The spark of turmoil often comes from a single social event. In Georgia, separatist forces, firmly controlling television stations and newspapers, launched a fierce propaganda offensive. They lambasted Moscow's decision to revoke Ukraine and Belarus's United Nations seats—an issue not even connected to Georgia. Yet, they twisted it into a sharp critique of Soviet ethnic policies, dredging up Yanaev's controversial constitutional amendments to fan the flames of discontent.
One Georgian newspaper went so far as to quote Lenin's 1922 work, On the National Question or on "Automation", cherry-picking lines to bolster their narrative:"Historical practice tells us that it is almost always the people of our large nation who are at fault – we have inflicted countless violence and humiliation on small nations, sometimes even unconsciously."
But these agitators conveniently ignored that Lenin's policies were rigorously enforced throughout the Soviet era. The Russian Soviet Federative Socialist Republic, predominantly Russian, suffered worse hardships than Russians elsewhere in the USSR. Russia generated vast material wealth—more than enough to uplift the ethnic borderlands, including Georgia. The Georgians were, in fact, beneficiaries of decades of Soviet development. Yet, blinded by bitterness, these separatists behaved like ungrateful wolves, demanding the complete expulsion of Russians from Georgian soil.
The media's relentless distortion swayed public opinion dangerously. With no press restrictions, they attacked Soviet national policies mercilessly, labeling Yanaev a pagan despot, a chauvinistic tyrant, and a typical Soviet bureaucrat. The Georgian public seemed to forget the real injustice suffered by Belarus and Ukraine.
A strange paradox emerged: Georgians, detached from the UN seat controversy, grew even more agitated than Ukrainians and Belarusians. Fueled by nationalist provocateurs, the city soon bristled with unrest.
Just after dawn on December 13, around two hundred young students from Tbilisi University began assembling before the Georgian Party Central Building. They carried banners denouncing the Moscow Central Committee's decision and expressing fury at Yanaev's policies.
Some posters portrayed Yanaev as a monstrous figure: ruthless, cruel, distorted—"The brutal Russian tsar who rules only through repression," they claimed. "This is Georgia—Communists, get out of our land!"
Chants and slogans rose like wildfire. The student leader climbed atop Lenin's statue and battered it with a stick, rallying the crowd to resist the Soviet regime. The mass energy was intoxicating. The students, filled with righteous indignation, saw themselves as victims of Soviet oppression.
"Tear down the statue of Lenin—the symbol of this evil regime!" someone shouted. The cry spread instantly. They found a rope, lassoed the statue's neck, and pulled with all their might. The bronze figure, once poised with an outstretched arm symbolizing a hopeful future, crashed to the ground amid cheers. Students climbed atop the fallen monument, jeering and making crude gestures, basking in their symbolic triumph over communism.
The heavy clang of the statue hitting the earth seemed to echo a mournful sigh from a bygone era, lamenting the ignorance of this new generation.
By 10:25, the crowd had swelled to over 500, yet oddly, no Ministry of Internal Affairs troops intervened. No police officers were in sight. Perhaps memories of the 1989 Tbilisi events still made authorities wary of harsh crackdowns.
Meanwhile, President Zviad Gamsakhurdia appeared on television. Son of the celebrated Georgian writer Gamsakhurdia Sr., he had been crowned a martyr of the democratic movement since 1988. Now, as self-styled President of Georgia, he was portrayed as the nation's savior.
The cameraman gave him the go-ahead, and Zviad launched into a polished political speech. He began by praising the students' quest for democracy and freedom before pivoting sharply against the Soviet Union.
"Dear compatriots," he declared, "we must not remain part of this communist empire called the Soviet Union. After World War I, the Russian Empire collapsed. After World War II, the communist empire was shaken. After the Third World War, it will fall completely. This empire is doomed—its collapse inevitable. When it falls, humanity will breathe freely."
"The Georgian Soviet Socialist Republic must no longer exist. What must live is Georgia—restored to its rightful sovereignty, free from the chains of Russian imperialism. We demand an immediate withdrawal of Russian troops and abolition of their privileges on our soil. The United Nations must deploy peacekeepers here to guarantee our safety. Georgia's future lies within NATO, under the banner of democracy and human rights championed by the United States. An independent Georgia will model itself after these ideals. Our struggle is nearing victory, and the world will stand with us against the red terror of empire."
"I call on all Georgians to unite and fight for our liberation to the very end!"
Zviad's shameless pandering to the West played out on live television, yet he carried himself with an arrogant pride, as though basking in the limelight was his divine right.
His speech further ignited the student crowd, now more emboldened to rampage. Stones and shards smashed the windows of the Party Central Building, halting its daily operations. Staff inside fled through a back exit.
The rioters gloated over their so-called victory, behaving like performers in a grotesque play, trampling decades of Soviet accomplishments underfoot. Their destructive zeal was hollow—mere opposition for opposition's sake. Their confused fanaticism was dragging Georgia toward chaos.
The Soviet presence in Georgia now faced its gravest trial yet.