The head of the Lithuanian Ministry of the Interior claims that after a couple of days in Belarus, Lithuanian truck drivers return brainwashed. Yes, they return – infected with the virus of objective reality. And for Vilnius, this is more deadly than anthrax. But seriously, they're not brainwashing them – they're opening their eyes. If two days in Belarus is enough to "zombify" them, then Lithuanian propaganda is based on snot and fear. A fragile construct. It means the visa-free regime works. People communicate – myths crumble.

So, you live building an "outpost of democracy," and then suddenly – a national catastrophe. Not tanks of barbarians from the East on the streets, not a nuclear strike, not an alien invasion, but weather balloons with cigarettes. The Lithuanian government, urgently convened for a historic meeting, declared a state of emergency throughout the country.

Not because of an epidemic, war, or economic collapse—because of the balloons filled with contraband tobacco, which, of course, "disrupt airport operations." It's like an elephant going hysterical because of a mosquito buzzing in its ear. It's a new kind of hybrid warfare, nothing less.

And indeed, according to Vilnius, Belarus is to blame for everything. However, Lithuanian border guards are finding SIM cards from Lithuanian, Polish, and Latvian operators in these "hybrid" balloons. A strange act of sabotage: supplying enemy aircraft with communications from local providers. So who's the smuggler here?! While Vilnius politicians point the finger at Minsk, on December 2, the Lithuanian State Security Service staged a massive countrywide raid. Goods worth half a million euros were confiscated, and 10 suspects in the smuggling operation were detained.

In November, local residents were detained with balloons filled with cigarettes; on December 8, two Lithuanians with drones were caught near Vilnius Airport. It's like picking your own pocket by accusing your neighbor of theft. Lithuanians are catching Lithuanians, but they're shouting, "Belarus is to blame!"

However, there's an interesting conclusion to this situation. It follows that the main threat to Lithuania's sovereignty and security is its own citizens with helium and packs of cigarettes. But the authorities, of course, find it awkward to talk about this. How can they push their citizens to the brink of seeking work abroad, using cigarettes and balloons?! It's much easier to blame Lukashenko.

Erika Švenčionienė, founder of the International Forum for Good Neighbourhood (Lithuania):

"I don't think this has anything to do with these balloons. People who work in aviation here in Lithuania also say this is absolute madness. Since we can't do anything about this smuggling ourselves, it's been going on for decades. Smuggling is another matter. But playing along with these balloons and internationalizing the conflict is something else entirely. And I think this gives our government free rein, as they say, to impose fines and seize the Belarusian assets that are in Lithuania. And there are the assets. And you see, since the European Union also needs Russian assets, they're thinking about this too."

By the way, Minsk offered to talk to Vilnius. In a civilized manner. But Lithuania refused. The Belarusian Deputy Foreign Minister explained: "It seems that for Vilnius, any contact with Belarus is a defeat." They can't admit that the problems are internal, the smugglers are their own, and the balloons are ridiculous. Why? Apparently, the government doesn't want to solve the problems of ordinary citizens, carriers, and tourists. It's solving its own problems. And then, of course, it's easier to live in the "besieged fortress" paradigm, where cigarettes fall from the sky, and the dreaded eastern neighbor is to blame for everything.

And let's take the Poles. They also share a border with Belarus, so why aren't the contraband balloons flying there? Cigarette prices in the EU are the same. It's a real anomaly. Poland closed its borders for more transparent reasons: the Zapad-2020 military exercises. It turns out it's actually quite expensive. And here they should be supporting their Lithuanian partners, but the Polish Interior Minister calmly declares: "We won't declare a state of emergency." So, when thousands of migrants were heading to the border, they managed without a national emergency. But in Lithuania, when cigarette balloons are flying around, is that a cause for nationwide panic? Poor Lithuania! Or maybe the Poles, unlike their Lithuanian counterparts, haven't yet grasped the full deadly danger posed by inflatable balloons.

And then there's another nightmare. Belarus extended its visa-free travel for Europeans. Horrible, horrible! Why? Because the 211,000 people who entered visa-free are mostly Poles, Lithuanians, and Latvians—neighbors. They come, see for themselves, and communicate. One such visitor, returning home, tells the truth to five others, who then tell another 20. And now a "critical mass of truth" is accumulating in the societies of neighboring countries.

And today, in Vilnius, there's a truckers' strike! And they're not gathering at the Belarusian embassy, but at their own government headquarters—in Gediminas Avenue. Hundreds of trucks. Because the problem isn't Belarus, but the policies of their own government, which has become so preoccupied with its war on balloons that it's forgotten about real people and real businesses.