The village of Shatili squats on the northern slope of the Greater
Caucasus mountains in Georgia. Even today the area is considered
isolated and remote but in centuries past the villagers could not rely
on distant authorities to afford them protection. In early medieval
times the villagers hit on a solution which was to shield them from
their enemies for hundreds of years. They made their village in to a
fortress.
The village is very near the border with Chechnya and its inhabitants
were constantly at risk from incursions in to their territory from their
neighbors. In the twenty first century the village is usually only
accessible between the months of June and the end of September so in
more feudal times something had to be done to avert death and disaster.
As the village persevered, the architecture evolved. What would
normally be small stone dwellings grew taller and developed in to
watchtowers.
Instead of a wooden roof these watchtower come domiciles became
flat-roofed to avoid assault by fiery arrows. New buildings were built
on terraces close to old ones so eventually the village encircled itself
in stone, structures staggered from the outside in. It became a single
fortification, each house could not withstand much outside pressure but
became one component in a long and twisting chain. Like some
architectural gestalt, the combination proved a worthy defense system
with the whole much stronger that its individual components.
The village effectively became a fortress, standing guard over the
north-eastern border of Georgia. There was good need. Even as recently
as the eighteenth century the village was attacked by a force of
thousands of Chechens and Dagestan warriors.An impression of this
assault by Georgian artist Gigo Gabashvili (1862 - 1936) is below,
although it was painted a century after the seige. The second picture is
by Shalva Kikodze (1895-1921) and is a contemporary (if expressionist)
painting of the inhabitants of Shatili.
Its inhabitants, the Khevsureti, endured and become legendary as
highland soldiers who epitomised the traditional Georgian qualities of
bravery, sincerity and righteousness, community, objectivity and love of
autonomy and independence.
When the enemy did attack, the villagers simply disappeared from the
streets and the village closed itself down. Each house was connected
with others via ladders or windows and movement was possible out of
sight of antagonistic fire. You can still see how it was (probably)
done today.
There was plenty to eat even after the village was sealed. The houses
extended to four or five storeys. On each level a different kind of
livestock would be kept. The top floor was the living area for the
family and the only one with anything more than tiny slits for windows.
Even the tombs, large enough to house generations of one family, seemed
built to be impregnable. Governance of Shatili was communal. There was a
single building called the Sapekhyno which was empty but for stone
chairs. Here village elders would discuss the issues at hand but all
were expected to join in and have their say – even the children.
However, one thing was kept from the children – as it was from any new
daughter-in-laws that had only recently joined the community. The
livestock which would be used in any siege was evident to the eye – one
only had to set foot in to one of the houses to hear them. But what of
water? A secret copper tank contained enough for the village for a
week.
Sadly, the village could not withstand the tidal wave of twentieth
century political dogma. The very qualities which had sustained the
Khevsureti for so long were looked upon with suspicion and considered
potentially very dangerous by the soviet authorities. Although the
country had been invaded and taken over by the Red Army in 1929, it was
only during the Stalinist period that the issue of the Khevsureti would
be fully addressed.
In the early 1950s the villagers were
persuaded to leave their
ancestral home. They and their kin had lived there for an estimated
thirteen hundred years but the tower blocks of the Georgian capital
Tbilisi were to be their new home, 140 kilometers away. Yet culture and
a sense of belonging to a region cannot be easily displaced or
destroyed. In the 1980s when the communist stranglehold lessened about
twenty families returned back home to Shatili.
Georgia ultimately declared itself independent from the collapsing USSR
in 1991. Even though this would lead to civil war and political turmoil
in the country for year, returning to Shatili must have something been
like a restoration of peace for these families. Georgia and Russia have
what might be conservatively called frosty relations. Its proximity to
the border of Chechnya (which is a republic of Russia) even today leaves
Shatili potentially exposed to invasion.
Despite its remoteness the village has become something of a destination
for trekkers and tourists (when the climate allows) and slowly but
surely the villagers of Shatili who returned are restoring their homes.
Although you can forget mobile phone calls, there is internet access in
the few hotels which have been opened there. Yet this, surely, is one
place you would go to get away from the net and modern life in general?
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