A man draped in the tricolor flag of Georgia has become one of the symbolic flagbearers of the Batumi protests — a familiar figure to nearly everyone attending the rallies.
“My name is Zurab Chavchanidze, I’m 58 years old, and I’m from Sokhumi. This flag is inseparable from me; it’s from Sokhumi, dating back to the time of the first national movement,” he explains, touching the Georgian tricolor wrapped around him like a cloak.
“I had hoped I would never have to use this flag again because, for me, it is a symbol of pain and hardship. I wanted it to remain folded, tied to my history and the suffering I endured. But here we are. During the first rally, when the protests began, I only had small flags; I didn’t have an EU flag. I went to the village and traded flags with some kids — I gave them the small Georgian flags in exchange for an EU flag. That’s why these three flags are so significant to me: the tricolor represents the past, the five-cross flag signifies the present, and the EU flag embodies the future.”
Of the two flag bearers at the Batumi protests, one — Temur Katamadze (known as Gafar Yilmaz) — was arrested by police on January 11 and finally deported to Turkey.
The two men met during the Batumi rallies.
“Temur is such a remarkable, educated man — we truly miss him”, Zurab says.
“After the elections, I didn’t know where to go or what to do — whether to just walk alone… But when the students started their overnight sit-ins at the university, that’s when I finally felt I could breathe again”, recalls Zurab Chavchanidze, adding that he finds his greatest hope in young people, whose energy and determination inspire him most.
Zurab and his wife Marina
“There’s enormous power in students, the most important power. That’s why I always tell them they give me soul and strength,” he says. “Since 1987, I’ve been in this struggle — always in conflict with every government. Even during the war, under this [tricolor] flag, 15 young men I fought with were killed — 19, 22, 25 years old… so much pain, not only physical, but spiritual — and that’s far worse.”
Zurab recalls his first act of protest as a student, when he refused to study the history of the Communist Party:
“Zviad Gamsakhurdia had just founded the Helsinki Union, and I joined immediately. I was the first to go on strike at the university. I told the dean I wouldn’t take that exam — how could I, when they made us memorize Party congresses? Thankfully, our lecturer supported us, and the course was canceled,” he says.
Today, Zurab lives in Batumi with his wife, Marina Gorgiladze, in a small former basement apartment. The walls are covered with his handmade artwork — metal flag-shaped pins and colorful flowers he crafts and gives to fellow protesters.
“My works tell stories — through symbols and details,” he explains. “This one shows burning Sokhumi — my escape from darkness. And here,” he points to a bright pink heart, “is the love for Sokhumi, and next to it — bright, peaceful Batumi, where I found light again.”
Zurab’s artwork – “Sokhumi”
He also recalls his most painful memory — fleeing Sokhumi with his mother: “When I saw the troops entering the city, I grabbed my mother’s hand and ran. The streets were silent, filled with bodies… I thought the soldiers ahead were Georgians, but when I shouted, ‘Are you Georgians?’ they turned, aimed their rifles, and captured us.” He was freed a month later by his university friends; his mother was rescued six months after, with help from the Red Cross.
“I can’t explain how I survived without God and love,” Zurab says. “That’s why, after Sokhumi, I’ve made it my purpose to sow love — and to live with it.”
Zurab believes that far too little is spent in Georgia to ensure dignified housing for refugees.
By now, every refugee should have a home, but often the funds intended for support end up lining people’s pockets. While some receive assistance, at most only 10% of the funds actually reach displaced individuals. “I’ve changed my residence 15 times in my life. Everything in our house, from the closets to the furniture, I built myself,” he shares.
Zurab Chavchanidze states that he has fought against the Russian regime both in his youth and in the present day.
“The Russian regime aims to undermine the spirit of the Georgian people. We are a rebellious nation.” He draws parallels to the past, recalling Soviet-era propaganda: “Back then, the state controlled people’s thoughts. No one viewed communism as bad; it was so deeply ingrained that dissent was considered madness. The same system exists today; the same order continues to govern the country. What we need most is a lustration law; otherwise, the same individuals will return to power.”
He concludes, “For thousands of years, no generation in Georgia has escaped war and hardship. We’ve reached a point where the next generation might not even know what war is — yet we are still living through one today.”
