Thaw in relations gives sense of hope in Moldovan conflict

TRANSDNIESTRIA LETTER:Change has begun in Tiraspol as chemistry develops between the leaders on both sides

TO THE few foreigners who visit Tiraspol, capital of the unrecognised Transdniestrian Moldavian Republic – Transdniestria for short – it can seem like the last 20 years never happened.

A statue of Vladimir Lenin gazes across the main square towards an ex-Red Army T-34 tank that gleams proudly on a plinth. The Supreme Soviet building looms behind the granite revolutionary, topped by the flag that once represented the Moldavian Soviet Socialist Republic.

Transdniestria declared independence from Moldova in 1990, as its large Russian and Ukrainian communities began to fear for their futures in a mostly Romanian-speaking state alive with talk of possible reunification with Romania 50 years after it was annexed by the Soviet Union.

Fighting that erupted between Moldovan troops and Transdniestrian militias in 1992 killed more than 1,000 people and displaced 100,000 others. Russia, which provided some support to Transdniestria, helped broker a ceasefire and its troops stayed on in the region as peacekeepers.

Two decades later they are still here. Transdniestria, with a lot of Russian help, is still running its own affairs, and the conflict with Moldova is “frozen”. Even without the Soviet-era paraphernalia, it is easy to get the impression that little has changed since the fighting stopped.

But a closer look at this 400,000-strong sliver of land, separated by the Dniestr river from the rest of Moldova, reveals a tentative thaw in its relations with Chisinau, and a new openness to the world that has stirred hopes that a peaceful and permanent settlement may eventually be found.

Change began late last year, with the unexpected election of Yevgeny Shevchuk as president of Transdniestria, ousting the incumbent of 20 years, Igor Smirnov.

Shevchuk (44) came to power a month after formal conflict-resolution talks resumed following a six-year hiatus, and in his first weeks in office he met Moldovan prime minister Vlad Filat (43).

“He is a modern person . . . and a much better communicator than his predecessor,” Filat said of Shevchuk. “It’s important that neither of us took part in the 1992 conflict. I think this removes some of the subjectivity from negotiations. And I also feel that he is more correct in his respect of the human rights of the people in his region.”

Diplomats talk of the good chemistry between Filat and Shevchuk, and pin considerable hope on a “new generation” of leaders on either side of the Dniestr.

Perhaps the most striking member of this group is Nina Shtanski, Transdniestria’s foreign minister and an avid user of Facebook, through which she makes announcements, engages in discussion with other users and regularly posts photographs from public events and her private life. She is colouring in the black hole on the map of Europe that was Transdniestria under Smirnov.

“Over 20 years Moldova and Transdniestria reached 187 agreements, and none were implemented,” Shtanski said in her office in Tiraspol.

“So we agreed with Chisinau on a tactic of small steps, to make it simpler for people to move between both sides of the Dniestr, to interact with each other, to develop joint businesses. Implementing these small, practical steps helps create a broad platform of trust and confidence.”

Ireland has helped broker a number of such small breakthroughs – including the resumption of rail services through Transdniestria and the removal of radioactive waste from the region – during its current year as chairman of the Organisation for Security and Co-operation in Europe.

Ireland’s Minister of State for European Affairs, Lucinda Creighton, visited Chisinau and Tiraspol last week and urged both sides to build on recent progress that some diplomats call the most significant to be achieved since the war.

For all the talk of a fresh start and a new political generation, however, an old power is likely to decide Transdniestria’s fate.

Russia has about 1,500 troops stationed in the region as peacekeepers, and still maintains a depot containing 20,000 tonnes of Soviet-era weapons, 13 years after pledging to withdraw them.

Moscow also props up Transdniestria’s economy, subsidising a 70 per cent budget deficit and allowing the region to run up a gas bill to Russian suppliers of $3.5 billion – and insisting that Chisinau shoulder the debt.

Some analysts say Shevchuk differs from his predecessor in style rather than substance, noting his enthusiasm for Moscow’s planned Eurasian Union of ex-Soviet states and the recent appointment of an officer in the Russian security services to a senior position in Transdniestria.

Indeed, it is hard to see what Moscow could gain by facilitating the reintegration of Transdniestria with the rest of Moldova, considering that the status quo effectively gives the Kremlin, through its allies in Tiraspol, a veto over Chisinau’s dream of one day joining the European Union.

And while Chisinau dreams of loosening Russia’s grip on this corner of the old Soviet empire, in Tiraspol Shtanski describes Moscow’s role as “strongly positive”.

“Russia is our guarantor not on paper but with real actions,” she said.

“Thanks to Russia we have maintained peace here. And our people truly value this.”