This article examines the interrelationship between historical revisionism, memory politics, and disinformation influence in the Georgian context. Its central finding is that Russia’s contemporary information strategy is not limited to disseminating individual false narratives; it seeks to reshape the very interpretive frameworks through which society evaluates sovereignty, occupation, Western integration, and democratic institutions. Protecting historical memory, ensuring open archives, and providing evidence-based education therefore extend beyond the bounds of general cultural policy and become foundations of national security, democratic resilience, and “mental de-occupation.”
Introduction
Russia’s contemporary disinformation system should not be understood merely as a collection of false narratives, trolls, or isolated propaganda campaigns. It is a state-organized political and security infrastructure that combines intelligence, psychological influence, cyber operations, state media, proxy actors, and historical narratives. History performs a particular function within this system: a selectively processed past provides the Russian regime with a language through which aggression is presented as self-defence, imperial control as the restoration of “historical unity,” and the sovereign choices of neighbouring countries as interventions inspired by external powers [1; 6].
For Georgia, this problem is particularly acute. Russia’s annexation, the Soviet occupation of 1921, Stalinist terror, the conflicts of the 1990s, the 2008 war, and the continuing occupation constitute a historical experience whose interpretation is directly connected to the country’s present-day foreign and domestic political choices. By entrenching its own narratives, the Kremlin seeks to diminish Russia’s responsibility and portray Georgia’s European course not as a sovereign decision of its citizens, but as a foreign project threatening peace, tradition, and identity.
Such influence is most effective when the message does not come directly from Moscow. It may be communicated in the language of the government, a local politician, a media outlet, a religious figure, an “expert,” an anonymous page, or a socially familiar symbol. An interpretation formed externally may then appear to be local “common sense,” a conservative value, or an alternative analysis. Assessing Russian influence solely by searching for organizational links is therefore insufficient; attention must also be paid to the narrative’s strategic function and the effects it produces in Georgia.
1. History, Disinformation, and Memory Politics: An Analytical Framework
Disinformation involves the deliberate dissemination of false or misleading information, although contemporary information operations often do not require wholly fabricated facts. A real event may be removed from its context, the chain of responsibility may be truncated, documents may be published selectively, different periods may be linked anachronistically, and the audience may be guided toward a predetermined conclusion. Historical disinformation is therefore often not a simple denial of facts, but a rearrangement of them that presents the aggressor as the victim, occupation as voluntary integration, and resistance as provocation [1].
The RAND Corporation’s concept of the “Firehose of Falsehood” is frequently used to describe the Russian propaganda model: a high volume of messages, simultaneous use of multiple channels, rapid repetition, indifference to factual accuracy, and the parallel dissemination of mutually contradictory versions [2]. The purpose of such a propaganda strategy is not necessarily to establish one specific lie. It is often enough for citizens to conclude that the truth cannot be determined, that all sides manipulate equally, and that evidence-based reasoning is pointless. In such an environment, an authoritarian actor can establish its version as “one possible truth.”
This model is rooted in the legacy of Soviet “active measures.” Soviet security services used forged documents, conspiracy theories, covert support for foreign political movements, and the deepening of existing divisions within societies. In the Putin era, the same logic has been adapted to the internet, social networks, and algorithmic dissemination. Research into the organizational culture of Russia Today, Russia’s official propaganda media outlet, likewise demonstrates that successful propaganda does not always require adherence to a single ideological line; it is sufficient to deliver contradictory messages to different audiences in ways that intensify distrust and political chaos [3].
In the context of historical disinformation, memory politics represents a deeper layer of this process. It determines how a state or society selects events, whom it designates as a hero or victim, what it conceals, and what it teaches in schools. In a democratic environment, historical memory is the subject of pluralistic research and debate. Under authoritarian rule, however, the past is transformed into official mythology: the authorities use it not only to justify current policies, but also to define the boundaries of historical truth.
2. Russia’s Memory Politics
After the collapse of the Soviet Union, the Russian authorities no longer possessed a universal ideology comparable to Marxism-Leninism. In its place, an eclectic worldview gradually emerged, combining imperial statehood, Orthodox conservatism, nostalgia for Soviet military power, and an image of Russia as a civilization permanently besieged by the West. The narrative of the “Great Patriotic War” became the central pillar of this system, presenting victory over Nazism not only as a historical achievement but also as a source of contemporary Russia’s exceptional moral status.
The sacralization of victory enables the regime to present itself as the legitimate heir to the Soviet triumph and to associate political opponents with “fascism,” “Nazism,” or historical betrayal. The Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact, the occupation of Eastern Europe, the Katyn massacre, deportations, Stalinist repression, and the responsibility of the Soviet leadership at the beginning of the war disappear from this picture. Complex history is replaced by a morally divided world in which Russia is always the liberator, while its opponent is either an heir to Nazism or a falsifier of historical truth.
