Conflict in South Ossetia

Multiple reports yesterday confirmed that as many as 50 Russian tanks crossed its international border into neighboring Georgia and commenced what can only be described as an undeclared war. There are reports of dozens of casualties and air raids deep into Georgian territory. Strategic Forecasting reported this morning that a full-scale Russian operation had not yet commenced, demonstrating some measure of restraint (or indecisiveness).

The simmering feud in the Caucasus over the fate of Georgia’s breakaway South Ossetia region just boiled over.

From the Georgian perspective, the row over South Ossetia is a fairly cut-and-dried affair. International law recognizes that South Ossetia lies within Georgian territory, despite nearly two decades of ‘non-enforcement,’ meaning that the Georgians have not been able to exercise control over the region since a bloody conflict with the Ossetians in the early 1990s. It has been a region of Georgia in name only, but a region nonetheless. When the Russians began granting passports to South Ossetians, the Georgians protested that this act constituted a kind of ‘back-door’ annexation of the region into Russia. And indeed, yesterday, the stated Russian casus belli (in as much as there was one) was “to protect Russian citizens living in South Ossetia.”

Breakaway republics and regions are nothing new, especially in the Caucasus, where no fewer than three such conflicts presently threaten the region’s stability (Nagorno-Karabakh, Abkhazia, and South Ossetia). In our own history, what was the Republic of Texas – later the US state – if not a breakaway region of Mexico? In thinking about these unique geopolitical situations, we are led to some pretty basic questions regarding nationhood and sovereignty, both popular and national.


The Heligoland Quandary

Traditionally, classical liberals have viewed popular sovereignty as the most determinative factor in these kinds of disputes and situations, at least in principle. Although it didn’t involve a separatist region, I am reminded of the case of tiny Heligoland, a speck of land in the North Sea that Britain relinquished to Germany in 1890 as part of a larger agreement concerning territory in Africa (see The New York Times story from 1890 at the right; click for larger text). From an historical perspective, what Heligoland provides us is a paradigmatic clash between national self-interest and the principles of classical liberalism, for during the intense horse-trading that took place between Germany and the UK over this land swap, no one bothered to ask the villagers of Heligoland, most of whom were Frisian, whether they approved of becoming German subjects. In the House of Lords, only the Earl of Rosebery seemed to give voice to what should have been a priority concern: what do the Heligolanders think?

Britain’s prime minister, the Marquis of Salisbury, brushed off the complaint, asserting that the agreement with Germany precluded the Germans from conscripting the island’s residents; therefore, although no plebiscite was held, there could be no possible reason for the islanders to complain. So much for the principles of classical liberalism, especially when they stand in the way of commerce, which was Britain’s main concern in making the land trades in Africa at the time.

And with that, Heligoland pretty much fades away into history as a tiny footnote in Anglo-German foreign policy. But let us suppose that Heligoland – which had a population of about 1,000 in 1890 – had fiercely resisted German control? Let us suppose that the inhabitants had organized a government and then petitioned the British or the Danes for citizenship. Further, let us imagine that the Germans had treated them poorly (which was not the case, best I can tell). What then?


The Case of South Ossetia

I bring up Heligoland not be abstruse, but because of its smallness. Does such a speck of land, a speck that had never enjoyed statehood of any kind, deserve self-determination of this kind in the hypothetical scenario that I created above?

I would argue that it does not unless there are compelling humanitarian reasons for granting it such. In this, Heligoland bears directly upon the current crisis in South Ossetia. South Ossetia contains about 70,000 people, not all of whom are Ossetian, in a country (Georgia) of about 4 or 5 million. Much depends, therefore, on the South Ossetian grievances against Georgia and whether they constitute “compelling humanitarian reasons” for separatism.

The roots of the current conflict extend back to the beginning of the Soviet Union. During the early 1920s, when the USSR annexed Georgia creating the Georgian Soviet Socialist Republic, it also carved the South Ossetian Autonomous Oblast out of Georgian territory. I have no expertise in Caucasian history and can only guess that historical Russian sympathy for the Ossetians is partly explained by the very different choices made by Ossetians and Georgians during the Russian Revolution. Many Ossetians supported the Bolsheviks; the Georgians did not and in fact had set up an independent republic after the fall of the Romanovs liberated them, briefly, from Russian domination.

