The decision rekindled hope among Belarusians that Europe has not forgotten them—or written their country off.
When European Parliament President Roberta Metsola announced on Wednesday that this year’s prize was going to Poczobut and Georgian activist Mzia Amaglobeli, Belarus’ anti-Lukashenko opposition, both at home and in exile, reacted with a mix of joy and bitterness.
Poczobut is unlikely to learn of the award anytime soon. Held in near-total isolation, he has only rare contact with the outside world.
Poland has repeatedly called for Poczobut’s release, but Minsk has ignored all appeals.
The Belarusian foreign ministry, responding to European criticism over ongoing repression, continues to insist that the country holds no political prisoners — claiming that all those jailed have committed “real crimes.”
The Belarusian foreign ministry insists there are no political prisoners in the country, claiming that all those jailed have committed “real crimes.”
In Poczobut’s case, the "crime" was calling the Soviet invasion of Poland on September 17, 1939 an act of aggression against a sovereign state and highlighting evidence that the USSR joined forces with Hitler's Germany in the early days of World War II.
After spending more than 500 days in pre-trial detention, Poczobut was sentenced in a closed trial in Grodno to eight years in prison on charges of “inciting hatred”—a label now used in Belarus for telling historical truths.
Belarusians sympathetic to Poland took to social media on Wednesday to congratulate both their Polish neighbours and themselves on the recognition of Poczobut’s courage.
Andrzej Poczobut has been imprisoned in Belarus since 2021. Photo: Artur Reszko/PAP
Many expressed hope that he would soon be freed and able to collect his award in person. Yet, as they noted, even the country’s Nobel Peace Prize laureate Ales Bialiatski remains behind bars, despite global recognition.
Still, amid years of relentless repression, the award brought a glimmer of hope. Many Belarusians said it reminded them they are not alone against dictatorship—and that the “long night” of authoritarian rule will one day end.
As one Belarusian journalist put it: “Poland didn’t give up after Solidarity was crushed under martial law. Neither should we—because without hope, there can be no victory.”
For Poczobut, Bialiatski and the more than 1,000 other political prisoners in Belarus, that hope—and faith in eventual liberation from Russian domination and a return to Europe’s family of free nations—remains a lifeline.
Jan Krzysztof Michalak in Belarus