36 people of letters are currently behind bars in Belarus, the Belarusian language can become a reason for detention. The works of Belarusian writers disappear from school programs and vanish from bookstores. Reform.news met with the president of the Belarusian PEN, Tatsiana Niadbai, to find out how the organization has adapted to the new reality, why emigration makes Belarusian literature more open, and what motivates its members personally to continue their activities.
The Belarusian PEN is an association of ‘People of the Wor’ aimed at building a space for the development of culture, dialogue, and the realization of the potential of creators, as well as defending the civil and cultural rights and freedoms of People of the Word. The organization was founded in 1989 and was accepted into the International PEN a year later.
After being shut down in 2021, the Belarusian PEN was forced to leave the country. The president of the organization, Tatsiana Niadbai, began rebuilding its activities. The Belarusian PEN was re-registered in Poland in the summer of 2022. Tatsiana recounts that it was a challenging time:
— Although we never stopped our work for a single day, I only recently realized that we survived against all odds. Our team changed significantly—many new people joined, some left. But only now, in the spring of 2024, we can state that we endured: as an organization, we managed to survive in the new situation and think about development rather than mere survival.
The organization faced many challenges — dissolution, relocation, registration under new conditions. However, according to Tatsiana, any crisis forces a reassessment of one’s activities and provides room for growth.
— I am very pleased that we preserved our essence. After the dissolution, PEN declared the ‘Manifesto of Uncertain Times’, stating that ‘everything we do, we do with thoughts of Belarus and for Belarus’, and our main criterion of belonging to the Belarusian cultural community is not territorial, but value-based. This is especially important considering that many cultural figures have left, and we must keep them in focus.
Tatsiana admits that the organization often lacks resources and manpower.
— PEN doesn’t feel stable and operates on short-term planning of three to five months. These are not the best working conditions. Mistakes happen, but they almost always provide valuable experience from which we learn, grow stronger, and try not to repeat. At the same time, we have fantastic support from partners — without them, we wouldn’t cope.
Despite the challenges, PEN continues to work in two main directions: creative and advocacy. They often intertwine, explains Tatsiana. In the creative direction, PEN, in partnership with other organizations, awards literary prizes and implements projects that contribute to the professional development of creators.
— Belarusian literature exists under repression, so all projects aimed at supporting its development are also about defending cultural rights. Additionally, we monitor human rights violations in the cultural sphere. Every three months, we publish analytical reports with statistics and trends on violations, and every two weeks, we provide operational reviews.
In terms of advocacy, PEN documents violations related to all cultural representatives, not just writers.
— In 2019, when we started monitoring and considered focusing on literature, we realized that monitoring isn’t done in other segments of culture. Therefore, we decided to ‘take under our wing’ the entire cultural field. However, when we talk about the creative direction, our main target group remains writers, but in the broad sense of the word: translators, literary critics, journalists, editors, publishers, researchers, and anyone who creates and defends the word.
Belarusian PEN calls them ‘People of the Word’, says the organization’s president, Tatsiana Niadbai.
— Belarusian culture is under pressure. There is no freedom of expression, speaking out against violence is prohibited, and Belarusian books are banned.
Currently, 36 People of the Word are behind bars, but not all of them are writers, explains Tatsiana. For example, Maxim Znak worked as a lawyer but literary creativity is a significant part of his identity.
— He expressed himself in original songs, wrote poetry, and in prison, he switched to prose. In the first year of his sentence, it was still possible to pass manuscripts to the outside, and that’s when Maxim’s book ‘Zekameron’ was published, which is now available in Belarusian, Russian, English, Swedish, and German.
The book «Zekameron» was shortlisted for the British Republic of Consciousness Prize and previously received the English PEN Award.
— Or Andrey Aliaksandrau, who worked as a media manager, but writing was also a significant part of his life. Human rights defender and Nobel laureate Ales Bialiatski came to human rights advocacy from the literary environment but continued to care about the Belarusian word and literature parallel to his activities at the Human Rights Center ‘Viasna’. ‘People of the Word’ contribute to the development and defense of the word.
Currently, around 80 members are part of PEN. Tatsiana says that during the re-registration under these conditions, everyone is asked whether they are willing to continue their membership in the organization and in what format — public or not — this concern is about the safety of the members.
— We understand that this can be dangerous. Sometime before 2020, we decided to publicize PEN members. We thought people should know who is a member. But after 2020, we created a format of public and non-public membership, meaning we don’t mention a person’s name without their permission.