This model of state memory is also consolidated through law. Russia’s “memory laws” allow the regime to present critical assessments of the Second World War and Soviet actions as conduct directed against national dignity, patriotism, or security.
The significance of the Kremlin’s memory politics became particularly clear during its military aggression against Ukraine. The declaration that Ukrainians and Russians are “one people,” the portrayal of Ukrainian statehood as an artificial project, and the demand for “denazification” are the principal historical narratives on which the Putin regime has relied in its domestic and international information campaigns to justify the war.
The European Parliament’s resolution of 23 January 2025 assessed Russia’s falsification of history specifically as an instrument of aggressive war and imperial policy. The resolution does not, however, treat the war against Ukraine as an isolated event; it connects it to Russia’s broader imperial practice, including the 2008 military aggression against Georgia [6]. The Council of Europe’s Observatory on History Teaching in Europe likewise emphasizes that the manipulation of history directly affects education policy, public memory, and democratic resilience [7].
3. Archives, the Memorial Society, and the Struggle over Memory
Countering the instrumentalization and revision of history cannot be limited to refuting individual myths. A democratic infrastructure of memory is required: open archives, academic freedom, modern history education, commemoration of victims, and access to archival documents and materials. An archive is not merely a historian’s workspace; it is an infrastructure of evidence through which society can investigate a violent past and compare and reassess state-sponsored narratives against documentary material.
Control over archives serves several strategic functions in post-Soviet societies. First, closed collections create an evidentiary vacuum. When documents concerning terror, executions, deportations, agent surveillance, and party decisions are inaccessible, a one-dimensional representation of the Soviet past is more easily established. Conversely, open archives disrupt a “memory without violence” — a nostalgic image in which free education exists without repression, employment without censorship, order without fear, and victory without occupation.
Archives also make the operation of the local repressive apparatus visible. The Soviet system was not governed from Moscow alone; it relied on republican elites, party functionaries, security-service officers, agent-informants, and career networks. Restricting access to archives therefore often protects not only a defunct regime but also its social and symbolic legacy. A society that does not know how local collaboration operated or how networks of power survived the post-Soviet transformation is more vulnerable to the return of old authoritarian methods in new forms.
In this respect, the Russian authorities’ campaign against the non-governmental organization Memorial is symbolic. Established in 1987, the organization collected records concerning the victims of Stalinist terror, the history of the Gulag, execution lists, and deportations; it later also investigated contemporary political prisoners and human rights violations. Memorial was dangerous to Putin’s memory politics because, through specific archival documents, it demonstrated the connection between the totalitarian past and contemporary state violence. Its liquidation and subsequent persecution should be understood as an attempt to restore the state’s monopoly over history.
For this reason, closing archives is not the “protection” of the past but the control of the present. A citizen who understands the totalitarian experience through documentary evidence is better able to recognize the construction of an enemy image, the criminalization of criticism, media censorship, the purpose behind entrenching the narrative of “foreign agents” in society, and the use of courts as political instruments.
4. Georgia: Competing Memories and the Localization of Imperial Narratives
In independent Georgia, historical memory is one of the principal arenas in which the country’s geopolitical identity is defined. One model views Georgian history as a process of liberation from Russian imperial and Soviet domination: the annexation of 1801, the occupation of 1921, political repression, national resistance, and the restoration of independence form a single anti-colonial historical trajectory. Within this model, European integration is not a geopolitical whim, but a historical continuation of sovereignty and democratic development.
The second model approaches relations with Russia from a paternalistic or nostalgic perspective. According to this view, the Russian Empire and the Soviet Union provided Georgia with security, economic development, and cultural recognition, while conflicts resulted from the “unreasonable” or “provocative” actions of Georgian leaders. Nutsa Batiashvili’s research demonstrates that this contest over memory politics in Georgia is directly linked to public disputes concerning national identity, political elites, and attitudes toward Russia [10].
Russian and pro-Russian propaganda exploits precisely these existing contradictions. In Georgia, the Soviet period is associated simultaneously with mass repression, the persecution of the Church, the destruction of the intelligentsia, and the loss of political freedom, but also with memories of urbanization, education, social stability, and industrial development. Nostalgia does not in itself amount to a “pro-Russian” political position. Selective memory, however — in which social welfare is discussed separately from the violent system that produced it — creates favourable ground for justifying authoritarian order.
