Abstract
While Americans might just be getting to grips with “fake news”, Belarusians have been dealing with these kinds of tactics for years, writes
Riot police detain a demonstrator during an unauthorised protest marking the 99th anniversary of the establishment of the Belarusian People’s Republic
CREDIT: Viktor Drachev/Tass/PA Images
Interestingly, the producers and reporters of these films and articles were anonymous. There were no titles, no bylines at all and no evidence to suggest the White Legion, which used to exist, had operated on any level in the last few years. Interestingly, the police and the security forces would not answer any enquiries from journalists or from the public about the case.
The story, it turned out, was just made-up, packaged as news, a piece of twisted reality, broadcast to spread fear and panic within society. The message was: do not go out in the streets and protest. Those who do undermine peace and stability.
This is a typical tactic, and has been for years, in Belarus, where real news is suppressed and fake news flourishes. It is a tactic being used a lot at the moment, as 2017 has witnessed the most intense protests the country has seen in years, with a violent backlash from the government.
Under Soviet rule Belarus was quite prosperous. But when the USSR fell, Belarus went into economic decline. In the midst of economic and political turmoil, Alexander Lukashenko came to power. President Lukashenko retains his power 23 years later. This is largely due to his tight control of the media. Attacks against the free press, bloggers, independent writers and journalists have continually run alongside the activities of an extensive state propaganda machine.
News programmes on state-owned TV channels, and there are no national TV channels other than state-owned ones, follow a simple, yet persuasive pattern: here comes news about the president; here he comes greeting a foreign ambassador and making a speech about the special role Belarus plays in stability and peace in the world; here he comes meeting the minister of the interior making a statement about the importance of preserving stability and peace within the society; here he comes shouting at the cabinet of ministers that they have to do whatever it takes to follow his wise ideas in the interests of the people (not to mention peace and stability); here he comes visiting a factory in a small city talking to workers like a caring father, telling them he will provide for them.
After half an hour of this, there follows a kaleidoscope of images from the rest of the world: shells falling on Ukraine; bombs destroying a hospital in Syria; some weird president making some delirious statements across the ocean; a terrorist blowing up another city in Europe; refugees, floods, recessions, collapsing governments.
And then a story of happy children in a Belarusian kindergarten. Some more images of a peaceful country led by a wise leader that remains the last resort of happiness, the last island of stability in the violent world.
But there are other kinds of programmes on state TV. They are aired when the authorities feel the picture of “peace and stability” they broadcast contradicts the other reality, the one people see on the streets and at their work places, in grocery stores and on public transport, in hospitals and in schools. The one of life outside the matrix of state propaganda.
At the beginning of 2017, thousands of people across Belarus went into the streets to protest. The protests were triggered by the new presidential decree number three that fines people who cannot prove an official job or income. It has been dubbed the “social parasite” decree. There is an old Soviet term, tuniejadcy, which literally means parasite, and “parasitism” was considered a criminal offence in Soviet times, as everyone was expected to work to build “the utopian communist society”. Here is a Belarusian innovation: instead of paying benefits to the unemployed, the government has decided to fine them.
This decree was only a trigger. The real reason for the protests lies in the deep economic crisis gripping the country. Belarusian “stability” turns out to have been a coma. Our industrial-centred economy was inherited from Soviet times and has never been reformed. Reforms would have meant privatisation, changing laws to ensure guarantees to capital, the independence of the judiciary and a properly elected parliament, instead of one appointed by the president. All these steps, had they been taken, would have undermined the very core of the authoritarian regime.
Thus, the economy of the country has remained largely unchanged. For almost two decades, it was supported by cheap oil, gas and loans from Russia, which the Kremlin could afford because of high oil prices and a need for a nearby ally. But today that relationship has cooled, in part because Belarus has opposed Russia’s annexation of Crimea.
Economic difficulties have become noticeable to people, especially in small towns. Then came the “social parasite” tax, which acted as a trigger for protests. People took to the streets of Belarus for the first time since 2011, or even, in some small towns, since the 1990s.
The response was harsh. Hundreds of people were detained by the police, despite the completely peaceful manner of their protests. During events in Minsk in March 2017 the riot police used brutal force and arrested about a thousand people. Some were accidental passers-by. Some were journalists with valid credentials.
Aliaksandr Barazenka, a cameraman of Belsat TV channel, was detained during protests on 25 March 2017 in Minsk. There is a video of him shouting “I am a journalist!” to uniformed thugs, who grabbed him and dragged him into a police van. Later in court the riot police officers said Barazenka was swearing in public. The judge paid no attention to clear discrepancies in their accounts. Barazenka was sentenced to 15 days of administrative arrest and spent them in a detention centre on hunger strike.
There are many more similar examples of this during spring 2017. But these are the stories they never show on state TV.
There are still some forms of independent media in Belarus. There are still non-state newspapers and online publications that show what is going on. There are bloggers and social networks. In fact, when state media aired the staged scene with the Molotov cocktails, a video surfaced online that revealed there were no police or alleged criminals there, just a van and a bunch of state TV cameramen.
Stories of the journalist Barazenka and other detained protesters are being told. Sadly, though, the delirious and vicious reality of state TV prevails.
“The words of the media have been devalued. The authorities are not interested any more in what we know and think about them,” wrote Viktar Martinovich, a bestselling Belarusian writer, in the Belarus Journal. “They do not need an audience anymore. They are on their own. They think they are powerful enough and they are eternal. And we lack words to prove they are wrong.”
I believe we shall find the words.