Friday, August 14, 2020

BACKGROUNDER PRE-BEIRUT EXPLOSION

End of the Illusion 

The Inexorable Collapse of Lebanon

Once celebrated as the Switzerland of the Middle East, Lebanon is facing a severe crisis. Its economy is collapsing, while electricity and adequate medical care are hard to find. The state has completely failed its people.


By Christoph Reuter
20.07.2020 DER SPIEGEL

The Tripoli neighborhood of Bab Tabbeneh: "We can't go on." 
Foto: Jacob Russel / DER SPIEGEL


It was a rather harmless beginning, as it so often is in Lebanon. Two-year-old Walid al-Manna was tired, perhaps unsurprising given the summer heat. But just a few hours later, he was no longer eating and was growing increasingly listless.

At midday last Sunday, his parents brought him to a doctor in their neighborhood of Kubba, located in the center of the Lebanese city of Tripoli. Due to the ongoing economic crisis, it was the last medical practice still operating in Kubba. The doctor said the boy's condition was serious, likely pneumonia, and he had to be taken to the hospital immediately. He also said that he had nothing to give to the boy except for a bit of the pain medication paracetamol.

The boy's father called the only public hospital in the city, but was told there were no beds available. He then began calling around to all of the some 20 private clinics in the city, but got the same answer everywhere he tried: Sorry, we are no longer accepting patients due to supply shortages. The family then began calling hospitals across northern Lebanon, before expanding their search around the rest of the country. They ensured each hospital that they were able to pay for treatment - but they were unable to find a single one that could help.


Walid was almost completely inert when his father Bilal al-Manna and some of his friends took him to the public hospital at 10 p.m., simply marching through to the intensive care unit. "The doctor really tried to help," says al-Manna. "He took an X-ray of the lungs and even performed a coronavirus test, which turned up negative."

Initially, al-Manna was told that the ventilator was defective, and then that there was no oxygen available. At 4 a.m. on Monday morning, Walid al-Manna slipped into a coma. Two hours later, he was declared dead.
Anger Yielding to Fear

Later that day, relatives, friends and neighbors carried the boy to his grave. They stood around the small bundle on the table, wiping the tears from their eyes. The imam quietly recited the funeral prayer, the father gave him a final kiss on the forehead and then the shroud was folded closed. His son would still be alive, said his father, if he had received treatment – if clinics were still accepting patients.


But the little boy's death did not produce a wave of protests, as similar cases had done in the past. It is as though the anger has yielded to fear – the fear of being dragged into the maelstrom that is accelerating by the day, pulling more and more people into hunger and desperation. It is a maelstrom that has hit Tripoli the hardest, Lebanon's second-largest city, with an estimated population of 500,000.

The funeral of Walid al-Manna: Not a single hospital could be found to help him. 
Foto: Jacob Russel / DER SPIEGEL


It is a quiet tumble into the void. The country is imploding, with hardly any electricity or diesel available and almost no replacement parts for generators. Medical equipment is no longer coming into the country because the importers have gone bankrupt, and there is a lack of medicines.


"In 14 days, we will close everything down except for chemotherapy and a handful of emergency procedures," says the surgeon Mustafa Allouch, a former member of parliament who is now a spokesman for the city's private clinics. They are no longer able to pay their suppliers, he says, and the government owes the clinics millions of dollars for the treatment of public officials and soldiers. "We can't go on."

For many years, Lebanon was the exception, an oasis of relative calm in a war-torn region. Whereas neighboring Syria plunged into civil war, Lebanon saw the steady growth of a strong middle class after its own civil war ended in 1990. There was a construction boom, and luxury hotels for Gulf tourists contributed to a booming economy. Freedom of opinion and a flourishing cultural life were more prevalent here than elsewhere in the region.
Systemic Collapse

Part of the economic upswing, however, was consistently rooted in the illusion of a strong currency. At the end of 1997, the Lebanese pound was pegged to the U.S. dollar, at a rate of 1 to 1,500. Banks paid up to 10 percent interest rates on deposits and loaned their own capital to the central bank for even higher rates – a situation that led a succession of governments to accumulate one of the highest sovereign debt loads in the world.

DER SPIEGEL 30/2020

The article you are reading originally appeared in German in issue 30/2020 
(July 18, 2020) of DER SPIEGEL.

The system collapsed in October, and suddenly, there were no more dollars available, at least not at the official rate. What began with a relatively harmless downturn in the exchange rate quickly became an avalanche – and that in a country that imports almost all of its goods. Clothes, food and fuel became more and more expensive, unaffordable for most – a situation that pushed stores and companies into bankruptcy and the people into poverty.

The coronavirus has exacerbated the crisis, even if case numbers in the country are low. But during the three-month lockdown, the hotels and restaurants suffered and Lebanese living abroad were unable to return home – and unable to bring their money with them.

Public schools and hospitals have been largely neglected by the state over the last 30 years, leaving education and medical care up to the free market, which is now pulling those private clinics and schools into bankruptcy. Meanwhile, the Lebanese pound continues to plunge.

When the crisis began, tens of thousands of people across the country took to the streets, demonstrating against the banks and corrupt politicians. The revolution, as they called it, had begun, and it was centered in Tripoli. DJs set their systems up on balconies and the crowds danced in protest – even including young women, which is unusual for the conservative city.


Surgeon Mustafa Allouch: "In 14 days, we will close everything down except for chemotherapy and a handful of emergency procedures." 

Foto: Jacob Russel / DER SPIEGEL


The protesters demanded the installation of a technocrat cabinet, the return of the billions that corrupt politicians had misappropriated and reforms to the country's election laws. At that time, the pound had already fallen to half of its previous value. Tens of thousands of people gathered in Sahat al-Nour Square in Tripoli, with many camping out in tents. In winter, when the exchange rate continued to fall, the first bank branches went up in flames. Tires were burned in the streets and demonstrators blocked the roads.
A Kind of Ghost Town

Today, the pound is only worth a sixth – on good days, a fifth – of its previous value. Bank deposits, salaries, pensions – they have all shrunk to breadcrumbs. But these days, protests are nowhere to be seen. Citing the need to implement measures to counter the coronavirus spread, the military and state security agencies cleared al-Nour Square a few months ago. Now, even though coronavirus measures were lifted several weeks ago, the square remains empty. Only the barricaded bank entrances, fortified with graffiti-covered steel plates, recall the popular uprising. People seem to have capitulated in the face of the crisis.

Tripoli has essentially become a kind of ghost town. Life continues on the surface, with people out and about and cars on the roads, though fewer than normal. But entire rows of shops are locked up, while in others, shopkeepers sit around for hours waiting for a customer to show up, or they just sit on the sidewalk outside because there is no electricity to light the interiors.

The meat in the last remaining butcher shops is bright pink, as though it has been thawed and refrozen several times, and there are no more bananas available in the city. In front of a mosque in the city center, an imam is trying to sell corona masks that nobody wants to buy. Price tags are changed daily, while in the cafés, elderly men sit for extended periods in front of a single espresso, saying nothing. Nobody is yelling, nobody is protesting any longer. Everyone is doing their best to keep their composure, as though they were extras in their own downfall.


Tripoli residents: "Thefts are on the rise."
 Foto: Jacob Russel / DER SPIEGEL


And it's not just the poor who are struggling. The middle class, in particular, is collapsing, a group that had until recently lived lives similar to their counterparts in Europe. They had an apartment and a car, took annual vacations abroad, and had enough money for meat. Running water, electricity, reliable hospitals, supermarkets and decent schools – all that was a given. Now, though, their savings are melting away like the last spring snow on the peaks of the Anti-Lebanon Mountains.
"Thefts Are On the Rise"

Amer Barudi, a personnel manager who lost his job, and his wife Maya, who earned good money as a yoga instructor, have left Tripoli and are now farming his father's land outside the city. They are pragmatists more than they are escapists. "We began in February with parsley," says Barudi, during a walk around this three-hectare (7.4 acre) plot. "Now, we have eggplants, tomatoes, cucumbers, beans, different varieties of peppers and mint."

They announce their daily harvest via WhatsApp to their 180 regulars, along with the dairy products like yoghurt and cheese they produce with milk from 60 sheep, a few goats and four cows. They could sell more than they are able to produce. Four watchmen keep an eye on the animals at night, because, as Barudi says, "thefts are on the rise."

A resident of Tripoli: As though they were extras in their own downfall. 
Foto: Jacob Russel / DER SPIEGEL


The Association of Dentists of Tripoli has organized a protest rally. Yahya Hassan, a doctor and civil rights activist, arrives in a Porsche Cayenne SUV, with others showing up in their BMWs or Mercedes. But don’t let that fool you, Hassan asserts. "Our accounts have been frozen, and we are unable to import anything.” Filling compound has become so expensive that no one can afford treatment. Just getting a single tooth fixed is the equivalent to a worker’s entire monthly salary, so no one is coming.” Banks only provided loans in dollars, and "they are now six times as expensive. We can’t pay them back anyway.”

