Dr. Elguja Medzmariashvili,
Chief Designer of Space Technologies
I first met Eduard Shevardnadze in the autumn of 1979. He visited the students’ design office Mshenebloba (Construction) of the Georgian Politechnical Institute whose staff were all very young. I was head of the office then, and, naturally, I was tense as I awaited my first meeting with the legendary First Secretary of the Central Committee. I remember feeling both anxiety and responsibility.
The moment he entered the office, however, Mr. Shevardnadze not only dispelled the tension with his singular gift of establishing rapport with others, but in a matter of minutes he made all of us - young scientists and students - feel as though we were his friends. This atmosphere of informality stimulated our dialogue, and we enthusiastically shared with him our ideas and hopes, and we even touched on some of the most fantastic prospects. After the meeting, as our esteemed guests were leaving the institute, Guram Gabunia separated from their group and beckoned me. When I approached him, he said with an encouraging smile, ‘The First Secretary is very pleased with the meeting. He noted that you boys are very original thinkers, and he believes that we must help and support you by all means.’ Those who remember the Georgia of the 1970s can easily realise what Eduard Shevardnadze’s positive appraisal and disposition meant for us. It was a powerful incentive to take up some formidable challenges that would soon prove indispensable.
No one knew at that time that fate had planned for us a ‘cosmic scenario’ according to which, in few short months, our lives would take a new, great path.
Nineteen years later, in his recently published book The Great Silk Road Shevardnadze would relate the origins of this great path:
“At the end of the 70s, in the United States and the former Soviet Union - the supercosmic powers - the problem of creating large collapsible space structures, especially of large-size precise reflector aerials took shape. At that time, the urgency of the solution of the problem was connected with the realisation of programs of the newest military space technologies. It was obvious from conversations with leading space authorities and specialists that new generation orbital communications systems badly needed large-size space aerials. Thus, there was no doubt that the field was promising both with its significance and prestigious character.
With a view to solving the problem, the well-known chief designer, Acad.
Anatoli Savin and professors Yuri Danilov and Mikhail Zakson decided in
favour of Georgia. On the recommendation of Acad. Teimuraz Loladze they
familiarized themselves with the work of the students design office Mshenebloba
of the then Georgian Politechnical Institute in the field of collapsible
constructions. I had visited the design office a few months before and
spoken to the young scientists - heads of the office, Elguja Medzmariashvili
and Merab Adeishvili. Although their undertaking made a very good impression
on me, I still felt it risky to take a decision on the development of the
field of large-sized space constructions. And despite such misgivings,
I took the decision on the development of this branch in Georgia.”
As for me, I remember how this decision was taken nineteen years ago,
as clearly as if it happened yesterday. A special meeting was convened
at the Central Committee where members of the Bureau and Government, representatives
of various scientific and educational institutions, and party officials
of different ranks were invited. Academician Anatoli Savin, a four-time
laureate of the Lenin and State prizes, a Hero of the Soviet Union, the
Chief Designer and Director-General of Soviet military space technology,
specially arrived for this event from Moscow. Together with him Academician
Teimuraz Loladze and I were also to speak at the meeting.
During the meeting everybody began to realise that taking on this task would not only be immensely difficult for Georgia, but that it was an extremely risky and adventuresome proposition for the Republic’s leader who, in the event of a positive decision, would bear the entire weight of responsibility. After all, it was a matter of creating a major instrument of strategic military space technology, and the development of this field in Georgia.
“Expressing gratitude is necessary, and everyone
needs it. Someone who is fully committed, works and fights without sparing
himself, needs a kind word. He needs to know that he is noticed, appreciated,
and that future generations will also value him. Everyone needs this, whether
their cause is great or small. And in this respect, we must not fail to
pay our debts to these people.”
Eduard Shevardnadze.
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After our reports, a stony and tense silence of anticipation fell in the hall. No one dared to express opinion. Then, Shevardnadze turned to the audience and said only this: ‘With the project or without it, with or without money, with the relevant law in place, or in the absence of it, this undertaking must be realized. In the future it will serve Georgia well.’
The meeting was over. All went out into the hall. There were no congratulations. I was surrounded by people whom I had only seen in the papers and on TV screens standing on the government platform during parades and demonstrations. I had the impression that they were interested in identifying the ‘chief culprit’. I was assailed with questions and comments that invariably ended with the word ‘fantasy.’ ‘We cannot do it, anyway’, ‘Why risk?’, ‘You are still young and inexperienced’, etc. I had the feeling that I was a pupil who had done something wrong in class, and was being scolded into the corner by my irate teachers. Finally, Mr. Irakli Chkhikvishvili demanded, ‘And still, what do you hope for?’ He did not fail to remind me that the Soviet Union had already spent tens of millions to solve this problem in Tashkent, and to no avail. This was despite the fact that the renowned scientist and academician Vakhidov was the chief designer, and the First Secretary Comrade Rashidov personally steered the undertaking.
I realized then that I should switch from defence to offence. In my career in space technology, this was my first attempt at diplomacy. I gave him the following response, ‘According to the already existing concept, my designs are better than Vakhidov’s systems, and if anyone doubts Shevardnadze’s superiority over Rashidov, well...’. I had not finished the sentence when I knew I had won the round. After a brief pause, David Chkhikvishvili said to me for everyone to hear, ‘Like me, you are a graduate of Batumi school No1, so I trust that you will not disgrace me.’
