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Special Report 167 July 2006

United States Institute of Peace

Special Report

The views expressed in this report do not necessarily 

reflect the views of the United States Institute of Peace, 

which does not advocate specific policy positions.

Contents 

Introduction 2

Terminology: Coup, “Revolution,” or Revolution? 2

Shevardnadze’s Civil Society 3

Driving Forces of the Revolution 4

Kmara: Breaking through Political Apathy 5

Opposition Groups 8

The Media 9

Civil Society and International Actors 10

Should the Security Forces Defend the Regime 

or the People? 10

Conclusion 11

About the Report

Georgia’s Rose Revolution of 2003, the first bloodless change 

of power in the Caucasus, occurred largely unpredicted 

by analysts and policymakers. Both Georgian and western 

observers feared and predicted yet another wave of bloodshed 

in this troubled former Soviet nation. Yet the enthusiasm, 

hard work, and nonviolent discipline of initially small groups 

sparked what many now call “Europe’s fourth wave of 

liberation.” “I did not think to pay serious attention to these 

young people running around with flags and drawing graffiti 

on the streets,” deposed President Eduard Shevardnadze said 

shortly after the revolution. “I was wrong,” he added.

Author Giorgi Kandelaki was elected in 2001 to Tbilisi State 

University’s first student self-government, which pursued a 

high-profile campaign against corruption and for reform in 

higher education. In April 2003 he co-founded the youth 

movement, Kmara (Enough), which played an instrumental role 

in Georgia’s November 2003 Rose Revolution. More recently he 

has trained young activists to organize for nonviolent change 

in Kazakhstan, Ukraine, Moldova, and, most recently, Belarus, 

where he and a colleague were detained for eleven days. Since 

June 2005 he has been an adviser in the administration of 

President Mikheil Saakashvili of Georgia.

Giorgi Kandelaki 

Georgia’s Rose 

Revolution

A Participant’s Perspective

Summary

• Efforts to resist calling the 2003 events in Georgia a “revolution” were misplaced. 

Although the turmoil was marked by a lack of violence, a critical mass of people did 

come out to move the country away from the rampant corruption of the Shevardnadze 

regimes of 1972 to 1985 (when he was Communist Party first secretary) and 1992 to 

2003 (when he was president).

•	 As president, Shevardnadze supported independent civil society groups and media 

outlets such as the television station Rustavi-2. His support of these groups ended 

in 2001, when he tried to shut down Rustavi-2. This action prompted reform-minded 

members of his government to form opposition parties.

•	 Before the 2003 parliamentary elections, opposition groups hoped only to gain 

momentum for the 2005 presidential elections. However, blatant electoral fraud, 

Shevardnadze’s refusal to compromise, and the discipline of nonviolent opposition 

groups precipitated his exit.

•	 The youth group Kmara (Enough) played an important role in combating widespread 

political apathy among the Georgian public and youth in particular. The successful 

mobilization of so many young people continues to reverberate as former Kmara 

members maintain their interest in politics.

•	 Saakashvili’s National Movement party believed that its success depended on radicalizing the political sphere and thereby broadening political participation. It was particularly effective at increasing political participation among provincial populations.

•	 Georgia’s independent media, particularly Rustavi-2, supported the Rose Revolution 

by providing a forum for opposition parties and nongovernmental organizations 

(NGOs) critical of the government. The channel also co-funded and broadcast exit 

polls that contradicted the official election results.
•	 Although a few civil society organizations did play significant roles in the revolution, 

most were constrained by foreign funding priorities and their own elitism. Similarly, 

foreign actors played a limited role because they lacked information or were overly 

cautious about fostering significant political change.

•	 There was no violence because the various security forces chose not to respond to 

public demonstrations with force. Three main factors drove their decision: 1) The security forces were accustomed to responding to democratic pressures and not defending 

autocratic rule; 2) a divided ruling party could not speak with one voice; 3) opposition 

groups, including Kmara, made strong efforts to build sympathy for their cause while 

downplaying the threat posed by political change.

•	 International actors can best support democratic transitions by targeting assistance 

to nationwide election watchdogs, such as the International Society for Fair Elections 

and Democracy (ISFED), that can carry out parallel vote tabulations (PVT). Ideally, 

large numbers of observers from similar organizations outside Georgia should be 

deployed, since they can be more outspoken about electoral fraud.

Introduction 

When asked why the Rose Revolution took place in Georgia, many westerners point out 

that Georgians were fed up with their gloomy economic prospects and the government’s 

rampant corruption. It is true that corruption, sharp economic decline, and, of course, 

blatant election rigging all fed the popular frustration that fueled the revolution, but these 

and other injustices can be found in many other countries where no democratic revolutions have occurred. Why of all countries, including the states of the former Soviet Union, 

did such a breakthrough happen first in Georgia? What made this country special? What 

factors and actors were involved? Finally, to what extent did western assistance make the 

revolution possible?

This report examines the specifics of the political and social landscape in Georgia 

before the revolution, dynamics of the protests sparked by rigged elections, and the actors 

who contributed to laying the groundwork for change and supporting the revolution itself. 

A clear picture of the Rose Revolution helps explain the most intriguing aspect of the 

events: that neither protesters nor the government used force despite the orders given. As 

an active member of Kmara, I consider all these questions and issues from a participant’s 

perspective, providing insights not readily available from most outside observers. 

Terminology: Coup, “Revolution,” or Revolution?

