A German politician lashed out after Angela Merkel spoke on the phone with Belarus strongman Alexander Lukashenko. But like in other hot spots, avoiding the worst along the Belarus-Poland border means casting aside moral superiority and naiveté.
BERLIN — It may well be that in just a few weeks there will be a Green Party politician at the helm of the German diplomacy. It may be co-party leader Annalena Baerbock, or someone else. Either way, what would it mean if the foreign minister was from the Green Party?
Well, we may get a hint of what could happen by looking at Green politician Omid Nouripour's reaction to outgoing Chancellor Angela Merkel's actions regarding the refugee crisis at the Polish-Belarusian border. It does not bode well.
When he heard that she'd spoken with Belarus strongman Alexander Lukashenko to try to find a solution to the crisis, Nouripour called Merkel's phone call a "devastating signal." One should never speak with dictators, the Green Party politician said.
A "very bad dictator"
Nouripour is no backbencher; the foreign policy expert's words carry real weight in his party. His assessment of Merkel's initiative in the Belarus standoff shows how the Greens would conduct foreign policy in the future: with little diplomacy, but with plenty of moral superiority and naiveté.
Talking is the only way to save lives
Socialist party candidate for Chancellor Olaf Scholz calls Lukashenko a "very bad dictator," and that is certainly true. Lukashenko has committed electoral fraud, suppressed the opposition and made dissidents disappear. And he is undoubtedly behind the crisis on the border with Poland. He wants to blackmail the West by flooding it with refugees.
Lukashenko is a problem, he must go. But Lukashenko is also the man ruling Belarus. If things need to be fixed rapidly, he is the one to talk to. And a solution must come quickly because there are thousands of people currently stranded on the European Union border. They are freezing, they are starving, they are being driven back and forth. People are dying, the situation is escalating.
And in this situation, the head of foreign policy of the Green Party complains that a phone call to the man who could most likely stop this is a "de facto recognition." Yes, it is. For this moment. But there is no way around it.
What would be the alternative to an attempt at talks with the man in power in Minsk? To wait until the opposition finds its way and ousts the dictator? That could take weeks or months, or longer. It could lead to a civil war. While people continue to freeze, starve and die on the border.
In the face of this, it is not the moment to act defiantly and give moral lessons about democracy. This is the time for diplomacy. And that means recognizing the facts, which means talking to an undoubtedly bad dictator in order to put an end to the misery of refugees on the Polish border. Talking, indeed, is the only way to save lives.
Welcome to Friday, where Indian farmers win a major victory against the Modi government after a year of protests, Austria announces a full lockdown and mandatory vaccines and the world is treated to the longest lunar eclipse in nearly 600 years. We also have a feature story from Jeune Afrique magazine that traces the international origins of twerking.
[*Gaelic]
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• Modi repeals farm laws after full year of protests: Indian Prime Minister, Narendra Modi has announced the repeal of three controversial agriculture laws that sparked year-long protests, a significant climb-down for the combative leader as important elections loom. Thousands of farmers had camped at Delhi's borders since last November and dozens died from heat, cold, and COVID-19.
• COVID update: A new U.S. study looking at the potential origins of the coronavirus outbreak points back to a market vendor in the Chinese city of Wuhan, and not to an accountant who was believed to be the first person diagnosed with the virus. Meanwhile, Austria announces a full national lockdown starting next week and mandatory vaccines in February, as cases continue to surge, just days after the government had introduced restrictions for the unvaccinated.
• Belarus clears migrant camps: The migrant camp on the Belarus-Poland border has been emptied, border guards confirmed, and some 2,000 migrants have been moved to a nearby warehouse in an apparent attempt by Belarus to defuse the crisis.
• Uganda police kill five and arrest 21 after two attacks: The police action follows two coordinated suicide bombings in the Ugandan capital of Kampala, the latest in a string of attacks claimed by the Allied Democratic Forces, an ISIS affiliate in central Africa.
• Philippine church founder charged with sex trafficking: Apollo Carreon Quiboloy, an ally of President Rodrigo Duterte, recruited young women and girls to work in the U.S. at a church called the Kingdom of Jesus Christ, The Name Above Every Name. Carreon, whom church members called "the Appointed Son of God," made the women have sex with him over the threat of eternal damnation and used their income to support his lavish lifestyle, the U.S. Justice Department has charged.
• Taiwan opens office in Lithuania, brushing aside China opposition: Taiwan has opened a de facto embassy in the capital Vilnius in Lithuania — its first in Europe in 18 years — in a diplomatic breakthrough for the self-ruled democratic island of 24 million, that China, which described the move as "egregious," claim as part of its territory.
• Exceptional eclipse: Skygazers in many parts of the world were in for a treat this morning, with the longest near-total lunar eclipse for nearly 600 years, lasting a glorious three-and-a-half hours.
Polish weekly magazine Angora reports on the situation on the Poland-Belarus border where violence has escalated this week between the migrants, most of them from the Middle East, and Polish border guards; as well as between Belarus and the European Union, which has threatened to impose sanctions on the authoritarian government of Alexander Lukashenko. Overnight, Belarus has reportedly cleared the migrant camp in an apparent attempt to ease the standoff.
Deforestation in Brazil's Amazon rainforest has increased by 22% over the past year, the highest level in 15 years, according to a report by Brazil's space research agency (Inpe). Its monitoring system shows the area has lost 13,235 square kilometers between August 2020 and July 2021. The findings come after the Brazilian government's pledge made at the COP26 to end illegal deforestation by 2028.
From Abidjan to New Orleans, shaking out the origins of twerking
Popularized by raucous music videos, sometimes considered quasi pornographic, this phenomenon has its origins in the ancestral Afro-descendant dances and advocates the liberation of the body, reports Eva Sauphie in weekly news magazine Jeune Afrique.
💃 Twerk" is in fact a contraction of "twist" and "jerk," two American dances popularized in the early 1960s — and the term was used for the first time in the 1993 song "Do the jibelee all" by DJ Jubilee, a rapper from New Orleans. "The twerk is a dance of [bodily] isolation. You move the buttocks or the pelvis separately. The rest of the body is static," explains Patricia Badin, 49, a particularly energetic twerking teacher in Paris. The goal is to let go and get the energy flowing.
♀ "We've always seen African women gather in villages and wiggle their butts in loincloths, especially during rites of passage to signify that they are fertile," says Badin. Considered by some as indecent and even pornographic, twerking is sometimes charged with perpetuating degrading images of women. "These dances are a way for people living in the ghettos to appropriate the clichés that racist whites attributed to them, such as being hyper-sexualized, being savages," visual artist Aïda Bruyère wrote in her 2018 fanzine Bootyzine.
✊ For French-Cameroonian choreographer James Carlès, there is a continuum in all Afro-descendant dances that can be explained by belonging to a community while expressing its uniqueness: "In Europe, we don't always understand this very communitarian relationship to dance, but it fascinates us. We find this recurrence in funk and blues, and in twerking too. These are dances that have participated in reappropriating one's body and sexuality." This explains the success of twerking outside the borders of Africa, especially at the time of the third feminist generation and the #MeToo movement.
French dictionary Le Robert has added the "iel" pronoun (a combination of "il" and "elle" meaning "he" and "she" in French respectively) for non-binary people to its online edition, after its researchers noticed growing usage of the pronoun in recent months — triggering heated debated and angry reactions from lawmakers and defenders of the nation's linguistic traditions. In English, the gender neutral "they" has been in use for several years by people who do not identify as male or female.
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Welcome to Tuesday, where Russia is under fire for blowing up a satellite in space, clashes erupt at the Poland-Belarus border and Leo's Beach opens again. Courtesy of German daily Die Welt, we also look at the reasons behind the major discrepancies in COVID-19 vaccination rates across Europe.
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• Biden-Xi meeting: U.S. President Joe Biden and China's Xi Jinping's more than three-hour "frank" talk concluded early this morning with the leaders of the superpowers agreeing they need to lower the temperature in what for both sides is their most significant relationship on the global stage. Still there were reports of tensions in the discussion over the question of Taiwan, in particular, as well as exchanges on trade policy, North Korea, Afghanistan and Iran.
• Russian anti-satellite missile test endangers space station crew: The U.S. strongly condemned a Russian anti-satellite missile test on Monday that endangered the International Space Station, forcing crew members to scramble into their spacecraft for safety, and that will pose a hazard to space activities for years. U.S. officials emphasized the long-term dangers and potential economic fallout from the Russian test, calling it "a reckless and dangerous act."
• Two blasts rock Uganda capital: Two explosions in downtown Kampala, Uganda's capital's city killed at least six people, sparking chaos and confusion as people fled what is believed to be coordinated attacks, the latest in a string of bombings over the past month in the African nation. One blast was near a police station and another on a street near the parliamentary building.
• Turkey arrests a man over Haiti president murder: Turkish authorities have arrested a man considered a suspect of "great interest" in the July assassination of Haitian President Jovenel Moise, announced Haiti's Foreign Minister Claude Joseph. The 53-year-old former businessman Moise, who took office in 2017, was shot dead at his private residence and his wife was wounded in the attack. More than 40 suspects have been arrested so far in the presidential slaying, including 18 former Colombian soldiers and several Haitian police officers.
