The End of Adaptive Authoritarianism in Belarus?

Abstract

In the 2000s the Belarusian regime appeared adept at developing appropriate methods for countering external democratisation efforts and was even a model for other post-Soviet autocracies. To cope with ever-changing internal and external environments, the regime honed the methods of adaptive authoritarianism. However, this article shows that the Belarusian system is fragile and failing by using a framework that analyses various aspects of adaptive authoritarianism, including performance legitimacy, personalist rule, neopatrimonialism, managed pluralism and coercive capacity.

Between May 2020 and March 2021 Belarus experienced country-wide protests. Alyaksandr Lukashenka responded with heavy-handed repression, clearing demonstrations by Spring 2021. This resulted in an uneasy peace between the authorities and the populace. A new spark may ignite protests. At present Lukashenka is trying to balance support for Russia and not getting involved in the Ukraine war which is unpopular in Belarus. Belarusian involvement could spark protests. While Belarus has been a support base to Russia, Belarusian troops have not been sent to the warzone. Eventually the Belarusian regime may be forced by the Russian authorities to get involved, but currently the regime has managed to stay out of the war. At present the spark of protests has not re-ignited but this could change at any time and is something Lukashenka remains wary of. During 2020–2021 protesters used a range of tools, such as the Telegram channel NEXTA-Live, to plan tactics, assess actions and share information. Groups such as the Cyber Partisans hacked government and state-controlled factory websites to win the support of state employees (Belyaev 2020). Peaceful protests coupled with diverse tactics made it difficult for the authorities to maintain control (Dautin 2021) and suppress them.

The authorities used technology to monitor and filter social media, but protesters successfully used VPNs to circumvent these filters. Opposition hackers even switched off government websites unilaterally (Sierakowski 2020, p. 10). The authorities reverted to previously successful tactics; for example, after protests in 2006, the regime painted Poland as the behind-the-scenes instigator intent on regime change (Ankudo 2007). This tactic was used again in 2020, although Lithuania replaced Poland in this instance.¹ Failing to scare enough Belarusians into supporting the regime, the authorities extended the enemies list to include the UK, Ukraine, Czechia and Estonia, all of whom were said to be funnelling US money into Belarus (Isachenkov & Karmanau 2020). Another tactic was to create pro-regime protests, but not enough people were coerced to join in significant numbers (Khalip 2020). Repression was the regime’s go-to tactic to end protests: the authorities used it to reduce protest numbers, jail terms for protesting were doubled to 30 days and fines for demonstrating increased (Mishchenko 2021). The violent suppression and torture of detainees was another hallmark of the regime’s response (Davlashyan 2020) and resulted in less people being willing to go out and protest over time.²

Repression has been a hallmark of the regime, enforced with counter-revolutionary technology and legislation to control non-regime-controlled opposition, media and civil society. In this Belarus was an example to other post-Soviet autocracies, particularly Russia (Hall 2017). I argue that the 2020–2021 protests are only one example of the regime’s growing and decade-long non-adaptation to domestic events other than in relying on repression. Belarusian adaptive authoritarianism has been in decline for a decade: while the recent protests were partly caused by short-term factors, the malaise causing the regime’s non-adaptation has longer-term causes.

Here, I use Frear’s (2019) framework on Belarusian adaptive authoritarianism to investigate whether the regime has lost its ability to adapt quickly. This ability helps explain President Lukashenka’s retention of power since 1994. I argue that since the 2008 global recession and resulting economic stagnation, the regime has experienced reduced adaptive capacity. By analysing the existing literature, supported by anonymous interviews with specialists on the Belarusian political and social system in London, Minsk and online between 2016 and 2020, I argue that adaptive authoritarianism, but not necessarily the regime itself, is coming to an end in Belarus.

Belarusian adaptive authoritarianism: a framework

According to Frear (2019) and as illustrated in Table 1, Belarusian adaptive authoritarianism has five aspects: personalist rule, neopatrimonalism, performance legitimacy, managed pluralism and coercive capacity. By Frear’s definition adaptive authoritarianism rests on a mixture of ‘employing coercion, and demonstrating pragmatism, expediency, and opportunism to modify and adapt how these aspects … are pursued at any given time, as deemed in the best interests of the incumbent leadership’ (Frear 2019, p. 13). In Belarus, personalist rule is largely hierarchical, with Lukashenka at the top. For example, close allies want their support to be rewarded, so Lukashenka allows them to control businesses, which in turn constrains his power (Balmaceda 2014, p. 93). Business figures such as Yuriy Chizh and Uladzimir Peftsieu have supported Lukashenka at different times, and the regime has defended their interests. Within the regime there has long been a rivalry between the silaviki (Belarusian: the security services, army and interior ministry) and the technocrats. However, Lukashenka has maintained overall control and shifted personnel around. At various points the power of the silaviki has waxed and waned depending on the regime’s needs (Shraibman 2020b).

