
There are dates that live not only in history books but in the very heartbeat of a nation. April 9, 1989, is one of those days for Georgia—a day of pain, resistance, and national awakening.
That morning, Rustaveli Avenue in Tbilisi became a battlefield not of armies, but of people versus power. Thousands of peaceful Georgian citizens—many of them students and women—gathered to demand independence from Soviet rule, to speak out against the oppression that had long shadowed their country.
But their voices were met with violence. The Soviet Army, acting on direct orders from Moscow, unleashed brutality unlike anything Tbilisi had seen in modern times. With tanks, sharpened spades, and poison gas, soldiers attacked unarmed civilians. Twenty-one lives were lost that day—most of them young women—while hundreds more were injured.
This isn’t just a paragraph from a textbook for me. My uncle was there, standing shoulder to shoulder with other Georgians. He told me how young girls stood in silence, holding flags, while armored vehicles rolled toward them. "I saw it with my own eyes," he said, "how bare hands stood up to tanks. We had no weapons—just courage."
The tragedy of April 9 became a turning point in Georgia’s path to independence. But it also exposed a deeper truth that resonates even today: Russia is not just a neighbor—it has historically been Georgia’s oppressor. From the Tsarist annexation, to Soviet occupation, and now to modern hybrid warfare and creeping occupation, Russia has consistently tried to control Georgia’s fate.
Today, the same imperial ambitions cast their shadow once more. The Georgian people, however, remain defiant—protesting, resisting, and speaking out, just as they did in 1989. We know what freedom feels like. We’ve seen what it costs. And we are not going back.
April 9 is not just a date—it’s a reminder. Of our resilience, of our identity, and of our continued struggle to break free from the grip of Russian influence. Georgia has chosen Europe, chosen liberty, and we are still fighting for it—peacefully, but proudly.
Let no one forget: the tanks came once, and they could come again. But so will the people.