In the immediate aftermath of the Rose Revolution, many analysts and political 

scientists preferred to call it a “coup.” Thus they suggested that what happened on 

November 22–23, 2003, was no more than a group of people ousting the incumbent government. Many other authors did use the word “revolution” inside quotation marks, as if to 

distance themselves from such a dramatic idea. A consensus on terminology emerged only 

after events in Ukraine a year later, amid growing enthusiasm for the future of democracy 

in the former Soviet Union.

During the twentieth century, supporters of democracy came to distrust revolutions, 

not least because they invariably were linked to violence. Supporters of democratization 

preferred to describe transformation of a political regime as “transition.” As a result, an 

entire academic discipline of “transitology” developed, inspired by democratic consolidations in Latin America and southern Europe. A new debate ensued over whether the 

paradigm of democratic transitions could be extended to the regime transformations taking place in Eastern Europe. In the end, the word transition prevailed, although in most 

About the Institute

The United States Institute of Peace is an independent, nonpartisan federal institution created 

by Congress to promote the prevention, management, and peaceful resolution of international 

conflicts. Established in 1984, the Institute meets 

its congressional mandate through an array of 

programs, including research grants, fellowships, 

professional training, education programs from high 

school through graduate school, conferences and 

workshops, library services, and publications. The 

Institute’s Board of Directors is appointed by the 

President of the United States and confirmed 

by the Senate.

Board of Directors

J. Robinson West (Chair), Chairman, PFC Energy, Washington, D.C. • María Otero (Vice Chair), President, ACCION 

International, Boston, Mass. • Betty F. Bumpers, Founder 

and former President, Peace Links, Washington, D.C. • 

Holly J. Burkhalter, Director of U.S. Policy, Physicians 

for Human Rights, Washington, D.C. • Chester A. 

Crocker, James R. Schlesinger Professor of Strategic 

Studies, School of Foreign Service, Georgetown University • 

Laurie S. Fulton, Partner, Williams and Connolly, 

Washington, D.C. • Charles Horner, Senior Fellow, Hudson 

Institute, Washington, D.C. • Seymour Martin Lipset, 

Hazel Professor of Public Policy, George Mason University • 

Mora L. McLean, President, Africa-America Institute, 

New York, N.Y. • Barbara W. Snelling, former State 

Senator and former Lieutenant Governor, Shelburne, Vt.

Members ex officio

Michael M. Dunn, Lieutenant General, U.S. Air

 Force; President, National Defense University • Barry F. 

Lowenkron, Assistant Secretary of State for Democracy, 

Human Rights, and Labor • Peter W. Rodman, Assistant 

Secretary of Defense for International Security Affairs • 

Richard H. Solomon, President, United States

Institute of Peace (nonvoting)
Eastern European countries the changes did include the definitive defeat of one side and 

the involvement of the masses. 

If we do not consider violence a necessary attribute of a revolution, the November 

2003 events in Georgia clearly qualify as a genuine revolution, since they involved both a 

sudden change of power and mass mobilization. One paradoxical feature of both the Rose 

Revolution and the Orange Revolution in Ukraine is that they did not seek to challenge 

the existing political regime as defined by the national constitution. Instead, Georgian 

political scientist Ghia Nodia describes the Georgian revolution as a revolt in defense of 

the constitution.

In more general terms, the Rose Revolution was a revolt against corruption and kleptocratic government. Rampant corruption in all spheres of life had forced increasing numbers of Georgians to engage in corrupt practices. This was one of the main criticisms of 

Shevardnadze’s opponents, and it drove people out into the square in November 2003.

Shevardnadze’s Civil Society: From Benefactor to Albatross

Many writers and scholars had competing interpretations of the kind of regime we had 

in Georgia. Shevardnadze’s regime most probably could be placed somewhere between 

authoritarian and “post-totalitarian.” Economic pluralism in Georgia was certainly greater 

than in a classic autocratic regime, while the political leadership was oligarchic. In his 

2005 book, Ghia Nodia defines Shevardnadze’s regime as “liberal autocracy” or “liberal 

oligarchy.” Nevertheless, the regime was also characterized by many freedoms (for the 

media, political parties, and some associations) that were barred in most post-Soviet 

states.

At first Shevardnadze had good reason to support and foster such freedoms. On returning to Georgia from exile in 1992, he needed support for his struggle with paramilitary 

“warlords.” Independent media and other organizations were permitted to function to 

create political space and pressure the warlords. After this objective was fulfilled in 1995, 

Shevardnadze aspired to cultivate his democratic image abroad. Before 1998, Shevardnadze’s regime consolidated an unjustified reputation among many western observers and 

governments as a success story of post-Soviet democratization.

Shevardnadze’s regime governed according to the widely respected 1995 constitution. 

The government recognized the need for elections, and the opposition had some success 

in local elections, but real power remained within a small network of political elites. 

Shevardnadze believed he could always win elections or rig the outcome if necessary to 

ensure victory. International criticism would come but would be forgotten within a few 

months. After 2001, he increasingly entertained the idea of “managed democracy,” which 

already had become one of the main features of Russian politics.

Allowing certain liberal freedoms was more of a political calculation than a commitment to an open society. Nevertheless, it led to the development of a civil society that 

did not accept the rules and practices of the ruling oligarchy at face value. But Shevardnadze and his allies thought he could constantly claim credit for allowing more political 

freedom (as opposed to many other post-Soviet states) while containing challengers from 

civil society. 