TABLE 1 Framework of Belarusian Adaptive Authoritarianism

Personalist rule	The regime is hierarchical with Lukashenka at the top. Until 2016 even the Independent Institute of Socio-Economic and Political Studies (IISEPS) polling firm argued that Lukashenka still had the support of one third of the population (Manaev cited in Wilson 2021, pp. 305–6). However, Lukashenka is a great survivor and while his image has undoubtedly been tainted by mass protests in 2017 and 2020–2021, he would still have supporters among the electorate. Free and fair elections are unlikely and short of a coup, further mass protest or removal by external forces, Lukashenka will remain president as the regime retains a highly repressive capacity.
Neopatrimonialism	Close allies are appointed for loyalty rather than competence.
Performance legitimacy	Economic growth, stability, guaranteed jobs and healthcare give the regime legitimacy. A fluid ideology allows the regime to adapt when necessary.
Managed pluralism	Control of the political system allows the regime to control elections with ‘opposition’ candidates, thereby giving the regime some legitimacy. ‘Opponents’ are managed by the regime and can change depending on the situation.
Coercive capacity	The regime retains significant coercive capacity, using a full repressive repertoire or targeted repression to divide the opposition.

Notably, Lukashenka won what were probably the only truly free and fair elections in 1994 because he was genuinely popular (Matsuzato 2004, p. 242). He was, until recently, able to maintain the myth that the period under previous leader Viacheslau Kebich had been unstable. In his inaugural presidential speech, Lukashenka stated that ‘the end of anarchy has arrived’ (Way 2012, p. 642). In 1994, Lukashenka campaigned on an anti-elite platform, seeming to genuinely understand ‘rural conservatism, Soviet nostalgia, communal ethos, parochialism and egalitarian mind-set’ (Frear 2019, p. 66). Lukashenka was initially popular as he attempted to bring back the economic security that Belarusians had last experienced in the Soviet Union, and this legacy of popularity is part of the reason for his longevity.

Neopatrimonialism refers to the appointment of senior officials through personal loyalty rather than competence, while those lower in the hierarchy are appointed for their bureaucratic prowess (Erdmann & Engel 2007, pp. 110–11). Neopatrimonial systems place loyalty above competence and distribute resources among allies to maintain allegiance. Many post-Soviet constitutions place power exclusively in the president’s hands, thus providing incumbents with opportunities to appoint allies and maintain loyalty (Hale 2005, pp. 137–38). Lukashenka has been adept ‘at keeping the ruling elites in line’ (Frear 2019, p. 26); as the regime is pyramidal, Lukashenka can ‘provide and withhold favours, goods, and benefits’ (Frear 2019, p. 21) to maintain elite cohesion.

A crucial role in Belarusian adaptive authoritarianism is played by performance legitimacy: the regime maintains popular support by effectively providing law, order and stability, and improving the socio-economic situation. One aspect of performance legitimacy is the development of a social contract between the authorities and the population, with the state providing ‘the expectation of steadily increasing living standards’ in return for political acquiescence (Balmaceda 2014, p. 86). The social contract has evolved over time, but its main points of stability and improved economic well-being, for non-involvement in politics (Silitski 2009, pp. 158–60), have remained the same. Throughout Lukashenka’s leadership the social contract has been crucial to the regime’s performance legitimacy.

