Lukashenko Lost To History

• 7.08.2026, 10:12

We overcame ourselves.

All week long, Brodsky’s poem “Six Years Later” has been pounding in my temples. It begins with the lines: “We’ve lived together so long that January 2nd has fallen on a Tuesday once again.” And we’ve lived so long that August 9 will fall on a Sunday again.

That very Sunday when the polling stations are open and crowds gather around them. That very Sunday when the smell of city dust and hot asphalt seems more wonderful than any exquisite fragrance, because it’s the smell of freedom. That very Sunday when your blood is racing all day long, because the evening lies ahead—perhaps the most important evening of your life. That very Sunday that becomes a turning point for the entire country. That very Sunday, the likes of which will never be seen again.

It seems like those six years were endless. They encompassed everything: repression, war, the flight of hundreds of thousands of Belarusians from prison and millions of Ukrainians from the war. The concentration of events would have been enough to last for centuries. But it all fit into six years. For a prisoner, six years is an enormous stretch of time. For those on the other side of the bars, it’s just a trifle. And against the backdrop of world history—it’s nothing more than a barely perceptible breeze. Children born in 2020 haven’t even started school yet. Their first day of school is September 1. And for some, it’s not until a year from now.

Every year on August 9, everyone recalls that day in 2020 and tries to take stock. It’s like New Year’s Eve, when it suddenly becomes important for everyone to draw conclusions. And it’s better if those conclusions are optimistic: no one likes whiners or losers. It’s always nicer to read “this year I gave birth to twins and made a million euros” than “I slaved away on a construction site all year, and my residence permit was denied.” Hence the endless, rousing mantras of “we’ve already won!”

No, we haven’t won—let’s at least be honest with ourselves. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be sitting in prisons or wandering through foreign countries in search of asylum. We haven’t defeated the dictatorship, but Lukashenko has lost. It sounds paradoxical, but it’s a fact. He didn’t lose to us—he lost to history. And so far, we’ve only defeated ourselves—which, incidentally, is also very important.
Remember how Belarusian artists and musicians used to leave for Russia. Before 2020, that was the very measure of success—making it big in Russia. And most importantly, as our compatriots set out to conquer their own “Olymps,” they forgot that they were Belarusians. It seemed that this might slow their progress and create obstacles in their careers. The main thing was not to stand out. By the way, Ukrainians also went to Russia to make a name for themselves, but for them it was more of a way to earn money so they could later develop their own businesses in Ukraine and invest their Moscow earnings in Ukrainian ventures. For our compatriots, however, a career in Russia was an end in itself. And what about now? Even those who, for some strange reason, still go there always emphasize: “Just don’t get us wrong—we’re not Russians; we’re Belarusians.” Now this is a source of pride for everyone—even for those who didn’t care before.

And remember how Russian tourists used to behave in Belarus—they’d show up as if they were in their own province, and very few people would call them out on it. Now every passerby will explain in detail that people in Belarus don’t litter, that the Belarusian language isn’t just a joke with the word “Maska,” and that spouting nonsense about “one people” could get you punched in the face.

There are two varieties of national pride. Imperial pride—by default, these are the factory settings. A Russian understands that the whole world reads Dostoevsky and knows Gagarin and Tsiolkovsky. His national pride was served to him on a silver platter in the maternity ward. But a representative of an oppressed people proves every day that his people, his country, his culture, and his history are a source of pride and a basis for respect from the entire global community. Well, this national pride came to the Belarusians six years ago. That very August. Now everyone is ready to tear apart anyone who doubts the outstanding qualities of the people, their heroism, or their historical role in world history.

This is the victory of 2020—a conscious and well-deserved sense of national pride. As for everything else, we’ll still have to fight—not against ourselves, but against the dictatorship. Oh well, we’re used to it.

Irina Khalip, exclusively for Charter97.org