The Belarus of Vasil Bykaŭ is in our interest

Sokrat Janowicz together with Vasil Bykaŭ in the House of Literature in Minsk in 1996. Photo: wikimedia.org

WOJCIECH POKORA: Our conversation takes place just before the hundredth anniversary of Vasil Bykaŭ’s birth. June is also the month he died. A year ago your translation of The Long Road Home (Доўгая дарога да дому) was published in Polish. What made you focus on this particular book?

JOANNA BERNATOWICZ: The original was published in 2003. However the Polish edition had to wait twenty years. The autobiography of Vasil Bykaŭ, the greatest Belarusian writer of the 20th century, was the first book I read in its entirety in the Belarusian language. I bought it in Minsk in 2006. I was studying Belarusian at the time and expected that reading the book in its original language would be very difficult. I was surprised to find out that I couldn’t put it down and read it in one sitting. I already had thoughts of translating the autobiography back then. But first I would need to get some experience as a translator. Finally, after the memorable events in Belarus in 2020, I decided that this was a good moment. There was a great need for Belarusian literature at the time. A need to understand the Belarusians. This book explains a lot. One can of course choose to view it as biography of just one person. But at the same time, it gives us in Poland a wide lens of 20th century Belarus.

You have noted in the translator’s note at the end of the book that Vasil Bykaŭ was popular in Poland in the 1970s and 1980s. You have taken the decision to suggest him to today’s very different reader, one who has been raised in very different circumstances, and one who views Poland and Belarus in another way.

Yes, but that is only proof that Bykaŭ has not aged as an author. What is more, read today, it proves that he is not only relevant, but also that some of his predictions and observations have turned out to be surprisingly insightful and accurate. His biograpjy allows us to understand why Belarus is having such a difficult time to free itself from the Soviet model and why the democratic aspirations of its people face such resistance from different actors, sometimes including themselves. Bykaŭ lets us stare deeper into the Belarusian soul and see a bit more. I believe that we cannot understand another nation and its view of the world without taking a look at its literature.

The Belarusian protests in 2020 opened the eyes of many in Poland. They had thought about Belarus with a hint of contempt, as the “open-air museum of Europe” – something they had chosen for themselves. There was a belief that the Belarusians feel good in this ruskiy mir (Russian world). Suddenly the Belarusians showed that they don’t feel well and desire change. It was Bykaŭ that wrote about this Belarusian experience separate from the Russian world. This had a profound impact on his work.

Indeed. It impacted and influenced his perception of reality. Let’s take this example: Bykaŭ writes that he translated Jules Verne into Belarusian during his childhood, as he very much wanted Belarusian children to be able to read it in their native language. He was born in a small village in the Vitebsk region and his natural environment during his childhood was filled with the Belarusian language. Almost a hundred years later, today’s Belarusian children get to know Verne’s literature through Russian. The Long Road Home explains why that is the case and why this deep Russification is possible.

Did the author have more freedom a century ago?

It is quite a paradoxical situation that Belarusian literature during the Byelorussian Soviet Socialist Republic could develop within certain limits put on culture. Bykaŭ himself was barred from publishing only in the late 1990s, when he began to take an uncompromisingly critical position towards the changes that followed the 1995 referendum. Before 2020, literature and theatre in Belarus was very dynamic and diverse thanks to a process of liberalization. Today we face a situation where independent publishers have been crushed and many literary pieces have been deemed extremist by the courts. Among them are also fundamental texts, such as those written during the January Uprising that are anti-Tsarist. Such books have been removed from libraries and book shops. If you own one you might face legal consequences.

What you discuss is important as it was Bykaŭ that pointed out that language is something that lets the Belarusians retain their identity. The most significant part of culture.

That’s true. This is why there is this stereotype in the post-Soviet space that if someone speaks Belarusian or Ukrainian they must be a nationalist. I also felt quite uncomfortable during my trips to Belarus during my studies. I am fluent in Belarusian, and it is easier for me to communicate in Belarusian than Russian. It is not a political demonstration but a matter of convenience. Meanwhile, among my Belarusian-speaking friends, in the public space, at the shop, in the street – where Russian dominates – I felt uneasy somehow with Belarusian.