The dentists have invited a Harvard-educated Lebanese banker to the rally to explain the crisis to them. Nicolas Chikhani rapidly outlines the creation of the bubble that could have been seen if anybody had wanted to. "On what basis could the central bank pay 15-percent interest to the banks? Our government doesn’t produce anything. Technically, the banks, the central bank and the state are bankrupt. Their debts are higher than their assets."

The astronomical interest rates on bank deposits was the bait everyone was more than happy to swallow. But it was like poison for an already restricted economy because hardly anyone was still investing, with most preferring to collect interest instead.
Left to Their Own Devices

Despite interruptions from power outages, Chikhani speaks about central bank head Riad Salamé, who seemed to conjure up money by magic - money that is now gone. But the details of Salamé's complicated system of "financial engineering” are too complicated for the audience, even for doctors. When Chikhani finishes, they ask: "Now what about the dollar?" They want to know when the storm will pass – they are looking for a miracle. The economist can only shake his head: "Nothing will stop the collapse of the pound," he says.

In Beirut, the government's talks with the International Monetary Fund (IMF) have been suspended without any results. Even after weeks of talks, the Lebanese either could not or would not quantify the individual debt levels of banks, the central bank and the government. The differences in estimates between the two sides are in the double-digit billion range.

Leading the charge in opposing any audit of the government’s finances has been Nabih Berri, speaker of Lebanese parliament and one of the country's wealthiest politicians, with an alleged $78 million in assets. But without transparency and without reforms, neither the IMF nor the European Union or even the country’s former mandate power, France, will be willing to grant billions to save this corrupt system.

Meanwhile, in Tripoli as elsewhere in the country, people have been left to their own devices. Only a few private soup kitchens are providing for the growing number of needy, but they are having trouble soliciting donations. "We distribute food to neighborhoods we’ve never been to before, where no one has ever gone hungry,” says Fida Hajjeh, the manager of the NGO Sanabel Nour. "There are so many people crowding in front of our distribution sitze that we have had to hire security guards."

Across the country, police are registering a "new form of theft," an official told the news agency AFP. "It involves baby milk powder, food and medicines."

Tripoli is home to the two richest men in the country, the Mikati brothers, who together are worth around $4.5 billion. They are keeping a low profile these days and it isn't even known if they are still in the country.
A Product of Lobbying

Their wealth comes from the country's most successful mobile phone company, and Najib, the younger of the two, served for years as prime minister. "I have spoken to him several times in recent months,” says a frustrated Mustafa Allouch, the surgeon. "He promised to help, but he isn’t doing anything. Nor are the other superrich. This state just doesn’t work. It never has."
Related Article

"Modern-Day Slavery": Humiliation and Abuse in Lebanon's Kafala System By Thore Schröder in Beirut



Lebanon never grew together as a nation, Allouch says, adding that it was pieced together by France a century ago from the leftovers of the Ottoman Empire. Ultimately, he says, it was the product of lobbying by rich merchants, particularly in Beirut. "But we have never felt like we belonged together."

Shiites, Sunnis, Maronites, Armenians, Greek-Orthodox Christians or Druze: All groups eye the others with suspicion, he says, their leaders stirring up fear of the others and only joining together to plunder the state. "We’re a kind of Frankenstein with make-up," Allouch says.

The radiance of Lebanon, and the myth of a "Middle Eastern Switzerland," has always been fragile, and no city has experienced this as painfully as Tripoli. Here, in a kind of remake of the civil war that continued for years until 2014, the inhabitants of the two poorest quarters would fire shots back and forth at each other: the Alawites from Jabal Mohsen and the Sunnis from Bab Tabbeneh.

The people in Bab Tabbeneh have always been poor, says Hassan Shair, a shopkeeper, but now everyone is in debt and more and, he claims, more people are resorting to theft to survive. A week ago, he says, he watched as a man with four children stood in the street screaming that he needed bread. Three days ago, he says, the battery was stolen out of his van. "It’s a disaster,” he said. "I can’t afford a new one.” He says that only drugs remain cheap, for whatever reason, and the number of junkies is growing.

"Hey, Ahmed!" He pulls a staggering adolescent with glazed eyes from the sidewalk into his store, "Look at him: all strung out!" Ahmed says nothing, looks confused for a moment, stumbles back out into the open and disappears.

There is an uproar outside, with a group of women making a ruckus and throwing rice into the street. It sounds not unlike a wedding, but all there is to see is just a man in sweatpants. He was released early from prison – because of the coronavirus pandemic, but also because the state can no longer feed the inmates.
Watching His Country Fall Apart

"We’re all going to go crazy here,” says Shair. "Or we'll starve. Or both."

A muscled man in a wheelchair pushes himself down a street, almost everyone greeting him as he rolls along: "Hey Toufic, how are you?” For years, Toufic Allouch has mediated between the different sides, traveling all over the country in that role, seeking to do his part to overcome the constantly bubbling mistrust born out of all the unresolved mistrust of the civil war. He took part in the fighting himself in Tripoli, until he was gunned down in 1983 by a group of drunken young Lebanese serving the Iraqi Baath Party.

Six of the seven marksmen were killed by his friends in retaliation, Allouch recounts soberly. At some point, though, he took a stance against the violence. He became an internationally successful wheelchair basketball player and coach and even joined football star Zinédine Zidane for dinner on one occasion. Now, though, he is in Tripoli watching his country fall apart.

He says he can hardly blame the men who sought to kill him for throwing their allegiance behind the Iraqi dictator back then. Even today, very few Lebanese identify themselves with their country. "I was prepared to die for the Palestinian cause,” he says.

His brother Mustafa, the surgeon, meanwhile, was more loyal to the Soviet Union than to Lebanon. Today, he says, it is Hezbollah that sees itself more as an Iranian spearhead than as a Lebanese party. "The roots are all the same: We want to be everything but Lebanese."

Still, he says, the country's collapse and the lack of overseas interest in Lebanon's fate does have, at best, one silver lining: A resumption of the civil war seems unlikely for now. "Who could afford it?" Allouch says with a laugh. "A single Kalashnikov costs $2,000 to $3,000.” Even a war must be paid for.
Deeply Wounded CityA Portrait of Beirut After the Explosion

Following the devastating explosion in the port, anger with the political elite is growing in Beirut. People there are trying to pick up the pieces, but many of them have nothing left to lose.


By Christoph Reuter, Thore Schröder und Lorenzo Tugnoli (Photos)

14.08.2020



View of Beirut from a destroyed apartment: "This cursed state does nothing to help the people, nothing." Foto: 

Lorenzo Tugnoli / DER SPIEGEL


Sometimes, it's just a trickle. But it never stops - the tinkling, jangling and crunching of glass splintered into hundreds of thousands of pieces. Even a week after the gigantic explosion on Aug. 4, which sent a powerful shockwave racing through Beirut initially at 2,500 meters per second, the city is still filled with the unceasing sound of shattering windows and glass panes.



Thousands of helpers and neighbors are sweeping up the shards as bulldozers push the shimmering blue turquoise piles together. Sometimes, entire glass facades collapse into the streets from several floors above. These are the sounds of a deeply wounded city.

That day, 2,750 tons of ammonium nitrate, a highly combustible ingredient in both fertilizer and explosives, detonated in the port of the Lebanese capital, the result of a chain reaction of unfathomable incompetence by the state, its security apparatus, the army and public agencies. The violence of the explosion ravaged the houses and apartments of around 300,000 residents. The death toll, according to the Beirut Bar Association, stands at 240 people, with more than 6,000 injuries.


Every evening since then, stone-throwing demonstrators have been marching toward parliament, and have been met with tear gas from the police. Prime Minister Hassan Diab's government resigned on Monday after just seven months in office, remaining in an acting capacity until a new government is chosen. "Corruption is bigger than the state," Diab said in parting, "and the state is paralyzed by this (ruling) clique and cannot confront it or get rid of it."

DER SPIEGEL 34/2020

The article you are reading originally appeared in German in issue 34/2020 (August 14, 2020) of DER SPIEGEL.

There were protests and resignations last fall as well, when the criminal pyramid scheme of the central bank imploded, sending the Lebanese currency into freefall and plunging the country into its worst economic crisis in decades. Thousands of people protested back then as well, for months on end. Prime Minister Saad Hariri was forced to resign, but things did not improve.


For decades, Hezbollah, the Shiite militia party, has been warning of the threat posed by Israel. At first, most of those who survived the explosion instinctively thought it had been caused by a rocket, by an Israeli air strike. It was all the more painful to realize that it was once again the complete indifference of the Lebanese elite that had plunged the country into ruin. "It sounds strange, but I would have preferred an Israeli missile," says a businessman from southern Lebanon who came to Beirut to help out. "The reality is so humiliating."

