The distance between the village of Cocieri and the city of Dubasari in Moldova does not exceed a handful of kilometers. However, the demarcation line guarded by two Russian soldiers from the so-called 'peacekeeping forces' separates two worlds. Two antagonistic views of the past and also of the future.
As one moves away from Cocieri and Molovata Noua - the enclaves under Chisinau's control trapped on the left bank of the Dniester River - and enters Dubasari, Latin characters and the Moldovan language disappear, replaced by Cyrillic and Russian. The same goes for Western credit cards and the lei, the official currency of the European country. Here, payments are made in Transnistrian rubles.
This is a geographical space dominated by businesses of the Sheriff brand. Supermarkets or gas stations owned by the great oligarch and former KGB member (the former Soviet Union's secret service), Viktor Gushan, who controls the separatist territory.
An environment where everything exudes an air of nostalgia for the former USSR. From the accumulation of Khrushchevkas - the cheap apartment blocks built during Nikita Khrushchev's era, the Soviet leader, and thus named after him - lining the streets, to the dilapidated or abandoned old factories. Even the asphalt suddenly deteriorates upon entering Dubasari.
For Viktor Besleaga, a resident of Molovata Noua, the parliamentary elections this Sunday in Moldova are more than just a simple electoral appointment. Polls indicate that President Maia Sandu's party, the Party of Action and Solidarity (PAS), could lose the majority control it has in the legislative chamber to the rise of pro-Russian parties integrated into the Patriotic Bloc. "It would be a defeat, after what we fought for in 1992 in Molovata Noua and Cocieri. We would be occupied again (by the Russians). Those of us who were soldiers in that war would have to flee the country," he argues.
Said by a 54-year-old former soldier who fought under Chisinau's forces during the conflict that led to the de facto independence of Transnistria, the Moldovan demarcation located between the Dniester River and the border with Ukraine, which declared its de facto secession in 1992 with military support from Moscow.
Viktor was captured by the separatist militias in March 1992 when they took over the police station in Dubasari, where the Moldovan worked as a security agent. He was held captive for 32 days. Upon his release, he joined the national army and took part in the bloody battle for control of this same territory, the plain of Cocieri, which left dozens of casualties.
Dubasari fell into Transnistria's hands along with the entire left bank of the Dniester, but Cocieri and Molovata Noua resisted the onslaught of the pro-Russian paramilitaries. "76 villagers fought on Moldova's side. Not one switched to Transnistria's side," says Viktor, who serves as the president of the local 1992 Ex-Combatants Association. "Here, we all vote for Europe. We don't want to return to the USSR," he adds.
The stark contrast between the two villages and the neighboring city of Dubasari could be a metaphor for the ideological struggle being fought this Sunday in Moldova, a country that has oscillated between years dominated by Moscow-aligned forces and those governed by Western-oriented parties since its independence in 1991. The country's extreme polarization was evident during the referendum last year, in which a slim majority of 50.46% voted in favor of joining the European Union, compared to 49.54% who opposed it.
With the war in Ukraine on the other side of the border, the dispute holds significance far beyond its internal repercussions. Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky stated at the recent United Nations General Assembly that the EU "has already lost Georgia, increasingly dependent on Russia; it cannot afford to lose (also) Moldova."
The example of the Caucasus state - whose affinity with the EU is now a thing of the past - has become the new mantra of Chisinau's authorities. "We don't want to be like Georgia. If the pro-Russian forces control Parliament, Moldova could become a platform for their plans against Ukraine and Europe," says Radu Marian, a deputy of the ruling PAS.
Transnistria remains a perpetual rift in Moldova's political landscape and a latent threat to Kiev. Not only because it operates under Moscow's guidelines but also due to the presence of 1,500 Russian soldiers stationed in its territory, in addition to several thousand soldiers loyal to the separatist entity.
The authorities of the enclave will not allow voting in their territory and do not even permit Moldovan parties to cross through - the journey is shorter by road than crossing the Dniester - to reach Cocieri. "They didn't let us pass. We had to come here by ferry. They say we are agitators. Everything there (in Transnistria) depends on Moscow," notes Alexandre Guzum, an activist from the Moldovan Alliance, a small pro-European party that roams the streets of Molovata Noua distributing campaign propaganda.
There are very few figures in Moldova who deviate from the antagonistic view held by both the PAS and its allies, as well as their adversaries in the Patriotic Bloc.
Economist Marian Lupu, who served as the Parliament's president and interim head of state between 2010 and 2012, aligns with those advocating for Moldova's integration into the European Union without severing its traditional connection to markets in the former Soviet space.
Kremlin's Interference in the Elections
For the socialist politician, the allegations of Russian interference in these elections are part of the "fear" that Sandu's party wants to use as a "tool" to "mobilize its voters".
