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It is not hard to explain what has been going on in Belarus with political prisoners since 2020. I’ve been doing it for 48 months now.
During the last presidential election, on this day four years ago, Belarusians decided that we didn’t want to live under Lukashenka’s dictatorship anymore. Or any dictatorship. We want simple (yet complex) things – a free and democratic country, an openly and honestly elected leader, and no violence or political repression. Yet the dictator relied on his autocratic power to suffocate the protests. The protests – yes. But not the resistance.
Nevertheless, it is hard to explain what is going on when Belarusian prisons swallow your loved ones. As the wife of a political prisoner, I’ve been going through this for 51 months now.
The last time I saw my husband, Siarhei Tsikhanouski, in person was in May 2020.
The last time I spoke with him was in October 2020, when, for some unexplainable reason, Lukashenka personally let Siarhei call me. The last time we heard from Siarhei was 9 March 2023.
My husband is being held incommunicado. For my son and daughter, sending letters, postcards and drawing pictures to their father was keeping us morally afloat.
They constantly wrote him but never received any answer. Apart from Siarhei, nine people have been held in incommunicado mode for more than 500 days – including Maria Kalesnikava, Maksim Znak, Viktar Babaryka, Ihar Losik and Mikalai Statkevich.
Writing to people behind bars is a challenge. How to write something, making sure your letter will be delivered? Can you imagine how full the trash bins of the prison censors have been for one and a half years? Our loved ones cannot hear from us. But all the small people, the bricks of Lukashenka’s system, can see our support.
And that’s why we must continue more, louder and harder than ever. So many prisoners don’t receive all the correspondence or are kept isolated, but we don’t even know about that. We don’t know in what conditions our Nobel laureate Ales Bialiatski is held. Or Volha Zalatar, a mother of five children. Or journalist Andrei Aliaksandrau. Or activist Andrei Voinich, who is held in a colony while having a critical health condition.
And it’s our joint job to help. I say “our” because we Belarusians share the same values with you. We are also part of the European family. And we cannot fight the dictator and his ill-treatment of the people alone.
We can all take simple steps to show solidarity with repressed people and make it visible to all. How many trash bins do they have in prisons for all the letters and postcards? How much ink do they have to censor our words of support? Let’s not leave them any chance to keep people hidden from the world, our solidarity. Let’s bring freedom to every one of the around 1400 political prisoners in Belarus. But first – take simple steps to support them.
To send a letter you can:
– use the special form online
– use the Dissident.by form
– learn more here
For the list of political prisoners in Belarus check:
– Viasna human rights center
– Dissident.by
– Politzek.me
To read some letters from political prisoners that Index has translated and published, check out our Letters from Lukashenka’s Prisoner project here.
Andrej Strizhak, a human rights activist and Belarus exile, uses an electric scooter to go around the streets of Vilnius’s old town.
“It is a very convenient means of transportation,” he told Index, sitting in a coffee shop at The House of the Signatories where Lithuania’s Act of Independence was signed in 1918.
Strizhak is founder of the Belarus Solidarity Foundation, Bysol, a humanitarian organisation which gives financial help to political prisoners, striking workers and other activists critical of the repressive regime of President Aliaksandr Lukashenka. Recently Bysol has also focused on aid to Ukraine in its fight against the Russian invasion that Vladimir Putin launched in February 2022.
For Strizhak, both struggles are connected.
“Belarus’s ‘freedom key’ is in Ukraine, and many Belarusians are helping fight the war in Ukraine,” he said. “If Putin fails, then Lukashenka will lose his principal ally.”
His colleague, former male model, fitness trainer and media celebrity turned political activist Andrey Tkachov, joined us in the café. Tkachov like Strizhak is in his thirties. He’s an immensely tall and striking figure, dressed in black. He oversees the management of the Medical Solidarity Fund, operating under the Bysol Foundation umbrella. He sees the conflict in stark terms.
“It is a war between good and evil. Russia is knowingly bombing hospitals and we are working on getting medical supplies and equipment.”
Bysol has raised over $10.7 million and acts as a platform for other organisations or individuals to raise funds for humanitarian causes.
Most of it has been done through cryptocurrency because, as Strizhak explained, it is “hard for the government to trace these transactions.”
During the first days of the Ukrainian war, Bysol received requests for cash to buy vehicles, drones and first aid kits; funds were needed for emergency contraceptive and rape kits for Ukrainian war victims of sexual abuse and for legal fees to pursue justice for war crimes. Within a few days, Bysol raised over $130,000 for Ukrainian humanitarian causes and for Belarusian volunteers working in Ukraine.
As the war progressed, the foundation used its money to aid wounded Belarusian fighters to obtain medical assistance, move to Poland or Lithuania and heal from PTSD. Bysol handed over radios, sets of uniforms for medical doctors and anti-thermal camouflage cloaks to the Belarusians fighting in Ukraine.
