Kurds Seek Federal Solution as Tensions Rise in Syria and Beyond

Kurds wave independence-era flags during a demonstration in support of the US-backed, Kurdish-led Syrian Democratic Forces in the northeastern city of Qamishli, on Dec. 19, 2024. (DELIL SOULEIMAN/AFP via Getty Images)

GIORGIA VALENTE

MEDIALINE
12/29/2024

Kurds face oppression across the Middle East, battling for recognition and autonomy while resisting extremism, Turkey's aggression, and regional political challenges

The Kurdish people, often referred to as the largest stateless ethnic group in the world, have faced centuries of marginalization and persecution. Scattered across Turkey, Syria, Iraq, and Iran, the Kurds share a cultural, linguistic, and historical bond but remain divided by political borders imposed after World War I. In Syria, their plight has been particularly stark with decades of oppression under the Arab nationalist Baath regime.

“The Kurds are native to Turkey, Syria, Iraq, and Iran. Today, they are probably the largest ethnic group that does not have a state of its own. There are about 20 million in Turkey, 10 [million] in Iraq, 6 [million] in Iran, and 3 or 4 [million] in Syria. We do not have exact numbers. It’s all estimates,” Henri Barkey, adjunct senior fellow for Middle East Studies at CFR, said to The Media Line.

Kurds in Syria have long been treated as second-class citizens. Stripped of citizenship rights in the 1960s, many were rendered stateless and denied access to education, property ownership, and other fundamental rights.


I was perhaps one of the few Kurds who did not belong to the ruling party in Syria and still had the opportunity to work academically in Syrian universities, despite being classified as an opponent of the regime. When I earned my doctorate with distinction, the regime’s security agencies issued a secret order banning me from teaching in all public and private universities.

“I was perhaps one of the few Kurds who did not belong to the ruling party in Syria and still had the opportunity to work academically in Syrian universities, despite being classified as an opponent of the regime,” said to The Media Line, Serbest Nabi, a Syrian Kurdish political philosophy professor, currently living in Erbil, Kurdistan. However, his achievements came at a cost. “When I earned my doctorate with distinction, the regime’s security agencies issued a secret order banning me from teaching in all public and private universities,” he said.

This marginalization was rooted in the Baathist ideology, which sought to suppress ethnic diversity in favor of Arab nationalism. For Kurds, asserting their identity or demanding rights was met with suspicion and repression. “The suspicion of being an extreme Kurdish nationalist followed me everywhere and throughout my academic life,” he shared.

Many Syrian Kurds facing these issues, like Nabi, had to escape to Iraq, a country where Kurds achieved autonomy as part of a federal state. As of January 2024, the UN High Commissioner for Refugees reported that approximately 270,000 Syrian refugees were residing in Iraq, with the majority being Syrian Kurds.


I sought refuge in Iraqi Kurdistan. My family joined me here later. My children, who grew up here, know nothing about their homeland and their father’s birthplace.

“I sought refuge in Iraqi Kurdistan. My family joined me here later. My children, who grew up here, know nothing about their homeland and their father’s birthplace,” Nabi addressed.

Since the Syrian Civil War in 2011, Kurdish forces, primarily the Syrian Democratic Forces (SDF), have played a crucial role in fighting ISIS and controlling key territories in northern Syria.

“The Kurds in Syria alone have faced the culture of religious extremism and the racism of the Arab Baathist regime. Fate has forced them to confront groups like ISIS, Al-Nusra, and others with takfiri ideologies,” Barkey stated.

“The Kurds are responsible for holding 40,000 ISIS prisoners, including fighters, women, and children. If Turkey keeps pushing militias to obstacle them, these prisoners could escape, spreading across the Middle East and reigniting the ISIS threat in Syria like in the past,” he added.

SDF historically allied with the US against ISIS, but this has led to tensions with Turkey, which views the group as an extension of the PKK (Kurdistan Workers’ Party), a designated terrorist organization.

“Turkey has invaded Syrian territory controlled by the Kurds three times since 2016, shrinking Kurdish-held areas under the pretext of fighting terrorism. Turkey, a NATO member, has been attacking Kurdish forces with impunity while the US did very little to protect them. Kurds were betrayed by allies,” Barkey said.

By supporting extremist factions, like Hay’at Tahrir al-Sham (HTS), and creating proxy forces like the Syrian National Army, Ankara has sought to prevent any form of Kurdish autonomy along its borders.


Turkey is strategically afraid of Kurdish autonomy. If the Syrian Kurds negotiate something similar to Iraq’s federal structure, it raises the possibility that Turkish Kurds will demand the same. For Erdogan, this is a red line.

“Turkey is strategically afraid of Kurdish autonomy. If the Syrian Kurds negotiate something similar to Iraq’s federal structure, it raises the possibility that Turkish Kurds will demand the same. For Erdogan, this is a red line,” explained Barkey.

“Erdogan wants to bring back Ottoman thoughts—control Egypt, the Mediterranean Sea, Greece, and Cyprus. It’s all for pipelines and regional dominance, but the Kurds are an obstacle to this plan,” Juan Saadoun, a Syrian Kurd media activist currently living in Canada, said to The Media Line.

He also highlighted the hypocrisy in the West’s position these days. “The irony is that while the West normalized HTS, which originated from Al-Qaeda, they label Kurds as terrorists for past PKK ties,” he said.

Turkey’s aggression also aims to prevent solidarity between Kurds across borders. “We, along with the Kurds of Turkey, represent a shared social, cultural, and historical extension. Political borders cannot separate our common consciousness of belonging to our identity,” Saadoun noted.

He emphasized how Turkey’s proxy forces exacerbated the plight of civilians. “The Turkish-backed factions in Afrin and other areas in Syria commit atrocities, prevent families from returning, and enforce extremist practices like Jizya taxation,” he stated.

Personal stories of loss underscore the gravity of the situation and point out the fear of an ISIS comeback. “My brother Yusuf led fierce battles against ISIS and was martyred resisting the Turkish invasion in 2019 in Ras al-Ain (Sere Kaniye). My cousin, Haji, was martyred in the battles to liberate Raqqa from ISIS. We must prevent this from happening again,” Nabi shared.

Despite these challenges, the Kurds remain resilient, united by a shared vision for self-determination. “The Kurdish tragedy cannot continue in this manner. A solution must transcend the colonial-imposed borders of the Middle East after World War I to ensure the rightful place of the Kurds in this geography,” Barkey stated.

We want a federal region, like the Kurdistan region in Iraq. We want safety and protection for Alawites, Druze, and other minorities as well.

Saadoun shared this view: “We want a federal region, like the Kurdistan region in Iraq. We want safety and protection for Alawites, Druze, and other minorities as well.”

Yet, achieving this dream is fraught with obstacles. “I aspire to return to my country and participate in political life,” Nabi said. “However, I find it very difficult to return to a country ruled by an Islamic political-religious movement. I will most likely be on the side of the opposition, continuing to confront any tendency toward establishing a tyrannical religious authority in Syria.”, he claimed.

The Kurdish struggle for recognition, equality, and safety continues, a testament to their enduring spirit in the face of adversity. As Nabi pointed out, “The current situation requires resilience and global solidarity. Without it, the Kurds will remain caught in a cycle of war and marginalization, their sacrifices overshadowed by regional and international politics.”

