It feels like Vilnius is repeating the Polish farce by closing the border. It's an attempt to extort money under the guise of defense. But now one more possible scenario of cutting off travel to the Kaliningrad region has emerged.

Lithuania has closed its border with Belarus for the fourth time in the last few days. The pretext couldn't be more ludicrous: cigarette drones and weather balloons, you see, are threatening the airspace. People are seriously fighting with balloons. Poland started with the Zapad-2025 exercises, Lithuania is upping the ante – now even balloons are flying incorrectly.

There's chaos at the border. Trucks and cars are queuing. People are sleeping in the cabins, children are crying. Not everyone has enough food and water. This isn't security; it's a form of sadism. Lithuania declares the balloons a threat, but ignores human suffering. Airports are closed, transit is at a standstill, and people are suffering.

And the National Security Committee is scheduled to decide on October 27th how long this will last. The situation as if no one understands: this isn't about balls, but a geopolitical circus. Apparently, to look respectable, according to MP Saulius Skvernelis, cargo from Belarus must be completely stopped: "Cargo traveling from Belarus through Lithuania must either be completely stopped, or even inspected on the railway for 10 days. Such actions must be taken so that we, as a state, appear respectable. Right now, we look like a powerless state." What logic!

But it's not just about balloons. A month ago, Ursula von der Leyen inspected the border. After that, Poland closed it, and now Lithuania is doing the same. President Nausėda's administration has already let it slip: they're ready to practice blocking transit to Kaliningrad. Both Lithuania and Poland are playing dangerous games. This is provoking Russia into retaliating. However, even without this, closing the border is a blow to business and transit. The Poles didn't hold out long. They're still counting the losses and deciding who will cover them.

Nikolai Mezhevich, Director of the Center for Belarusian Studies at the Institute of Europe of the Russian Academy of Sciences:

"It is impossible to completely block passage from the Republic of Belarus to the territory of the Republic of Lithuania for citizens of the Russian Federation because of the agreement signed by the European Union and the Russian Federation regarding transit between the two parts of Russia: the mainland, so to speak, and the Kaliningrad Oblast. Under international law, blocking a route, for example, between one part of the country and another, is already a trigger off a war."

Let's recall how much some of Lithuania's somersaults have cost. The refusal to transit Belarusian potash fertilizers in 2022 was a shot in the foot. The port of Klaipėda lost millions: volumes fell, workers were laid off and the budget lost profits. Belarus reoriented itself, and Lithuania is kicking itself. And what about the note against China because of the Taiwanese office?

Lithuania decided to play big politics. Beijing downgraded diplomatic relations, removed Lithuania from the customs register, and stopped imports. Lithuanian exports to China collapsed, companies suffered, and the economy suffered. For what? For the illusion of influence. This is called a strategic failure. And what about the maintenance of all sorts of offices for political crooks? A million euros a year? And now, apparently, they've done the math and are crying. They're refusing. Lithuania's budget is like that little bull in the poem - a wooden bull is walking, swinging, sighing as it goes".

So what's the bottom line? Closing the border again isn't protection from threats. It's shooting itself in the foot again. Economically, logistically, and even to the last of their reputation.

Lithuania doesn't need results or security. It needs a process. The process of begging Brussels for money while shouting about a "threat." This is a chance to take a new piece of the EU defense pie. It turns out the country can't make money any other way. While its citizens and businesses suffer losses, Vilnius is playing the role of a "frontiersman." A frontier of absurdity.