Front Lines of Belarusian Protests
In case of nuclear explosion, take iodine pills.
Did you know that? I didn’t. But I don’t live within the blast radius of a poorly constructed nuclear powerplant.
Yet the safety of the newly constructed nuclear powerplant at Astravets, Belarus, that many fear could bring about the second Chernobyl disaster, isn’t even top of mind for Belarusians.
No, they fear something more imminent. The wrath of their derailed, misogynistic, dictator who recently turned to Putin for saving.
Maybe you’ve seen some of the news reports.
After rigging an election, Belarus’s regime beats protesters. The Economist, August 2020.
“‘The president will be a man… Our constitution was not written for women. And our society isn’t ready to vote for a woman.’ — [President Lukashenka].” Radio Free Europe, August 2020.
Belarus Forces Down Plane to Seize Dissident; Europe Sees ‘State Hijacking’. NYTimes, May 2021.
When Wearing The Wrong Socks Or Dancing Is A Crime In Belarus. Radio Free Europe, July 2021.
Missing Belarus Opposition Activist Found Hanged in Kyiv Park. Al Jazeera, August 2021.
Lukashenko Called the Polish City of Bialystok and Lithuanian Vilnius ‘Belarusian Lands’. Ukraine Today, September 2021.
That one about an activist found hanged in a park scared me. See, I was already in Vilnius when I heard the news. This was just a day or two before my wife would leave for the US and I would start living on my own in Vilnius for a month.
My friend I was with that night who lives in Vilnius reassured me. “If you ever think it starts getting dangerous, I’ll get you to Barcelona.”
Sounded like a plan to me. My wife and I talked about it, and we agreed that it would be safest for me to keep my head down while I spent my month in Vilnius.
No social media. No public posts. At least not until I’d be back in the states.
Were we paranoid? Probably.
But I was once put on a list and banned from entering a John Kasich presidential rally. You never know what these power-hungry people are thinking of doing next.
So, my wife left for the US, I had my Barcelona back-up plan, and it was time for me to begin my monthlong sabbatical. My first full day alone, I sat on a bench at Lukiškių Plaza. At the edge of the plaza stands a building that was once a seat of Hell.
The Nazi Gestapo established their Lithuanian headquarters here, engineering the Holocaust of Lithuania’s Jews. After the Holocaust, the Soviet Communists established their local headquarters here, implementing Stalin’s Reign of Terror and tyranny for decades.
My wife’s grandfather was imprisoned here. We wonder if he was held in the dark cell filled with ice water that only had small pedestals to stand on for hours. Or maybe he was held in the cell with padded walls meant to extremely isolate the prisoner tied to the wall in a straightjacket.
It was in front of this building that I started to see a crowd gather draped in flags of white, red, white. Colors meant to tear down prison walls.
Feels symbolic.
I join the crowd, and there are people handing out pieces of paper. I message a Belarusian friend for a translation. „Leave!“.
I know what it really means, and I fully support it. Leave Lukashenka. Your reign is done.
I’m in the crowd, and I don’t know what language to speak. In English, I approach one gentleman who was also standing alone. Lucky me, he’s Lithuanian and we continue in Lithuanian.
Not just any Lithuanian, here was a man who was on the city council of Vilnius when Lithuania declared its independence from the Soviet Union. He told me a story of his time visiting the US so soon after independence that US customs didn’t recognize his Lithuanian passport.
We listen to the speeches. Well, at least I was around for them. I don’t speak Russian or Belarusian so I thought I’d at least be there in person to show my own solidarity.
Then a trumpet begins to play a tune I recognize called “Разбуры турмы муры”, or “Destroy the Prison Walls”. The song has been the main theme of the Belarusian opposition movement.
I begin videotaping and, well….I’ll explain now, but you can watch the video after finishing this article.
Young men come in and pretend to be Lukashenka’s police beating protestors with soft batons. After the video, they remove their masks, and everyone laughs.
I guess it’s funny? I don’t really know how to react. I’m a bit too shocked to see so many people so familiar with police beatings that it’s become a prank.
I stick around, and begin to wander the crowd, looking for Belarusians to tell me their story. For many, they don’t speak much English, if any, and Lithuanian is completely foreign.
It’s a reminder of the many obstacles to overcome by a people displaced.
I talk to two women carrying a flag, and at least they speak some English. Both tell me if they were in Belarus now, they’d be in prison. Both still have friends in prison.
“Is there anything you’d like to tell Congress about Belarus?”
They look at me confused. They’re not sure what Congress is. As much as we in the U.S. think the world revolves around “us”, it doesn’t.
I change my question and ask for a message to Americans. Then she gives me a sentence. “The revolution is just getting started.”
I ask for a picture, and they pose in front of that prison that housed a seat of Hell. These two represent the love which trumps hate.
I join the crowd as it begins to march. The Russian chants in Lithuanian streets are cheered on by local onlookers who recognize the language of freedom. I recognize the language from Black Lives Matter events and marches.
We arrive at the Belarusian embassy, and now I finally learn what’s happening with that sheet of paper that says “leave!” Crowds begin throwing paper airplanes saying “leave!” through the fence onto the lawn of the Belarusian embassy.
I begin building the plane, and I’m late to the game. I’m one of the last to approach the fence, and a police officer sternly tells me something along the lines of what I assume is “step away from the fence!” in Russian.
“Get off my back bro.” I bravely exclaim…in my head. I throw the airplane on the lawn.
People continue to chant, and a scene emerges. A lady dressed in white with fake blood on her dress is placed on a cross. A group carries her to the fence.
I’ll let her protest speak for itself.
Next week, I dive into what life is like for Belarusians living in Vilnius and discuss two paths to victory I see for the Belarusian people.
To get the full sights and sounds of the protests, here are videos depicting the police beatings “prank” and the paper airplanes being thrown on the lawn.
This post is the fourth in a series called “10 Thoughts from Vilnius” by Vytautas Aukštuolis. Posts released Tuesday mornings. Please subscribe to my channels on Medium, Twitter, Facebook, and Baltivist.com.
Thought #1: A Journey Hosted by the Dead
Thought #2: Hi, I’m your distant cousin. Do you want to see where your ancestors lived?
Thought #3: A Poem Offering Peace
Thought #4: Frontlines of Belarusian Protests
Thought #5: The Difficult Question Facing the Belarusian Freedom Movement
Thought #6: Discovering Jewish Life of Vilnius