But this cannot be a surprise in the context of stripping the Belarusians of their nationhood? The language became an important part of the culture and identity of Belarus. Those who consciously select Belarusian or the colours of the flag project a connection to a certain identity and tradition.

Yes, however, these symbols are forbidden. As for the general use of Russian, it is hardly a surprise. Most schools teach most of the subjects, except for Belarusian literature and history, in Russian. The literature of Russia has the same rights in the curriculum as that of Belarus. I believe it is a miracle that there are still any books published in Belarusian and that many people, especially very young, want to learn and speak the language. They notice exactly this quality that makes them different. Returning to Bykaŭ, he would actually translate his own books into Russian, although he disliked it. He would always stick to Belarusian when writing and the entire body of his work is deeply rooted in the Belarusian context.

Was it difficult for you as a Polish philologist to retain his “peasant honest” style in your translations.

This is an interesting question. I really like Bykaŭ’s style. That he uses short and direct sentences…

Like Hemingway, whom Bykaŭ often references in his book…

Yes. I tried to relay the ease of his style. It is rare to write with such direct and simple sentences in Polish these days. I have to admit it was a challenge not to simplify it too much and save the informal and somewhat chatty style. The memoirs were partly written for Radio Svoboda, meaning the source was oral in form. My favourite thing in this autobiography is that the author never claims he is an authority. His favourite word is “maybe”. Bykaŭ always leaves a margin for uncertainty. It is amazing to translate an author that does not see reality as black and white. He notices the nuance and refrains from viewing himself as ab arbitrator that is a know-it-all.

The context of understanding Bykaŭ’s autobiography has changed recently. The generation that grew up in the Polish People’s Republic could easily comprehend the struggle against the regime and censorship, or the fight for identity. We knew the war stories relayed by the previous generations. In Bykaŭ’s autobiography the war is an important period. Today we again find ourselves in a time where war becomes relevant. Bykaŭ wrote that it was thanks to Ernest Hemingway that he understood the experience of war is universal. He had thought that what he went through was unique, but after reading Hemingway it was clear to him that war looked the same thirty years earlier, and that it didn’t change at all. Today, in 2024, we again talk about the war conditions behind our eastern border. It also seems unique, but maybe it contains the same universalism?

Bykaŭ describes war as hell. In the context of this current war and all wars, it is the universality of perceiving this as a hell that people prepare for each other that is the most important thing. If we take a closer look at Bykaŭ’s work – not only this autobiography, but the earlier one – we can observe an even more universal dimension. His main protagonist is a regular private, partisan or inhabitant of occupied areas confronted with the disastrous nature of war. Bykaŭ is intrigued by the internal conflict, how the main character acts when endangered, confronted by death or violence. This is what the universalism is about. Because in the end it doesn’t matter which war it is. The author cares about the human, not the propaganda. This is why he had huge problems with critique and censorship – the truth was very uncomfortable for the authorities trying to paint a false picture based on heroic myths.

So, it is worth reaching for other books written by Vasil Bykaŭ, not only Long Road Home?

One could start from his war prose, but it is also very nice to read the Sign of Misfortune (Знак бяды) [published in English in 1990 by Allerton Press]. The main protagonists of that book are older people living in a Belarusian village trying to survive the German occupation. Rather than a frontline situation, we deal with something happening elsewhere, in the daily life of a rural community. This book is a great starting point, but it is also worth reaching for The Alpine Ballad (Альпійская балада), To Live till Sunrise (Дажыць да світання) and The Ordeal (Ліквідацыя originally published as Сотнікаў). [ed. note. All available online].

 Long Road Home has now been out for a year on the Polish market. What reception did it receive? Have you had many reviews, book meetings and reactions?

There were only a few reviews. I am under the impression that Belarus is currently having a difficult time entering our consciousness and literary circles, especially when compared to the events following 2020. Sadly, the full-scale war and Belarus siding with the aggressor has resulted in a poorer visibility of independent Belarusian novels. The aggressive policy of Lukashenka’s regime on the Polish border are making it even worse.

Perhaps this is why Vasil Bykaŭ is even more needed today?

We need him to understand what we hear in the news and to understand that the current relations between our countries do not tell the whole truth about Belarus. Very many Belarusians emigrated from the country to Poland because of political reasons. That’s why it is so important to notice, understand and support them. Through reading such books could answer why this Belarusian road back home is so long.