• Myanmar charges Aung San Suu Kyi: Myanmar's military authorities are adding new electoral fraud charges to its targeting of ousted leader Aung San Suu Kyi, and 16 members of her administration for abuse of power, state media reported on Tuesday. The 76-year-old Nobel Peace Prize laureate Suu Kyi has been detained since the military seized power on February 1 and has been charged with a litany of offences.
• Outcry in China after dog killed in COVID lockdown patrol: A resident of Shangrao, China, posted allegations on social media Weibo that her pet dog was beaten to death by health workers inside her apartment, while she was quarantining in a hotel that didn't allow pets. The events sparked widespread anger and raised questions about extreme measures taken by the Chinese government to pursue Zero-COVID strategy. Authorities said the health worker has been dismissed from role.
• "The Beach" is back: A statement issued by Thailand's Department of National Parks announced a reopening date for one of the country's most famous attractions, Maya Bay, which had been made famous by the 2000 Danny Boyle's movie The Beach starring Leonardo DiCaprio. The beautiful bay has been closed to visitors since June 2018, as part of a rejuvenation program aimed at reviving the area's decimated corals.
"Shell opts for London," titles Dutch daily Trouw reporting on the oil giant's announcement to relocate its tax residence to the UK and move its top executives from The Hague to the British capital city. The move is part of a major overhaul for the Anglo-Dutch company, which will also drop "Royal Dutch" from its name, amid deteriorating relations with the Netherlands.
A reported 503 people were hospitalized in southern Egypt after being stung by scorpions. The venomous creatures have been driven out of their hiding places by heavy rains in the province of Aswan, where flooding killed three people.
Europe's deadly cocktail of bad policy and vaccine hesitancy
If you compare vaccination rates in European countries, you immediately notice huge differences. And this is despite the fact that the EU has provided all members with sufficient coverage. There are clear reasons of culture, history and attitudes for the gap, writes Melanie Loos in German daily Die Welt.
💉 The EU vaccination champion is Portugal, with 81%; the lowest vaccination rate is in Bulgaria, where only 22% of people are fully immunized — and Bulgaria has Europe's highest COVID-19 mortality rate. On the one hand, according to the ECDC, the large differences are due to the pandemic management of individual governments, including the different speeds of vaccine delivery and the type of vaccine supply. The EU had jointly taken the vaccine order for the member states. On the other hand, beliefs and lifestyles have a major influence on whether someone gets vaccinated or not.
🤨 Although doubts about vaccines are a worldwide phenomenon, experts consider people in Central and Eastern Europe to be particularly skeptical. Decades of Communist rule have weakened these citizens' trust in state institutions and left behind ailing, underfunded health systems, the WHO reports. Recent Eurobarometer surveys show that at least one in three people in eastern EU countries have no confidence in the public health system.
👍👎 It's also interesting to note that the better people rate their government's handling of the pandemic, the higher their willingness is to be vaccinated. Three-quarters of immunized Danes think their government handled the COVID-19 situation well. In Germany, only half of the vaccinated see it that way. Among unvaccinated Germans, only 14% are convinced of the German government's pandemic management.
— During a virtual summit between the leaders of the world's superpowers, China's Xi Jinping reportedly issued a stern warning to his U.S. counterpart Joe Biden. Chinese state new agency Xinhua quotes Xi as saying that "some people in the U.S. intend to use Taiwan to control China. This trend is very dangerous and is like playing with fire."
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The United Nations, UNICEF, Red Cross and other international humanitarian organizations seem to be trying to reach the Polish-Belarusian border, where Belarus leader Alexander Lukashenko is creating a refugee crisis on purpose.
WARSAW — There is no doubt that the refugees crossing the Belarusian border with Poland — and by extension reaching the European Union — were shepherded through by the regime of Alexander Lukashenko. There is more than enough evidence that this is an organized action of the dictator using a network of intermediaries stretching from Africa and the Middle East. But that is not all.
It can be seen in films made available to the media by... Belarusian border guards and Lukashenko's official information agencies.
Tactics of a strongman
Refugees are not led to the border by "pretend soldiers" in uniforms from a military collectibles store. These are regular formations commanded by state authorities. Their actions violate all rules of peaceful coexistence and humanitarianism to which Belarus has committed itself as a state.
Belarus is dismissed by the "rest of the world" as a hopeless case of a bizarre (although, in the last year, increasingly brutal) dictatorship. But it still formally belongs to a whole range of organizations whose principles it violates every day on the border with Poland.
Indeed, Belarus is a part of the United Nations (it is even listed as a founding state in its declaration), it belongs to the UNICEF, to the International Committee of the Red Cross, and even to the Organization for Security and Cooperation in Europe (OSCE).
Polish soldiers set up a barbed wire fence in the Border Zone near Krynki, Belarus
Each of these entities has specialized bureaus whose task is to intervene wherever conventions and human rights are violated. Each of these organizations should have sent their observers and representatives to the conflict area long ago — and without asking Belarus for permission. They should be operating on both sides of the border, as their presence would certainly make it more difficult to break the law.
An incomprehensible absence
Neither the leader of Poland's ruling party Jaroslaw Kaczyński nor even Lukashenko would dare to keep the UN, UNICEF, OSCE or the Red Cross out of their countries.
In recent weeks, the services of one UN state (Belarus) have been regularly violating the border of another UN state (Poland). In the nearby forests, children are being pushed around and people are dying. Despite all of this, none of the international organizations seems to be trying to reach the border nor taking any kind of action required by their responsibilities.
Their absence in such a critical time and place is completely incomprehensible, and their lack of action raises questions about the use of international treaties and organizations created to protect them.
A virtual unknown to most of the world a few days ago, Belarusian sprinter Kristina Timanovskaya is now at the center of an Olympic drama that has spilled over into the realm of geopolitics.
On Sunday afternoon, Kristina Timanovskaya, a 24-year-old sprinter, was taken to the Haneda Airport in Tokyo by two attendants from the Belarusian team. It would be the beginning of the most politically charged episode of the 2021 Summer Games, which has the potential to carry over into high-stakes diplomacy long after the closing ceremony.
Timanovskaya says she was taken to the airport against her will, and refused to get on the plane: "I am worried about my safety. And I think that, at the moment, it is unsafe for me in Belarus," German Die Welt reported her stating at the time.
According to the Belarusian Olympic Committee, led by President Alexander Lukashenko's 45-year old son, Viktor, the sprinter had been examined by a doctor and would not compete due to her "emotional-psychological" condition, a conclusion that Timanovskaya called a "lie."
Last week, Timanovskaya had spoken out on her Instagram account (now deactivated), saying that she would have to compete in a different Tokyo Olympics discipline, without her consent, after some members of the team were deemed ineligible for the Olympics because they had not undergone a sufficient number of doping tests, reports the Minsk-based correspondent of Le Monde. Instead of 200 meters, her specialty, she suddenly had to do the 4x400 meter relay.
Many think this public complaint is the real reason why she was supposed to be sent home, as Belarusian national television commented on the affair and condemned it as "unpatriotic behavior," the French daily reported. Meanwhile, Belarusian-language daily Zviazda quoted Siarhei Novikau, a Belarus silver medalist at the 2010 Olympic Games, saying that Timanovskaya was at fault.
As the case made worldwide headlines, the sprinter took refuge at the Polish embassy in Tokyo where she was granted a humanitarian visa, according to Poland's Deputy Foreign Minister Marcin Przydacz who made the announcement on Twitter. Shortly after, international aid started to roll in. German athlete representatives organized lawyers in Japan, and France's Europe Minister Clement Beaune spoke out in favor of political asylum in the European Union. The European Commission also condemned the events and declared its solidarity with Timanovskaya. According to Commission spokeswoman Nabila Massrali, the attempt to forcibly bring Timanovskaya to her home country, "is another example of the brutality with which Lukashenko's regime oppresses the people of Belarus. The repressive measures affect the entire Belarusian society, including athletes, and do not even stop at the Olympic Truce," Die Welt reported.
The increasing international condemnation of Belarus' actions raises questions about its future in the Olympics, as well as its growing status as a virtual pariah state. According toDie Welt, it is likely that sanctions (already in place for the Belarusian team) will be tightened, and that Belarus could be thrown out of the IOC. If that were the case, its athletes would then have to compete under a neutral flag. Poland-Belarus relations could worsen too. Poland, along with Lithuania, is considered the main supporter of the opposition in Belarus and has granted some 120,000 visas to Belarusians who have fled the country. Not only does Poland provide housing, work, and even medical care to Belarusian opposition members, it also hosts the regime-critical Belarusian television network Belsat.
As for Timanovskaya's future, she told The Associated Press that she hopes to continue her career — but for now, safety is her priority.
The shocking, mid-flight capture of a dissident journalist brings new attention to the repression taking place in Belarus, where another prominent political prisoner Kolesnikova has been locked up for months.
MINSK — Eight months before journalist Roman Protasevich was dragged from a commercial flight that Belarusian authorities essentially "hijacked," an even more prominent opponent of strongman Alexander Lukashenko's decades-old regime was seized in the middle of a street in Minsk by a group of masked men, presumably KGB agents.
Just before dawn the next day, the detainee — professional flautist and former presidential candidate Maria Kolesnikova — found herself at the Ukranian border with a decision to make: Would she do as her captors wanted and leave Belarus? Instead, the 39-year-old political dissident tore apart her passport, effectively choosing prison over exile.
"In all honesty, I wasn't surprised when I heard about what happened at the border," says Tatiana Khmomitch, the Warsaw-based sister of Kolesnikova.