Accordingly, an important feature of localized propaganda in Georgia is the “whitewashing” of history. An actor disseminating Russian propaganda may have no direct ties to Russian state structures and may even criticize Russia’s military aggression, while still repeating key Kremlin narratives: the West is planning war; the European Union threatens traditions and Orthodoxy; non-governmental organizations are agents of foreign powers; democratic protest is an externally directed coup; and criticism of Russia is irresponsible conduct contrary to economic interests. The strategic effect of these narratives is to diminish trust between Georgia and the West and establish permanent self-restraint toward Russia as “pragmatism” [6].
5. Russian Historical Propaganda: 1801, 1921, and Stalin’s Legacy
The general mechanisms discussed in the preceding chapter assume a tangible form in specific historical narratives. The localization of Russian imperial narratives in Georgia, and the two competing models of historical memory, are especially visible in interpretations of events connected to the loss of Georgian statehood and the Soviet legacy. This chapter therefore focuses on the terminology used for the events of 1801 and 1921 and on the figure of Stalin — three pivotal subjects whose reworking transforms violent subjugation into voluntary choice and terror into a source of state strength in public perception.
According to the Russian imperial narrative, Georgia’s incorporation into Russia was a voluntary “accession” that saved the country from its traditional regional enemies. This account erases the abolition of the Kingdom of Kartli-Kakheti, the removal of the Bagrationi dynasty, the abolition of the autocephaly of the Georgian Church, the suppression of political resistance, and the process of Russification. The term “accession” converts political violence into a technical administrative change and presents the empire’s destruction of sovereign state institutions as a voluntary choice [18].
A similar information struggle surrounds the terminology used for the events of 1921. “The establishment of Soviet power” or “Sovietization” may sound like a neutral domestic process, whereas “occupation” emphasizes the Red Army’s conquest of the internationally recognized Democratic Republic of Georgia and the violent abolition of its independence. This is not merely a terminological dispute: terminology determines the roles of aggressor and victim, legal responsibility, and whether the present occupation is understood as a continuation of a long-term imperial policy.
Another contradictory symbol within Georgia’s historical memory is the figure of Joseph Stalin. Russian state propaganda rehabilitates him as a strong ruler, the architect of industrialization, and the principal organizer of victory over Nazism, while diminishing his responsibility for mass terror, deportations, and the imprisonment and deaths of millions, or presenting these crimes as a “necessary price.” In Georgia, Stalin’s ethnic origin adds an additional national emotion to this myth: “the Georgian who ruled a global empire” may become an object of local pride.
Such heroization obscures a historical paradox: the system created by Stalin subjected Georgia’s national movement, Church, cultural elite, and thousands of citizens to mass terror. In a 2012 CRRC survey, a significant share of respondents simultaneously acknowledged Stalin’s responsibility for the deaths of millions and regarded him as a wise and strong leader [11]. This contradiction in perception demonstrates that factual knowledge does not automatically neutralize the myth of authoritarian strength. Moral and institutional reflection is also necessary: what value does a “strong state” have if it treats the lives and freedoms of its citizens as insignificant?
Unfortunately, Georgia’s institutional reckoning with the Soviet past remains fragmented. Transitional justice, archival openness, education, and respect for victims of repression have not been fully consolidated into a coherent state policy [9]. As a result, documentary knowledge is often displaced by family memories, political rhetoric, or nostalgic cultural images of the Soviet period. This creates a space in which the distinction between occupation and “modernization,” repression and “order,” state violence and the myth of national success becomes blurred.
6. The 2008 War and the Reworking of Historical Responsibility
While the “reworking of history” concerning 1801 and 1921 conceals the historical foundations of Russian imperial expansion, interpretations of the 2008 war extend the same mechanism into recent history. In this case, historical revisionism merges directly with contemporary security discourse: the truncation of chronology, removal of context, and transfer of responsibility to the victim are used both to justify Russia’s military intervention and to entrench self-restraint of thought in Georgia.
The August 2008 war became one of the principal testing grounds for Russian disinformation. The official Russian narrative presented the war as an unexpected attack initiated by Georgia, to which Moscow responded in order to protect its citizens and peacekeepers. The terms “genocide,” “humanitarian intervention,” and “enforcement of peace” were widely used. The central manipulative device within this framework is to present the history of the war as beginning only on the night of 7–8 August, thereby rendering invisible years of military, political, and economic intervention, support for separatist regimes, and the mass distribution of Russian passports. This disinformation technique extracts a single element from a complex sequence and uses it to construct the context required by Russia.
