Violence in front of Kaladze's campaign headquarters: Another abyss of Georgian "democracy"

An evening that exposed Georgia

On September 8, 2025, Melikishvili Avenue in Tbilisi became a symbol of what Georgian democracy has become: a chaotic scene where violence, intimidation, and government inaction reign supreme. Demonstrators and journalists were physically attacked in front of the campaign headquarters of Kakha Kaladze, the mayor of Tbilisi and figurehead of the ruling Georgian Dream party. Several protesters were injured, reporters were beaten, and their phones were stolen.

Meanwhile, the police stood by, as one would expect from a security apparatus that has long since forgotten whose safety it is actually supposed to ensure.

Violence against journalists and demonstrators

The attack on journalist Keto Mikadze from the Publika portal is particularly shocking. She was assaulted while performing her work and robbed of her cell phone. To this day, the device has not been returned a detail that seems like a side note, but in reality demonstrates the depth of the disregard for press freedom. Other reporters have also been victims of violence: Phones were snatched, insults and threats echoed through the streets, and demonstrators had to be carried away bleeding.

Women were spat on, and individuals were beaten by groups. Among the attackers, one man in particular stood out: Giorgi Shukvani, long known by the protesters as one of the main titushki. That such figures are allowed to operate unchallenged is not a coincidence, but a systematic one.

The police as spectators in their own theater

The police were on the scene. But instead of intervening, the officers remained shockingly passive. They stood there, they observed, they seemed almost as if the violence were part of a script in which their role was clearly defined: not that of law enforcement officers, but that of extras.

It's important to consider this: Citizens are being beaten on camera, journalists are being robbed, women are being spat upon and the state, which likes to portray itself as a guarantor of stability, remains immobile. The same police that don't hesitate for a second when it comes to jailing peaceful activists like Mzia Amaglobeli on flimsy charges suddenly show restraint when it comes to gangs affiliated with the ruling party.

This isn't a failure. This is calculated inaction.

Shalva Papuashvili: It’s always the others’ fault

Instead of condemning the violence, Parliament Speaker Shalva Papuashvili opted for a spectacle of absurdity. He blamed the German ambassador, spoke of "support for extremist groups," and fabricated a "gross interference in the elections" within the meaning of the Vienna Convention.

Imagine this distortion: The demonstrators who were beaten yesterday are the aggressors in Papuashvili's narrative. The Titushki who attacked journalists are portrayed as victims of foreign manipulation. And the real question why the ruling party tolerates violence as a political tool is cleverly sidestepped.

It's a familiar pattern: it's always someone else's fault. Sometimes the opposition, sometimes NGOs, sometimes Western diplomats. Never one's own party, never one's own structures, never one's own will to power at any price.

Kakha Kaladze: Between “Lover” Tattoo and “Hater” Reality

In such moments, Kaladze himself, the man with the supposedly romantic "Lover" tattoo, reveals himself to be what he has long been politically: a "hater." Someone who has no qualms about accepting violence as long as it serves his political survival.

Instead of taking responsibility, he hides behind platitudes about respect and order. But the reality outside his campaign headquarters tells a different story. If his own supporters spit, beat, and rob while the police stand by, then the head of the building bears at least moral responsibility. To remain silent is to consent—and Kaladze's silence is louder than any slogan.

Injured demonstrators and the silence afterwards

Several demonstrators required medical treatment. But the government did everything it could to downplay the issue. No clear condemnation, no announcement of investigations, no arrests. Only the usual silence that has long since become the hallmark of the "Georgian Dream."

It's the same speechlessness we know when it comes to political prisoners. The same speechlessness when the media comes under pressure. The same speechlessness that ultimately is louder than any police baton because it shows that violence is not the exception, but the rule.

Democracy or farce?

The events of September 8 are more than just a street brawl. They are a reflection of a democracy that only exists in name but has long been trapped in authoritarian patterns. Violence against protesters, intimidation of journalists, the instrumentalization of the police, and the absurdities of a parliamentary speaker accusing ambassadors – all this demonstrates that the Georgian government has long considered its own people its enemy.

The call for international consequences

The question that arises is: When will the international community react? How many more attacks need to be documented, how many more demonstrators injured, how many more journalists attacked before it becomes clear that Georgia is not on its way to Europe, but in free fall toward Moscow?

Georgian civil society is calling for sanctions, for political pressure, for a clear stance. Because as long as the government feels it can use violence with impunity, it will continue to do so.

An election campaign of violence

September 8th will be remembered as a day that once again demonstrated that in Georgia, the focus is not on the citizens, but on securing power for a party that has long since lost all sense of proportion. Kaladze, Papuashvili, and the police impressively demonstrated yesterday that they are not guardians of democracy, but gravediggers.

The demonstrators were injured, journalists were attacked, and the perpetrators walked away unchallenged. It's a lesson in how to dismantle democracy: step by step, blow by blow, silence by silence.