In time not only did these assumptions prove wrong, but the system itself started to 

erode. Favoritism, nepotism (especially benefiting Shevardnadze’s own family), and the 

spoils system became entrenched in virtually every sphere of Georgia’s social and political life. Rampant corruption shrank the tax base, and budgetary shortfalls destroyed the 

state’s ability to carry out some basic functions, such as paying pensions and salaries to 

civil servants. Since their salaries were no longer paid, public servants were expected to 

earn their living through bribery and had to share the illegal income with their superiors. 

Budget shortfalls also made it increasingly difficult to satisfy the various interest groups 

around the president. Eventually, escalating systemic corruption put elements of the 

The November 2003 events in 

Georgia clearly qualify as a 

genuine revolution, since they 

involved both a sudden change 

of power and mass mobilization.

Allowing certain liberal freedoms was 

more of a political calculation than a 

commitment to an open society.

Since their salaries were no longer 

paid, public servants were expected 

to earn their living through bribery 

and had to share the illegal income 

with their superiors. 
so-called “blackmail state” into place. That is, the executive collects compromising 

information about individuals’ illegal activities to ensure the loyalty of elite groups, 

individuals, and businesses. When it no longer needs them, it files corruption charges 

against them.

It was becoming impossible for Shevardnadze to maintain his image as a democratic 

reformer, and in 2001 he decided to drop it altogether. When the government tried to shut 

down Rustavi-2 that year, many reformers left Shevardnadze’s Citizens Union of Georgia 

party and formed opposition parties. Furthermore, the government’s inability to confront 

corruption prompted suspension of International Monetary Fund programs in Georgia in 

2003. 

Although Shevardnadze rightly claimed credit for the development of civil society in 

Georgia, parts of this sector deserve a large share of the credit for unseating him. From 

his own perspective, allowing such freedoms was a mistake, as he stated in numerous 

interviews after the revolution, when he regretted not having made sure that all appropriate mechanisms for “managing democracy” were put in place before the elections. 

Driving Forces of the Revolution

The mass protests that eventually led to President Shevardnadze’s resignation continued 

for twenty days, from November 3 to November 23, 2003. Early reports on the official 

election results placed Shevardnadze’s For a New Georgia bloc first, followed by Saakashvili’s National Movement, the Labor Party, United Democrats, Revival Union, and the New 

Rights Party. These results sharply contradicted exit polls conducted by Rustavi-2 and a 

PVT by ISFED. Starting November 3, a relatively small number of demonstrators gathered 

at Freedom Square in central Tbilisi every evening. As long as the numbers of protesters 

remained small, the government chose to ignore their demands. Even after the National 

Movement and United Democrats merged, the government took no action.

In just two days, the picture changed dramatically when election results from the 

autonomous region of Adjara propelled the regional Revival Union party into second 

place. Both Saakashvili’s and Burjanadze’s parties demanded that the results be voided, 

citing the sharp differences between official and unofficial vote counts. Suspicions 

were particularly high about the Adjara results, because the long-acrimonious relations 

between Adjara’s pro-Russian strongman, Aslan Abashidze, and Shevardnadze had thawed 

in the months before the elections. This led some to speculate that the two had reached a 

deal to trade support for votes. These suspicions increased with the announcement of the 

impressive results of Abashidze’s Revival Union. Opposition parties claimed the Revival 

party had received more votes than the region’s population.

Believing that Shevardnadze would validate these results despite sharp criticism, his 

opponents radicalized their demands and began to use the word revolution. On November 9, when the election commission stopped counting votes because of ongoing court 

challenges, 2,616 out of 2,870 precincts were counted. For a New Georgia led with 20.9 

percent, closely followed by Revival and National Movement, with Labor, BurjanadzeDemocrats, and New Rights trailing. 

The same day, opposition leaders Mikheil Saakashvili, Nino Burjanadze, and Zurab 

Zhvania met with Shevardnadze. Their brief talks produced no tangible results, and the 

president commented pointedly: “I do not intend to resign at the demand of individual 

politicians and a few dozen young people waving flags. If there were at least a million 

people, it would have been different.” Within just a few days, national petitions contained 1 million signatures demanding Shevardnadze’s resignation and calling for the 

election results to be overturned. 

Protesters in front of the parliament building maintained their positions in shifts 

throughout the day and night. Promising to “paralyze Shevardnadze’s government,”

Saakashvili soon called for civil disobedience. The process started slowly, but the 

The mass protests that eventually led 

to President Shevardnadze’s resignation continued for twenty days, from 

November 3 to November 23, 2003.

Shevardnadze opponents radicalized 

their demands and began to use 

the word revolution.
opposition managed to gain public attention through a few successful incidents of 

civil disobedience in state institutions, such as schools, throughout the country. 

Groups of well-known artists, writers, and poets started campaigning in various public 

establishments—primarily universities—urging people to join the protest. These efforts 

bore fruit as disobedience committees began popping up in universities throughout the 

country, aided by Kmara activists who often were students themselves. 

On November 17 more than 50,000 gathered at Freedom Square in central Tbilisi, and 

3,000 held hands to form a human chain around the state chancellery. Many in the crowd 

wanted to push forward and try to go in, but the apparent readiness of special forces 

units to use force, as well as the absence of a “critical mass,” forced the leaders to call 

off the rally and go to the regions to mobilize more supporters. Rallies were suspended 

for the next two days, allowing Saakashvili and other opposition leaders to gather as 

many followers as possible throughout the country. Meanwhile government employees 

from Adjara took over the space in front of the parliament to express support for the 

fraudulent results. These protests were not taken very seriously, since many of the participants attended only because they had been threatened with job termination and other 

sanctions should they refuse to go. 

