Ever wondered what the future holds for Russia? It’s actually quite easy to predict. Unless something catastrophic, like an asteroid hitting Earth, happens, Russia is likely to become a larger version of a small European country—Belarus.
Currently, Belarus is acting as Russia’s testing ground for new authoritarian tactics. Many of the policies and strategies we see in Russia today were first trialed in Belarus. These ideas are tested, refined, and perfected in the smaller nation before being rolled out on a larger scale in Russia. To understand where Russia is headed, all we need to do is closely observe Belarus.
Today, we’re diving deep into the world of Belarus—a small but significant example of an authoritarian regime. Belarus has become a golden standard for dictatorship, and we’ll explore how this tiny nation operates, why it remains under the grip of its long-time leader, Alexander Lukashenko, and why getting rid of him seems nearly impossible.
Basic Facts About Belarus
Let’s start with some basic facts about Belarus. Located in Eastern Europe, Belarus shares borders with Russia, Poland, Lithuania, Latvia, and Ukraine. Its position at the crossroads of Central Europe and Russia makes it a key strategic ally for the Kremlin. The population is around 9.4 million—less than the population of Moscow, which stands at 13.1 million.
Economically, Belarus is heavily reliant on Russia, especially for energy, trade, and financial support through loans and direct transfers to sustain the regime. The country lacks significant natural resources, and its heavy industry is largely a remnant of the Soviet era, struggling to adapt to modern demands. The food in Belarus is excellent, and farming—whether full-time or part-time—is a key part of the national economy and identity. However, the one thriving sector of Belarus’ economy was once the IT industry. If you’ve ever played the game World of Tanks, you’ve enjoyed a product made in Belarus. But with the regime’s constant suppression of economic freedom, many IT companies have since fled the country.
President Lukashenko, in power since 1994, has been a steadfast ally of Putin, offering support in international conflicts. However, he remains cautious about direct involvement in the ongoing war in Ukraine. Lukashenko walks a delicate line, balancing his hold on power within Belarus while providing diplomatic and political support to Russia.
Why Dictatorship Thrives in Belarus
For a dictatorship to thrive, two key elements are necessary: a deep-rooted fear passed down through generations and an economy designed as a bottleneck, where those in power control all major industries, trade routes, and resources, keeping the population dependent. Belarus has both in abundance.
Located at the heart of Europe, Belarus has always been a crossroads for conflict. World War I, the Civil War, and World War II all passed through this land, claiming the lives of one in every three or four people, if they didn’t manage to escape. This history of constant turmoil has shaped the collective mindset.
In Belarus, the values are not focused on progress or development but rather on safety and survival. The more a person relies on the state, the more they fear any alternative. And the state works hard to ensure as many people as possible remain dependent.
Belarusians are adaptable. They avoid meddling in things that don’t directly concern them. The national dream isn’t about revolution or political change—it’s about owning a home, having a car, and providing a better life for their children. This creates a deep-seated cynicism and materialism, making them skeptical of any grand ideology.
My Belarusian friend once shared a sad joke: The king hung a Russian, a Ukrainian, and a Belarusian. The Russian struggled and died, the Ukrainian broke three ropes but still perished, while the Belarusian didn’t even resist. They took him down after a week, and he came back to life. When asked how it was possible, he shrugged and said, “At first, it hurt, but then I got used to it.”
How the Belarusian People Live
During the Soviet era, Belarus was a key industrial hub. However, after the collapse of the Soviet Union, many factories became obsolete and eventually shut down due to their lack of profitability. The ones that survived continue to rely heavily on government subsidies. A similar fate befell the collective farms. While Russia dismantled most of its collective farms, Belarus kept this system alive. The logic behind it is simple: it doesn’t matter if these factories and farms are unprofitable, as long as the workers are paid. If people are occupied with hard work for a modest income that allows them to survive and save a little, they’re less likely to rebel. Rebellious thoughts usually emerge when people are doing well, but then the economy declines, and their expectations aren’t met. As long as the economy remains relatively stable, few are willing to fight for freedom.
So, who is keeping this system afloat? The Russian government. And the Russian government funds it through the sale of natural resources abroad. Belarus, in this sense, is like a remora fish, accompanying the big shark.
In the capital, Minsk, a typical salary is around $500 a month. Earning $700 means you’ve made it big. The average pension is around $250 a month, and somehow, people manage to live on that and even save.
