He was warmly welcomed by Belarus’ authoritarian leader, Alexander Lukashenko, as Ivan Tertel, head of the country's KGB security service, took a prominent seat at the table.
Coale reciprocated with symbolic gestures, presenting Lukashenko with cufflinks emblazoned with the White House seal.
Behind the nearly five-hour meeting, however, lay a deal. Washington and Minsk agreed to another round of transactional diplomacy: Lukashenko would release political prisoners in exchange for legitimacy—and, for the first time, the easing of U.S. sanctions.
Minsk freed 52 prisoners, among them opposition figure Mikalai Statkevich, who refused exile in Lithuania, and Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty journalist Ihar Losik.
Several foreigners, including three Poles, were also released.
In return, Coale announced that Trump had personally lifted U.S. sanctions on Belarusian state airline Belavia, effective immediately, and promised progress toward fully normalizing diplomatic ties, including reopening the American embassy in Minsk with an ambassador in place.
This was not Coale’s first foray. In June, he accompanied retired Gen. Keith Kellogg to Minsk for similar talks that resulted in the release of 16 prisoners, including Siarhei Tsikhanouski, husband of exiled opposition leader Sviatlana Tsikhanouskaya.
That encounter earned Lukashenko the prestige of a handshake with a senior U.S. official and, weeks later, a direct phone call from Trump, who addressed him as the "esteemed president of Belarus."
The Belavia sanctions relief has tangible implications. The airline will now be able to service its Boeing and Embraer fleet with U.S.-made parts, enabling more flights to Iran, Libya and Pakistan—countries with which Minsk is quietly expanding military and commercial ties.
Against this backdrop, hopes in Poland, Lithuania and Latvia that the migrant pressure on their borders might ease appear misplaced.
Lukashenko's strategy is clear: keep trading prisoners for Western concessions, while angling for the ultimate prize—direct recognition by Trump, ideally in a summit setting in Minsk, perhaps even during a future Trump-Putin meeting.
People wait for prisoners released from Belarus in front of the US embassy in Vilnius on Thursday, Sept. 11, 2025. Photo: PAP/Valdemar Doveiko
Economically, his chief aim is the lifting of U.S. sanctions on Belarusian potash exports, once the regime’s flagship revenue source.
If Washington relents, Lithuania will come under pressure to reopen its Klaipeda port to Belarusian cargo, restoring a lifeline for Minsk’s finances.
By drawing Trump into transactional bargaining over political prisoners, Lukashenko is advancing a core Russian objective: sowing division within the West.
Already, the budding U.S.-Belarus dialogue aligns with Hungarian Foreign Minister Péter Szijjártó’s frequent visits to Minsk and Slovakia’s recent restoration of ambassadorial ties—all in sharp contrast with the hard line from Warsaw and Vilnius.
For Poland and Lithuania, the Zapad-2025 military drills and Belarus' weaponization of migration are existential threats, not bargaining chips.
Moscow, notably, has remained silent. But it hardly needs to respond. The Kremlin can sit back and watch as Lukashenko exploits Trump's pragmatism to deepen fissures within NATO and the European Union.
Tadeusz Iwański
Tadeusz Iwański
The author is head of the Belarus, Ukraine and Moldova department at the Warsaw-based Centre for Eastern Studies (OSW). From 2006 to 2011, he worked at Polskie Radio dla Zagranicy, the Polish public broadcaster's international service.