Feels like a gut punch (03/29/06)

The first punch in the gut came Thursday.

I'd been following events in Belarus, where the recent presidential election has been labeled a fraud, in a number of newspapers, on The Associated Press wire, and via the Internet.

U.S. newspaper coverage was pretty spotty, though vastly better than anything that was broadcast on TV or radio. And the AP report was pretty good.

But most of the West wasn't much interested on the story. I was, because of my work with Belarusian newspapers last year.

My best Internet sources boiled down to the site of Radio Liberty/Radio Free Europe, a blog one of my daughters had recommended, and the Belarusian Association of Journalists, with whom I had worked in 2005.

Between these multiple sources, I was able to keep track on the post-election protests and the constant threat of a crackdown by the dictatorial government.

Still, nothing prepared me for last Thursday.

BAJ, the Belarusian Association of Journalists, had posted a list of journalists arrested while trying to do their jobs covering the protests.

About a third of the way down the list, I ran into a very familiar name. My translator's.

Anton, who also worked as a freelance correspondent, was listed as “kidnapped” by police. His whereabouts and safety were unknown.

Now, I know that most folks will happily go through life without ever having to work with a translator. But, as someone who has, I can assure you it's a very close relationship.

In the past several years that I've been doing this sort of work in my accidental second career, I've found that a great translator can almost become a part of the family.

Denis in Central Asia and Tamuna in the republic of Georgia fall into that category for me, so does Anton. They're like extra nieces and nephews. Baby pictures via e-mail are a routine occurrence. The bond is strong.

So, you can imagine the punch in the gut when I learned Anton had been arrested.

It should not have come as a surprise. His grandfather was a Soviet dissident. His father was a Soviet dissident. And Anton is a post-Soviet dissident.

Still, it was startling to learn he'd been swallowed up by the police state in Belarus.

Better news came a day later, when I learned he'd surfaced, in police custody, and had been sentenced to 11 days in jail. His mother, also a journalist, had been arrested at the same time and had been ordered to pay a hefty fine.

Their crime: Going to cover the news.

On Saturday, the second punch in the gut arrived.

Riot police in Belarus had moved in on protesters, and chaos had ensued. Hundreds were arrested. Among them, another friend.

Pavel, a journalist about whom I've written in earlier columns, has most recently been acting as the press liaison for the top opposition candidate for president. On Saturday, he was arrested.

About the same time, his girlfriend, Irina, was detained by police in her hometown as she attempted to board a train for the capital. She wasn't held long, just long enough to make sure she didn't make the train. It was probably a shrewd move on the part of police; Irina's a very charismatic young woman, the sort who can send young men to the barricades.

By Sunday, I learned that Pavel had apparently been released. That just left Anton in jail, behind bars until next weekend at least.

Meanwhile, the channels of news were beginning to dry up. The blog I'd been checking said — in its final dispatch before being silenced — that the government telecommunications service was shutting down Internet access. Few other reports are filtering out.

Yet another punch in the gut.[[In-content Ad]]