From Minsk to Vilnius: Transnational Repression, the Case of Maksim

The European Parliament warns that modern transnational repression often appears as a chain of seemingly lawful decisions. Maksim’s story shows how this mechanism can already operate inside the European Union—gradually depriving a former Belarusian political prisoner of his safety, livelihood, and hope.
Why Contemporary Transnational Repression in Europe Is Almost Impossible to Recognize
For many years, transnational repression was associated primarily with kidnappings, assassinations, attacks on political exiles, and attempts to forcibly return them to their country of origin, where they had exercised their civil liberties. However, the European Parliament’s Resolution of 16 June 2026 draws attention to another, far less visible form of this phenomenon.
Contemporary transnational repression in the European Union often takes the form of a chain of formally independent decisions made by state authorities, law enforcement bodies, private organisations, and other actors, each of which appears lawful in itself. Viewed in isolation, such decisions may seem like ordinary administrative or procedural measures. Yet their cumulative effect can lead to the same consequences as direct political persecution: a person living in a European country is gradually deprived of safety, housing, means of subsistence, and the ability to effectively defend their rights.
It is precisely for this reason that the European Parliament calls for an assessment not of individual episodes in isolation, but of their interconnection and their overall impact on the victim.
The story of Maksim—a former Belarusian political prisoner who was released by American diplomats after nearly five years of imprisonment and forcibly expelled to Lithuania on Lukashenko’s orders—clearly demonstrates how such a grotesque mechanism can already operate in Lithuania, on the territory of the European Union.
Before the Political Persecution
Before 2020, Maksim lived an ordinary life.
He was born and raised in Hrodna, trained as an electrician, and worked in his profession for many years. He was not involved in politics, did not belong to any political party or public association, and was not a public figure. His life was no different from that of thousands of other Belarusians: work, everyday concerns, and plans for the future.
The situation changed after the 2020 presidential election.
Like hundreds of thousands of other Belarusian citizens, Maksim took part in peaceful protests. He was not an organiser of the protest movement and held no leadership role. However, under conditions of mass political repression, merely participating in peaceful demonstrations was enough for Maksim to become the target of criminal prosecution.
As a result, Maksim was convicted in a politically motivated case and spent almost five years in prison.
Five years of imprisonment is not merely time spent behind bars. During that period, a person loses far more than freedom of movement. Even if we set aside torture and ill-treatment—and all Belarusian political prisoners are subjected to torture and ill-treatment in prison—a political prisoner falls out of their profession, loses their familiar social circle, gradually loses social ties, is deprived of the ability to make independent decisions and plan for the future. The world around them continues to move on, while their own life is placed on hold and confined to a prison cell, without even the possibility of seeing their family and loved ones or receiving a letter from them.
Today, there are around one thousand officially recognised political prisoners in Belarus alone, but in reality no one knows how many people are imprisoned in Belarus on political grounds.
Yet even release does not necessarily mean a return to one’s previous life for former political prisoners. Years of imprisonment erode any sense of normality. What once seemed natural—having a job, a home of one’s own, the ability to manage one’s own time, even basic everyday skills—must be rebuilt almost from scratch.
Freedom Without the Right to Choose
In December 2025, Maksim was released from a Belarusian penal colony. His release became possible thanks to international efforts, above all with the assistance of the United States of America, and personally of Donald Trump and his Special Envoy for Belarus, John Cole.
One might think that after his release, the hardest part was already over. But Maksim’s story shows that, sometimes, this is precisely when new and difficult trials begin.
Release from a Belarusian prison did not mean that he had a choice.
He could not return to Belarus because of the real risk of renewed criminal prosecution. The possibility of relocating to Poland—a country with which he has ties through his Polish ancestry—was never discussed with him. No other alternatives were offered either. He was simply evacuated to Lithuania as though he were a piece of furniture or an object. And it was in Lithuania that he was expected to start his life over.
After nearly five years in prison, he found himself in an unfamiliar country without housing, property, savings, or his usual circle of acquaintances. He had to do more than adapt to a new life; he effectively had to learn how to live in freedom all over again.
Despite all this, Maksim, a Belarusian, did not seek special treatment and did not expect any privileges. His goal was much simpler: to find a job, support himself independently, and stop depending on humanitarian assistance from others.
