To respond to the sanctions the European Union had just imposed on Belarus in reaction to the 2020 fraudulent elections and human rights abuses, and backed by his Russian ally Vladimir Putin, President Alexander Lukashenko began in the summer of 2021 to fund and organize illegal entry into the European Union of migrants from Africa and the Middle East, mainly across the border with Poland. Most of these people are stopped by the Polish border guard and returned to Belarus, only to be pushed back and forth across the fence while enduring hunger, exhaustion, and mistreatment. As is known, about 60 people have died and more than 200 have disappeared in the forest that lies between the two countries since then.
Veteran filmmaker Agnieszka Holland—lauded for her political engagement and her cinematic approaches to atrocities like the Holocaust, in titles such as Europa, Europa (1990) and In Darkness (2011), and the Holodomor in Ukraine in Mr. Jones (2019)—contemplates that tragedy from multiple perspectives in the film Green Border, which premieres in Spain after winning a Special Jury Prize at the Venice Film Festival.
When did the director decide to portray the refugees at the Poland-Belarus border through a film?
Pursuing what was publicly exposed about Lukashenko’s orchestration, the crisis prompted the country to create a no-go zone to prevent activists, journalists, medical staff, and humanitarian workers from approaching. They did not want the truth to spread. Simultaneously, a fear campaign demonizing refugees was launched, accusing them of crimes and portraying them with manipulated imagery. These two forces convinced the filmmaker to take action.
Before presenting Green Border at Venice, the Polish government led by the ultraconservative Jarosław Kaczyński subjected the film to insults and false accusations. The justice minister labeled it Nazi propaganda. How does the filmmaker recall that moment?
Expecting a hostile reception, the filmmaker did not anticipate such extreme reaction. Accusations ranged from comparisons to Goebbels and Hitler to links with Putin and Stalin. Countless threats followed, even demands for bodyguards and legal battles in court. Yet the broader impact was to thrust the film into public focus; in Poland alone, it reached about eight hundred thousand viewers.
Last October, Kaczyński’s party lost government to a liberal coalition led by Donald Tusk. What role did the film appear to play in that result?
The filmmaker believes the work contributed. It arrived at a moment when the government used refugees as a political weapon, and the film offered emotional resonance, a form of collective catharsis. Yet the hope sparked by that electoral change has faded. Tusk soon adopted a similar approach to refugees, maintaining secrecy, stoking fear, and mirroring the same harm against vulnerable people, with no real solution offered.
Undoubtedly, the issue extends beyond Poland…
Indeed. The European Union often seems ineffective in addressing the migrant crisis, whether at the Poland–Belarus border or the Mediterranean. A climate crisis has worsened conditions, turning entire regions uninhabitable, and in the pursuit of regime change, the Middle East has faced upheaval, driving people to flee. The reality is that refugees are present, yet their plight remains unwelcomed. History shows that when authorities tolerate, encourage, or order dehumanization of a minority, people are drawn to act in kind.
What is the filmmaker’s view on the rise of the far right seen in recent European Parliament elections?
It was predictable. Europe has shown fear about losing comfort and identity, and populists offer easy answers. Those solutions depend on misinformation, but many people choose to believe them because they feel safer.
Green Border includes scenes that invite parallels between refugees from Africa and the Middle East and the Jewish victims of the Holocaust. Are those parallels intentional?
Absolutely. The aim goes beyond honoring victims or recounting past horrors. The film seeks to warn that similar barbarism can recur. The European Union, while a noble concept, has proved less effective as times change. It once offered protection against the return of fascism and the venom that fed the Second World War, but now it has diminished as a protective vaccine. A new threat requires a new dose. What happened before could happen again now.
What does this look like in practical terms? What does Europe need?
A more humane and sensible migration policy is essential. Yet pessimism remains. Simply limiting refugee intake will not suffice, and repression and cruelty may rise. Without urgent action, Europe could face escalating violence; borders might see armor and shootings, with refugees facing deadly outcomes on the seas. Improvements will come only after conditions worsen further.