A chilling update from Belarus

As Belarus approaches the 30th anniversary of Aliaksandr Lukashenka’s autocratic rule, repression by the regime against those who stand for democracy and freedom is not getting any less severe.

This summer marks three decades since Lukashenka’s first inauguration and four years since the Belarusian pro-democratic revolution erupted following his controversial 2020 presidential election win over political newbie Sviatlana Tsikhanouskaya. Despite the ongoing democratic movement led by Tsikhanouskaya, which keeps Belarus on the international agenda, the regime relentlessly cracks down on civil society both inside the country and in exile.

As of today, more than 1,400 political prisoners are behind bars in Belarus. During a recent visit to Washington, Tsikhanouskaya highlighted the scale of the repression by comparing these 1,400 prisoners to what would be 45,000 political prisoners in the United States. Many activists argue that support for Belarusians who flee their homeland could be stronger. Maria Rudz, co-chair of Razam, a Belarusian diaspora group in Germany, reported that out of 1,000 asylum applications from Belarusians, only 40 received positive decisions.

It is also crucial to remember that those jailed on politically motivated charges in Belarus endure inhumane treatment in prisons. Many imprisoned leaders of the pro-democratic movement are held incommunicado: Siarhei Tsikhanouski for 471 days, Maryia Kalesnikava for over 493 days, Mikalai Statkevich for 498 days, Maksim Znak for 499 days, and Viktar Babaryka for 502 days. Lukashenka is acutely aware that these leaders have inspired both Belarusians and the democratic world since the summer of 2020. Now, serving unjust sentences ranging from 10 to 18 years, they are deprived of freedom of speech and kept in silence as Lukashenka’s hostages.

Nevertheless, Belarusians inside the country and in exile have loud voices and activists continue their work from abroad. This persistence frustrates the regime, which cannot silence Tsikhanouskaya, her team, leaders of the diaspora and Belarusian NGOs. As a new tactic, the regime has begun conducting trials in absentia since 2023. On 20 June, Franak Viačorka, one of Tsikhanouskaya’s advisors, was sentenced in absentia to 20 years and fined 17,000 euro. Viačorka says that such attempts to disrupt their work are not fruitful: “It was not a trial but a farce. Lukashenka is a fraud, and his terror will not stop us from fighting for a free Belarus.”

Sadly, this has become common practice. Human rights activist Leanid Sudalenka from Viasna, who served an unjust sentence in Belarus and subsequently left the country, received another five-year sentence, in absentia. Several of his colleagues from Viasna remain behind bars, including Valiantsin Stefanovich, Marfa Rabkova and 2022 Nobel Peace Prize winner Ales Bialiatski .

The regime sometimes manages to put pressure on Belarusians even across international borders. The Serbian High Court has ruled that activist Andrei Hniot should be extradited back to Belarus due to charges brought by the regime. Hniot has filed an appeal, citing persecution by the regime. Following the court’s decision in Belgrade, Sviatlana Tsikhanouskaya immediately called for support for Hniot through an open letter.

To get an insight into the work that Tsikhanouskaya is doing, readers in London can attend the screening of the British documentary The Accidental President about 17 July at the Bertha DocHouse in The Brunswick in London’s West End. The movie, which follows Tsikhanouskaya as she is thrust onto the world stage as Belarus’s de facto head of state in exile, will be followed by a Q&A session with directors Mike Lerner and Martin Herring.

Belarus, the country where journalists are terrorists

It is hard to imagine something more damning as an indicator of press freedom than a leader banning the country’s journalism union and threatening penalties and jail for anyone who has dealings with it.

Yet this is what has been done by Alyaksandr Lukashenka’s Belarus, fast becoming a model for media repression. In February, the Belarusian Association of Journalists (BAJ) was designated by the authorities in the country as an “extremist formation”.

The authorities also identified eight people, including BAJ chair Andrey Bastunets, who now face up to ten years in prison for “establishing or participating” in the organisation. Others who have financed or “abetted” BAJ could also face jail time, arbitrary detentions, interrogations, and searches.

While another 20 media companies, most of the mainstream, independent Belarusian media, have also been given a similar label, this is the first human rights organisation to be designated thus.

Now the Belarusian authorities have gone a step further and BAJ’s website, social media accounts and logo have now been designated as “extremist materials”. Anyone disseminating the association’s content or merely liking an article on its social feeds could mean a 15 day stay in jail.

The situation is like Britain’s government putting the National Union of Journalists in the same category as Al Qaeda.

Journalists in Belarus, at least those who report critically about Lukashenka’s activities, are now under threat. Some are in jail – 34 media workers at the end of June) – despite Lukashenka this week telling the BBC’s Steve Rosenberg that there are no political prisoners in the country.

Other journalists have left the profession while others have fled abroad.

In spite of these attacks, Bastunets, speaking to Index about the challenges facing journalists, says the independent media of Belarus is far from dead.

