Imagine a state that poisons members of the opposition, shuts down independent media, arrests journalists, and tortures them to death—and then organizes an exhibition in the capital of another country to celebrate the “truths” of its propagandists. This is precisely what Russia did, in the heart of Belgrade, under the auspices of its ambassador, Botsan-Kharchenko, and applauded by representatives of the government of the Republic of Serbia. Nothing but pure moral reprehensibility. The Russian House in Belgrade opened an exhibition, “Died for the Truth,” on April 30. Ostensibly dedicated to the journalists who have exposed the crimes of the Ukrainian regime since 2014, this exhibition was in fact a propaganda theater of a state that has turned journalism into a weapon and the truth into an enemy.
The Serbian Assistant Minister for Information, Filip Pavlović, employees of Russian and Serbian media outlets, members of the Journalists’ Association of Serbia, and members of veteran and pro-Russian organizations were also present. Their presence is not a protocolar courtesy but a political act of complicity with the lie. The exhibition celebrates journalists who have served the Kremlin and calls them heroes of “truth.” But while Russia glorifies its propagandists, it tortures, kills, and silences all those journalists who dare to oppose Vladimir Putin’s regime. The blood of real journalists, real truth-seekers, soaks the foundations of this grotesque theater scene.
Viktoriia Roshchyna, a Ukrainian journalist aged 27, disappeared in the summer of 2023 while investigating secret Russian prisons in the occupied territories of eastern Ukraine. Her body was only returned in February 2025 as part of a body exchange—mutilated and without several internal organs. Ukrainian forensic experts have documented numerous signs of torture: burn marks on her feet from electric shocks, abrasions on the head and hips, a broken rib, a broken hyoid bone—often an indication of strangulation. Her brain, eyes, and larynx were missing.
A DNA analysis confirmed the identity with 99.9% probability. Official cause of death: “undetermined.” No one answered for this. No one even tried to explain. And while her parents are still waiting for justice, Russian officials in Belgrade are organizing an exhibition about their “heroes of journalism.”
A state that poisons members of the opposition, imprisons journalists, censors and shuts down the media, and wages war on free thought cannot even in its wildest dreams present itself as the protector of truth. Russia is the most dangerous place in the world for free journalists. From the murder of Anna Politkovskaya to the imprisonment of Evan Gershkovich and dozens of missing local journalists in the occupied territories, Putin’s regime does not tolerate the truth. It stifles the truth, destroys it, and then makes exhibitions about it.
The aim of the Belgrade exhibition is not a commemoration but a reversal of reality. The exhibition aims to depict Russia as a victim, a liberator, and a protector of “unpleasant truths” that the West is purportedly suppressing. This is not just propaganda—it is a brutal reshaping of reality, as destructive as the aggression itself.
The presence of representatives of the Serbian government at this event is shameful. Particularly concerning is the attendance of Filip Pavlović, the Assistant Minister for Information, a man tasked with safeguarding the principles of free journalism. Instead, with his presence, he legitimized a foreign aggressor, an autocratic regime that both symbolically and physically erases everything that represents the truth.
Serbia has the right to conduct an independent foreign policy. But that does not mean that it should trample on the truth. Neutrality is not amnesia. Belgrade must not remain silent, because that would make it a participant in a moral crime.
Where are the protest notes from the Western embassies in Belgrade? Where are the condemnations from European leaders? Where are the reactions of journalists’ associations around the world? The West is silent—not because it doesn’t know, but because it is afraid to face up to its own weaknesses. If it continues like this, it will not be remembered for its values, but for its capitulation to crime. While the world turns its head, Ukraine is still standing. And not just on the front lines, but in every newsroom, school, hospital, and kitchen. The Ukrainian people carry the burden of war, the burden of truth, and the burden of the world’s unjust silence. They remember Viktoriia Roshchyna not as a victim but as a symbol. Her life, her death, her torture—this is not a forgotten victim. It is an indictment against a state and against all of us who remain silent. While Russian exhibitions are being organized in Belgrade, Ukrainian mothers recognize their children by their wounds. Silence in the face of lies is not neutrality—it is consent. When the Russian ambassador in Belgrade organizes a propaganda event in the capital of a European country, he is not spreading culture but cynically testing the extent of our passivity. And when politicians sit in the front row at this event, it’s not a mistake—it’s a decision.
There is no peace without justice. No dialog with the murderers. The exhibition in Belgrade is not a diplomatic incident—it is a slap in the face of every murdered journalist, every prisoner of conscience, every voice that has been silenced. It is a mirror of the silent world. History will not forgive those who knew about it and remained silent. Even less those who applauded.
But the truth did not die with Viktoriia Roshchyna. Today it is carried by her colleagues who work secretly, under pseudonyms, in the trenches… It is carried by every Ukrainian reporter who records a crime and by every citizen who refuses to forget.
Every sentence we write about Victoriia—and every murdered journalist—must be an indictment, not a memory. Because when truth is killed, the next victim is memory. And if we don’t speak up now, no one will listen tomorrow. That is why it is important to mention the names of those who sat in Belgrade that day. It is important to write down the names of those who smiled in front of the boards “died for the truth” while the parents of Viktoriia Roshchyna stood in front of the coffin carrying a body without eyes and a larynx. It is important to name accomplices—not for revenge, but to defend ourselves. Because the exhibition will not take place in Belgrade next time. It will be in Budapest. Or in Sofia. Or in Berlin. And the next Victoriia may not be Ukrainian, but Polish, Lithuanian, or one of us. And no, there shouldn’t be any normalization with them! This cannot be forgotten. The truth doesn’t seek revenge; it seeks someone to stand up for it when others turn away.
So let this be a record, not news. Let it be a warning, not an analysis. When the truth is struggling to survive, it requires an ally rather than a commentary. When the state forgets the victims and embraces the murderers, it’s every free man’s duty to remember. A name. Silence. Blood. A lie. An exhibition. Or the day when the truth was killed and the world remained peaceful.