While the economy endured three recessions between 2008 and 2021, Belarus had previously experienced economic growth, from the late 1990s until 2008. After the demise of the Soviet Union and Belarus’s 1991 independence, the economy neared collapse, which resulted in life-savings evaporating and the near-closure of most industrial enterprises which were the primary employers (Ioffe 2014b, p. 110). However, by 2004 the Belarusian economy had reached the same level of gross domestic product (GDP) seen in 1990 (Ioffe 2004, p. 90). Belarus outperformed its neighbours—Russia and Ukraine—in GDP growth, income equality, agricultural productivity, education expenditure, health care and life expectancy (Ioffe & Yarashevich 2011). Unlike other post-Soviet states, the Belarusian authorities increased the number of ‘state-, enterprise-, and trade union-sponsored health and recreation homes and rest homes’ (Ioffe 2014b, pp. 113–14). Until 2008 the Belarusian economy grew and the regime provided access to these facilities for most of the population while guaranteeing jobs, healthcare and wages. Economic growth occurred because of external factors, such as the growth of the Russian economy, which benefitted the Belarusian economy (Zlotnikov 2009, p. 65). At various points during the 1990s and 2000s Russia wrote off Belarusian debts, subsidised the economy and provided loans (Zlotnikov 2009, p. 77).

Another aspect of performance legitimacy is a fluid state ideology. Victory in World War II, the role of the Belarusian partisans in fighting the Germans, the benefits of living in the Soviet Union, which turned Belarus by Soviet standards into a Hi-tec economy and a close alliance with Russia are still part of the regime’s ideology (Marples 2014). The regime has tried to develop other legitimation myths, such as portraying Minsk as the ‘fourth Rome’ and as a bastion of Slavic civilisation (Wilson 2021, p. 203). Projects such as the national library and investment in sports were also used to promote national pride (Wilson 2021, pp. 203–6). This ideological fluidity allowed Lukashenka to appeal to Belarusians (Frear 2019, pp. 19–20). However, since the protests ended in 2022 it is unclear whether this is still the case.

A crucial aspect of Belarusian adaptive authoritarianism is managed pluralism. There are different dimensions to this concept, but for the purposes of this article I focus on political pluralism. The authorities used pro-regime candidates in the 2001, 2006, 2010 and 2015 presidential elections to give the impression of political pluralism while ensuring that none of these candidates would attract significant support. Lukashenka had a few sparring partners with a systemic-opposition character that contested presidential elections. For instance, Siarhei Haidukevich always attacked non-regime candidates and promoted an aura of being so abhorrent that voters had little alternative to Lukashenka (Wilson 2021, p. 197). In the 2006 presidential elections, Aliaksandr Kazulin was placed in charge of the Social Democratic party Hromada, which was historically close to the regime. Kazulin’s populist rhetoric and pro-Russian stance were meant to split the opposition electorate (Wilson 2021, pp. 212–13). The 2015 presidential election saw Haidukevich and Mikalai Ulakhovich compete for who could be the most unappealing candidate (Wilson 2021, p. 265). Questions also arose over how close the nominal opposition candidate, Tatstsiana Karatkevich, was to the regime.³

Through a regime-orchestrated system of managed pluralism, electoral candidates can themselves be pro-regime. The non-system opposition, meanwhile, is so divided that any genuinely independent contender immediately risks being labelled a quisling by other groups. Managed pluralism allows the regime to create the perception of free elections, thereby gaining some legitimacy. The controlled opposition can be changed depending on the regime’s needs. If there is a recession, the opponent can be made unelectable so the electorate has little choice but to vote for Lukashenka; alternatively, if the authorities want to create the façade of free elections and garner support from Western states, as in 2015, an independent opponent is permitted to campaign.

While Lukashenka has held onto power by tapping into deep sources of conservatism ‘with his own brand of demagogic rhetoric’ (Balmaceda 2007, pp. 194–95), repression is a crucial pillar for the regime’s survival. Between 1999 and 2000 three opposition members disappeared and their bodies have never been found. During the 2006 presidential campaign, opposition candidate Aliaksandr Milinkevich was arrested on numerous occasions, making it difficult for his team to campaign. Mostly, repressive tactics have involved targeted control of the opposition, non-governmental organisations (NGOs) and media outlets (Balmaceda 2007, p. 196). The regime has also relied on detention of opposition activists leading up to elections and protests (Balmaceda 2007, p. 198) and economic harassment to quell opposition groups. Until recently, the private sector was small and the state was the largest employer. This allowed the regime to sack any workers involved in protests and to stop them finding new employment. Many students get bursaries and discounted accommodation, both of which will be lost if they protest. This reduces the numbers of those willing to protest (Balmaceda 2007, p. 200). The regime used extensive repression when necessary, such as in reaction to protests after the 2010 presidential elections (Padhol & Marples 2010, p. 15).

