanied by a genuine assertion of sovereignty. A kind of test of this sovereign will came in 2022, when Tbilisi refused to impose anti-Russian sanctions despite persistent calls from Washington and Brussels to do so. The issue was not that Georgians had suddenly developed a love for Russia, but rather that the West offered neither compensation for severing economic ties with Moscow, nor financial guarantees, nor unrestricted access to its own markets, nor alternative energy arrangements. Ultimately, at a certain point, Tbilisi chose a bird in the hand over two in the bush: steady economic growth, the preservation of jobs, an influx of tourists and predictable budget revenues, rather than the distant promise of European integration. It is no secret that Georgia has recorded unprecedented macroeconomic performance in recent years, with GDP growing by an average of 7-8% annually. We are not claiming that Georgia is right or wrong to restore relations with Russia, as a moral judgement would be out of place here: every country has its own history and its own traumatic experiences. The point is that Georgia is pursuing a rational foreign policy, having shifted course by almost 180 degrees and transformed itself from a bastion of Western influence into a pragmatic country focused on its national interests. Moldova, by contrast, is moving in the opposite direction, pushing the escalation pedal to the floor in defiance not only of its own objective aspirations and needs, but also of common sense. Nevertheless, the Georgian lesson demonstrates that decisions can be reconsidered when their cost becomes excessive for society and the state. Maia Sandu and the PAS, however, appear to have tied their own political future so closely to a course of confrontation that any attempt to soften it is perceived as an admission of defeat.