Ukraine
Oleksandra Matviichuk is a Ukrainian human-rights lawyer and head of the Center for Civil Liberties, which won the 2022 Nobel Peace Prize. She spoke on February 13 at an international symposium on security in Europe and moral responsibility during war, as part of the Munich Security Conference. Excerpts follow:
Freedom and peace are inextricably linked. States that grossly violate human rights, killing journalists, jailing activists, dispersing peaceful demonstrations — such states pose threats not only to their own citizens but to peace and security in general.
That is why, when politicians make their political decisions only based on economic benefits, security issues, or geopolitical interests, negating human rights and freedom, even if they benefit in the short term, we are all awaiting a catastrophe in the long term. Russia is a vivid example.
For decades, Russia has liquidated its own civil society step by step. But for a long time, the civilized world turned a blind eye to this. They continued to shake Putin’s hand, build pipelines, and do business as usual.
The world scornfully blinked even at the annexation of Crimea, which was unprecedented in postwar Europe. And now, as a human-rights lawyer, I find myself in a situation where the law doesn’t work. Russian troops are deliberately shelling residential buildings, schools, churches, museums, and hospitals. They are attacking evacuation corridors.
They are torturing people in infiltration camps. They are forcibly taking Ukrainian children to Russia. They are banning the Ukrainian language and culture. They are abducting, robbing, raping, and killing civilians in the occupied territories. And the entire UN system of peace and security can’t stop this. This war turns people into numbers. . . .
I have a question. How we, people who live in the twenty-first century, will defend human beings, their lives, their freedom, and their human dignity? Can we rely on the law, or does just brutal force matter?
The answer to this question is important not just only for people in Ukraine, and not only for people in Iran, in Sudan, in Nicaragua or Venezuela — the answer to this question will define our common future, because we are losing freedom in the world. . . .
The problem is not only in the fact that, in authoritarian countries, the space for freedom is shrinking to the size of a prison cell. The problem is that, even in developed democracies, people start to put into question the Universal Declaration of Human Rights. . . .
And this Russian war of aggression against Ukraine, it’s also a huge sign that the world order collapsed. Because this is not just a war between two states; this is a war between two systems: authoritarianism and democracy.
And with this war, Putin attempts to convince the entire world that freedom, democracy, human rights are fake values, because they couldn’t protect anyone during the war. Putin attempts to convince that a country with a strong military potential and nuclear weapons can break international order, can dictate its rules to the entire international community, and even forcibly change internationally recognized borders. And if Putin succeeds, it will encourage other authoritarian leaders in different parts of the globe to do the same. . . .
We are dealing with a formation of an entire authoritarian block. I live in Kyiv, and my native city just today was hit by Russian rockets and also Iranian drones. China helps Russia to avoid sanctions and to import technologies critical to war fear. North Korea sent to Russia more than a million artillery shells and deployed their troops to Russia. In Syria before the Assad regime had fallen, it always voted for Russia in the UN General Assembly.
All these regimes, they have something in common. All these regimes, which captured power in their own countries, have the same idea of what a human being is. They see people as objects of control. They deny them their rights and freedoms.
Democracies . . . see people — their rights and freedoms — to be the highest value. . . . The existence of the free world always provides a threat for dictatorship — that they will lose their power. And that is why for Russia and for its authoritarian alliance, Ukraine is not just a goal. Ukraine is a tool . . . to break this international order and replace it with their own agenda. . . .
The past century brought two devastating wars, colonial wars, a lot of death and destruction, and the total dehumanization of humankind, which reached its concrete form in the Holocaust and Nazi concentration camps. Everything was changed after this period, because the UN system was created, international agreements were signed, and the responsibility for what had been perpetrated was codified in a slogan: “Never again.”
But while the Nuremberg trials tried Nazi criminals, the Soviet gulag was never condemned or punished. . . . Every year [in Russia] people celebrate the end of the Second World War with the slogan “We can repeat.” Unpunished evil grows. Russians repeat this horror again and again. Russian troops committed horrible crimes in Chechnya, in Moldova, in Georgia, in Mali, in Libya, in Syria, in other countries of the world. They have never been punished! They believe they can do whatever they want. . . .