Attempting to Become an Ordinary Person Again and Return to a Peaceful Life
The first months after his release in Lithuania gave every reason to hope that this was exactly what would happen.
Maksim found work in his previous profession. He is genuinely an excellent electrician, and his skills proved to be in high demand in Lithuania. Gradually, he began purchasing the tools and equipment necessary for his work. Each purchase meant far more than simply acquiring property. It was an investment in his ability to earn a living independently again, pay for housing, and live without relying on outside assistance.
After nearly five years of imprisonment, he did not try to become a public figure or a symbol of resistance. On the contrary, he wanted as quickly as possible to stop being “a former political prisoner” and return to the ordinary life that the Belarusian regime had so cruelly taken from him.
It seemed that the worst was finally behind him. He was free, he had a job, and he was gradually rebuilding his life.
It was precisely at this moment that events in Lithuania took an entirely different turn.
The First Blow
Starting a new life in Lithuania proved more difficult than Maksim had expected.
Shortly after his release, he became the victim of investment fraud. Under the pretext of a profitable investment opportunity, unknown individuals persuaded him to transfer money, after which all contact with them ceased. The total loss amounted to approximately €4,500—virtually all the savings Maksim had managed to accumulate since his release.
A criminal investigation was opened in Lithuania. However, several months later, the investigation was suspended because the law enforcement authorities were unable to identify the perpetrators. The Lithuanian police did not investigate the case with any real seriousness and treated this serious criminal offence with remarkable indifference.
For someone who had only just begun rebuilding his life, the loss was devastating. Even so, Maksim did not abandon his attempt to start over. He continued working, continued purchasing the tools necessary for his profession, and hoped that, over time, he would recover what he had lost.
It seemed that this had been the last serious hardship he would face in Lithuania.
But soon a second blow followed.
The Second Blow
On 17 July 2026, Maksim discovered that a substantial part of his work tools had disappeared. His belongings vanished from the shelter where he was living at the time. This meant that the thief could not have been a random outsider, because the shelter housed people like Maksim himself—former Belarusian political prisoners.
Among the missing items were professional power tools, measuring instruments, battery-powered equipment, a laboratory power supply, a laser level, a rotary hammer drill, polishing equipment, technical components, and other items essential for his work as an electrician. The documented value of the stolen property, confirmed by receipts and invoices, amounted to €1,868.29.
By losing these tools, Maksim was effectively deprived of the ability to continue working properly in his profession.
It soon emerged that the property had been taken by another resident of the shelter operated by the A Country to Live In Foundation—a foundation affiliated with Sviatlana Tsikhanouskaya, the 2020 presidential candidate. Ironically, it was Sviatlana Tsikhanouskaya whom Maksim had supported in 2020. It was precisely because of the events of 2020 that he became one of Belarus’s political prisoners and spent almost five years in a Belarusian prison, where he was subjected to torture.
Remarkably, the thief never denied taking the tools. However, his explanations kept changing.
At first, he claimed that the items belonged to no one and that he had “simply been passing by.” Later, he asserted that another person had given him permission to take them. It then emerged that the property had already been handed over to his father and taken to Belarus. This was followed by promises to purchase equivalent tools, then to pay financial compensation, and later to return the original items once they had been shipped back from Belarus.
None of these promises was ever fulfilled.
Maksim described all of these facts in detail in his complaint to the police. The police conducted preliminary inquiries and questioned the thief at the shelter, who admitted that he had taken Maksim’s tools.
Despite all these facts, the Lithuanian police concluded that there were no indications of a criminal offence and refused to open a criminal investigation.
When the Victim Becomes the Problem, or How the Staff of Sviatlana Tsikhanouskaya’s Foundation Took the Thief’s Side
After discovering the theft, Maksim acted exactly as any person would be expected to act in a state governed by the rule of law—which, as he believed, Lithuania was. He reported the theft to the police and asked for his stolen tools to be returned.
It was after this that events unfolded which are difficult to explain from the standpoint of common sense.
The person who admitted taking someone else’s property faced no consequences whatsoever.
The day after Maksim reported the theft to the police, employees of the A Country to Live In Foundation demanded that he leave the shelter where he had been living since his release from the Belarusian prison.
The decision was made without any written justification. Maksim repeatedly asked the foundation to explain the reasons for his eviction, provide the relevant documents, and clarify the legal basis on which the decision had been made.
As a result, Maksim found himself homeless and without any money.
