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The Dispatch

Dispatch – April 7: Moveable Feast

History does repeat itself – first as tragedy, then as FARA. The introduction of foreign agent laws has become a kind of a moveable feast in Georgia, taking place every year in the same season but in different weeks. And just like with Easter, probably the most popular of the moveable feasts, this year’s foreign agents’ celebration seems to be special as it coincides with the Western version. Or so Georgian Dream claims.

When the law was first introduced in early 2023, many started packing their bags. There was little hope that anyone would take to the streets to “defend NGOs”. Yet in the weeks that followed, the bill became a “Russia vs. West” issue of primary national importance, and fierce mass protests got it killed. The party seemed more determined when it reintroduced the legislation the following year, in 2024. By then, however, the bill’s opponents had realized they loved their country too much to give up without a good fight. The legislative process was met with long, stubborn resistance, and when the law was still rammed through, the protesters simply hit the snooze button to re-ignite the protests after the elections. Despite the growing repression, Georgian Dream never enforced this particular law – possibly because its primary targets found too many ways not to be ruined by it.

Now it’s 2025, a third, stricter version of the Foreign Agents Act has just been adopted, and the dominant public reaction is “yeah, whatever.” We’ve been stabbed too many times at this point to feel any pain. So what’s the grand strategy? Just go back to whatever resistance routine you were doing, and enjoy the farce!


Here is Nini and the Dispatch Newsletter to tell how Georgia is handling yet another FARA farce.


“A paragraph cannot have a heading,” a fresh-faced Georgian Dream lawmaker told a similarly fresh-faced committee chair. It was mid-March, and the Foreign Agents Law Vol. 3 was going through its second plenary reading in Georgian Dream’s one-party parliament. “There is a heading in paragraph 5 of Article 4,” the lawmaker continued, citing Georgian laws on normative acts that wouldn’t tolerate this “technicality” that “remained” in the bill after it was (Google?)translated from the American Foreign Agents Registration Act (FARA). “It needs a technical correction,” the man insisted before looking down briefly with that sense of importance on his face that dogs have when they bring you that stick again.

Except that dogs are cute.

“I absolutely agree with you,” the neatly dressed committee head replied softly after being given the floor by the Speaker. The top button of the gray tweed waistcoat inside his black jacket was undone, and it was unclear whether that, too, was a “technicality” or a deliberate fashion choice. “Paragraph 5 of Article 4 should not have a heading,” he confirmed, “and when we remove that heading, I hope no one will conclude that we are not adopting the exact American law.”

The neatly dressed committee chair, whose name Georgians have unconsciously conspired not to memorize, must have been craving attention. His predecessor had just been appointed head of the State Security Service after a brief stint as justice minister, apparently earning his promotion by viciously cutting off the microphones of critics during last spring’s heated parliamentary hearings.

But the current committee chair has no one to silence. Opposition boycotts the parliament, and there is too much going on outside for FARA to be singled out. Gone are those glorious days when fistfights inside the parliament building were echoed by turmoil outside, and the lists with names of those who voted for the “Russian law” made the rounds. Even the usual long Facebook comments from the lawyers we’ve come to know and trust were somewhat delayed, lazy, and far less regular this time.

The exception was the scene above, which owes its rare spotlight to the fact that one or two lawyers still found time to tune in to the discussions—well, just in case someone tried to sneak in a death penalty as another “technicality.”

Attachment issues

The signing of the law also went smoothly. GD President Mikheil Kavelashvili put his signature on the bill on April 1 – just in case it wasn’t a big enough joke – the same day it passed its third reading. No vetoes, no unnecessary countdowns, no extra protest dates, just the cool ex-football player scribbling on a bunch of papers (does he have THE big marker? We don’t know). And he signed it along with a number of other repressive laws: unlike the good old days when all the fuss was about a single evil law, repression now comes in packages. If you’re a self-respecting individual brave enough to think and speak, there are at least two new laws these days telling you to shut up. Each contains a bunch of vague provisions waiting to be applied arbitrarily.

And this is where this new Georgian FARA stands out.

One thing worse than reading a repressive Georgian law – which is one thing worse than reading any other Georgian law – is reading a repressive Georgian law translated from a foreign language.
“You don’t understand what they’re asking you to do,” Vakhushti Menabde, a constitutional lawyer, said recently in one of those long lawyery FB posts. Menabde, who weeks ago co-founded the Movement for Social Democracy, a long-awaited Georgian progressive platform, cautioned others against consulting lawyers about the law’s application. This would make little sense in a current system where the rule of force has replaced the rule of law, the lawyer explained. “The language in which FARA was written doesn’t exist,” he asserted dryly.

Some would beg to differ. There is a language in which FARA was written, and it is American English. But the story of Georgian FARA is the story of an email sent without the attached file, and that attached file happens to contain decades of court and executive practice narrowing the application of a 1938 law. And God, that email doesn’t find us well: experts expect Georgian Dream to arbitrarily apply the 1938 document to use against the very groups that American practice has spared: independent media and NGOs.

Lost in translation

The law will come into effect in early June. Unlike previous versions, it will now also apply to individuals, and unlike the current law, the new one also provides for criminal liability, meaning that those who “violate” the law can face up to five years in prison, a fine, or a combination of both. There is also a deportation clause for foreigners.

Exactly how it will be enforced remains a mystery and subject to creative interpretation. Will they throw every NGO leader in jail, or will they decide that the agony of simply having to go through that document is punishment enough? So far, there are no signs that there is any clarity about this within the GD government. The fact that no one is bombarding critics with “hAVe YoU REaD tHE LaW?!” questions any longer might mean that the drafters (or translators) are still processing the monster they have created. Or simply that there’s no way to hide the monstrosity anymore.

And those on the other side who have dared to take a look have found nothing promising: the scary prospects range from having to label oneself as a foreign agent (“as they do in Russia”) in every public communication, to the absurd scenario of having to send two copies of every e-mail with more than two addressees to the Anti-Corruption Bureau. At least that’s what Article 4 – now gracefully free of “technicalities” – seems to suggest. And with all this uncertainty, the dominant strategy is to stick with the ongoing general resistance, now in its fifth month…

… or to troll the party back by offering an even more direct copy of FARA.

Read in Georgian, fara, or ფარა, means a flock of sheep. So when you hear someone referring to “Ivanishvili’s FARA,” that’s probably what they have in mind these days: a desperate herd of nameless men chasing down headlines just to enjoy the illusion of power.

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