'My brother is fighting on frontlines in Ukraine—how can I not protest in Georgia?'

Content by JAMnews’ partner Donbas News   30.12.2024

The histories of Ukraine and Georgia (Sakartvelo) share much in common. Since recognizing their independence, Russia has used every means to try to subjugate both Ukrainians and Georgians once again. Yet, both countries not only resist but also support one another.

In 1993, during the Georgian-Abkhaz conflict in Sukhumi, Ukraine organized a humanitarian mission to rescue 8,000 Georgian refugees stranded in the mountains. At the same time, a Ukrainian legion fought alongside Georgians. In 2008, during the Russo-Georgian War, Ukraine supplied Georgia with air defense systems, and Ukrainian fighters again stood shoulder to shoulder with Georgians. During Ukraine’s Revolution of Dignity, Georgians came to support Ukrainians. In 2014, when the war in Donbas began, Georgians joined the fight alongside Ukrainians and formed the Georgian Legion. After Russia’s full-scale invasion in 2022, dozens of Georgians enlisted in the Legion and went to fight in Ukraine. Meanwhile, in Tbilisi, large amounts of humanitarian aid were collected for Ukrainians, even as the Georgian government remained silent. According to a survey by the Georgian research company ATS, 87% of Georgians consider the war in Ukraine to be their own war. Ukrainians and Georgians understand each other like no one else.

Currently, anti-government and pro-European protests have been ongoing in Georgia (Sakartvelo) for the fourth consecutive week. A journalist from Donbas News who regularly attends the rallies in Tbilisi has prepared a report, speaking with two Georgians and a Ukrainian about mutual support, war, and protests.

How protest began

After the elections in Georgia (Sakartvelo), which, according to the opposition Coalition for Change, were falsified, the pro-Russian party Georgian Dream emerged victorious. In the days that followed, tension simmered in Tbilisi, with no clear outlet. There were protests and tents were set up, but the demonstrations remained relatively small. That changed on 28 November when Georgian Prime Minister Irakli Kobakhidze announced that Georgia would postpone negotiations for EU membership until 2028. As Georgians jokingly say, “The opposition couldn’t bring people to the streets, but Kobakhidze managed to do it for them.” The country erupted.

That evening, a massive crowd gathered in front of the parliament in Tbilisi. I joined the protest, making my way closer to the building through the crowd. But I couldn’t get too near—the throng was too dense. I tried to make sense of what was happening when I suddenly heard someone shout:

– გაზი! Gazi! (Gas!)

The crowd started fleeing from the riot police—nicknamed “Robocops” in Georgia—who had fired tear gas capsules at us. My vision blurred, and my throat tightened, a familiar feeling from when the Robocops dispersed protests against the foreign agents’ law in 2023. The crowd, filling much of Tbilisi’s main avenue, Rustaveli, surged forward. Some people stumbled.

– ნელა! Nela! (Slowly!) – Georgians shouted to one another to prevent injuries in the crush. The word means “slowly” in Georgian.

The crowd slowed down. I moved further away to catch my breath in cleaner air. Each inhalation after the gas was excruciating. Around me, people coughed uncontrollably as we stopped by the Opera House. A few people had come prepared with saline solution to rinse eyes affected by the gas. Those with the solution were embraced by others in gratitude.

Protests in Georgia’s capital, Tbilisi, 2024. Photo: Sofia Atamanova, personal archive

I wipe away my tears and try to figure out what’s happening at Parliament. I open Telegram: someone was taken away by ambulance after the gas attack, someone else was beaten by the riot police. Even in towns with populations under 3,000, people have joined the protests. The whole country is protesting. I subscribe to new Georgian Telegram channels where admins are reporting on what’s happening at the sites of clashes with the authorities.

Photographer Zurab

We return to Parliament, but from the middle of the crowd, it’s impossible to see anything. I check Telegram again for updates. “Javakhadze!” reports that serious clashes between security forces and protesters have already begun near Parliament, with water cannons being used. We shout, “Sakartvelo Gaumarjos!” (“Long Live Georgia!” – ed.). We stood until morning, and it became clear: the authorities are determined to suppress the protest forcefully, while the Georgians are determined to stand their ground until the very end.

Protests in Georgia’s capital, Tbilisi, 2024. Photo: Sofia Atamanova, personal archive

At home, I write to a close friend in Kyiv. I know she’ll understand my decision to stand with Georgians at the protests like no one else. She asks me to be careful and sends a list of items that might come in handy—protective gear and medicines she always carried with her on the Maidan. If anyone has received a “Maidan manual,” it’s me. The adrenaline keeps me awake, so I decide to look up the author of the “Javakhadze!” channel. It’s run by Zurab Javakhadze, a photojournalist. Until the age of 10, Zurab lived in Tbilisi before his parents moved him to Moscow. He worked in Russia for many years, covering protests and events in the Caucasus. Later, he went to document the Maidan and the frontlines at the beginning of the war in 2014. In 2022, he returned to Tbilisi with his family. Now, he photographs protests in Georgia (Sakartvelo) for his Telegram channel.

Zurab shares what he witnessed on the Maidan ten years ago and what is happening now in Tbilisi:

“It’s hard to imagine now, but in 2014, you could work for TASS in Ukraine—I even had accreditation from the SBU. I arrived in Kyiv before the first crackdown on protesters, right when everything was just beginning. I literally slept through the first dispersal—came out of the Hotel Ukraina at 7 a.m., and the whole area was cordoned off, with no one around. After that, everything escalated quickly. The clashes on Bankova Street happened next—that’s where I was photographing.A Berkut officer ran up to me and shouted, ‘Get down!’ I instinctively lay on the ground, using my camera lens to shield the back of my head. Five of them started beating me. I was saved by some guys from the Internal Troops—they were conscripts. Nearby was Evgeniy Maloletka, and they broke his wrist that day. I got back up and started taking photos again, finding myself behind the police lines. The officers brutally beat a huge number of people—anyone they could reach—women, the elderly, everyone. I captured them dragging a woman by the neck, choking her. One of my photos from that day made The Times’ top 20 images of 2013.”

Protests on Kyiv’s Maidan Nezalezhnosti, 2013. Photo: Ukrainian Institute of National Memory

After the first crackdown, Ukrainians didn’t just come back—they came out in a massive wave, about half a million people. When I saw that, I became a Ukrainophile. The freedom-loving spirit of the Ukrainian people amazed and inspired me. I always tell my wife that if not for Tbilisi, I would have moved to Kyiv. I went to the Maidan several more times. I was in Ukraine when Saakashvili gave a speech there. He stood on the Maidan and said, “Russia is going to start a war.” I looked at the faces of the people around me—they were deeply frightened, whispering to each other, asking, “What is he talking about? What war?” Ukrainian society didn’t want a war, and it wasn’t prepared for one.

Mikheil Saakashvili on Kyiv’s Maidan, 2013. Screenshot from video broadcast

Then the war began, and I went to the frontlines. Once, I was right on the line of contact and ended up in a bomb shelter with civilians. Everyone fell asleep except for me and one woman who couldn’t sleep either. We started talking, and she told me she had moved to Donetsk from the Rostov region. Back when nothing had yet happened in Donetsk, her relatives started calling her, saying that “Banderites” were killing people in Ukraine. That’s when, she said, she realized who was behind it all. She told me she and many others in Donbas didn’t understand where the referendum would lead. “If I had known how it would all end,” she said, “I would have taken an axe and killed those who initiated that referendum.”