The problem is that we still look [at] the world through the lens of the Nuremberg trials when Nazi criminals were tried only after the Nazi regime had collapsed. But we are living in a new century. We must move further. Justice shouldn’t be dependent on how and when the war will end. We have to create a special tribunal on aggression and hold Putin and the top political leadership and high military command of the Russian State accountable. Because if we want to prevent wars in the future, we have to punish the states and the leaders who start such wars. . . .
I’ve documented war crimes for eleven years. I know that people who live in occupation, they live in a gray zone. They have no tools to defend their rights, their freedom, their property, their lives, their children, their beloved ones. Russian occupation is not just changing one state flag to another. Russian occupation means enforced disappearances, torture, rape, denial of your own identity, religious persecution, forceable adoption of your own children, filtration camps, and mass graves. . . .
We can’t leave our people alone for torture and death under Russian occupation. It’s our families, it’s our relatives, it’s our neighbors, it’s our people. We have a moral right to do it. . . .
I know that when you can’t rely on legal instruments, when you can’t rely on international treaties like the Budapest Memorandum, when you can’t rely on the UN system of peace and security, you still can always rely on people. We get used to thinking in categories of states and interstate organizations, but ordinary people have a much greater impact than they can even imagine. Ordinary people can change the history.
I would never wish anyone to go through our experience, because war probably is one of the most horrible things that can happen in a human life. But this traumatic time provides us an opportunity to express the best in us, to be courageous, to fight for freedom, to take a burden of responsibility, to make difficult but right choices, and to help each other. . . .
Hope is not a confidence that everything will be fine, but hope is a deep understanding that all our efforts have a huge meaning. . . . It’s so important to know that we are not alone, fighting with such enormous opposing power.
Thank you from the bottom of my heart.
Iran
The death of 22-year-old Mahsa Amini in the custody of the “morality police” in September 2022 sparked a months-long national uprising against the nation’s gender-based discrimination and oppression. Authorities answered the protests with a violent crackdown, including disproportionate force, unlawful detentions and trials, torture, executions, and continued harassment. In a new international anthology, edited by Bänoo Zan and Cy Strom and published by Guernica Editions on April 1, poets from four continents write about the pain and hope that the protest evoked. Excerpts from Nilofar Shidmehr’s poem “Say Her Name: Mahsa Jina Amini” appear below:
Speak it boldly, let it resound
with such force that the stagnant
air is stirred, compelling veils to fall away,
and women’s locks to cascade freely,
draping over their shoulders as they unite
in town squares, dancing around
bonfires, igniting the flames of liberty
by burning their hijabs.
Say Her Name:
Declare it loudly, louder than the politicians’ lengthy
speeches, with a pitch higher than
their grand podiums; proclaim her name above
the watchtowers of prisons, and more confidently
than the authoritarian commands
of pressure groups, riot police, Basijis, informants,
and with greater intensity than the volley of gunfire;
shout her name louder than the sniper fire from rooftops;
call her name louder than the fear sown
by the ongoing purges and the fresh
graves for protesters and dissidents.
Let her name resonate so distinctly
that it transforms into an irresistible
chant for freedom.
Say Her Name:
Repeat it so fearlessly that
the winds, with their flowing tresses, will rush
to knock on the doors of a people feigning slumber,
beckoning them to step out onto the streets;
echo her name with such fervor
that her memory sparks a glimmer of hope
in people’s hearts, igniting
the embers of their dream.
Like a chorus confined behind the scene,
may they emerge from the dark chambers
of isolation and embrace the blazing streets
where dancing women set fire to their veils.
Say Her Name
To the wind, akin to a traveling bard,
wandering from city to city,
village to village, playing its enticing tune
in town squares, inviting the people
to assemble once more and sing her name
with unwavering courage,
sing it with such resonant cadence
that the scattered strands of her hair gather,
intertwine, form a flag
that rises proudly in the name of
Woman Life Freedom.