I am thankful to God that he has given me the ability not to disgrace
the school, or Georgia, or its president with this undertaking. Moreover,
God gave me the opportunity to design the first Georgian apparatus to ever
have been launched into space - a symbol of Georgian genius and achievement.
But this would be 19 long and difficult years later.
At the end of the 80s, after years of intense work and mobilisation of intellectual, engineering, technological, industrial, material and financial resources under conditions of the strictest secrecy, the presentation of a complex of aerospace devices was completed in Georgia.
Until recently, only the people directly involved in the project knew
(and even they knew it partially) that designs made in Tbilisi, built in
the aviation plant here, and tested at the Saguramo presentation complex
were successfully used for different purposes in the military and special
space programs of the former Soviet Union.
In this way, Georgian science was paving its way toward space. The
Soviet Union collapsed, however, and Georgia was trapped in its debris,
engulfed in conflict, treachery and rampant crime. No one seemed to remember
space or the Georgian scientists working on space technologies. Yet, it
did not prove so altogether...
Immediately upon his return to Georgia in 1992, Eduard Shevardnadze
inquired about the situation. Despite the great difficulties, space technologies
began to revive. This is what Eduard Shevardnadze himself writes about
this in his book:
“In conditions of market economy and of Georgia’s independence this
field required a new strategy and new impetus.
It was due to the new strategy that the Institute and its offshoot
international company Georgia’s Politechnical Intellect launched a cycle
of joint studies with the famous Daimler-Crysler Aerospace.”
The special role of Georgian space technologies was indicated in the official expert report of the European Space Agency, and personally by the Agency’s Director General Mr. Antonio Rodotta in his letter to President Shevardnadze. Despite these successes, during my meeting with the President I felt that he was expecting more, aiming at something else. His personal qualities prompted that - ceaseless efforts to achieve a goal and his unfailing talent for prediction. The expectations proved right. The ambitious task which he gave me was more than an assignment in essence, it was a command according to which, in an extremely tight timeframe, Georgia was to launch and test in outer space its technological masterpiece.
Such a project has not even been realized by countries with far more sophisticated space programs. It was therefore important for Georgia to begin working - even under such difficult circumstances, in order to prove our viability in the international market.
Soon, the time came when everyone had to assume responsibility for themselves.
My reputation was on the line. So was that of the Georgian scientific community,
whose failure no one would forgive. Georgian businessman Gregory Kinteraia,
who unhesitatingly agreed to finance this uncertain undertaking, was also
taking an enormous chance. Many others were taking risks as well: the Tbilisi
Aviation Plant, which was to manufacture the device; the internationally
known Koroliov Russian Space Rocket Corporation Energia, which despite
great pressure decided on using the Georgian reflector. And most importantly,
the Georgian President was taking a big risk by subjecting his long term
policy to international scrutiny, which in the event of failure, would
stunt Georgia’s development in this sphere.
When the day came to put the Georgian device into a M-42 rocket, Moscow
requested final ‘go ahead’ from Georgia. Naturally, the ‘top man’ has this
prerogative. We met the president. I conveyed to him the possible
problems that could arise, but his decision was firm. “So Georgians are
going into outer space,” he declared.
Nothing could alter the course of events after this. The experiment began. But let me return to the period preceding this.
Why did the President expedite demonstration of the Georgian aerospace technology? What was his long-term plan?
Eduard Shevardnadze himself gives the answer:
“Today another major step has been made in this direction in Georgia.
Together with Russia’s space rocket corporation Energia, Georgia has set
up a joint company Energia-GPI-Space. This year the company is preparing
a major space experiment that will be a new practical step in the development
of space telecommunications.
I have not recalled this story by chance. Today, the restoration of
the Silk Route calls for its modern telecommunication provision.
This highly sophisticated system can be developed only through a new generation of space telecommunications system on the basis of the space collapsible aerials designed in Georgia.”
These words are from Eduard Shevardnadze’s new book The Great Silk Route
which has already been translated into several languages. I do not presume
to make a comprehensive analysis of the book, but in fact the author
summarises his political credo, his main goals as a public and political
figure. These are the following:
Eliminating the bipolar confrontation and establishing global peace;
Georgia’s independence;
Determining and realising Georgia’s international function.
What is most important is that Shevardnadze sees Georgia’s future as being guaranteed by the unity of all the three goals.
As far back as 1990, Shevardnadze had determined that this international function would be realised through the revival of the Great Silk Road with its historical economic, political, social, and cultural traditions.
Let us return to the Summer of 1999. By God’s grace, July 23-28 was a great landmark in Georgia’s history - with all its turmoil, problems, faith, hope and eventually, success.
In those days, I saw the President. He was overwhelmed with feelings - a profound sense of responsibility and pride, jubilation and gratitude, and as always, full of hope.
This successful launch at the end of the 20th Century, was a triumph for the Georgian scientific and technological community. We enter the 21st Century with our first satellite in orbit, a tribute to the hard work, talent and success of the Georgian people.