Rent for a two-bedroom apartment in Minsk can cost around $550 a month, although cheaper options do exist. Buying a two-bedroom apartment in Minsk costs anywhere from $50,000 to $100,000. In Pinsk, a town with a population of 125,000, you can buy a three-bedroom apartment for about $36,000.
In Belarus, staying unemployed is nearly impossible. There’s a law that penalizes the unemployed, requiring them to register with the job center. Those who don’t comply face heavy taxes or higher utility rates. This isn’t about promoting work ethics or guiding citizens toward productive paths. Rather, it’s about control. The state wants to oversee all sources of income and ensure it knows who’s getting what.
Political resistance requires funding, so the simplest way to maintain authoritarian stability is to ensure potential rebels have neither the time, money, nor energy to protest.
The Dictator
After the collapse of the Soviet Union, Belarus was in dire straits. Corruption had decimated the remnants of the national economy, and it was during this chaotic period that Alexander Lukashenko won his first election—and it was a fair contest. He promised to punish corrupt officials, introduce social programs, and take care of ordinary Belarusians.
However, for people like him, the idea of relinquishing power is unimaginable. Lukashenko fits the personality type of Hunter-Commander. (By the way, if you’re curious about your own personality type, click on the link).
The Hunter-Commander type craves power and draws energy from it. Lukashenko possesses a strong will, a desire to be seen as the father of the nation, and undeniable charisma. When he enters a room, everyone knows who’s in charge. He is utterly convinced of his own correctness and effortlessly imposes his will on others. He believes that whatever happens, he is the one who made it happen—he claims to control everything, including the rain, and no one doubts him. He’s an expert in everything. He doesn’t suffer from delusions of grandeur; he revels in it.
Lukashenko takes pleasure in publicly humiliating his officials. Belarusian television frequently airs footage of him gathering his ministers, berating them, and watching as they cower in fear, heads hunched. The public loves it, as it gives them a sense that he’s standing up for the weak and can restore order with an iron fist.
To maintain his image, Lukashenko regularly organizes public spectacles to showcase his “achievements.” For example, once a year, he picks a small town, orders everyone to fix it up, and then visits to bask in the glory of his “success.”
The elite supports Lukashenko despite his outbursts because he is their primary source of income and status. Their wealth depends on his personal dealings with Putin. Without these, everything would collapse.
Despite this, Lukashenko lost the 2020 election, but Russia intervened with money and sent police to crush the protests. That’s how it ended. Since then, there has been no pretense of fair elections. The opposition is persecuted, but the borders remain open, allowing potential “troublemakers” to flee. In truth, Lukashenko benefits from this situation. If someone leaves, they are no longer a threat. Changing the situation from abroad is impossible.
The problem, however, is that those who flee are the very people who drive Belarus’s innovation and progress. The level of emigration after the failed 2020 revolution is staggering. Some sociologists estimate that about a quarter of a million Belarusians left the country. Many have moved to the Baltic states and Poland, replacing those who had previously gone to Germany and the UK. However, many have gone even further, settling in France, Spain, Mexico, Canada, and the United States.
By the way, we can expect a new wave of immigrants from Russia for the same reasons. This will be a high-quality migration, but it will be driven by desperation—many will be unprepared, with little to no foreign language skills. If some European countries are struggling with labor shortages and depopulation, perhaps it’s worth considering Russians who could bring labor, expertise, and capital. If the West shuts its borders, this flow will likely go elsewhere, most probably to Kazakhstan. Or, like the White émigrés after the Russian Civil War in the 1920s, they will find loopholes in the system and come anyway—there were two million of them back then.
I’ll share how they did it and managed to survive and thrive against all odds in my upcoming novel, The White Ghosts’ Empire. Be sure to subscribe to my newsletter (link in the description) for updates.
The Struggle for Belarusian Identity
Lukashenko’s supporters are those who rely on his ability to maintain the status quo, tying their future to the survival of his regime. On the other hand, the opposition consists of people who trust in their own education, talents, and business acumen to shape their future. They also hold hopes of revitalizing their nation independently from Russia. Under the Soviet regimes, the government pretended to support national identity, but in reality, this period accelerated Russification.
In Belarusian cities, most people speak Russian, though many still know some Belarusian, especially from their grandmothers in rural areas. Like much of the former USSR, Belarus experienced rapid urbanization in the 20th century, with many young people moving from the countryside to the cities.