All of the illusions that the Lebanese may still have had about their country were shattered just like the picture windows of the high-rise apartments looking out onto the sea. Hezbollah and the others who hold power are refusing to make concessions, and they’re the ones with the weapons. But ever since the city recovered from the initial shock, rage has been growing. Even those who never wanted to give up on Lebanon, despite it all, are now losing hope. Calls for revolution are even coming from former mayors and from palace owners.

"It Makes No Sense Anymore"

A man is apoplectic as he demolishes the last intact window frame in a courtyard on Monday morning and screams at a small truck as it drives off. "I'll throw it into the street! I'll throw everything into the middle of the street," he screams, until his wife calms him down.

Passersby near the epicenter in the port: "It makes no sense anymore.” Foto: Lorenzo Tugnoli / DER SPIEGEL


The truck is the first sign of life from the city administration, six days after the catastrophe. But the driver is refusing to cart away debris that is not piled neatly on the side of the road. Residents have to do that part.

"This cursed state does nothing to help the people, nothing," fumes Pierre Aisa, once the long-time mayor of the swanky Beirut suburb of Baabda, where the country's president has his seat. Now, he is taking care of his 85-year-old mother-in-law who survived the detonation with injuries.

These days, conversations often end in anger and bitterness. Many mention violence as a last resort. The architect Ely Boustany owns one of the oldest homes in Mar Mikhael, one of the badly damaged areas of the city. He spent two years restoring the place. "We sent away all of the real-estate sharks who wanted to buy it, tear it down and build an apartment building," he says, carefully making his way up a half-destroyed staircase.

He shows off the deep red walls in the salon, precisely restored to their original appearance, and in the next room, the calligraphic quotes about Beirut from the legendary singer Fairouz and from Lebanese poets. "We wanted to restore a nugget of Beirut history as a hotel. It would only have had four or five rooms, but it was my passion." The hotel was to open at the beginning of this year. "But then came the economic crisis, and we hoped we could open in the summer. Then came corona. And now this."

Following the explosion, he says he called the city administration, the culture office and building officials. "I spent two days on the telephone to ask for help. Then, some nitwit from the city came by and said that the house was old and built of sandstone - no wonder it collapsed. That was it."

He pauses quietly and swallows hard, searching for words. "It makes no sense anymore. If you want to buy the house, go ahead."
Completely Obliterated

Gemmayze, the worst-hit neighborhood just across from the port warehouses, is Christian, but it has always been a microcosm of Beirut. Poor new arrivals would find shelter near the port while the superrich, like the Sursock family that resettled here from Constantinople in the 18th century, built their palaces on the hill demarcating the southern edge of the district. Ten or 15 years ago, Gemmayze became trendy, with bars and restaurants opening up all over. But the living, prewar relics remained, such as the corner store of Nasri Dekmak, who specialized in repairing chandeliers. Or Super Out, a shop that still sold used cassette tapes. And then there was Roupen Sulahian, whose father opened a prosperous company in 1952 selling ball bearings for large machinery. It was based out of a building that had remained unchanged since then – until Tuesday evening.

Ceremony for the victims Foto: Lorenzo Tugnoli / DER SPIEGEL


It has now been completely destroyed. Sitting among the wreckage of his life, Sulahian speaks hesitantly at first, then more energetically, about all that the business and his family had lived through. It’s a way of illustrating what this now means. "During the civil war, the 'Green Line,' the front, was just 100 meters from here." A piece of shrapnel from back then is still stuck in the molding of a cabinet. "But we stayed open, because business was good! Back then, there were more than 300 large companies in the country. We were the official representative of FAG, the West German ball bearing producer."

His grandfather came to Beirut in 1932, he says. "As a small boy, he was smuggled in from Gaziantep in a basket on the back of a donkey during the Armenian genocide perpetrated by the Ottomans. We have worked hard for three generations to build up a good livelihood. Lebanon was my homeland, I never wanted to leave. But now?"

He escaped the explosion unscathed, he says, because he closed up shop at 2 p.m. that day and went home. "We've hardly had any customers since the economic crisis," he says. "Of the 300 large companies, only 22 remain. The others have given up over the decades."

High above Sulahian, 67-year-old Robert Sursock is sitting in a halfway intact pavilion surrounded by his park-like garden as a half-dozen Germans in protective clothing and helmets knock on his door. The disaster experts from THW, a German government aid organization, and International Search and Rescue (ISAR) are going door-to-door to check buildings for structural integrity. Torgen Mörschel, a matter-of-fact structural engineer with an eye for detail looks at the meter-long cracks in the palace's load-bearing walls, whose façade is bowed outward. The weight of the roof is the only thing lending it much stability, says Mörschel, "but a strong wind could be enough to relieve that pressure, which may cause the wall to buckle, whereupon the collapsing roof could destroy everything."

Street scene: Chance decided between life and death. Foto: Lorenzo Tugnoli / DER SPIEGEL


The Sursock Palace has survived 160 years, a decade-and-a-half of civil war and two world wars almost untouched. It is Beirut's landmark palace. Now, its fate hangs on a gust of wind. Roderick Sursock nods. He, too, will later say that only a revolution and violence can get rid of this system.
Aid from Abroad

Thousands of volunteer helpers have been streaming into the streets since the explosion. Armed with brooms and buckets, they carry debris and shards of glass out of apartments. Many of them are from Beirut, but others are from Saida in the south or Akkar way up north. Municipal governments from smaller towns like Keserwan and Jounieh have sent bulldozers and dump trucks, while soup kitchens and first-aid stations are being operated by Caritas and small NGOs. They have set up open-air sites where neighbors can list the items the need most urgently. The Real Estate Developers Association is passing out plastic sheeting that can be used to temporarily replace shattered windows, and Orienthelfer, a German aid agency, has moved its field kitchen - which they received from the German military – from a refugee camp in the Bekaa Valley to Beirut, along with a few Syrian refugees. They are now delivering meals to the elderly and infirm in their half-destroyed apartments.

At midday on Sunday, Father Eli from the mountain village of Bkfeir sets up an improvised altar right in front of the hulking ruin of the Lebanese electricity agency. "To offer solace," he says. "Especially here! Especially now!" The singing of the small congregation competes with the tinkling and jangling of glass in the surrounding area. "Father, we ask for your mercy." A young man with a full beard and a Che Guevara T-shirt crosses himself incessantly.

Professional aid workers from France, Germany, Italy and Britain arrived within the first two days. The British took charge of dividing the city's neighborhoods into sectors of responsibility so they wouldn't get in each other's way. The Italians and French are searching the port for the dead while the Germans are primarily operating in the hills to the south.

On Thursday of last week, French President Emmanuel Macron strode through the Rue Gouraud, Gemmayze's destroyed main street, where he was cheered on by locals, who decried their own president as a "terrorist" and chanted "Revolution!" They saw him, it seemed, as their savior. Six days later, German Foreign Minister Heiko Maas came to inspect the damage in the port area.
Where Is the State?

Indeed, it feels as though everyone is doing their part. Everyone, that is, except the Lebanese state. Soldiers and police are merely warning passersby not to come too close to buildings in danger of collapse. Or they are pressuring homeowners to sign papers making them responsible for the condition of their houses as soon as they set foot inside.

There hasn't been even the smallest gesture of reconciliation, no state effort to help all those who have become homeless. None of the people who became billionaires through state-tolerated corruption have spoken out or even made a donation. It is as though the blast wave from Tuesday blew away the last illusions of volition and aptitude among the ruling class and their supporters in the state institutions.

For the residents of Gemmayze on that Tuesday of the explosion, tiny decisions and coincidences determined whether they lived or died. A Syrian worker named Saïd left the port shortly before 6 p.m. A Red Cross employee named Ayman picked up his car at 6:01 from a parking lot that just seven minutes later, was transformed into an inferno of twisted metal.

Jessica Bazdjian, a young nurse, decided to show up for her nightshift at the St. George Hospital in the Geitawi neighborhood one hour early. She had just passed through the entrance when the blast wave hit the hospital. "Her coworkers say that she was struck by the large glass door," says her sister Rosaline. Just four minutes earlier, Jessica had sent her mother a WhatsApp message as she did every day: "I made it to work."

The rest of the family felt the blast from their home in the suburb of Bsalim, and Jessica could suddenly no longer be reached. They all headed into the city, parking their cars once they hit the traffic jam on the outskirts and riding on motorcycles driven by strangers the rest of the way. "When we got to the clinic, everything was dark and destroyed," says Rosaline.

Soldiers before wreckage of a ship Foto: Lorenzo Tugnoli / DER SPIEGEL


Badly wounded patients were being treated in the streets, lit up by mobile phones, says Rosaline, who recognized her sister by her white trainers. "The ground around her was covered in blood. Jessica had a hole in her neck." Dead at 23. Her colleagues fought hard to save her, twice injecting her heart with adrenaline. Even a week after Jessica's death, the Bazdjians still hadn't heard anything from the Lebanese state. "But we had to pick up her body early the next morning," says her father George. "They didn't have electricity in the hospital for the dead. The people up there in power didn't even take care of that."