That this interpretation of the historical narrative served a strategic purpose for Russia is also demonstrated by the fact that it was articulated at the level of the President of the Russian Federation. In statements on Georgian history made in 2008 and 2019, Putin advanced claims that Georgia had voluntarily joined Russia, that Abkhazia had entered the empire as an independent political entity, and that the inclusion of the Tskhinvali region within Georgia’s administrative space had been artificial.
The domestic political effect of this narrative is as important as its international effect. It entrenches fatalism in Georgia: a Western course is presented as automatically leading to war, resistance to Russia as hopeless, and the violation of territorial integrity as a consequence of Georgia’s own mistakes. The focus of responsibility is thereby shifted from the aggressor to the victim, and the central security principle becomes not the defence of sovereignty but the need to “avoid provoking” Russia.
7. After 2022: The War in Ukraine and the Reworking of Georgia’s Historical Memory
Following Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine, the Kremlin’s historical propaganda acquired renewed content in the Georgian context. Whereas Russia’s memory politics had previously sought to present the annexation of 1801 as “voluntary accession,” the occupation of 1921 as “Sovietization,” and the 2008 war as a conflict provoked by the Georgian side, after 2022 the interpretation of the war in Ukraine was added to these historical frameworks. The ongoing aggression against Ukraine was thereby transformed from an isolated event into part of the same narrative system — one that denies Russia’s responsibility for initiating military aggression, presents the victim state’s sovereign choice as a provocation, and identifies cooperation with the West as a cause of war.
According to messages disseminated by the Kremlin, Ukraine was incited by the West, NATO “forced” Russia into war, and Western partners used Ukraine for their geopolitical purposes before ultimately abandoning it. The Georgian adaptation of this version offers a reinterpretation of Georgia’s historical experience: the 2008 war is no longer to be understood as the result of Russia’s long-term imperial policy and military intervention, but as an example of what happens to a small state when it places excessive trust in the West and fails to take Russia’s interests adequately into account. The principal lesson of aggression within Georgia’s collective memory is thus altered: awareness of the threat emanating from Russia is replaced by the idea that the main sources of danger are a pro-Western orientation, resistance to Russia, and an independent foreign-policy choice.
This reworking of memory directly continues the practice of transferring responsibility discussed in the previous chapter. The trauma of the 2008 war is used not to critically assess Russian policy, but to establish fatalism: confrontation with Russia always ends in catastrophe, Western support is unreliable, and the country’s security can be preserved only by “avoiding the provocation” of Russia. Historical experience ceases to help society identify threats and understand the causes of aggression; it is transformed into a fear-based political instrument that teaches citizens to refrain from sovereign choices and accept an asymmetry of power.
The “second front” narrative has articulated this logic of instrumentalizing historical memory in its clearest form. According to it, the West and Ukraine are seeking to force Georgia into a war against Russia, while international criticism of the government results from its refusal to participate in this plan. The narrative derives its credibility from Georgia’s genuine military trauma — the 2008 war, occupation, and fear of a possible new conflict. As a result, the natural desire for peace is transformed into a resource of political influence: any criticism relating to democracy, elections, human rights, civil society, or foreign policy is presented not as part of the country’s institutional development, but as an attempt to provoke war [14].
The conspiracy theory of a “Global War Party” belongs to the same framework. It portrays a vague and omnipotent Western elite as the single controlling force behind international institutions, non-governmental organizations, the opposition, the media, and individual states. This narrative is important for memory politics because it unites past and present events within a single conspiratorial scheme: colour revolutions, the 2008 war, the war against Ukraine, Georgia’s European integration, and Western criticism of the government are all presented as components of the same covert plan.
Such interpretations gradually reduce Russia’s role in Georgia’s historical memory to a secondary one. Russia — which has repeatedly constrained Georgian statehood, conquered the country, established military control over its territories, and continues the occupation to this day — is no longer presented as the principal source of historical threat. Instead, the West, the European Union, NATO, and domestic democratic actors are portrayed as posing an equal or greater threat to Georgia’s sovereignty. The distinction between aggressor and partner, military occupation and political criticism, violent coercion and democratic development is consequently erased.
Accordingly, narratives about the war in Ukraine that have circulated in Georgia since 2022 are not merely disinformation-based interpretations of current events. They are a mechanism of intervention in Georgia’s memory politics, assigning new meaning to the historical experiences of 1921 and 2008, diminishing Russia’s responsibility, and transforming Western integration from a guarantee of security into a source of national threat. The ultimate purpose of this process is not necessarily to convince society that Russia is a friendly state; it is enough to establish the belief that resistance will have no effect, that the West uses Georgia for its own purposes, and that the only path to peace is to restrict sovereign choice and anticipate Russia’s political demands.