They gave others help too.
For those who refused to fight or faced repression for opposing the war, Bysol staff drafted manuals on evacuation from Belarus, Russia and Ukraine. They also posted instructions in a Telegram chat group, BysolEvacuation. Users issued advice on how to leave the war zone, discussed visa procedures and shared experiences on border crossings.
Strizhak and other activists first established Bysol in August 2020, as a response to violence against the opposition after the Belarus presidential election which saw Lukashenka winning a sixth term in office. Strizhak had already been detained several times by the police for his political activities and during the election summer, friends advised him to go on “vacation” abroad. He traveled to Kyiv, hoping to spend a month in Ukraine. There, building on his humanitarian work and crowdfunding skills, Strizhak came up with the idea of a fund-raising organisation.
He was joined in Ukraine by Tkachov, with whom he had worked during the Covid-19 pandemic and who had just been released from police custody. Tkachov had stayed in Belarus and joined anti-government protests in Minsk, witnessing police using grenades and shooting at peaceful opposition.
“The day after the elections, my friend and I took a ride around Minsk to check the aftermath of the protests,” Tkachov told Index. “An OMON (special police force) car stopped us and took us to a detention centre.” Officers gave Tkachov some “special attention” for his critical political opinions. He was handcuffed and beaten.
“Some of us fainted from the pain and from the inflicted injuries. We laid in puddles of blood and urine and prayed to be alive,” he said. Eventually, he lost consciousness when a soldier stepped on his neck.
“I regained consciousness only when police brought me to the prison, and a soldier poured water on me,” he said.
Together with the other 35 detainees, he spent three days in a cell suitable to accommodate 10 people.
In the late autumn of 2020 both dissidents decided to move to Lithuania, a member state of the EU and NATO, determined to expand Bysol. “Ukraine did not feel safe enough for us,” explained Strizhak.
Strizhak first raised money through a friend in the Netherlands who opened a fundraising account on Facebook. “We couldn’t do it from Belarus or Ukraine. Only people who live in ‘the white-world’ – the USA or Western Europe – can open fundraising accounts on Facebook,” he said.
Help started pouring in and more so when they were established in Vilnius. The most active supporters of the fund were and still are the Belarusian diaspora.
Walking a thin line between publicity and safety, Bysol has come to rely on cryptocurrency. Using traditional currency, customers rely on bank services and often pay high fees for financial transactions that might take a few days to complete, but cryptocurrency is a digital currency based on a network spread across many computers, unregulated by central government authorities. Unlike traditional financial institutions, opening a cryptocurrency wallet does not require identification verification, credit, or background checks: a person needs just a laptop or a smartphone with an internet connection and there is virtually no way for the government officials to stop, censor or reverse these transactions.
People find Bysol through social media and by word of mouth and the foundation follows a rigorous verification process before providing any help.
“We can’t name recipients and they can’t say ‘Thank you’ to us,” Strizak said.
Tkachov focuses on supporting Belarusian medical professionals and medical causes.
“Medical doctors actively expressed their opposition to the government’s actions. They were the ones who saw wounded, beaten and dead protesters. They described people arriving at the hospital as if they were brought from a battlefield with gunshot wounds or limbs ripped off by grenade explosions,” he said. Many medical doctors who expressed their disagreement about the government’s actions were laid off from state-run hospitals.
The Department of Investigation Committee in Minsk has initiated criminal proceedings against Strizhak who is accused of providing “training of individuals to take part in group activities, grossly violating public order” and financing extremism. Bysol itself has been labelled an extremist organisation and Belarus has listed its founders on the country’s wanted list and the wanted list of the Commonwealth of Independent States (CIS), made up of Russia and other ex-Soviet states still in Russia’s orbit.
Tkachov said he was always interested in history, especially events leading to the outbreak of World War II. “I could not understand why the powerful states could not prevent it,” he said. “Witnessing unfolding events in Ukraine, I finally understood it. When I think about how much more needs to be done, I worry my efforts are not enough, or are not effective enough. We need to help many people.”
Since his early years, Strizhak was determined to bring change to society: “I can’t tolerate hypocrisy, lies or double standards,” he said. He travelled to the Donbas region of Ukraine from 2017 to 2020 to document war crimes committed by pro-Russian separatists. He has mourned the death of close work partners.
Although he is now far from the war zone, he visualises his efforts with a consciousness of the samurai way of “dying before going into battle.” Like Japan’s ancient warriors, he said, he is waging his humanitarian efforts fully committed and without fear.
In a rare piece of good news from Belarus, it has been revealed that the regime of Alyaksandr Lukashenka, who was re-elected as president for the sixth time in 2020 after a disputed election, has released at least 16 political prisoners on health grounds.
On 2 July, Lukashenka said, “Do not be surprised if, in a few days, very seriously ill people will be released, who did not manage to escape and are in prisons, who were breaking and destroying the country in 2020. But they are, indeed, seriously ill. Mostly with cancers.”
