With Simple Tools, Activists in Belarus Build a Movement

All three men are candidates to lead the unified opposition, but they were still debating whether to forge a single platform that would appeal to a coalition encompassing middle-age intellectuals, committed old socialists and young people who yearn for the lifestyles and freedoms of Western Europe.

They have, however, agreed on a broad strategy: to unify behind a single candidate, who is pledged to dismantle Lukashenko's presidential system, to dissolve the rubber-stamp parliament and call new elections.

But the obstacles are formidable. They must collect 150,000 signatures to register their candidate. The government, they said, can disqualify Lukashenko's opponent on almost any grounds. Then, without access to state media, they must introduce their candidate to the electorate through word of mouth and printed bulletins. They also need a credible election monitoring system to challenge the government's vote tally. And if they win at the ballot box, they must gather enough protesters, and world outrage, to force Lukashenko from office should he try to remain.

Various Vulnerabilities

"If we can't solve the problem of printing by this fall, we'll have a problem in the election," said Lyabedzka. The opposition lacks access to independent radio and television, and although cell phones and the Internet are commonplace in urban areas, both are monitored by the government. The printed word is their only hope.

The loss of the printing press in Kishkurna's garden shed underscored the vulnerability of even small-scale efforts at mass communication. Vaclau Areska, who sits on the committee organizing the convention, said the opposition had been forced to smuggle printing material from outside Belarus, especially Russia, and bribe legal printing houses in Belarus to work off the books.

No matter how many copies are printed, almost all opposition leaflets and newsletters carry the subscription figure 299 (any higher figure requires registration with the state), and often a false address. Police check for these details first and confiscate publications without them. Mailing is often done in small batches, at different post office branches, to avoid suspicion.

Independent newspapers, of which only a handful remain, struggle to work around a labyrinth of restrictions. They are forbidden to use any information from unregistered organizations. So polls and statistics that contradict the official numbers are attributed to partner organizations in Lithuania or Poland.

The papers are also forbidden to announce opposition political demonstrations, which are routinely banned by the authorities. "We announce their actions through 'subways,' " said one editor. They will mention the application for the permit, with the time and place, then mention that the permit has been denied, again with the time and place. "We've announced it twice," he said.

Outside a McDonald's restaurant on a main street in the capital, Minsk, Belarusan militiamen keep constant eye on the swarms of people attracted to this rare icon of Western capitalism. Members of the Young Front, the largest opposition youth political movement, recently met inside, surrounded by the bustle of children waving flags with the chain's slogan, "I'm Loving It." The noise, two young members said, made it more difficult for the state security service, the KGB, to listen in.

Facing stiff restrictions, some groups find they have to operate illegally, without official registration. One young party leader who has worked as the treasurer for an opposition youth group said survival required creativity and improvisation.

"An NGO gets a grant, but they can't fulfill the terms of it," he explained, referring to nongovernmental organizations. "So they grant money to our party members -- the 'muscle' -- to do the work."

He said groups also barter work for access to office space, computers, the Internet and meeting rooms, a critical need when militiamen can close down any unauthorized gathering. Financial information is closely held. Unregistered groups cannot have bank accounts in Belarus and must find ways to bring money across the border. Subscriber lists for newspapers and membership rolls for organizations are carefully guarded.

Last spring, a few anti-Lukashenko posters on the walls of the offices of Zhoda, an independent newspaper, provided the pretext for a police raid. The charge was violating the dignity of the president. Four computers were confiscated but no subscriber lists or sources were lost. The paper began publishing again with computers donated by other groups.

But there is no eliminating the human cost of working with the opposition. Kishkurna, whose son was arrested in the July raid, said he was only storing the printing press, which is legal under Belarusan law. In an interview that began with the collection of all the visitors' cell phones -- fearful they could be used for monitoring, he turned them off and moved them to another part of the house -- he said it was unlikely that any names of opposition groups had been found in his house.

When he returned to his home a few days after the raid, to find locks forced, windows broken and papers and books scattered, he had more pressing worries.

"I am trying not to say anything that could damage him," he said of his son. "Why do they use Anton as a victim? He's very young. To break into his house while his parents are out, to scare him into giving information on his father? They can do anything with him now."