> NY Times Magazine, Dec. 17, 2000 > Back in the U.S.S.R. > > Belarus is convinced that it has the answer to post-Soviet turmoil -- > Brezhnev-era Communism. > > By MATTHEW BRZEZINSKI > > Dr. Lev Demenuk was not always a Communist. He never believed the old > propaganda about the evils of capitalism. Not until he experienced it for > himself. > > "I cheered when Yeltsin stood on that tank and the Soviet Union fell > apart," the tall, bearded physician tells me while we wait for a bus after > the gala. "And I certainly didn't think I'd ever be celebrating Revolution > Day again." > > The rain has stopped, and the streets are slick and empty. Minsk is very > dark at night, with only the occasional streetlight or splash of neon to > pierce the gloom. But the city feels perfectly safe -- one advantage of > life in a police state. > > "We also used to have Chechen gangsters, and shootouts and robberies -- all > the things they have in Russia," recalls Demenuk. "It was terrible. People > were frightened to leave their homes." > > The bus arrives. It is crammed and steamy and, by the look of it, has been > in service since the days of Brezhnev. Fortunately, Demenuk's building is > only a few stops away. He lives in a Stalinist high-rise, virtually > indistinguishable from the thousands of drafty, precast concrete structures > Soviet architects slapped together after the Nazis razed Minsk to the ground. > > We continue our conversation in Demenuk's tidy fifth-floor apartment, over > Armenian cognac and sliced pears. "We had every kind of shortage. There > were work stoppages and equipment failures. Our wages were wiped out by > hyperinflation. You couldn't even buy a roast with your monthly pay." > > Demenuk talks about the polyclinic at the Minsk Automobile Factory, where > he works as one of 60 doctors and dentists caring for its 29,000 employees. > "The plant was on the verge of closing. Production had dropped tenfold. At > the clinic, we were reusing hypodermic needles. We had no medications for > the workers. It was like the war." > > Things got so bad that Demenuk thought about returning to Russia, where he > was born and reared before attending medical school in Minsk. But Russia > was in even worse shape. He even considered emigrating. "My sister had > moved to Boston. I went to the States, too -- worked under the table doing > manual labor in Detroit for a while," he says. > > Demenuk liked America, even with the language barrier. But in the United > States, he couldn't practice medicine. "I didn't want to end up as a taxi > driver with a medical degree." > > There was some encouraging news from home, however. In the summer of 1994, > a political unknown stormed onto the scene in Minsk. Aleksandr Lukashenko > was charismatic and rugged, an avid athlete with a manly mustache and broad > shoulders. At 39, Lukashenko was the same age as Demenuk, and many of the > things he said struck a chord with Belarussians who longed for a strong > leader, someone who would restore some sense and pride to their existence. > He pledged to chase away the bandits and corrupt officials who were ruining > the country, which in Soviet times had enjoyed one of the highest standards > of living of all the republics. > > Lukashenko swept into office as a savior. "He was our de Gaulle," Demenuk > says dreamily. > > Lukashenko quickly set about bridling the free press; its pesky criticism, > he said, impeded his ability to make needed changes quickly. Next he turned > his attention to the country's shadowy league of big bankers, the > "parasites" who had looted the country through dubious privatization schemes. > > In renationalizing Belarus's banking sector, Lukashenko claimed he was > simply returning stolen state property to the people. And the people > cheered. Ivan Osintvev, for instance, a pensioner, had little sympathy for > BMW-driving bankers. "I had my life savings in a bank that was privatized," > recalls the decorated World War II veteran, who as a young Soviet soldier > was shot in the leg just outside Cracow when the Red Army liberated > Auschwitz. "The new owners closed the bank and ran off with my money," > about $2,000, he says. "The capitalists stole all my money. The president > simply gave it back to me." > > Full article at: > http://www.nytimes.com/library/magazine/home/20001217mag-belarus.html