After the collapse of the Soviet Union, many educated people began learning Belarusian, and a sense of national identity started to take root. However, the dictator views this movement as a threat, as his personal survival and the stability of his regime depend on Russia. Any push for independence or separation from Russian influence is seen as dangerous.
As a result, Belarus finds itself in a strange situation. If you speak Belarusian and wear traditional embroidered clothing, you’re viewed with suspicion. The historical white-red-white flag, which became a symbol of the failed 2020 revolution, is displayed alongside the Nazi flag in museums. The government spreads the narrative that Nazis and those calling for free elections are one and the same—and this manipulation works.
If you watch Belarusian TV or read state-run social media, you’d think the country is thriving. In reality, the culture is oppressed, while sports are glorified. Sports give people something to pride themselves on and keep them quiet. Belarus’ culture is still stuck in the Soviet mold, with patriotic songs and beauty pageants, something Lukashenko and the elite love. But Belarus doesn’t even reach the Soviet level anymore. Once home to one of the leading Soviet film studios, Belarusfilm, now it’s just a rundown site for cheap Russian film productions.
Those with talent and ambition leave, and many believe there’s no turning back. Belarusian culture is slowly bleeding to death.
There’s a severe lack of national culture and historical memory. The government tells its people to remember their history, but it only emphasizes the suffering of Belarusians during WWII, framing it in a way that fosters passivity and fear of the outside world. Everything that happened before is ignored. Belarus was once part of the Grand Duchy of Lithuania, one of the largest and most powerful states in medieval Europe. But the idea of a shared past with the Baltic States and Poland is considered dangerous, as it makes people question why they live much poorer than their closest neighbors. Could the problem lie with the government?
To counter this idea, Lukashenko employs a strategy similar to Putin’s: he blames the West for everything, claiming that Europe and the USA are in decline, with high unemployment and suffering from the supposed “forced gay propaganda” that allegedly causes children to change their gender. Since many people have never traveled abroad and are stuck in their own echo chamber, this narrative resonates with some.
The Danger of Education
Lukashenko understands the danger of an educated population to his power and has intentionally dismantled the freedom of education. One notable example is the closure of the European Humanities University in Minsk. It was shut down under the pretext that the campus was unsuitable for classes. However, the true reason was its growing influence and independent thought. Education in Belarus is designed to be entirely submissive to the dictator. Officially, 28% of Belarusians over 25 have a higher education, but very few work in their fields. The country has a large number of universities, but this doesn’t impact the culture significantly. While the technical education system is decent, the humanities are in a terrible state. The government wants to produce obedient cogs for the system, prioritizing engineers, doctors, and IT-specialists.
Even those with little formal education in history or political science could pose a threat to the regime if they had significant income independent of the state. Lacking natural resources, the Belarusian government needed money, and initially, Lukashenko saw the development of a “Silicon Valley” as a potential solution to generate much-needed revenue. The problem, however, was that as IT specialists earned incomes five to ten times higher than the average, they began to travel, experience the world, and, eventually, think they mattered. They started to voice political demands.
For several decades, the Belarusian IT sector grew rapidly, but this success sparked considerable resentment. The contrast between the tech elite and the rest of the population was too stark, and many viewed intellectual workers with suspicion. There’s a deeply ingrained belief that people should work in agriculture or manufacturing—industries the state supports. After the 2020 revolution, Lukashenko distanced himself from the IT sector, raising taxes and driving many companies to flee.
The Police State
In Belarus, the elite is comprised of law enforcement officers. The police, army, and the local political police all form the backbone of Lukashenko’s regime. His power rests on the fact that these individuals will follow orders to beat, imprison, and, if necessary, kill citizens. Belarus still has the death penalty.
Police are recruited from rural areas and are provided with privileges such as state-run childcare, subsidized housing, high salaries, and early retirement. For many, becoming a policeman is the only way to rise in society. Despite the fear they instill, they are not respected. There’s a joke about them: “Why do Belarusian cops walk in threes? One can read, one can write, and one can talk.”
Leaving the police force is extremely difficult. The state ensures that officers are effectively trapped in the system, with few options for leaving without facing severe consequences. If they choose to quit, they are required to repay all the money the state has invested in their education, training, and other expenses.
Tourists visiting Belarus might find it clean, beautiful, and seemingly crime-free, with no overt bribery.