On the evening of November 20, a convoy of cars stretching for kilometers and carrying thousands of people arrived from western Georgia. The next day more than 100,000 

gathered in Freedom Square to pressure all the opposition parties with more than 7 percent of the votes not to enter parliament. This effort was not successful, and protesters 

had to consider other ways to disrupt the illegitimate parliament’s first session. During 

the afternoon, protesters moved toward the chancellery, towing buses with heavy trucks 

to block the way and facing riot troops along the route. Overwhelmed by the number of 

people, troops stood by and took no action as the protesters passed them. 

Troops also stood at the rear entrance of parliament, while the front was occupied 

by Revival Union supporters unaware of what was happening in back. Demonstrators 

began entering parliament from the rear in the middle of Shevardnadze’s speech. His 

guards promptly removed him from the podium and evacuated him. After escaping to his 

Krtsanisi residence, Shevardnadze announced a state of emergency in Georgia and ordered 

the use of force to stop the protests. But the loyalty of the troops went increasingly to 

Nino Burjanadze, who had declared herself acting president. The order for violent repression was never carried out. Bereft of all other options, Eduard Shevardnadze resigned the 

evening of November 23. 

Opposition groups, including Kmara, did not anticipate a 2003 election victory that 

would result in Shevardnadze stepping down. When they started their activities, they 

hoped only to influence the presidential elections of 2005, when Shevardnadze’s term 

would legally expire. However, a number of factors accelerated Shevardnadze’s exit: 

blatant electoral fraud, especially in the results from Adjara; the government’s stubborn 

refusal to consider even minor compromises; and opposition groups’ discipline and organization, which included their ability to project nonviolent power. 

Three actors played a crucial role in making the Rose Revolution possible: the youth 

movement Kmara; the opposition parties, especially Mikheil Saakashvili’s National Movement; and Rustavi-2, the most prominent independent-media outlet. Each played a distinctive role in making the Rose Revolution successful and nonviolent. 

Kmara: Breaking through Political Apathy

A new phenomenon in the post-Soviet world, Kmara succeeded in breaking through 

the public’s political apathy, particularly among young people. It emerged as a nonpartisan force with a horizontal organizational structure. Nonviolence, discipline, coordination, 

promoting its brand, and making skillful use of humor all were key to Kmara’s success. 

More than 100,000 gathered 

in Freedom Square to pressure 

all the opposition parties with 

more than 7 percent of the 

votes not to enter parliament. 

Kmara succeeded in breaking through 

the public’s political apathy, particularly 

among young people.
Kmara’s origins go back to 2000, when a group of reform-minded students established 

student self-government at Tbilisi State University, Georgia’s largest. The group campaigned primarily against corruption in higher education and called for radical reforms 

of the sector, which had experienced a dramatic decline in quality since Shevardnadze’s 

return to Georgia. By the early 2000s, only 4 percent of state university graduates could 

find employment in Georgia’s labor market. Universities remained one of the leastreformed institutions, where, unlike in the rest of the society, free speech was suppressed. 

The Georgian higher education system produced graduates who were unlikely to find 

professional employment and whose integrity was challenged even before they entered 

their alma mater: The vast majority of applicants were forced to pay bribes just to pass 

admission exams. 

Nearly 2,000 students formed the first elected student body in the country in 2000. 

The group carried out a number of well-publicized and successful campaigns. Nevertheless, 

it became increasingly evident that no reform would be possible in the higher education 

system without a change of government. The reality was that faculty members were not 

only expected to be corrupt but actually rewarded by their superiors for corruption; in one 

notorious case, the person named in a survey as the most corrupt faculty member was 

publicly promoted and praised the next day. The fundamental principles of the education 

system had to be altered. 

The second group that formed Kmara emerged at student protests following Shevardnadze’s attempt to shut down Rustavi-2 in October 2001. This group called itself the 

Student Movement for Georgia. The two organizations remained in close contact following 

their successful defense of Rustavi-2 and formed Kmara in early 2003. 

The leading Georgian civil rights NGO, the Liberty Institute, played a pivotal role during 

Kmara’s foundation. It made technical and logistical resources available to Kmara activists 

throughout the campaign and assisted with regional outreach, training, and coordination 

of Kmara’s actions with the political opposition. The Georgian Young Lawyers’ Association 

provided legal services to Kmara activists in case of arrest.

From the outset Kmara avoided hierarchy, meaning it had no readily identifiable leaders; by default, all activists were considered equal. No single person or group could significantly impair the movement by being arrested. Although repression in Georgia never 

evolved into mass arrests, in Adjara this aspect of the horizontal structure proved highly 

effective. Many of the activists did not even know one another. Consequently, when arrests 

took place in Adjara, Kmara continued working. Kmara’s Adjara branch played an important role in driving out the region’s brutal strongman, Aslan Abashidze, whose regime 

resembled that of Milosevic or Lukashenko, the president of Belarus. 

Second, the group’s horizontal structure encouraged a greater feeling of ownership and 

participation among the activists than would have been possible within a hierarchy. This 

allowed more participants greater leeway for action. Each could find his or her right “fit” 

in the movement. Nevertheless, Kmara did possess a division of labor. Activists mainly 

chose what group to work in, but a number of functions were the responsibility of all the 

activists. Members of different groups also took specific, narrowly focused training.

