When you laugh, you are free

It was an image that went around the world: In September 2020, Maria Kalesnikava tore up her passport at the Belarusian border with Ukraine. It was not a calculated act, but a spontaneous reflex. She did not want to be deported. She wanted to stay with her people. The scene unfolded in the aftermath of a presidential election widely regarded as fraudulent, which triggered the largest protests in the history of Belarus. For weeks, hundreds of thousands took to the streets against the long-time ruler Alexander Lukashenko, who has ruled the country since 1994. His regime responded with brutal force: security forces unleashed mass arrests, widespread torture, beatings, and sexual violence against peaceful protesters. In the weeks following the disputed August 2020 election, at least 37,000 people were detained according to the UN – many of them subjected to systematic ill-treatment in detention centers. 

Repression has continued unabated to this day. United Nations experts, in a February 2025 report, documented widespread and systematic human rights violations, stating that some of these acts – including arbitrary imprisonment and political persecution – amount to crimes against humanity. Thousands were tortured, isolated in punishment cells, denied medical care, and in several cases even died in custody or shortly after release. Even now, more than 1,000 political prisoners remain behind bars.

Belarus today is regarded as one of the most repressive states in Europe. Under Alexander Lukashenko, often referred to as ‘Europe’s last dictator’, democratic institutions have been systematically dismantled over decades. Freedom House classifies Belarus as ‘Not Free,’ pointing to the near-total absence of free media, independent institutions, and basic civil liberties. Even symbolic acts of dissent such as a social media post or a Telegram subscription can lead to arrest. Since the 2020 protests, the regime has intensified its crackdown even further: independent journalists, lawyers, activists, academics, and ordinary citizens have been imprisoned, exiled, or silenced. The result is a climate of fear that extends far beyond prison walls and shapes nearly every aspect of public life in Belarus today.

Maria Kalesnikava, a professional flutist and cultural manager who had lived for years in Germany, emerged in 2020 as one of the central figures of the Belarusian opposition. She initially headed the presidential campaign of banker Viktar Babaryka, then after his arrest, joined forces with Sviatlana Tsikhanouskaya and Veronika Tsepkalo. The three women formed a peaceful triumvirate that united the fragmented opposition and mobilized hundreds of thousands of Belarusians in the largest protests the country had ever seen. Kalesnikava joined the presidium of the Belarusian opposition’s Coordination Council, which had been established to facilitate a peaceful transfer of power. She later went on to found the political movement ‘Razam’ (“Together”).

Now living in exile in Germany, Maria Kalesnikava remains one of the most prominent voices of the Belarusian democratic movement. In conversation with FairPlanet, she spoke about the future of a free Belarus, democratic resilience, and the wider implications of authoritarianism for Europe’s security.

Humour as Defiance

‘I want to talk not only about what is behind me, but above all about what lies ahead. About Belarus and the security of the entire continent,’ she said in an interview with FairPlanet.

What no regime could break is her humanity and her humour. ‘The humour remained. And it even became stronger,’ she said. ‘My mind refused to accept that something like this could still exist in the 21st century. Humour was my protective reaction.’ She recalled that in her family, people laugh a lot and also make fun of themselves. ‘Because when you laugh, you are free. That is exactly what dictators want to prevent.’

Kalesnikava spent more than five years in prison, despite originally being sentenced to 11 years. She was arrested in 2020 after helping lead the mass pro-democracy protests in Belarus. Later, she was sentenced on charges widely seen as fabricated and politically motivated, including ‘undermining national security’. For over 20 months she was held in almost total isolation, frequently in punishment cells, cut off from her family, with no phone calls, letters, or regular access to lawyers. Medical care was repeatedly denied. She suffered a perforated ulcer and underwent emergency surgery after months in harsh detention conditions. Reports from relatives and human rights organisations describe freezing cells, prolonged isolation, psychological pressure, sleep deprivation, and inadequate food. Yet even after years of imprisonment, those close to her have continued to describe a woman whose spirit remained remarkably intact.

Once, she told FairPlanet, she danced in her cell. An irritated guard demanded to know whether she felt no shame. Why should she, she asked. How could a musician dance so badly, he scoffed. Then she would simply dance even more out of rhythm, she said to FairPlanet.

