[Report] Transnistria, a thorn in the side of Europe

(B2) Little discreet, anonymous, furtive visit (I only had a few hours before the plane left), in one of the last European regions closed to the world...

Look at a map of Europe. Between Moldova and Ukraine, there may be a narrow strip of territory, around the Dniester river, in gray, with a name worthy of Tintin's comics: Transnistria or Transdniestrie, depending on the spelling. Here, since 1992, and a war of “independence”, a state has been functioning, recognized by no other in the world but which is however protected by clearly visible Russian “peace forces”. A situation that borders on the absurd. Because if “the State” seems a little puppet, the border is not at all, at least in appearance. A separation which is not without economic implications. Eastern Transdniestria is traditionally industrial, while Western Moldova is more agricultural.

True border in a non-country

While the Schengen zone is expanding every day, the official "non-border" between Transnistria and Moldova is home to a real border post, with no-man's land, barbed wire, concrete bars and chicanes... and the discreet presence, but real, Russian "peacekeepers".

Just after the border, buried in a ditch on the left, under a latticework, an armored vehicle and a few Russian soldiers, chapkas on their heads despite the heat, are keeping a discreet watch. But there are no watchtowers or weapons pointed at the arrivals. The passage time is therefore more a question of luck, determination... and the mood of the customs officer.

Fifteen minutes or several hours of waiting, to have a small piece of poorly photocopied paper, using a visa, with a sometimes fantastic price (the "Transit" visa is free), the amount of which often ends up in the pocket of the customs officer, confide the regulars of the passage. Aside from the minibuses which shuttle Chisinau – Tiraspol several times an hour, few private cars, and even fewer trucks. This is also not recommended. Transnistrian customs officers particularly “pamper” these customers.

Past the first city, almost border, Bendery, the road to Tiraspol is then fast. A few kilometers before the "capital", a new chicane, with a tank and armed soldiers watching, forces you to slow down. If there is no formal dam, everything is planned to be able to put it in place in a few seconds.

Real communism around the corner

In this “funny” country, the sickle and hammer always remain displayed at the top of the flag and coat of arms. Slogans glorifying the country are displayed on top of factories or on advertising panels. It is still forbidden to photograph any official building – even Parliament – ​​as well as any soldier in the street.

But, paradoxically, they, like police officers, are rather rare. In official buildings, such as the House of Soviets or Parliament, there is not even a symbolic guard of honor. This is, moreover, a particularity of Tiraspol, the “capital” of this puppet state. Only the Russian barracks on the outskirts of the town are visibly guarded.

Tiraspol could be any city from the former Soviet empire of the 1980s. But there is a certain modernity there, which any European city would envy.

On the one hand, gleaming, brand new banks, of which one might wonder what their reason for existence might be; billboards announcing the launch of a brand new building project; state-of-the-art clothing boutiques, which display the best-known brands, at prices closer to those in Brussels, Berlin or Paris than to the local standard of living, with few customers.

On the other, the traditional market where you can find everything at more democratic prices: from chickens and potatoes to household furniture, including clothing, gas stoves, bicycle parts, cigarettes. and newspapers. Here the countryside comes to sell its products and buy what it needs.

The population, particularly rural, is poor

There is no need for a long sociological investigation to grasp this. Here, 10 Transnistrian rubles — the “Republic” printed its own ruble at the exchange rate of 14 to the Euro — are counted before spending. The faces are worn, tired, worn out. A few gleaming or more antique vehicles circulate in the city.

But the population mainly takes old, sluggish trolleybuses, a little rickety, to get around the city or more modern minibuses - a little more expensive but faster and can reach all places in the country, whether from the suburbs of Tiraspol, the countryside, even in Chisinau (Moldova) or Odessa (Ukraine). Otherwise, as in all European cities, as soon as there is a ray of sunshine, the girls take out their best clothes or relax on a bench.

The border: a control at the head of the customer

The return passage from the "border" is more folkloric. As soon as the customs officer arrives, a veritable carnival of passports arises. Apparently, everything is good here to prove his identity.

All the papers in the world...

Russian passport, Moldovan identity card, Transnistrian piece of paper. Even an old, tattered CCCP (USSR) passport is appreciated by the customs officer. The Westerner is entitled to “favorable treatment”. Passage at the station, confiscated passport, interrogation, bag search... If the questions are ritual, led by a young agent, speaking English - which is rare -, apparently trained in professional screening - reason for stay, time of arrival , “do you have drugs”… — they focus particularly on certain, less usual questions: type of photos taken (notably of the military), amount of money (transnistrian currency and rubles) possessed in cash. An old customs officer, speaking only Russian, and sitting nonchalantly in a corner of the room, seems to have a very clear aim: to shorten the interrogation, we must take out the change.

Careful control... and laughter

However, the questioning remains polite and respectful. And by following the precious advice of one of the travelers, “not to pay”, and with a little tenacity and patience, we overcome the last unwanted questions. After 40 minutes of stopping, the bus can therefore restart to cross, this time, a checkpoints …from the Moldovan police. Even if there is no border control a priori for Moldovans, this control resembles one. The police officer makes a quick tour of the minibus to check if there is any illegally imported product, and inspects the luggage hold. No result.

The minibus can leave again, this time definitely for Chisinau. A few dozen meters further on, all the passengers relax noisily and, amid general hilarity, emerge from a hold trunk the more “personal” packages containing cartons of cigarettes or other products. The “border” seems more a waste of time – “bureaucracy that’s all” confides a passenger, and a source of bribes – than a real influence of an “independent State”. At least that day...

A fictional state?

As a European diplomat confided, in this region, “one feels a bit of personal enterprise dressed up in the form of independence, coupled with propaganda”. The fiction of the State is revealed on the economic level. To export to Europe, Transnistrian companies must be registered in Chisinau. Nearly 300 of them have taken this step. “ Moldova receives preferential treatment for products which is a serious incentive for Transnistrian companies to register underlines the European Commission. Companies indeed export a lot to Europe, especially steel and textiles.

To go there ?

The best are the collective minibuses which serve the Chisinau (Moldova)-Tiraspol (Moldova-Transnistria) connection. Very reasonable ticket price. Journey time: between one and two hours (it all depends on the weather at the border). Guaranteed atmosphere. And crossing the border “more flexible” than in a private car. They are taken at the bus station, located at the Chisinau market. Bus connection also from Ukraine.

(Nicolas Gros-Verheyde)

Photos credit: © NGV - "railway track on the road to Tiraspol - bank in Tiraspol - market in Tiraspol (Transnsitria - Moldova)