“They trade us like cattle.” Former political prisoners on pardon-by-negotiation

On 16 September, after Belarus–U.S. talks, John Coale said the United States would lift sanctions on two companies — Lakokraska and Bellesbumprom — while Belarusian authorities, as a “gesture of goodwill,” would free 25 political prisoners. The Human Rights Centre Viasna asked former prisoners how they heard news of “pardons” behind bars, what they make of dictator Aliaksandr Lukashenka’s “humanism,” and who should be released first.

The full piece is on Viasna’s site (also in Russian). The headline their interlocutors earned needs no soft language: “They trade us like cattle.”

“Goodwill” — or a price list

For Lukashenka’s regime the formula is familiar: people walk free not because the state admits wrongdoing, but because Washington gives something back. This time — sanctions relief for two entities. Those freed were again taken to Lithuania. Expectations ran higher: rights defenders and sources spoke of a possible package of about 200; what left — with deportation — was 25. Behind bars, Viasna estimates, roughly 880+ political prisoners remain.

Former political prisoners talking to Viasna describe this not as humanism, but as a market. One through-line of the interviews:

“We are a resource that can be constantly replenished in Belarus.”

The meaning is plain: free twenty-five — and jail new ones. The repression conveyor does not stop because Coale posted a photo with those released. While there is “merchandise,” there is a bargain.

How “pardons” sound behind bars

Viasna asked people who already survived the colony: what do you feel when rumours of lists, Coale’s visits and Lukashenka’s “gestures” reach the cell? The answers are without illusion. News of a pardon behind bars feels like a lottery: someone hears a name on a list; someone does not. You can wait for months without knowing the rules. The rules are written by whoever holds the keys — and trades them.

The dictator’s “humanism” in these conversations sounds like mockery. Humanism is not a selective release in exchange for sanctions relief. Humanism is stopping the arrests. While people are jailed in parallel with “pardons,” the word is emptied out.

Who should be freed first

Former prisoners speaking to Viasna insist on the obvious: priority goes to those the regime destroys fastest. The seriously ill. The elderly. People cut off from the world for years. Women with children outside. Those held as “yellows” and in punishment cells until their health collapses. Not the “convenient” faces for a diplomat’s photo — but those for whom the next month may be the last.

The 16 September deal showed the architecture again: a person is bargaining currency; a company is the price; a “gesture of goodwill” is the signboard. As long as international talks run on that logic, the regime will replenish the resource — and call it humanism.

Every release is joy. Trading in people is not. That is the line Viasna and its interlocutors draw.