As the international refugee crisis was wobbling past its tipping point in late 2021, a small patch of no-man’s-land between two Eastern European nations was turning into a hot spot . Migrants who were fleeing turmoil in the Middle East and parts of Africa had been told that they could find a way into Europe via Belarus. The rumors were that the country’s president, Aleksandr G.
Lukashenko, was touting easily accessible tourist visas as a safer alternative than trying to make the arduous, dangerous journey by boat. Once there, they could cross the forested area shared by both nations and enter into Poland. It was apparently a ploy by Lukashenko, whose country was not a member of the European Union, to throw his neighboring country, which was, into chaos.
Poland’s response was to form what it dubbed “an exclusion zone,” protected by barbed wire and policed by border guards. Day after day, refugees were rounded up by Polish security forces, were often beaten and abused, and were forced to go back over the wire and into the Belarusian woods. Belarus soldiers would then round up these same people, often beating and abusing them, and make them go over the wire back into Poland.
Mortality rates were high. Trying to claim asylum only made things worse. A cry of rage and plea for compassion that blazed through the festival circuit last year — and the cause of much controversy in its country of origin — Green Border is Polish filmmaker Agnieszka Holland’s attempt to ex.