Looks like it's time to switch plans (10/5/05)

Can we talk a little about Decree 382?

It's been on my mind for weeks now.

I'm well aware that reader reactions to my free press development work on the other side of the world are mixed. Some are interested, some couldn't care less.

But those of you who couldn't care less are going to have to go ahead and turn to the funny pages. Decree 382 has been on my mind.

Besides, when this column was launched, originally in the Dunkirk News and Sun, I tended to think of my mother as the primary audience. It was a letter home. And though she's gone now, I still find myself writing in the same mode. And my mother would want to know about Decree 382.

It was issued in late July or early August by the president of Belarus.

Those of you who keep up on international affairs know that Belarus is a dictatorship. Those of you — both of you? — who are regular readers of this column know that I have been working with Belarusian journalists for several months, first in Washington, then in their own country, and now via the Internet. They're in a horribly difficult situation. They understand all of the principles well, but the government won't let them exercise those principles.

In Belarus, there are two kinds of laws, those passed by the parliament and those handed down by the president. Decree 382 is one of the latter.

In it, President Alexander Lukashenka decrees that any "technical assistance" to Belarusian organizations from foreign sources is illegal.

That means that everything we've tried to accomplish since February would now be off-limits.

And it certainly puts a damper on the next phase of what we had in mind.

Originally, I was slated to return to Belarus on behalf of the International Center for Journalists to conduct some seminars, primarily training trainers so they could take the message on themselves.

Then came Decree 382, making all of that illegal.

That led to Plan B, which called for me to go to neighboring Lithuania to conduct the training, having the participants travel by train out of the country to take part. At first, that sounded pretty good.

Then I heard from Anton. Anton was my translator this spring. He's a third generation dissident, meaning that his family has been ticking off the authorities well back into Krushchev's time if not before.

Anton pointed out that Plan B would get me off the hook but still put the Belarusian seminar participants at risk. I'd be outside the law because I was outside the country; they'd potentially still be subject to arrest.

So, after much gnashing of teeth and sending of e-mails, we've ended up with Plan A.1.

It calls for me to return to Belarus later this month and to come as close as possible to the limits of Decree 382 without crossing the Lukashenka government's line. No seminars. No standing up in front of a group.

Instead, I'll be working one-on-one, trying to get a handle on this latest round of repression in advance of next year's presidential "elections." And I'll be trying to offer some guidance between the lines on an informal basis. I'll also be trying to figure out some strategies for future assistance from the West.

And I'll be trying to show some solidarity with their cause, for whatever that's worth.

Will it be a wasted effort? I honestly do not know.

Is there a good chance I'll be hassled by the authorities? I'd bet on it.

Will I be deported before the two weeks are up? Maybe.

But as the saying goes, you've got to do what you've got to do.

Since my visit to Belarus this spring, four newspapers I had contact with — in Smorgon, Volkyvysk, Borisov, and Minsk — have been closed under government pressure. (That didn't happen because they had contact with me, but because they were testing the government's limits.)

I'd be a sorry excuse for a friend if I didn't even bother to attend the wake.[[In-content Ad]]