Known for her prominent role in the wave of protests against President Lukashenko's recent and controversial re-election, Kolesnikova is now facing up to 12 years of prison on charges such as "conspiracy to seize power by unconstitutional means' and "creating and managing an extremist group."
Last month's shocking, mid-flight capture of a dissident journalist has reminded the world of the repression by the Belarus regime.
Kolesnikova's pre-trial detention period, which can be stretched out up to 18 months, has been extended repeatedly since the charges were brought. The latest extension, announced just two months ago, was supposed to end on May 8, but as her lawyers anticipated, Kolesnikova remains behind bars.
Tatiana Khmomitch helps maintain Kolesnikova's social media presence, keeping the public updated on how the political dissident is fairing behind bars. "I can see how much her courage inspires people," the sister explains.
She is currently sharing a 10-square-meter cell with a fellow prisoner.
From Warsaw, she is in charge of sharing brief posts on Facebook and Instagram about Kolesnikova's state of mind. "I can see how her courage inspires people," says Khmomitch, adding that her sister "remains very positive — she knows that this situation can't last forever."
Kolesnikova, a top-tier musician turned social activist, is now one of the nearly 400 political prisoners recognized by the Belarusian human rights organization Viasna. She is currently being held in a pre-trial detention center, sharing a 10-square-meter cell with a fellow prisoner. Kolesnikova is "only allowed to have direct contact with her lawyers," so her family is forced to communicate via the slow and unreliable mail system.
Maria Kolesnikova's involvement in the movement was facilitated by her relationship with Viktor Babaryko, the opposition's favored candidate for the Aug. 9, 2020 presidential election. The two met in 2018 when Kolesnikova was working as the artistic director of a cultural center he had helped develop. Though they had only known each other in this capacity, Babaryko would go on to offer her a communications position on his team.
Opposition activists carrying flowers in support of Maria Kolesnikova in Minsk, September 8, 2020 — Photo : Valery Sharifulin
The campaign started off by simply asking people to sign petitions. But as Ivan Kravtsov, who worked alongside Kolesnikova, explains: "The team prepared itself quickly for the possibility of Viktor being arrested." And part of their contingency plan, in that case, was for Kolesnikova to take over Babryko's candidacy
"We discussed various scenarios, and ultimately chose Maria because of her experience as a manager and her talent for bringing people together," says Kravtsov, a former architect who also know lives in Warsaw.
On June 18, 2020, their fears were realized: Viktor Babaryko was arrested on suspicion of fraud and money laundering, and he has been behind bars ever since. From there, an all-female trio of political opponents took form when the candidacies of Viktor Babaryko and Valeri Tsepkalo, another contender, were rejected by the electoral commission.
Maria Kolesnikova stayed, leaving her as the only opposition candidate still physically in the country.
In light of this development, people turned to Svetlana Tsikhanovskaya — the wife of imprisoned candidate Sergei Tsikhanovsky. But she and Maria Kolesnikova weren't the only women preparing to put up a fight against Alexander Lukashenko. Veronika Tsepkalo, Valeri Tsepkalo's wife, also decided to throw her hat in the ring.
When the results of the election came in, Svetlana Tsikhanovskaya secured just 10.9% of the vote, while Lukashenko, the sitting president since 1994, won 80.1% of the vote share, according to official reports.
Of the trio, Veronika Tsepkalo opted to go into exile the day before the election and Svetlana Tsikhanovskaya was forced to leave for Lithuania two days afterwards. But Maria Kolesnikova stayed, leaving her as the only opposition candidate still physically in the country. And she refused to back down, making prominent appearances at demonstrations and stirring up crowds.
"We knew we had to stay. But we were also waiting for the other shoe to drop," says Ivan Kravtsov.
He and Anton Rodnenkov were arrested the same day as Maria Kolesnikova. They were the last ones to see her in the buffer zone between Belarus and Ukraine. But when Kolesnikova tore her passport and climbed out of the car window, they decided to cross the border.
A woman holds a placard depicting Maria Kolesnikova during a rally in Kyiv, Ukraine, on 12 September 2020 — Photo : Str
Maria Kolesnikova has been rewarded for her bravery. She received both the Sakharov Prize, which was given in the fall of 2020 to all members of the opposition, and the International Women of Courage Prize by the U.S. State Department.
In Belarus, her rebellious personality continues to inspire the masses. Many Belorusian people feel encouraged by her patriotic decision to stay behind, and, for a while, people continued to celebrate her on social media. Buildings throughout the Belarusian capital were decorated with graffiti and murals in her honor. Maxim Shumilin, a photographic artist and friend of Kolesnikova since 2017, describes her as a woman who is "very empathetic...a musician, not a politician."
"Maybe that's why she's one of the main heroines of this struggle," the artists adds. "Because she is very human."
But since then, everything has changed, a reality brought into even further focus by the mid-air seizure, on May 23, of Roman Protasevich. While dreams of democracy in Belarus are still alive, systematic repression no longer allows protesters to mobilize. Anyone who shares social media posts critical of the regime or flies opposition flags in their living rooms is at risk of being arrested.
There are those who have given up, those who continue to fight for others, and those who are leaving.
Viasna reported at least 304 arrests in April alone. At the end of the month, the crackdown had become so severe that 20 people were arrested in a private steam room for "participating in a mass event not authorized by the authorities." Even the commemoration of the 35th anniversary of the Chernobyl nuclear disaster, set to take place on April 26, was banned. On the morning of the anticipated event, Belorusians awoke to find police officers deployed throughout the city, checking the contents of passersby's bags and searching through their cell phones for evidence of allegiance to the opposition.
The Protasevich case, which involved the use of a Belarusian fighter jet to force-land the plane on which the journalist was flying, brings the repression to even more alarming heights.
The words of one anonymous Belarusian protestor speak volumes: "There are those who have given up, those who continue to fight for others, and those who are leaving."
The man, who lives with his wife and children on the outskirts of Minsk, is convinced that he will be arrested at some point. "It could be today, it could be tomorrow. Either way, they will come."
Western media like to run headlines warning of a “new Cold War” every time a new conflict or act of repression occurs in post-Soviet authoritarian, But Belarus’ brazen intercepting of a Ryanair jet is something that never would have happened on either sid
-Analysis-
Is history repeating itself, only this time as a farce?
The problem is, the forced diversion of a European plane ordered by Belarus strongman Aleksandr Lukashenko — of a European company, with European passengers on board of a flight circulating within Europe — is an episode that wouldn't have even dared happen in the Cold War.
There were rules back then, worked out with difficulty by both sides in the attempt to prevent the worst from happening. There was no trust, but there were talks, with precise protocols and a thousand difficulties: Between the Kremlin and the White House, the famous "red telephone" would be used only as the last resort to stop a nuclear war, just like the one narrowly averted with the Cuban Missile Crisis.
Pieces were moved on the chessboard, and the Iron Curtain also served as a line dividing mutual safe zones: a tacit agreement prohibiting enemies from crossing over the Wall, and an escaped — or more likely, expelled — dissident could feel safe in the West.
After Belarusian opposition journalist Roman Protasevich was kidnapped, alongside an entire Ryanair plane, the world instead is facing a dictator who doesn't play by any rules.
Lukashenko is looking to clash, not communicate; and yesterday's expulsion of the Latvian ambassador was only the latest proof of that. The 66-year-old who since 1994 has been the only ruler of post-Soviet Belarus is behaving as if treaties, conventions, courts and international responsibilities didn't exist, sending a fighter jet armed with missiles to intercept a civilian airplane, force it to land and kidnapping a young journalist who now risks the death penalty.
Lukashenko is looking to clash, not communicate
The dialogue between the Soviet Union and the West during the Cold War followed a kind of code of hostility, based on the rational assumption that even enemies can try to build a system to co-exist. The problem is that Lukashenko thinks only about his regime in personal terms. He is not the son of a system or attached to an ideology that would make him feel part of a mission bigger than himself.
The Soviet Union possessed a well-structured political system and a protocol for succession. Lukashenko — a veritable populist, who came to power 20 years before the term entered common use in the region — doesn't have an ideological dictatorship, because he has no ideology. Like other examples of such neo-autocratic rulers, including Vladimir Putin, or even Recep Tayyip Erdogan, the Belarus leader is the inventor of a personality-driven regime of corruption and unlimited power that will die with him.
Each day he survives is an achievement for Lukashenko, independent from the price that is paid around him. But an even greater danger of this one-man farce is the question of what happens after he is gone.
*Zafesova is a native of Russia and former Moscow correspondent for La Stampa
Alexander Lukashenko's regime is sending more and more protesters to prison to try to prevent a new mass mobilization.
MINSK — The welcoming committee waiting for Angelina Serzhan when she was released from prison on Feb. 14 was limited to her parents, who were happy ... and worried. The hour of Serzhan's release had been postponed at the last moment. An argument soon broke out between the reunited family. "My father told me that I was responsible because I had worn politically incorrect socks," says the 20-year-old. She had taken part in the demonstrations demanding the resignation of President Alexander Lukashenko, who was re-elected on Aug. 9, 2020. She had expected to be arrested one day by the special riot police (OMON), but certainly not because of her socks.