8. Strategic Consequences for Georgia
The historical narratives discussed in the preceding chapters are not merely part of a struggle over the interpretation of the past. When embedded in the media, education, political rhetoric, and public memory, they also directly affect how society assesses the present: they alter perceptions of the source of threats, define the acceptable boundaries of sovereignty, and associate the cost of democratic choice with fear of war and instability. The impact of the instrumentalization of history by Russian and pro-Russian actors should therefore be assessed through the specific political and social consequences it produces for Georgia’s security, Western integration, and democratic development.
The first strategic consequence of establishing such a perception of historical events is the relativization of Russia’s responsibility. If the annexation of 1801 is understood as voluntary “accession,” the occupation of 1921 as “Sovietization,” and the 2008 war merely as an error by the Georgian authorities, the contemporary Russian military presence no longer appears to be a continuation of a long-term imperial policy. Under these conditions, occupation is presented as a temporary or technical problem, while political self-restraint toward Russia is framed as geopolitical realism.
The second consequence is the portrayal of Western integration as a threat. Georgia’s European choice is no longer viewed as a means of strengthening sovereignty, rules-based security, and democratic institutions; instead, it is imagined as a factor that could trigger a new war. Within this framework, formal “neutrality” in fact means preserving asymmetric dependence, because Georgia cannot make independent decisions without fear of the anticipated reaction of its powerful neighbour.
The third consequence is the delegitimization of democratic institutions. When opposition movements, independent media, non-governmental organizations, universities, and international partners are declared to be components of a single covert conspiracy, the findings and facts they present are dismissed in advance as unreliable. This creates epistemic distrust — a condition in which citizens no longer trust the media, science, elections, or fact-checking — and produces an environment favourable to authoritarian power.
The fourth consequence is the disappearance of accountability. Conspiracy theories present social problems not as the results of specific state policies and decisions, but as the actions of omnipotent “foreign powers.” This discourse reproduces the familiar logic of Soviet political culture, in which criticism was declared an instrument of a “foreign power” and dissent a threat to national unity.
The fifth consequence is the cultural legitimization of authoritarian norms. If the violence of the Stalinist period is perceived as the inevitable price of building a strong state, the closure of archives as a necessity of national security, and critical civil society as foreign agency, citizens’ rights become secondary to the interests of the state. Historical memory thus establishes the boundaries not only of how the past is interpreted, but also of what political conduct is considered permissible in the present.
Conclusion
Russian disinformation and the falsification of history are two interconnected components of a single strategic system. Disinformation creates confusion and distrust concerning the present, while historical revisionism offers society a mythological framework through which that confusion is converted into political conclusions favourable to Russia. The purpose of the Kremlin’s propaganda infrastructure is not necessarily to prove its own version; it is sufficient to establish the belief that objective truth does not exist, that democratic and authoritarian states are no different, and that Russia’s violent actions are a natural response to a hostile environment.
In Georgia’s case, the distortion of history portrays colonial subjugation as a “brotherhood of co-religionists,” totalitarian violence as social order, the 2008 aggression as a Georgian provocation, and European integration as a threat to peace and identity. The most dangerous situation arises when these narratives become a natural part of domestic discourse. Under such conditions, Russian influence no longer needs to persuade society that Russia is a friendly state; it is enough for society to believe that the West is as hostile as Russia, that resistance is pointless, and that the only path to security is to “avoid provoking” Russia.
Georgia’s European and democratic resilience therefore depends not only on foreign policy and the development of defence capabilities, but also on the quality of its historical memory. Open archives, documentary research into Soviet and imperial crimes, historical clarity regarding the 1921 occupation and the 2008 aggression, critical reflection on the Stalinist legacy, multiperspectival education, and independent media are important instruments of national security. A country that protects its past through facts is less vulnerable to external interference.
Disclaimer: This English version was generated using artificial intelligence (AI) and has not been translated by a professional human translator. While every effort has been made to preserve the meaning of the original text, the translation may contain inaccuracies, omissions, or stylistic inconsistencies. In the event of any discrepancy, the original Georgian version shall prevail.
References and Sources
[5] McGlynn, Jade. Memory Makers: The Politics of the Past in Putin’s Russia. Bloomsbury Academic, 2023.
[12] Independent International Fact-Finding Mission on the Conflict in Georgia. Report, 2009.
[13] European Court of Human Rights. Georgia v. Russia (II), Grand Chamber judgment, 21 January 2021.
[14] ISFED. “Russian Information Operations in the 2024 Election Cycle,” 4 April 2025.
[17] Institute for Development of Freedom of Information (IDFI). “Regime Archives in Georgia.”
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