Striking a balance between religious identity and liberal progress in this historically orthodox country.

article and photos by Alex Potter

Kashveti Orthodox Church is one of hundreds in Tbilisi, the capital of Georgia. In most ways, its features are no different than the others: a small entryway, dimly lit with candlelight, a vaulted rotunda ceiling painted with icons of the Georgian Orthodox Church, and a single priest dressed in his brown day-robes, the gold and silver put away until Sunday. Yet the daily parishioners differ slightly from the majority of the conservative churches in other parts of the city. A traditional building nestled in the middle of Rustaveli Avenue, the main cosmopolitan thoroughfare of the city, Kashveti is a small symbol of the changes in belief and religious tradition Georgia is working through today.

Three tattooed girls cross themselves before entering, tourists snap photos of the ancient ceiling and the young priest speaks amicably with visitors oblivious to the decorum of the Orthodox Church, despite their loosely hung headscarves required of women entering the church. Later in the afternoon, after the din of visitors dies down and just before evening mass, a teenage girl enters. As she prepares to light a prayer candle, someone clears their throat. Without looking up, the girl quickly flings the hood of her sweatshirt–in lieu of a headscarf–over her head.

Georgia is a small Christian nation, nestled between a number of volatile states in the Caucuses. Russia lies to the north, occupying the Georgians’ minds with worry over Chechnya and Dagestan, and quite literally occupying the Georgian provinces of South Ossetia and Abkhazia. To the south are Armenia and Azerbaijan, which have their own bad blood to clear with each other on disputes over seized territories and land rights. Also to the southwest is Turkey, a country whose president has a largely Muslim-centric agenda. Surrounded by fighting nations and those of opposing faiths, Georgians are exceedingly proud of theirs–the Georgian Orthodox Church. Nearly 15 percent of the population follows another religion or denomination of Christianity, but the majority of Georgians still believe that to be Georgian, one must follow the one and true Georgian Orthodox Church. 

Georgia claims itself to be the first Christian nation (founded in 327 AD). In 1991, Georgia emerged from under the Soviet thumb, which prohibited nearly all religious practices and shows of faith. The following generation of Georgians ran back to the Church with open arms. Today, most Georgians trust the Church more than the government, which is why it’s no surprise Church officials have a large hand in directing what the government does. Nor is it surprising that a large amount of endowments from the government go to the Church each year. The elaborately decorated Church of the Trinity is a testament to both the wealth of the Church and the respect it gives the aging Patriarch Ilya II, the unequivocal head of the Church since 1977.

[hr style=”striped”]

SLIDESHOW

[slider navigation_style=”arrows” custom_slider_transition=”move”]

[slide]

 

[/slide]

[/slide]

[/slide]

[/slide]

[/slide]

[/slide]

[/slide]

[/slide]

[/slider]

[hr style=”striped”]

Yet not all is shiny and new in Georgia. Outside the capital Tbilisi, with its European-style alleyways and gleaming designer shops on Rustaveli Avenue, traditional Georgia still thrives. The mountain village of Borisakho, four hours north of Tbilisi, is reachable on a winding gravel path once the paved road ends. Here family farms, superstition, and traditional ways of life still thrive. Women say they’re not allowed to enter the local church while menstruating, and some churches bar entrance to women at all times. Men compete for positions as border guards to the north; the salary gives their family something to actually live on other than the meager income brought in by farming, local trade, and occasional tourists.

One cannot say there is one “real Georgia”, one population that represents the interests of the nation; the cosmopolitan youth and educated professionals in Tbilisi have just as much of a say in Georgia’s future (if not more), but rural Georgians represent a living nostalgia for the faith of the Golden Age, a time of religious freedom and Georgian political dominance, a time no one alive has ever witnessed, from the Middle Ages up till Soviet rule took hold. The challenge for Georgia’s future will be its ability to keep the proud traditional faith while moving toward acceptance of more views and religions–both politically and socially.

That challenge played out clearly on May 17, 2013 in Tbilisi, when local priests attacked a gay pride parade. The group of priests, angry at the push for equality for homosexuals, was quickly joined by dozens of onlookers. The violent mob fought through police lines and in the end injured 17 peaceful protesters. In 2014, a Day of Solidarity was arranged for the anniversary of the riot, and the day went off without a hitch–no priests and no violent protesters. Yet that ugly day in 2013 is just one example of how Georgia is fighting to balance its religious beliefs with social acceptance. During talks to join the European Union, a special representative had to visit Georgia just to assure the populace they didn’t need to legalize gay marriage to join.

The church often views the move toward liberalism and modernization as a degradation of Georgian values at best and blasphemy to the church at worst. When the government wanted to issue electronic ID cards in 2013, the fact that three sixes could appear in a row (the mark of the anti-Christ according to the church) sent believers into a frenzy. The Georgian government had to make a public announcement that such a number series would not occur.

Young Georgians–those born at the end of Soviet Union rule up to the present day, fall everywhere on the spectrum of religiosity. Those who lived under Soviet rule for the first stage of their lives were eager to return to religion–many became nuns and priests, others brought back centuries-old traditions like Georgian chant and hymns–which were all but banned under Soviet rule. Yet the youngest generation, those born just before Soviet rule till now, those who know nothing of religious persecution, have different ideas. Some are as devoted to the church as their elder counterparts, but many have decided being faithful doesn’t mean being out of date. Young people today are opening bars, yoga studios, coffee shops, dance clubs and photo galleries—nearly all of which are in sophisticated Tbilisi. Yet no matter how indifferent a young person may be, one can still see at least a small group of religious icons and paintings in their home, an homage to their faithful ancestors.

[hr style=”striped”]

Alex Potter is a photographer based in the Middle East and the Midwest. In 2012, she was selected as a Rotary Ambassadorial Scholar to Lebanon. She is a recipient of a Chris Hondros Student Fellowship, as well as a Lucie Foundation Emerging Scholarship from 2012–2014. Her work has been recognized by PDN Photo Annual and American Photography, among others.