One cool evening, a few days ago, Olga V. decided to do a daring act: throw over her white tank top that was also wearing a red sweater and go for a walk.
Perhaps for the Israeli reader this is a trivial matter;
Not so in the Belarusian dictatorship, which in recent months has ruled citizens over any "suspicious" combination of red and white, colors identified with protests over election fraud and mass arrests.
The choice of Olga, a 38-year-old high-tech worker, could have easily brought her to the holding cell.
"That evening I did not really care if they arrested me or not, because I was tired of thinking about what is possible and what is forbidden," she says. "There will be a situation where they will take me, and then what will happen to him? But at some point he just got tired. What, I'm not a human being? 'I'm a shaking animal or a human being?'
During the trip, Olga encountered a police patrol, but the policemen contented themselves with an inquisitive look and moved on.
Olga returned home safely, but the little experience summed up what had happened to freedom activists in Belarus since last August, until we asked her to describe the year that had passed over her - to feel what had happened to her people.
Here is her diary.
Alexander Lukashenko // Photo: EP,
May 2020: Something new begins
I remember it was May 8, the start of the race for the race.
In the past there was the eternal Lukashenko, and besides him someone from the opposition, but disturbingly some nationalist, whose superiority was that he would not have a threatening support rate.
And this time there was a new face.
The banker in Brico, for example.
There was never a businessman who got into politics.
This is not the case with us.
And that was a sign that something else was going on.
I signed up for Babriko's volunteer team, which collects signatures to deliver a certain amount required as a sign-up for the election itself.
I did not have time to get to it because it suddenly became clear to me that more and more acquaintances were doing the same thing.
And when Brico collected a record amount of signatures within a few days, I realized that this time it would be different.
That something huge is happening.
I realized that the people had awakened.
Huge protest demonstration in Minsk, October 2020 // Photo: EP,
June: We can
In mid-June, when the authorities realized that something was going on, Brico was arrested (due to a fabricated suspicion of money laundering, D.B.). From the windows, we marked a victory, it was the beginning of the celebration of disobedience.
These were the days when people also put together huge solidarity chains and stood in queues for miles.
There were young and old there, and it was inspiring.
These were not the Belarusians who came to terms with everything I know.
Was inconceivable.
In those days there was also a malfunction in the water supply in Minsk.
Residents responded quickly: bought water in tanks, drove to distressed neighborhoods, even at night, distributed to anyone who demanded it.
I realized that we have a nation, that there is tremendous solidarity, that we do not need its rule and approval to help each other.
Moreover, the government itself did nothing for us, but watched from the sidelines.
It was like with the corona, when Lukashenko said there was no such virus, or recommended eating less so as not to gain weight, and healing the sick in the sauna, working on a tractor and drinking vodka.
People were very hurt then.
Svetlana Tikhnovskaya // Photo: GettyImages,
August: We were like dreamers
Election Day, August 9, has arrived. I went to the polls and there was a sea of people with bracelets and white ribbons - a sign of intent to vote for Tikhnovskaya. The goal was also to count them at the exit because observers were not allowed to enter the voting room. There was a crazy, unprecedented turn.
They tried to deter us and removed the curtain at the ballot box. And yet, I photographed the voting form at the ballot box, next to the ID card. I crumpled the form as we were advised, so that there would be something else to hold on to in case of the expected forgeries. Then I went to my mother's house. She was terribly apprehensive, but even she, an older man, pulled the white watch out of her bag when she saw the crowds at the polls - and wore it by her.
It was already late.
I came home and decided to go with a friend to see the results at our ballot box.
That's where the problems started.
As we walk to the school where the ballot box is, we see women running everywhere, followed by men in black, armed with batons, approaching us.
Wow, that was scary.
We ran away, skipped over fences, ran to another school where there were other ballots to warn of what was happening, and then fled home.
We hid until dark.
But at night I was already in the city center, near the "Stella" (a monument to the Great Patriotic War, from the symbols of Minsk; D.B.). From a distance of 200 meters I saw demonstrators standing on one side, and on the other side police in black. There was a moment when a group of protesters lined up in a square with a white-red-and-white flag and began to cross the road towards the police. The blacks were frightened and fled, even though they had batons.
Deep into the night I returned home, but I could not sleep anyway. Explosions were heard all night. The next day, the Internet had not yet been returned, but the picture began to clear up: a friend called and said that her husband had not returned home. What happened to him? where is he? No one had information. And I had an experience of dealing with such situations because my brother was arrested in 2006 because he volunteered in the opposition, was arrested and held for a month in prison for no wrong in his palm. We did not know what was happening to him, then they abused him and harmed his health, and in the end they also threw him out of university just before completing his degree. Since then I have lived with this fear that something would happen to him. Call him to make sure everything's fine. And only if he flies abroad, then I breathe a sigh of relief. And lo and behold, everything came back to me. I went back to the psychologist.
After Lukashenko announced his victory even though it was clear he had lost, and even more, after learning what his clogs had done in the three days we had no internet, I could no longer.
In mid-August the huge protest marches began to be organized.
Mom begged me not to go out to them, if she could she would tie me up too.
And I, who had always spared her because it was enough for her that one of her children had already been "marked," did not give up.
Mom, I told her, you'll do whatever you want.
I'm going out.
And I went out.
Sometimes I would lie to her that I was with friends out of town, I really felt like a teenager.
Demonstrator arrested by government forces, September 2020 // Photo: IPI,
The dream and the cracks in it
The march, with tens and hundreds of thousands of people, was a holiday of disobedience. Truly a holiday. There were lots and lots of people. I was inside and still did not believe. It was like seeing a dream come true. A dream so dreamy that it is not even possible to dream it. So even then there was not yet the same deep fear that would seep in later. We would just leave the houses and be swept into a human sea - happy, reading, drumming, mocking the authorities.
