I am eating breakfast in my parents’ garden on the outskirts of Chisinau, the capital of Moldova. It was a beautiful sunny day, birds singing, tulips and violets in bloom. My two crossbreed dogs, Pfizer and AstraZeneca, adopted during the pandemic, climbed on my knees, asking to be petted. A vegetable truck passed by with a nasal voice announcing over the loudspeaker: “La cartoafe, ceapa, morcovi, only” (“Potato, Onion, Carrot, Apple” in Romanian). It couldn’t get any better, but again, I cried, fearing that I might lose all of this.
Just this week, there have been several explosions in Transnistria, a breakaway border region an hour’s drive from Chisinau. This 400 km stretch of land is separated from the rest of the country by the Nistru River (Dniester) and is controlled by a Kremlin-backed regime that has not been recognized by any country, including Russia. Air strikes destroyed the so-called Security Ministry building in the city of Tiraspol on Monday, and on Tuesday hit two radio antennas in the town of Maiac that broadcast Russian programs. No one was injured or killed.
Such incidents had happened before in Transnistria, but the war in Ukraine added to their anxiety. Last Friday, Russian General Rustam Minnekayev announced plans to create a corridor from eastern Ukraine, through the south, all the way to Transnistria. He added that he was aware of “suppression against Russian speakers” in Transnistria – an ominous echo of the pretext used to justify the invasion of Ukraine.
Some friends are asking on Facebook if they should pack their bags. I know Moldovans who have fled since Russia invaded Ukraine. I was planning a birthday trip next week to the mountains of Romania and now wonder if I can go back and see my grandparents and dogs again. “Let’s hope this isn’t our last Easter together,” my grandmother said as she toasted at our family lunch last weekend.
When my mother gave birth to me 30 years ago, she could hear the bombs from the Transnistrian war from the maternity hospital in Chisinau. The conflict, which lasted from March to July 1992, was the first post-Soviet Russia war aimed at keeping a former colony under its sphere of influence. To this day, Russian troops are stationed in Transnistria, and some 20,000 tons of Soviet ammunition are buried in the village of Cobasna, the largest ammunition depot in Eastern Europe – despite international agreements Russia signed to withdraw both.
Throughout my life, the frozen conflict in Transnistria has been a constant setback to Moldova’s independence from Russia, its aspirations to join the EU, and its fight against corruption. But no one believed that a real war could break out again on the territory of Moldova. That has now changed.
The mantra that we keep repeating is: “Moldova depends on Odesa, and Odesa depends on Mykolaiv.” Odesa is only 60 km from the Moldova border, and Mykolaiv is 130 km from Odesa; has not yet been usurped by the Russians.
Since the outbreak of war in Ukraine, government sources tell me that Transnistrian requirements for Moldovan passports have increased dramatically. Following news of the explosions in Tiraspol, I saw pictures on social media showing hundreds of cars waiting to leave Transnistria – although an acquaintance visited his family there for Easter. said some people in the queue may have just returned from their vacation.
In light of these new incidents, I met with photographer Mikhail Kalarashan. Born in Tiraspol, he currently lives in Chisinau but returns frequently to Transnistria. “There is now a real opportunity to resolve the Transnistrian conflict,” he told me. “It’s just that nobody’s really tried to do that in the last 30 years.”
Since the 1990s, Transnistria’s economy has been monopolized by one company, Sheriff, co-founded by former KGB agent Victor Gushan and owning everything from supermarket chains to Champions League football clubs along with effectively name and run the ruling party of Transnistria. There are not many opportunities for people outside this small class. With the death of Transnistria’s Soviet-era industry, Moldova has become even more attractive to young people like Kalarashan. It will be even more attractive if its application for EU membership makes significant progress.
Since the war, my family stopped watching local TV shows, turning instead to Freedom Ukraine, a Russian-language channel where several Ukrainian television crews joined forces to cover the war. One commentator interprets the Transnistria incidents as the Kremlin’s attempt to officially take over the region so there’s “at least something” to report on May 9, known as Victory Day. in Russia.
That is a reasonable explanation. May 9 parades honor the Soviet Union’s victory over fascism in the second world war and remember the victims, but in recent years they have been used as parades support the Kremlin. In Transnistria, the May 9 parade has now been cancelled. We still don’t know what will happen in Chisinau, which is often marked by rallies organized by pro-Russian political parties.
A key symbol in these parades is the orange and black St George’s ribbon, a Russian military symbol that was banned in Moldova last week, along with the “Z” and “V” signs used by the troops. Russian team in Ukraine use. “Those who justify the killing of Ukrainians today can demand the killing of Moldovans tomorrow,” President Maia Sandu said as she enacted the law. In response to the ban, Duma member Viktor Vodolatsky announced that “Ukrainian writing will be repeated [in Moldova]”.
During the first week of the war, Chisinau’s run-down socialist modernist National Hotel was painted in yellow and blue, the colors of the Ukrainian flag. When the new law went into effect, it was half painted in orange and black, the colors of the St George’s ribbon. Police identified two individuals paid by the Kremlin-backed opposition PSRM party as painters. Authorities asked the same individuals to paint the orange car with black paint.
It gives me hope that the green and yellow flag is a spontaneous act, while the St George’s ribbon is motivated by money – and excluded by law. International law and support can protect Moldova from Russian interference in its politics. But with our small army, only the Ukrainian army is currently protecting us from Russian aggression. I will continue to donate to them.
Paula Erizanu is a journalist and author
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