SHOUTS - Music from the Rooftops!

Tbilisi’s cultural scene faces a crisis as Georgia’s “foreign agent” law sparks protests, silences artists, and transforms music into acts of resistance

A band performs on Rustaveli Avenue right before the new regulations came into force. Photo by Mariam Nikuradze. Licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License.

In recent years, Georgia has made its presence known in the global cultural sector. Its reputation has been shaped by its fast-growing creative scene, where artists, filmmakers, designers, writers, musicians, and curators have built a vibrant cultural ecosystem supported by independent galleries, residencies, and educational initiatives.

This has all happened in spite of a lack of governmental or institutional support and has been driven by the people’s resilience and creativity, according to Lisa Offermann, co-founder of LC Queisser, a Tbilisi-based gallery.

Since Georgia gained its independence from the Soviet Union in 1991, its people have fought to take back their identity and share their ancient, rich heritage with the world.

Now, however, the centre of this cultural movement is facing a crisis. The country’s capital, Tbilisi, has seen exhibitions close down, as the organisations funding them are shutting down. Artists are leaving the country, and the creative sector as a whole is being slowly dismantled.

Protesters carrying signs protesting the foreign agent law. The sign on the right reads ‘Your dad’s an agent’, while the sign in the centre says ‘No to the Russian law’. Photo: Shota Kincha/OC Media. Licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License.

The “Russian Law”

This can be traced back to 2023, when the country was taken over by a French oligarch and his political party, Georgian Dream. This party has since passed several laws that have made any kind of independent civic and cultural life impossible. The most threatening of them all, for artists and civic organisations, locally known as the ‘Russian law’, the Law on Transparency of Foreign Influence builds on Russia‘s infamous Foreign Agents Law.

This law forces organisations with significant foreign funding to register as serving foreign interests. This was followed by stricter legislation in 2025, which introduced prison sentences, alongside amendments to the Grants Law requiring state approval for foreign funding. Critics, including Human Rights Watch, say these measures are designed to suppress civil society, independent media, and free expression while maintaining a veneer of legality.

“sad? ra!” by Wiklauri is a personal reflection on the atmosphere of the 2024 protests in Tbilisi, capturing their tension, energy, and hope through both music and real recorded sounds from the demonstrations. The artist describes the track as a memory of what he witnessed, shaped by his belief in Georgia’s European future.

In December 2025, Freemuse and the International Association of Arts Critics (AICA) submitted a report to the United Nations highlighting this crisis in Georgia. The report states that “repressive amendments have been rushed through parliament that criminalise symbolic protest actions, impose heavy fines, and other measures, making dissent increasingly risky.”

These measures have, in turn, been used by the Georgian authorities to detain, physically assault, and intimidate protesters, many of whom are artists and cultural workers. Furthermore, targeted attacks on cultural institutions and productions have been recorded. According to the European Theatre Convention, the Royal District Theatre faced oppression and received threats in relation to its production Liberté, with state-aligned media and religious groups condemning the work and ultra-right-wing groups mobilising outside the theatre.

Music remains

Protest songs have become central to the activism in the country, with anthems like “For Your Child” and Erekle Getsadze’s “Ajanqdi! (Rebel!)” highlighting opposition to government actions, while demonstrators have also utilised traditional folk songs to double down on their identity and rights.

Tbilisi’s techno scene—centred around clubs like Bassiani—has evolved into a powerful form of political expression, where nightlife and activism are deeply intertwined. The scene and its physical structures became safe havens for LGBTQ+ communities and progressive youth, and people involved were on the frontlines fighting for drug reform and human rights. This became highly visible in 2018, when armed police began raiding clubs, which triggered mass protests, with thousands of people raving outside parliament as an act of resistance and in protest to state repression and conservative backlash.

Those who remain in Georgia remain steadfast. Every Saturday in Tbilisi, musicians and professors from the city’s conservatory gather to march in protest. Armed with drums and traditional instruments, they create a sound that blurs the line between performance and resistance. What began as a demonstration became an exploration of performing music under pressure.

Participants describe the experience as transformative. For some, it has broken down the rigid boundaries of formal musical training, opening up new possibilities for expression. The rhythms of protest—urgent, improvised, collective—flowed back into their artistic practice.

Elsewhere, acts of resistance appear briefly and disappear just as quickly. Poetry banners are hung in public spaces overnight, only to be removed hours later. Artists and activists are collaborating more closely, united by shared constraints and a common language of defiance.

Nepali rapper and Kathmandu mayor Balendra Shah performing — Snapshot from the music video for “Balidan” by Balen.

When people think of protest music entering politics, the examples that usually come to mind are folk singers addressing different issues in their lyrics and sometimes even performing on the streets – surrounded by people demanding justice. One former hip-hop artist in Nepal did exactly that – only he took it a few steps further.

Balendra Shah, or Balen, is a musician who first rose to fame as a socially active rapper in the emerging Nep-hop scene (Nepalese hip-hop). His songs dealt with issues such as corruption and inequality and lifted up the voice of a generation of disenchanted young people in Nepal.

Nep-hop, Nepal’s growing hip-hop scene, emerged in the early 2000s and has increasingly become a platform for social commentary and political criticism among young artists.

Shah’s rise in politics began when he won a surprise victory as Mayor of Kathmandu in 2022, running as an independent candidate and defeating politicians from Nepal’s established parties. The win highlighted a major shift in the country’s political landscape, driven largely by younger voters seeking change.

Now, after his extraordinary journey from socially conscious artist to political reformer, Shah is expected to become Nepal’s next prime minister. His wild trip from underground rap battles to the top of national politics highlights just how powerful a vehicle for political change music can be.

Whether governing proves as powerful as his music remains to be seen. But if he does take office, Nepal may soon be led by a prime minister whose political vision was first delivered through music.

Here are four songs from the time Balen used a mic and a beat to effect change.

1. “Balidan” (Sacrifice)

One of Shah’s most famous songs, Balidan is an uncompromising attack on corruption in Nepalese politics. The track calls out leaders who, in Shah’s words, have betrayed the people they claim to represent.

The song resonated widely among young listeners who felt locked out of opportunity by a political system dominated by old elites. It quickly became an anthem for frustration with corruption and mismanagement.

2. “Ma Nepal Haseko Dekhna Chahanchu” (I Want to See Nepal Smiling)

While sharply critical of political leaders, this song carries a hopeful message. Shah imagines a Nepal where citizens live with dignity and opportunity rather than political instability and corruption.

The track’s vision of a better future made it particularly popular among youth activists and students calling for reform.

3. “Sadak Balak” (Street Child)

In Sadak Balak, Shah turns his attention to social inequality. The song tells the story of children forced to survive on the streets, shining a light on poverty and social neglect in Nepal’s cities.

The track showed that Shah’s political consciousness extended beyond party politics to broader questions of justice and human dignity.

4. “Nepal Haseko” (Nepal Smiling)

Another widely shared track, Nepal Haseko continues Shah’s theme of imagining a happier and more just country. Its hopeful tone contrasts with the harsh political criticism found elsewhere in his catalogue, but the underlying message remains clear: Nepal deserves better leadership.

The song has often been used at youth rallies and reformist gatherings, reinforcing Shah’s connection with a younger generation of voters.