The Barbecue And Tent Are Also A Symbol Of Protest

• Irina Khalip
• 20.03.2026, 17:14

20 years of the tent city on Oktyabrskaya Square.

Exactly twenty years ago, in the center of Minsk, tents were put up under white-red-white flags. And these tents are as important a stage of our struggle as the Charnobylski Shliach-1996, the Freedom March-1999, the Square-2010 and the protests-2020. For decades, Belarusians have been defending the right to walk the streets of their cities under national flags and demand that the dictator get the hell out. This tent city is one of the most bitter yet beautiful memories of that time. A generation of those born after has already grown up. And we must remember what happened then, twenty years ago, not only for our own sake, but also for theirs.

Then it was only a year after the first Maidan in Ukraine, and the whole world was comparing Minsk October Square with Maidan. Nothing in common, we assured our Western, Ukrainian and Russian colleagues, nothing in common at all, don't you see? Maidan could only appear in a free country. In a country where entrepreneurs could bring food and warm clothes to the center of Kiev by truck and leave for a new shipment. In a country where university professors released students from lectures so that they could go to Maidan. In a country where no one prevents protesters from installing biotoilets and heaters on the square. In Belarus, Maidan would have been impossible.

Teachers of our universities, unlike those in Kiev, warned students about expulsion if anyone was seen on the square. And those Minsk citizens, who carried warm clothes and food there, were caught by riot police at the exit from the subway. Those who were lucky - they got a poke in the ribs and took away their bags. The less fortunate were sent to Okrestina. Nevertheless, if on the first day nine tents were set up on the square, the next day there were 35 of them. Through the cordons, through the cordon, through the cordon people penetrated there and helped the young revolutionaries. The owner of the then popular "London" coffee shop pretended to be a crazy Indian and wrapped himself in a plaid plaid to go to the square and throw it to the inhabitants of the tent city. Those who were carrying clothes put them on themselves to confuse the law enforcers - three sweaters, two jackets each, and even wrapped blankets under the jackets. And in the evenings one could observe a strange accumulation of stiff fat men around the square, who, having seeped through the cordon and fence, came back sharply thinner by two or three sizes.

One surprising person managed to sneak four braziers and coals under the noses of the law enforcers. Another had a bio-toilet. And pots with hot soup appeared there even mystically. And the three-plus days that we managed to hold on for is a lot. By the way, when the special forces stormed the town at night, and everyone who was there was shoved into trucks, the future detainees called their friends and acquaintances and asked them to come out on March 25, the Day of Will. They were not thinking about themselves, but about the continuation of the protest.

And everyone came out. Then there was a mass march to Okrestina to free the prisoners. And troops under Pavlichenko's command. And flash-bang grenades, and gas, and smoke bombs, and shouts of "we are not afraid!". And thousands of beaten and arrested. And again "we are not afraid, we have the Day of Will, and we will walk freely in our city!". And overcrowded prisons, and weekends declared as working days for judges, and fear, and pride, and confidence that now the point of no return is definitely passed. By the way, no one ever found out exactly when it was passed. Perhaps it was then. On the other hand, in our situation it is not so important. Not the date, but the outcome - that's what is most important.

These memories are like the names of political prisoners, just as precious. When the next batch is taken out of prisons, we start looking for the names of our friends in the lists. We don't find them, but we go over their names in our memory. Lena didn't get out, Olga didn't get out, how could it be... But Katya did, how great. In the same way, the rest of the time we go through the memories of our protests of different years, of heroic and desperate marches and rallies, of how we stood shoulder to shoulder and continue to stand, reaching out to each other across continents and borders. And getting closer and closer to each other.

Because twenty years ago, Will Day was not yet a universal holiday. But today it is a holiday of every Belarusian. Twenty years ago not everyone considered the white-red-white flag his own. Today there is no Belarusian for whom the flag would be a red-green rag.

So, tomorrow our flag will return to the streets of our cities. And we with it. The Day of Will is not far off.

Irina Khalip, especially for Charter97.org.