On February 24, a war broke out.
The confusion resulted in this part of the world is not caused by a lack of communication, or misinformation, but by a certain depth of ignorance about Eastern Europe, which makes us consider those places distant and different, when, in fact, they are not.
Russia invaded Ukraine, and Belarus supported the invasion. But, if it is true that the nation’s name is identifying of its people, this would be a perfect case of disproving the rule.
The Russians, Belarusians and Ukrainians have been linked for centuries, not only by ties of friendship, but of kinship. This is true to such an extent that you will hardly find a family from one of these three countries that does not have a parent or a brother in the neighboring nations.
I read news reports of hatred against the Russians in the UK, and I realise how essential it is to remember that sour tears of dismay are being shed in Russia and Belarus on receiving news of relatives under bombardment.
While Ukrainians flee and are welcomed as political refugees, the Russians and Belarusians are stuck within their own borders, and many tremble at the thought of being called upon to take up arms against their brothers. This war is not the people’s war, and we must urge everyone to fully understand that.
Belarusians have known war up close
I have crossed the Belarusian border many times over many years. Belarus is the birthplace of the man I eventually married. It is a beautiful place, with immense fields and pristine forests.
In the cities, however, you can see the suffering of a people who have known war up close. I remember a building in Minsk with a historical plaque that no one would attach to a wall here: “1920” – marking one of the few structures that survived the numerous battles fought on the ground, halfway between Asia and Europe.
The people grew up with placid acceptance of governmental control over every aspect of life. Daily tiny doses of what can and cannot be done were administered to everyone from childhood.
Protesting – with merely a gesture, or words, or even with a silly post on social media – brought and continues to bring dangerous consequences, including losing one’s job and even arrests. What else could Belarusians do but repeat, at a whisper, that things were not quite right?
Then the spirit of justice shook the masses.
Even drastic consequences haven’t stopped protests
After the clearly fraudulent elections in 2020, Alexander Lukashenko seized the reins of power for the sixth time. Belarusian people gathered with unprecedented courage and showed their displeasure in a way so representative of their true character: they took to the streets, holding bouquets of flowers and dressed in white.
The government responded with force and instantly embarked on a dark campaign of mass arrests. The country was practically shut down.
Today, when Russia (and not Russians) – under the single will of an insane presidency – invades Ukraine, Belarus assists in murder. Brothers are against brothers
Nonetheless, even knowledge of the consequences has not stopped many from stepping out with a Ukrainian flag and speaking against the current war.
Today, when Russia (and not Russians) – under the single will of an insane presidency – invades Ukraine, Belarus assists in murder. Brothers are against brothers.
Hoping for a better world
In my family Telegram group, from Scotland, I read messages from relatives stuck in Russia, in Belarus, in Ukraine. The group is called “vsem vmeste” – all together. We write words of love and, in the daily horror, we desperately wait for good news. Sometimes we give in to worry.
“I am sitting in the basement of a maternity ward, babies are being born here,” writes my cousin in Kropyvnytskyi. “They are being operated on, they are crying, it’s just impossible to take it normally… Generators are needed. Terrible conditions. I am crying and praying.”
But hope never quite dies. It is reborn, and we take courage from it. We do what we can to help, to explain to the world the real face of injustice, to ask for patience and caution in expressing an opinion.
To the babies that tonight will be born in a basement under shellfire: I wish that, tomorrow, when the sun comes out, you will never see war again. I wish you to know a welcoming world and to feel proud of your origins.
But, I also wish you to be able to choose where to live, without borders, and to be able to express your thoughts freely.
I wish you a better world, and I hope we will be responsible enough to give it to you.
Cristiana Toscano is a digital content specialist for DC Thomson Media