The country doesn’t suffer from much violent crime, but it does have a significant suicide rate. Many people don’t seek help and turn to alcohol to cope with their depression, which often leads to tragic consequences. The rural areas and cities alike are plagued with alcoholism, a deep sense of hopelessness, and a culture where the weekend is just about drinking. Official statistics, of course, paint a picture that everything is fine, and if there are any issues, things are improving. But when you talk to real people and ask about their personal experiences, the harsh reality comes to light.
The death rate exceeds the birth rate. While the government touts its healthcare system as one of the best in the region, the personal experiences of patients in hospitals tell a very different story.
Another consequence of personal vulnerability and powerlessness before the state is the widespread belief in mysticism—such as horoscopes, curses, homeopathy, and other magical remedies. The police state operates like an overwhelming force of nature, and many people feel they can only pray it won’t affect them. In a world that seems hostile and unpredictable, many turn to magic for answers, believing it’s the only way to understand the logic of their circumstances.
The Desperate Fight for Freedom
In 2020, despite everything, Belarusians made a desperate attempt to claim their freedom. After the elections were rigged, men took to the streets to protest but were quickly suppressed with rubber bullets. Then, women, barefoot and holding flowers, faced off against the police in full gear. At first, it was inspiring—people believed Belarus was on the brink of freedom. Hundreds of thousands flooded the streets, while cars honked in solidarity. Lukashenko, at a loss, didn’t know how to respond. The police began arresting and beating the women, subjecting them to unimaginable horrors in prisons, hoping to break the will of the people.
The tactic worked. But even after the protests were crushed, the effects lingered. During the protests, security officers infiltrated the crowds, taking photos of demonstrators. They later tracked these individuals on social media. Even five years later, anyone who was part of those protests lives in fear of arrest. Lukashenko’s statement that he would imprison every protester still echoes.
There is no justice in the courts. The state deliberately terrorizes its citizens, handing down harsh sentences for merely demanding fair elections. Since the protests were widespread, many people now live in constant fear. Some remain hidden in the shadows, lacking official papers, bank accounts, or access to basic services. This detachment from the state offers them a semblance of safety, but searches and arrests continue. If a protester escapes the country, the police may go to their elderly parents’ home to terrorize them in retaliation.
One common form of punishment is “home chemistry,” a type of house arrest where individuals are confined to their homes under constant surveillance. It’s often used as a less severe alternative to prison, but it comes with the same suffocating control. Offenders can go to work, but after 6 p.m., they’re prohibited from leaving their homes. It’s a life of constant monitoring, where even the smallest freedom is stripped away, leaving people to endure a quiet, oppressive existence.
The Stolen Future
Lukashenko has stolen the future from his country. Those who can leave do so, while those who cannot stay behind, resigning themselves to a life of surviving the best way they can—or not surviving at all. The birth rate is alarmingly low, with only 150 children born for every 100 women, while 210 children per 100 women are needed for population replacement. There is no migration to compensate for this, so the population continues to shrink.
Officially, Lukashenko expresses concern and tries to create programs to support families, but Belarusian women are not rushing to have children, despite being told everything is fine in the country. In reality, there is no way out.
It seems that Russia is heading toward the same fate. While Russia is not a direct copy of Belarus, there are clear parallels. Both countries are governed by an absolute monarchy, with unclear lines of succession. Who will take over after Lukashenko? It’s unclear. He parades his son Kolya around, but he will likely be devoured by the system as soon as his father passes. The situation in Russia is no different when it comes to succession.
What unites both nations is the elite’s indifference to the people. The elites seek control over resources—be it Russia’s vast natural wealth or Belarus’s close ties to the Russian leadership. Both nations undermine education and culture, and both have an overwhelming number of police officers per capita. In both countries, the system encourages the emigration of the “rebellious” while intimidating those who remain.
In conclusion, let me say this: Humanity is inclined to authoritarianism by nature. For thousands of years, that’s how power has been structured in our species. Someone rises to the top and controls the fates and resources of everyone else. Democracy is a construct, and it took humanity a long time to conceive it. It’s extremely difficult to maintain, because our behavioral instincts constantly pull us back into authoritarianism unless we actively guard against it.
Some might think authoritarianism brings order and stability, as it has been justified by centuries of experience. But times have changed, and now we can clearly see that authoritarianism leads to the exodus of the talented, the destruction of the brave, and a rejection of childbirth by women, as it becomes a symbol of deep societal failure. These are the hard facts reflected in the numbers.
