Borderline Insanity?

Tales from our journey behind the Iron Curtain...

Joel Bowman, reminiscing this Sunday from Buenos Aires, Argentina…

It was only supposed to be a quick ‘n’ furtive peek behind the Iron Curtain, a rare glimpse into that inglorious past, drab and uniform and practically unfathomable to our western, individualist mindset. 

And when we arranged for the driver to pick us up that morning, it certainly seemed like a good idea. We’d dip over the border, take a few snaps for posterity, maybe grab a jar or two of that discount caviar we’d heard so much about, and be back in time to enjoy it with a glass of Moldovan champagne sparkling before sunset. 

But now, looking at the mile-long convoy of Russian tanks lined up outside our window, and the rows of mirthless men in uniform checking our passports, we were beginning to have second thoughts. Maybe even third ones...

“We’re good parents, right?” (Had we said that out loud?)

“What do you mean?” replied wife, Anya (confirming that we still had work to do on our inner monologue). “C’mon! How many three-year olds get the opportunity to visit political separatist regions?” 

“Hmm...”

“Look, this is part of history. It’s living history.” 

“Hmm...”

Then came old faithful... the checkmate line. “You’ll only regret it if we don’t go.”

As usual (and as all husbands well know), wifey was right. Our brief excursion to Transnistria was part of a six-month trip that took our little three-top, carry on-sized family from the fjords of Norway to the vineyards of New Zealand... but the few hours we spent there, immersed in a bizarre, parallel reality, were among the most memorable of the whole trip. 

Now closing in on her 7th birthday, Dear Daughter remembers fondly snippets from that day... including (unfortunately for dad) “the first time I got to try my favorite food... caviar!”

Please enjoy a little something different for this week’s Sunday Sesh, Dear Reader. As the world turns its weary eyes to the horrors of war in this much-disputed region, we recall some observations (and postcards) from our own travels behind the Iron Curtain, a few years back...

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What’s in a Border?

By Joel Bowman

“You can take photos once we’re inside,” our guide advised us, “but not at the border. Absolutely not. There, you must let us do the talking.”

An hour and a half drive from Chișinău, Moldova’s capital, between the Dniester River and the Ukraine border, lies the disputed autonomous zone of Transnistria. It is one of a small handful of so-called “break away states” that declared independence after the dissolution of the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics, the others being Abkhazia and South Ossetia (officially in Georgia) and Artsakh (officially in Azerbaijan.)

These states are de jure part of the nations that claim them (Moldova, in Transnistria’s case), but de facto sovereign nations unto themselves.

The very existence of such states begs a range of interesting questions…

What is a state without a nation? What is a nation without inter-national recognition? And, ultimately, what claim can a nation or a state truly have over an individual who recognizes neither?

“Strategic Interest”

Transnistria has its own government, funded in part by taxes collected locally and, as our (Moldovan) guide hinted more than once, “unofficial support” from the Russian Federation.

“It is a point of… how do you say… ‘strategic interest’ for them,” she replied when we asked why Russia would care about this tiny sliver of territory, far from its own capital.

For their part, the people of Transnistria – who routinely, reliably vote along separatist lines in referendums on the key question – see themselves as entirely distinct from their Moldovan neighbors.

They speak Russian. They follow Russian customs. And they long, with ill-concealed romantic nostalgia, to return to their (in)glorious communist past. Indeed, the area is often described as a kind of “time capsule” from the soviet era; a rare glimpse at what life was like behind the once impenetrable Iron Curtain.

(Photo: Propaganda everywhere)

After a while, our vehicle began to slow down into the border zone. First, we passed by a few Moldovan soldiers, who guided us through a series of roadblocks but otherwise waved us through. Next came a kind of “no-man’s land” in which the flags on the soldiers’ arms changed.

“Russian ‘peacekeepers,’” our guide observed, employing the internationally recognized ‘air quote’ bunny fingers to underscore the implied irony. “They were supposed to leave back in the ‘90s. And yet, here they are… still marching… still ‘peacekeeping.’”

A half-mile or so down the road we saw what appeared to be a far more serious border crossing, with boom gates, a security checkpoint and, of course, the official Transnistrian emblem – complete with hammer and sickle – prominently displayed atop the structure.

Beyond Borders

We handed over our passports and were told to wait in the car. Five… ten minutes passed. Then fifteen…

“It’s because some of you have American passports,” our guide observed, perhaps sensing a little tension in the group. “They are always more...ahem... careful with American passports. We might be here a while.”

A “while” later, we were driving along the same road… the same fields either side of us… the same sun shining overhead… but (possibly) in a new country.