On Jan. 30, police officers put her in a van while she was crossing a park in the capital. The reason? Serzhan, who studies fine arts in Minsk, was wearing white and red socks, the colors of the former flag of the Belarusian People's Republic. This flag became the symbol of the protest movement. At the verdict of her trial, on Skype, she was sentenced to 15 days of detention for "participation in a mass event not authorized by the authorities."
In prison, Angelina did not receive letters from her friends or any news from the outside. She was only allowed to have medicine, sent by her parents. But she quickly befriended her fellow inmates. "I met a lot of interesting people," says the girl. "I exchanged my Instagram account with girls my age and my phone number with older women."
While mass protests have ceased since the fall, Svetlana Tsikhanovskaya, the opposition figurehead in exile in Lithuania, called on Belarusians to take to the streets again on March 25 for Freedom Day. But the regime has stepped up the pressure on the country and is now hunting down opposition figures. Hanna Liubakova, a Belarusian freelance journalist, describes a "toughening of prison sentences' including an increase from 15 to 30 days in prison.
Prison strengthens the determination of the protesters.
With more than 33,000 arrests of protesters since Aug. 9, stays in detention centers have become an important facet of the protest movement. As of March 19, the human rights organization Viasna counted 288 political prisoners. This number keeps growing. "Recently, the Minister of the Interior spoke of more than 2,300 cases of politically motivated detentions," says Liubakova. "If these protesters are sentenced to years in prison, the number of political prisoners will increase."
Igor, 36, has also served time in prison. Igor works at an independent cultural institution and was arrested on his way to join a "solidarity chain" during his lunch break. In the fall, he was held for three days in Minsk's Okrestina prison. This did not deter him from demonstrating again. "People like me who have spent time in Okrestina or other prisons cannot change our minds. It's impossible to give up the fight."
Today, Igor supports those who have been detained, like Anastasia, a colleague who was arrested at her home on the morning of Feb. 18. "Apparently, it was because of the revolutionary flag in her window," he says. "We already knew what was in store for her. In recent weeks, all people arrested for white and red decorations are being detained for 15 days." Anastasia was sentenced to two weeks in prison in Okrestina.
Opposition leader Svetlana Tsikhanovskaya in exile in Vilnius, Lithuania — Photo: Imago via ZUMA Press
The conditions of detention there are said to be much harsher than elsewhere. One of Igor's neighbors, arrested in early February and sentenced to two weeks in prison, spent her first week "in a cell for six occupied by 24 people," he says. "At one point, the guards washed the floor with chlorine; two girls felt sick and were taken to the hospital. The others could not lie down to sleep."
In Minsk, the residents of the neighborhoods have set up a fund to pay fines. When one of them gets arrested, "calls are immediately made via dozens of chats on Telegram an encrypted messaging application to collect money," says Igor. The neighborhood also organizes to give gifts, send letters or be present when protestors are released. The day Igor's neighbor was released from Jodzina prison, 30 neighbors went to pick her up at the exit with flowers.
The silence of the administration on the arrivals and transfers of prisoners has prompted Belarusians to obtain this information themselves. Volunteers are stationed outside police stations or detention centers. "They put pressure on people they know in police departments and do as much as possible to share information on Telegram. In fact, they are doing the job that police officers are supposed to do," says Igor. The volunteers also advise the families of the detainees. If you are bringing packages, and the guards accept them, the sausage must be pre-cut; the toothpaste taken out of the tube.
While the crackdown spares no one, it is "especially hard" on former members of the security forces, says Sergei. This man, in his 40s, worked "19 years and three months' in a police department in Minsk. On Aug. 11, he submitted his resignation and joined the protest movement. Arrested on Dec. 13, he spent not 15 days in prison, but 37. "I know very well why they gave me such a long sentence; they were trying to build a criminal case against me," says Sergei. However, according to him, prison strengthens the determination of the protesters. "Inside, people are becoming more mature," he says.
The opponents of ‘Europe’s last dictator’ are trying to avoid loss of life and focusing new energy on labor strikes.
Two weeks have passed since the presidential election in Belarus, the results of which are disputed by the opposition. Despite the large turnout for Sunday" protests, there are signs that the movement against longstanding leader Alexander Lukashenko may be gradually dying down.
Proclaimed president of Belarus for a sixth time, Lukashenko is busy attempting to regain the initiative with the help of alternative pro-government demonstrations among his supporters — along with grim warnings that order would be restored in the country.
One particular incident may show what Lukashenko has in mind. On Saturday, 28-year-old Nikita Krivtsov was found hung in a stretch of forest on the outskirts of Minsk. The young man had disappeared on August 12 in the midst of violent clashes taking place between police and protesters in Minsk, and search teams had been looking for him ever since.
"A number of internet resources hastened to link the disappearance and death of the man with the events taking place in the country, which is not true," said the Investigative Committee of Belarus in a statement, adding that "the young man was not brought to administrative responsibility for participating in unauthorized mass events."
You're going to be dealing not with the police, but with the army.
On the website Telegram, the Maya Kraina Belarus (My Land Belarus) account distributed a video in which a man with an unusual hairstyle, beard and tattoos resembling Krivtsov approaches a line of riot police and unfurls a white-and-red flag.
It was in this febrile climate that police made announcements about "impending provocations' and the lawlessness of street protests. Preparing for the worst-case scenario, they began to assemble army and prison trucks, water cannons and trailers loaded with barbed wire in the center of Minsk.
According to the official version of events, the military had entered the city to carry out public orders given by Defense Minister Viktor Khrenin, who had promised to protect the city's World War II monuments from harm by protesters. "We cannot calmly look on as demonstrations take place in these sacred places under flags under which fascists organized mass killings of Belarusians, Russians, Jews and representatives of other nationalities," he declared. "I warn you categorically: if order and tranquility is violated in these places you'll be dealing not with the police but with the army."
The white-and-red flag, to which Khrenin was referring, was indeed used by collaborators and anti-Soviet Belarusian nationalists during World War II, though it was the state flag of Belarus from 1991 to 1995.
Besides scare tactics, the authorities also took "preventative measures." Lukashenko's recent visit to the western Belarus city of Grodno, which has recently become almost as important a hotbed of protest as Minsk, is a case in point. It is the only city in the country where local and regional officials have emerged to meet with protesters, and municipal authorities have created a Grodno Public Accord Council for dialogue with the opposition. Its location on the Polish border also makes Grodno a difficult city to manage, with Poles making up 20% of the local population.
In his speech to the citizens of Grodno, Lukashenko made it clear that any demands from the opposition were groundless, and "order in the country" must be imposed in the coming days. "As I have just said: Saturday and Sunday are for reflection. From Monday onward nobody should be offended. Those in power must be in power," he declared.
Lukashenko also framed ongoing strikes as an initiative organized by private business, aimed at suppressing rivals in the state sector. "I ask of the governor, the chairmen of the executive committees: if anyone doesn't want to work, don't force them, there's no need. But if an enterprise isn't operating, from Monday the gates will be locked, we'll shut them down, people will cool off, and we'll work out who to invite back to this enterprise," said Lukashenko.
Meanwhile, the opposition's Coordination Council has already set out its key political demand — a return to the 1994 constitution. "We are in favor of a nationwide referendum on this issue," said former diplomat and culture minister Pavel Latushko, who is part of the organization's presidium, speaking at the protests on Sunday.
In comments to Kommersant, Latushko explained that the main legal norm that attracts the opposition is the "limitation on the terms of the powers of the head of state." According to the 1994 constitution, a president of Belarus cannot be elected more than twice.
Protest will take other forms: industrial slowdowns, open or covert sabotage, disregard of orders.
Another member of the presidium, Maxim Znak, has noted that in the upcoming days the Supreme Court of Belarus must either accept for consideration or reject the complaint filed by the opposition candidate Svetlana Tikhanovskaya on the recognition of the results of the presidential elections as invalid.
"Looking at the elections in court is the only civilized means of working things out in the current situation. Refusal to accept the complaint for consideration would be a final denial of judicial protection to the presidential candidate and an abandonment of the legal avenue," wrote Znak in a Facebook post. "I continue to believe in the possibility of a juridical resolution of the crisis."
The leader of the Belarusian Congress of Democratic Workers' Unions Alexander Yaroshuk, who is organizing strike movement in the Coordination Council, told Kommersant that despite "extreme pressure," he was coordinating work on the formation of national and local strike committees.
While Yaroshuk recognizes that "blackmail and threats undoubtedly work on people," the union leader doubts that the protests will die away completely. "Most likely, the protest will take other forms: industrial slowdowns, open or covert sabotage, disregard of orders, but as we go on there will be an upsurge in the strike movement," he said. "There is no turning back. The process will not stall until Lukashenko leaves."
Forced into exile in Lithuania after the contested Aug. 9 Belarusian presidential election, Tikhanovskaya is not giving up the struggle to push strongman Alexander Lukashenko from power.
VILNIUS — After 10 days of silence, officially due to a quarantine, Svetlana Tikhanovskaya is making up for lost time. Spontaneous and initially shy, the 37 year-old surprise candidate for the Belarusian presidential election is becoming more and more assertive, revealing an iron will. Currently a refugee from her homeland, in Vilnius, Lithuania, and living with her two children, Tikhanovskaya has suddenly found herself as the top opponent of the regime of President Alexander Lukashenko. She met recently with U.S. Assistant Secretary of State Stephen Biegun, who said he was "impressed."
