Belaruse no longer feels the sun
But it's under the skin of everyone
Belaruse forgotten by the blind
That is until the next time
Remember all your yesterdays
In the deep blue
Before the world came
And rested there on you
And if the sun and moon
Were both to doubt
Then sure enough
They'd both go out
When you can't walk in your field
Feel water in your hands
You've been touched by the doubt of man
- The Levellers
Belarus. Forgotten. Not just by the blind (I was hoping those lyrics would make some sort of sense. Yeah. Right). A member of the United Nations. A country full of disappearances. A country where there is no freedom of press, no freedom of speech (it holds place 186/195 for freedom of press). A country where for every 100 live births, there are 80 abortions, and 6.43 deaths (putting it at 177 out of 233 in the World Index). Where there are 64,300 abortions a year, and where 2000 wanted pregnancies each year end in stillbirth, owing to an earlier abortion. 2% of babies are born absolutely healthy. By the age of 17-18, 70% of young people have chronic illnesses. Where women are sold into sexual slavery. Where women outnumber men 1,138 to 1000. Where 100% of public toilet cleaners are female. Where 100% of bus drivers are male. Where the average salary is $350 a month, and where 1 square metre of living space in Minsk costs $2000. A shrinking country. A country where the population is 9.3million, and 10,000 people a year decide to move overseas. 13,000 are living with AIDS Land-locked. Where every 4th Belarusian suffers from mental illnesses. Where 93% of construction workers will not wear a hard hat unless the overseer is around, because it is unmanly.
I went to the theatre this evening, to see the Belarus Free Theatre perform Numbers (from which I gleaned those statistics, along with the CIA World Factbook - the link has mild nudity, reference to abortion and mental illness. NSFW, it is very physical theatre) and Disappearing Love. It was a gala evening: I went because Sam West was performing. I've been a fan of his for so long now, and talked to him at the stage door so often, that he and his partner, the gloriously talented Laura Wade, are getting quite friendly. It helped that the performance featured Sir Ian McKellen, Jude Law and Sienna Miller. Names. I saw Tom Stoppard in the audience, but failed to ask him for his autograph. Getting breathlessly teenage about Arcadia wasn't on my to-do list. I encountered a fellow lacrosse player from uni, who turns out to be another enormously talented playwright.
The Belarus Free Theatre usually performs in clearings (40% of Belarus is wooded), in private homes. It performs clandestinely, because it's work is illegal. The actors and directors all risk disappearance. Their performances have been stormed by the state police, with audience and actors detained.
In Belarus, the internet is censored. This blog wouldn't, couldn't be written. Freedom of Expression is curtailed. Belarus is like the USSR: the last remaining Soviet State. Its president, Lukashenko, is the last remaining dictator in Europe. There will be an election on 19th December. No-one expects it'll change anything much. The Index on Censorship is working to improve the lot of the Belarussians.
The Belarus Free Theatre put it best, in Generation Jeans:
"We urge you to allow the people of Belarus the right to express and share their opinions freely, whether this is on the internet or not. We urge you to use your powers to prevent any further repression of citizens who hold alternative, and oppositional, beliefs to you. We urge that the practice of physical abuse and intimidation against any citizen, including those who dare to hold alternative and oppositional points of view, be stopped. Finally, we urge you to protect the right to freedom of assembly in accordance with Article 21 of the International Covenant of Civil and Political Rights to which Belarus is a state party."
Because, right now, there's not much we can do. We can talk, we can yell, we can fight: but there is no sense in violence. We can make sure people know. I didn't know. I feel ashamed that I didn't know. I don't quite know what else to do. All the marching, the letters, the hope in the world, seem to make so little difference. I can't go running around the place assassinating presidents, much as I might like to: there's a whole edifice that would continue even without the guy in charge. I can write. I can be indignant. I can go to more performances. I can tell everyone else what's going on. I work for a charity, totally unconnected to freedom of speech. I give to other charities, I volunteer for Girlguiding UK. I should do so much more: for so many more causes.
I can reflect that of Girlguiding UK's trips abroad, as part of GOLD - Guiding Overseas Linked with Development - we have visited the countries that have such restrictions. Thailand, has its disappearances. India. Pakistan. Sri Lanka. Russia. Belarus. Practical help for the people there, educating girls and young women, and helping them: if not with the problems of freedom of speech, and censorship, but with other issues, often, sexual health. In a country where 20,000 women do not have employment: there will be a need for this type of education.
There will be a return to usual knitting content shortly. I just needed to get that Off My Chest.
xxx
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