Cuba
José Daniel Ferrer is a Cuban prodemocracy activist and director of the civil society organization Patriotic Union of Cuba. He has been imprisoned three separate times, most recently for his participation in 2021 antigovernment protests. On January 16, he was released from jail as part of a Vatican-brokered prisoner-release deal between the United States and Cuba, but he immediately faced threats of reimprisonment. Translated excerpts from a video he posted on social media on January 28 appear below:
This is José Daniel Ferrer García — Cuban dissident and three-time prisoner of conscience. And it could be a fourth time.
This could be my last communication with you, with my brothers in struggle, and with my friends in Cuba, the United States, the European Union, Latin America, and other parts of the world. . . . Tomorrow morning, the repressive forces of the regime might storm my home, destroy everything, and imprison me again because I refuse to comply with the conditions of remaining silent in the face of the crimes the regime is committing against the Cuban people. That is to say, I refuse to let the regime silence me. I refuse to be intimidated. I will continue fighting today, tomorrow, and always while I live, whether inside or outside of prisons, nonviolently, for freedom, democracy, respect for human rights, and for the well-being and prosperity of my nation. For reconciliation among all Cubans. . . .
The first point I want to share with those who listen to me abroad . . . it’s essential for organizations to communicate with each other. It’s necessary that they talk, exchange information, and coordinate their actions better. Only by working together will we be able to do effective work; working separately won’t make us strong.
The second point is the necessary unity in the prodemocracy opposition. We must build strong relationships without jealousy or division. Let’s truly unite with love, patriotism, intelligence, firmness, courage, and valor. We must strengthen the bonds between organizations and individuals fighting for Cuba’s freedom and democracy. Otherwise, we will never be strong enough, and the regime will continue imprisoning, torturing, killing, and making the Cuban people suffer. . . .
The third point I want to mention is my commitment, which I have spoken about many times. José Daniel Ferrer will not give up, not today, tomorrow, or ever. I may be imprisoned again tomorrow, but I will continue fighting for a free, democratic, just, and prosperous Cuba, a Cuba that is friendly with the West, with Canada, the United States, all Latin American countries that defend democracy and human rights. A Cuba allied with the European Union, the United Kingdom, Norway, and Switzerland, countries that sincerely defend democracy and human rights. I will always defend the people of Ukraine, always stand in solidarity with the president of Ukraine, Volodymyr Zelensky, and will always condemn criminal regimes like Russia’s under Vladimir Putin, Belarus, China under Xi Jinping, North Korea, Iran, Venezuela, Nicaragua, Eritrea, and any dictatorship that oppresses its people, tramples on their rights and freedoms, imprisons, tortures, and kills those who speak out for human rights. . . .
So I say goodbye with a strong embrace, in case the worst happens. If the worst doesn’t happen, then here I am, José Daniel, constantly communicating with you, fighting peacefully but firmly, and deeply committed to the Cuba [José] Martí dreamed of. . . .
I am one of those dreamers who dream of healthy worlds, where there are no dictators, where we live as brothers. I dream that there will be no war, nor lack of liberty, that there will be justice and prosperity everywhere. For this reason, José Daniel is willing to return to prison and give his life if necessary.
Belarus
Long-reigning autocrat Alyaksandr Lukashenka won a seventh term in the January 26 presidential election that opposition parties and international observers have denounced as a sham. It was the first election since the massive protests and ensuing brutal crackdown that rocked the country following the fraudulent 2020 contest. Sviatlana Tsikhanouskaya, exiled leader of the Belarusian democratic opposition, delivered this keynote address to the Community of Democracies on January 10, excerpted below:
One day Belarus will join the Community of Democracies as a free, democratic, and European country. But Belarusians, as a people, already belong here.
We are fighting for the same ideals that this Community was built upon. We are standing against autocracy, and together, we are proving that democracy is worth every sacrifice. . . .
As dictators unite, we must stand united too. As dictators learn from each other, so must we. Fighting one tyranny means fighting all of them.
Dictators hate democracy because it is resilient, inclusive, and successful. Dictators hate democracy because it is a threat to their existence. And dictators cannot be appeased, or reeducated. They must be confronted. And it’s high time for democracies to show their teeth. . . .
