Paper Short Abstract:

This paper examines the attempts of a group of memory activists to commemorate a former NKVD prison in Tbilisi. Ignored by the post-socialist state, and dismissed by the tenants, this paper reveals the complex political and social dynamics that the memory activists’ claims to the building uncover.

Paper Abstract:

Number 22 is an XIX-century building in the heart of Tbilisi that has undergone several changes of ownership over the years. Originally the residence of an Armenian merchant, it later served as a school for male nobility. After the Sovietisation of the country in 1921, it transformed into an NKVD headquarters with prison cells and eventually became a 'normal' housing block for World War II refugees. While it was once home to many, nowadays, only a few families inhabit the building due to its fragile structure. The underground prison cells are inaccessible, with locked access points due to the risk of crumbling ceilings and floors and, unless someone knows of its existence, it is impossible to guess that the metal grills you see in the courtyard have something to do with a basement, let alone a prison.

Since 2010, a small group of memory activists has taken on the task of transforming Number 22 into 'the last tangible evidence of Soviet terror.' However, they receive minimal attention from the broader public, and their activities clash with the desires of the tenants—some of whom want to demolish it, others want to renovate it, and a few stay ambivalent, not wanting to be associated with the dark history of the building. Drawing on 16 months of ethnographic fieldwork, this paper uncovers the complex dynamics between memory and property, the social relations generated by the building's materiality, and the memory activists' claims to commemorate, simultaneously reproducing a difficult heritage.