I witnessed an incident where a militant approached an elderly Ukrainian vendor at a market. The man in uniform started talking about how they had come to defend the “DNR” there. The Ukrainian man looked him in the eye and said, “I don’t know any ‘DNR.’ I’m Ukrainian, I was born in Ukraine, and this will always be Ukraine. I don’t know who you’re protecting here, but it’s definitely not me.” But I also want to point out that in Donbas, many people reacted differently. Donbas was one of the places where the Soviet Union most actively shaped the “Soviet person,” and the decades of propaganda bore fruit. I’ll never forget a miner from Luhansk region who joined the “USSR Battalion.” He told me, “These khokhols forced me to learn Ukrainian, but why the hell do I need their Ukrainian?” This was a man who had lived his entire life in Ukraine and was outraged that he was made to learn Ukrainian.

When I left, I was sure the separatists would be driven out within two weeks and everything would return to normal. I saw the mood of the people—many were pro-Ukraine. The separatists were few in number. But then the Russian army arrived, and a terrible tragedy unfolded. I felt deep sympathy for the Ukrainians because I knew what would come next—my country had already gone through this. It felt like someone had dusted off the “Abkhazia-Georgia” folder, changed the geographic names, and replayed the exact same scenario.

After the war in Ukraine began, censorship appeared in the newsroom. Zurab didn’t hide his stance, and in 2015, he was fired from TASS for it. He stayed in Moscow with his wife and child, as his child needed constant medical treatment that wasn’t available in Georgia (Sakartvelo) at the time. Zurab kept working as a photographer—first shooting weddings, then sports events. But after the full-scale war started, they sold their property in Russia and moved to Georgia (Sakartvelo).

“I saw the start of the full-scale war as a new invasion of my own country by Russia. We see our fate mirrored in what’s happening in Ukraine. In Sakartvelo, people immediately began collecting massive amounts of humanitarian aid, hosting refugees, and donating to the Ukrainian army. Back in the day, Ukrainian volunteers fought in Abkhazia, and many of them gave their lives to stop Russia. Likewise, many Georgian volunteers went to Ukraine to fight in 2022, and they’re still there today. ‘Georgian Dream’ claims, ‘If we don’t stay in power, there will be war.’ But the reality is, as long as Ukraine holds back this horde, there won’t be any war here.”

Bakhmut in Donetsk Region destroyed by Russian Forces, Aerial View. Screenshot from a NYT video.

Zurab has joined the pro-European protests in Georgia (Sakartvelo), attending daily demonstrations on Rustaveli Avenue and reporting on them through his Telegram channel:

“Today, the entire country has taken to the streets because we know that Russia means war and ethnic cleansing. We have seen nothing from them but blood and pain. Only EU membership can save us from Russia, which is why these protests have been going on for four weeks and, I hope, will not stop. Otherwise, we will perish as a nation.Right now, the authorities are acting very similarly to how the pro-Russian authorities acted during the Maidan. There are titushky—thugs without uniforms—who are detaining people, as well as the use of tear gas and rubber bullets. The Robocops [riot police] are ready to resort to violence for money. A friend of mine in the police told me that they’re paid 1,000 lari per day for dispersing protests—that’s a lot of money for Georgia (about 15,000 hryvnias—ed.)

We’re all sick and tired of Russia’s attempts to drag us back into the Soviet Union—it’s been thirty years, and we’re still struggling against it. I’m very proud of my country, which has taken to the streets to defend its future.”

Protests in Georgia’s capital, Tbilisi, 2024. Photo: Sofia Atamanova, personal archive

Almost from day one, barricades started rising on Rustaveli Avenue and nearby streets, built from garbage bins and anything else protesters could find nearby. Each new section of the barricades is met with applause. The people on the barricades stand on the front lines, facing the Robocops, and suffer the worst burns from the gas. Running between the barricades to deliver saline solution for people’s eyes, I hear “Bez Boyu” by Okean Elzy—we sang it at the top of our lungs together with the Georgians. The security forces constantly try to tear down the barricades, but for every one they destroy, three more appear. People keep bringing new materials, using whatever is at hand. Fires burn both near the barricades and all along the avenue—it’s already cold at night, and we warm ourselves by them. This is especially vital for those pushed away from the Parliament building by water cannons. Around the fires, people are always drying clothes, and those who managed to stay dry immediately take off their own clothes to give to those soaked. All this, even though the temperature has already dropped below zero.

Protests in Georgia’s capital, Tbilisi, 2024. Photo: Sofia Atamanova, personal archive

The Robocops are getting angrier by the day. Every evening, they bombard the protesters with an overwhelming amount of chemical agents—smoke grenades, gas capsules, and water from cannons that burns the skin. There’s so much gas it looks like a thick fog has settled over the avenue. Many people, myself included, are wearing construction masks and respirators—I can’t even imagine how those without protection are managing to stay here. As I run between people with saline solution, many shake their heads and show me their own bottles. The gas feels different now; it’s not just hard to breathe—it makes your head spin for quite a while after the attacks. In response to the gas, Georgians started using fireworks. At first, they launched them at the Parliament building, then began “firing back” at the security forces.

Protests in Georgia’s capital, Tbilisi, 2024. Photo: Sofia Atamanova, personal archive

This doesn’t happen all the time. Usually, in the evenings, when people are just starting to gather, the protest remains peaceful. But you never know when the crackdown will begin. During one quiet moment, I walk close to the Parliament and notice a familiar flag with the insignia of the “Georgian Legion,” which fights in Ukraine. I approach it, and the flag is being held by Zurab—he lost both legs after stepping on a mine in the Kharkiv region. We manage to exchange a few words in a mix of Ukrainian and Georgian. I thank him, and he smiles warmly, saying, “This is our shared enemy.” Then the crackdown begins, and I lose sight of Zurab.

The arrests grow harsher with each passing day. Robocops have started detaining even random passersby. Titushky—just like the ones from the Maidan—have appeared. At night, protests are dispersed on the streets, while during the day, people are beaten near their homes or offices, with waves of arrests taking place. The titushky also show up at protests, and when they start beating people, the police simply stand by. They don’t react to cries for them to stop the violence. On 4 December, titushky fractured the skull of Kobe Khabazi, another fighter from the Georgian Legion, in the main office of the “Akhali” party. A week later, he was back on the streets with his head bandaged. The violence from the authorities isn’t working as a method of intimidation—the more people are injured or detained, the more take to the streets.

Georgian Legion fighter: Miro

The fighters of the Georgian Legion were ready to return to Georgia (Sakartvelo) in full force, but President Salome Zourabichvili stated that this would lead to military escalation by the illegitimate government. One of the most well-known fighters of the Legion, Miro Vanadze, moved from Georgia (Sakartvelo) to Ukraine in 2018 to train as a professional MMA fighter.

Miro Vanadze. Photo from his personal Facebook page.