In an Aug 25 interview with Le Monde, Tikhanovskaya said she continues to rely on peaceful demonstrations and strikes to bring down the man described as "the last dictator in Europe."
LE MONDE: When you left your country on Aug. 11, did you do so on your own initiative for security reasons or were you expelled by the regime?
SVETLANA TIKHANOVSKAYA: It was my personal decision to join my children here in Lithuania.
Did you hesitate to resume your political activities because of the threats against your husband, who is imprisoned in Belarus?
The election campaign was difficult: Every night I had to decide whether to continue or not. The question obviously arose again after my departure. I hesitated a little, but I had no right to stop what we were doing.
Today in exile, do you feel freer to carry on your fight or, on the contrary, feel cut off?
From here, I can do more for my country. It had become difficult for me to act, to speak, to move freely in Belarus. I had to hide all the time. Here, I am safe, I can contact whoever I want, I am more useful.
You believe that the presidential election was fraudulent and the results rigged. Do you consider yourself to be the president-elect?
We all know that the official results 80% in favor of Lukashenko are false and that the majority of the voters voted for me. But the question is not who is president today, it doesn't matter. The important thing is that Belarusians can no longer trust Lukashenko, they just don't want him anymore. He doesn't have any more legitimacy. It didn't happen overnight, but little by little, what is happening is a revolution of consciences.
He may no longer have legitimacy, but he still has power. How do you intend to make him leave?
We call for all kinds of legal actions to assert our rights. All Belarusians want him to leave. They have changed, they have opened their eyes, they can no longer accept him as the head of this country after what he has done. Sooner or later he will leave thanks to peaceful demonstrations and strikes. The sooner the better to prevent the country from sinking into economic and political crisis. But everyone is prepared for the fact that this crisis may last for some time. The government knows that this movement will not stop.
I am confident that Belarusians will not want to kill Belarusians.
Lukashenko still controls the security apparatus…
Throughout the election campaign, we called on the forces of law and order to stop obeying his criminal orders. And this is still the case: Everyone is invited to join us. We know that most members of the security forces have little to feel guilty about. But those who ordered crimes will have to be held accountable and justice will have to be done. Some have already found the courage to overcome their fear and join the people. It is not an easy decision, everyone faces their responsibilities. I am confident that Belarusians will not want to kill Belarusians.
The repression is more discreet and targeted than in the days following the elections, but it is not weakening.
Of course some forces support Lukashenko, but they must understand that it is no longer useful because society has changed, fear has changed sides. People will no longer allow themselves to be taken advantage of. They know that from now on, they are no longer alone in facing the repressive machine.
What do you think about the recent images of Lukashenko brandishing a Kalashnikov in combat clothing?
I don't know what he meant. I don't even understand the message. Instead of terrorizing the population, he provoked general hilarity.
You call for free elections. Will it be necessary to change the Constitution and the electoral system beforehand?
Above all, we demand the release of political prisoners. Secondly, we want a return to the 1994 Constitution, which limits presidential mandates to two. Finally, it will be necessary to replace the Central Electoral Commission, which citizens have lost confidence in.
Lukashenko is trying to stir up the threat of a border war, but people no longer believe him.
What do you expect from the international community and the European Union in particular: sanctions against Lukashenko, aid?
We received all the support we could hope for and it was very important for us to see that we were not left to our own devices. But we have nothing to ask of our foreign friends. It is up to us to solve our internal problems. Each country knows what it has to do and decides its actions on its own. We have no demands to make.
You met with an American diplomat on Monday and you videotaped a speech in front of the European Parliament on Tuesday. Do you also intend to speak with Moscow?
Now is not the time, but we are open to dialogue with everyone. It would be great if Russia would support our struggle for our rights but I will ask Russia, as I have done with everyone I meet, to respect our sovereignty.
Are you afraid that Belarus will become a subject of confrontation between Russia and the West, as is the case with Ukraine?
What happens in Belarus has no geopolitical impact. It is a purely domestic issue. Lukashenko is trying to stir up the threat of a border war, but people no longer believe him. I don't know the intentions of Russia or other parties, but our independence is not for sale.
The national television journalists who resigned have been replaced by Russian journalists. Is this interference from Moscow?
Maybe for these Russian journalists it is just a job like any other. But, from our point of view, it is disloyal. I have seen some of their horrible propaganda videos. But no one believes it anymore.
In two very different parts of the world, seemingly impenetrable authoritarian regimes suddenly appear under siege by popular democratic uprisings. But as protesters take to the streets in Belarus and Thailand — and garner widespread international support — it still remains unclear if they'll be able to turn their mass demonstrations into tangible change.
Flawed democracy, military rule: Thailand, which for years has vacillated between periods of a flourishing if flawed democracy and straight-out military rule, has been run by generals who took over in a 2014 coup and suspended the constitution. The junta has faced sporadic protests, but General-turned-Prime Minister Prayut Chan-o-cha's victory for another four-year tem in a sketchy 2019 general election did not cause a major stir, until the recent unrest.
One-man show: In contrast, Belarus has seen next to no bona fide democracy since it became independent following the end of the Soviet Union. President Alexander Lukashenko (who has served for 26 years) recently won reelection in what is widely considered to be a corrupt race that included his opponent fleeing and seeking asylum in Lithuania. Many Belarusians had developed a sense of complacency with the man often described as Europe's last dictator — particularly in defending the small former Soviet country against its neighbor Russia.
What changed in Minsk: But the spark of revolution is drawing supporters from even his traditional base. Belarus's largest protest ever took place last weekend in the capital Minsk.
• Tens of thousands chanted "Resign" and condemned the police brutality that has led to at least two deaths and around 6,700 arrests. Accounts of torture and forced disappearances have only spurred more to join the protests.
• Opposition candidate Svetlana Tikhanovskaya encouraged collective action in a video, saying "We need to stop the violence on the streets of Belarusian cities. I call on the government to stop this and come to the negotiating table."
What changed in Bangkok: Meanwhile last Sunday in the Thai capital, an estimated 10,000 student protesters attended a rally at the Democracy Monument asking for the reform of the country's monarchy.
• The protest, organized by the Free People group — formerly called Free Youth — is the largest anti-government rally since the 2014 coup. Thatthep Ruangprapaikitseree, the group's leader, announced in a statement they will stick to three demands: They want the dissolution of the House of Representatives, a new constitution "based on the will of the people" and "the end of intimidation of critics of the government."
• This movement comes after a month of almost daily protests which took place all around the country; a Harry Potter-themed rally criticizing the monarchy drew global media attention. Dressed as Hogwarts students, the young protesters denounced "lèse-majesté" laws, which ban criticism of the royal family and can lead to 15 years in prison.
Recent protest in Minsk against President Lukashenko. — Photo: Ulf Mauder/DPA/ZUMA
• Like in Belarus, Thai authorities are using the threat of incarceration to silence both movement leaders and those protesting on the front lines.
• Thai youth are criticizing the establishment itself that is promoting obedience to authorities and tradition. They are also concerned with a worsening financial situation, with the poverty rate jumping from 7.2% to 9.8% between 2015 and 2018.
The pandemic factor: COVID-19 is raising the stakes for both the regimes and protesters in both countries.
• The tourism sector, vital for Thailand's economy, has been severely impacted. With no foreign tourists allowed into the country for months, the crisis caused millions of job losses in hotels and restaurants. According to the Nikkei Asian Review, Thailand recorded its largest economic contraction since 1999 in the quarter ending in June.
• The economy was also an important factor in Belarus: While it experienced economic growth in the first decade of the 2000s, growth especially in industrial sectors has stagnated as public debt to GDP ratios have increased. The economy is now expected to contract 2% this year because of the health crisis and decreased demand for its commodities.
Democratic takeaway: The Belarus protesters have garnered more attention and global support than their counterparts in Thailand. The UN High Commissioner for Human Rights and the president of the European Council have said they want Lukashenko to be held accountable. But the country risks turning into a proxy battlefield in a larger geopolitical landscape, as offers of military assistance from Russia are raising fears of President Vladimir Putin gaining control in the country of nine million people.
The relative diplomatic silence around Thailand since the military takeover in 2014 is a sign that the fate of the country is largely in the hands of its own people and leaders. For those risking their lives for the cause of democracy — in Bangkok, Minsk or myriad places in between — global interest in your country can cut both ways.
A Russian political analyst asks whether it is in Moscow’s interest to send military forces into Belarus in support of embattled leader Alexander Lukashenko.
MOSCOW — August. Mass demonstrations in a Slavic country. Its leader is, of course, no enemy to Moscow, but the alliance isn't quite working out the way the Kremlin would like. The temptation here is to continue in the style of the armchair analyst; this analogy proves that the protests in Belarus are destined to be … But this isn't about 2020, and it isn't about Belarus.
In 1968, the Prague Spring in Czechoslovakia lasted for a couple of months. The Czechoslovak leadership wanted to push the window open a bit and allow the population to breathe the air of freedom. Moscow thought otherwise. In those days the Kremlin didn't beat around the bush with its allies (or even vassals), so half a million soldiers and more than 6,000 tanks and armored troop carriers from Warsaw Pact nations set off for Czechoslovakia. No military hostilities took place. The leaders of the country that had yearned for "excessive" freedom were swiftly taken into captivity by Soviet paratroopers and whisked off to Moscow, and a Soviet military presence was maintained in Czechoslovakia until 1991.