In that brief moment, the guard suddenly saw her as a human being, she said: ‘When someone makes a joke, they recognise the other person as a person. That was a small victory for me. I never fell into hate or aggression. I kept my normal, human way of speaking. And eventually they began to respond in a similar way. That is more important to me than revenge. In the long term, that is a real victory for the whole society.’

A Cycle of Release and Repression

Her gratitude surprises many. She even says she is grateful to Alexander Lukashenko and would “even thank the devil” if it meant people were freed. ‘For every single one of them, I say thank you - and also for those who will follow. One human life is more important than any political ambitions or ideologies.’

Since mid-2024, Belarusian authorities have released several groups of prisoners in what observers widely saw as an attempt to ease tensions with Western governments. Critics, however, described it as a revolving-door policy: some prisoners were released while others were newly detained, as repression continued unabated. Against that backdrop, Maria Kalesnikava was freed in December 2025 as part of a further wave of pardons. Following negotiations between Belarusian President Alexander Lukashenko and John Coale, the special envoy of US President Donald Trump, Belarus freed 123 political prisoners. In exchange, the United States agreed to lift certain sanctions on Belarusian potash exports, a key source of revenue for the regime. Kalesnikava was handed over to Ukraine together with many of the other released prisoners. She later travelled on to Germany, where she now lives in exile. Yet more than 1,000 political prisoners remain behind bars, according to Human Rights groups. 

After their release, many former prisoners were taken in and cared for in Ukraine despite the country itself being at war - a gesture for which Kalesnikava also thanked Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy and the people of Ukraine. 

New Relations with Belarus?

Maria Kalesnikava dreams of a free Belarus ‘where people smile again and there is room for joy.’ The 2020 protests showed the enormous creative potential of Belarusian society: posters, music, performances - a collective cultural awakening. But her eyes are firmly fixed on the future. Europe, she argues, should not rely on isolation alone but reopen channels of communication with the regime of Alexander Lukashenko – a controversial position, given the ongoing repression in Belarus and Minsk’s close alignment with Moscow, but one she sees as necessary to maintain influence and avoid further geopolitical drift. She told FairPlanet that ‘the issue is not the lack of tools, but the lack of political will and strategic thinking. It is not about recognising, normalising, or legitimising the regime. It is about thinking beyond it. And about the Belarusians and about Belarus after Lukashenko.’

On Europe's strategic position, she added ‘security guarantees for Ukraine are currently being discussed and it is obvious that Belarus is part of this context. Ukraine must be protected from any potential threat coming from Belarusian territory. Yet a paradox arises. The question of Europe’s security is increasingly being decided without Europe itself. If Belarus de facto becomes part of Russia’s sphere of influence, this changes the security balance across the entire continent. Then it is no longer just about Belarus or Ukraine, it is about Europe’s ability to act as a political subject. That is why it is important today not only to react to crises, but to shape a long-term strategy: to support Belarusian society, to maintain connections with people inside the country, and to actively prepare for the moment of transformation - by influencing the development of the region.’ 

Solidarity as Europe’s Greatest Strength

Relations between the European Union and Belarus remain almost entirely defined by sanctions. Since the violent crackdown on the 2020 protests, the EU has imposed successive rounds of restrictive measures targeting regime officials, state-owned enterprises, key economic sectors such as potash and fertilisers, as well as individuals and entities involved in repression and Belarus’s support for Russia’s war against Ukraine. In response to hybrid attacks – including the instrumentalisation of migration, airspace violations, and other hostile actions – the EU further broadened its sanctions in 2025 and 2026. 

Diplomatic contacts are minimal, and official cooperation is largely frozen. Against this backdrop of isolation, Kalesnikava’s call for limited re-engagement and strategic communication is both controversial and pragmatic: she argues that pure sanctions risk pushing Belarus even deeper into Russia’s sphere of influence, while targeted dialogue could help maintain connections with Belarusian society and prepare for a post-Lukashenko future. Maria Kalesnikava saw Europe’s strength in solidarity. ‘The EU is the result of human civilisation, the desire to help one another. When your neighbour’s misfortune becomes your own and you help, that is what matters.’ She remains a woman who thinks rationally, believes in the good in people and insists on recognising it even in her opponents. 

‘I did not just win because I was not broken, but because neither hate nor anger took root in me.’ In a polarised world, this attitude feels almost radical. And perhaps that is exactly the most unbreakable form of resistance.