“Those journalists who left the country face different challenges than their colleagues in Belarus,” he says, with particular problems in obtaining legal residency in host countries, the high cost of living and renting accommodation even though many of them have their own, now empty, apartments in Belarus.

“There is also the different legal environment, language problems, the sometimes discriminatory attitude to Belarusians as co-aggressors, …and, for some, psychological burn-out.”

Many of those who left Belarus expected to return in a month or two, he says.

“Repression has been going on for almost three years and it is not clear when it might stop. And if media outlets have mostly coped with relocation, survival, and the arrangement of their activities, new challenges await us if current trends persist. One of them is the necessity of accepting the fact that we are in exile for a long time.”

But rumours about the death of the independent media in Belarus are “exaggerated”, he says.

“Several influential media outlets are still working in the country. But, of course, their working conditions are extremely unfavourable. Journalists live under constant threat of raids, detentions, interrogations, and criminal prosecution.”

As a result, media organisations that still operate in Belarus have reinforced safety measures for their journalists as well as using even more secure communications protocols.

They are also self-censoring to some extent.

“Editorial boards have to take extra care when publishing pierces on sensitive issues – on government activities, on opposition, on the war in Ukraine, etc. – in order to minimise the risks,” says Bastunets.

In addition to media outlets with editorial offices in Belarus, there is also a large number of freelance journalists who continue to operate in the country but contribute, usually anonymously, to editors in exile.

This carries grave risks.  On 30 June, cameraman Pavel Padabed was sentenced to four years in prison after being accused of cooperation with the Polish TV channel Belsat, which has also been recognised as an extremist formation.

There is plenty to report on.

The news two weekends ago that Alyaksandr Lukashenka, whose legitimacy as the leader of Belarus is contested, had acted as a “peacemaker” between Vladimir Putin and Yevgeny Prigozhin provided an interesting story for Belarusian media, both in and outside the country.

Lukashenka promised Prigozhin that could come to Belarus as part of a deal he claimed to have brokered to reduce the tension. Confusingly, he has since announced that Prigozhin is not in Belarus but in St Petersburg (or Moscow).

Most independent media actively covered the actions of Prigozhin and Wagner against the Russian Defence Ministry, with editors and commentators using a variety of terms – military uprising, putsch, coup attempt, march of justice, conflict – to describe it.

“State-run media outlets focused on ‘praising’ Lukashenka’s role in settlement of the conflict, which is questioned by many independent experts,” says Bastunets. “It is unknown whether Prigozhin and Wagner Group mercenaries are now in Belarus and whether they were or will be here at all. But there is a feeling that the Wagner mercenaries will not be welcome guests.”

If Prigozhin does turn out to be in Belarus, the country’s independent media are still there to report on it.

The fates of Ukraine and Belarus are intertwined

The people in Belarus are not willing to fight against Ukraine. It won’t be easy to convince them,” Ukrainian president Volodymyr Zelensky told the Munich Security Conference last week amid threats from Belarus that it could join the Russian offensive. The Belarusian regime has supported Russia since the invasion, but their armed forces have not (yet) been directly involved in the conflict.

Like in Russia, anti-war rhetoric has been heavily repressed in Belarus. Last March mothers of Belarusian soldiers were arrested after they gathered in the church to pray for peace. And only last week a 65-year-old garage owner was fined, and his business closed for having called Russian military personnel “occupiers” and refusing to sell them goods.

Nonetheless, some political prisoners have managed to communicate their feelings about the war. “We are one, we used to be at peace […] Hide your pride and shake hands,” Siarhei Sakavets wrote in his poem “22.02.2022” on the eve of the invasion. “There are so many rumours about everything that is happening, and the news on TV. God help me. I am very worried about you,” Larysa Kuzmenka wrote to her daughter and grandson last November.

Reading these letters from Belarusian political prisoners published by Index on Censorship, Pasha Bystrova – a Ukrainian woman who now lives in the Netherlands – says she felt a sense of “extreme injustice”. In different ways, Ukrainians and Belarusians are being deprived of their fundamental rights. They are suffering the consequences of tyranny.

Bystrova, who now works with refugees – including Ukrainian refugees – told Index that she feels that political prisoners and refugees are alike in that they are often perceived as being ‘the other’ by wider society. They are misunderstood because many people have preconceived ideas of who a ‘political prisoner’ or ‘refugee’ is. Having read political prisoners’ letters, Bystrova said: “I felt this could be me, any of us or our loved ones.”

Bystrova feels that the fates of Ukraine and Belarus are intertwined. “I believe the result of this war will greatly influence the situation in Belarus,” Bystrova told Index. “The collapse of the Lukashenka regime is inevitable.” That’s why defending Ukraine is “for our freedom and yours”.

Index on Censorship has so far published letters from 29 of the 1450 political prisoners in Belarus. Read their letters here