What about the meetings?

There was one meeting about the book – an interesting discussion in the Polish PEN Club. The book does have an impact, I wouldn’t say that it doesn’t. There were reviews in Tygodnik Powszechny and wSieci, but the interest is lower than before 2022. That is understandable, but I wouldn’t want the book and this way of thinking about Belarus to be sidelined because of the war. The nicest thing is when I am thanked by Belarusians. I have received a lot of messages thanking me for translating the book, also from strangers.

You uttered a lovely sentence about Belarus’ long way home. Don’t you think that this road has become longer after 2022 unfortunately, and that this home disappeared from the horizon?

Indeed, I think that these times are some of the darkest, but then, when were the brightest times in Belarus?

Belarus still waits.

Belarus is a country that experienced several disasters in the 20th century. The 1930s were tragic for the Belarusian intelligentsia. Then, the Second World War followed, which took the life of every fourth citizen. Most of the contaminated zone following the Chernobyl catastrophe was on Belarusian territory… On the other hand, I am baffled by the incredible survival skills of the Belarusians.

To fully understand this ability, it is worth reaching for Bykaŭ.

There is no black and white with Bykaŭ, but there are shades of grey. It is not a coincidence that Bykaŭ was seen by critics and historians of literature as a part of the existentialist movement, together with Albert Camus and Jean-Paul Sartre. With this dark existential trend in culture. There is no easy comfort to be found in his works. Bykaŭ himself stressed that he just wants one thing – to be decent. However, his biography or today’s reality of Belarusians often shows how…

… difficult it is to be human.

It is more than enough to remember the story of Roman Protasevich who was broken by the security services, or the tragedies of Belarusian political prisoners – tortured and forced to repent publicly. The authorities know how to take advantage of weaknesses. To discredit a person and convince the public opinion to accuse and condemn them. It is easy to pass moral judgements when one is free and not threatened by anything. When faced with violence, threats and torture. When our nearest are involved, the safety of our children in jeopardy, things are not as clear anymore sadly.

On the other side, there are attempts to influence Polish public opinion. An example of this is the Polish judge Tomasz Szmydt, who now tries to show how wonderful Belarus is. Like a play between good and evil. Unfortunately, we become spectators. Evil interacts with us through different situations, the incredible disinformation and propaganda being disseminated…

We cannot be a hundred per cent sure that we are dealing with evil and violence. When the judge Szmydt ran off to Belarus, I noticed that many of our commentators spoke of Belarus with arrogance and a certain disdain. “Oh, he left for Belarus. Really? He should at least have left for Russia or Cuba, but Belarus?” If someone talks like this, with disregard and a conviction that this is a dull country where there’s “nothing to be found”, they not only fall victim to the worst kind of stereotype, but also fall into a mental trap. This is how we ourselves end up pushing Belarus out of Europe into a more or less unknown Euro-Asiatic “void”.

That is why it is not only worthwhile, but also a duty for intellectuals to read contemporary Belarusian literature. To understand Belarus and Belarusians. To notice all these nuances.

Duty is too strong a word, but I like the outlook of Bykaŭ, who avoided pathos like the plague. Let’s accept that we become closer to the truth about Belarus, and doing so, we get closer to the Belarusians. We do not give up any of this space. Is it in our interest to give it up? I believe not and I think that the Belarus Bykaŭ wrote about, and is the dream of many Belarusians – including the ones that had to emigrate, is a Belarus that is also in the Polish interest in a way.

This article was first published in Polish by NEW.org.pl

Wojciech Pokora is a journalist and former editor-in-chief of Kurier Lubelski. He is also a co-creator of Stop Fake and a senior analyst with the INFO OPS Polska foundation.

Joanna Bernatowicz is a translator and editor. She translates Belarusian prose, theatre pieces and essays. Her translations and essays have appeared in Fabularia, Nowa Europa Wschodnia, Znak and Dwutygodnik.

“We suport the Belarusian Awakening’24” is a project co-financed by Solidarity Fund PL within the framework of Polish development cooperation of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs of the Republic of Poland in the amount of PLN 230,000.

This publication expresses the views of the author only and cannot be identified with the official position of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs of the Republic of Poland.

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belarus, Belarus 2020 presidential election, Belarusian culture, Belarusian literature