“Detainees at Akrescina were beaten even as we arrived in the ambulance”

Doctors speak to fill silence left by health minister

18 August 2020 | Olga Rodionova, KYKY.ORG

On the evening of August 17, the acting Minister of Health Vladimir Karanik answered emotional questions from protesters and doctors who went to 39 Myasnikova Street. People asked Karanik to resign “if he had any conscience left” and blocked the passage to the official car, shouting, “Shame on you!” Whether the Minister will be able to save face remains to be seen. In the meantime, KYKY decided to meet with ordinary doctors who are facing new challenges, having barely overcome COVID-19.

Victor Logatski, an anesthesiologist and ER doctor

“When the events began and we learned of the first victims, we decided that everyone had to do their job. Paramedics worked “on the field”, directly at the protests, to help the wounded. We cooperated and, during the first days, worked in areas where there were violent clashes, when it was necessary to provide help on-site. As we are not indifferent people, we supplied bandages and antiseptics. I personally dressed the wounds of two people. Among us, there were those who went into the line of fire, amidst stun grenades and within the reach of OMON. Everything was spontaneous, and everyone did what they could. We didn’t have a single organiser or coordinator. Everyone was there voluntarily and willingly. We acted within our capabilities and did what we could.”

Kristina Babitskaya, a surgeon at the 3rd city clinical hospital

“On August 9, I was on сall (when a doctor is at home, but can be summoned to a hospital at any moment — KYKY’s note). When the peaceful demonstrations “for fair elections” started, I heard shooting; I live near the “Minsk – Hero City” Stele and I became frightened. I got a call from work; they said there may be mass admissions since we are a hospital in the city centre, and I needed to come. It was around 11 p.m., Pieramožcaŭ Avenue was crowded with people. You could see that they were unarmed and were not intoxicated. Most of the people did not chant any threatening slogans — they were simply asking for the authorities to listen to them.

On that day, there were a lot of detainees, but we did not have many admissions to the hospital. I practically stopped sleeping after that, because these events affected every one of us, especially the surgeons since they work directly on various injuries. So everything that is happening is hard for us to bear. Later on, I provided aid to people in my district who were injured, and I always carried surgical dressings and antiseptics with me. Unfortunately, they came in handy particularly in the area surrounding the stele.

Once, I came across police officers, whom I wished to tell that I am able to offer help to anyone, be it a civil servant, a special services agent, or an ordinary peaceful civilian.

It does not matter to us — we are doctors, and we stay out of politics. We have our duty and our job. It’s not our job to judge people.

Later, the volunteer groups which stood guard in the area surrounding the pre-trial detention centres on Akrescina Street and in Zhodzina began to form. We brought first aid equipment and provided aid to those who were released. There were people inside who were our relatives and our friends, who did not participate in the protests, but just went to the store and got detained. For a very long time, we were not allowed inside to provide emergency care.

People were beaten half to death there. There are, of course, people who got off lightly, but there are also those with spinal injuries, from repetitive blows from truncheons to the same place, who are now disabled as a result. What is also worrying is that not all of the people who ended up inside made it onto the list of detainees. Their relatives simply cannot find them anywhere, neither in medical institutions nor in the detention centres. People are often released without understanding what to do next and why, but volunteer assistance is very well organised there. There are people who can take them home or let them stay at their homes for a night, provide clothes and food.”

Ambulance paramedic who wishes to remain anonymous

“At five in the morning on August 12, we were called to Akrescina. The call was formal, without personal details, status “beaten”. At that time, we got lucky with the senior medical supervisor on duty at the centre. She told us to take as many people as we could and provide aid, which aligned with our aims.

We were allowed to take people to one hospital instead of several so as not to lose time after the examination. As a matter of fact, we were allowed to take only one patient. That morning, we took four men from the detention centre on Akrescina Street. When we drove through the gate, people were lying to the right of us, and riot police officers continued beating them even as we drove in. They were screaming, and half of them were kneeling face down on the floor. Some of them were standing against the wall with their arms and legs spread — and they continued to be beaten.

We were told to go left, so I thought the guards had mixed up the sides. But they began showing with their hands that we were in the wrong place, and we needed to go to another gate. There were already several people sitting there – one of them was dead drunk. I realized that these were the “passengers” the officers wanted us to “load”. But there were also elderly people with injuries. I don’t understand the principle behind this selection. The guys who were hit on the other side of the fence didn’t seem any less injured. I asked why they wouldn’t let me see them. They told me that no one was in pain there. And that I’d better keep silent and not ask any questions.

We realised that we had to take away the four people we had loaded into the car. At this moment, the paramedic brought out guys about 18 years old; they were wildly scared. Right in front of our eyes, the officers began to bully them: they threatened that they would do something to their parents, told them not to look back, that if they get caught again, they are finished. One of them started stuttering.

It was clear that the boys had done nothing — they had gone to a peaceful protest. I said: “You are preventing me from providing aid; they have serious injuries, I’ll take them to the hospital.” A man in a tracksuit started saying that they did not need aid and that he would take them back to their cell.

When I asked if he would write that he would be responsible for their lives if they died, he told me: “Yes, no problem.”

At this point, I got angry and asked: “Where did you get your medical education? Our institution doesn’t accept those who finished only nine grades.” But then I realised that if our team (two paramedics and a driver) stayed here, then I would be responsible not only for my own, but also for four other people whom I could get out of this hell, even if they got a fine.

We had to call another ambulance team (we could call for ourselves a second team from another ambulance substation to defend those 18-year-olds). I was afraid that they would be taken back to their cells and told that no one was there. We were lucky to take our four patients.

It was our last call. We were replaced by another team when we brought the patients in at 9 a.m. Colleagues who went there for a call later said that it was hard to take more people. They either let only one person go, or they could drag patients with traumatic head injuries right out of the car, say that they didn’t need help, and take them back to their cells. One team was kicked out, with the reason worded as “for sympathy” — you are helping them, so you have no right to be here.

There were situations when the [ambulance] door was opened: “You, you and you, you don’t need help, we’ve changed our minds, get out.” My friend, Maxim Solopov, a correspondent from the Meduza investigative department, was detained on the first night of the crackdown on August 9 and released for deportation [to the Russian Federation] two days later. During this time, an ambulance was called for him twice; he had a head injury, and it was difficult for him to stand on his feet. But they wouldn’t let medical workers take him to the hospital. His head was bandaged, and the doctors told him not to remove the bandages — maybe they would beat him less.

It is difficult for me to explain what motivates people to beat 16-18-year-old teenagers into such a state that we have to put these patients in a medically induced coma. Or how can they rip out a diabetic’s insulin pump — because that can lead to death. These patients, when coming round in the hospital, can’t believe they will not be taken back to the detention centre.

All of this is scary and not normal.”