The Brezhnev Doctrine, that is the readiness to intervene in the internal affairs of Warsaw Pact states in cases where the Kremlin considered it necessary, was an effective military and political instrument at the time. In today's Czech Republic and Slovakia, however, it is hard to find anyone who will justify the decision to send in the tanks as in 1968.
In a historical sense, the USSR once again appeared as the strangler of freedom: You can encounter "tanks on the streets of Prague" in almost any debate about the fate of the Soviet Union. Post-1968, after all, the United States only strengthened its position in Europe (its allies gained an additional argument about protection from the "evil empire"), and Czechoslovakia ultimately liberated itself from Soviet influence in any case. The Warsaw Pact was bound to fall apart.
Mentions of "tanks in Prague" have become increasingly common on social media.
Following two phone calls in as many days between Russian President Vladmir Putin and Alexander Lukashenko, mentions of "tanks in Prague" have become increasingly common on social media. Lukashenko has mentioned Russia's readiness to offer assistance on several occasions, and it's not hard to guess what such assistance might consist of. The two states have recalled the Collective Security Treaty Organization (CSTO), but this is applied in cases of repelling external aggression. What do hundreds of thousands of protesters on the streets of Minsk have to do with the CSTO?
I do not know what will happen and whether Lukashenko will hold on to power.
Look at any Facebook page right now and you'll find an erstwhile Ukraine expert, temporarily carrying out the duties of a Turkologist, an Orientalist, an Americanologist and a Balkanologist, and now playing the role of an expert on Belarus. They all have the answers.
I would like only to recall the recent past of Georgia and the role played by Russia in those events, since this was no less effective politics than tanks in Prague.
Russian soldiers on a tank in Prague, August 1968— Photo: Mondadori Portfolio
Nov. 22, 2003. Evening in the Georgian parliament. Protesters break into the auditorium at the very moment that President Eduard Shevardnadze is giving a speech. The security detail hurriedly escort the head of state to safety. As the street protests mount peacefully outside, demanding resignations, a young Mikheil Saakashvili Georgia's future president runs up to the rostrum and takes a sip of the president's still-warm tea. Russian TV channels cover the protests in a fashion befitting a proper mass media, allowing both sides to give their point of view, without taking sides.
In 1999 Shevardnadze had already promised to "knock on NATO's door," but Russia remained the heavyweight player in the region. So Russia's foreign minister Igor Ivanov flies to Tbilisi late at night on Nov. 22. Nobody sends in the tanks. The head of the Foreign Ministry simply arrives at the presidential residence and on the morning of Nov. 23 Shevardnadze seats him at the head of the table. The Georgian leader then sits to his left. To his right — Mikheil Saakashvili and the prime minister, Zurab Zhvania. Photographs of this symbolic meeting can easily be found on the internet. As Igor Ivanov later pointed out, it was President Vladimir Putin who phoned the Georgian leader to offer Russian help.
The end of this story is not very uplifting. Back in 2004, Russia's Igor Ivanov, who by then had passed his foreign minister post on to Sergei Lavrov to head Russia's Security Council, flew to Georgia a second time. This trip was to Batumi, where he persuaded Aslan Abashidze, the rebellious leader of Georgia's coastal province of Adjaria to abandon the country and fly back to Moscow with him. In this way, Adjaria returned to Georgia's constitutional space without blood being spilled. And Georgia's drift toward NATO continued. In 2008, Russia would even manage to take on the Georgians, "coercing them into peace." Then diplomatic ties were severed for good.
So it turns out that there aren't many good arguments for those who want to dispatch tanks to any place where an allegedly pro-Russian leader is being overthrown.
What's the point of this tedious diplomacy, if we act as mediators in negotiations between the authorities and the opposition, and the new leaders, forgetting about gratitude, run off to NATO anyway? At the very least, so that in the historical context years later we won't be reminded of this by the addition of a comma: "Prague 1968, Minsk 2020." The Kremlin will not be deploying tanks any time soon.
*Alexei Tokarev is a senior researcher at the Moscow State Institute of International Relations
Violent clashes continue to rock Belarus after opposition leader Svetlana Tikhanovskaya was forced to flee the country, following President Lukashenko's reelection.
MINSK — As protests take over Belarus, following a presidential election that many are calling rigged, a new opposition government begins abroad. Svetlana Tikhanovskaya, who lost the Sunday election to 26-year incumbent Alexander Lukashenko, is trying to gain international traction as the legitimate president of the Eastern European country.
Tikhanovskaya will manage affairs from exile in Lithuania, where she fled in the early hours of Aug. 11 after what appears to have been long and extremely distressing talks with representatives of the Belarusian authorities.
"You know, I thought that this campaign had really toughened me up and given me the strength to endure anything," Tikhanovskaya says in a video message she recorded that same morning. "But, probably, I'm still the same weak woman I was in the first place. I have made a very difficult decision for myself."
"I pray that you will never be faced with a choice like the one I found myself facing," she continues. "So, people, please take care of yourselves. What is happening now is not worth a single life. Children are the most important thing we have in our lives."
While Tikhanovskaya had sent her children to Lithuania for safety before the election, her husband, blogger Sergei Tikhanovsky, is in custody after being detained by Belarusian authorities during the election campaign — a situation that has been compared to being effectively held hostage.
Europe's last dictator has refused to acknowledge defeat.
Tikhanovskaya is one of three women who took over campaigning after their male counterparts were barred from the presidential race. They have electrified a country tired of corruption and economic stagnation, and infuriated by President Lukashenko's bungled response to the COVID-19 outbreak. Informal exit polls indicated overwhelming support for Tikhanovskaya.
But Lukashenko, who has ruled Belarus since 1994 and is often described as Europe's last dictator, has refused to acknowledge defeat, instead claiming a landslide victory of 80% of votes — and prompting enraged Belarusians to take to the streets in protest.
In response, authorities have launched a harsh crackdown, with riot police and special forces using water cannons, stun grenades and rubber bullets to disperse protesters. Clashes have resulted in thousands of detentions and widespread arbitrary beatings of protesters and passersby in cities across Belarus.
The day before Tikhanovskaya fled the country, Belarusian state television broadcasted a video recording of her that showed signs of having been recorded under duress. "I do not want blood and violence. I ask you not to resist the police, not to go out onto the squares, so as not to put your lives in danger," she appears to read with downcast eyes, sitting on a dark leather sofa. She had earlier declared that she saw herself as the legitimate winner of the elections.
Opposition supporters are convinced that the message was dictated to Tikhanovskaya following a long meeting with security officials in the offices of the Central Electoral Commission, where she had gone on Aug, 10 to register an official complaint of election fraud. The sofa and background in the video have since been matched to photographs previously taken in the office of Lidia Yermoshina, chairwoman of Belarus's Central Election Commission.
"No person in their right mind believes that Tikhanovskaya recorded this video voluntarily," says Lithuania"s President Gitanas Nausėda. "It's just one piece of evidence of what methods the regime uses to break individuals and the spirit of the people."
Belarusian border authorities have confirmed that she left the country at the Kotlovka border crossing at around 3:30 a.m. on Aug. 11.
Government in exile?
Lithuania's foreign minister Linas Linkevičius said that the country may become not only a refuge for Belarusian opposition figures, but also a partner that shares their goal for a democratic Belarus. "We think that we now need to make some corrections in our position toward Belarus," says Linkevičius. "I think all options and opportunities for choice should be on the table, and there should be certain consequences, including even probable sanctions, for those who have carried out this fraud, who have used excessive force."
Linkevičius offered Vilnius"s services as a mediator in potential talks between the current Belarusian authorities and opposition, and Warsaw has made a similar suggestion.
Opposition figure Valery Tsepkalo, who was blocked by the authorities from registering as a candidate for the 2020 presidential elections, told Kommersant on Aug. 11 that the Belarusian opposition intends to turn to the international community for support.
"We have called for a conference, an EU summit, with the invitation of interested parties, that is, of course, primarily Belarus's neighbors," Tsepkalo says. "There we will present documents of the falsifications, about how the electoral process was conducted. Countries can then decide whether the election process in Belarus met elementary norms and who as a result is the real winner of these elections."
Tsepkalo also shared details of the duties of the Committee of National Salvation, the creation of which was announced on Aug. 11. This will effectively function as a government in exile. "We will form an economic unit, a legal unit ... We have many people from the security bodies who have followed us in accordance with their conscience and the law," he said. "We'll see — perhaps the committee will gradually grow into the future government of Belarus, which will carry out free democratic elections."
Women-led marches & worker strikes
Meanwhile, the Belarusian authorities are doing everything in their power to convince the population that the protests are over, and that the leader of the opposition has abandoned her supporters.
The prediction that with Svetlana Tikhanovskaya out of the picture, the protests would just peter out, turned out to be rather misguided. On Aug. 12 and 13, hundreds of women marched through the streets of Minsk and other cities dressed in white, holding flowers aloft. Medical professionals and taxi drivers have also joined the demonstrations.
Authorities are doing everything in their power to convince the population that the protests are over.
However, the most significant development is a number of large factories announcing strikes. The Minsk Electrotechnical Plant was first, followed by the Zhabinovsky sugar factory, the Minsk Tractor Plant and the Keramin ceramics plant. Hundreds of workers have walked off the job, putting their livelihoods on the line while facing potential arrest.