Hundreds of people showed up to the memorial ceremony on Monday evening for the four nurses who died, sitting in the ruins of what had been a 385-bed hospital. The blood on the ground had turned mostly black. Two priests, one Roman-Catholic and the other Greek-Orthodox, conducted services, with the families of the four victims sobbing quietly in the first row. Images of the dead were set up between dahlias and bouquets of roses next to an icon of St. George, the dragon slayer.

A piano player played a score from the movie "The Piano." "We wish we could have done more, much more," said a colleague in her eulogy. "We failed, but we were simply overwhelmed."
"Something Isn’t Right"

Amid the destruction, the death of one person sometimes meant others were able to survive.

When the Beirut Fire Department dispatcher on duty in Qarantina, the poor neighborhood east of the port, received the first calls from police that Tuesday at 5:55 p.m., saying that something was burning in the port, he wanted to know more. "I made it clear to them that I would not be sending any firetrucks until we knew what was burning," Raymond Farah said in an interview with Al Jazeera. "An officer from state security called back and said it was just a warehouse with fireworks. So I gave the dispatch order."

It seemed like a routine call. Nine firemen and a paramedic jumped into the truck and the ambulance and raced the short distance to the port, waved through the gate by armed guards. Farah was in constant radio contact with the responding firefighters. "They said something isn't right. The fire is huge and it sounds crazy." They asked him to send reinforcements, so Raymond Farah sounded the alarm, with all available firefighters grabbing their helmets and putting on their heavy jackets. They were running down the stairs to the trucks when the blast wave hit the building. Scalding hot air, the pressure from the blast and myriad bits of glass and stone shot through the top floor.

It was safer down below in the garage. Farah, who was unhurt, helped the injured and then waved down a moped rider on the street, who took him down to the port. "When we had managed to make our way through to near the epicenter, not a firetruck or ambulance could be seen. It was as though they had evaporated." He began searching desperately for his people. "But the biggest thing we found was about the size of a hand."

Memorial service in city center: "We failed.” Foto: Lorenzo Tugnoli / DER SPIEGEL


The incorrect information provided by the port security guard led to the death of the first 10 who responded, but also saved the lives of the 100 or more who would have immediately been dispatched for a massive fire. And it was only because of the last call from the fireman on the scene that they all ran downstairs where it was safer.

None of the guards at the port was aware of the deadly danger that lurked, says Raymond Farah. "If they had known what was being stored there, they all would have run away. Only the very top of the command chain was aware."

And they had been since 2014, when the ammonium nitrate from an abandoned freighter called Rhosus was brought into port. The port administration had repeatedly demanded it be removed. Now, the Interior Ministry, the customs agency, state security and the army are all trying to pass the buck to the other.

An investigative team from state security had sent an alarmed memo to the offices of the president and prime minister two weeks before the Aug. 4 explosion, something the recipients don't deny. President Michel Aoun says he told the security agencies to "do what is necessary" and said, "I'm not responsible." He also said he had no authority to deal with the port directly. Prime Minister Diab, who has since resigned, also said that he immediately passed the warning along.

But nothing happened.

Then something did happen - just enough to trigger the catastrophe. To at least fix the holes in the warehouse, a team of Syrians was sent out to weld them shut, a member of state security told the news agency Reuters. But, the official said, nobody bothered to tell the Syrians the warehouse was full of tons of ammonium nitrate along with confiscated fireworks.

A spark from the welders ignited the fireworks. The heat from that fire detonated the ammonium nitrate.
BACKGROUNDER BELARUS



“Maidan” in Belarus: threats or a real scenario
"Plošča" 2020: is the Belarusian society ready for mass protests?


mil.by 29.07.2020


In our previous analysis, “How state propaganda gives leverage to external forces,” we examined how the Belarusian authorities are trying to create the appearance of an external threat and are using it to mobilize within the country. The most striking example are the mysterious “militants” preparing a “massacre” Alexander Lukashenko spoke of at the beginning of June. Now the authorities are trying to sell this horror story for export, primarily to Russia. Judging by the reaction of the Kremlin, it is true that Russia does not want to associate itself with the organization of a false Maidan and possible blood spilled in Minsk and completely shifts all responsibility for what is happening to the Belarusian authorities.
Constructing a picture of a Belarusian “Maidan”


Monitoring of Belarusian state media and social networks shows active promotion of the topic of “Maidan,” which, of course, must be ruthlessly suppressed. Here, for example, the Telegram channel of the state news agency “Belta” is distributing anonymous provocative material called “Who is preparing the Maidan in Belarus.” Official media have been circulating Alexander Lukashenko’s statements about this threat for a long time.

The forceful dismantling of the authoritarian regime has become one of the primary bogeys in the post-Soviet space where authoritarian regimes dominate. “Color revolutions” materialize to rulers through any action of civil society. Alexander Lukashenka is no exception, but over the last month he has made the threat of “Maidan” a key point in his election campaign.

The authorities started talking about this violent scenario following the arrest of the main “street” politician Sergei Tikhanovsky at the very beginning of the election campaign. At that time, there was no “Bagration plan” from Maxim Shabutsky, nor any mention of certain Moscow puppeteers. Alexander Lukashenko personally introduced the topic of armed confrontation into official media circulation.


“In the end, no one knows how my friend Rakhmon entered the capital of Tajikistan with a machine gun to restore order. So many people died there. Oh, how they fought with those bearded men. We have forgotten how former President Karimov in Andijan crushed the putsch by shooting thousands of people. Everyone condemned him when he died – they knelt, wept, and cried. We have not gone through this, so we do not want to understand it. Some of us. Well, we’ll remind you!” he said on June 4.

Warnings about “Maidan” rained down throughout the election campaign, and at meetings with the military the president repeatedly spoke about the possibility of involving the army in suppressing protests.

“All sorts of wars now start with street protests, demonstrations, and then Maidans. At the Maidan, if there are no people of our own (we do not have enough “maidan-ers”), they will be pulled in from the side. These are professional military men, bandits who are specially trained, mainly within the framework of professional military companies around the world, and earn big money for provocations in various states,” Lukashenko said at a meeting with special forces in Maryina Gorka.

The entire information vertical is working on the bloodshed thesis. One of the top Belarusian media staff, a confidant of Alexander Lukashenko, Andrei Krivosheev, warned opponents of the authorities on social networks and advised them to “watch your backs,” recalling the fate of Nigoyan and Zhiznevsky. And the well-known state columnist Andrei Mukovozchik spoke almost openly about armed conflict:


“Are you ready for the fact that someone in your family, in your house, in your circle will die? Get ready. They can even kill, and most likely, they will certainly kill – without this, a woman’s revolt will not grow to a color revolution. And, most likely, they will kill their own: a provocation for a mutiny is the alpha and omega.”

Despite the odiousness, his texts should be carefully analyzed since the rhetoric of the “ideological mouthpiece” suspiciously coincides with the numerous “leaks” circulating in social networks about plans for a provocation. What is this? Is it just a campaign of intimidation or a scenario that the authorities are ready to implement at a critical moment?
A picture for the internal observer

As mentioned above, Lukashenka has repeatedly declared his readiness to use weapons and even the army if necessary. Moreover, messages appear on social networks (the question of their veracity is another story) about training security officials to shoot into crowds.

It is no secret that provocations have often been the reason for breaking up demonstrations in Belarus. This was the case in 2010, when provocateurs broke windows in the House of Government. Something similar happened in 2017, when tension in the information space was heightened with stories about militants storming across the border in a jeep and ending the case of the “White Legion.”

Obviously, the use of weapons against protesters will require something more significant than a clash with riot police. And here it is worth remembering the “leak” about the employees of “Alpha” who were allegedly trained in shooting at dummies in the form of riot police. In social media chats, such messages become thick with additional details: the task of training is not to kill, but to injure, and this is necessary (concluding in the message) in order to simulate an armed attack on police officers. To conceal the traces, shots can be fired, for example, from hotel rooms reserved with fake Russian passports (says the author, referring to the experience of the Ukrainian Maidan).


A logical question arises: Is it not under such a scenario that the state media warn about Maidan, while “sympathetic” protesters and disgruntled “sources” leak messages about how security forces are preparing for August 9?

To answer this question, one must assess whether such a scenario will be beneficial to authorities.

Alexander Lukashenko’s next term promises to be especially difficult. The unresolved issue of integration with the Russian Federation, growing economic difficulties, aggravated by the pandemic, the upcoming referendum on the Constitution – this is an incomplete list of problems with which the current president will enter the next term.

In such a situation, the postponed protests will turn out to be a time bomb for the authorities, which can explode at the most inopportune moment. The escalation of the conflict now, the “opening of the abscess,” and the harsh cleaning of the entire political field will become an inoculation against future speeches. In this case, one can forget about mass actions for a long time. Is this not an explanation of the logic of the “hawks” surrounding Lukashenka?