Miro became a two-time world champion in mixed martial arts under WGFC and the president of the International Assembly of the Georgian People. At the start of the full-scale war, he baked free Georgian shoti bread for Kyiv residents, then helped with evacuations and joined the Georgian Legion as a fighter. He is currently undergoing rehabilitation in Kyiv. He shared his thoughts on the protests in Georgia (Sakartvelo) and the war in Ukraine:

“Ukraine has become my second home. When the war began, I didn’t hesitate to join the Legion. I believe this: when your country is at war, a man’s conscience should not allow him to hide while others die in battle. I’m proud to have taken part in liberating Kyiv Oblast—I was in Irpin and Bucha. Russian terrorists killed countless civilians there, people who had no connection to the military. These were simply residents of Bucha, lying dead in the streets with their hands tied. It’s a true genocide of the Ukrainian people.

When I went to war, I knew what Russian scum were capable of. Sakartvelo experienced the same in 1992-1993 and in 2008—the scenarios are identical. I’ve heard stories of how, in Sukhumi, Russian soldiers cut off a Georgian fighter’s head and played with it like a ball, how they raped 13-14-year-old girls. In 1992, the Russians killed my uncle while he was a prisoner. Back then, it wasn’t possible to document and share Russian crimes as widely as we can now, but today the whole world sees what Russia is capable of.

We have a common enemy. More than 100 Georgians have already given their lives for Ukraine. Just as we’re fighting now, Ukrainians helped us fight in Abkhazia—fighters from UNA-UNSO (Ukrainian National Assembly – Ukrainian People’s Self-Defence) stood with us. I defended Kyiv alongside one of those fighters. Thirty years ago, he helped my country, and now I’m helping his. It was a great honour for me to fight alongside him.”

When the protests began, Miro wanted to return to Georgia (Sakartvelo), but he currently cannot leave Ukraine. Moreover, he says he learned from acquaintances that he is on a list for arrest due to his stance and participation in the Georgian Legion. From Ukraine, he continues to speak out about the situation in Georgia through his social media and various media appearances:

“I feel pain for my country. This so-called government is doing everything it can to sever ties with Europe and align with those who occupy 20% of our land, who killed our people. As the president of the International Assembly of the Georgian People, on behalf of all its members, I do not recognise this government.

This pro-Russian regime is terrorising Georgians. I look with pride at how protests are taking place not only in Tbilisi but also in Zugdidi, Kutaisi, Batumi, Gori, and many other cities. I also see Ukrainian women joining our rallies—I am deeply grateful to them.

I believe in my country, in my people. I see thousands of people fighting for freedom. Together, we will win—Ukraine and Sakartvelo. Our histories are very similar; we’ve constantly fought against this cursed empire. And we will continue to fight—both on the frontlines here and on the streets of Sakartvelo. Our countries will undoubtedly become EU members.”

Protests in Georgia’s capital, Tbilisi, 2024. Photo: Sofia Atamanova, personal archive

The first ten days of protests were truly a battle. The authorities tried everything to drive people off the streets, but they failed. With every act of violence, more and more people joined the protests. Now, fireworks explode far less frequently, and the protesters have shifted into a marathon phase—everyone is prepared for a long fight for their freedom.

During the day, some buses return to Rustaveli Avenue, but most of the avenue has been blocked off for over 20 days. Cafes have removed their outdoor tables—half of them were dismantled to build barricades. The theatre doors bear marks from rubber bullets, and the windows of nearby buildings are shattered. City workers try to scrub away the endless graffiti on the walls, but it’s futile—everyone knows what’s hidden under the black squares, and new slogans keep appearing beside them.

Every day, different marches take place—union marches, regional marches, student marches. They all end at Parliament, merging into one large, continuous protest. By evening, Rustaveli settles into its now-familiar rhythm: protesters gather, surrounded by people waving the flags of Georgia (Sakartvelo) and the European Union

Ukrainian from Crimea: Sofia

Rustaveli has become a city within a city. A medical station in a red tent is run by volunteers. Near the Opera House and closer to the metro, hot tea is distributed every evening, and soup is served near the hotel. While waiting in line for hot tea—it’s already below freezing in the evenings—I hear Ukrainian. Several Ukrainian women are volunteering at this station. In fact, many Ukrainians living in Georgia (Sakartvelo) attend the protests almost like going to work. One of them is Sofia Atamanova, who was born and raised in Crimea. After the war began in 2014, her family made a principled decision not to leave the occupied peninsula—they didn’t want to surrender their home to the occupiers. At home, they always spoke Ukrainian, a flag hung on the wall, and a bust of Taras Shevchenko stood nearby. A few years later, Sofia moved to Kyiv but regularly visited her mother and brother. When the full-scale invasion began, her mother finally fled to Kyiv, her brother joined the Ukrainian Armed Forces, and Sofia moved to Georgia (Sakartvelo):

“The first thing I saw in Sakartvelo was a huge number of Ukrainian flags. I remember just standing and crying that first day. I felt like I had come home. Whenever Georgians heard Ukrainian, they would immediately shout, ‘Slava Ukraini!’Almost everyone here has experienced their own war. When Georgians find out I’m Ukrainian, they start sharing their stories about Abkhazia. Over nearly three years, the level of support from people hasn’t changed. I always feel this support. But the Sakartvelo government has done almost nothing to help us. They provided temporary housing at the beginning of 2022 but suddenly evicted everyone soon after. All the aid Ukrainians receive comes from independent foundations and volunteers.

I don’t need assistance because I work in IT, so I immediately started helping those who arrived from Ukraine. I volunteered at humanitarian aid distribution points and later assisted in houses rented by volunteers for displaced people. I helped Ukrainians adapt and find jobs. Then I began creating content for social media. One day, I went to record the story of a woman from Mariupol whose son had died in captivity during the Olenivka (Yelenivka) terrorist attack. Later, she called me and said she needed to travel to Ukraine to take a DNA test—without it, she couldn’t reclaim her son’s remains. She just asked me to find tickets for her. I wanted to pay for them myself, but a Ukrainian foundation helped her instead.”

Protests in Georgia’s capital, Tbilisi, 2024. Photo: Sofia Atamanova, personal archive

Sofia didn’t only help Ukrainians forced to flee the war. When protests against the foreign agents’ law began in Tbilisi in 2023, she took to the streets to support the Georgians. Having previously worked in photography, she decided the best way to help was by documenting the protests and the violence from the authorities:

“I went out to photograph all the protests that happened here. After posting my first photos, I realised that people from different countries wanted to know what was happening in Sakartvelo. The more interest, the more support. I remember a moment when protesters were trying to get onto the Parliament grounds through a side gate—I was photographing everything. We were hit hard with tear gas that day. A few days later, there was a situation where two priests stood between the police and the protesters. Riot police began advancing, and they sprayed one of the priests directly in the face with pepper gas. That was the moment when I truly started feeling scared.”

Protests in Georgia’s capital, Tbilisi, 2024. Photo: Sofia Atamanova, personal archive

Protests in Georgia’s capital, Tbilisi, 2024. Photo: Sofia Atamanova, personal archive

In Crimea, I didn’t experience violence from security forces. At the start of the war, I was only 16, and after that, nothing like protests happened in Crimea—just reinforced concrete occupation. However, I have firsthand experience of how deeply Russian propaganda affects people. In Sakartvelo, I see very similar methods being used to influence the population. In 2014, in Crimea, people were manipulated into believing that if we didn’t choose Russia in the referendum, a war would start. Here, “Georgian Dream” is doing the same thing. During their election campaign this year, they used photos of bombed-out houses in Ukraine with the caption: “If you don’t choose us, Sakartvelo will have war.” Many Georgians were genuinely frightened. Taxi drivers often tell me that if Georgia chooses Europe, war is inevitable, but if we restore relations with Russia, we’ll be safe. And taxis are the best way to understand what’s happening in a country and what people believe.

