An ode to dictatorship? In the Orwellian language of the Belarusian regime, this is more likely to be called a “forum of patriotic forces.” On July 20, in the vast “Sports Palace” in Minsk, Alexander Lukashenko was treated to an almost messianic homage, cheered in unison by an assembly of hundreds of propagandists. An opportunity to celebrate the anniversary of his reign.
Thirty years ago to the day, in 1994, the autocrat with the unchanging moustache was inaugurated as the president of Belarus, a position he has held on to ever since by force of batons. Against a backdrop of lively music, they praised the man “who saved the country from the brink.” And why not award him the title of “hero of Belarus,” as suggested by the faithful Aleksey Talay, who is also accused of facilitating the deportation of Ukrainian children?
Not a word about the terror instilled by the regime, an accomplice of Vladimir Putin. As it begins its third decade at the height of power, four years after the pro-democracy revolt crushed by repression, the Lukashenki dictatorship seems to be entering a new phase, that of the cult of personality.
A dark reminder of Stalinist times at a time when the authoritarian drift of the regime is accelerating, “moving towards the classic characteristics of a totalitarian state,” deciphers Artyom Shraibman, researcher at the Carnegie Russia Eurasia think tank.
The Making of a Despot
In 1994, during the presidential election, Alexander Lukashenko rose to power on a populist discourse tinged with Soviet-eraism. He promised to put an end to “corruption”, the preserve of a supposed elite, and won over a population plunged into the quagmire resulting from the dissolution of the Soviet bloc in 1991.
The regime soon revealed its true face. In 1996, following a contested “referendum”, Lukashenko granted himself full powers. The Constitution was violated, then repealed, the opposition was muzzled, Parliament became a registration chamber and the death penalty was maintained instead of being abolished. The white-red-white national emblem – symbol of independent Belarus in 1918 – was replaced by the red and green Soviet flag, minus the hammer and sickle. The KGB, the intelligence agency, changed neither its name nor its brutal methods. In 1999, four opponents mysteriously disappeared, including the former president of the Central Bank. The democratic interlude from 1991 to 1994 seemed a long time ago.
Lukashenko has since managed to forge the image of a tough leader. Former director of sovkhoz (collective farm), he claims to be a man of the people, showing up in the fields at harvest time. But behind this facade ofHomo sovieticus In modern times, he is also described as a satrap devoid of any real ideology. After all, wasn’t it he who claimed in 1995 that “not everything connected with Adolf Hitler in Germany was bad”?
In addition to his human rights violations, which earned him the nickname of “Europe’s last dictator” in 2005, he stands out for his management of the economy, 70% of which is nationalized, as well as for his electoral victories with a staggering score, fluctuating around 80%, each time crushing the timid protests in the streets.
But when the presidential election of August 9, 2020, arrived, the matrix of the regime broke. It was the electoral fraud too many: a fed-up feeling took hold of all layers of society, long considered apathetic. The calamitous management of COVID-19 — Lukashenko proposed to fight the virus with vodka and tractors —, the emergence of a generation connected to pro-European aspirations and the awakening of civil society were the spark. But the regime did not support rebellion. Power, nothing but power. The revolt was crushed by harsh repression that is still going on, four years later.
The strength of an authoritarian regime
Pavel Latouchka, a former apparatchik of the regime, worked closely with this “liar at heart”, “afraid of betrayal”. “In public, Lukashenko often humiliates civil servants”, says the man who was in turn ambassador and Minister of Culture, before defecting in August 2020 and fleeing to Warsaw. He recalls this astonishing conversation with the head of state in 2010. “He threatened to strangle me while citing the recordings of my conversations with my own daughter in the car.” Latouchka, a renegade of the regime, is now receiving death threats. In mid-July, the Polish prosecutor’s office notified him of an assassination attempt against him. “We believed, as diplomats, that it would be possible to change him. Wrong”, regrets the opponent, who admits with a wry smile, “never having voted for Lukashenko”.
Svetlana Tsikhanovskaïa, leader of the democratic forces in exile, is one of those Belarusians who have long walled themselves up in apoliticism. “I grew up in a small town, where propaganda was omnipresent. In an authoritarian regime, everyone has their own path to understanding what dictatorship is.” Before this stay-at-home mother became the face of the opposition in 2020, she had only participated in “one election” in her life. It was in 2001, at just 18 years old. “I voted like my parents, to try,” she says. That is to say, for the man whose number one enemy she has become, in a fabulous twist of history.