Do you think this is overstatement? But the same Mr. Mukovozchik candidly articulates this kind of scenario in the official press of the Belarusian Presidential Administration:


“We will not wait with our hands at our sides. […] We will excise, cauterize, isolate, and treat with care quickly. Only the scar will remain, but it will not harm us far into the Belarusian future. So that it never boils over again.”

The columnist Mukovozchyk and his curators do not consider or do not want to consider one important point: there are simply no real justifications for the use of force at this level in Belarus. The protests this year have been exceptionally peaceful. If there were clashes with riot police, these have been isolated cases, which, according to many observers, were provoked using disproportionate force by special forces. There is no need to talk about the possibility of full-scale collisions. In the public opposition discourse, there has never been any talk of a violent scenario for seizing power. All participants in the process have insisted on peaceful protest. Even now, after the arrests and non-registration of the main opponents of the incumbent president, the remaining actors are extremely cautious about coordinated mass action. The only statements on this score can be described as “if people come out, we will come out too.” That is, the opposition camp not only does not want bloodshed, but it is not beneficial to anyone.
External observers

The horrors of Maidan can be sold not only domestically but also exported.

Having made several significant mistakes both before and during the presidential campaign, the Belarusian authorities are trying to mold a new plan from the familiar material that was at hand.

The West is trying to sell gender-balanced elections and the threat of Russian interference. Russia, it seems, is being offered a story about “Maidan,” which the Kremlin, no doubt, fears much more than the extension of Lukashenko’s term.

According to our information, Moscow does not want a “harsh” scenario in Belarus, but rather is interested in the continuation of the “stagnation,” as a result of which the economy and society will degrade so much that they themselves will fall into the fraternal Russian arms without noise, dust or blood.

There may be several reasons for this reluctance. First, it is difficult to control the development of events, and the outcome options may not be in Russia’s favor. A real shock will lead to a change of power and Belarus’s slipping from control or to a massive clean-up of the political arena, which will also hit pro-Russian elements (when they are planning to strengthen them). Secondly, the worsening of the situation in Belarus could provoke a chain reaction in Russia itself, which is extremely undesirable given current Russian problems.

Moreover, Russian politics is so misogynistic that it will definitely not support the “woman’s rebellion,” our sources say.
We do not know what exactly is happening at the diplomatic level, but signals about the undesirability of such a scenario travel all over the media space. Moscow refuses outright any forceful scenarios and shifts all responsibility to Lukashenko and his circle.

Here, for example, is what the “flagship” of the Belarusian theme writes in the Russian-language Telegram space – “Nezygar”:


“Lukashenka has problems within the Family and the team. And Moscow has nothing to do with it. Moreover, Lukashenko is well aware of the balance of power and Russia’s refusal to participate in various Maidans and its desire to hear a sound position about integration… Moscow’s mission now is not to overthrow Lukashenko and create a new hotbed of tension near its own borders. The task is to weaken Lukashenko personally and his court circle.”

Another channel, Maisky Ukaz, echoes Nezygar:


“There really are no plans in Moscow to remove Lukashenko. Because any ‘Maidan’ movements in the CIS are seen as a rehearsal for destabilizing the situation in Russia itself by the Presidential Administration and by Vladimir Putin personally. Nobody dares to go to the President with such ideas for fear of being accused of alarmism.”

And there are many such messages. Not that we believe in the sincerity of Kremlin technologists. But what is written in Telegram creates an informational background for both Russians and Belarusians, on which the power scenario “from Lukashenko,” firstly, will be his responsibility, with all the blood that may be shed; and, secondly, it will build a “good” Kremlin that thinks about Belarusians, from a bad “bloody father.” Remember that the most active segment of both Russians and Belarusians use Telegram specifically.

A cursory monitoring of Russian media close to decision-making centers confirms that Moscow is not ready for such a development of events and does not want it. The Ukrainian project “Russia Today,” which also works in Belarus, usually writes about the threat of a Maidan, but notes that “Lukashenko has perceived something different.”

Key media outlets, in particular Kommersant, are also cautious about the likelihood of a real Maidan in Belarus. In Vzglyad, which is directly connected to the Russian Presidential Administration, Higher School of Economics (HSE) professor Andrei Suzdaltsev writes that “the main disseminators of rumors about Maidan are the Belarusian authorities and President Lukashenko himself, who are trying to justify repression and mobilize the pro-government electorate out of fear.” From the pages of the odious Pravda.Ru, also associated with the Russian Presidential Administration, Andrei Suzdaltsev has already stated that Lukashenko is alarming the Russian Federation so that it will support him.

“He performs flawlessly. He knows very well that in our political class, in the Russian expert community, the word “Maidan” is a coded word. We are ready to support anyone so that there will be no Maidan, and he made it so that only Lukashenka is heard and not the Belarusian people,” he said.

It seems that the Kremlin will not be able to sell a false Maidan in exchange for gas and a weakened onslaught on deep integration will also not come to fruition.
What will happen?

We do not undertake to predict now what will happen after August 9.

Only one thing is beyond doubt: the authorities are not ready to speak with society in a civilized language, and any disagreement or protests, even those peacefully structured, are perceived as direct threats and challenges.

The authorities have already made many mistakes in working with society, which was ready to take another boring election for granted in exchange for maintaining its sovereignty. But too many Belarusians do not want to wait for changes brought down from above. What is more, they seek to participate in peaceful reforms carried out in an independent and prosperous country. However, the authorities continue to speak with this segment of society in the language of ridicule, threats, dispersal, and bludgeons.

The conditional West and even the Kremlin have distanced themselves as much as possible from what is happening in Belarus before the elections and, it seems, are trying to persuade Lukashenko from different sides to be more careful with his own citizens, as no one needs blood spilled in Belarus. But the head of Belarus and his circle are increasing the degree of hysteria about external and internal enemies with each day.

Perhaps the fact is that Belarusian society has gone ahead and outgrown the ruling group and its leader. It seems to some in power that the simplest response in the form of threats is the most effective. However, without reforms and transformation of power, another presidential term may turn out to be the last term in Belarus as an independent country.

The article is also available on Reform.by

Материал доступен на русском языке: «Майдан» в Беларуси: угрозы или реальный сценарий



iSANS is an international expert initiative established in 2018 and aimed at detecting, analysing and countering hybrid threats against democracy, rule of law and sovereignty of states in Western, Central and Eastern Europe and Eurasia.
https://isans.org/about-us-en


UNFINISHED WHO WE ARE PAGE

What We Do

Our mission bla-bla-bla

Title
Text in block, text in block. Text in block, text in block. Text in block, text in block. Text in block, text in block. Text in block, text in block. Text in block, text in block. Text in block, text in block. Text in block, text in block. Text in block, text in block. Text in block, text in block.
BACKGROUNDER

Belarus at a Crossroads: Political Regime Transformation and Future Scenarios
Analysis of Belarus's election campaign and probable future scenarios

LONG READ 

RFE/RL's Belarus
22.07.2020 Andrei Yeliseyeu

Pre-election campaign period

Shortly after the changes in the Belarusian government in August 2018, Belarusian president Alyaksandr Lukashenka (Alexander Lukashenko) intensified his political activity. It indicated that one of the elections will likely be moved up to 2019, though both parliamentary and presidential elections were scheduled to take place in 2020. By separating the two campaigns in time authoritarian regimes intend to discourage political mobilization.

The 2nd European Games in June 2019 were beneficial to this purpose, and they inescapably became more a political than a sporting event. In the spring of 2019, amid worsened relations with the Kremlin and increased uncertainty in Belarus’s relationship with Russia, the Belarusian ruler made up his mind to hold parliamentary elections in November 2019, leaving the presidential elections for 2020.

Except for two 1,000-strong protest rallies in Minsk against the plans of further integration between Belarus and Russia in December 2019, no prominent street protest activity took place in Belarus last year. However, circumstantial evidence suggested a growing public mistrust toward the Belarusian authorities and Lukashenka personally. They were hit by a serious blow to their reputation at the 2019 Belarus’ Independence Day of 3 July. The festivities took a tragic turn after the fireworks killed a 64-year-old woman and injured 10 other spectators in Minsk. Despite state-owned media efforts to silence the incident, it was highly publicized online, particularly via websites of independent media, social networks, and Telegram channels.

In the absence of independent sociology in Belarus, assumptions concerning Lukashenka’s approval rating are based on indirect indicators such as people’s participation in state-organized events, the degree of accepted pluralism in various areas, and characteristics of state information policies.

Even prior to the 3 July accident, absenteeism at the 2nd European Games pointed at Belarusian citizens’ distrust of government. They largely ignored the European Games events, which took place from 21 June to 30 June 2019, despite enormous efforts of the Belarusian authorities. The European Games were widely labeled Hunger Games on social media due to state investments over $260 million, amid difficult economic conditions.