Change of power is the foundation of every democracy. Unfortunately, Belarusians have been deprived of this for 31 years. In two weeks, the dictator [Lukashenka] will organize another farce, called elections, which looks more like a military operation.
With no alternative candidates allowed, no campaign, no counting of votes, no observers, or monitoring. But with a lot of soldiers and police. The only question is what number the dictator will write in the final protocol.
Being here, I want to ask all your countries to reject this farce. Lukashenka is an illegitimate dictator, who seized the country, dragged Belarus into the war, and has been selling it to Russia, piece by piece. And all this takes place against the will of the Belarusian people. He must be isolated, not legitimized.
Belarusians already made their choice in 2020, rejected dictatorship, and voted for democratic forces. . . .
We believe that there will be a new window of opportunity for Belarus. We don’t know how and when it will happen, but we know this: All dictatorships crumble in the end.
Zimbabwe
Blessed Mhlanga is a broadcast journalist at the private media organization Heart and Soul TV and Radio. He was arrested and denied bail in late February on charges of transmitting messages that could incite public violence — he interviewed Blessed Geza, a political opposition figure who criticized President Emmerson Mnangagwa. Mhlanga posted this message on YouTube on February 24 just before turning himself in to police. Excerpts follow:
I am going to hand over myself, because I’m not a criminal. I’m not running away from the police. . . .
All I have ever done is practice my craft as a journalist. Blame me if there’s anyone who has ever come to our platform and asked to be heard by the nation and we have denied them. . . . That is our role as journalists: to get this nation talking to each other. I’m proud to serve as part of Heart and Soul TV and Radio . . . because the founding values of this company is to allow everybody to be heard. It’s not to segregate.
Look, when President Emmerson Dambudzo Mnangagwa was exiled in 2017, I was the one who got his statements first. I was the one who was asked to share those statements with other people, with other journalists. I gladly did it. . . . At a time when nobody wanted to talk to Christopher Mutsvangwa, Victor Matemadanda, and Douglas Mahiya, when they were speaking out against the late and ousted former president of Zimbabwe, Robert Gabriel Mugabe, I spoke to them; I wrote their stories. In the middle of the night when Victor Matemadanda was being transported from the police station . . . [I was] what was called Midnight Justice. I woke up from my bed to go to court and cover that story, not because I like Douglas Mahiya, or Christopher Mutsvangwa, or Victor Matemadanda, and not because I don’t like them, but . . . to cover all voices regardless of their views. . . .
I might not be perfect, I might not be the best, but what I know is that this job I do, I love it with all my heart. And I do it to the best of my ability. . . .
So as I hand over myself to the police, I pray for better. I pray that I will receive justice. If I violated this country’s laws, may justice be served upon me.
I thank you, Zimbabwe, for your support. . . .
Until next time. Thank you.
Georgia
Citizens have been taking to the streets almost continuously since late October against the increasing autocratization and pro-Russian stances of the ruling Georgian Dream (GD) party. Specifically, protests reject the results of the 2024 parliamentary and presidential elections as well as GD’s suspension of talks on EU accession. Police and security forces have responded with brutality, using tear gas and water cannons, beating protesters, and arresting many. Nini Gabritchidze details a day of the protests, published on February 5 in a newsletter from the nonprofit media organization Civil Georgia. Excerpts follow:
It usually happens around 9 p.m. . . . The sidewalks in front of the parliament building on Tbilisi’s Rustaveli Avenue grow restless. There is whistling, chattering, and frantic shouting as police prevent demonstrators from occupying the roadway. Groups of activists on opposite sidewalks exchange flashlight signals. . . .
Blocking the road if the turnout is not large enough would expose them to court summons and hefty fines. But for the police, the turnout is never large enough, and the length of sidewalks the protesters can squeeze onto is infinite. No matter how many show up, the cops are there to gaslight you that what you are doing is illegal. The only way is for someone to find the courage to take the initiative. . . .
