Belarus’s complicated memory

Kurapaty is a nature reserve near Minsk where, during the 1937 – 1941 Great Terror, the NKVD shot an estimated 250,000 people. Photo: represii.net (CC) commons.wikimedia.org

Three discourses

The debate on Belarusian historical memory has been dominated by three main discourses. Representatives of each tend to stick to their own visions indicating that there is no chance for an agreement. The first discourse can be called national-democratic. It emerged in the early 1990s, mainly within intellectual circles, and has been the narrative of politicians and academics in opposition to Alyaksandr Lukashenka, the president since 1994, and his regime. This vision of Belarusian history adheres to the idea of self-determination of nations and understands the concept of a nation in ethnic terms. Its proponents consider Belarus to be a democratic European nation-state. The Soviet Union is regarded as the country’s occupier, which was suppressing its aspirations for independence.

The second discourse, which can be called Soviet-Russian, sees the essence of Belarus’s existence in the unity of the three Slavic nations: Russians, Belarusians and Ukrainians. Its representatives perceive Belarusians and Russians as one nation, artificially divided by external forces into two. In this thinking the Soviet period is regarded as the golden age and its adherents see the unification of Belarus and Russia as a historical necessity for both states.

The third discourse, which has the greatest impact on today’s historical policy, is the discourse of the official Belarusian historiography. It lacks internal coherence and shows an instrumental treatment of history, which the authorities use to achieve their political objectives. Although representatives of this discourse do not fight against representatives of the other two as fiercely as they do against each other, it is quite clear that they are closer to those who support the Soviet-Russian discourse.

The national-democratic discourse dominated Belarusian memory culture in the first years after the collapse of the Soviet Union. It was then used both to interpret the country’s past in the Soviet Union, but also as a tool to create a new national identity. Things dramatically changed in 1994 when Lukashenka came to power. After that moment the Soviet-Russian discourse was dominant. Lukashenka used it to take advantage of the still existing nostalgia for the Soviet past and to legitimise his efforts to integrate Belarus with Russia.

In the early 2000s, however, when Belarusian authorities came to understand that the integration project with Russia was not in line with their vision, Lukashenka concluded that Belarus needed its own history. In 2003 Belarus introduced the first projects of state ideology, which set the stage for the official historiography to determine the further directions of Belarusian historical discourse. Since then many declarations have made stressing the shared fate of the Russian and Belarusian nations, which, in turn, required glorification of the Russian past. Lukashenka used this discourse instrumentally in his calculated game aimed at ensuring a more or less stable functioning of the state, sponsored with Russian money.

It was Russia’s annexation of Crimea in March 2014 and the war in Donbas that forced Lukashenka depart from his approach. The regime realised that playing the Russian card could be risky for the country’s independence in the long term. Hence, the narrative was changed again. It was replaced by a discourse that makes references to the Soviet past, but also shows Belarus’s special role in it.

Beginning of statehood

In the post-Soviet states historical policies tend to identify the beginning of statehood, which is seen as a foundation of their national identity. In the case of Belarus the first years of independence were clearly too short of a period of time for the concept of statehood to become rooted. That is why for almost 20 years its interpretation was a curious mix of pan-Slavism (unity of all Slavs) and admiration (not to say sacralisation) of the Belarusian Soviet Socialist Republic (BSSR).

In this vein, the pro-government historians have created a narrative where the nation has its roots in Kievan Rus’ and the Russian Empire, but which also presents the Soviet Union as a formative experience for the establishment of the independent state. Assumptions of this narrative, especially its pan-Slavism, were used by the authorities in the development of foreign policy. They were also meant to cement the society and legitimise Lukashenka’s increasingly authoritarian rule. Reportedly, they have brought the desired results. Opinion polls suggest that Belarusians and Russians are the two nations that like each other the most and the majority of Belarusians regard the beginnings of their statehood as the times of the BSSR.

On the contrary, the interpretation of the beginnings of Belarusian statehood offered by independent politicians and academics is rooted deeper than the 20th century as Belarusian culture flourished during the period of the Grand Duchy of Lithuania and when Belarus was a part of the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth. In their assessment, the times when Belarus was a part of the Russian Empire and later the USSR, should be treated as a time of occupation. Thus, they view the March 25th 1918 proclamation of the Belarusian People’s Republic (BPR) as one of the most important achievements of the 20th century, even though it existed for less than a year.