Silitski (2006) contends that the Belarusian authorities perfected the art of pre-emption by applying constant pressure on the opposition, independent media and civil society. Legislation has been changed arbitrarily to make it difficult for non-regime entities to function. Media control allows the state to shape public opinion. Repression has remained one of the key tools of power retention in the regime’s arsenal and different coercive methods remain integral to Belarusian adaptive authoritarianism.

Frear (2019) argued that the regime is fluid and adaptive; I will investigate whether this is still the case and if Belarus remains an example of adaptive authoritarianism. Through Frear’s (2019) aforementioned five key factors—personalist rule, neopatrimonialism, performance legitimacy, managed pluralism and coercive capacity—the regime has refined its consolidation of power. In particular, performance legitimacy and repression have been key to regime survival. Each factor is broadly relevant to understanding Belarusian adaptive authoritarianism, but to what extent has this changed? The next section will explore Belarusian adaptive authoritarianism leading up to and in 2021.

Towards the end of Belarusian adaptive authoritarianism?

Performance legitimacy

Performance is the regime’s key means of retaining legitimacy; Lukashenka has maintained support by maintaining stability and improving the socio-economic situation. However, as the country lurched from one economic crisis to another after the 2008 global financial crisis, its performance became increasingly questionable.⁴ Lukashenka was fortunate because the Belarusian Soviet Socialist Republic had been relatively well-developed by Soviet standards (Wilson 2021, p. 238). However, by the late 2000s, existing Soviet resources were depleted and the regime had less capacity to offer the benefits Belarusians expected. Lukashenka had benefitted from Russian subsidies, loans, and reduced oil and gas prices during the 1990s and 2000s. Following the 2008 global financial crisis, the 2014 sanctions over Ukraine and oil price collapse, the Russian economy, which mainly depended on natural resources for revenue, weakened. The Russian authorities consequently reduced subsidies to Belarus (Kuznetsov 2020), which decreased the Belarusian regime’s ability to maintain the social contract.

Belarus suffered three recessions in six years: the global financial crisis in 2008; Lukashenka’s over-spending on voter incentives at the 2010 presidential election; and the 2014 economic crisis (Wilson 2016, p. 79). By 2010 the state-centred economy was experiencing low productivity, resulting in an account deficit of 16% of GDP.⁵ The private sector grew rapidly from 2010 and quickly became the main forerunner of economic reform, yet the public and private sectors of the economy operated ‘in parallel worlds’ (Artyugin 2016). Private companies implementing modernisation programmes were hampered by a regime that mistrusted their independence and believed that the state was best positioned to facilitate economic growth (Haiduk 2013). Averse to any structures that might reduce his control, Lukashenka restricted private sector growth by heavily taxing the sector or arresting businessmen if they became too independent (Wilson 2021, p. 262).

After 2008, a faction of technocrats wanted to initiate reforms without radically changing the system. By 2015 the private sector generated more GDP than state-controlled businesses, forcing the authorities to increase GDP generated by state companies even though this meant taking out unaffordable loans (Astapenia 2016). One key reform policy boosted certain sectors, such as information technology, intending to highlight the economy’s modern, high-tech nature (Murphy 2020). However, the technocrats remained a minority and competed with other regime insiders who believed that state control was the best model for economic growth. Lukashenka remained wedded to this view himself. Consequently, the technocrats became disenchanted.⁶

There were different tax policies for private and state companies. The authorities continually developed innovative ways to tax the private sector to resuscitate the state sector. This resulted in growing dissatisfaction among private businesses. This problem came to a head in 2018, when the private sector became the largest employer. After 2018, the authorities began expropriating private property or re-nationalised private companies (Mazol 2018a) hoping to annex such modernising reforms to the state sector. But the state sector continued to fail. The regime put money into state-owned companies, which increased the state debt burden, leading to further stagnation (Mazol 2018b). State-controlled businesses were spread across the country; as these organisations began to fail, state-wide dissatisfaction increased. Heavy taxation and state control alienated businesses, and increasingly their workforces opposed the government.