An amnesty was announced the following day to mark what the government called “the 80th anniversary of the liberation of Belarus from Nazi invaders”.
The Viasna Human Rights Center has reported that 16 people – 13 men and three women – have been released.
The names of most of the prisoners have not been revealed for safety reasons but they are known to include Ryhor Kastusiou.
Kastusiou, 67, has been chairman of the Belarusian Popular Front party since 2017 and was arrested on 12 April 2021, in Škloŭ, charged with “plotting against the government in order to seize state power”.
While in prison, Kastusiou has been diagnosed with cancer and critics say he has been denied proper medical treatment while behind bars.
According to Viasna, on 16 July 2023, Kastusiou told his wife in a phone call that not only had he been deprived of relatives’ visits, but also that his private records had been taken from him, including a draft of a book and mailing addresses. In November last year, he was placed in a punishment cell for six months.
The Belarusian state tries to portray such releases as a humanitarian gesture by Lukashenka to pardon critically ill political prisoners, but human rights activists say this is not true. Some of those released are believed to have served almost the full terms of their unjust politically motivated sentences.
Lukashenka has been known for his “trading skills” with Western countries for decades, with repressed people in the country not just targets for his authoritarianism but also as a currency for exchange and the lifting of sanctions.
While the news of the release has been welcomed by human rights defenders in the country and by the country’s government in exile, the fact remains there are still more than 1,400 political prisoners behind bars.
As Belarus approaches the 30th anniversary of Aliaksandr Lukashenka’s autocratic rule, repression by the regime against those who stand for democracy and freedom is not getting any less severe.
This summer marks three decades since Lukashenka’s first inauguration and four years since the Belarusian pro-democratic revolution erupted following his controversial 2020 presidential election win over political newbie Sviatlana Tsikhanouskaya. Despite the ongoing democratic movement led by Tsikhanouskaya, which keeps Belarus on the international agenda, the regime relentlessly cracks down on civil society both inside the country and in exile.
As of today, more than 1,400 political prisoners are behind bars in Belarus. During a recent visit to Washington, Tsikhanouskaya highlighted the scale of the repression by comparing these 1,400 prisoners to what would be 45,000 political prisoners in the United States. Many activists argue that support for Belarusians who flee their homeland could be stronger. Maria Rudz, co-chair of Razam, a Belarusian diaspora group in Germany, reported that out of 1,000 asylum applications from Belarusians, only 40 received positive decisions.
It is also crucial to remember that those jailed on politically motivated charges in Belarus endure inhumane treatment in prisons. Many imprisoned leaders of the pro-democratic movement are held incommunicado: Siarhei Tsikhanouski for 471 days, Maryia Kalesnikava for over 493 days, Mikalai Statkevich for 498 days, Maksim Znak for 499 days, and Viktar Babaryka for 502 days. Lukashenka is acutely aware that these leaders have inspired both Belarusians and the democratic world since the summer of 2020. Now, serving unjust sentences ranging from 10 to 18 years, they are deprived of freedom of speech and kept in silence as Lukashenka’s hostages.
Nevertheless, Belarusians inside the country and in exile have loud voices and activists continue their work from abroad. This persistence frustrates the regime, which cannot silence Tsikhanouskaya, her team, leaders of the diaspora and Belarusian NGOs. As a new tactic, the regime has begun conducting trials in absentia since 2023. On 20 June, Franak Viačorka, one of Tsikhanouskaya’s advisors, was sentenced in absentia to 20 years and fined 17,000 euro. Viačorka says that such attempts to disrupt their work are not fruitful: “It was not a trial but a farce. Lukashenka is a fraud, and his terror will not stop us from fighting for a free Belarus.”
Sadly, this has become common practice. Human rights activist Leanid Sudalenka from Viasna, who served an unjust sentence in Belarus and subsequently left the country, received another five-year sentence, in absentia. Several of his colleagues from Viasna remain behind bars, including Valiantsin Stefanovich, Marfa Rabkova and 2022 Nobel Peace Prize winner Ales Bialiatski .
The regime sometimes manages to put pressure on Belarusians even across international borders. The Serbian High Court has ruled that activist Andrei Hniot should be extradited back to Belarus due to charges brought by the regime. Hniot has filed an appeal, citing persecution by the regime. Following the court’s decision in Belgrade, Sviatlana Tsikhanouskaya immediately called for support for Hniot through an open letter.
To get an insight into the work that Tsikhanouskaya is doing, readers in London can attend the screening of the British documentary The Accidental President about 17 July at the Bertha DocHouse in The Brunswick in London’s West End. The movie, which follows Tsikhanouskaya as she is thrust onto the world stage as Belarus’s de facto head of state in exile, will be followed by a Q&A session with directors Mike Lerner and Martin Herring.