Georgia protests the shift from EU to Russia - or not?

Since Georgia’s Prime Minister suspended negotiations for EU membership on November 28, 2024, people have been protesting nonstop across the country. Demonstrators demand new parliamentary elections and the release of political prisoners. The government’s response has been increasing repression.

Far fewer people take to the streets than support EU integration. The reasons vary: lack of leadership, nihilism, fear, a nearly nonexistent opposition, or support for the ruling party. For over 200 years, Russia has attacked Georgia in different forms—but always the same scenario. Today, it’s not tanks, but propaganda and fear.

The current events echo the 1921 occupation and following repressions. When I studied that history, I wondered how people lived through it—how they resisted or adapted. Sadly, that reflection feels possible today: how we act now may reflect how we would have acted then.

Georgians have always been at a crossroads, resisting foreign domination. Even our greeting, “Gamarjoba,” means “I wish you victory.” Today, the crossroads is clear: on one side, Russia—corruption, poverty, hopelessness. On the other, the EU—a chance for institutional independence and a better future.

Some say the West is also evil, and perhaps that’s partly true. But if forced to choose between two evils, I choose the lesser. Not choosing at all is choosing the greater.

Through my photography, I explore this tension—between action and inaction, fear and courage, hope and resignation.

Why do so many choose silence over resistance? Why do we ignore the lessons of history?

I used digital camera Fujifilm X100F and Adobe Photoshop to edit the images

This project was created as part of a visual journalism course, and it became one of the most important experiences in my growth as a photographer. The idea began with a simple observation: the division between those who raise their voices in protest and those who remain silent. Living in Georgia, where political tensions have been escalating, I wanted to explore this silence—not just as absence, but as a powerful and complicated presence.

My process began with introspection. I had to confront my own doubts and fears before I could photograph others. I spent a lot of time walking the streets, observing people, moments, and moods. I didn’t rush to shoot. Instead, I let the environment guide me. I also kept a journal to reflect on what I was seeing and feeling, which helped me connect more deeply with the story.

I experimented with different visual approaches until I found one that felt true to the tone of the project. Editing and sequencing were essential in shaping the narrative—I didn’t want to just show images, I wanted them to feel like a quiet conversation.

What inspired me most during this process was realizing how much more intentional and confident I had become since starting the course. For anyone else out there: be patient, stay honest with your story, and allow yourself to grow through the process. That’s where the real transformation happens.