Vladimir Putin’s rise to power in 2000 ended Lukashenka’s dream of a presidency in the union state of Russia and Belarus. In its place, a new state ideology was created along with a new historical narrative. It presented the BSSR as a separate entity and was used by the authorities, especially during crisis moments, to argue that 1991 was the year that marked the beginning of Belarusian statehood. The official rhetoric, however, has noticeably changed since Russia’s annexation of Crimea in 2014. Since that moment Belarusian authorities have openly stressed the importance of their state’s independence, making references to the 11th-14th century roots of the Belarusian statehood (the Principality of Polotsk).

One war, two narratives

The Second World War was one of the most important events in Soviet historiography. Referred to as the Great Patriotic War it was understood differently than in the West which regards it as a global military conflict between 1939 and 1945 and not, as the Soviet narrative suggests, one that started in 1941. The Soviet memorialisation of the war did not take place in the immediate post-war period, since at that time the trauma it had generated was still too powerful. It was only in the 1960s that the war began to be used as a founding myth in the state- and nation-building processes. And this sentiment remains almost unchanged in Belarus today.

There are two main reasons why the war holds a high position in Belarusian historical policy and memory. First, nearly 30 per cent of the Belarusian population was annihilated during the war. Second, even though in the 1990s it seemed that the approach to researching the war would change, the official Soviet paradigm was kept with almost no alterations. It has proven useful in the policy of “re-Sovietising” memory, which was introduced in the second half of the 1990s and aimed at consolidating a new political system.

Today we can say that Belarusian memory of the war lacks its previous cohesion. It still contains the narrow Soviet perspective, which is the most visible in stressing the great sacrifice and the glory and dignity of the Soviet peoples. Yet, it disregards other aspects of the war: the destruction, the fear and chaos. The latter topics, however, are often analysed by independent researchers who are not afraid to touch upon some issues still seen as taboo. The collaboration with Nazis, crimes committed by partisans and Soviet atrocities are some of the topics independent researchers examine. From the official viewpoint, it is clear that bringing them into the discourse could undermine the myth and glory of the Great Victory.

An equally important issue is the topic of the Holocaust and the genocide of other nations (especially the Jews and the Roma people) who inhabited the territory of Belarus during the war. They were disregarded in the Soviet narrative, which treated all victims of the war as Soviet people. Despite this interpretation the first unofficial Holocaust monument titled “The Pit” (Яма) was erected shortly after the war on the territory of the Minsk ghetto. It remains there today and is now an official memory site. Jews have in fact been eradicated from Belarusian history twice – first, physically, through the Nazi extermination, and second, through Soviet propaganda. Things have improved in the last decade as the Holocaust has become a research topic of many scholars and new memory sites devoted to the Shoah and the genocide of the Roma people are being created. That said, it needs to be stressed that the official historiography is still not ready to tackle some very difficult matters.

Soviet past – war on monuments and names

Analysing the past and coming to terms with its different aspects is still a difficult challenge for Belarusian historical and memory policy. It is not only a result of the Soviet heritage but also the problem of evaluation and unclear assessments. While independent historians have been trying to approach the Soviet period critically and present its different layers, official historiography treats it with little criticism and very instrumentally. After coming to power, Lukashenka used the Soviet nostalgia to present the USSR as a paradise lost. In fact, the Soviet memory resembled the myth of the Great Patriotic War: it selectively glorified the positive side of the USSR and silenced its dark parts, including Stalinist repressions, political persecutions and the real number of victims of the Second World War. Discussions on these sensitive matters intensified in the first years of independence, when the politicians in power decided to tackle the trauma of communism. However, in the middle of the 1990s it nearly disappeared from public debate.

The examples of two memory sites, Kurapaty and the former extermination camp in Maly Trostinets, illustrate the state’s approach to history. Kurapaty is a nature reserve near Minsk where, during the 1937-1941 Great Terror, the NKVD shot an estimated 250,000 people. The victims were of different nationalities, including the Belarusian elite and intelligentsia. The discovery of mass graves in 1988 shocked the Belarusian public and since then Kurapaty has become the main memory site for victims of political repressions. Yet, despite its status as an official memorial site, the state has made attempts to downplay its role in Belarusian memory.

The Nazi extermination camp in Maly Trostenets was established in 1941 and was the largest Nazi concentration camp on the Soviet territory occupied by Nazi Germany. In Soviet times, a small plaque commemorating the memory of those who lost their lives there, was placed near the vicinity of the camp, but the first part of the actual memorial was not unveiled until 2015. The fact that it took 70 years to make this symbolic gesture was caused by the discrepancies in the interpretation of the war by official and independent historians. Today, this memory site remains hidden, next to a trash dump, which overshadows the area of a former death camp.