A completely “politically sterile” Belarus’s parliament of November 2019 was another indication of state authorities’ eroded reputation. Had his trust ratings been high, Lukashenka would have likely allowed opposition representation to have an extra bargaining chip in negotiations with the West, particularly amid tough talks with Moscow. The fact that there was absolutely no opposition in the parliament was therefore supposed to show the population and nomenklatura that the ruler retains full control of the situation.

In the past few years, a growing censorship on the internet and propaganda component in the state-owned media can also be seen as a manifestation of the political regime’s response to Lukashenka’s undermined reputation. The right to anonymity online was severely limited in December 2018 with the introduction of compulsory authentication of Belarusian internet users through SMS activation or by other means. In February 2018, the presidential administration newspaper Belarus Segodnya shut down the comments section on the website, apparently due to an increase in negative comments. Attempts to boost Lukashenka’s image by all means have led the state-owned media to an extreme departure from journalistic standards.

Another indicator of Lukashenka’s awareness of fallen approval ratings and his preparedness to increase degree of repression was the appointment of Major General Ihar Siarheyenka (Igor Sergeenko), Deputy Head of the KGB for counter-intelligence activities, as the head of the presidential administration in December 2019. Siarheyenka’s appointment was also an important milestone in the ongoing transformation of Belarus’s political regime. (More on this below.)



Pre-election mobilization and Lukashenka’s vague campaign

The presidential administration’s expectation to have non-emotional and otherwise nondescript elections of the type seen in 2015 failed to materialize due to the increased political mobilization. It was caused by economic grievances and exacerbated by inadequate response to the coronavirus epidemic clearly attributable to Lukashenka and his ruling coalition.

In early spring 2020, the normalization of relations with the Kremlin and personally with Vladimir Putin seemed to be the only significant challenging factor for Lukashenka’s election campaign. In the following months, the Belarusian strongman found himself in a much more complicated situation for several reasons.

The coronavirus epidemic began developing in Belarus in early March, exactly when the more active phase of Lukashenka’s election campaign began to unfold. Since early March the media coverage of Lukashenka’s working trips and other main topics by state-run media became much more positive and was designed to focus on (real or invented) success stories.

Over the course of March, state media covered the topics of successful diversification of oil supplies, the ceremonial presentation of passports to schoolchildren for the Constitution Day, the adoption of a presidential decree to stimulate the use of electric vehicles, and Lukashenka’s visits to rather flourishing Adani and Belgips companies.

The positive media coverage was suddenly overshadowed by the growth of the coronavirus epidemic. The Belarusian ruler did not hide his irritation, repeatedly criticizing excessive public attention to the coronavirus problem. Instead of quick adjustments to his campaign, Lukashenka repeatedly spoke out against extreme “corona-psychosis” and downplayed the risks of the epidemic. Instead of paying a single visit to a hospital or other medical institution, he made a number of controversial statements, which provoked public anger and jokes. Among other things, Lukashenka offered steaming in sauna, taking shots of vodka and working in the fields as a cure for coronavirus.

State-owned TV channels used a dozen manipulative tricks to convince the population of the insignificance of the coronavirus and the brilliant conduct of the Belarusian authorities. TV hosts repeatedly stated that no one died from the coronavirus in Belarus, cited absurd comparisons of mortality from other causes such as road accidents, and argued that world politicians were following Lukashenka’s wise actions. A representative online poll of Belarusian city residents conducted in April 2020 showed that over 70% of respondents wanted to be better informed about the spread of the coronavirus.

By June, Belarus was among 15 most-affected countries with the highest number of identified coronavirus cases per capita. At the same time, Belarus maintained one of the lowest infection fatality rates in the world. However, a number of observations (e.g., a very high share of coronavirus-related deaths among medical workers) suggest that the actual number of coronavirus-related deaths may be underestimated in official Belarusian statistics by 10 times or more. Moreover, in early May Lukashenka for a split second demonstrated a graph which was believed to contain alternative coronavirus-related statistics, with a higher number of identified cases than reported by the ministry of health.

A sheer drop of oil price over the spring of 2020 and COVID-19 pandemic implications negatively affected the economic situation in Belarus. Income from oil refining and the sale of potash fertilizers dropped, the service sector has suffered losses, and unemployment has risen. State support measures for small- and medium-sized businesses were limited and came late. As Lukashenka admitted in early July, he deliberately delayed their approval saying, “I held back this process, as I was waiting for you [business representatives] to take your money out of your pocket and invest it.” Furthermore, thousands of Belarusian households suffered from the disruption of circular migration flows as the entry to Russia and EU countries for most categories of Belarusian population remains restricted due to the coronavirus epidemic as of late July 2020.

Belarus belongs to the ten most censored countries in the world, according to the Committee to Protect Journalists 2019 report. This, combined with the large staff of state ideologists and a well-functioning system of electoral fraud, has made the Belarusian authorities quite successful at creating a myth about Lukashenka’s electoral majority. However, due to the growing popularity of new media and messengers like Telegram, access to information among Belarusian has greatly improved in recent years.

Despite various tricks by the Belarusian authorities to convince the population of the opposite (including the publication of allegedly secret documents with sociological data), during the 2020 election campaign an increasingly larger part of Belarusian society began to realize that Lukashenka’s opponents are in a majority.

A representative poll of Minsk residents conducted by the Institute of Sociology of the Belarusian Academy of Sciences throughout March and early April 2020 showed that the Lukashenka’s trust rating amounted to 24%, while the Central Election Commission enjoyed an even lower rating of 11%. Taking into account the effect of social desirability and deteriorated epidemiological and economic situation since that time, in July 2020 Lukashenka’s trust rating among Minsk residents hardly exceeded 15-20%.

While the share of Lukashenka’s supporters among the rural population and people aged 70+ is undoubtedly higher, a low level of support among the urban population is irrefutable. The people’s trust in government and Lukashenka in regional cities and smaller towns is unlikely to differ greatly from the capital region.

Earlier surveys of the population also indicate a high degree of dissatisfaction with living conditions. Asked “How would you generally assess your current life situation?,” only 6.9% of respondents answered “Better than average,” a nationwide survey of the Belarusian youth (aged 18-29 years) conducted under the auspices of the Institute of Sociology in 2017 showed. The option “It is difficult to live, but one can endure it” was chosen by 33.8% of respondents, whereas “The situation is dire, it is already impossible to endure” saw 21.1%.

Moreover, 55.1% of young Belarusians fully or partially agreed with the statement “The development of society requires somewhat drastic social and political changes from time to time.” Twice fewer (23.3%) disagreed with this statement to varying degrees, while the rest was uncertain. Today’s figures assessing the living situation are likely even more depressing. Hence the view that Belarusians prefer a vague concept of “stability” to whatever societal changes does not find support at least among young people.

By late April, Lukashenka faced a stark new political reality after high electoral support of his main political opponents became very clear. Viktar Babaryka, former head of the Board of Belgazprombank, collected around 435,000 signatures in his support, more than any other democratic candidate in Belarus’s history. Sviatlana Tsikhanouskaya, a wife of popular blogger Siarhei Tsikhanouski who was put in custody on dubious charges, also managed to collect over 100,000 signatures required for registering as a presidential candidate, despite multiple arrests of initiative group members and continuous state counteractions.

Amid an unprecedented political mobilization, Lukashenka’s election campaign took vague forms and became rather reactive. It proved to be proactive only in the part of repressive actions as explained in greater detail below. The Belarusian ruler even canceled his traditional annual Address to the People and Parliament. Throughout July Lukashenka repeatedly mentioned “five pandemics” that Belarus is witnessing, speaking about carbon, economic, political, and information pandemics in addition to coronavirus. His election campaign’s main message can be tentatively formulated as “We are together, we are one country,” while Belarus’s independence and sovereignty are presented as his primary achievements.

Lukashenka’s domestic political priorities

To forestall a growing political mobilization of the population, since April Alyaksandr Lukashenka prioritized the following domestic political actions:
A campaign of repression and discrediting the most popular political opponents.
Larger control over information flows, including through reprisals against popular bloggers.
Intimidation of civilian population.

Both of Lukashenka’s most popular political opponents, Siarhei Tsikhanouski and Viktar Babaryka, are facing lengthy prison terms on various dubious charges. Tsikhanousky was detained in Hrodna following a suspected provocation against him with the participation of a woman who was later identified as a Minsk-based prostitute. Among other things, Tsikhanouski is accused of threatening the life of Lidziya Yarmoshyna, the head of the Central Election Commission. The accusation is based, among other things, on a slogan mentioning Yarmoshyna and containing a Russian word that means “to swat,” which was present at one of Tsikhanouskaya’s public meetings.

Viktar Babaryka and his son Eduard, head of his election campaign headquarters, are accused of various financial crimes. State officials including Lukashenka have repeatedly used derogatory statements about Tsikhanouski and Babaryka and asserted their guilt. State-owned TV channels broadcast a number of reports using fragments of investigative actions and claiming Babaryka’s implication in crimes, in violation of the presumption of innocence.

