Post Soviet Journal | Tiraspol, Transnistria | 2022
Hello Lenin
October 25th Street, Tiraspol.
Partially or fully unrecognised states have always been a fascination of mine, so passing through Moldova, it would seem daft not to go to Transnistria. Sitting on the eastern bank of the Dniester in the Republic of Moldova, Transnistria is often referred to as the last bastion of the Soviet Union, a place where it never collapsed and carried on well into the 21st century.
The journey starts in the hectic Chisinau bus station, an old, rusted minivan where the driver inspected my passport thoroughly before letting me get in. The bus was destined for Tiraspol, the de-facto capital of the breakaway region. Most of the people on the bus were from Transnistria, visiting the Moldovan capital for one reason or another. It was noticeable as when they got in the bus, the driver would ask to see their ID, all of which were passports still bearing the hammer and sickle upon them. Once the bus had filled up, we were off on the few hour-long journey to the border.
Officially the Pridnestrovian Moldovan Republic (PMR), Transnistria occupies the small slither of land between the east bank of the Dniester River and the border with Ukraine. The people who live here are mostly Russian and Ukrainian, and a war was fought between 1990 to 1992 following the dissolution of the Soviet Union. Language and ethnicity played a large role in sparking the conflict which led to a rebellion of the separatists in the Transnistria region, which had been an autonomous region within the union. The conflict itself is technically frozen with no peace agreement or solution to the disputed territory ever being reached. Today the region is overwhelmingly pro Russia, with deep economic ties to Moscow, and a number of Russian soldiers are stationed there.
At the border I was the last one at the queue to get my passport checked, and upon realising I was British, the officials asked to go through my bag and camera, visibly suspicious of my presents, likely due to the war in Ukraine recently breaking out. After 10 minutes or so I was out of the customs booth and back on the bus to Tiraspol. I got off the bus at Tiraspol bus station to what could easily be the 1980s if it weren’t for a few early 2000s Mercades about, and when changing my Moldovan Lei into Transnistrian Rouble, I saw the coins, just like their passport, still had the hammer and sickle on them.
Transnistria-Moldova border.
Walking around Tiraspol, as dated as it is, the streets were immaculately clean and even the centre of the city on the main boulevard, was spotless with very little traffic. It was noticeable how well kept most of the soviet buildings were compared to the rest of Moldova, some being recently painted, and the majority of the cars on the road being old Ladas and Moskviches. The most striking aspect of walking around the streets of Tiraspol was the amount of Soviet symbolism, on the grass island in the centre of the boulevard sat big signs with the Transnistrian coat of arms on them, and hammer and sickles could be seen on many buildings and signs. On the Suvorov Monument just off the main boulevard flies the flags of Abkhazia, South Ossetia and Artsakh, all unrecognised post-soviet countries.
Trolley Buses in Tiraspol.
Transnistria coat of arms, Translation: 'Pridnestrovian Moldovan Republic'.
The flag of Transnistria has kept the original Moldovan SSR flag from the Soviet Union, again bearing the hammer and sickle still. Most of the time, it is flown next to the Russian flag.
Flagpoles on October 25th Street, Tiraspol.
Interested on what life is like there, I asked Anya, a girl working in a bakery not far from my hotel, what it was like living in Transnistria? She told me how it was peaceful, and that she liked Tiraspol albeit a bit boring sometimes. On the subject of nationality, she had a Moldovan passport along with her Transnistrian one, meaning it was easier to travel to other places in Europe, but ethnically identifies as Russian Transnistrian. The war in Ukraine worried her however, just like many others of all ages, people were worried that if Russia takes Ukraine, then they will be annexed next, potentially prompting a wider war with Moldova and other European countries. She tells me how many people have left Transnistria since the start of the war, in the first few weeks’ whole streets went, just packed their cars and headed to Moldova. As the summer came some people came back but many didn’t. Anya even had friends from school who left in fear the war would come to them. She didn’t want to say her opinion on the war however but tells me there is a lot of mixed opinion in the republic, as many are ethnically Ukrainians.
KGB Building, Tiraspol.
The old KGB building is now the government of Transnistria building, with Lenin still out the front.
Although Transnistria certainly has the façade of the Soviet Union, the actual running of the country is that of any other free market economy, with private banks and businesses operating. A huge one being ‘Sheriff’ a Transnistrian brand owned by Viktor Gushan, a Russian Moldovan Businessman and ex KGB officer, that operates the football stadium and team, supermarkets, car dealerships, TV channels and petrol stations to name a few.
Weather Transnistria will keep its Soviet nostalgic look or weather it will modernise to the present day, the republic gives an interesting look into what the Soviet Union may have looked like it had survived and made it to the 21st century.