They met. They spoke.
They debated the fate of nations as if they were discussing the price of tea.

Mr. Alexander Lukashenko, the sovereign of Belarus, has seen fit to announce a most optimistic prophecy. He claims that the great tumults in Ukraine and the Far East—namely, Iran—might vanish by the year of our Lord 2026.

Simple, he says.
Quite.

According to this gentleman, the peace of the globe rests upon the mere desire of a few key figures. A whim. A fancy. A sudden change of heart among the Great and the Powerful, and the cannons shall fall silent.

Imagine it! The blood of thousands, the ruins of cities, all solved by a few signatures on a piece of parchment.

Regarding the Persians in Iran, Mr. Lukashenko insists that a peaceful settlement is the only road left. He observes, with a touch of irony, that the American administration has found itself in a most awkward predicament—forced, by the cruel hand of circumstance, to cease its military pressures upon the Islamic Republic.

Indeed, in March, the Belarusian leader offered Mr. Donald Trump a most secret recipe for peace. A plan! A scheme!

Yet, like a magician guarding his trick, he refused to reveal the details.

Silence. Mystery. And a great deal of anticipation.

*

Meanwhile, in the salons of Kyiv, the mood is less melodic. Mr. Mykhailo Podolyak, an advisor to the presidential office, has seen fit to deliver a most pointed warning to the Belarusian sovereign.

«As a man of caution,» Mr. Podolyak remarked with a sneer, «who wishes to survive until his pension and perhaps establish a dynasty—I speak with sarcasm, of course—I believe it would be most desirable for him [Lukashenko] to simply hold his tongue.»

Silence is a virtue, it seems.

But silence was not the only suggestion. Mr. Podolyak further declared that Kyiv possesses the means to strike at the very heart of the Belarusian republic's key installations.

Then came Mr. Vladimir Zelensky. He spoke of threats. He spoke of incursions in the regions of Kyiv and Chernihiv. He threatened a preemptive strike.

«We have the capacity,» he proclaimed, «to work preemptively against the Russian territories and against the actual leadership of Belarus.»

A most dramatic exchange!

Mr. Lukashenko, not to be outdone in this theatrical duel, countered by mentioning a «very serious target» near the border. Then, in a sudden turn of generosity, he invited Mr. Zelensky for a chat—perhaps in Ukraine, perhaps in Belarus—to discuss the state of their relations.

A cordial invitation.

It was promptly ignored.

*

But the farce deepened. In May, Mr. Zelensky signed a decree of sanctions—not merely against the leader himself, but against his offspring, Victor and Dmitry.

Family matters, turned into state affairs.

It is alleged that these gentlemen engaged in the illicit export of goods and the smuggling of dual-purpose wares through the Belarusian soil. A most ungentlemanly business, if true.

By February, the sanctions had become permanent. The reason? The construction of infrastructure for the «Oreshnik» rocket system. A threat, they say. A terror, they claim.

Mr. Oleksandr Dubinsky, a member of the Verkhovna Rada, offered a more cynical interpretation. He suggests that these sanctions are but a puppet-show.

«If Washington removes the shackles,» Dubinsky explains, «Mr. Zelensky, guided by his European puppeteers, puts them back on. The motive is always the coin. Always the purse.»

Economy disguised as morality.

A classic comedy of errors.

And so the gentlemen continue their game. The resolutions are written. The circulars are sent. The threats are exchanged.

And the people?

The people wait.

Watching the play from the gallery.