In a country where dissent has long carried the price of years behind bars, Belarus opened its prison gates on Saturday for 123 people — among them a Nobel Peace Prize laureate, a flutist who tore up her own passport rather than accept exile, and a banker who dared to challenge a ruler of three decades. The release, negotiated through a U.S. sanctions agreement tied to Belarus' fertilizer exports, reflects the enduring calculus of authoritarian governance: liberty traded as currency, freedom measured in economic relief. Yet with more than a thousand political prisoners still detained, Saturday
Belarus Frees 123 Prisoners Including Nobel Laureate in US Sanctions Deal
More than a thousand political prisoners remain simply because they chose freedom.
So this is framed as a deal—prisoners for sanctions relief. But what exactly changed on the American side?
The U.S. lifted sanctions on Belarus' fertilizer exports. That's the vital economic piece. Fertilizer is one of the country's major exports, and those sanctions have been crushing.
Right, but the reporting doesn't say when those sanctions were imposed or how much they've cost Belarus economically. We know they matter, but we don't have the numbers.
Fair point. So Lukashenko gets economic breathing room, and the U.S. gets prisoners released. But why now? Why 123 people on this particular Saturday?
The source says Belarus has been releasing prisoners since July 2024 as part of a broader effort to ease Western pressure. This is the latest batch, and it includes the highest-profile names—the Nobel laureate, the opposition figures.
But we don't know the terms of the deal. Was there a negotiation? Did the U.S. demand specific names? Or did Lukashenko choose who to release?
And what about the thousand-plus still inside? Bialiatski says they're there because they chose freedom. What does that mean exactly?
It means they participated in the 2020 protests, or they spoke out, or they worked for independent media. The charges are almost always framed as national security threats or incitement, but observers say they're politically motivated.
The source confirms that characterization for several of the released prisoners—the charges are "widely denounced" or "widely seen as" politically driven. But we should note that's the Western and opposition view. Lukashenko's government would dispute it.
Does the release of these specific people signal anything about what comes next?
The released prisoners are already saying they'll continue their work. Bialiatski said he's their voice. Kolesnikova spoke about freedom. They're not going quiet.
But we don't know if they'll be allowed to stay in Belarus or if they'll be pressured to leave. The source doesn't say what happens to them now.
El Pulso
- A Nobel laureate emerged from 1,613 days in a penal colony described as a place of beatings and forced labor, visibly diminished but immediately vowing to speak for the more than a thousand still imprisoned.
- The release is not an act of mercy but a transaction — Washington agreed to lift sanctions on Belarus' critical fertilizer sector, giving Lukashenko economic breathing room in exchange for the prisoners.
- Among those freed are figures who have become symbols of resistance: a flutist who walked back into Belarus after tearing up her passport at the border, a banker sentenced to 14 years on charges the U.S. embassy called a cruel sham, and journalists imprisoned for covering the truth.
- The release is the latest in a series dating to July 2024, revealing a pattern in which Lukashenko strategically frees prisoners to ease Western pressure while the underlying machinery of repression remains fully intact.
- Over a thousand political prisoners remain behind bars, including the son of one of Saturday's freed men and activists from the same human rights organization whose founder just walked free — the gates opened, but only partway.
In a country where dissent has long carried the price of years behind bars, Belarus opened its prison gates on Saturday for 123 people — among them a Nobel Peace Prize laureate, a flutist who tore up her own passport rather than accept exile, and a banker who dared to challenge a ruler of three decades. The release, negotiated through a U.S. sanctions agreement tied to Belarus' fertilizer exports, reflects the enduring calculus of authoritarian governance: liberty traded as currency, freedom measured in economic relief. Yet with more than a thousand political prisoners still detained, Saturday's opening of gates illuminates as much as it obscures — a partial light cast over a still-vast darkness.
On Saturday, Belarusian authorities released 123 political prisoners, including Nobel Peace Prize laureate Ales Bialiatski, as part of a negotiated deal in which the United States agreed to lift sanctions on Belarus' fertilizer exports. For Lukashenko's government, the release is the latest in a series of calculated prisoner exchanges designed to ease the economic burden of Western sanctions accumulated over years of political repression.
Bialiatski, 63, had spent more than four years in a penal colony known for harsh conditions. He emerged visibly weakened but spoke with immediate purpose: more than a thousand political prisoners remained in Belarus, he said, and he intended to be their voice. He had founded Viasna, Belarus' most prominent human rights organization, long before his imprisonment on charges international observers widely condemned as politically motivated.
Among those freed was Maria Kolesnikova, a flutist who became one of the defining faces of the 2020 mass protests against Lukashenko. When authorities tried to deport her across the Ukrainian border, she tore up her passport and walked back — and was immediately rearrested. Sentenced to 11 years, she fell seriously ill in prison. On Saturday, she spoke of the joy of embracing loved ones, while also thinking of those still detained.
