Welcome to Belarus: How Europe's last dictatorship survives
Lukashenko clings to repression and an alliance with Russia to maintain a power that has lasted more than three decades.

Minsk (Belarus)The welcome to the so-called "last dictatorship in Europe" isn't warm. At the border, in a room resembling a Cold War set, a camera records my interrogation by a Belarusian soldier.
"What are you doing in Belarus?" he asks.
"Tourism," she says. I'm the last of the four foreigners on the bus from Warsaw to Brest to be interviewed.
The soldier rifles through my phone without letting me see the screen, but I'll later learn that he's looked at my social media interactions, deleted photos, and contacts. He asks me about my work and studies, about my interest in the country. The questions aren't exhaustive. The interview is a message: once inside the country, they're in control.
Since the 2020 protests, The stability of Aleksandr Lukashenko's regime hangs by a threadDespite the violent repression of the opposition, fears of another protest movement, organized from exile, persist. Adding to the political tension are criticism and sanctions following Russia's 2022 invasion of Ukraine, which Belarus supported. The regime doesn't expect foreigners to be on its side, but it wants to discourage them from being instigators or participants in any internal revolt.
–Do you know anyone from Ukraine?
–Yes, an old classmate.
–And he lives there?
–No, he lives in Belgium. I haven't spoken in a long time.
Ties to Ukrainians or members of the Belarusian diaspora are a source of suspicion. A few seconds later, the soldier shows me, on my screen, a contact with a Slavic name. He's an acquaintance. He doesn't ask me any more questions, but he's already sown concern about my privacy in the country. He gives me back my phone and my stamped passport. "All's fine," he says, and I cross the barrier into Belarus. Once inside, surveillance seems nonexistent: no one will monitor where we go or who we talk to.
To stay in power for three decades, Aleksandr Lukashenko has done more than resort to violence. With his allies, he has created a propaganda machine that allows him to dominate discourse and opinions and combat external ideas and influences. They don't need to implement total censorship, but they do need to control how information is interpreted.
Savior of the homeland
In January, Lukashenko secured the presidency with his seventh electoral victory, with 86% of the vote, in an election that all international observers have denounced as rigged. "I am elected by the Belarusians," Lukashenko said in an interview. "What matters to me is how my people see me, not whether they consider me legitimate outside." The important thing is to control the internal narrative, where real resistance has emerged.
Since the collapse of the USSR, Lukashenko's name has been inseparable from that of Belarus. The president defines the country and is its gravitational center. But Lukashenko's cult of personality is subtle. He has no monuments, nor does he occupy more time in the news than other heads of state. In Belarus, every square has a statue of Lenin, but there's no trace of the current leader. His cult is associated with a more refined omnipresence.
His followers call him batka (father (in Belarusian) and describe him as a reconciling leader and savior of the homeland. Lukashenko, they say, has guided Belarus from its infancy, the crisis of the 1990s, to prosperity. His government inherited a Soviet economy that had improved the country's condition and managed to maintain moderate growth until 2020. This relative economic success has not only made Lukashenko popular, but beloved.
The media, mostly state-owned, worship him. Worship is taught from a young age. In the children's section of bookstores, there are titles like For children, About elections either On the Constitution, with Lukashenko as its ultimate creator and defender. The chapter on the history of Belarusian democracy begins and ends with his photograph, both in the book and in real life.
The 1994 elections were the first and last free elections in the country. Since then, Belarus has been a dictatorship. This message reaches Belarusian citizens online, but propaganda also works to counter it, especially on Telegram. The tone of the reaction is sarcastic: "Of course we have a dictatorship: the dictatorship of well-being, of the defense of Belarusians."
Repression to maintain power
Any criticism is discredited, especially foreign criticism. The newspaper Minskaya Pravda reported that Reporters Without Borders ranks Belarus 166th in press freedom. "What a surprise," the paper said. "An organization secretly funded by France puts us at the bottom of the ranking, while placing Ukraine at the top." The message is clear: the West is against them, and no outside information is credible.
Alleged secret foreign funding has also justified the closure of more than 270 NGOs for being "contrary to national interests." Participants in the 2020 protests have been imprisoned using the same argument. Currently, more than 1,300 political prisoners are in penal colonies, tried as spies or aggressors. Propaganda portrays defenders of democracy as enemies of the people and freedom, and subjects of the European Union. They are not seen as political opponents, but as aggressors who want to destroy the country and turn it into a puppet of the West. Internal repression is not secret and functions as a weapon of deterrence, but it has closed the doors to Europe.
The struggle extends to official symbols. 2025 will mark the thirtieth anniversary of the referendum that put the design of the flag, inherited from the USSR, to the vote. Green and red are omnipresent on the streets, from the buildings of Minsk to the roundabouts of villages.
A Russian satellite?
The truth is that Belarus's alliance with Russia is both a necessity and an obstacle to better relations with its neighbors. The Belarusian president cannot, nor does he want to, break off relations with Putin. Without oil and gas subsidies, diplomatic support, and assistance in maintaining internal stability, his regime would be hanging by a thread.
In return, Lukashenko adopts the Kremlin's narrative of the rise of fascism in the European Union, of the "special military operation," and of Ukraine as a puppet of the West. During the war, he allowed Russia to transport weapons and soldiers to Kiev through his territory, although he did not involve the Belarusian army directly. However, the leader does not hesitate to reject a possible merger with Russia: "We are two independent countries within a union."
Belarus's sovereignty is the guarantee of the Lukashenko regime's existence and its position of power. That's why he doesn't hesitate to issue threats. "As soon as a boot crosses our border," he announced to his people before the Victory Day military parade, "the response will be swift as lightning." Lukashenko spoke into a microphone, wearing his military uniform. He recalled having within his reach "something that can inflict irreparable damage": the Russian nuclear weapons stored in the country.
In Belarus, Lukashenko is not only the leader, but also the father protector of the country and its greatest driving force. He was key to survival in the past, and it is necessary to build the future. But to stay in power, the president has covered the country's eyes with a green and red ribbon that obscures the view. And each year he tightens it a little more. But it doesn't seem like he can stretch the fabric much further without breaking it, and cracks continue to appear after three decades of tension.