The authorities wanted a modern yet largely state-controlled economy. By 2019 the regime was taking loans from any organisation or state that was willing to help it shore up the economy and maintain the social contract. However, the loans were either wasted on state enterprises or used to repay existing debt (Wilson 2021, pp. 259–61). The private sector had begun to grow after 2009, but by 2018 it was constantly restricted by the regime, which tried to milk the sector of money. The recessions and the lack of available financing were even noticed by the regime’s core electorate, expanding the number of those willing to protest (Kłysiński 2020).

Knowing that there was little money to incentivise loyalty, the regime began to change the social contract; it shifted its focus from monetary enticements to emphasising that only Lukashenka could keep Belarus independent and safe from Russia (Wilson 2016). After the Russian annexation of Crimea in 2014, the regime was fearful of Russian incursions into Belarus. Increasingly, organisations were linked to Russia; Cossack organisations and ‘patriotic’ military clubs began to appear in eastern Belarus (Karatch 2016). However, continued economic crises belied the statements that only Lukashenka could keep Belarus safe and increased popular discontent (Tokbolat 2020). This narrative, which was used again in 2020, was already tenuous by 2016 and shows that the regime had exhausted its ideas.

The authorities failed to realise that society had changed. The state sector was employing fewer people than the private sector. Increasingly, Belarusians wanted consumer goods. In 2009, the Belarusian Institute for Strategic Studies (BISS) found that most people accepted the social contract of guaranteed employment, wages and health care in exchange for their non-involvement in politics. By 2014, Belarusians wanted the state to be less involved in their lives, yet still desired the perks of the social contract (Pikulik & Artemenko 2014). Lukashenka’s inner circle was increasingly withholding information from him, and it is likely he was unaware of these societal changes.⁷ This partially explains why Lukashenka maintained the same policies that had served him relatively well in the past.

Although I analyse protest in the section on repression, it is important to mention here two earlier protests in 2011 and 2017 to explain the demise of the regime’s performance legitimacy. Inspired by the Arab Spring (Korotaev et al. 2019, p. 60), Belarusian activists began a series of clapping protests. A non-marching chain of clapping protesters along the streets of Minsk in 2011 challenged the regime, as arresting them only for clapping made the regime look repressive. The protests were largely limited to Minsk, though some regional cities, such as Brest and Homel, had demonstrations as well.⁸ Protests were organised and information was disseminated through social media. One of the main triggers for these protests was the increasingly poor economic situation brought about by the 2008 financial crisis and the authority’s reduction of public sector wages to save money (Bohdan 2011).

The first nationwide protests took place in 2017, sparked by the so-called ‘social parasite’ law. This piece of legislation allowed the authorities to deny benefits and generate a one-off tax on those that were economically inactive, who were sent letters demanding a payment of $250. This affected roughly 450,000 people from single mothers to old age pensioners and students. The authorities dubbed the legislation the ‘social parasite law’ but went even further, labelling those affected as scroungers (Wilson 2021, pp. 266–67). This single-issue mobilised people from all walks of life, who were suddenly taxed under the new law or knew someone who had been (Rudnik 2017). Nascent civil society organisations that had been allowed to operate under ‘soft Belarusianisation’ (discussed below) were further strengthened by popular discontent with this law, preparing the ground for the 2020–2021 protests (Wilson 2021, p. 267). The demise of the Information Analytical Centre (IAC)⁹ meant that the regime was totally unaware of how divisive the social parasite legislation was. The IAC had been used to gauge public opinion about prospective legislation and what could lead to protests. The authorities had developed relatively effective polling capabilities in the mid-2000s through the IAC, which analysed potential protest causes and tested all proposed legislation to gauge public approval.¹⁰ Lukashenka’s Press Secretary, Natallya Eysmant, decided the regime would be better served by having a social media presence. By shutting down the IAC, the regime blinded itself to several protest catalysts from protests to economic recession. It is difficult to imagine that if the IAC had still existed and polled on this proposed law, it would have found public approval of such legislation.¹¹ Such forewarning would have reduced the chances of the 2017 protests occurring, although the economic situation would likely have been another catalyst. Also in 2017, the authorities were attempting a rapprochement with the European Union (EU) and knew they could ill-afford to brutally repress protests. Therefore, the regime largely refrained from repression (Preiherman 2017) until the traditional opposition protest day of 25 March, when the authorities used violence to end the protests that year (McVeigh 2017).¹²

The 2017 protests were, overall, caused by regime callousness in its naming and imposition of the ‘social parasite law’. The authorities believed it was acceptable to call people ‘scroungers’. By attempting to raise money in such a crude manner and accusing Belarusians of parasitism, the authorities precipitated state-wide protests that galvanised society and civil society organisations widely. These protests resulted in the strengthening of civil society and the development of new protest and crowdfunding tactics; however, a stronger catalyst was still needed for mass protests.