Aside from its own government, Transnistria also has a local parliament, its own military and police forces, a postal system and independent vehicle registration. It even issues its own currency – the Transnistrian ruble – which is used for trade and commerce inside the territory. (“Foreign” credit and debit cards are not accepted inside the territory, so be sure to exchange currency in advance if you plan on visiting.)

(Photo: Lunch hour at the soviet canteen)

“They keep their ruble worth slightly more than the Moldovan leu,” our guide informed us, “a sign of their [insert air quotes gesture] ‘superiority.’”

After they declared independence from Moldova, the Transnistiran authorities adopted a constitution and hoisted a national flag. Today, citizens sing a national anthem and salute a coat of arms… again with the hammer and sickle. They also carry a Transnistrian passport, although it is not recognized for travel internationally. (For that, citizens carry either a Moldovan, Russian or sometimes Ukrainian travel document.)

Going Nowhere

Not long after the border crossing we stopped at a bus station in the city of Bender for some “traditional” food.

“It’s canteen-style,” our guide declared, somewhat ominously. “It will give you a good taste of soviet cuisine.” (Wait, did she forget to do the bunny quotes over “good” there?)

The Bender Bus Station is quite literally falling apart. The buses themselves are also falling apart. So too the roads... bridges... and surrounding buildings. The terminal itself recalls images of that other dismal communist state – Cuba – and its dilapidated Malecón, where grand old Spanish-style villas crumble daily into an indifferent sea below.

(Photo: Going nowhere with soviet infrastructure)

Inside the station, at the “USSR Canteen,” we grabbed a plastic tray and joined the other proles in line. Portraits of Marx and Lenin and Stalin adorn the walls. Red and yellow flags droop from the roof. An old television set played a movie in Russian that we couldn’t understand but that the other diners had long stopped watching in any case.

We managed to view quite a lot of the ‘country’s’ pomp and ceremony during our brief visit. War memorials, local markets, hillside monasteries… and block after block of hideous communist housing projects and abandoned factories.

Some of the more rural scenes were quite pretty. Rolling countryside bathed in the golden, autumnal sunlight. Mostly, however, the scenes were tragic… full of the decaying remnants of a failed experiment into mass collectivization.

(Photo: Maps… with roads to nowhere)

After a long day, we turned around to head back to Moldova. Of course, because they don’t recognize Transnistria as a different country, there is no need for the whole immigration rigamarole on the return run. We simply passed through.

Coasting along the winding country roads, acres of sunflowers turning in for the day, our mind began to wander...and wonder. 

Of all the strange realities that man has imagined into existence throughout the ages, political borders must surely rank up there as among the most incredible.

Along these borders man will march, in lockstep to the bars of one or another national anthem, military standard pointed to the heavens, rifle firmly in hand, at the ready to wound and even kill whoever decides to trespass on his preferred political perforation.

Considering the world as it exists before us – with its immense natural borders, for millennia impassable, its looming mountain ranges and raging oceans, its vast deserts of sand and snow – who would conclude that, at the end of the long day, a grand network of political borders, designed to partition one group from the next, to corral them into competing tax farms/ nation states, more often at odds with each other than not, would constitute the geopolitical blueprint recipe for peace and prosperity on the planet? 

Hmm... What could go wrong?

The border along the disputed autonomous zone of Transnistria, between Moldova and Ukraine, constitutes a fascinating exercise in imagining reality into existence. There, as elsewhere, the people guarding this invisible line are deadly serious about the mission at hand, proving once again that, even imagined realities can have real world consequences.

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And, finally... 

On this week’s Fatal Conceits podcast we spoke with serial start-up investor, avid crypto enthusiast and HIVE Blockchain Technologies editor, Adam Sharp. 

During the decade or so that we’ve known him, Adam has invested in over 125 start-ups, a dozen of which have grown into “unicorn” companies (a start-up worth over $1 billion). 

Over the course of an hour or so, Adam shared with us his insights into censorship - both of the First and Fourth Amendment variety - and how the market is developing workarounds, both in the social media (communications) and financial (banking, payment processing, donations) spaces. 

There’s probably some cancelable content in our discussion, which ought to give you even more reason to listen in. Do so, for free, right here... and don’t forget to like, share and leave your comments below.

Joel Bowman and Adam Sharp on Censorship and the Parallel Economy

And that’s all from us for another week. Tune in again tomorrow, when Bill returns with his regular missives. In the meantime, we’re off to throw back a few vinos at one of our favorite little neighborhood beaneries, El Preferido. (Check it out if you’re in town, and tell Pablo we sent you. Better still, drop us a line and we’ll join you for a copa!)

Until next time...

Cheers,

Joel Bowman