Carrying the Abkhazian Flag Across Europe: An Interview with Zeki Kapba

Zeki Kapba was born in Albızbey, an Abkhaz village in the Efteni area of Düzce, and learned Abkhaz before he learned Turkish. He has spent close to fifty years in Germany, most of them working as a mechatronics technician. He has also spent most of them working, in one way or another, for Abkhazia. When Georgia invaded in August 1992, he joined the European Abkhaz Crisis Committee, took part in campaigning that reached the Council of Europe and the European Parliament, and later sat as a member of the delegation at the Geneva talks, first after the war of 1992 to 1993 and again after August 2008.

Readers with long memories will know his name from kapba.de. Launched in 2001 and 2002, when the country was under the embargo imposed by the Commonwealth of Independent States and a telephone call to Sukhum was both difficult and expensive, it was among the first multilingual websites to carry information and news about Abkhazia to anyone who cared to look. For years it was one of the few places to look.

His more recent method of getting Abkhazia in front of people is slower and considerably more physical. In the summer of 2026 he completed the first section of the Rhône route, seven stages and 610 kilometres running from Italy through Switzerland into France, with an Abkhazian flag fixed to his bicycle. He is not the first person to have discovered that a flag no one recognises is a more effective conversation starter than a flag everyone does. On the stage between Vouvry and Geneva he acquired a story that no amount of planning could have produced.

We spoke to him about the road, the flag, the questions strangers ask, and the long unglamorous work of keeping a diaspora community awake to itself.

To begin with, would you tell us a little about yourself for readers who do not know you?

I am Abkhaz, born in Albızbey (Aksu village) in the Efteniye area of Düzce. I have lived in Germany for around fifty years. After finishing school I began vocational training, and after three years I started work as a mechatronics technician. That is still my trade.

In 1992, when the war began following Georgia's invasion of Abkhazia, I took an active part in the European Abkhaz Crisis Committee, which had been set up here in Europe. I was involved in a great many events, including at the Council of Europe and the European Parliament. I took part as an active member of the delegation in the Geneva process that began once the war had ended, and again in the Geneva process that followed the August 2008 war.

As an Abkhaz who grew up in Germany, do you remember the first time you described yourself as 'Abkhaz'?

I have been aware of being Abkhaz for as long as I have been aware of anything. I was born in an Abkhaz village, in a part of Turkey where Abkhaz live in large numbers, and I lived there until I was fourteen. Abkhaz was the first language I learned. I began picking up Turkish at four or five.

You have just completed a cycle tour that began in Italy and ran through Switzerland into France, and you did it carrying the Abkhazian flag. Where did the idea come from?

It grew out of an interest in sport that I have had since childhood, although I only took up cycling seriously later in life. Day rides turned into two and three day rides, and then into week long tours. A large Abkhazian flag has always hung in one corner of my home. When some of the small flags that people clip to car windows and doors came into my hands, it occurred to me that there was no reason not to take one with me on tour. The first time was in 2023, on the 1,800 kilometre Rhine route, when I fastened the flag to my pannier.

I had been flying it from the car on Abkhazian Flag Day well before that, though. I also ran the Berlin Half Marathon carrying an Abkhazian flag and wearing a shirt in the design of the flag.

How did the journey work in terms of route, distance and time? How did you prepare, how many kilometres did you average, and where did you stay?

Long distance tours require preparation and training, of course. A tour of one or two weeks has to be broken into stages according to the terrain and the distance involved, and it takes a good plan to cover those stages within a set period. How many kilometres can be ridden in a day, where to stay the night, what food to carry, which energy and recovery drinks are needed: all of it has to be taken into account. Depending on conditions, I cover between 70 and 100 kilometres a day. The longest I have ridden in a single day was 145 kilometres. I usually stay in hotels, motels or guesthouses.

How do people react when they see the flag? Does anyone recognise it, or do you find yourself explaining Abkhazia from scratch? What was the question you were asked most often on the road?