In Belarusian cities the Soviet legacy is still very present. Minsk, as well as other cities, is often called a hybrid “communism museum,” offering space to both the heroes of the USSR and the protagonists of centuries of Belarusian history. The cities also provide an illustration of the change in historical narratives. Take the main street in Minsk. It was first called Stalin Avenue. Later it became Lenin Avenue to be changed in 1991, into the Francysk Skaryna Avenue (a Belarusian humanist and translator of the Bible into the Old Belarusian language) and in 2005 it was changed into Independence Avenue.

The monuments are faced with a similar fate. In Belarus there has never been and probably will not ever be, a “Leninopad”. This took place in post-Maidan Ukraine when angry protesters took down Lenin statues. However, there have been times, even during Lukashenka’s rule, when busts of Lenin and other communist leaders were disappearing from Belarusian cities. While at the same time, new monuments to Soviet heroes were being raised,  among them a monument to the director of Cheka – Felix Dzerzhinsky.

Myths and ideology

During the transformation period of the former Soviet republics, the main myths were created to facilitate the state- and nation-building processes. Some countries completely disregarded their Soviet past, while others glorified it. The authorities of independent Belarus incorporated the mythology of Soviet historiography into current policies. This has had an impact on all spheres of social, political and economic life.

Thus, the myth of the Great Rus’ as the cradle of the Belarusian nation is still widely used. The myths of the USSR as the “golden age” and the myth of the Great Patriotic War explain why Belarusian independence is celebrated on July 3rd – the anniversary of Minsk’s liberation from the Nazis – and why the anniversary of the October Revolution is still a state holiday. The myth of the warfare and sacrifice of Belarusian partisans is also still alive and it is often used in official propaganda, as was the case of Lukashenka’s recent speeches in which he presented Belarus as an outpost defending the world of Eastern Slavs from western influences and NATO.

Even though for the Belarusian regime’s historical memory and state ideology are the same, the nationalisation of the Soviet history, including the war, has only taken place in the last 20 years. It is a result of the ruling elite’s realisation that playing with Soviet myths can pay off in the short term. The authorities are not interested in history, but in establishing an engaging political memory, resulting in the creation of new myths. The collapse of the USSR, for example, is often presented as a loss of sovereignty and Lukashenka’s coming to power as its renewal.

The consolidation of the regime has led to the creation of the idea of a strong leader who is the true representative of the people and leads the nation towards a bright future. This myth is so strong that it created an archetype of a Savoir leader, and is the reason why Belarusians call their president Batska – which means “father of the nation” or “daddy”. However, more and more often, this phrase is being used sarcastically. In a way it confirms the trend in Belarusian society of maintaining belief in the post-Soviet myths, but growing scepticism when it comes to the state ideology.

Between paradigms

In Belarus there is no institutionalised historical policy under state control and there is no institution responsible for historical policy and memory culture, such as the Institute of National Remembrance in Poland or Ukraine. Researchers have different assessments of these kinds of institutions in the post-Soviet states, but overall they agree that institutional formalisation influences policy and heightens tensions between neighbours. To find evidence for this theory one only need to point to the ongoing disputes between Poland, Russia and Ukraine. Belarus, in this regard, is in a more comfortable situation since it has no territorial or serious historical disputes with its neighbours.

An introduction of an active and honest historical policy would affect Belarus’s relations with neighbours. In Poland, for example, revealing information on Polish victims of Stalinist repressions would generate a positive reaction, while addressing the murders of Belarusians by the so-called Cursed Soldiers would increase tensions. In regards to Russia, there is a need for a more serious approach to acknowledge the scale of anti-Belarusian repressions – from the Russian Empire to the Soviet Union. Yet, this could have a negative impact on the myth of brotherly friendship and complicate Belarusian-Russian relations.

Without a doubt, the format and quality of historical policy in Belarus has significantly improved over the last ten years. Independent scholars now have more freedom in carrying out research and the official historiography is beginning to approach the Soviet period and the war as tragedies for individuals and ethnic groups, rather than constantly stressing the sacrifice of the Soviet nation. In addition, some topics that were swept under the carpet for years are now being discussed, such as the persecution of homosexuals in the Soviet Union, women’s experiences during the occupation, and the collection of oral histories from witnesses of everyday life in these difficult times.

When it comes to historical policy, Belarus is a paradox. Its society now functions between two antagonistic narratives: Russian-Soviet and national-democratic. It is difficult to say which one will win in the near future, but we can probably infer that it will be a strange mix of different interpretations. What we can say for certain is that the Soviet paradigm of historiography is losing steam, but at the same time; no real alternative has fully emerged.

Translated by Iwona Reichardt

Maxim Rust is a Belarusian political scientist and currently a fellow at the Centre for East European Studies at the University of Warsaw where he is finishing his PhD. His research interests include political elites and transformation processes in the post-Soviet space.

belarus, historical policy