Editor's comment
07 October, 2015
I cannot imagine an American policeman – unless I am totally ignorant of reality or utterly uninformed on the matter – who would need a written permission from the authorities for breaching the law in order for him to fulfill his obligation in due course and fashion.

There is a new law-enforcement term running around in Georgia which has practically turned into a household word – Narushilovka! What is this, and how has it come into ex
istence? Scientifically speaking, it is a fresh neologism in the Georgian language which has momentarily made its way into our linguistic tissue and grasped its own clearly-cut niche there. The word has a Russian origin – ‘нарушать’ (narushats – to breach), hence Narushilovka would mean a special permit for breaking law, issued by a law-enforcement body to a certain category of law-enforcers who need to break law for operative reasons. It is somewhat interesting to note that the spoken Georgian is still full of Russian-origin barbarisms and slang notwithstanding the fact of drastic deterioration of goodwill attitude between Russia and Georgia – the Russian cultural influence has never gone away completely, as a matter of fact. Suffice it to say that half of the TV stations on the cable here are Russian. Anyway... Let us forget this eyebrow-lifting issue for a second and go back to the main point of this editorial. The Russian word Narushilovka has acquired certain prominence in the Georgian colloquial parlance only because Narushilovka has been issued unlawfully and arbitrarily to some lay persons who have nothing to do with law-enforcement of the country. Eventually, this became a favorite theme for media. Most of the lawyers and political commentators in Georgia agree that Narushilovka has always been geotv.geused for facilitating the law-enforcement process and that there is nothing wrong with having this kind of document in circulation in the police system. I am surprised they do, and here is why! Law enforcers need to be equipped with a Narushilovka doc for having an officially endorsed permission to avoid law if this kind avoidance makes their efforts more effective. Why not – one might say – if the state and its government think that this kind of law-breakage is working to the benefit of the nation unless they are abused by criminally-minded users and their associates by kinship or friendship. On the other hand, I cannot understand why all that could not be stipulated in the functioning law or a specific by-law, reflecting the necessary details of what a law enforcer can do or cannot do in a certain circumstance. I cannot imagine an American policeman – unless I am totally ignorant of reality or utterly uninformed on the matter – which will need a written permission from authorities for breaching law in order for him to fulfill his obligation in due course and fashion. A policeman of any civilized country would probably know how to behave in a given operative situation and if he needs to do something that is not totally lawful, the state will understand him, or the selfsame state will have relevant provisions in the code that justifies the policeman’s special behavior. Why can’t law be complete, clear and comprehensive enough in Georgia too for letting the law enforcers operate effectively without having a special permit for breaking law which they are called to keep up and fulfill? What is the law which is not good and complete enough to allow its enforcers to be as effective as they should, and do this without breaking law? Explanation needed! Flashing back to funny old soviet times, so to speak, one who is aged enough to remember might easily recollect that the soviet militia (police) was quite functional and operative but it had a weird fear of an ID, issued by the-then authoritative bodies which were in abundance at that time – there were too many bosses around then. Those important ID’s were usually of dark reddish color with some serious titles embossed in gold on a leather cover. In a word, the ID looked terribly solid and scary too. It impressed people, including police. It was enough to produce the soviet authoritative ID, the doors were open and the police were tamed. It was like a universal pass everywhere. It was passable even in movie theatres for charging ahead through a ticket line. The holder felt like a wholesome person who was allowed to break law and get away with it. A lot of water has flown since those illogically organized times, and unless my memory is severely failing me, I am not exaggerating anything – it really was the way I am putting it down. This is why I am often suggesting that nothing much has changed after the demise of soviet regime: we are still drawing at the Russian language as the richest source for our everyday lingo; we are still carrying in our pockets some unlikely break-law-if-you-wish docs; we are still loath to abide by the law; we are still riding governmental chauffeured cars; and we still think that it is the state who should take care of us, not our own selves. Conclusively, the notoriously revealed and sharply criticized Narushilovka must be the pure recurrence of those bygone times when we used to be terribly different from regular civilized world, thus amazing the rest of the planet with our strange, little soviet patterns of behavior. The new ways and means are slowly coming into our modern life. Meanwhile, we are getting too tardy because the world is not at standstill, waiting for us to catch up. The world is running forward like crazy, not even knowing that we are still there, in the past.