The leader of the Belarusian Congress of Democratic Workers' Unions (BKDP) Alexander Yaroshuk told Kommersant that there were serious risks associated with this form of protest in the country. "In Belarus there are absolutely no opportunities to legally go on strike," he says. "In Russia workers bear no responsibility for participation in a strike, even if a court subsequently proclaims it illegal. In Belarus this ends in the best case scenario with dismissal and in the worst, with a criminal case being opened."
The last successful strike in Belarus was in 1992, with miners achieving a pay raise. Since Lukashenko's election, there has been only one strike, in 1995. Striking subway drivers were brutally suppressed and ultimately lost their jobs. Now, 25 years later, protestors once again took to the Minsk subway this week. One man jumped on the rails and blocked a train, holding a poster reading, "Stop killing and maiming people." Authorities quickly shut down stations in attempts to stem demonstrations. But despite the threats to their lives and with their own "Joan of Arc" in exile, Belarusians seem undeterred in finally gaining their democratic freedoms.
A largely unknown figure until recently, candidate Svetlana Tsikhanovskaya is now challenging to end the 26-year presidency of Alexander Lukashenko.
Until a few months ago, she was just a simple housewife. An anonymous mother, modest and self-effacing, living in the shadow of a husband who had become a star on social media, a talkative and politicized man, ready to fight the power.
But on the evening of July 26, in Gomel, a small town in Belarus, it was she, Svetlana Tsikhanovskaya, who was greeted by a crowd of several thousand people. All around, supporters swayed their illuminated telephones to the tune of L'Estaca, the Catalan song that Spaniards sang to free themselves from Franco. It's the same song that the Poles of Solidarnosc used to hum before the fall of the communist regime.
That night, the 37-year-old Tsikhanovskaya solidified her position as the opponent determined to end the reign of Alexander Lukashenko, the first and only president of Belarus since the collapse of the Soviet Union. The two face off this coming Sunday, Aug. 9, in the country's high-stakes presidential election. "I am no longer afraid," she told her audience.
In the capital Minsk, the same scene is repeated, captivating politicians who believe they are witnessing the birth of a "women's revolution." It's a revolution of women because Svetlana is not alone. At her side are Veronika Tsepkalo and Maria Kolesnikova. All three speak in the absence of their male counterparts.
Thinking that like him, voters would despise a woman who cannot even hold a gun, Lukashenko allowed Tsikhanovskaya to run.
Svetlana Tsikhanovskaya, the first, launched her candidacy to replace her husband, Sergueï Tikhanovski, an ultra-popular YouTuber. Tikhanovski had sounded the anger of everyday Belarusians against Lukashenko's excesses and his disastrous management of COVID-19, and was detained, as a result, in late May.
The second, Veronika Tsepkalo, is the wife of Valery Tsepkalo, who fled Belarus with his wife and children after the country's electoral commission, on July 14, declared his candidacy ineligible. The third, Maria Kolesnikova, is the campaign manager of Viktor Babariko, a former banker who was put behind bars for alleged tax abuses.
Scared but defiant
Thinking that like him, voters would despise a woman who cannot even hold a gun, Lukashenko allowed Tsikhanovskaya to run, refusing all other candidates deemed "serious." No one imagined that the blogger's wife would run a real campaign. The apolitical, lonely and frightened Tsikhanovskaya knew that the authorities could take away custody of her two children on the slightest pretext.
She assured her children — Agnia, 4 and Korney, 7 — that their father was "on a business trip." They have now been moved to an undisclosed EU country. And Tsikhanovskaya, supported by Tsepkalo and Kolesnikova, has discovered a new strength.
"What is happening to us is unprecedented," says Andrej Dynko, a Belarusian journalist. "We all thought Tsikhanovskaya would be just a "static" candidate, but she manages to stir up crowds in Minsk and elsewhere, which is unheard of. Usually, the protest is concentrated only in the capital."
Alesia Rudnik, a political analyst at the Center for New Ideas, a Belarusian think tank, agrees. "Alexander Lukashenko was no doubt counting on the misogyny of the Belarusian people. But Tsikhanovskaya was more astute. She remains a woman, in the traditional sense of the word, who acts out of love for her country and her husband," Rudnik explains.
Tsikhanovskaya's goal, she says, isn't to take power but to give it back. If elected, she promises to organize democratic and transparent elections so that the people can finally choose their president. In her meetings, there is no question of ideology: left, right, liberalism or socialism. What is at stake is to put an end to Lukashenko's more than a quarter-century-long reign.
"Tsikhanovskaya is to play the role of the Belarusian Joan of Arc. I told her that. I believe in her," says Valery Tsepkalo, who was interviewed on July 29 from Moscow, where he had taken refuge. But he's also "afraid for his wife." Tsepkalo said on July 30 that his sister had been kidnapped by unknown perpetrators for a few hours before being interrogated by the police, but remained determined to continue the fight.
"We have a real chance of winning the presidential election this time," he says. "You can feel the wall starting to crack. Everything will depend on the electoral authorities."
The COVID-19 effect
Indeed, there's a real sense that the head of state has lost the hearts of voters. In the streets of Minsk, people have spray-painted "Sasha 3%," in reference to the dismal level of support that Alexander (Sasha) Lukashenko still commands.
It's a made up number, and likely an exaggerated one. Polling isn't allowed, though some unofficial studies suggest that 25-35% of voters still back him. That's higher, obviously, than 3% but much lower than the 80% support he has claimed in every election since 1994, and now lower than that of his rival Svetlana Tsikhanovskaya, who is credited with just over 35% of the vote.
So what happened to Lukashenko? More specifically, why is this happening now?
Analysts point to the COVID-19 pandemic as the tipping point. "After years of crisis that wore down the government, the coronavirus served as a trigger," says Tadeusz Giczan, a Belarusian researcher based in London.
"There was a kind of social contract between the president and the Belarusian people based on the idea that the lack of freedoms was compensated for by the protection offered against the Russian neighbor," he adds. "With him, there would be no annexation like in Crimea. He was the protector president."
Alesia Rudnik says that by scorning the dangerous nature of COVID-19 — which he described as a "psychosis' that is treated in the open air and with a shot of vodka — the so called "father of the people" betrayed his citizens. "Belarusians had become apolitical and resigned," she says. "They observed repression in Minsk, but it only affected them on the margins. The coronavirus threatens them directly. It forced them to think."
Nobel Prize winner Svetlana Alexievitch agrees. "Lukashenko thought he could deceive the society that had become silent by telling stories and scaring them," she explained in a July 22 interview with Radio Free Europe. "But that's not what happened. A new generation has grown up and people have regained consciousness. These are not the same people who existed 26 years ago, when Lukashenko began to rule."
Pointing fingers
Faced with what could be the beginning of his end, Lukashenko is isolating himself and brandishing the threat of armed repression. He is fleeing large gatherings, becoming more reluctant to grant accreditations to the foreign press and visiting his military bases.
"Our task is to prevent the destruction of the state," says Andrei Ravkov, the state secretary of the National Security Council. On July 28, pro-government television broadcasted footage of the training of the so-called "3,214" unit attached to the Ministry of the Interior. The troops, described as "zombies' — they are said to have been brainwashed in order to devote themselves to "saving the country and the president" — have been called upon to disperse crowds in recent riots.
The human rights organization Viasna claims that more than 1,100 people have already been arrested and detained since the first demonstrations in May. Lukashenko is threatening to take even more extreme measures if he has to. "There will be no Maidan in Belarus," he warned in June, in reference to the popular uprising in Ukraine that overthrew the government in 2014.
The president is convinced that the Belarusian uprising is the result of a manipulation of foreign forces from the East or West. This theory was supported by the July 29 arrest of around 30 alleged members of Wagner, a private Russian militia. Accused of being Kremlin thugs, these men are suspected by the Belarusian authorities of "preparing acts of terrorism" aimed at destabilizing the presidential campaign.
There will be no Maidan in Belarus.
Russia, for its part, denies any interference. "Russia and Belarus are allies, the closest partners," says Kremlin spokesman Dmitry Peskov. Researcher Tadeusz Giczan points out that the "foreign interference" story is repeated during every election, but says this is the first time that Lukashenko made Russia the target of his claims.
It falls, falls, falls
As the elections approach, no one really dares to believe in a revolution for Belarus. But there is hope that Lukashenko can begin to contemplate his successor. "We don't believe there will be free elections, but we believe that the president will understand that his time is up. The people no longer want him," says Svetlana Tsikhanovskaya.
Little wonder that in the town of Gomel, it was L'Estaca that Tsikhanovskaya's supporters chose to sing out.
If we all pull, it will fall
and it will not endure for long,
it is sure that it falls, falls, falls,
it should already be well rotten.
If you pull hard here,
and I pull hard there,
it is sure that it falls, falls, falls,
and we can liberate ourselves
Four days later, in Minsk, tens of thousands of the candidate's backers took part in the country's the largest opposition gathering in at least a decade. Vasnia, the human rights group, estimates that at least 63,000 turned out.
More than a show of support, it was also an act of defiance given the threat of repression by Lukashenko's security apparatus, which continues to jail opponents and accuse them of organizing "riots' with the help of Russian paramilitaries.
People are taking to the streets in a challenge to the country's long-serving president, Alexander Lukashenko, who expects to win a sixth term in next month's elections.
-Analysis-
President Alexander Lukashenko of Belarus can't, by his own admission, afford to behave democratically. "I could lose the whole country," the long-serving leader said after the recent arrests of several opposition presidential candidates.
