The Washington Post - USA (2022-03-07)

MONDAY, MARCH 7 , 2022. THE WASHINGTON POST EZ RE A

war in ukraine

BY CHICO HARLAN

chisinau, moldova — There
have been no air raid sirens in
Moldova, no explosions and no
casualties, but already some of
the turbulence and anxiety of war
is starting to build.
People trade jittery messages
on social media as Russian troops
move through neighboring
Ukraine. Some Moldovans are
stockpiling foreign currency and
drawing up plans to flee. Many,
seeing how abruptly lives col-
lapsed in Ukraine, say they fear
the potential for catastrophe in
their own country: All it takes is
for Russian President Vladimir
Putin to expand his ambitions.
“You never know what is in the
mind of a crazy person,” said
Evgheni Liuft, 32, who lives in
Moldova’s capital, C hisinau.
Ten days into a conflict that is
shifting alliances and upending
the world order, the repercus-
sions are hitting most directly in
countries such as Moldova —
post-Soviet nations that balanced
for years between East and West,
and are now realizing the middle
ground is untenable.
In Moldova, the war has accel-
erated the drive to align fully with
Europe. On Thursday, the country
signed an application to join the
European Union, in what its
prime minister described as a
vote for “freedom.” Moldova has
also strained to accommodate
more than 250,000 Ukrainian ref-
ugees who have crossed its bor-
ders, the prime minister noted. In
a visit Sunday to Moldova’s capi-
tal, U.S. Secretary of State Antony
Blinken called the country a
“powerful” example of a democra-
cy moving forward, not back-
ward.
But while Moldova has never
felt closer to Europe, it has also
never felt more vulnerable to the
Kremlin. Russian troops are
pushing toward port cities along
Ukraine’s southern coast, includ-
ing Odessa, 30 miles from Moldo-
va’s border. Several days ago, ad-
dressing his security council,
Belarus’s authoritarian leader, Al-
exander Lukashenko, displayed a
battle map that showed an arrow
pointing toward Moldova.
Security analysts say Russia’s
sluggish progress so far in
Ukraine could reduce the chances
that Putin seeks to enlarge the
scale of the invasion. Mihai Pop-
soi, the vice president of Moldo-
va’s Parliament, said in an inter-
view that intelligence officials see
no indications of a direct threat —
“although [Lukashenko’s] map
might have you question my
words,” he said. Still, he said,
every former Soviet nation is ant-
sy. Moldova, which remains out-
side NATO and its security guar-
antees, has already closed its air-
space and declared a state of
emergency.
“Things can go south any day,”
Popsoi said.
There is one more reason Mol-
dova is exposed: It already has an
estimated 1,500 Russian troops
within its internationally recog-
nized borders. Those troops —
which Russia describes as peace-
keepers — are based in an area
known as Transnistria, a break-
away enclave that functions in
practice as an independent na-
tion, where Moldovan authorities
admit they have no control.
On a Moldovan Telegram chan-
nel set up to provide information
on the conflict in Ukraine, Moldo-
van authorities have found them-
selves racing to debunk one ru-
mor after the next. No, authorities
said, troops in Transnistria have
not been launching rockets into
Ukraine. No, they said, the troops
in Transnistria have not joined
the conflict.
But there has been one legiti-
mate signal of the potential for
tension. One day after Moldova
applied for E.U. membership,
Transnistrian leaders issued a
statement making clear they had
no interest in following. They re-
iterated a demand to create “two
independent states.”
Transnistria is a tiny strip of
land, with a population of about
500,000, that on a map looks like
a ridge of scales running along
Moldova’s back. It is also a place
that speaks to a strategy Russia
had been using before its full-
scale Ukrainian invasion: foster-
ing beachheads of pro-Kremlin
influence in former Soviet na-
tions.
Transnistria was born out of a
brief early 1990s war amid the
Soviet collapse — Moldova want-
ed independence and to outlaw
Russian as an official language;
Transnistria wanted to maintain
Soviet ties. But in the long after-

math, after the war ended in a

stalemate, Russian leaders, in-

cluding Putin, have seen it in their

interests to help prop up the

Transnistrian government with

subsidies.

To many Moldovans, Transnis-

tria has become an easy-to-deride

U.S.S.R. time capsule. It’s a place

of Lenin statues, hammer-and-

sickle flags and once-grand Soviet

architecture in decay. Transnis-

tria has also paid a price for its

relative isolation. Unrecognized

by the United Nations, it has a

currency, the ruble, that is virtual-

ly worthless outside its borders.

International bank cards don’t

work at Transnistrian ATMs. Sal-

aries are low. For all of Russia’s

influence, the biggest power in

Transnistria is a monopolistic

company, Sheriff, that operates

with scant oversight and controls

everything from the gas stations

to the supermarkets to the soccer

club.