This catalyst was the coronavirus pandemic, which caused another recession and further alienated people from the regime. Lukashenka called the pandemic a psychosis, stating that the virus did not exist since he could not see it flying around and claiming that those contracting the virus were either old or overweight (Kramer 2020). Russia postponed the 9 May World War II celebration, but Belarus held a mass celebration in central Minsk. State media claimed that only Belarus of all the former Soviet countries had commemorated the victory (Elistratova 2020). Unlike the rest of Europe, Belarus did not have a lockdown. Shops and restaurants remained open and, for a time, international interest in Belarusian football increased as it was the only football being played in Europe. By not acting, the government left citizens to their own devices. As had occurred during the 2017 protests, crowdfunding actions were organised in response to the pandemic, this time to provide respirators and basic medical equipment to those infected. The authority’s failure to react and care for the population significantly tarnished Lukashenka’s paternalist image (Pierson-Lyzhina & Kovalenko 2020). Lukashenka also unwittingly created ‘social cooperation and cohesion’ (Wilson 2021, p. 280) just before the presidential election; reacting to the pandemic brought together people from all walks of life and resulted in a growing perception, even among Lukashenka’s traditional constituency, of ‘the consequences that one-man rule can have’ (Light 2020).

Performance legitimacy, which was crucial to the regime’s survival, was thoroughly tarnished by 2020. Belarusians weathered three recessions in 2008, 2009 and 2014. For 26 years Lukashenka had created the perception that the regime, though not perfect, had the interests of most Belarusians at heart by guaranteeing jobs, wages, decent health care and stability. This perception—largely an illusion—held throughout the 2000s and only ended with post-2008 stagnation. The regime’s mishandling of the ‘social parasite’ legislation and the pandemic created a system of self-reliance and strengthened the role of private business and civil society organisations in people’s lives. The regime’s limited performance sapped legitimacy, forcing the regime to rely on repression.

Personalist rule

Some have defined the Belarusian regime as sultanistic (Eke & Kuzio 2000), with sultanism referring to a state with limited rule of law, weak institutions, dynastic secession, limited political pluralism, a strong cult of personality, economic success of businesses dependent on good relations with the ruler and a ruler driven by personal greed (Linz & Stepan 1996, pp. 51–4). However, Lukashenka’s regime—at least until the 2020–2021 protests—possessed ‘genuine popularity with the wider electorate … . Furthermore, Lukashenka’s ability to rule is not completely unrestrained’ (Frear 2019, p. 14). Consequently, this section does not just focus on intra-elite relations but also covers attempts by the regime to retain legitimacy with the electorate through pseudo-economic modernisation and control over soft-Belarusianisation.

Lukashenka was elected president in 1994 on a populist ticket, which has remained his presidency’s hallmark (Matsuzato 2004). This stance has allowed Lukashenka to maintain ‘a reasonable degree of genuine popularity with the wider electorate and not just a small circle of ruling elites’ (Frear 2019, p. 14) which partially explains his longevity. Also, for many, Lukashenka was the only leader they had ever known. Lukashenka used his knowledge of what most citizens wanted to offer them, at least rhetorically, a solution. However, I contend that this understanding has begun to break down, as Lukashenka is less able to act as saviour-in-chief.

As previously mentioned, society began to change with the 2008 recession, the rise of the private sector and the shrinking of the regime’s existing support base. The authorities had no answer other than to maintain the dominance of the failing state-controlled economy. Similarly, societal expectations changed; increasingly, Lukashenka’s populism, based on a combination of pseudo-Soviet rhetoric, closeness to Russia and the 1990s as a time of troubles, no longer resonated. Likewise, attempts by the regime to blame state failings on outside or shadowy internal forces were viewed negatively (Shkliarov 2020).