In 2014, Russia took my home; in 2022, it forced me to flee Kyiv under shelling; and now, this empire is trying to drive me out again, but this time from Sakartvelo. It’s clear that Ukrainians will be pushed out if the ruling party stays in power. Compared to last year’s protests, it’s truly terrifying to go out now—every day feels like a real fight.

On the very first day, I found myself in the middle of the crowd. Rustaveli is a straight and relatively narrow avenue, and at one point, I felt like the crowd was carrying me along. We were hit with tear gas, and everyone was choking. People were literally collapsing to the ground from inhaling so much gas. We made it to the Opera House, where we could finally catch our breath. I ran into the landlord of the apartment I’m renting here—he’s over 80! He told me that while his age no longer allows him to be in the thick of the protest, on 9 April 1989, he was in the front lines.

The security forces have become harsher, and the amount of tear gas has increased significantly. They’re mixing some kind of chemical into the water used by the cannons. My friend and I were hit by a water cannon once, and the white soles of his sneakers turned green afterward. If I get arrested, at best, I’ll be deported. But I will continue to stand with the Georgians and document what’s happening. When you’re there, you feel such unity, such strength. Georgia has become my second home. I feel like no one in the world loves Ukrainians as much as Georgians do. We have so much in common in our histories—our countries know what war is, what occupation is. When I feel scared to go to a protest, I always remind myself that my brother is on the frontlines right now, fighting for our freedom—how can I not protest in Sakartvelo? Both here and in Ukraine, we are fighting the same enemy.”

Shelling of Kharkiv. Photo: State Emergency Service of Ukraine (SES).

Police officers, officials, and journalists from propaganda channels are abandoning their positions. Georgia’s (Sakartvelo) two largest banks have joined forces, allocating five million lari to support businesses and those affected. Small and medium-sized businesses are refusing to collaborate with the Tbilisi City Hall, removing themselves from the list of participants in the city’s Christmas market. In response, activists are compiling lists of these businesses so people can support them with their purchases. Theatres have closed, concerts are being cancelled—Georgians are buying tickets to events that won’t take place.

The Robocops and police are currently just standing on Rustaveli Avenue. It seems the authorities hope the protests will die down if they don’t actively disperse people. But the demonstrations aren’t limited to Tbilisi—protests continue across all of Georgia (Sakartvelo). ბრძოლას ყოველთვის აქვს აზრი – “The fight always has meaning.”

According to Georgian human rights advocates, over 450 people have been detained so far, and approximately 300 of them have been subjected to torture by security forces.

Supported by Mediaset.

In Ukraine's Kharkiv region, aid workers risk lives to keep residents warm

December 29, 2024 
By Anna Kosstutschenko

As harsh winter weather descends on Ukraine, UNICEF and other aid organizations are helping communities in eastern Ukraine's Kharkiv region prepare for the cold season. Many locals have lost jobs and reliable income sources because of the war and cannot afford heating. Among them is the Malakey family, whose two children have disabilities. Anna Kosstutschenko has the story. VOA footage and video editing by Pavel Suhodolskiy.

Stolen Lives: Inside Russia’s Abduction of Ukrainian Children

Returned Ukrainian children in Truskavets, Ukraine. (Provided by Aksana Filipishyna)

VERONICA NEIFAKH

MEDIALINE
12/29/2024

Nearly 20,000 Ukrainian children have been forcibly taken to Russia or occupied territories since the war began. Experts describe Russia's efforts to erase their identities and Ukraine's struggle to bring them home.

Since the outbreak of the war in 2022, nearly 20,000 Ukrainian children have been forcibly taken to Russia or Russian-occupied territories without the consent of their families, Ukrainian officials say. Independent research, including research by Yale University, suggests a policy of systemic deportation of Ukrainian youth.

The harrowing consequences of that policy became clear in January 2024, when an 18-year-old Ukrainian who had been sent to a foster family in Russia took his own life. Shortly before his death, he sent a voice message to his friends expressing his despair over the relocation.

Ukraine says these actions meet the UN’s definition of genocide and last year, the International Criminal Court issued arrest warrants for Russian President Vladimir Putin and his children’s rights commissioner, Maria Lvova-Belova, accusing them of unlawfully deporting Ukrainian children.

Russia denies these allegations. Lvova-Belova has acknowledged that 730,000 Ukrainian children fled Ukraine for Russia since the start of the war but said that most of them came with their families. She said that Russia had taken about 2,000 children from Ukrainian orphanages, but she did not mention other allegations of widespread forced displacement.

Ukrainian human rights advocates who spoke to The Media Line described a harrowing, calculated effort to undermine Ukraine’s future through the use of its youngest and most vulnerable citizens. They noted that the true extent of the abductions likely surpasses the 20,000 figure.

The Fate of Ukraine’s Abducted Children

Olena Kuvaieva, a lawyer with the Strategic Litigation Center of the Ukrainian Helsinki Human Rights Union, traced the roots of the abducted children crisis back to at least 2014, when Ukraine raised the alarm that Russia was abducting Ukrainian children from orphanages.

Olena Kuvaieva. (Courtesy)

By 2015, Russia had launched the “trains of hope” initiative, encouraging Russian citizens to travel to occupied Ukrainian territories and adopt Ukrainian children. “Ukraine raised this issue on the international stage and appealed to the European Court of Human Rights,” Kuvaieva told The Media Line, noting that those actions were carried out under the auspices of Pavel Astakhov, then the presidential envoy for children’s rights in Russia.

Russia’s own public records reveal how the policy of child relocation has taken off since the 2022 invasion. From 2022 to mid-2023, Russian authorities openly published data on government websites detailing the arrival of Ukrainian orphans in over 70 localities across 42 regions. “The geography is vast, from border regions to deep inside Russia,” Kuvaieva said, describing a deliberate dispersion of Ukrainian children across the country.

These boys, displaying pro-Ukrainian sentiments, were to be sent to such institutions in Grozny

She cited a 2023 public event where Chechen leader Ramzan Kadyrov and Putin’s envoy Maria Lvova-Belova discussed “reeducation facilities” for Ukrainian teenagers who resisted Russian assimilation. “These boys, displaying pro-Ukrainian sentiments, were to be sent to such institutions in Grozny,” the capital city of Russia’s Chechen Republic, Kuvaieva said.

Kuvaieva noted that Ukraine had tried to clear out its state-run child care institutions on the border regions leading up to the 2022 Russian invasion to prevent children from being kidnapped.

“Most children from state institutions were successfully evacuated,” Kuvaieva said. But an estimated 4,000 children remained in orphanages, foster care, or other guardianships in areas like Donetsk, Luhansk, Kherson, Zaporizhzhia, and Kharkiv. As Russia moved in, those regions saw widespread violence, civilian casualties, forced detentions, and abductions.

She pointed to the 2022 siege of Mariupol as another example of how Ukrainian children have been forcibly relocated. Before the siege, Mariupol’s civilian population was over 250,000, one-fifth of whom were children. The city’s infrastructure was almost entirely destroyed by relentless shelling and bombings, leaving 90% of it in ruins.