As for the greater control of information flows, several popular YouTube bloggers and Telegram channel authors were arrested on charges of preparing mass events that grossly violate public order. Over 40 journalists have been detained when covering peaceful protests over the two past months, some of them were beaten by law enforcement officers. The Belarusian authorities began experimenting with shutting down mobile internet during protests. The Prosecutor’s Office made a statement that the reading of news on the internet by public servants may amount to a corruption offense.

It was reported in early June that by the decision of the Academy of Sciences, online polls on political issues were equalized to opinion polls, which, according to the law, must be licenced. Therefore by conducting an online poll Belarusian media outlets risk to be fined and to receive a warning from the ministry of information. In the event of two warnings during a calendar year a media outlet in Belarus may be closed as ordered by court decision.

At least 1,140 arbitrary detentions took place between 6 May and 20 July, over 500 people were either fined or received administrative arrests, human rights defenders report. Lukashenka and representatives of law enforcement agencies made a number of statements aimed to intimidate the population. In early June, Lukashenka praised bloody suppression of Andijan protests by the former Uzbek ruler Islam Karimov. State-run TV channels showed the KGB chief Valery Vakulchyk taunting a 81-year-old lady who had publicly criticized Lukashenka’s policies.

Lukashenka repeatedly spoke about readiness to prevent a “Maidan” at any cost, groundlessly accusing his political opponents of intention to “organize a massacre in the square.” Interestingly, a number of marginal Russian sites also published stories about possible serious provocations by “radical Belarusian nationalist groups” in the Mahiliou and Viciebsk regions adjacent to Russia.

Political regime transformation: Towards a stronger military rule

While a number of factors, primarily historically lowest level of public’s trust, make Lukashenka’s ongoing election campaign most challenging, he benefits from the highest degree of centralization of power in sovereign Belarus’s history and unprecedented strength of the security apparatus.

Belarus’s political regime is often categorized as a classic personalist type. For two decades the capacity of all state institutions in Belarus was kept very low so as not to give rise to organizational centers of opposition. In accordance with the categorization of political regimes by Juan J. Linz and Alfred Stepan, Belarus’s political regime is likewise sometimes classified as sultanism. This type of political regime is characterized by the extreme personal presence of the ruler in all elements of governance. In sultanism, the ruler is not bound by any rules or a given ideology. In their final stages of existence, sultanisms often have a very narrow social basis, often restricted to a small circle of its clients.

The original Geddes classification of authoritarian regimes reflects three ideal types: personalist, military, and one-party dictatorships. Based on the approach that differs from the existing practice of creating categorical typologies of autocratic regimes, one can speak about the recent, or rather ongoing evolution of Belarus’s political regime to a personalist military type. Indeed, lately political scientists point at the practical need to distinguish between collegial and personalist military rule.

Acknowledging that authoritarian regimes of any type almost always rely on some degree of repression against competing groups, personalist military dictatorships are characterized by much stronger military rule. Under the military not only the army, but security bodies and other law-enforcement agencies may be thought to include.

The appointment of KGB Major General Ihar Siarheyenka as the head of the presidential administration in December 2019 was an important milestone in the evolution of Belarusian authoritarianism towards a personalist military type. Until 2016 Siarheyenka was blacklisted by the EU for repressions against civil society and democratic opposition in the Mahiliou region and in Belarus. Lukashenka also put Mikhail Miasnikovich, a powerful figure in a ruling coalition, aside by sending him to Moscow upon his appointment as Chairman of the Board of the Eurasian Economic Commission.

The influence of persons specialized in the use of force in the Belarus’s ruling coalition increased even more after the June 2020 government reshuffle. Raman Halouchanka (Roman Golovchenko), who previously chaired the State Authority for Military Industry and served as a chief specialist of the State Secretariat of the Security Council, replaced liberal-minded economist Siarhei Rumas as a new prime minister.

Other than that, former KGB Deputy Chairman Major General Ivan Tertel replaced Leanid Anfimau with background in the industrial sector and management as Chairman of the State Control Committee. Tertel has been very zealous in putting his efforts to persuade the Belarusian population and international community in Babaryka’s crimes. At the closed meeting with the US and EU countries’ diplomats on 18 June 2020, which was dedicated to the Belgazprombank criminal case, Tertel reportedly played a leading role and acted rather aggressively, including towards Belarus’s foreign minister Uladzimir Makei.

A ‘civilian’ component in Lukashenka’s ruling coalition has never been as sidelined from decision-making processes as it is now. Decision-making in sovereign Belarus has never lied in the hands of the so strong military bloc consisting of siloviki as chairmen of the presidential administration and the government, the Security Council, KGB, Ministry of Interior, State Control Committee, Investigative Committee, Prosecutor’s Office, and other law enforcement agencies.

Such political transformation poses a coup threat against an eventual nascent democratic regime in Belarus until it is reformed. “The anticipation that the military will be reformed in the future acts as an additional motivation for the military to undertake coups against democratic governments,” one comparativist political study says.

The recently increased military rhetoric of the Belarusian ruler and Belarus’s state-run media reflects the evolution of Belarus’s political regime. In mid-July 2020 Lukashenka advocated for a constitutional amendment preventing a person who did not serve in the army, to become a president. Unlike Russian leadership, he did not postpone the Victory Day military parade on 9 May 2020 amid a surge of coronavirus cases, despite widespread public criticism. Reporting about Belarus’s Independence Day of 3 July 2020, state-owned TV channels claimed it has much in common with the Victory Day, making parallels between WWII war and continuous struggle for Belarus’s independence and sovereignty led by Lukashenka.

The dynamics of the Belarus-Russia relationship

In response to Minsk’s wishes for Moscow’s greater economic support, including in the form of compensations for Russia’s oil tax reform and lower gas prices, in late 2018 the Kremlin articulated the integration ultimatum. It lies in the readiness to provide Minsk with more beneficial energy deals, subject to deeper integration of Belarus with Russia in various spheres within the framework of the 1999 Union State Treaty. This would involve the introduction of common currency, creation of single Tax and Civil Codes and supranational bodies, and approximation of Belarusian legislation with Russia’s in many other spheres.

Over the last two decades Lukashenka skillfully traded geopolitical loyalty and military cooperation for Russia’s generosity. The Kremlin, however, pointed to a change in the model of bilateral relationship, declining the long-standing scheme “oil and gas in exchange for kisses” and demanding the shares of Belarus’s sovereignty instead. Since the beginning of 2019, the Belarusian authorities have been involved in intensive negotiations with Moscow over the program of action on stepping up integration. Its content and course were concealed as much as possible from the Belarusian parliament and the public.

Although the program of action was initialed and a list of 31 integration roadmaps was approved by the prime ministers of Belarus and Russia on 6 September 2019, none of these documents has been published. In December 2019 former Russian prime minister Dmitry Medvedev stated that the 31st integration roadmap foresees the introduction of a single currency and creation of supranational bodies, something that Lukashenka repeatedly denied of being discussed. In the 31st integration roadmap Moscow reportedly proposed to discuss the creation of a single Court of Audit, single customs, tax, and competition authorities, as well as common regulating agencies in transportation, industry, agriculture, and other spheres.

The program of action was not, however, approved by the Belarusian and Russian leaders on 8 December 2019 to coincide with the 20th anniversary of the Treaty on the Union State. The negotiation process was put on hold since December 2019. The Belarusian authorities conditioned the signing of integration agreements with top-priority concessions from Russia, primarily in terms of oil revenue compensation and reduced gas price, and were reluctant to discuss the 31st integration roadmap, presenting it as the issue of a distant future. In turn, the Kremlin counted on Minsk’s written commitments as for the deeper integration within the agreed timeline, before providing concrete economic concessions in the energy field and others.

One can assume that the erosion of Lukashenka’s reputation among Belarusian officials has been relentless since late 2018 due to unsuccessful series of negotiations with Putin. The two leaders met 11 times, including for 2- and 3-day negotiations, between December 2018 and December 2019. By 2020 Minsk did not succeed in getting either compensations for Russia’s oil tax reform or lower gas prices. Over the years, Lukashenka’s ability to provide Russian resources has shaped him as an irreplaceable earner. In the event of a conclusive inability to find a mutually beneficial solution with Moscow, an accelerated Lukashenka’s delegitimization among nomenklatura may occur. As of mid-July 2020 no signs of disloyalty in his ruling coalition were observed.

A growing political mobilization and heightened repressions in Belarus, and hence worsening relations with the West, increase the probability of a new Lukashenka’s integration package with Russia in exchange for Kremlin’s political and economic support.

Prior to or immediately after the two previous presidential elections, Lukashenka ensured the deepened integration between Belarus and Russia. Ten days before the presidential elections of 19 December 2010, Lukashenka and Medvedev agreed on the terms of Belarus’s accession to the Common Economic Space. Shortly after the brutal dispersal of street protests on election day, all 17 documents pertaining to the CES creation were ratified by Minsk. A year before the 2015 presidential elections, Minsk ratified the Treaty on the Eurasian Economic Union. For each of these deals, Belarus was awarded with larger oil revenues.

