What I remember best about meeting Zviad Gamsakhurdia a year ago is the dogs. As the Georgian nationalist's wife served tea to several visitors, she apologized for the growls coming from the walled grounds of the villa. "They're here to protect us," she said, "but sometimes I wonder."
There was an awkward delay in our departure. It took nearly 20 minutes for four burly bodyguards, using the butts of their automatic rifles, to force the huge Dobermans to a corner of the garden so that we could safely reach our car.
I recalled the scene last week, when Gamsakhurdia became the...
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