“When Russian forces entered the devastated city, they brought buses and systematically cleared out neighborhoods,” Kuvaieva said. Civilians were forced out of bomb shelters and basements under the threat of complete annihilation. “People were told they had 30 minutes before the area would be completely cleared—meaning everything that moved would be destroyed. Those seeking survival had no choice but to board the transport, which took them to so-called filtration camps in Russia,” she continued.

In those camps, families with children were held for three to five days under grueling conditions. Adults underwent a rigorous “filtration” process, and suspicions of pro-Ukrainian sentiment often led to devastating separations.

“If parents were found with pro-Ukrainian information on their phones, tattoos, or laptops—or identified as local officials, activists, or human rights defenders—they were immediately detained,” Kuvaieva said. Those parents’ children were separated from them and transferred to orphanages or health camps in Russia.

Kuvaieva said that the figure of 20,000 forcibly relocated children from across Ukraine is likely understated. “In Mariupol alone, where 51,000 children lived before the invasion, we suspect many remain unaccounted for—especially those whose families perished or whose parents were executed or detained by Russian forces,” she said.

Other children were vulnerable to forced relocation after being left with grandparents or other relatives when their parents joined the military or were taken prisoner, Kuvaieva said.

The fate of the abducted children varies—some remain in orphanages, others have been placed with foster families, and a significant number have been adopted within Russia. Research by Yale University and Ukrainian human rights groups confirms the widespread and systematic nature of these transfers.

Kuvaieva said her own research has found that the abductions take a serious mental toll on their victims, with the potential for lasting harm. “Children who spent extended periods in the Russian Federation endured significant psychological manipulation,” she said.

Abducted Ukrainian children are often forcibly humiliated, banned from speaking Ukrainian, and made to participate in singing Russian anthems. Ties to their families are cut off, including by confiscating their phones, and some are even confined to basements.

“Children faced punishment for expressing hope that Ukraine would return or for showing any positive sentiments toward their homeland,” Kuvaieva said. She added that many children reported being told by their captors that Ukraine had forgotten about them and that only Russia could offer them a future.

The harsh conditions left many children, particularly teenagers, vulnerable to suicidal thoughts. “These were children who remembered an independent, democratic Ukraine—where dignity and human rights mattered, where they could speak freely,” Kuvaieva said. She emphasized that the totalitarian environment was hard to tolerate for adults, let alone children.

“It’s no surprise that some were pushed to the brink,” she said.

Fast-Tracked Russian Citizenship for Ukrainian Children

Kuvaieva detailed how Russia systematically altered its citizenship laws since May 2022 in order to facilitate the integration of Ukrainian children. The most recent changes, effective January 4, 2024, allow almost any adult to apply for citizenship on behalf of a child from occupied Ukrainian territories, she said.

“This adult could be a hospital director, a school principal, the head of an orphanage, or even a temporary guardian,” Kuvaieva said. The individual merely needs to state that the child is unaccompanied and has no established connection with relatives.

“Of course, no one attempts to establish such connections or inform Ukraine about the child’s whereabouts,” Kuvaieva noted, adding that the child’s opinion is also not taken into account in the process.


This policy isn’t just about assimilation; it’s a calculated effort to erase Ukrainian identity

After the Ukrainian child is recognized as unaccompanied, Russia replaces the child’s birth certificate and makes the child eligible for adoption. “The system is designed to close the loop and make these children untraceable,” Kuvaieva said. “This policy isn’t just about assimilation; it’s a calculated effort to erase Ukrainian identity.”

Kuvaieva described the policy of child abduction as “another facet of a systematic strategy to strip Ukraine of its future by targeting its children.” “Children represent the future and hope of any nation. By erasing Ukrainian identity among these children, Russia seeks to weaken Ukraine’s future,” she said.

She added that Russia is also hoping to benefit demographically from the introduction of Ukrainian children, who are seen as “intelligent, curious, and industrious.”

The Challenges of Returning Ukraine’s Abducted Children

Ukraine wants to rescue abducted children, but so far, it hasn’t managed to do so in any large-scale way, Kuvaieva said.

“The full procedure envisioned by the Geneva Conventions has not been implemented, and this leaves us with slow progress on bringing these children back home,” she explained.

Under the Geneva Conventions, both Ukraine and Russia are obligated to create national information bureaus to document civilians displaced by war, including children. “Ukraine compiles lists of those we seek to locate and believe were unlawfully taken, while Russia is required to maintain a registry of individuals it has transferred or detained in occupied territories,” Kuvaieva said.

Ukraine’s registry, established in 2022, gathers information from sources including families, law enforcement officers, orphanage directors, and other officials.

According to the Geneva Conventions, both Ukraine and Russia were required to identify at least four trusted states to act as mediators in negotiations about returning displaced civilians. “Ideally, if both sides agreed on a mediator country, intermediary bodies would form under its auspices, potentially involving organizations like the International Red Cross or the UN,” Kuvaieva said. But this process has not been realized.

Instead, the fate of Ukraine’s children rests with various isolated efforts. “What we see are small-scale or individual cases of family reunifications, rather than the systematic return of orphans or children deprived of parental care,” Kuvaieva said.

Most cases of returned children involve families separated during the invasion, such as children who were sent to stay with grandparents in Kherson when their mother was working in Kyiv. “Very few children have been retrieved from deep within Russia—these are not hundreds but merely dozens,” Kuvaieva explained.

Aksana Filipishyna, an analyst with the Ukrainian Helsinki Human Rights Union, highlighted the involvement of international mediators in facilitating the return of abducted Ukrainian children. “Countries like Qatar, the Vatican, and South Africa have expressed willingness to assist, with Qatar already achieving some success,” she explained. But for now, the efforts of the Ukrainian Helsinki Human Rights Union have resulted in the return of just 210 children.


Returned Ukrainian children in Truskavets, Ukraine. (Provided by Aksana Filipishyna)

“Children from Mariupol, for example, were first taken to Donetsk and later moved to Moscow suburbs. Parents and guardians began reaching out to us, but retrieving children is extremely difficult,” she said.


Even mothers must gather extensive documentation to prove parental rights. Grandmothers, if the parents are deceased, are often forced to apply for guardianship under Russian law, which is absurd.

In many cases, legal hurdles arise. “Even mothers must gather extensive documentation to prove parental rights. Grandmothers, if the parents are deceased, are often forced to apply for guardianship under Russian law, which is absurd,” Filipishyna added. Getting a child back to Ukraine is even more difficult if a child had no legal guardian in Ukraine or if their documents were confiscated.

Rescuing abducted children is even more challenging when the children have been taken to Russian-occupied territories. “Occupied territories are harder to access due to military equipment and numerous checkpoints,” Filipishyna said, noting that many children fear prolonged interrogations at border crossings.

She emphasized the need for streamlined international mechanisms, as the current system places significant barriers on families trying to reunite. “It’s an incredibly challenging process that leaves many children in legal limbo, unable to return home,” she said.

For the few children who manage to return to Ukraine, vast challenges remain. These children, who sometimes have no parents to return to, undergo a careful reintegration process involving long-term psychological support upon their return to Ukraine.


