Who is 2022’s Tyrant of the Year?

At the end of every year, Index on Censorship launches a campaign to focus attention on human rights defenders, dissidents, artists and journalists who have been in the news headlines because their freedom of expression has been suppressed during the past twelve months. As well as this we focus on the authoritarian leaders who have been silencing their opponents.

Last year, we asked for your help in identifying 2021’s Tyrant of the Year and you responded in your thousands. The 2021 winner, way ahead of a crowded field, was Turkish president Recep Tayyip Erdogan, followed by China’s Xi Jinping and Syria’s Bashar al-Assad .

The polls are now open for the title of 2022 Tyrant of the Year and we are focusing on 12 leaders from around the globe who have done more during the past 12 months than other despots to win this dubious accolade.

Click on those in our rogues’ gallery below to find out why the Index on Censorship team believe each one should be named Tyrant of the Year and then click on the form at the bottom of those pages to cast your vote. The closing date is Monday 9 January 2023.

 

 

 

VOTING HAS NOW CLOSED. SEE WHO YOU VOTED AS TYRANT OF THE YEAR 2022 HERE.

Tyrant of the year 2022: Alyaksandr Lukashenka, Belarus

“You can usually tell the quality of a tyrant’s credentials by the number of people he has thrown in jail on spurious grounds and Europe’s last dictator, Alyanksandr Lukashenka, is no exception,” says Index associate editor Mark Frary. 

Lukashenka started his fifth term as president in August 2020, following an election that most credible observers believe was neither fair nor free.  

According to the human rights organisation Viasna, the list of political prisoners has now grown to 1,442 people. “This includes our former Index colleague Andrei Aliaksandrau and his wife Irina Zlobina, who were sentenced to 14 years and nine years respectively in early October for ‘establishing an extremist formation’,” says Frary.

It seems that even the slightest hint of opposition to Lukashenka can see you head off to the country’s infamous prisons. In November, 69-year-old teacher Ema Stsepulyonak was given a two-year sentence for supposedly insulting the Belarusian leader following a police shoot-out at a Minsk apartment that left two people dead.

Lukashenka is clearly worried by such “extremists”. His government has started a growing list of people who are considered as such and anyone appearing on it are not allowed to hold public office, teach, publish writing or participate in military service. On one day at the end of October, Lukashenka’s regime added a frankly ridiculous 625 extremists to the list. “Belarus must be so dangerous with this many extremists, right?” asks Inna Kavalionak of Politzek.me in the winter 2022 edition of Index on Censorship magazine.

“Lukashenka’s fate is closely tied with that of his friend and neighbour Vladimir Putin,” says Frary. “In the illegal war in Ukraine, Lukashenka has allowed Belarus to be used as a launchpad for Russia’s soldiers into the country’s northern flank. He has also promised that ‘Europe will tremble’ if Belarus is attacked.”

By aligning himself with Putin, Lukashenka is firmly planting himself on the wrong side of history.

14-year sentence for Andrei Aliaksandrau “a damning indictment of Lukashenka’s Belarus”

Index on Censorship and ARTICLE 19 are appalled by the prison sentences given to the current and former staff members of BelaPAN, including our former colleague, Andrei Aliaksandrau and his wife, Irina Zlobina. The ongoing clampdown on civic space in Belarus, including a near total restriction on independent media, is an attack on democracy and fundamental human rights. The extent of this attack on free expression is exemplified by this decision.

Andrei and Irina were detained on 12 January 2021 – over 620 days ago – and initially charged with the “organisation and preparation of actions, grossly violating public order, or active participation in them, as well as funding and other material support for such activities.” Subsequently, Andrei and Irina were also charged with “high treason”. On 6 October 2022, the Minsk Regional Court sentenced Andrei to 14 years in prison, with Irina sentenced to 9 years. Also sentenced were two of Andrei’s colleagues, including the current editor-in-chief of BelaPAN, Irina Leushina and the former director, Dzmitry Navazhylau. In addition, Aliaksandrau, Leushina and Navazhylau were sentenced for the “establishment of an extremist formation”. According to Viasna, they are also prohibited from holding certain positions for five years. 

