Belarus

Belarus is a landlocked country in Eastern Europe bordered by Russia to the northeast, Ukraine to the south, Poland to the west, and Lithuania and Latvia to the northwest. Its capital and most populous city is Minsk. Over 40% of its 207,600 square kilometres (80,200 sq mi) is forested. It was part of the Soviet Union until it broke up in 1991. It has been under the rule of President Alexander Lukashenko, the longest serving president in Europe, since 1994.

Quotes

 * Русское образование сильнее русского штыка.
 * Russian education is stronger than the Russian bayonet.
 * «Материалы для истории Виленского учебного округа преимущественно в Муравьёвскую эпоху», vol. 1 (St. Petersburg, 1908); see M. N. Krot, "'Russian Education is Stronger than the Russian Bayonet...": Educational Policy as an Element of the "Soft Power" Strategy in the Western Outlying Regions of the Russian Empire in the Second Half of the 19th – early 20th Centuries", Scientific Thought of Caucasus, vol. 94, no. 47 (2023), p. 59


 * 'It's Belorussian.' 'Come again?' 'Belorussia. Belorussia. Bela Rus. White Ruthenia.' 'What's that when it's there?' Stanton asked. 'That is a land of milk and honey which has never been allowed to go its way,' Ruddy Kabel explained. 'A land of plains and forests and gentle hills. ... It's east of Poland. If you want to invade Russia, as has sometimes been tried, you'll have to go through Minsk. Minsk is the capital.'
 * Thomas Keneally, A Family Madness (1985), p. 17


 * Несчастная Беларусь! Добрый, покладистый, снисходительный, романтичный народ в руках такой по́гани. И пока этот народ будет дураком, так будет всегда. Отдаёт чужакам лучших своих сынов, лучших поэтов, нарекает чужаками детей своих, пророков своих, как будто очень богат. Отдаёт своих героев на дыбу, а сам сидит в клетке над миской с бульбой да брюквой и хлопает глазами.
 * Unfortunate Belarus! A kind, complaisant, romantic people in the hands of rascals. And so it will always be while this nation allows itself to be made a fool of. It gives up its heroes to the rack and itself sits in a cage over a bowl of potatoes or turnips, looking blank, and understanding nothing. Much would I pay the man who at last shook off from his people’s neck this decaying gentry, these stupid parvenus, these conceited upstarts and corrupt journalists, and made the people become masters of their own fate. For that I would give all my blood.
 * Uladzimir Karatkevich, «Дикая охота короля Стаха» (1958), as translated by Mary Mintz, King Stakh’s Wild Hunt (1974), Ch. 4