Then, between 9 and 9:30 p.m., someone finally does it — steps onto the street. Others follow with noise and cameras — as if recording it will help them in GD-loyal courts (it won’t). “Go! Go! Help them!” can be heard from behind, encouraging the reluctant. Soon, Rustaveli Avenue is closed again, an act that has come to symbolize that resistance is still alive. . . .
But even as “Fire to the Oligarchy” [a protest chant] has become a common greeting with which protesters almost replaced “hellos” these days, there is growing concern that the protests still lack the fire it takes to actually burn the claws of the repressive oligarchy. . . .
On February 2, when demonstrators gathered at the Tbilisi Mall, a designated rally site at the entrance to the capital city, they were met with an unimaginable police presence. The hours of demonstration caused major traffic disruptions, and on several occasions, the highway was briefly blocked.
But the ultimate feeling left by the February 2 rally was not one of success. Some blamed it on a lack of determination, others on a lack of courage, some thought there weren’t enough protesters for such a risky undertaking, and others attributed it to a huge police mobilization. . . . Dozens have been arrested, eight of whom now face years in prison for simply standing on the highway. Part of the detainees were beaten by the police.
After the exhausting rally, around 7 p.m., a group of demonstrators began a fifteen-kilometer march from the Mall toward the parliament, in what looked like a walk of desperation, or a walk of perseverance, or a walk of contemplation. Part of them gave up after succumbing to exhaustion. Others, after walking about ten kilometers, were snatched by the police. The rest continued their six-hour walk, facing continued harassment and humiliation by police who followed them in vans and pushed them onto often nonexistent sidewalks. . . .
It was 1 a.m. when the remaining group finally reached Rustaveli Avenue. Daylight was long gone, and it was thought that the protesters who had blocked the area around the parliament that evening had gone home. But then, as they approached the center, (flash-)lights started appearing in the distance, and sounds of cheering broke the Monday morning silence. People had been waiting, and the meeting between the two groups was one of the most emotional of the past seventy days of protests.
It was probably at that moment that many of us finally realized: The sun may have gone out in Georgia, but we still have flashlights. And maybe one day we will also learn how to make a fire.
China
Du Daobin is one of China’s first online dissidents. He has been surveilled, detained multiple times, and placed under house arrest since his first conviction of “subversion of state power” in 2003. In mid-January, he lost contact with his family and was disappeared by authorities, pending new, fabricated charges against him. His nephew, Le Zailin, who now resides in the United States, wrote this open letter to Xi Jinping on January 27. Translated excerpts follow:
Dear Mr. Xi Jinping, the leader of the government and ruling party of the People’s Republic of China, and other relevant leaders:
I am Le Zailin, the nephew of Mr. Du Daobin. . . . With deep sorrow and urgent appeal, I write this open letter to earnestly request that you release my uncle, stop persecuting him, and restore his fundamental rights to freedom of speech and personal freedom that he deserves as a common citizen. Twenty-one years of oppression, 21 years of surveillance and imprisonment, the suffering he has endured is intolerable!
Mr. Du Daobin is a writer who speaks with reason and wisdom, and an intellectual who defends truth and justice. He has always expressed his views in a peaceful and rational manner, offering criticisms and suggestions about the country’s issues and policies. However, it is precisely because of these expressions, which should have been respected, that he has been convicted, imprisoned, and monitored multiple times. To this day, his life has been entirely stripped of freedom, his spirit tortured by endless oppression, and his family shattered by persecution. As his relative, I am not only deeply angered, but I also urgently appeal: Let him regain his freedom, and let his voice no longer be forcibly silenced! . . .
My heart is torn with the anguish of his suffering. I have witnessed his noble character with my own eyes, and I am deeply inspired by his courage. He has shown me through his actions that even in the face of oppression, one must defend the truth; even in the most hopeless circumstances, one must maintain hope.
However, I cannot accept, nor understand, why such a righteous person, who has justice in his heart and pursues truth, must endure such prolonged suffering. His 21 years of being deprived of freedom are a profound question about a country’s respect for human rights and the rule of law. . . .
As his relative, I urgently implore you to hear my voice. Mr. Du Daobin’s story is not just about his fate, but also about China’s future conscience and hope.
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