Eyewitness: Tbilisi vigil

By Natalia Antelava
Tbilisi

The protestors say they will stay until Shevardnadze steps down

Saturday night was a sleepless one for many in Tbilisi.

As night fell in the Georgian capital, about 1,500 people stood in front of the parliament on Rustaveli Avenue in a kind of protest that Georgia has never seen before.

There were all kinds of them, young and old, men and women. A grey-bearded Orthodox priest, a young man in military uniform, old women wrapped up in woollen scarves, young people in bright orange shirts with Kmara student movement logos on them.

Some chatted, kneeled down in front of bonfires, others stood in circles singing songs and fighting the cold of the night in the outbreaks of dance.

Cups of hot tea and coffee went around, as did jokes and questions.

Powerful protest

"Maybe we could give Shevardnadze as a present to someone," a young student suggested.

"Who would you want to do that to?" others laughed.

The night on Rustaveli felt distinctly different from Saturday's long day of loud protests and demands for the president's resignation over a rigged parliamentary election. Yet the nocturnal vigil was a protest too, and a more powerful one perhaps.

The talk was of revolution, the mood was that of peace and determined hope.

"The change is coming," predicted Shalva Kochladze, a 48-year-old from the town of Gori.

"Hey, if they did it in Yugoslavia, we can do it here," one of the students replied, and told Shalva about peaceful demonstrations that ended Slobodan Milosevic's regime in Yugoslavia.

Shalva nodded attentively: "That's right," he said "We'll stand together like this, we won't turn back and he (Shevardnadze) will have no choice but to go."

Corruption and poverty

In the eyes of the West, Mr Shevardnadze might be no Mr Milosevic, but to those who spent the chilly night on Rustaveli, and to many more across the country, his regime has translated into endless misfortunes.

More then half of Georgia's population lives below the poverty line, government corruption is rampant, $7 pensions are not paid for months and electricity cuts can last for days.

Shevardnadze is blamed for the country's troubles

"My voice and my vote was the only thing I had left. No way I am letting them take that too," said one of the women from the town of Telavi.

Like hundreds of others she reached Tbilisi by foot, as the army has blocked all entrances to the capital and stopped dozens of the opposition supporter buses from joining the rallies in the capital.

"I am not afraid of the police. I am only afraid when I see my children's hungry eyes. Things must change," she said.

The government has mobilised hundreds of policemen and soldiers throughout the city.

But in the dark of the night, the young policemen lined up in front of the parliament seemed of little danger.

They watched the crowd and munched on sandwiches brought to them by student activists.

"We don't get fed," one of them explained apologetically and hurried to finish his sandwich before he could be seen by the boss.

'Last chance'

Opposition leaders and parliamentary candidates came and left, their eyes puffy from sleepless nights of an intense post-election week.

It seemed almost as if it were the politicians who had to come here for encouragement.

This is our last chance to rid the country of Shevardnadze and to get a kind of future that we deserve Mikhail Saakashvili, opposition leader

"Just don't turn back now, just don't let us down," a woman pleaded to Nino Burjanadze, one of the opposition leaders and the speaker of Georgia's previous parliament who wandered through the crowd at 0500.

The opposition has already promised to go to the end. The end, which in the beginning meant cancellation of the election results in the districts where the election was alleged to be particularly corrupt, has now become the resignation of Mr Shevardnadze and his government.

"This is our last chance to rid the country of Shevardnadze and to get a kind of future that we deserve," said opposition leader Mikhail Saakashvili earlier.

Those who stayed the night on Rustaveli , and took these words seriously.

At first light, the crowd slowly began growing again, a group of men in front of the parliament clasped hands together and their voices joined in a high polyphony of an old Georgian song.

"If you aren't happy with the present, the future is yours," they sang. More then ever before, it sounded like they meant it.