A young Belarusian overcomes intimidation and bureaucracy in winning funds to carry out the local environmental project of his dreams.

Victar. No spelling mistake here, just a proper name: Victar Makovchik. Victar likes his name spelt with an ‘a’—the proper way to write it in Belarusian, he emphasises. Any arguing that the name actually derives from Latin, not Russian, won’t help; it just brings an innocent, jolly smile to his face, and the inevitable: “Yes, yes, I know.”

AGAINST THE GRAIN: (clockwise from top) Minsk doesn’t typically extend red-carpet treatment to activists; TCAS funds have helped boost local efforts to improve separated waste collection; women harvesters in Brest Oblast; Makovchik is proof that persistence can pay dividends. Photo: AFP

Victar, 33, is not a nationalist of any kind, and certainly has nothing against Russian language or culture. He even won a recent essay-writing competition in Russian to study business at a Moscow university. Rather, the point he’s after is one of being different, of standing for one’s identity, of even going against the tide when necessary.

Making such a point in today’s Belarus isn’t easy, and it gets Victar into trouble every now and then. But it often brings him luck. He has recently managed to get a waste-related project off the ground, but only after having spent a year locked in a Quixote-like struggle against windmills. In January, shortly after the Orthodox Christmas, Victar organised and delivered his first environmental workshop for teachers in his home town of Beloozersk in south-western Belarus.

Photo: AFP

The workshopmarks the end of a long and difficult wait to begin working with EUR 67,000 in grant monies from the EU to help solve some pressing environmental problems in Beloozersk. Financing came from EuropeAid, as part of a funding scheme for municipalities situated at the eastern borders of the European Union. The Tacis Cities Award Scheme (TCAS) made available a total of EUR 1.6 million for environmental improvements in border municipalities of Belarus, Georgia, Moldova, Russia and Ukraine. The purpose of the scheme was to support local efforts to improve waste collection and disposal, and to deal with other urban challenges concerning air and water quality. One side benefit of these activities is that they have encouraged partnership between civil society and government officials, which is a challenging task in some of these target countries, including Belarus.

Patience and perseverance pay off

Beloozersk translates loosely in English as White Lake, but Victar’s project aims at improving the town’s solid waste management and disposal system, in addition to that of regional centre Bereza, another small town in Brest Oblast.

Back in 2005, when TCAS was announced, Victar was elected a member of the Beloozersk Local Council of Deputies while running as an independent candidate. Contrary to what many observers might think, running for and winning local office as an independent is not an impossibility in Belarus, as Victar cheerfully explains: “People know each other ‘round here, and if they know you’re good they’ll vote for you.” Running for national office as an independent isn’t as easy, he realises, having been advised by security officers after a previous attempt not to try it again—though, of course, it was “friendly” advice. In late spring 2006, a training session took place in Minsk at which TCAS consultants from the REC and Netherlands-based Royal Haskoning met with municipality representatives interested in filing EUproposals for funding. It was at this session when I first met Victar—a young man possessing a boundless and almost child-like optimism.

Photo: Pavel Antonov

Fascinated with his newly acquired knowledge of EU environmental commitments and policies, he exclaimed afterwards that his new “dream” was to get a TCAS project going in Beloozersk. The dream appeared to have come true just fourmonths later, when the proposal from the Municipality of Beloozersk and Eco Project (a Minsk-based NGO), received the only TCAS grant to be awarded in Belarus. Delirious with happiness, Victar the project architect pledged at the award ceremony that he would be leaving the Beloozersk local council following the expiration of his mandate in order to devote himself full-time to the project. “[That way] there is so much more freedom and opportunity to do a good job,” he said.

