A Parallel Universe Called Gori
Every town seems to want to celebrate the achievements of its native sons and daughters. But things can be dicey when yours was a renowned detector who is responsible for the crime against humanity and the death of millions of your countrymen. Is one supposed to erase one's name from memory or incriminate oneself for the making of an evil villain? For the Republic of Georgia, one historical figure looms large today: Joseph Stalin, the late leader of the USSR. To say modern Georgians have a difficult time with Stalin would be an understatement. On one hand, it must be exhilarating to see one of your own to be the most person in the world. On the other hand, Georgia suffers tremendously under the Soviet system, both politically and economically.
Today, Stalin is generally reviled in his native homeland due to the series of repressions the small Caucasus nation suffered when, under Stalin’s command, the Soviet Union invaded in 1921. The frosty relations with Moscow since the 2008 Russo-Georgian War certainly further complicated the attitude toward Stalin. For many Georgians of an older generation, the affinity to Stalin is not so much a devotion to the man but a nostalgia for the economic certainty of the Soviet time. To others, it is a strange form of Georgian nationalism. Stalin's political triumph in the Russian-dominated Soviet system is often considered a thumb in the eyes of Georgia's colonizers. He was strangely "revered" as a rebel who used his wit and determination to be the most powerful man in the world.
When planning our trip to Georgia, I know we must stop at Stalin's hometown, Gori. Located midway between Tbilisi and Georgia's second city of Kutaisi, Gori is a perfect stop to witness one of the most fraught places in Georgia. Although Gori is also known for a picturesque hilltop fortress and several religious sites, Stalin and his legacy seem to hold the town together in collective identity and economic likelihood. Despite Stalin's silence about his Georgian roots, particularly his childhood, Gori is eager to claim him as their hometown hero. Stalin's legacy has singlehandedly put Gori on the map.
As we approached Gori from our morning visit to the medieval cave city of Uplistsikhe, we were quite amused by a sign called "Stalin Avenue.” As we made a left turn on the broad and proper Stalin Avenue, we couldn't help being a little giddy about how bizarre and special this place is. This is perhaps the last major town that 'escaped' the de-Stalinization under Nikita Khrushchev. Georgia's "Stalin complex" runs deep even after the dissolution of the Soviet Union. This is particularly the case in Gori. A colossal statue of Joseph Stalin used to dominate the front of the town at the central square until 2010 when the Saakashvili administration outlawed all Soviet symbols in the country. The removal of the Stalin statue took place in secret in the depths of night with heavy police protection. Despite all the efforts, removing the statue proved to be scandalous for the people of Gori.
Past the town hall, the infamous Joseph Stalin Museum was just at the end of the Stalin Boulevard. The Stalinist-Gothic building sat in front of a promenade of a public park adorned with fountains and flower beds. The juxtaposition between Stalin's "gory" past and the smiling children at an ice cream stand was full of irony. To illustrate the very fraught existence of this tribute to their favorite son, the police presence there seemed to care more about the life-size statue of Stalin across from the museum than the safety of the general public.
At the front of the museum is Stalin's "enshrined" boyhood home, literally encased with a grand pavilion adorned with symbols of red stars, hammers, and sickles. Born to a family of a struggling shoemaker, Stalin, born Josef Besarionis dze Jughashvili, grew up in poverty and had to move from house to house. This small brick hut, which the Jughashvili family shared with the landlord in the first four years of his life, may have been the most "stable" environment he ever experienced in his childhood. One must be amazed by this man's meteoric rise and wonder what young Stalin's mind might have been like when he stood on this very porch. It is perhaps the only sobering moment during our visit as we attempted to find some level of humanity in this complex and enigmatic mass murderer. Part of me wondered whether it was even appropriate to take a photo of me posing in front of this little hut. Perhaps a sobering expression is appropriate, wouldn't you say?
Behind Stalin's boyhood home is the main museum. Constructed in 1957 under the auspice of the Georgian Communist Party and the Gori Party Committee, it was originally envisioned to highlight the glory of Communism but quickly devolved into a personal shrine to their hometown boy. Today, the museum holds an impressive 60,000-piece collection of Stalin memorabilia. The main structure is a handsome Soviet Italianate building. Once stepping inside the lobby, we were immediately transported back in time. Every part of the museum experience was Soviet in nature, from the indifferent lady before the ticket box to the sterile marble-lined corridors. As you enter the lobby, a grand (but shabby) marble staircase leads you up to a larger-than-life statue of comrade Stalin.
The museum is laid out roughly chronologically but often appears amateurishly curated. Rather than a stately political tribute like those for Ho Chi Minh or Chairman Mao, the Stalin Museum appears like a fan club. Newspaper clippings and various personal items litter the spacious marble halls. Most of the exhibit is dedicated to the personality cult of Stalin. Unfortunately, this being the third stop of a five-stop travel day, we did not budget much time for Gori and the museum.
But one thing is clear: the museum made no mention of what Stalin is known for outside of the Soviet Union: the Gulags and the disastrous outcome of the Soviet planned economy. Instead, Stalin is portrayed as a wise and affable leader who preserved Western civilization from the wrath of Nazism. With Russian speakers making up the majority of visitors to the museum, the section dedicated to the Soviet victory during World War II seemed to attract the most interest.
There is little doubt about Stalin's military success against Germany. Pivotal victories such as the Battle of Stalingrad elevated him to secular sainthood within the Soviet Union. The most solemn space in the museum is a white colonnade hall that was purposefully built to display one of the only two copies of Stalin's death masks. Despite being a rather small space and the humming floor fans, the memorial hall was silently eerie and reflective. Aside from the death mask, at the corner was an architectural model of the Lenin Mausoleum in Moscow's Red Square. It reminds visitors that Joseph Stalin's embalmed body was once laid alongside that of Vladamir Lenin until his eventual burial at the nearby Kremlin Wall Necropolis during the period of de-Stalinization.
My favorite section of the exhibit was the very last hall, where personal gifts to comrade Stalin were displayed. There are the usual suspects, like the congratulatory birthday gifts from fellow communist leaders like Chairman Mao. But items from Western leaders are of particular interest to us. A declaration of valor from American President Franklin D. Roosevelt for the Soviet's defense of Stalingrad was particularly interesting to us Americans. Of course, it is ironic that Roosevelt commended the Soviet Union for resisting foreign transgressions. However, it is often too easy to forget that without the sacrifice of the Soviet Union, World War Two might have turned out very differently.
You might wonder whether a visit and the admission fees to the Stalin Museum are indeed ethical. A shrine dedicated to one of the most devious individuals in the 20th century may not sound like a blacklist for most people. But I believe Gori and the Stalin Museum are not a living tribute to Stalinism. If anything, they expose the fissures in contemporary Georgian society. Like any post-Soviet state, they must confront the legacy of the difficult 20th century. Georgia had a more complex history to reconcile with than many of its peers. Actor Hugh Bonneville best summarizes this ambiguity and contradiction in an episode of BBC’s program Dangerous Roads:
For me, traveling is about understanding the reality of a place, no matter how unsavory or difficult it may be. Gori is one of those places. There have been long-simmering discussions in Gori that the local government might even re-erect the Stalin statue at the central square despite the legal ban. The final chapter of Gori is never set in stone. Stalin Museum may not exist forever, but he would always cast a long shadow over his hometown.