Returned Ukrainian children in Truskavets, Ukraine. (Provided by Aksana Filipishyna)

Filipishyna recounted the story of one boy who was left stranded at a Russian hospital after his parents were killed during their escape from occupied territory. In another case, a 12-year-old girl was coerced into accepting Russian citizenship and witnessed the rape and murder of a childhood friend by a Russian soldier.

Even those children who don’t experience violence are deeply psychologically affected by the abduction and by having to give up their sense of being Ukrainian. “They return deeply scarred, needing to unlearn the falsehoods forced upon them and rebuild their identities,” Filipishyna said.

Born from necessity: A new Russian self propelled howitzer

December 30, 2024

The Russian army introduced a new self propelled artillery system to the Ukrainian battlefields.


Mystery SPG (Photo: mil.in.ua)

Ukrainian journal Mil.in.ua speculates that it is based on the Uraltranshmash 2S43 Malva wheeled SPG, that is basically a rear mounted 152mm A64 gun from the MSTA-S out in the open.


2S43 Malva


The new system has an independently rotating turret, but still an open turret. The layout is much closer to the Titan-Barrikady A-222 Bereg 130mm coastal artillery SPG, which has also seen combat in the Ukrainian southern front. A-222 Bereg isn’t a viable candidate for further production, as its non-standard caliber limits the available ammunition stocks and isn’t currently being produced in Russia.


A-222 Bereg

Russia is also suffering extremely hard attrition on all of its artillery systems, both from the Ukrainian counter battery fires and simply by barrels wearing out. There is a limited amount of machinery in Russia that is capable of producing a decent quality artillery barrel in the 152mm range. This limits the amount of newly built SPGs like 2S35 Koalitsiya, a replacement for the MSTA-S. MSTA-S is being phased out as its chassis is a T-80 derivative, while the Koalitsiya is based on the much easier to produce T-72/T-90 chassis.

2S35 Koalitsiya-SV

Russia is also losing vast quantities of main battle tanks of all imaginable types. The combination of refurbishing the increasingly worse tanks from the deep storage facilities and the manufacture of new T-72/T-90 tanks puts a lot of strain on both MBT parts and companies capable of working with tank systems like Uraltransmash.

On the other hand Titan-Barrikady, with its wheeled vehicle production, isn't under that heavy burden. From the industrial standpoint, it would make sense that the new SPG is a simplified and army use adapted variation of the A-222 Bereg system, that is being manufactured from available components. The Bryansk Automobile Plant is capable of producing enough base vehicles for the production and by the use of the Giazint-B barrels the new SPG also sidesteps the barrel shortage.

While the new vehicle, being based off of an older towed howitzer, is a downgrade from the more automated MSTA-S, Koalitsiya and even the Malva, it has some improvements over them too.

The new SPG has a longer range than either Malva or MSTA-S. It’s faster to deploy and more flexible to use than the Malva. It also has much better drone protection and thermal signature reduction than any of the precious Russian artillery systems.

This new SPG is the best that Russia can actually produce in meaningful numbers, under the current industrial and battlefield constraints.

Video of the system can be found on Telegram.

Xiplomacy: A glimpse of Xi's global insights through 3 maxims quoted in 2024

(Xinhua)  December 30, 2024

With those maxims, Xi reaffirmed China's commitment that the country welcomes all parties to continue riding the "express train" of its development, grow together with the Chinese economy, and jointly contribute to peaceful development, mutually beneficial cooperation, and common prosperity.

BEIJING, Dec. 28 (Xinhua) -- Throughout the year of 2024, Chinese President Xi Jinping attended three major diplomatic events hosted in China and made four significant overseas visits, consistently calling for stronger win-win cooperation to build a better world.

Esteemed a masterly communicator, Xi incorporated into his talks, speeches and articles a string of well-known Chinese and foreign maxims, which offer a unique glimpse into his international insights and global vision.


STRATEGIC INDEPENDENCE

"A man of true moral integrity is one who is both friendly but independent, and who does not compromise his principles, and who is independent without any bias or taking sides. How unflinchingly firm he is in his strength!"

In a signed article published prior to his visit to France in May, Xi quoted the saying by ancient Chinese philosopher Confucius, which was recorded in "The Doctrine of the Mean," one of the hallowed Four Books of classical Chinese philosophy.

In a conversation with one of his most faithful disciples millenniums ago, Confucius uttered those words to emphasize the importance of independence besides affability, moderation, and other virtues.

Over 2,000 years later, Confucius' teaching was echoed by French writer Romain Rolland, whose observation was also cited in Xi's article: "It is so much easier to allow oneself to be guided than it is to think for oneself. This abdication is the kernel of the mischief."

Quoting both Confucius and Rolland, the Chinese leader stressed that both China and France value independence as two major countries. French President Emmanuel Macron, for his part, has on many occasions also repeated his country's adherence to independence.

As Xi said in the article, now with the two countries standing at a new historical starting point, it is time for them to join hands to push for greater progress in bilateral relations and more benefits for the two nations and the broader world.

TRUE FRIENDS NEVER APART

The 2024 Summit of the Forum on China-Africa Cooperation (FOCAC), held in Beijing in September, marked a significant milestone in China-Africa relations.

In his toast at the welcoming banquet of the summit, Xi quoted a Chinese poem written by Tang Dynasty poet Zhang Jiuling: "True friends always feel close to each other, no matter the distance between them."

Reflecting on his heartwarming interactions with African leaders over the years, Xi commended the enduring China-Africa bond. "China-Africa friendship remains robust and is growing stronger through generations, no matter how the world changes," he said.

"The China-Africa community with a shared future is deeply rooted in our traditional friendship. Since the mid-20th century, we have been fighting shoulder to shoulder imperialism, colonialism, and hegemonism, and advancing hand in hand along the path of development, revitalization, and modernization," Xi noted.

The following day, in his keynote speech at the summit's opening ceremony, Xi referred to an African proverb: "A friend is someone you share the path with," highlighting that no country should be left behind on the journey to modernization.

During the summit, China proposed 10 partnership actions to be implemented over the next three years, and forged or elevated strategic partnerships with 30 African countries, underscoring its commitment to further deepening cooperation and friendship with Africa.

TOWARD SHARED PROSPERITY TOGETHER

"A man of virtue, while establishing himself and pursuing success, also works to help others establish themselves and succeed," Xi said at the 31st APEC Economic Leaders' Meeting in Lima, citing Confucius. Then he continued to quote a similar Latin American adage: "The only way to be profitably national is to be generously universal."

With those maxims, Xi reaffirmed China's commitment that the country welcomes all parties to continue riding the "express train" of its development, grow together with the Chinese economy, and jointly contribute to peaceful development, mutually beneficial cooperation, and common prosperity.

As he pointed out, the third plenary session of the 20th Communist Party of China Central Committee, held earlier this year, laid out systematic plans to advance Chinese modernization, which will not only boost China's development but provide new opportunities for the Asia-Pacific region and the world at large.

Over the past decades since it adopted the policy of reform and opening up, China has made remarkable progress. Now as the world's second-largest economy, it has been actively working with its global partners to boost shared development.

Addressing the conference marking the 70th anniversary of the Five Principles of Peaceful Coexistence in June, Xi referred to three maxims from different cultures to urge the international community, particularly the Global South, to work together in pursuit of shared prosperity.