On 19 July 2026, he submitted a formal written request to the foundation’s management asking them to provide the relevant documents and explanations.
To this day, he has received no reply.
Another aspect of this case is particularly troubling.
The shelter from which Maksim was evicted is financed by the International Humanitarian Fund, established to provide assistance to people who have suffered political repression in Belarus. Programmes of this kind are specifically intended to ensure that former political prisoners have safe conditions in which to rebuild their lives after release.
In Maksim’s case, exactly the opposite happened.

After reporting the theft to the police, he lost his accommodation while living in a country where he had neither family, nor property, nor a stable source of income. Within a single day, he became homeless. The staff of the A Country to Live In Foundation knew perfectly well that Maksim had no means of supporting himself at all, and that even the tools he depended on for work had been stolen. Yet this did not prevent them from putting him out onto the street, fully aware that he had nowhere to live.
The paradox of this story is impossible to ignore.
In 2020, Maksim supported Sviatlana Tsikhanouskaya and her call to participate in peaceful demonstrations and defend the lawful right to choose one’s government. For doing so, he paid with almost five years of imprisonment.
In 2026, after his release, he expected to receive support from Sviatlana Tsikhanouskaya’s foundation, which had been created precisely to help people like him. Instead, he found himself on the street immediately after attempting to defend his rights through lawful means.
After five years in a Belarusian prison, the first place where Maksim should have felt safe was the humanitarian shelter operated by the A Country to Live In Foundation, affiliated with Sviatlana Tsikhanouskaya. Instead, it was there that his last illusion of safety—and his naive belief that Sviatlana Tsikhanouskaya could be a leader for Belarusians—came to an end.
PTSD After Political Imprisonment
After everything that had happened—the setbacks, the disappointments, and the successive blows of fate—Maksim, now homeless, sought help from a psychiatrist.
On 23 July 2026, he was diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD, F43.1) and prescribed medication.
PTSD is not merely about painful memories of the past. It is a condition in which a person becomes particularly vulnerable to the loss of a sense of safety, sudden changes, uncertainty, and repeated stressful situations. This is precisely why, after their release, former political prisoners especially need stability, predictability, secure housing, and the opportunity to support themselves independently.
Maksim no longer has any of these.
Homeless, devastated, without money, without his tools, and shocked by the way he had been treated by Sviatlana Tsikhanouskaya’s A Country to Live In Foundation and by the Lithuanian police, Maksim wanted to end his life. Other former political prisoners literally brought him to us by the hand.
This Is Exactly What the European Parliament Warned About
The European Parliament’s Resolution on transnational repression proposes that situations like this should be viewed much more broadly than as isolated criminal or administrative incidents.
The European Parliament calls for an assessment not of individual decisions in isolation, but of their cumulative effect on the victim—that is, whether, taken together, they gradually isolate a person, deprive them of security, means of subsistence, and the ability to defend their rights effectively.
Maksim’s story in Lithuania demonstrates how important such an approach is. If each episode is viewed separately, one sees investment fraud, the refusal to open a criminal investigation, the unlawful eviction from the A Country to Live In shelter operated by Sviatlana Tsikhanouskaya’s foundation, and the consequences of severe psychological trauma as unrelated events. For Maksim himself, however, they became part of one continuous chain that gradually deprived him of his property, his home, his stability, and his sense of security, ultimately shattering his mental health.
It is precisely this cumulative effect that the European Parliament proposes should be regarded as one of the defining characteristics of contemporary transnational repression.
How Many More Stories Like This Exist?
Maksim’s story is only one of the known cases.
Following the events of 2020, thousands of Belarusians experienced political persecution, imprisonment, and forced exile. Many of them were released thanks to the efforts of American diplomats and began rebuilding their lives in European Union countries.
For this reason, Maksim’s story is significant not merely as a personal tragedy. It demonstrates the need for a careful examination of the situation of former Belarusian political prisoners after their release and an assessment of whether existing governmental and humanitarian mechanisms genuinely provide them with protection, as well as how the public authorities of European countries and the so-called humanitarian organisations funded with European money actually treat former political prisoners.
Maksim’s experience clearly demonstrates that such conduct is reprehensible and requires immediate change.
Photograph: A devastated Maksim sits in our office at three o’clock in the morning, afraid to leave because he fears he will not survive the night and will take his own life.