"Of course, Russia interferes in Moldova. And the European Union. And the US until recently. But not at the alarming levels they tell us. In fact, the most worrying aspect is the dictatorial ways of this Government," he adds.
Despite his intention to establish a third way, Lupu, like the rest of the opposition, clings to hyperbole. For all of them, Moldova is no longer a democracy but a "dictatorial regime," and Sandu's government a "criminal mafia" that has infiltrated all state institutions. It is exactly the same incendiary language used by politicians linked to the Administration.
Opponents cite the closure or blocking of dozens of television stations and websites aligned with the opposition, and the exclusion of several political parties from these elections. On Friday, less than two days before the elections, the electoral commission prohibited the participation of two more pro-Russian formations, including the Moldovan Heart Party of Irina Vlah, one of the four groups that created the Patriotic Bloc.
"The decision will be used by pro-Russian groups as additional proof of their claim that they are suffering political persecution," said analyst Cristian Cantir, quoted by the AP agency.
The Electoral Commission's ruling has fueled tension on the eve of a call that has not only been affected by a widespread disinformation campaign on social media but also by much more concerning information.
This Friday, Serbian authorities confirmed the arrest of two individuals accused of training nearly 200 Moldovan activists in "military combat techniques".
"They were taught how to break police lines and shoot automatic weapons," a senior security advisor to the Moldovan government told this newspaper. Chisinau's security forces had already announced the arrest of several members of this group during the week.
For Deputy Minister Christina Gherasimov, this news "represents a serious escalation because we are talking about military training in another European country to try to tip the electoral balance in Moldova," as she explains to this newspaper during an election rally in Chisinau.
The PAS representative, on the other hand, rejects opposition allegations of possible antidemocratic behavior by the current administration. "There are parties that use democratic tools to abuse democracy (referring to freedom of expression). All these accusations are baseless. Our decisions have been transparent and carried out through independent institutions," she says.
Tragic History
History does not forget the tragic results of the ideological confrontation in Moldova's past. The small museum run by Viktor Besleaga's wife, Alexandra, in Molovata Noua, recalls the six neighbors of that village who died in the bloody dispute over the Cocieri plain. "My village, I defended you," reads the headline accompanying the photographs.
This skirmish, which lasted from when the pro-Russian militias of Transnistria intervened in Dubasari in March 1992 until the end of that same year's summer, left dozens dead, including Viktor's brother, Vasile. "He fell heroically on May 21, 1992," reads beneath his photo. "He was killed by a sniper," Alexandra points out.
The mausoleum displays a photo of the peninsula where Molotova Noua, Cocieri, and Dubasari are located. Following the Russian army's intervention in the 1992 war, Chisinau had to accept the loss of control of all the localities on the left bank of the Dniester River. Except for a handful of enclaves like Molotova Noua and Cocieri.
Now, for those who cannot cross Transnistria like Besleaga, precisely because they were government soldiers, the only option is to use a ferry that crosses the river every so often. The ship stops next to a military checkpoint guarded by Moldovan soldiers. Something almost unheard of on this side of the river, which serves as an 'undeclared border between Transnistria and the rest of Moldova'.
"When the ferry wasn't working and the river froze, we had to walk on the ice to go to Chisinau," Besleaga indicates.
The two governmental villages have several monuments dedicated to remembering "the defenders of the integrity of the Republic of Moldova in the 1992 war," but there is also one that claims "eternal glory to the Soviet soldiers who fell in the battle against fascism of the motherland (the Soviet Union)."
Perceptions of history have become another battleground in this country. For years, monuments and even cemeteries referring to the two alliances - the Soviets or the Romanians, who fought alongside Nazi Germany - that fought in the Second World War have been a recurrent target of vandalism.
According to Alexey Petrovich, a lawyer who heads the Russian Military History Society in Moldova, the country hosts over 2,000 mausoleums, statues, or memorials that praise Soviet intervention. "There are an average of 5 to 10 attacks per year against these places. The police have never identified the perpetrators because they cover up these assaults. (The current administration) is using history as a political tool. They want to glorify the Nazis and marginalize the Soviets," he asserts.
But in a reflection of the stark division seen in local society, when asked about the act of vandalism that occurred in 2022 at the cemetery of Romanian soldiers in Falesti - which was covered in graffiti with Nazi symbols or the "Z" symbolizing Russia - he simply says that "that never happened."
Alexandra Besleaga's museum covers both the period of the 1992 war and decades prior dominated by Soviet presence. There are uniforms from that army - where her own husband, Viktor, served - as well as reminders of Molovata Noua residents who served in Afghanistan and photos of those who died in the great world war.
Alexandra says she is far from feeling nostalgia for that bygone era but refuses to let history be instrumentalized. "All that happened. We have to remember it because it is part of our memory," she concludes.
Hers is an atypical opinion. Most of those surveyed face election day clinging to black and white. Either Moscow or Brussels.