People are naturally curious about something they have not seen before and know nothing about. Many ask whether it is the flag of a state, where the country is, and then a great many further questions about the country itself. What is interesting is that people from the former Eastern bloc tend to know more about it.

On the Vouvry to Geneva stage of my most recent tour, as I was riding through Evian, I noticed a woman running after me and calling out. I stopped, and she came up, pointed at the flag and asked why I was carrying it. After a short moment of surprise, and of not quite understanding one another, we embraced. It had never once crossed my mind that I would run into Alyona Kuvichko, from Abkhazia, whom I had last seen sixteen or seventeen years earlier.

Zeki Kapba with Alyona Kuvichko in Evian, sixteen years after they last met.

Was there a moment that really tested you?

There was, of course. The weather, heat and cold, rain, and changes in terrain are the greatest difficulties on tours of this kind. Picture yourself climbing in the Alps, or descending. Within three to five hours you gain or lose hundreds of metres of altitude. Alongside the physical limits, your mental and psychological limits are tested as well. You have to be fit and properly trained.

Do you think pedalling with a flag can do something that official channels and diplomacy cannot? Do you see the journey as a way of telling a story?

I do not think it makes a great deal of difference, but I do believe that on a very small scale I have introduced and represented my country. On the tours of the past three or four years I have seen hundreds of people ask about the flag out of curiosity, want information, and take a genuine interest.

I saw for myself during the Geneva talks how difficult political obstacles are to overcome. The greatest obstacle in front of us is, without question, the tireless campaign that Georgia, and the countries supporting Georgia, wage against Abkhazia's independence. We can see the pressure applied to states that intend to recognise Abkhazia officially. The decision by the Republic of Nauru, which had recognised Abkhazia, to reverse that recognition is one of the results of that pressure.

What are your plans after this journey? Is there another route, another project waiting?

I have completed the first part of the Rhône route, seven stages and 610 kilometres in total. I plan to complete the second part, four stages and 330 kilometres, in September. Beyond that I have several other projects partly planned.

We should also talk about kapba.de, which you ran for many years. It was one of the first websites about Abkhazia, and it kept going as a multilingual site. How did the idea come about, what year did you set it up, and what were you trying to do?

Yes, kapba.de was one of the first websites offering information and current news about Abkhazia. In 2001 and 2002 it was all but impossible to reach the country. I set the site up in order to ease, at least a little, the difficulty of reaching an Abkhazia that was under embargo from the Commonwealth of Independent States, led by the Russian Federation. For many years I shared information and news in different languages. The site is still online, although I have not updated it for a long time, because it is fair to say that the barriers to reaching Abkhazia have gone. The exchange of information works perfectly well now.

In those years, when the internet was still in its infancy and reliable information about Abkhazia was almost impossible to find, what did publishing something like that involve? How did you find and translate your sources, and did anyone help you?

It was not easy, of course. Information and news had to be obtained by roundabout means. Telephone connections were very limited and quite expensive. I also drew on the limited historical material available in Turkish and Russian, and in English and German as well.

How is the Abkhaz diaspora in Germany, and in Europe more broadly, faring today? Do you have contact with the diaspora in Turkey? What would you say to the younger generations growing up in Europe?

I served for many years on the board of the Abkhaz Cultural Association founded in the Dortmund and Hagen area in the late 1980s. Through language courses, a folklore ensemble, sporting activities and exchange visits with other Abkhaz associations, and with Circassian associations too, I believe we passed on a great deal of valuable knowledge to young people about who they are, about our cultural inheritance, and about our customs and traditions.

With the outbreak of the Abkhaz-Georgian war, Abkhaz identity came to the fore and interest in our ancestral homeland reached its height. It has to be said that in recent years both that momentum and cultural activity have entered a period of stagnation. My greatest wish is that the new generation will revive the work we began and carried on for many years with great dedication, and pass it on to the generation that follows them.

Thank you.