Tactical planning occurred weekly, mainly during brainstorming sessions. Once the idea 

and details for an action were approved during a discussion, activists would compile a 

detailed budget for the action. Although discussions were heated and wide-ranging, once 

they made a decision, Kmara members tried to sustain consensus in its execution. “Democracy in planning, but dictatorship in execution,” one of Kmara’s main principles stated.

The horizontal structure and tactical planning methods caused decision making to be 

a bit more protracted and made tactical disagreements more likely. Still, labor distribution 

and increased motivation permitted by the horizontal structure and participatory decision 

making kept such disputes and delays to a minimum. 

Kmara’s first public action took place April 14, 2003, when more than 500 young 

people marched from Tbilisi State University to the state chancellery. They chose that

The leading Georgian civil rights 

NGO, the Liberty Institute, 

played a pivotal role during 

Kmara’s foundation.

Although discussions were heated 

and wide-ranging, once they made 

a decision, Kmara members tried to 

sustain consensus in its execution. 
day to coincide with the anniversary of 1978 student demonstrations, when thenGeorgian Communist Party Secretary Shevardnadze had sided with courageous young 

people protesting the planned abolition of the Georgian language’s favored status. In 

2003 the student protesters carried flags from Georgia’s days as a USSR republic. Bearing 

the faces of Shevardnadze and leaders of his newly formed For a New Georgia election 

bloc, they emphasized the current regime’s connection with the country’s Soviet past. The 

protesters condemned the government’s alleged intention to rig the November 2 parliamentary elections. 

From that day, Shevardnadze’s government pursued three strategies against Kmara and 

other opposition groups: trying to discredit the movement, ignoring it, and repressing 

it, particularly in outlying regions. In an effort to discredit Kmara, at an April 21 press 

conference Irina Sarishvili-Chanturia, the leader of the National Democratic Party and 

spokesperson for Shevardnadze’s For a New Georgia bloc, announced, “Russian special 

services are planning a large-scale and well-tried operation under the secret name Kmara.” 

The government also accused Kmara of being the youth branch of Saakashvili’s National 

Movement, or claimed each Kmara member was receiving $500 per month in exchange for 

participation. The interior minister first made this claim, and Georgia’s special services, 

skilled at disseminating rumors since Soviet times, also spread it. Even my mother, a nurse, 

was almost convinced by her colleagues that I was paid for my activism. 

Outraged by Kmara graffiti on the front of the Palace of Youth, where the Socialist Party 

congress was to take place, the party chair and one of Shevardnadze’s new allies accused 

Kmara of being part of an Armenian conspiracy. Reflecting the effort to ignore and downplay Kmara’s significance, Shevardnadze told journalists he had seen Kmara graffiti on his 

way to work. Stopping his limousine to check whether anyone was paying attention to the 

graffiti, “I really saw that nobody was reading them,” he said, thus showing that Kmara 

was effective. Except in Adjara, where the scale of repression was much greater, police 

preferred only to beat or scare activists. On only two occasions were activists (including 

me) arrested.

During its initial stage, Kmara resorted to bluffing or using activism methods and 

marketing techniques that created a “myth” of the organization and portrayed it as 

much more powerful than it actually was. One trivial but striking example was the graffiti campaign. Some twenty Kmara founders armed with brushes and paint split into 

subgroups of three to four and wrote “Kmara” tens of thousands of times on Tbilisi roads 

and streets. The next day the graffiti were the top news story, with journalists stressing 

that the biggest “Kmara” was in front of the National Democratic Party office in Tbilisi. 

Authorities rushed to mobilize firefighting vehicles to wash the graffiti off the streets but 

soon changed their minds when they realized the irony of the scene. During the following 

weeks, Kmara graffiti appeared in nine of Georgia’s main cities, propelling the story to the 

top of the national news. 

Because the number of Kmara activists was limited at first, cooperation with the opposition parties was very close. Helped by NGOs and other private contacts in the National 

Movement and United Democrats, the two parties’ youth branches made hundreds of activists secretly available for a limited number of Kmara rallies, particularly the first one on 

April 14. Hundreds of students marching under slogans of a “mysterious” organization never 

seen before only added to the “myth” of Kmara as an unknown but very powerful force. 

Another method to increase Kmara’s perceived strength was to organize and coordinate 

simultaneous actions in different locations. The first nationwide action was held May 12, 

when Kmara activists passed out leaflets identifying constitutional prohibitions on torture 

and illegal detention and picketed police stations well known for abuse and misconduct. 

Rallying Kmara activists in Tbilisi and nine other cities were joined by human rights NGO 

representatives. Kmara quickly evolved into a legitimate and formidable presence in Georgian politics, achieving brand recognition at a very early stage. 

Opinions vary on Kmara’s importance in the revolution. To some, its exact role remains 

an unanswered question. Indeed, it was not a dominant actor, and its numbers reached 

Kmara graffiti appeared in 

nine of Georgia’s main cities, 

propelling the story to the top 

of the national news. 

Kmara quickly evolved into a 

legitimate and formidable presence 

in Georgian politics, achieving brand 

recognition at a very early stage.

The government tried to discredit 

the movement, ignore it, and 

repress it. 
only 3,000 at the movement’s peak. Nevertheless, Kmara was vital during the Rose Revolution in combating political apathy and encouraging political activism and participation. 