But the project work itself was not the stuff of fairy tales. The pitching of his proposal to Brussels bureaucrats was child’s play compared to the red tape he had to deal with in his home country. “It took a year to [satisfy] all the administrative requirements in Belarus before we could start activities,” Victar recalls. According to Belarusian law, any project drawing foreign funding requires approval fromtheCouncil ofMinisters. This, he explains, is to ensure that such projects are aligned with national interests and priorities. But the red tape wasn’t all. Once granted, the operating permit needed to be officially published, which took another two months. In the meantime, state-owned firm Belresurs, having originally committed to co-fund the project, withdrew, launching Victar on an urgent fundraising mission. The local municipality required another half a year of convincing to contract Victar as project manager. Fourteen long months came and went before the newly-inaugurated project manager’s dream had a chance to actually materialise.

During this time, however, the TCAS programme termexpired, and there was a real chance that the project would never happen after all. Victar’s energy and optimism began to wane, but his persistence paid off when the transfer was made just two weeks before the New Year. Victar’s project could finally get underway. “As a result [of the delays], we’re doing the workshop now, and not last year as planned,” he grins. “Our work proves that if you have an idea in the field of environment, it’s possible to find support—both within Belarus and abroad.”

Same lecture hall, new lesson plan

Victar’s workshop to raise citizen awareness of the importance of separated waste collectionwas held in one of Beloozersk’s secondary schools, and the primary participants were teachers and extracurricular educators from the two towns. The idea was to get participants involved with separate waste collection and environment protection, and in turn to involve their students. According to the project plan, what should follow the workshop is a coordinated action for local authorities and the public utility company, alongwith the purchase of collection bins.

Victar hopes that these steps will lead to the introduction of a separated waste collection and processing systemin Beloozersk and Bereza. But he has even more on his ambitious agenda. As someone who first attended school in communist-era Bulgaria, it was something like time travel for me to walk into a Belarusian school—even something of a thrilling experience. Welcoming me in the lobby were “Our Pride” posters: photos of students excelling either in sports or their studies.

The “Agitation Board” was right behind, calling on students and teachers to participate in various activities ranging anywhere fromtheatre and concert performances to—separate waste collection! The children appeared well disciplined and greeted strangers with courtesy and politeness. I noticed a schedule for sport courses on the corridor wall: times for football, tennis, rowing and more. With everything clean and neat, thewalls andwindows freshly painted, it could have been two decades ago anywhere in CEE. There was, however, one single difference: the Universal Declaration on Human Rights. Translated into Russian, the Helsinki Charter is prominently on display in the school’s lobby.

Who would dare suggest that no one cares about human rights anymore? The lecture hall is full, but on this occasion the teachers are seated behind their desks. Victar lectures on and on, thus honouring the strong post-Soviet tradition of monologue rather than discussion. Also, as part of the same tradition, participants are very reluctant to stand and speak out individually; they’d rather remain within the comfort zone of the group, and speak from their places. Slowly the talk moves beyond environmental issues. “A single soldier is still a soldier; but having a team makes a difference,” Victar says. How can a small group of people plan a project? What funding sources are available for environmental activity within Belarus?

 How easy is it to obtain foreign funding for an environmental project? The answers come one by one, based on Victar’s already extensive experience. By now Victar has piqued the group’s interest. About midday the bravest of the teachers (mostly women of various ages) stand up and present the environmental project ideas fromtheir groups. Victar approves of everything he hears.

Again, he is optimistic, fascinated, cheerful. During the afternoon a wave of enthusiasm and ideas sweeps across the room, while teachers from various schools are working in thematic groups and discussing their first environmental action projects. “I think I’ll be able to put a bit of the money from our EU budget into all these ideas,” Victar whispers between presentations. “They all fit our project goal, don’t they?” Indeed they do. According to TCAS priorities, approved by EuropeAid, the project needs to be “practical and result in a measurable improvement in the quality of life for the inhabitants of the concerned municipality.” And what could be more practical in Belarus these days than a small group of actively involved citizens who are convinced of their ability to change things for the better? “You don’t need bigmoney or expensive equipment to achieve change,” Victar concludes. “Even a single class at school can make a huge difference.” And so in turning his first workshop into amaster class of active citizenship, Victar Makovchik is supplying the kind of difference his country needs most.