On August 12, 2020, two groups of girls went out to protest in Minsk, the capital city of Belarus. They put on white clothes and went barefoot out into the street. In the morning, some went to Komarovskiy Market in the center of town. Later that day, the other group gathered with flowers at the eternal flame under the victory monument. They stood together holding hands, and they started to sing the Belarusian lullaby, waiting for the police cars to arrive. They knew the police would pick them up just like that: barefoot with flowers in their hands, that they would take them to the police station, beat them up and try to humiliate them. And yet they did it anyway.
O 12 de Agosto de 2020 dous grupos de rapazas saíron a protestar en Minsk, a capital de Belarús. Vestíronse de branco e saíron descalzas á rúa. Pola mañá algunhas foron ó mercado de Komarovskiy, no centro da cidade. Máis tarde ese mesmo día as demais reuníronse con flores baixo a chama eterna do monumento á vitoria. Ficaron de pé colléndose das máns, e comezaron a cantar unha canción de berce belarusa, agardando a que chegasen os coches da policía. Sabían que a policía as collería tal que así: descalzas e con flores nas súas máns; sabían que as levarían á comisaría, que lles ían bater e que ían tentar vexalas. E, aínda así, fixérono.
This year, something changed in Belarus, a country of more than nine million people that has been ruled by an authoritarian leader since 1994. These young women were protesting the latest rigged election result, which had taken [place] just a few days earlier. Their small expressions of protest very quickly expanded into massive, peaceful, women-led demonstrations all across the country.
Este ano, algo cambiou en Belarús, un país con máis de nove millóns de persoas que tivera no poder un líder autoritario dende 1994. Estas rapazas protestaban polo resultado das últimas eleccións amañadas, que tiveran lugar había só uns días. Os seus pequenos xestos de protesta espalláronse con moita rapidez, dando lugar a manifestacións masivas, pacíficas e lideradas por mulleres por todo o país.
Within just a few days, a few hundred thousand people took to the streets and demonstrations have continued ever since, the likes of which Belarus has never seen before. All this despite the fact that the president proclaimed himself reelected and that more than 10,000 people have been detained, hundreds tortured and at least six killed.
Nuns poucos días, varios centos de milleiros de persoas tomaron a rúa e as manifestaciós continúan dende entón, en formas nunca vistas en Belarús. E todo isto a pesar do feito de que o presidente se proclamase reelexido por el mesmo e máis de 10.000 persoas foran detidas, milleiros torturadas, e, polo menos, seis asasinadas.
Many people wonder why the people of Belarus are speaking up now. What makes them keep taking to the streets despite unprecedented police violence, despite state lawlessness? The answer I hear the most is that people have become fearless, and it's something we have become together.
Moitas persoas pregúntanse por que os belarusos están a falar agora. Que é o que os segue a levar á rúa a pesar da violencia policial sen precendentes, a pesar de se atoparen nun Estado sen lei. A resposta que máis oio é que a xente perdeu o medo, e iso é algo que fixemos xuntos.
Because fear is the province of one. It feeds on isolation. It doesn't discriminate: men, women, children, elderly -- all of us can feel fear, but only as long as we are on our own. Fearlessness takes two. It only works if and when we show up for each other. Show up so that your neighbor, your colleague, your friend has courage. And they will do the same for you.
Porque o medo forma parte de cada quen. Aliméntase do noso illamento. Non discrimina: homes, mulleres, nenos, vellos... Todos nós podemos sentir medo, pero soamente mentres esteamos sós. Fan falta dous para sermos valentes. E só funciona se e cando, damos a cara os uns polos outros. Dá a cara para que o teu veciño, o teu colega ou o teu amigo teña coraxe. E eles faran o mesmo por ti.
A lot has been made of my own role in the presidential election of August 2020. How I stepped in to run for my husband, Sergei, when he was jailed and it became clear that the authorities would deny him his chance to run himself; how I rightfully won the election and became the elected leader of a democratic Belarus, but the official results only gave me 10 percent of the vote and I was forced into exile with my children; how I still fight for those who voted for me and whose voice the regime wants to steal; how "fearless" I am.
Falouse moito do meu papel nas eleccións á presidencia de Agosto de 2020. De como me presentei polo meu home, Sergei, cando foi encarcerado e quedou claro que as autoridades non lle ían permitir presentarse de como gañei as eleccións de forma lexítima e convertinme na líder electa da Belarús democrática, pero os resultados oficiais déronme só o 10% dos votos e fun obrigada a exiliarme cos meus fillos; de como sigo a loitar por aqueles que votaron por min e aqueles cuxa voz o réxime quere roubar; do "valente" que son.
But there were many moments when I was frightened, and I wanted to step down. I was threatened and forced to believe that I'm alone in this fight. And yet the more cities I visited, the more people showed up for the rallies, the less fear I had. And then in the days before the election in Minsk, 60,000 people came to show their support for me, and I was no longer afraid.
Pero houbo moitos momentos nos que tiven medo, e quixen recuar. Fun ameazada e obligada a pensar que estaba soa nesta loita. E, aínda así, cantas máis cidades visitaba, canta máis xente había nos mitins, menos medo tiña. E logo, os días antes das eleccións en Minsk, 60.000 persoas viñeron a amosar o seu apoio, e eu xa non volvín ter medo.
I never wanted to do any of this. I was never overly political, and I never planned to run for office. I wanted to be a mom and a wife. But by fate and the will of my people, I was elevated to this position. And I accept this with a sense of duty and pride. I will not give up. And I will show up for people, because they show up for me. Our courage is born from unity. Our solidarity is our strength.
Nunca quixen nada disto. Nunca fora demasiado política, e nunca proxectara presentarme coma candidata de nada. Quería ser unha nai e unha esposa. Pero polo destino e a vontade do meu pobo, fun erguida ata este posto. E acéptoo con sentido do deber e orgullo. Non me renderei. E darei a cara pola miña xente, porque eles deron a cara por min. A nosa coraxe nace da nosa unidade. A nosa solidaridade é a nosa forza.
I also now understand that being fearless is a commitment. It is a decision you make every single day. It is a responsibility you take -- responsibility for one another. In this regard, I'm no different from my fellow Belarusians. Their support is tangible. Their solidarity grows in progression. When there are two of you, you are daring. When you're 100, you are brave. When there are thousands of you, you are fearless. And once you are tens of thousands, you become invincible.
Agora comprendo que non ter medo é tamén un compromiso. Unha decisión que tomas tódolos días. É unha responsabilidade que aceptas, unha responsabilidade contigo mesma e cos demais. Tendo isto en conta, non son diferente das miñas compatriotas belarusas. O seu apoio é tanxíbel. A súa solidaridade medra de forma exponencial. Cando sodes dous, atréveste. Cando sodes 100, es valente. Cando sodes milleiros, non tes medo. E unha vez sodes decenas de miles, facédevos invencíbeis.
Thank you.
Grazas.