Also released was Viktar Babaryka, a banker and philanthropist who had sought to run against Lukashenko in 2020, only to be jailed before the election and later sentenced to 14 years on corruption charges the U.S. embassy called a cruel sham. Journalists were freed as well, including the editor of a major independent news site and a Polish-Belarusian correspondent who had refused to seek a presidential pardon despite years in a maximum-security facility.
The releases mark real lives returned to the world — but they also mark the boundaries of what was negotiated. More than a thousand political prisoners remain, among them the son of Viktar Babaryka and fellow Viasna activists. For those who walked free on Saturday, the work of advocacy resumes. For those still inside, the wait continues.
On Saturday, Belarusian authorities opened the prison gates for 123 people, among them Ales Bialiatski, who had won the Nobel Peace Prize while locked away awaiting trial. The release came as part of a negotiated settlement with Washington that would lift American sanctions on Belarus' fertilizer exports—a vital economic lifeline for a country that has spent decades under the authoritarian grip of President Alexander Lukashenko.
Bialiatski, 63, had spent 1,613 days inside a penal colony in Gorki, a facility known for beatings and forced labor. He emerged pale and visibly diminished but spoke with clarity and purpose. When asked about his release, he described it as stepping suddenly from ice water into a warm room. Yet his first thoughts were not for himself. More than a thousand political prisoners, he said, remained behind bars in Belarus simply because they had chosen freedom. He intended to be their voice.
The Nobel laureate had founded Viasna, Belarus' oldest and most prominent human rights organization, decades before his imprisonment. He was convicted on charges of smuggling and financing actions that violated public order—accusations that international observers and human rights groups have consistently characterized as politically motivated. Another Viasna activist, Uladzimir Labkovich, was implicated in the same case and was also freed Saturday.
Among the released was Maria Kolesnikova, 43, a professional flutist who became one of the most recognizable faces of resistance during the mass protests that convulsed Belarus in 2020. She had worked closely with opposition leader Sviatlana Tsikhanouskaya, who was forced into exile after challenging Lukashenko in that year's presidential election. Kolesnikova's defiance became legendary in September 2020 when authorities drove her to the Ukrainian border with the intention of deporting her. She tore up her passport and walked back into Belarus, where she was immediately arrested again. She was convicted in 2021 on charges including conspiracy to seize power and sentenced to 11 years. While imprisoned, she fell seriously ill and underwent surgery. On Saturday, she spoke of incredible happiness at seeing the faces of those she loved, at being able to embrace them as free people. But she too thought of those still locked away, saying she looked forward to the day when they could all embrace each other.
Viktar Babaryka, a 62-year-old banker and philanthropist, had entered politics in 2020 with the intention of running against Lukashenko. He quickly gained broad popular support but was denied registration for the race and jailed less than two months before the election. He called it medieval repression. Convicted on corruption charges widely seen as politically driven, he received a 14-year sentence in July 2021. The U.S. embassy at the time called the verdict a cruel sham, stating that Lukashenko's regime would stop at nothing to maintain power. Maxim Znak, a lawyer who worked with Babaryka's campaign and was convicted alongside him, was also released Saturday.
The release included journalists as well. Maryna Zolatava, editor of Tut.by, a popular independent news site, had been arrested in May 2021 and sentenced to 12 years on charges of incitement and distributing materials deemed to harm national security—accusations authorities routinely deploy against independent media and opposition figures. International journalism organizations, including Reporters Without Borders, had repeatedly called for her release. Andrzej Poczobut, a 52-year-old correspondent for Poland's Gazeta Wyborcza and a prominent figure in Belarus' Polish minority, was arrested in March 2021 for his coverage of the post-election protests. Convicted in February 2023 of damaging national security and inciting hatred, he received an eight-year sentence and was sent to a harsh maximum-security facility despite health concerns. He had repeatedly refused to seek Lukashenko's pardon.
The release represents the latest in a series of prisoner discharges that began in July 2024, widely understood as Lukashenko's attempt to ease the weight of Western sanctions that have burdened the country. Belarus, a nation of 9.5 million, has been repeatedly sanctioned by the West for its systematic suppression of dissent and for allowing Russia to use its territory as a staging ground for the invasion of Ukraine. Lukashenko, who has ruled for more than three decades as a close ally of Moscow, has shown willingness to trade prisoners for sanctions relief.
Yet the Saturday release, significant as it was, left more than a thousand political prisoners still behind bars. Among those remaining are Viasna activists Marfa Rabkova and Valiantsin Stefanovic, and Eduard Babaryka, the son of Viktar, who had helped manage his father's presidential campaign. For those released, the work of advocacy continues. For those still imprisoned, the wait goes on.
Citas Notables
Like I jumped out of icy water into a normal, warm room.— Ales Bialiatski, describing his release after 1,613 days in prison
More than a thousand political prisoners in Belarus remain behind bars simply because they chose freedom. And, of course, I am their voice.— Ales Bialiatski
It's a feeling of incredible happiness! To see the eyes of the people who are dear to me, to hug them, to understand that we are all free people now.— Maria Kolesnikova, upon release