Those complexities make it

harder to pinpoint Transnistria’s

role in a potential conflict. Some

Transnistrians have Russian

passports, for instance; many

others have Moldovan ones. Most

of Transnistria’s exports go to the

European Union. Transnistrian

President Vadim Krasnoselsky

said Sunday that Transnistria

“does not pose a military threat,

and does not hold plans of an

aggressive nature.”

But it’s also clear that Transnis-

tria is following Russia in down-

playing the war, which Putin has

referred to only as a “special mili-

tary operation.”

Transnistrian newspapers and

television channels scarcely men-

tion the conflict — and people

who live there have gotten the

signal that the topic is off-limits.

In one Transnistrian village over

the weekend, three friends — fel-

low musicians — who had gath-

ered to eat kielbasa and drink

vodka were happy to talk about

their families. Or Soviet times. Or

the music they played: Ukrainian,

Russian and Moldovan tunes

from the 1970s and 1980s. But

they resisted any questions about

their feelings on the war or Rus-

sia.

“I just want peace,” said the

bass guitarist.

“I am neutral,” said the pianist.

They drank some more.

“No politics,” said the guitarist,

who did not want to give his

name.

In the Transnistrian capital of

Tiraspol, an artist, Andrei Platon-

ov, 29, said he is in the minority:

He vehemently opposes the war.

He said he “hates” Putin, and he

gets his information foremost

from YouTube — not Transnistri-

an TV. But he said he’s wary of

sharing his views publicly. He said

he lacks the money to leave even if

he wanted to. Speaking in Eng-

lish, Platonov began to explain

the thing he was most fearful of —

but he wanted to make sure he got

the words right. So he typed his

thoughts in Russian into Google

Translate and showed the phone.

“No freedom of speech and

they imprison for rallies,” it said.

The peace deal signed in 1992

between Transnistria and Moldo-

va came after a war that left some

1,000 people dead. Today, there

are still a few markers on both

sides of buildings damaged in

battle, or walls peppered with

ammunition. The war, said Iuri

Sclifos, 57, who fought for the

Moldovan side, was a “huge mis-

take.”

“Nobody wanted it and noth-

ing good has come of it,” he said.

Moldova’s aim to join the E.U.

now adds some urgency to find-

ing a way out of settlement talks

that have been deadlocked for

years. While Cyprus managed to

join the E.U. despite a territorial

dispute, many experts say Moldo-

va would give credibility to its E.U.

bid by resolving a frozen conflict

that includes Russian troops.

“Particularly from the point of

view of security,” said Iulian Gro-

za, an expert on foreign policy,

European affairs and good gov-

ernance and a member of Moldo-

va’s security council.

But the path toward member-

ship figures to be long. In the

same week Moldova applied for

E.U. membership, so did Georgia

— both prompted by a dramatic

plea from Ukraine for “immediate

membership.” They join a list of

countries, including Albania and

North Macedonia, that have been

trying to join the bloc for years,

while encountering resistance

from Brussels over the idea that

the 27-nation club has already

admitted too many members with

corruption and weak rule of law.

More than two-thirds of Mol-

dovans support the idea of E.U.

membership. But many young

people, who grew up after the

Soviet collapse, say their country

has urgent vulnerabilities that a

years-long process will not be able

to solve. In Chisinau this past

week, at a modern work-share

studio paid for in part with U.S.

government funding, the employ-

ees of a cryptocurrency company

sat around a table and spoke with

fear about the prospect of war

spilling over. In such a scenario,

they said, Russian troops in

Transnistria could easily enter

the fight. They said Moldova’s

own military is weak and small.

They believe Moldova could fall

under Russian control with

alarming speed.

“I am going to London next

week,” said Tudor Cotruta, 33, the

founder of the company, who said

he wanted to leave before being

conscripted into a losing war.

Two other employees, Olga Ce-

botari, 24, and her boyfriend, Li-

uft, said they were also packing

their bags.

So many people had plans to

leave that the company, in the

coming days, would no longer

occupy its work-share space.

“You can cut the sadness in the

air, it’s so thick,” Cotruta said.

A war in Moldova was still

unlikely, they said. But seeing

what had happened in Ukraine,

even low-probability outcomes

now felt like something worth

hedging against.

“It’s the thought of living in a

country where you can’t express

yourself anymore,” Cebotari said.

“That is what scares me the most.”

Viorel Barbanoua contributed to this

report.

Watching Putin’s invasion of Ukraine, Moldova worries it might be next

GIANMARCO MARAVIGLIA FOR THE WASHINGTON POST

Transnistria, a breakaway enclave within Moldova’s internationally recognized borders, is already host to an estimated 1,500 Russian troops that Moscow calls peacekeepers.

Post-Soviet nations that

have balanced East, West

lose a safe middle ground

“You never know what

is in the mind of

a crazy person.”

Evgheni Liuft, 32, who lives in

Moldova’s capital, C hisinau, and is

planning to leave with his girlfriend

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