In terms of politics and political culture, Georgia was a typical post-Soviet society, 

where the public attitude toward any kind of political participation was likely to be nihilistic and distrustful. According to popular belief, since all elections were unfair, achieving 

a change of government peacefully through elections would be impossible. Such attitudes 

were particularly widespread among young people. The popular perception was that joining or working for a party during a campaign resulted from economic interest, with the 

expectation of specific material gains after a successful campaign. Such an attitude was 

not unrealistic: Many did join parties with such motivations and some achieved their goals. 

Under such conditions, political parties alone were incapable of overcoming apathy and 

mobilizing the public. Making matters worse, the youth branches of many parties were 

relatively weak, bureaucratic, and cliquish. 

Kmara took direct action to overcome this apathy. In the midst of the protests, a 

group of well-known and mostly young artists, poets, and musicians started campaigning 

throughout the country, mainly in different universities, calling on students to join the 

protests. With approval from Artcom, an artistic committee, civil disobedience groups 

started popping up at various universities. Kmara activists played important roles in most 

of these, since they already possessed valuable experience in organizational structure 

and discipline. The committees were important for mobilizing apolitical youth. Through 

focused work in the disobedience groups, more than 10,000 previously inactive university 

students were mobilized. 

As Kmara sought to overcome apathy among the young, the movement sought to fight 

political apathy among all Georgian voters. Essential to accomplishing this objective was 

the use of humor in various actions and activities. In any repressed society, apathy can be 

broken when people are caught unaware by appeals for their participation. For many this 

meant viewing Kmara’s humorous messages making fun of the regime or learning about 

and benefiting from Kmara’s “positive” actions, such as rock concerts, book collections for 

schools, and rubbish collection. These kinds of activities produced some tiny feeling of 

participation among ordinary citizens who might never have voted before. 

For example, Kmara activists put large banners on display in streets where passersby 

could take pictures of themselves flushing Shevardnadze and his government down a toilet. At another event, Kmara staged a mock funeral complete with flowers to disrupt For a 

New Georgia’s presentation of its economic program in the state chancellery garden. During this action seven young Kmara members were arrested and charged with hooliganism 

simply for trying to inject some humor into political protest. 

In the end, all these mechanisms and incentives produced a group of young people 

with extremely high motivation, courage, and knowledge of “quality activism,” capable of 

carrying their pleas for more political involvement to all parts of Georgian society. 

Opposition Groups: Increased Visibility through Bold Confrontation

Mikheil Saakashvili first became popular for his anticorruption rhetoric as a parliament 

member in Shevardnadze’s government. After leaving to form the National Movement 

party, he began effectively reaching out to regional segments previously blocked from 

national politics. Also, by stepping into previously politically “safe” areas, he succeeded in 

radicalizing political discourse and positioning himself as the most radical fighter against 

the regime, uncompromising in the face of its corruption.

Saakashvili’s main strategy could be summarized as radicalizing the political situation 

and expanding the political space. He realized that even with fair elections—a development no one expected—several rounds would be needed for the National Movement and 

other opposition parties to build their electoral and organizational strength. It would be 

difficult to sustain a disciplined political force throughout this long period, so he would 



Passersby could take pictures of themselves flushing Shevardnadze and his 

government down a toilet.

Political parties alone were incapable 

of overcoming apathy and mobilizing 

the public.
have to show concrete results to his supporters with an electoral breakthrough. At the 

same time, it was clear that in the existing political space, any breakthrough was impossible. New and more motivated elements had to get involved in the struggle. The 2001 

rallies showed that the urban masses alone were insufficient for such a breakthrough, and 

a search for supporters beyond those groups was necessary. Mobilization targets included 

members of the lower middle class, provincial populations, and middle-aged Georgians.

One of the National Movement’s most important achievements was effectively reaching 

out to provincial populations. In contemporary Georgian history, the provinces had played 

a significant political role when they supported nationalist president Zviad Gamsakhurdia 

before and during the civil war of 1991–93. Any participation in post-Gamsakhurdia politics for this group had been blocked, and Saakashvili made a significant effort to bring 

this highly frustrated segment of the public back into the political arena. 

As Saakashvili radicalized the political space and opened it to more alienated groups, 

he also bolstered his reputation as a brave fighter against the regime. He suggested that 

the reason for his split from Shevardnadze was that his strong anticorruption rhetoric was 

unacceptable to the government he had left. 

The courage of his National Movement in the “politically protected areas” was instrumental in its swift rise in approval ratings and eventual victory in the elections. The rallies 

brought out people who had been too overcome by fear and apathy to participate in politics. In Batumi, for example, more than 1,000 locals (a good number for that city), who 

never before would have dared express their views openly, joined 500 people from other 

cities at the rally. Kmara made available more than 100 activists for this demonstration.

These rallies showed the opposition’s, and especially the National Movement’s, success 

at broadening political participation by energetically and courageously confronting the 

Shevardnadze regime. As a result, more Georgians took an active role in voting and then 

defending their vote as the electoral fraud became apparent.

The Media: From Shevardnadze Ally to Electoral Whistleblower

Independent media outlets were essential in exposing the electoral fraud, and of these 

outlets Rustavi-2 was the most prominent. When Shevardnadze tried to shut down 

Rustavi-2 in 2001, the move triggered mass protests, mainly by students. Despite this 

setback, imposition of direct control over Rustavi-2, either by shutting it down or buying 

it out, remained in Shevardnadze’s plans. A rival station, Imedi TV, allied with him.