The Belarusian branch of PEN was established in 1989 and is grounded on the values of the international organization. The PEN Charter applies to everyone, and it must be adhered to, says Tatsiana.
— Today, there are more than 140 PEN centers worldwide, both in countries with developed democracies and in countries with dictatorships and totalitarian regimes (in this case, these PEN centers often operate in exile). Just imagine: Eritrea, North Korea, China, Flanders, Wales, PEN countries of Basques, and others. Each PEN has its problems, its agenda, but in its activities, everyone relies on the common value framework. For the Belarusian PEN, the human rights component is also important because we are part of the Belarusian Human Rights House.
Often people expect something from the organization, thinking that membership in PEN doesn’t give anything, admits Tatsiana. She considers this a Soviet approach when members of the Writers’ Union of the Soviet Union were given extra meters in apartments or flights or other benefits. For her, membership in the organization is a way to join the community to contribute to solving social problems.
— PEN is a tool, so in my opinion, members should think about what they give to the organization with their authority. Writers talk about the problem of lack of freedom of speech, and they work to solve it. We — people of the word — come together to address this problem because together we not only ‘hit harder’ but also create, defend, solve problems. Understanding that PEN’s successes and achievements are also the achievements of a member.
For Tatsiana, being a member of the association means contributing to its activities, supporting it with one’s name and authority, being a kind of ambassador.
— It should be a win-win situation, where a person strengthens the organization with their authority, and vice versa. At the same time, there are times when paths diverge when a person realizes that they no longer align with the organization, that they are no longer close to its goals or tasks or the methods it sets for itself. It’s also normal.
In their analytical papers, the Belarusian PEN addresses the issue of Russification of Belarus. Sometimes there is so much material for one report, says Tatsiana, that some problems that require deeper examination or separate attention are separated into a separate document.
— Such a topic, for example, is ‘Russification of Belarus’. I wouldn’t say that the Russian language itself is dangerous. The problem is that the Belarusian language does not have normal opportunities for existence and development, not to mention any preferences, which would be logical after a long period of oppression. The Belarusian language is a sign of disloyalty. And for us, Belarusian writers, the Belarusian language has become our home that we carry with us.
Books in Belarusian attract more attention from the authorities. Belarusian-speaking protesters in 2020 were marked with additional labels to make them stand out more. Today, publicly speaking Belarusian can be a reason for detention, continues Tatsiana.
— In my opinion, Belarusian culture does not have its own state. There is a deliberate promotion of the ideology of the ‘Russian world,’ which occupies public space. Colonial concepts, a whole complex of valuable ideas, are used to cleanse the Belarusian space and replace it with the ideology of the ‘Russian world.’ This is very dangerous.
Tatsiana says she wants the Belarusian language to become simply a means of communication, to be normal, and for conscious society not to perceive it as a banner.
— Once I translated Eve Thompson‘s book ‘Russian Literature and Colonialism’. The author used a post-colonial perspective in relation to Russian literature. Thompson shows how Russian literature creates, strengthens, and then propagates the myth that Moscow civilized all adjacent territories. They use derogatory terms like ‘churki’(caucasians) , ‘khokhly’(ukrainians), ‘bulbashy'(belarusians) in relation to the less, in their opinion, civilized nations. However, culture in Moscow came from the West. They try to forget this and make it the other way around—that Belarus and Ukraine need external management to show them how to live. The same attitude applies to the Caucasus and Central Asia, although their culture is much older than Russian.
In Tatsiana Nyadbai’s opinion, Russian literature cannot be «cancelled» — on the contrary, it needs to be read very carefully to understand and see imperial narratives and reject them. Tatsiana believes that if we close our eyes and stop seeing them, they will not disappear.
The Belarusian PEN, along with other civic associations, implements literary awards. In total, there are about 10 such awards, each dedicated to a certain literary genre or type of literary activity—prose, poetry, translation, children’s literature, etc. However, the two oldest literary awards appeared in 1995 and 1996 when PEN established the awards named after Francišak Bahuševič and Ales Adamovich — for historical prose and journalism respectively. Tatsiana talked about plans to organize a new award.
— Together with Svetlana Alexievich, we plan to announce an award for the best testimonies, for voices that capture the present time. Writers need to have the strength to document our complex reality. These can be politically motivated pieces with their diaries, themes related to protests or experiences of emigration and participation in war. As one would say, subscribe and wait for the news.
PEN plans to revive master classes for young writers, which were actively held in the 2000s-2010s. Tatsiana herself participated in such meetings, which integrated her into the literary community. Earlier, there was a translation workshop where young and experienced translators brought their works for discussion and feedback. Now the Belarusian PEN intends to revive these projects and is looking for funding for this purpose.