In the meantime, police are arresting participants in peaceful demonstrations. Journalists have been detained as well — live on air. Lukashenko has an explanation for that as well: It's to thwart an international conspiracy aimed at destabilizing the country before the presidential election.
Why all this if, until recently, authorities let the demonstrations take place without intervention?
It's because the leadership sees that after 26 years of one-man rule, people are running out of patience, especially in light of Lukashenko's approach to the pandemic, which his government completely denied until recently. The president is worried, therefore, about the elections — afraid that they may not go according to plan.
Belarusians compare the government's attitude towards the COVID-19 pandemic to the Chernobyl tragedy. In both cases, there was an information vacuum, a total lack of transparency, and people died unnecessarily as a result.
To prevent coronavirus infection, Lukashenko advised citizens to follow personal hygiene habits. He said that from time to time, people should "disinfect themselves from the inside with something stronger." They should drink vodka, in other words. He also said they should work — especially in the fields.
Lukashenko described the virus as a psychosis and let the police arrest opposition media that criticized the inaction of the authorities and questioned the government's coronavirus statistics.
In the beginning of April, he still claimed that no one in the country would die of coronavirus. The World Health Organization recommended that Belarus introduce limits on gatherings. But with no state of emergency declared, people kept going to work, schools or stadiums to watch soccer matches. Belarus was also the only post-Soviet country to hold a military parade marking the anniversary of the end of World War II in Europe. The event attracted mass participation.
As of June 22, the virus infected approximately 60,000 in Belarus and killed 340. The number is based on official statistics, which are probably strongly underestimated.
The assumption was that people will be too busy with the pandemic to pay much attention to politics.
The government's hands-off approach to the pandemic resulted in the country taking practically no action. The disease spread rapidly as a result, and instead of informing the public, official information providers equivocate.
Evidence has emerged that doctors are forced to falsify the causes of death on death certificates. As in Russia, pneumonia is the most reported cause instead of coronavirus. The only verifiable evidence of the current situation in the country are overcrowded hospitals and testimonies from medics and families of victims, who are intimidated by the authorities to remain silent.
The government decided to take advantage of the situation and hastily announced a date for the presidential election: August 9. The assumption was that people will be too busy with the pandemic to pay much attention to politics, and that everything would thus play out as usual, that Lukashenko would win yet another term — his sixth.
Since then, however, people have taken to the streets, and in larger numbers than in the buildup to past presidential elections. Many of the participants are people who had previously supported Lukashenko or were not interested in politics. The protesters claim to represent 97% of the country, since according to independent surveys, Lukashenko's popularity has dropped to just 3%. This number has become a symbol of the current demonstrations.
The three most prominent opposition presidential candidates in this year's election are blogger Sergei Tikhanovsky, former director of the Belgazprombank Viktor Babaryko, and former diplomat Valery Cepkalo. The first two were arrested before they finished collecting signatures for their candidacy, after authorities "found" compromising material during house searches. They risk several years behind bars.
Immediately afterwards, two other candidates voluntarily resigned from the election race. Tikhanovsky's signatures, which must reach at least 100,000 for registration, were taken over by his wife Svetlana, who was threatened by the Belarusian authorities that her children would be taken away right after announcing her candidacy.
Babaryko, who has by far the most support and collected almost half a million signatures, was arrested together with his son on their way to the Central Election Commission, where they were taking more signature sheets for candidacy registration. Also, Belarusian criminal authorities launched an investigation into Belgazprombank's leadership for corruption and financial embezzlement. Babaryko ran the bank for 20 years before resigning in May to run in the presidential election.
In response to the intimidation of opposition candidates, Belarusians braved a heavy rain last month to form a human chain of solidarity that stretched several kilometers along the main avenue in Minsk. Every day, the chain extends to other cities and passing cars honk in solidarity. The movement involves everyone from students to retirees.
Security forces arrest people regardless of age, and sometimes non-uniformed men are seen cramming protesters into unmarked cars. A journalist at Radio Freedom, Alexandra Dynka, was detained together with a cameraman while filming a live report from the demonstrations. During the peak of the protests, the regime also turned off mobile data so people could not share the events online.
Frustrations built up over many years are boiling over.
There is a sense of tension and frustration in Belarusian society across all its layers. The coronavirus crisis has opened the eyes of those who typically shunned politics, even if they knew already that the regime is corrupt and dishonest. What changed is the painful realization that the state has been unable and unwilling to provide its citizens with the basic protections and treatments needed in the pandemic. That's what drove a record number of people into the streets.
Officials, as a result, see themselves on the edge of the same abyss that Ukrainian President Viktor Yanukovych and Armenian leader Sergeant Sargsjan fell into recently. Exacerbating the situation even more are Lukashenko's claims about exposing an international terrorist center plotting a coup, his use of derogatory names to insult opponents, and comments about how Central Asian rulers bring order to their countries with assault rifles in their hands.
The authorities are trying to intimidate the population, but frustrations built up over many years are boiling over. So far the movement shows no signs of abating, because in the prevailing opinion, the situation cannot get any worse, especially with a global economic crisis approaching.
Belarus is completely unprepared, and the public knows it. No one is convinced by Lukashenko's claims that "tomorrow will be better." Instead, those kinds of shabby phrases just make people angrier still.
What's also certain is that the regime will cheat in the August elections, and that it will not allow any major opposition candidate to participate. Everything else will depend on the level of violence the regime will resort to and how angry Belarusians really are.
*This article was translated with permission of the author, an analyst at the Research Center of the Association for International Affairs who focuses on Russia, Eastern Europe and the Caucasus. She also works at the Faculty of Arts at Charles University.
MINSK — Following the Nov. 17 elections for Belarus" lower house of parliament, independent observers and opposition politicians unanimously rated this campaign as one of the dirtiest in the 25 years of Alexander Lukashenko's rule. The 65-year-old president of Belarus has once again demonstrated that he is not going to adjustthe eastern tilt of his country's development: the West's democratic values clearly scare him far more than the threat of anschluss from Russia.
Opposition campaigns, television programs and the written press were rudely censored or banned altogether if any direct attacks on Lukashenko were spotted. The turnout data was significantly overstated, the independent observers were deleted, and the process of counting votes was utterly opaque. "These elections have demonstrated a complete lack of compliance with democratic commitments," said Margaret Soderfelt, head of the local mission of the Organization for Security and Cooperation in Europe (OSCE), which monitors elections.
A cold shower for all optimists.
The final composition of the parliament looks to carry no true political weight: 110 loyal deputies and not a single oppositionist got into the lower house. Attention was reserved for only new face: Maria Vasilevich, the 22-year-old "Miss Belarus-2018."
The election's outcome came as a cold shower for all optimists who dream of gradual democratization. A minimum nod of decency and the admission of 3 or 4 opposition members to parliament could have sufficed to help in negotiations with the European Union. However, the Belarusian authorities decided that there was no such need.
Counting the voices during the July 2019 snap parliamentary elections in Ukraine — Photo: Vyacheslav Madiyevskyy/Ukrinform/ZUMA
Five days before the election, Lukashenko paid an official visit to Vienna. The Austrian voyage was just the second trip of the Belarusian leader to Europe over the past 10 years, after a purely symbolic 2016 visit to Rome. There was every reason to expect more from the current visit to Austria, because Belarus is facing extreme pressure from the Kremlin, and desperately needs Western support, including financial aid. However, meetings with top officials of Austria turned out to be insignificant, as Lukashenko mainly advertised the Belarusian order and discipline and also convinced interlocutors that everything is fine with human rights in his country.
Of course, no one expected Lukashenko in Vienna to announce Belarus' intention to join the EU. But he could have, for example, declared a readiness to introduce a moratorium on the death penalty to join the Council of Europe (Belarus is the only European country that is not a member of the Council of Europe). However, Lukashenko made it clear that there will be no change in the course. "We do not ask the Council of Europe. If you take us, thanks. If you don't, we'll wait. Don't set conditions for us," said Belarusian president.
Still, Lukashenko is also sharpening his tone with the Kremlin, threatening to refuse to sign an integration agreement with Moscow. "If our fundamental issues are not resolved (regarding the supply of hydrocarbons, the opening of proper markets for our goods, the removal of barriers, etc.), no road maps can be signed," he said.
There is growing alarm about the country's sovereignty in the face of Russian ambitions.
Across Belarus society, there is growing alarm about the country's sovereignty in the face of Russian ambitions. After the 2014 annexation of Crimea, the Belarusian president realized that Putin poses a real threat. But for Lukashenko, Moscow is only one of the threats to his power along with the West and the domestic opposition. And he may consider Russia to be the least of the dangers.
Moreover, today's Russia shares a mentality with Alexandr Lukashenko: the cult of power, contempt for human rights, anti-Westernism and a certain nostalgia for the USSR.
So what has this most recent, and notably filthy election campaign told us? It seems that Lukashenko is nervous. When the Belarusian regime felt confident, he could afford to at least pretend to lean toward liberalization and allow a couple of critics into parliament, as he did in 2016. Now the real threat of takeover is looming, economic prospects are dim, and Lukashenko himself, for a long time, has lost faith that the people actually support him.
Thus, any freedom frightens him, and there can only be one solution: tighten the screws inside the country, while negotiating for the best deal possible with the Kremlin.
*The author is an independent Belarusian journalist