During the 2003 electoral campaign Rustavi-2 provided an important forum for 

NGOs critical of the government. With the British Council, the Open Society-Georgia 

Foundation, and the Eurasia Foundation, the channel sponsored an exit poll by the Global 

Strategy Group. Coupled with PVT, this poll proved highly important in challenging the 

fraudulent election results. Another advantage of the exit poll was that it was released 

and televised immediately after the polling stations closed. Preliminary official results 

started coming in a day later but were finalized only on November 23. Well aware of 

the “threat,” the government launched a campaign to discredit the exit poll. A Russian 

pollster (identified as Austrian) was invited to carry out an “alternative” exit poll that, 

as expected, confirmed the official results; but the popularity of Rustavi-2 drowned out 

these numbers and caused the rival exit poll to be ignored. 

Thus, during the Rose Revolution Rustavi-2 emerged as a key supporter of the protesters. Symbolically, the station reminded everyone of the value and importance of opening 

discussion space to all members of society. 

Saakashvili bolstered his 

reputation as a brave fighter 

against the regime. 

The rallies brought out people who had 

been too overcome by fear and apathy 

to participate in politics.
10

Civil Society and International Actors

Many observers have overestimated the contribution of civil society and foreign actors 

to the Rose Revolution. A number of NGOs, such as ISFED or the Liberty Institute, were 

very important; however, most groups remained fundamentally elitist, never winning the 

support and participation of the masses. Most of the international actors involved were 

too willing to compromise and make deals with Shevardnadze despite the demands of the 

Georgian people. 

Activities by two NGOs—the Georgian Young Lawyers’ Association and ISFED—proved 

important in challenging the rigged election results. ISFED managed to deploy more than 

3,000 trained volunteer observers throughout Georgia. The group also conducted PVT, 

which was one of the opposition’s major weapons. After release of the PVT results, Kmara 

and the Liberty Institute printed and distributed tens of thousands of leaflets contrasting 

these numbers with the official results. Also, the high quality of local election-observer 

teams allowed Kmara and opposition groups to concentrate all their resources in promoting political participation. 

Civil society’s main accomplishment lay in its success at delegitimizing and demythologizing the Shevardnadze regime and creating an atmosphere that made the revolution 

possible. Although they were weak and fragmented, by questioning the government, NGOs 

helped reveal that the government was even weaker in intellectual terms. 

Nevertheless, NGOs were constrained by elitism, their participation limited in many 

instances to English-speakers capable of writing projects and reports for foreign donors. 

Consequently, the agenda of most NGOs was foreign, too. On many occasions NGOs could 

not achieve the local legitimacy necessary to gain public support. Only a few NGOs with 

the capacity and will to come up with their own agendas became successful.

Western governments, particularly the United States, have been vilified and lauded for 

supporting the Rose Revolution. Observers’ reactions have ranged from enthusiasm about 

the future of democracy in this part of the world to far-reaching conspiracy theories crediting the U.S. ambassador in Tbilisi, Richard Miles, with being the eminence grise of the 

revolution. The fact that Miles was also U.S. ambassador in Belgrade during the revolution 

to overthrow Milosevic fits this line of thinking. 

Western assistance came in two forms: helping lay the groundwork for the elections by 

spreading democratic values and educating the public, and providing support during the 

revolution. Western funding for NGOs was important for civic education, informing the 

public on human rights, and so forth. But since the funding was foreign, the agenda was 

designed in western capitals and frequently focused on the entire region while neglecting 

problems specific to Georgia. 

During the revolution, not only were western actors unhelpful, but at times they were 

actually detrimental. For example, Georgian civil society members had to work hard to 

convince some Council of Europe officials that the Revival and Industrialist parties could 

not be considered opposition parties. Ambassador Miles not only did not “mastermind” 

the revolution; on occasion his actions and statements were quite destructive. Favoring 

protracted negotiations, he strongly discouraged decisive action by the opposition and 

considered Mikheil Saakashvili dangerously radical. In short, even in the critical preliminary report by the Organization for Security and Cooperation in Europe (OSCE), western 

leaders showed little desire to support decisive action.

Should the Security Forces Defend the Regime or the People?

The Georgian revolutionaries were not pacifists, despite the fact that both Kmara and 

National Movement activists underwent intense training in nonviolent techniques. Police 

and security forces might have been expected to use force when protesters occupied the 

parliament and other government buildings, but they chose to do nothing. The crowd was 

The high quality of local electionobserver teams allowed Kmara and 

opposition groups to concentrate 

all their resources in promoting 

political participation. 

During the revolution, not only 

were western actors unhelpful, 

but at times they were actually 

detrimental.
11

perfectly aware that the risk of violence was real throughout, but many believed that if 

bloodshed was inevitable, so be it.

These possibilities were all the more real considering the violence and civil war of the 

early 1990s. Nevertheless, Georgia had changed significantly since those years. The semiliberal nature of Shevardnadze’s regime allowed for the emergence and strengthening of 

democratic institutions and democratically minded actors. From the mid-1990s on, government officials, including the police and armed forces, became accustomed to criticism 

and democratic pressures, despite challenging working conditions and, most important, 

their lack of legitimacy, particularly after 1999. 