After a series of public squabbles between Belarusian and Russian officials over the response to the coronavirus pandemic in the spring of 2020, a dialogue over deeper integration has intensified in June.

During the online discussion “Russia and Belarus: The post-pandemic future” on 4 June, Belarusian Ambassador to Russia Uladzimir Siamashka (Vladimir Semashko) stated, “Minsk is ready at any time to sit down at the negotiating table [to discuss integration roadmaps] if we have the goodwill of our Russian partners and friends.” Such a moment for the continuation of negotiations may come in September of October, Siamashka added.

During the same event Russian ambassador Dmitry Mezentsev said that the West follows Brzezinski’s commandments and wishes to tear Belarus away from Russia. He also criticized the fact that on account of “far-fetched, artificial pretexts and obstacles” resulting from “political nuances and conjuncture” Belarusian goods cannot make it to Crimea.

On June 5, an online meeting of the High-Level Group of the Council of Ministers of the Union State of Russia and Belarus was held. During the meeting, several issues were resolved, including those related to integration roadmaps, while other issues were postponed until September.

Another online conference with the participation of high-ranking officials of Belarus and Russia and Secretary of the Union State Grigory Rapota was held on 10 June. At the conference, entitled “Russia and Belarus: Horizons of Strategic Cooperation,” Mezentsev mentioned Siamashka’s promise to continue negotiations in the fall and again spoke about alleged attempts by external forces to tear Belarus away from Russia. In his opinion, soon such attempts will surely be “even tougher and more refined.”

During the online conferences, it turned out that Minsk and Moscow have different understandings of the number of agreed integration roadmaps. According to Mezentsev, 27 documents out of 31 have been approved, whereas Siamashka stated that 28 and a half out of 30 roadmaps had been agreed upon. Apparently, the Belarusian side continues to ignore the existence of the 31st roadmap, although in early July it was confirmed by the Secretary of the Union State Grigory Rapota.

The format of future Belarus-Russia relationship remains in the state of uncertainty given the strained personal relationship between Lukashenka and Putin, upcoming presidential elections in Belarus amid low Lukashenka’s electoral rating, and possible negative impacts that the novel coronavirus outbreak is poised to bring for both counties. At the same time, likely due to Lukashenka’s signals to Moscow about his readiness to proceed with a new integration round in exchange for the much needed political support, the bargaining process over deepened integration restarted in June. The rather restrained reaction of the Russian side to the Belgazprombank criminal case and recent statements by Russian officials favouring further integration indicate that the Kremlin is eyeing the possibility to strike a new integration deal with the politically weakened Lukashenka.

Dilemmas and Future Scenarios

In Belarus the state organs such as courts, electoral commissions, and Prosecutor’s Office are in the hands of the ruler and his inner circle. It allows him to unilaterally control the organization, monitoring, and adjudication of elections. Opposition unity and a consequent threat of massive civil disobedience can compel autocrats to hold clean elections and leave office by triggering splits within the state apparatus, one article suggests.

Although the contours of the Belarusian opposition unity emerged on 16 July with the decision of Viktar Babaryka’s and Valery Tsepkala’s campaign headquarters to unify around Sviatlana Tsikhanouskaya, so far no genuine threat of massive massive civil disobedience was posed, therefore a vast electoral fraud remains very likely.

The existing institutions have not been transformed and election-related malpractices continue. For the upcoming presidential election, out of 1,989 members of the territorial election commissions only two represent opposition parties, whereas out of over 63,000 members of local election commissions only a few represent the Babaryka-led “Honest People” initiative. Minsk’s refusal to invite OSCE / ODIHR observers also points to the Belarusian authorities’ plans to announce another Lukashenka’s devastating victory, without any regard for real voting results.

The two most important factors for the further development of the political situation in Belarus will be the Kremlin’s position and the level of opposition mobilization capacity. The West’s actions will hardly be decisive given its very limited leverage over the situation in Belarus.

In the event of limited mobilization capacity with no genuine revolutionary threat, Lukashenka will get more maneuverability in negotiations with Moscow. However, even in this situation, it will not be easy for him to continuously postpone a new integration deal with Russia. Faced with an increasingly problematic balance of payments, Minsk’s needs for rapid external financial assistance will likely increase in the coming months. In this situation the West may find itself in an awkward position: To provide macroeconomic assistance to Belarus despite mass violations of human rights and electoral standards, or to leave Minsk alone in tough negotiations with Moscow which will increase risks to Belarus’s sovereignty.

The less the ‘civilian’ component in the Belarus’s ruling coalition, the lower the probability of its split over the issue of a new integration package with Russia will likely be. However, one cannot rule out a repeated opposition’s mobilization stemming from the activation of deepened integration talks.

If, despite the efforts of repressive apparatus, the opposition’s mobilization capacity remains high and massive acts of civil disobedience take place, the likelihood of a new Belarus’s integration deal with Russia will increase exponentially. In the situation of an even greater Lukashenka’s delegitimization the Kremlin will, however, face deeply uncomfortable choices: To provide Lukashenka a life-saving support, to push him into a deeper integration but create a time bomb for Russia’s image among Belarusians, or to avoid providing political support to Lukashenka therefore risking to get a more problematic bilateral relationship with an eventual new Belarusian leadership.

The first option entails a combination of heightened repressions in Belarus, possibly with Russia’s direct or indirect support in one form or another, and buying loyalties thanks to greater economic support from Moscow. This scenario will result in the coercion of the Belarusian population towards a new reality of a deeper integration with Russia under the continuous rule of Lukashenka, even in the situation of his record low approval rating.

The other option, envisaging Moscow’s deliberate lack of political support to Lukashenka amid possible massive civil disobedience in Belarus, is rather improbable. Such form of the regime’s replacement in Russia’s vicinity, particularly in the neighbouring Belarus, will be seen in the Kremlin as an undesirable turn. Moscow will unlikely play such a risky game and bet on any alternative political force in Belarus, if only Lukashenka’s position becomes extremely weakened. This development, however, would rather prompt Moscow to force him into a new integration deal on Russia’s terms. At the same time, the odds of success for deliberate strategies of any major actor will lengthen in the light of quickly evolving circumstances and imperfect information.

Download .PDF (362,61 Kb)





iSANS is an international expert initiative established in 2018 and aimed at detecting, analysing and countering hybrid threats against democracy, rule of law and sovereignty of states in Western, Central and Eastern Europe and Eurasia.
https://isans.org/about-us-en


UNFINISHED WHO WE ARE PAGE

What We Do

Our mission bla-bla-bla

Title
Text in block, text in block. Text in block, text in block. Text in block, text in block. Text in block, text in block. Text in block, text in block. Text in block, text in block. Text in block, text in block. Text in block, text in block. Text in block, text in block. Text in block, text in block.



https://eng.belta.by/all-rubric-news/viewSuzet/presidential-elections-in-belarus-48/




Sputnik Belarus propaganda and disinformation
Twisting reality
Sputnik Belarus
20.07.2020

https://isans.org/multimedia-en/sputnik-belarus-propaganda-and-disinformation.html

Twisting reality: Due to biased selection of commentators Sputnik Belarus consistently discredits Ukraine, Poland, the Baltic states, the EU and the West as a whole, and promotes the so called Russian World. Absurd parallels between the modern Western countries and Nazi Germany and many conspiracy theories stand out.





SOVIET ACTIVE MEASURES REBORN FOR THE 21ST CENTURY: WHAT IS TO BE DONE?

 by Alexander M. Perkins December 2018 Thesis 

NAVAL POSTGRADUATE SCHOOL MONTEREY, CALIFORNIA THESIS 
https://apps.dtic.mil/dtic/tr/fulltext/u2/1069692.pdf

ABSTRACT (maximum 200 words) 

Americans were largely surprised when the intelligence community revealed that Russia had launched a widespread influence operation focused on the 2016 U.S. presidential election. With their hightech, social-media focus, these practices struck many as a newly implemented tactic against the United States. However, throughout the Cold War, the Soviet Union developed and deployed influence operations—then called “active measures”—against the United States and its allies. During the last decade of the Cold War, the United States actively and systematically combatted this threat. But with the collapse of the Soviet Union in 1991, active measures seemed to fade into history as well. This thesis argues that Russia has reincarnated this Cold War relic and is using active measures throughout the world to advance its strategic interests, especially in its post-Soviet space. Russia is utilizing 21st-century technology to gain access to Western populations and sow discord, distrust, and disorder. Thus, this thesis examines the Soviet-era active measures, the U.S. Cold War countermeasures, and Russian active measures today to make recommendations on ways to counter this form of malevolent influence. This thesis finds that the United States should organize purposefully and consistently to counter Russian active measures, educate the American public to increase its resiliency against foreign influence, and intensify its strategic public diplomacy efforts throughout Europe.