In the administration of their empire, the Russians have always been canny mapmakers, using geography both to reward their allies and to strengthen their hold on a region by dividing its inhabitants. In creating South Ossetia, the Bolsheviks achieved precisely this. It rewarded the Ossetians for their loyalty, but it also divided Georgia, thus weakening it. (Incidentally, it also divided ‘Ossetia’ – which never really existed – helpful should Moscow ever need to combat irredentist claims from its Ossetian population.)

All the unresolved antagonisms of the 1920s between Georgian and Ossetian were then frozen in time, that is, until they were thawed out by the fall of the Soviet empire.

While helpful in understanding the background of the current conflict, does history provide a basis for examining the merits of the Ossetians’ case against Georgian citizenship? I think it does.

There is enough detail in the historical record to establish a thoroughgoing dislike between Georgian and Ossetian. This is evident from (a) the bloody clashes during the interim period between Romanovs and the USSR; (b) the 1991-92 conflict after the fall of the USSR; and (c) the laws and regulations passed during the 1990s by the Georgians to suppress the minority Ossetian culture and language. If you are Ossetian, there are substantial and historical reasons to doubt the goodwill of Georgians.

Further, a plebiscite was held in the 1990s in which the South Ossetians rejected Georgian citizenship. In addition, ninety percent of the Ossetians in South Ossetia hold a Russian passport, or, at least, so claim the Russians. In most situations, a classical liberal would judge that the South Ossetians have established a pretty good case for separatism.


The Geopolitics of South Ossetia

If this is so, why do so many commentators in the West side with the Georgians in such a visceral way? Why do the Georgians tempt fate by rattling Russia’s cage when Georgia has no chance to emerge victorious from this conflict?

The answer is found in post-Cold War geopolitics and the machinations of Great Powers. In a report filed this morning, Stratfor explains:

“But this conflict is about much more than simply which flag flies over a tiny chunk of territory in the Caucasus. Georgia is an extremely pro-American and pro-Western state and represents the easternmost foothold of American/Western power. It has also been in the Russian orbit for the bulk of the past 300 years. As such, it is the hottest flashpoint in Western-Russian relations. Which way the territory falls ultimately decides whether Russia can determine security concerns that literally fall right on the border of its heartland. To put it another way, what is being decided here is whether bordering Russia and simultaneously being a U.S. ally is a suicidal combination. Whichever way this works out, the dynamics of the entire region are about to be turned on their head.”

This situation takes us back to the Heligoland Quandary. At what point does national self-interest trump the principles of classical liberalism? Georgia would be of minimal importance to the United States – other than as a minor thorn in the Russian side – were it not for the Baku-Tbilisi-Ceyhan (BTC) oil pipeline. The entire purpose of this pipeline, which carries oil from the oilfields of Azerbaijan to the Mediterranean Sea via Georgia, was to create a pocket of oil supply from Central Asia/southeastern Europe that skirted Russian territory. Because of Soviet-era infrastructure, most of the oil and gas from this region of the world must transit Russia. The BTC was to provide an alternative to Russian infrastructure, and, thus, a little leverage. The Georgian economic development minister reported that the BTC was the target of a Russian air attack, although there have been no independent verifications of this attack according to Reuters. It is easy to imagine that such an attack occurred; after all, the Russians have always loathed the BTC project. It is also easy to imagine that they missed the pipeline on purpose – a shot across the bow, as it were, of Western business interests – as a warning to others to stay out of this conflict. Of course, it is also possible that the attack never took place.

Thankfully, the BTC pipeline runs through Georgia proper and not South Ossetia, but even so, does the existence of the pipeline justify a more aggressive posture from the US? The answer at this stage is no. Only a sustained attack on Georgia proper at this point would move the US to reevaluate its position, which is that all parties should cease fighting and return to the bargaining table. Less overtly, our position is probably that Georgians need to prepare themselves for the loss of South Ossetia, but Georgians knew this day would come.

The more important question is how the loss of South Ossetia will impact internal Georgian politics and its attitude toward the West.