Resistance? But decorative, please

Elections in Georgia in 2025. Once again, the country is being called upon to convince itself of the legitimacy of the government. Once again, parties are declaring that they are "declaring war on the regime" – this time in the "local electoral arena." It sounds combative, pathetic, heroic. The coalition "Lelo – Strong Georgia" is campaigning on opening a new front against Russian influence. Gakharia's party, "For Georgia," is calling for no ground to be given up without a fight.

Big words are heard: the fight against the "Russian regime," against the "dictatorship," against "foreign rule." But amid all the belligerent rhetoric, an uncomfortable question arises: Are they really fighting—or are they just playing along? Anyone who follows Georgian politics closely quickly recognizes a pattern. A game whose rules have long been established. And a system that doesn't kill its opponents, but rather seeks to co-opt them.

Or, to put it in a metaphor: Welcome to Georgia's very own version of Squid Game .

Arena of democracy – or perfectly staged game show?

The metaphor is obvious. In Squid Game, desperate people are forced into a grotesque arena where they play for their lives. At first glance, they have a choice: play along or die. But this choice is a farce. Those who stay outside have no prospects. Those who stay inside play by the organizers' rules. Rules that change only in detail, but always have the same goal: to give the participants the illusion of control.

This is exactly how Georgian elections will function under the conditions of 2025. The government calls for a "free election." The opposition is allowed to participate—formally with equal rights. There are ballot boxes, polling stations, election commissions, and cameras. And yet everyone knows how the game ends. The apparatus is riddled with loyalists. The administration and media are aligned. Critical voices are criminalized or intimidated.

Thus, the election becomes not an instrument of renewal, but a stage on which the regime demonstrates its legitimacy.

“We are opening a new battleground”

This is precisely what the "Lelo – Strong Georgia" coalition is now selling as a strategic ploy. According to its Secretary General, they want to "open up another theater of battle" against the Russian system. As if the regime wasn't banking on precisely that. After all, nothing strengthens an authoritarian order more than an opposition that dutifully adheres to the election calendar. It publicly proclaims that the election is a battle – and thus nurtures the illusion that there is still a playing field for fair competition.

We know this from Squid Game: Every time the participants rebel and want to boycott the game, they're lulled back into a false sense of security. "You want a fair chance? Then play. Without us, there's no salvation." The game masters know how to transform despair into obedience.

In Georgia, too, the opposition is told: "Either you play along – or you disappear." And they play along. Again and again.

Returning to the game – for fear of becoming irrelevant

It's worth analyzing the official justification of the opposition candidates. Beka Liluashvili, leader of "Gakharia – For Georgia," said in an interview with Tiflis24:

“We believe that all battlegrounds must be used – and elections are one of them.”

That sounds pragmatic. Realistic. And yet it's precisely the language of the losers. After all, what does "utilizing all battlefields" mean when the enemy controls them all? When the electoral commission, the media, the security agencies—even the public's perception—are dominated by the ruling party?

In Squid Game, these "battlefields" are simply called new games. Each round becomes deadlier, the rules more unfair, the prospects of victory more absurd. And yet the players return – because there's nothing waiting for them outside.

The illusion of exit

This is also part of the analogy: In Squid Game, participants are theoretically allowed to abandon the game. They vote democratically. And they actually leave the arena. For a moment.

But outside, hunger, debt, and violence await them. So they return. And that's precisely what the regime is banking on. Those who call for a boycott are opposing their own livelihood. Political parties thrive on visibility, money, networks, and electoral lists. An election boycott means risking all of that. No budget. No mandates.

The government knows that as long as it controls the infrastructure of political existence, the opposition will always crawl back into the arena.

A game without rules – or just with broken rules?

Representatives of "Lelo – Strong Georgia" declared at their press conference that they would not give up "one inch of freedom." They called for a great, just fight.

But what kind of fight is it when the referee is bribed? When the rules can be changed at any time? When opponents are disqualified, imprisoned, or destroyed by the media?

The 2021 local elections provided the prototype for this model. Systematic violations, abuse of administrative resources, disinformation campaigns, and threats or acts of violence. Not a single one of these practices has been abolished since then. On the contrary, the system has been further perfected.

The real benefit for the regime

The regime loves elections. Not despite, but because of their staging. They provide proof that Georgia is supposedly a democracy. International partners are reassured. Funding remains. Even sanctions can be averted.

The opposition's participation isn't a threat to this—it's a gift. As long as it's on the candidate list, the regime can point the finger at the ballot boxes and say: "Look, everyone can run!"

It's exactly the logic of Squid Game: Without players, there's no show. The government needs the opposition to continue playing the opposition role.

But what is the alternative?

This is where things get uncomfortable. Beka Liluashvili poses a very clever question to his critics:

“What happens after the boycott?”

A legitimate question. Because, of course, a boycott doesn't automatically mean change. But it does mean refusing to play the game. Exposing the show. Forcing the international public to talk about the farce.

Anyone who participates, however, provides proof that the game works.

“We can win in Tbilisi”

Gakharia's party argues that even rigged elections offer opportunities: a city council seat here, a mayoral office there. Visibility. Leverage.

But do these offices really have leverage? The reality in Georgia shows that even if the opposition wins in Tbilisi, key resources remain with the Ministry of the Interior, the Ministry of Regional Development, and loyal officials. Budgets are blocked. Projects are halted. Mayors are disempowered.

Squid Game shows that you can survive some rounds – but you can never win the game itself.

The moral trap

The system forces the opposition into a perfidious trap. Those who don't run are considered "inactive" or "treacherous." Those who do run become part of the legitimacy.

The government can rest easy. Every opposition election campaign mobilizes citizens—not against the system, but within its parameters. Every campaign increases voter turnout—and thus the value of the authoritarian seal.

What would be more honest?

It would be more honest to call a spade a spade: These elections are not an arena of resistance, but an arena of co-optation. A means of discipline. A game with only one true winner.

Anyone who truly wants to be in opposition must be prepared to disrupt the game. A boycott is not a surrender. A boycott is an act of delegitimization.

When parties like “Lelo – Strong Georgia” and “Gakharia For Georgia” enter the local elections today with pathos and war language, they should be reminded of how Squid Game works.

It begins with the promise of a chance. It ends with the death of those competing against each other—while the game masters applaud from the balcony.