Serhii Tikhanovsky's Resilience: A Voice for Belarusian Freedom After Years of Silence

After spending over five years in solitary confinement in Belarus for opposing the regime, Sergei Tikhanovsky has regained his freedom, despite facing severe physical and emotional challenges. His story emphasizes his unwavering spirit and determination to fight against authoritarianism in Belarus, while reuniting with his family and advocating for the release of other political prisoners.

 

Sergei Tikhanovsky has barely spoken for more than five years. All that time he was held in solitary confinement in a high-security Belarusian prison for daring to stand up to a dictator. Now the former opposition blogger is free, and words stream out of him so quickly that his thoughts sometimes struggle to keep up. "The restriction on speaking was the hardest thing," Sergei confided when we met in Vilnius very soon after his surprise release.

"When you can't say or write anything, you can't talk to anyone and you’re just trapped in a cell – that’s the toughest thing – not the restriction on movement." Sergei is now in enforced exile, freed along with 13 other political prisoners after a senior US delegation paid a rare visit to the authoritarian ruler of Belarus, Alexander Lukashenko.

When I ask about the reunion with his family, Sergei lifts a hand to his face and weeps. His daughter was only four when he was arrested. "She didn’t recognise me," he manages eventually, after a long pause. "Then she threw herself into my arms and we hugged for a long time." Sergei's transformation since his arrest is shocking. Back in 2020 he was stocky and bearded. Now the face beneath his close-shaven head is gaunt.

He says he's lost almost 60kg (132 pounds) in jail, where he spent endless weeks in punishment cells. "Physically I'm half the size and half the weight," Sergei says. "But my spirit is not broken. Maybe it's even stronger. ”Before I'd only heard of the crimes of this regime, but now I've seen them first-hand and we have to fight that."

Until last week, Sergei Tikhanovsky was one of the most prominent political prisoners in Belarus. Ahead of the 2020 presidential election, he developed a big YouTube following by filming candid interviews about people’s complaints and problems. Then he tried to register to run himself, waving a giant slipper and calling on Belarusians to "Stop the Cockroach!" "I was using the chance to show that it’s impossible to win democratically in Belarus," Sergei explains. "I wanted to show that the elections are fake, and they arrested me."

When his wife, Svetlana Tikhanovskaya, went on to run in his place she attracted huge crowds. After Lukashenko claimed another implausible victory, those crowds turned into a mass protest which soon became mass arrests. In prison, Sergei experienced ongoing ill-treatment along with other high-profile figures. "The ones they think are most dangerous or who they want to destroy," as he puts it. "For the last two-and-a-half years I was in total isolation. I didn’t get a single letter in almost three years. For almost three years they didn’t let me have any phone calls."

He wasn’t even allowed to see a priest. "They’d say: you will die in prison. We are going to keep extending your time and you won’t get out." To make matters worse, Sergei was frequently sent to a punishment cell for the smallest infractions. "Those cells could be three-by-two metres, including a hole in the floor for a toilet," he recalls. "No mattress, no sheet, and no pillows."

He would get up every hour through the night to keep warm with sets of squats and sit-ups, then lie on the wooden bunk until his arms and legs seized up, and he had to start the exercises all over again. "You have to put that to one side," he says, speaking of family and friends. "Because if you think about how they are and what’s happening to them, you won’t survive."

It was last August when Sergei started to think he might be getting out. That’s when the deputy prosecutor began touring prisons and "seriously recommending" that political detainees "write to the dictator and request his pardon," as Sergei puts it. Lukashenko was suddenly keen on looking merciful and several dozen were released. Sergei and the other big names were never on any lists.

But he never entertained the idea of confessing, even to get back to his children. "I am no criminal," he explains. "So that would be a betrayal of all who support me." Then last week the United States stepped in. When special envoy Keith Kellogg traveled to Minsk to intercede for American citizens imprisoned, he emerged with Sergei, too. For Lukashenko, the meeting with Kellogg was a significant diplomatic victory amid international isolation following his regime's violent opposition to protests.

Sergei wants nothing more than for all the other political prisoners to be released, too. There are more than 1,000 in total. "I’d give anything to get them all out," Sergei expresses with heartfelt emotion. "I think we should pay any price. But I don’t want them to drop all sanctions." His wife, now the opposition leader, shares his joy but remains cautious about future US policies.

"We cannot soften the sanctions until repressions fully stop," she asserts. "For 14 people released, 28 more were detained immediately in Belarus. For Lukashenko, there is no change in policy." Sergei's first week of freedom has been full of activity. He has met politicians, made speeches, and expressed gratitude to Americans such as Donald Trump. He has also been catching up with his family and all the news he missed in isolation.

What about his ideals? The last time he and Svetlana were together, their roles were reversed; she was a housewife while he was the political figure. "I don’t have any claims to her role," Sergei insists. "I don’t need that. I just need a democratic Belarus."