Index on Censorship and ARTICLE 19 have always assessed the charges against them to be baseless and politically motivated. Nothing about this sentence changes that fact. In fact, the manner by which this sentencing occurred, with the court closed to the public and only pro-regime journalists present, reinforces this belief. That BelaPAN has been recognised as an ‘extremist formation’, alongside a number of other independent outlets, testifies to the scale of the erosion of free expression and democracy in Belarus.

“We are devastated that our dear friend and former colleague Andrei has been sentenced by the Belarusian regime. Like his wife Irina, his only “crime” has been to steadfastly support fellow citizens defending Belarusian democracy. Yesterday’s verdict is a damning indictment of Lukashenka’s Belarus, and one of most chilling demonstrations to date of his determination to crush freedom of expression. Index will continue to expose the rank criminality of the Lukashenka regime, and to shine a constant light on Andrei, Irina and the countless others like them imprisoned and persecuted for speaking out,” said Ruth Smeeth, CEO of Index on Censorship.

“When I see a rare photo from the courtroom where Irina smiles, probably looking at her family for the first time in two years, and when I see Andrei standing so noble in front of such cruelty  – it all becomes so clear. Pure evil on one side, and – I ask myself – what will be on the other side. It depends on us. The moment we are silent is the moment when Lukashenka wins. So I’m sure that by giving support to political prisoners, by putting them in the spotlight, we win. We help them now and bring the moment of their release closer. All of them are innocent. Each and every person deserves to be released,” said Inna Kavalionak, Director of Politzek.

At the end of September 2021, Andrei wrote a letter to his friend Tania while in pre-trial detention. In it he stated: “Thanks to you, and other good people, my conscience is clear.” The same cannot be said of Lukashenka’s regime and the courts that give cover to his unrelenting attack on democracy. We reiterate our calls for Andrei and Irina, as well as all other political prisoners, to be freed without delay.

Why are the letters of political prisoners in Belarus so cheerful?

Sometimes the letters from a prisoner of the regime in Belarus are full of encouragement and nice stories. While human rights defenders and activists speak up about severe detention conditions and beatings, psychological pressure and denial of medical assistance, the picture from the prisoners’ letters seems to be rather peaceful. Their imprisonment often looks like a retreat: they write about reading books and enjoying the fresh air during walks. The sharp contrast between the detention and what they write about may be confusing at first glance. 

At this point, it is important to understand what the regime is like in Belarus. To be a political prisoner of the regime does not mean access to any prisoners’ rights or basic human rights, it does not mean respect for any rights in general. This also includes all rights to correspondence. In a country where people are detained for any oppositional political expression, down to  wearing white-red-white socks, it would be naive to expect that the regime would not establish total information control over them in jail.

In Belarusian prisons, letters pass through strict two-way censorship regimes that consist of the combination of prison’s general regulations and specific treatment of those who are there for political reasons. Words, sentences, and even pages can be withdrawn, whole letters can be returned to the sender or simply disappear if the rules are not followed. This is, however, the best case scenario. In the worst-case, a person can be sent to a punishment cell, beaten, and threatened. Sometimes in the letters, you can actually hear a voice behind a prisoner’s back dictating to them, forcing words of praise for the administration of the penal colony or coerced requests aimed at relatives to cancel any legal complaints procedures. Such conditions make it impossible for political prisoners to open up and write about the ill-treatment they receive. What is left is to stay strong.

Political prisoners in Belarus have become experts at finding neutral topics to escape the censor’s ire. What is more, they know that the truth is theirs: they are not criminals, they are heroes of new Belarus who dared to stand face to face with the regime and reclaim their rights. However, one should not be tricked by the cheerful mood. Often, it is meant to support loved ones, ironically cover the pain after the unfair treatment, and thank those who ensure they are not forgotten