From Ballots to Control

Georgia’s October 4, 2025 municipal elections laid bare the extent of the country’s democratic decline. What should have been a routine local vote instead confirmed the consolidation of one-party control. With opposition leaders imprisoned, watchdogs silenced, and voters intimidated, the process revealed a political system sustained by coercion rather than consent.

This was not an isolated event but the continuation of a trajectory that began after the disputed October 2024 parliamentary elections. Since then, the ruling Georgian Dream (GD) party has systematically dismantled checks and balances, shrinking civic space and weaponizing the law against dissent. Civil society and independent media are portrayed as threats to “stability”, while legal instruments designed to protect rights are now used to suppress them.

Europe’s response has been muted. While Brussels and key capitals voice concern, they have avoided confrontation. The result is a political order in which elections no longer test democracy but instead reinforce its erosion, sustained as much by GD’s tightening grip as by European inaction.

A Managed Spectacle

Georgia held what may have been its least-observed municipal elections since independence—by design. In June, Prime Minister Irakli Kobakhidze dismissed credible international monitors, calling the Organization for Security and Cooperation in Europe’s Office for Democratic Institutions and Human Rights’ (OSCE/ODIHR) mission “unnecessary”. Months later, the government reversed course, but only tactically. On September 6, less than a month before election day, it extended a last-minute invitation that effectively blocked ODIHR’s meaningful deployment. Such invitations are normally sent four to six months in advance, and the organization has observed Georgian elections in the past. When ODIHR declined, Georgian Dream used the refusal to feed propaganda claims of Western “bias”, simulating legitimacy while avoiding scrutiny.

At home, the same playbook applied. Georgia’s most experienced watchdogs—the International Society for Fair Elections and Democracy (ISFED) and the Georgian Young Lawyers’ Association (GYLA)—were targeted by GD’s restrictive laws. Their bank accounts were frozen, investigations opened, and both refused to participate in what they called an unfree, unfair process. With credible monitors removed by design and by choice, politically aligned groups filled the void, turning election observation into a state-controlled formality.

The opposition was not merely constrained—it was systematically dismantled. GD’s objective, it appears, is to eradicate organized opposition altogether. The imprisonment of leading figures and the ongoing intimidation of others have only deepened the existing disarray within the fragmented opposition, further weakening the potential for unified resistance. Many pro-European parties boycotted the municipal elections, refusing to legitimize what they called a farce. Those that did participate failed to mount a credible challenge. With competition eliminated in substance if not in form, the outcome was never in doubt. GD claimed victory in all 64 municipalities—in some districts its candidates ran unopposed—thereby cementing control over every level of local administration and edging Georgia closer to becoming a de facto one-party state.

Though GD has presented the results as a sweeping victory, unpacking the data reveals an interesting picture—one that suggests control, not confidence. In the capital, Tbilisi, incumbent mayor Kakha Kaladze officially won more than 70% of the vote, a figure the government touted as proof of overwhelming support. Yet, turnout collapsed to just 31%, down from 49% in the 2021 local elections. Kaladze received around 214,000 votes—roughly one-fifth the number of registered voters. On paper, it looks like a landslide, but in reality, it reflects a hollow mandate. The numbers point to a regime with fewer genuine supporters than ever before.

A Revolution That Wasn’t

For more than 300 days, since the disputed parliamentary elections of 2024, Georgians have maintained daily protests demanding free and fair elections, the release of political prisoners, and a return to the country’s European path. These demonstrations have evolved into a durable civic movement, reflecting both deep disillusionment with the ruling elite and the persistence of Georgia’s pro-European identity even amid repression.

Against this backdrop, October 4 became a focal point of pent-up frustration. A group of five protest organizers—claiming insider information that GD was collapsing from within—called for a “peaceful revolution” to unseat the regime by nightfall. Their message spread rapidly, prompting groups of citizens from across the country to travel to the capital in the hope of a decisive turning point. That so many were willing to believe such a narrative reflected not naivete but desperation, the product of a political environment stripped of legitimate alternatives, where opposition leaders are jailed, parties fragmented, and civic space suffocated. By evening, the atmosphere had turned volatile. A small group of demonstrators attempted to breach the courtyard of the presidential palace, where they were met with water cannons and tear gas. Riot police moved swiftly to disperse the crowds, arresting the five organizers, who were later detained and charged with attempting to overthrow the government. Soon after, PM Kobakhidze announced a broader crackdown, promising a series of detentions of others allegedly involved in the “attempt to overthrow the constitutional order”. He further vowed to “finish off” the opposition.

The episode revealed two key dynamics. First, the depth of social frustration: After years of broken promises and managed elections, the street remains the only space where Georgians feel their voices matter. Second, the regime’s strategic escalation: GD will use the failed “revolution” as justification for another round of arrests, media crackdowns, and legal measures against NGOs and political opponents. What unfolded was not a revolution but a stress test of Georgia’s political system—one that exposed how little remains of its pluralism and how willing the authorities are to criminalize dissent in the name of stability.

Authoritarian Normalization and European Complacency

The regime’s reaction to the protests extended well beyond domestic repression. In the days that followed, GD intensified its anti-Western rhetoric, continuing a pattern that has steadily deepened over the past years. PM Kobakhidze accused the European Union’s Ambassador to Georgia, Paweł Herczyński, of involvement in the alleged attempt to overthrow the government, claiming that “specific people from abroad” had supported the unrest and that the ambassador “bears special responsibility”. The statement was part of a calculated effort to frame Western partners as subversive actors; a tactic designed to justify further repression and erode the foundations of Georgia’s relationship with the EU.

This approach is no longer tactical but structural. GD has learned that the cost of democratic backsliding is low and largely rhetorical. By weaponizing anti-European sentiment while continuing to profess commitment to a “European path”, the regime seeks to redefine sovereignty as resistance to the West. What has emerged is managed authoritarianism cloaked in (pseudo) pro-European rhetoric, where elections, civil institutions, and even foreign-policy discourse serve the purpose of consolidation rather than reform.

For Brussels, this pattern is both familiar and self-inflicted. The EU has observed Georgia’s regression for years, responding with statements instead of consequences. The debate over suspending visa-free travel or imposing targeted sanctions on GD officials has stalled amid internal divisions and strategic fatigue. Some member states favor limiting travel only for regime figures to avoid amplifying anti-EU narratives; others prefer inaction to prevent escalation. The outcome is paralysis, a response that reinforces GD’s belief that Europe’s red lines are rhetorical, not real.

This passivity carries real costs. In the short term, GD will continue to interpret European restraint as permission to intensify repression and dismantle what remains of independent opposition. In the long term, Europe’s unwillingness to confront Georgia’s authoritarian consolidation will erode the credibility of its enlargement policies, creating space for other actors—notably Russia and China—to expand their influence in the EU’s immediate neighborhood. By tolerating Georgia’s democratic decay, Brussels risks normalizing authoritarianism within the candidate-state framework, signaling that alignment with the EU no longer requires adherence to its fundamental values. The danger for Europe is not only losing Georgia, but blurring the line between partnership and complicity by conceding that democracy at its borders is negotiable.