— We are working on the possibility of residencies and support for cultural figures so that writers can develop their creative potential. Mostly we will try to support those who have stayed in Belarus, this is a priority for us, but we do not forget about those who left, because we are one community, and today supporting our unity is another challenge. Unfortunately, I cannot go into detail about the activities inside the country for security reasons. PEN has not given up the opportunity to work in Belarus.
In Tatsiana’s opinion, writers can remain even in an isolated totalitarian regime, in conditions similar to North Korea:
— Even in the darkest years of 1937-1939 in Belarus, writers remained. Today there is no opportunity for public activity: there are ‘blacklists,’ bans on quoting. By the way, this was the case even before 2020. For example, after 2010, songs based on the verses of Uladzimir Niakliaeu were broadcast on state channels, but without indicating his authorship. The authorities seek to make writers invisible, forgotten, unknown, and erased.
Then we have a situation where we know Dostoevsky and Pushkin, but we do not know Belarusian writers. But this is not about weight and talent; it’s about awareness and access of writers to readers, and readers to works: through bookstores, libraries, school programs, meetings with writers, broadcasts of public media, and various other formats. That’s why we don’t know what our writers have because there is almost no opportunity for our writers to meet with readers.
On the other hand, says Tatsiana, it’s possible to remain a Belarusian writer even outside the country. This is demonstrated by examples such as Alhierd Bakharevich, Svetlana Alexievich, Andrey Khadanovich, and many others.
— Even if writers don’t write in Belarusian, they remain Belarusian writers. Yulia Tsimafeeva initially wrote her diary in English, only recently it was published in Belarusian translation. In my opinion, the same goes for Sasha Filipenka, who spent a significant part of his life abroad, and now his books translated into Belarusian are very successful (recently ‘Former Son’ was published by the ‘Gutenberg’ publishing house). Tatsiana Zamirovskaya writes in Russian, but for me, she is a Belarusian writer. Uladzimir Arlou remains a Belarusian writer regardless of his whereabouts. Our time helps to stay connected to Belarus, even if not physically.
The pain of not being able to be home allows for writing new Belarusian works, thinks Tatsiana.
— Many perceived Svetlana Alexievich as a Russian writer because she is Russian-speaking. However many Russian writers reacted very negatively to Svetlana’s Nobel Prize; they wanted it to be Pelevin, Sorokin, and others. Many Belarusians, on the other hand, were very happy, even if they were skeptical before. Svetlana herself is very deeply involved in Belarus and the Belarusian cause: she is always interested in PEN matters and the affairs of specific people, helping many without publicizing it. She misses her home in Belarus. Her texts are undoubtedly broader, I would say, they are about the twists and turns of history and the human being at these turning points, but this only adds dimension to our literature.
According to the PEN president, Belarusian literature is quite hermetic, it doesn’t open up to the world much. Moreover, there are not many translators from Belarusian.
— Many works interesting to the Belarusian audience are not interesting to foreigners. Our literature is very self-focused. In 2020, the world noticed Belarus again, and foreigners were ready to read our works. Tsimafeeva and Baharevich said that a considerable part of their time was spent giving endless interviews to foreign media — and it’s good that there was demand for information about Belarus.
Tatsiana thinks that the dispersion of writers around the world will make Belarusian literature more open.
— Our experience of emigration will add new locations to our works, the atmosphere of Vilnius, Warsaw, Berlin, and other cities. This can make books interesting for the residents of these cities or for other migrants who may compare their immigration experiences with those described by Belarusian authors. In any case, writers will have to ‘live through’ 2020 and its consequences in their books, and through these books – readers and society. To live through what our neighbors, acquaintances of acquaintances, or even family members who were beaten and arrested in 2020, are now engaged in criminal operations, tortured with detainees and their relatives, children, and elderly parents. These are also Belarusians, we live with them in the same country. If we don’t reflect on today’s events, this pain will come back to us.
When asked about her driving force to persist in her endeavors, Tatsiana responds:
— It’s impossible to stop now. Sometimes in the evening, you feel like giving up. But in the morning, you wake up and realize that you need to work for yourself and for those behind bars. I understand that our struggle is long, but I believe that I am doing the right things and there will be a positive outcome.
Text: Herman Zabaronak. Photo: Alisa Hanchar
The special project «Survivors» documents the state of Belarusian civil society organizations (CSOs) in the year 2024.