During the protests after the elections, it became increasingly clear that President 

Shevardnadze’s reactions were inadequate. In addition, numerous factions around him 

had strained relations, contributing to the possibility of deals with the opposition. The 

fact that Shevardnadze did not have a clearly identified successor increased fragmentation 

of pro-Shevardnadze groups. Just so, when an army does not have a consolidated and 

efficient chain of command, it has difficulties in winning. 

As for the police and military, the fact that their leaders agreed to negotiate showed 

their realization that with virtually the entire country involved in the protest movement, any use of force would result sooner or later in self-destruction. By November 

22, opposition leaders knew that some security units would not intervene, although the 

risk of violence was still great with no word from a number of special forces units loyal 

to the president. The significant factor for the police was that “critical mass” had been 

achieved. This was the number of protestors (120,000) necessary to give the revolution 

legitimacy and overwhelm the police at key moments, such as the takeover of government 

buildings. 

This collection of factors explains why force was not used. But one important aspect 

of the whole process was Kmara’s explicitly nonviolent rhetoric and discipline. This was 

particularly evident when Kmara female activists gave flowers to troops deployed around 

the city days before the revolution and when Kmara activists distributed sandwiches and 

went to great lengths to treat the troops the same as their fellow demonstrators. At no 

point did any civilian groups promote or resort to violent actions in the name of the 

resistance. 

The impact of this discipline was most apparent during the takeover of parliament, 

when only one window was broken because the doors were too narrow to accommodate 

the demonstrators. Kmara peacekeepers quickly broke up a few fistfights between citizens 

and members of parliament. Groups of volunteers stayed in the parliament and chancellery to ensure nothing was lost, stolen, or destroyed, and the head of the chancellery 

voluntarily handed over the building.

Conclusion

A variety of factors made the Rose Revolution possible: the incumbent regime’s systemic weakness, its history of liberal policies, the National Movement party’s success in 

radicalizing politics and broadening political participation, civic education efforts by civil 

society members during recent years, free media, and the radical, nonpartisan, nonviolent 

Kmara. 

The legacy of the Rose Revolution is great. As the first bloodless change of power in 

the region’s history, it rekindled hopes for democracy, which many believed intrinsically 

foreign to this part of the world. Many observers refer to the Rose Revolution as an inspiration for what some, including Georgia’s new president, Mikheil Saakashvili, have called 

a “new wave of democratization.” 

In addition to profoundly altering the development of Georgia and the Caucasus for 

years to come, the revolution inspired supporters of democracy throughout the former 

Soviet Union. Neither before nor during the 2003 mass protests in Georgia could oppoThe crowd was perfectly aware 

that the risk of violence was real 

throughout, but many believed 

that if bloodshed was inevitable, 

so be it.

As the first bloodless change of 

power in the region’s history, 

the Rose Revolution rekindled 

hopes for democracy.

With virtually the entire country 

involved in the protest movement, 

any use of force would result sooner 

or later in self-destruction.
sition activists in Tbilisi have dreamt of the level of support the Ukrainian opposition 

would receive a year later from western countries and institutions. 

In Georgia expectations of western support were based on western behavior following 

the presidential elections in Azerbaijan in October 2003. Although the Azeri presidential 

elections were characterized as “falling short of democratic standards,” all the western 

diplomats in Baku except the Norwegian ambassador rushed to congratulate the incumbent president’s son, Ilham Aliev, who suppressed public protests that erupted after he 

grabbed power. Ukraine’s political weight is far greater than Georgia’s, but the Georgian 

experience convinced many western policymakers that nonviolent regime change is 

indeed possible in the former Soviet Union and will not necessarily lead to civil war.

Open international support and solidarity increased the chances of success for democratic forces in Ukraine, and this could happen elsewhere in similar situations. At the 

same time, problems in Ukraine also confirmed the necessity to fund and train election 

observers capable of carrying out PVT and exit polling. Ideally, similar organizations from 

other former Soviet countries should assist such groups. Politically active youth groups 

such as Kmara must be included as well. 

At the same time, in more repressive and authoritarian systems like Belarus, where 

it is impossible to carry out comprehensive monitoring, the danger is that the regime 

will control election monitoring projects and groups and approach international actors 

for funding.

Finally, international actors such as the European Union and the United States 

should abandon the illusion that rigged elections might “not be so bad” or could be “an 

improvement over the last elections” in most post-Soviet countries. Softening wording 

of election monitoring results might undermine the reputation of authoritative election monitoring organizations such as the Office of Democratic Institutions and Human 

Rights of the OSCE, while putting democratic activists and forces in danger. Pressures 

on nondemocratic regimes should include measures responding to the country ’s internal 

situation—for example, pressure on governments to release political prisoners and stop 

arresting people for distributing posters. Western or EU ambassadors could make good 

use of their diplomatic status by publicly supporting demonstrations asserting that freedom is a right, not a luxury. 

Of Related Interest

A number of other publications from the United States Institute of Peace examine related 

issues.

Recent Institute Reports

•	 Belarus: Is a Peaceful Turn toward Democracy Possible? By Andrew Murrell (Peace 

Briefing, December 2005).

•	 Strategic Nonviolent Conflict: Lessons from the Past, Ideas for the Future, by John T. 

Crist, Harriet Hentges, and Daniel Serwer (Special Report, May 2002).

•	 Use and Abuse of Media in Vulnerable Societies, by Mark Frohardt and Jonathan Temin 

(Special Report, October 2003).

Please visit www.usip.org to download this and related reports.

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An online edition of this and related 

reports can be found on our Web site 

(www.usip.org), together with additional 

information on the subject.