One had to be inside to understand, to feel: it is impossible to really describe this feeling. Was so cool and liberating that we can laugh at these authorities. There were flags, both white-red-white and state, red-green, because we were all together. Was also so pleasant and peaceful in the crowd: no one pushed, no one stepped on foot. Where have all these people who are pushed on public transport gone, I thought to myself.
Of all the rallies, I especially remember the one of August 23, and one moment is quiet in it. We were in the huge Independence Square in the center of Minsk. The next time they would block it, but then we gathered there a few tens of thousands of people. At one point, someone asked to honor in a minute of silence the memory of those killed in the dispersal of the demonstrations. I was amazed: everyone put a finger to his mouth and showed it to his neighbor, and within a minute and a half, all this bustling crowd fell silent. No megaphones, no instructions from above: the gazes met and we understood immediately. Again we organized ourselves. Lots of people in the square - and a thin silence.
But the truth is that in those days I also started to get upset.
As if something did not allow me to be completely swept into the atmosphere of the "soon to win".
I realized that joy can turn into trouble.
It bothered me that these huge demonstrations were dispersing, and the next day we were going to work.
I thought continuity was needed, maybe to gather near the police stations and other government buildings and not let anyone get out of there.
Because every week people cool down, emotions subside and momentum disappears;
I know for myself that if I am now in ascension, I do not reject.
And I would also like more assaults.
Yes, we distributed flowers, but only with flowers it does not go.
October: Fall of protest
I was sure in a moment I would be crushed, so I leapt towards fir trees to hide.
There were already people there, completely terrified.
They sought refuge from the protesters.
One of them was a girl, maybe 18, in a white coat.
It was clear they saw her excellently.
And suddenly a shot.
And another.
One of the bullets hit my bag.
A thousand thoughts in my head, of people hiding in basements, terrible thoughts of war.
Why are they shooting at us at all?
What did we do?
We have no weapons.
Then came one moment when I was already beyond fear, beyond helplessness.
I said in a whisper to the girl: We'll get out of here.
She asked me apprehensively and pleadingly: Can I be with you?
I took her hand in mine and we started walking.
Every second I was afraid I would get a ball in the foot or something.
But it did not happen.
A few days later I contracted corona, and was home for a month.
I watched our heroic retiree parades online, but also saw how the parades are dwindling.
I realized that the protest was being stifled.
It was the turn of everyday fear.
Winter and Spring: Daily Terrorism
With friends and relatives we arranged to notify before coming. Because when we are called on the intercom, the child is always tense and asks, "Who could this be? I hope they did not come to pick you up, Mom." Usually, these are messengers. So they did not come to pick me up, but my brother and his wife did. It was one morning in January. I cooked oatmeal, I prepared the child for school, I read news. And suddenly - a message from my sister-in-law: "Our door is being broken into." I cringed. I did not reveal anything to my son, I just wrote to my sister-in-law "dress warm" because no one would take care of them in custody.
For hours afterwards I had no information of where my brother and wife were.
This is a kind of abuse: a person is abducted on a fabricated section, and then his family is also abused by uncertainty about where he is and what his condition is.
During the winter I cleaned up all my Facebook feed because you really don’t know what will be taken care of for you.
Here, very recently someone stopped by us who hung blank A4 pages on the window.
Authorities have ruled that this is an insult to Lukashenko because the term "white card" means an insane person in Belarus.
How can you live like this?
Do not know.
Maybe practicing, but not complementary.
I can not live like this, I'm constantly uneasy.
In September, for example, there was no concern at all.
Say, I did not think twice what should not be worn.
But then everything folded.
When they started stopping at hearts or fir stickers in the windows, I first thought: what are they, idiots?
And then realize that yes, people are really being persecuted for their vanity.
A political position must not be expressed, but not just a position;
There was already someone arrested because he thought suspiciously.
This is what is written in the protocol.
There is no such animal in the law, but there is no law here.
We have become so strange, no one is surprised to speak anymore.
Snatched a plane?
Wow, so we also have pirates.
How do you survive?
Because of the environment.
I try to talk only to people like me.
I also have to go to cafes occasionally.
Because if I stay home with these thoughts, you can go crazy.
My health has been damaged by the constant stress.
Nor do they give up.
I signed up for a Democratic opposition program that assigns a role to everyone on the day of command.
Symbolic struggles are not given up either.
For several months now we have had a "world war" at the entrance to the building.
Almost every morning someone pastes a painting or inscription to lift morale - and soon a Lukashenko supporter tries to peel it off.
The stickers piled on top of each other, until the maintenance company painted the door.
This, too, did not stop our partisan war.
Future: We may not win
If I'm thinking of leaving Belarus?
No way.
Only if they threaten my life or endanger my child's life.
I do not leave my country, a country where I was born and raised, a country where my son was born and all my relatives live in it.
I know the change will come.
There is no situation that is not.
A few years ago, I learned that acorns sometimes grow for two years, and one winter survives on the trees.
We too will mature.
Do not know how it will happen.
Maybe out of general despair, maybe Lukashenko will die, and maybe the Russians will invade and then our men will take something beyond the flowers.
I have only one wish: I want my grandchildren, when I tell them all this, will not believe me.
Since the beginning of the protest against the election fraud, more than 36,000 citizens of Belarus have been detained for various periods and subjected to abuse.
610 citizens were recognized as political prisoners.
Ten people were killed by fire from security forces.