Besides the Latin American one he mentioned months later at the APEC meeting, a Chinese saying goes, "The benevolent treat others with love, and the wise share with others benefits," and an Arab proverb teaches, "With unity, the fire grows; without unity, the fire extinguishes."

"In the era of economic globalization," Xi stressed at the event, "what is needed is not gaps of division but bridges of communication, not iron curtains of confrontation but highways of cooperation."

(Web editor: Zhang Kaiwei, Zhong Wenxing)

Chinese youth flock to civil service, but slow economy puts ‘iron rice bowl’ jobs at risk
Students attending a job fair in Hefei, in eastern China's Anhui province. 

PHOTO: AFP

UPDATED Dec 30, 2024, 

BEIJING – A record 3.4 million young Chinese flocked to the civil service exam in 2024, lured by the prospect of lifetime job security and perks including subsidised housing as an economic slowdown batters the private sector and youth unemployment remains high.

Applicant numbers, which surged by more than 400,000 from 2023 and have tripled since 2014, reflect the huge demand for stability from disillusioned Gen Z Chinese and the lack of attractive options in the private sector even though local governments are struggling to pay wages due to a fiscal crisis.

Ms Klaire, a master’s student in Beijing, took the notoriously competitive exam in early December, studying for nine hours a day and spending 980 yuan (S$180) on online tutoring.

She cited social prestige and stability as major factors to why she was applying only for government or state-owned enterprise jobs. Ms Klaire has also seen colleagues get laid off during a previous tech internship.

“I only want to pass the exam and not worry about what happens next,” said the 24-year-old, withholding her surname for privacy reasons.

“Despite personally knowing civil servants who haven’t been paid for months, I still applied because I don’t wish to make lots of money.”

If she passes the exam, she will have a further interview as well as political background and physical checks, with the final outcome expected around April.

Layoffs are rare in China’s civil service, earning it the “iron rice bowl” moniker, though individuals can be dismissed for disciplinary violations.

Associate Professor Alfred Wu from the National University of Singapore said: “The current leadership has no intent of reducing the size of public sector workers, who are the backbone of regime stability.”

Most civil service openings have an age limit of 35 and offer subsidised housing and social insurance, a major attraction for graduates disillusioned by the paucity of private sector job opportunities.

Youth unemployment rates, which fell slightly in recent months, remain elevated compared with pre-pandemic figures as China’s economy struggles to recover amid a prolonged property sector crisis and frail consumption.

Many Gen Z Chinese “feel a strong sense of burnout and don’t know what is meaningful” after having their university years defined by the pandemic and China’s economic slowdown, said a Chinese sociology professor on condition of anonymity.

As the present generation of Chinese graduates have not experienced the mass state sector layoffs of the 90s, many have an idealised view of government work, he said, noting an apt summation in a social media meme: “Becoming a civil servant is the endpoint of the universe”.

But rare interviews with ten public sector employees across four Chinese provinces paint a different picture: widespread bonus reductions and pay cuts of up to 30 per cent in 2024 have prompted some to consider resigning, while local government austerity drives have led to sporadic staff cuts.

Some civil servants say they have been unpaid for months. Others survive on as little as 4,000 yuan monthly while supporting families and paying off loans. Many asked for anonymity to avoid retribution.

Despite these obvious woes, high nationwide youth unemployment has fed strong demand for civil service roles, which have surged from 2019’s 14,500 to 39,700 in 2024.

Ms Katherine Lin quit her civil service job in the southern megacity of Shenzhen in July after her 15,000 yuan salary dropped by a quarter, bonuses were scrapped and managers hinted at further downsizing.

“Some departments chose to either cut salaries by 30 per cent or fire people in response to cost-cutting policies,” she said.

At least three Shenzhen district-level bureaux were merged, and nine employees dismissed in 2024, public notices show.

In her housing bureau role, she handled an unprecedented number of migrant worker protests in December 2023, when they normally demand wages before Chinese New Year.

Another civil servant in rural Guangdong province described his salary of 4,000 yuan as “stable poverty” after monthly bonuses of 1,000 yuan stopped in June.

In Shandong, civil servants complained on social media in September about being paid only one month per quarter, part of a policy called “guarantee four (months’ salary), strive for six”.

The State Council and Shenzhen government did not reply to faxed requests for comment.

Downsizing pressure

Beijing has long-faced calls to reform its bloated state sector.

Despite repeated downsizing campaigns, China’s civil service jobs swelled from 6.9 million in 2010 to eight million currently, with at least a further 31 million public employees such as school and hospital workers who have fewer employment protections than civil servants.

Chinese provinces have quietly cut tens of thousands of public sector positions since 2020, mostly through hiring reductions and attrition.

Wage arrears are “systematic and universal across the country, and are impossible to solve substantially in the short term”, said a governance professor at an elite Chinese university on condition of anonymity, adding that this could increase corruption as officials supplement their salaries through tips and bribes, as well as increased administrative fines for citizens.

“The most pressing issue now is social stability,” the professor said. “Therefore, the lesser of two evils will cause the expansion of civil service hiring and the neglect of institutional reform.”

REUTERS

UK

'There aren't enough jobs to go round for everyone'

Sarah-May Buccieri
BBC News

30/12/2024

James Harrison
James Harrison believes the graduate job market is "overly saturated"

Law graduate James Harrison left university with high hopes of landing a role in the sector he trained for.

But reality soon sank in, as James's inbox became littered with no's from legal roles to coffee shop work.

In November seven million people watched James's video on Instagram detailing his rejection from a role as a barista.

"Nine out of 10 people I know didn't enter a role within nine months of graduating," James explained.

During his struggle to find a job, James started posting online with advice and tips about life after university.

"It went a bit crazy," James laughed.

James thought the viral video was slightly controversial and it received a mixed reaction.

"A lot of people said I shouldn't feel entitled to get a job just because I have a degree whilst a lot of other people are said they were in the same position," James said.




The 22-year-old started his law degree at The University of Lincoln in 2020 and graduated in 2023.

"It was extremely hard, I took a year out to focus on applications," he said.

Applying for roles became a daily routine; from applications, tests and video interviews, he became immersed in finding a job.

But he was getting turned down for everything.

'Overly saturated'


James believes the sparkle of degrees has faded a little and they are now "overly saturated".

"Thousands of people are leaving university with great experience and amazing grades.

"There are not enough jobs to go round for everyone."

"I'd gone through three years of a law degree and got experience at law firms," he added.

James Harrison
James hopes to normalise rejection after university

Data from the ONS shows the number of graduates aged 21-30 in highly skilled jobs has fallen from 61.7% in 2022 to 60.4% in 2023.

Stephen Isherwood, joint-CEO at the Institute of Student Employers, said it had always been a challenge to land a graduate job.

Mr Isherwood said many students experienced a "wake-up call" when leaving university as course places often did not correlate to the amount of industry positions.

"The number of applications students are making means there's a lot more competition for jobs," Mr Isherwood explained.

"Most employers do not limit who can apply, which means more students can apply for jobs, which means more students will be rejected," he added.

After a 15-month job search James secured a role as a paralegal at a law firm in Hull.

He still posts on social media, in the hope of helping people who are in his position and feel "lost".

"Social media paints this picture with law where you go to university and you come out with a training contract," he said.

He advises graduates struggling to find roles to "not take rejection personally".

"Take it in your stride."