Abkhazia is experiencing another round of domestic political turmoil. On January 1, 2027, a high-profile amendment will come into force there: candidates in the March elections to the de facto parliament will be required to have a mandatory command of the Abkhaz language. This would seem to be a triumph of national identity. In reality, however, this “language requirement” has exposed a serious problem.
Two polar opinions have clashed in Sukhumi. One side of the political spectrum argues that with the new amendments, Abkhazia will lose out on “talented administrators” whose only drawback is that they do not speak Abkhaz. Proponents of the opposite view counter: how can one build a political career without knowing the language of their own constitution?
But disputes aside, in reality Sukhumi does not yet have even clear criteria for testing the candidates. Moreover, the de facto authorities have not yet decided on the body that will be entrusted with administering the exam.
Meanwhile, the situation regarding knowledge of the Abkhaz language in the separatist region is extremely bleak. The study of the native language in Abkhazia has been commercialized, with numerous centers offering both beginner courses and advanced training. As experts explain, this is a marker of a deep crisis.
The fact is that today, according to Abkhaz estimates, most residents of the region do not know their native language; at best, they understand it. There are 60 Abkhaz schools operating there, but instruction is conducted in Abkhaz only up to the fifth grade, after which they switch to Russian. It is Russian that has become the primary language of officials and documentation. All official communication is conducted in it.
According to observers, this is the result of a years-long policy of Russification of the region, which is taking place under the guise of pseudo-independence. Abkhaz society is led to believe that an alliance with Russia guarantees security, development, and the preservation of its own statehood. In reality, however, the exact opposite is true. According to official data, half of the occupied region’s budget is funded by Russian money; according to unofficial data, it is much more than half. Therefore, key decisions in Sukhumi are made with Moscow’s permission.
Take, for example, the de facto presidential election held in March last year and how the Kremlin secured the victory of its candidate. First, Moscow announced a partial halt to funding for Sukhumi, then that electricity would be supplied to the region at commercial rates. Soon, information emerged that Moscow had completely cut off financial support. Meanwhile, the media stoked panic, trumpeting that Russia was imposing a ban on the import of Abkhaz products. And so, when tensions reached a boiling point, the Kremlin’s favored candidate, Badra Gunba, went to pay homage in the Russian capital, allegedly resolved the situation, and was elected.
Thus, while Abkhaz society, playing at independence, is distracted by domestic political squabbles, the Kremlin is sticking to its main plan, softly annexing the region.