After the 2008 crisis, economic pragmatists in the regime began to initiate limited reforms to strengthen the private sector; however, questions remained regarding what constituted a private business and what constituted a state–private hybrid (Akulava 2015). These pragmatists were appointed partly because Lukashenka partially mistrusted the security services after their failure to stop the 2008 Minsk bombing (Wilson 2021, p. 224).¹³ However, it was likely that Lukashenka realised that the Belarusian economy post-2008 needed money and that modernisers would initiate reforms. Any likelihood that the technocrats would initiate a reform programme that would undermine Lukashenka’s overall control was limited by the appointment of people close to Lukashenka’s eldest son, Viktar who wanted gradual modernising reforms which would grow the economy and make the people better off but would not undermine Lukashenka senior’s rule. By placing this process in the hands of Viktar and his allies, Lukashenka kept control of any modernisation, knowing that Viktar had little support among regime personnel and so could not lead a challenge.¹⁴ The National Bank was professionalised and given more leeway to provide loans to new and private businesses, a high-tech industrial park was created and the IT sector was encouraged to grow (Rudy 2020). Although the private sector was heavily taxed, it was viewed—particularly the IT sector—as the best way to create a high-tech economy (Murphy 2020) that could provide the regime with money to keep the loss-making state-controlled economy viable and shore up its support base (Wilson 2021, p. 260).

Lukashenka rose to prominence in 1992 while leading an anti-corruption committee, which targeted then-leaders Stanislau Shushkevich and Kebich. Since 1994 the regime has occasionally pursued regime personnel on corruption charges to maintain Lukashenka’s popularity, allowing him to dress down officials publicly, often on live television. These anti-corruption initiatives increasingly resonate less due to the perception that Lukashenka is not concerned with tackling the issue and is himself the reason for such corrupt activities.¹⁵

The All-Belarusian People’s Assembly (Narodnoe Sobranie—NS) was originally established as a legitimation tool. It has been called upon by the authorities every five years since 1996 to assess regime actions over the five years and determine plans for the next five. Approximately 2,500 delegates attend. Lukashenka has called the Assembly ‘the highest form of democracy’.¹⁶ For many of his supporters, seeing delegates from their region whom they have worked with or knew legitimised the process.¹⁷ However, this institution has increasingly become an anachronism, perceived as another state structure that Lukashenka dominates. The workings of the assembly are televised; Lukashenka gives long speeches which are loudly applauded by delegates who agree to everything he says. The All-Belarusian People’s Assembly resembles the Communist Party of the Soviet Union, where only the most loyal were allowed a seat (Loiko & Chaly 2021).

The regime has sought ways to remain legitimate to the electorate through gradual economic reform and anti-corruption drives. However, by 2020 these initiatives looked increasingly threadbare. Another issue that the authorities try to develop for legitimation purposes is ideology. By 2006, the regime had fully consolidated power and begun to explore a Belarusian identity. With Vladimir Putin firmly ensconced as Russian president, any thoughts Lukashenka had once had of becoming president of a united Belarus and Russia ended (Kharitonov 2019). Having come to power criticising Belarusian identity for its close ties to Nazi Germany, Lukashenka tentatively explored a cultural identity post-2006 that put the state—and him—first. With Russian integration unlikely and Belarusian statehood assured, the authorities began differentiating Belarus from Russia. New identities away from Russian ties were explored, bringing the regime into contact with the history of the Polish–Lithuanian Commonwealth. Older government personnel who had had strong ties to Russia were removed and replaced with people who still desired close Russian ties yet identified as Belarusian first (Smok 2010). The Russo–Georgian war precipitated the exploration of Belarusian history before the Soviet Union and the promotion—or at least toleration—of a greater use of the Belarusian language.

Although a proto-Belarusianisation had begun in the period 2008–2012, such as with the Belarusification of school textbooks (Rudkouski 2017), it was Crimea’s annexation that really precipitated ‘soft Belarusianisation’. While Rudkouski (2017) correctly states that the regime instigated some changes that promoted Belarusian identity pre-2014, I agree with Boulègue et al. (2018) that soft Belarusianisation was largely a bottom-up initiative that the regime tried to hijack, pacify and mould for its own purposes. The Belarusian authorities particularly feared that a scenario akin to Crimea’s 2014 annexation could happen in Homel or Mahileu, with Russian little green men appearing in these oblasti and Russia holding referendums and annexing both regions.¹⁸ This fear was especially acute considering Belarus’s refusal to recognise the Crimean annexation despite increased Russian pressure.¹⁹ Soft Belarusianisation was allowed to flourish as it helped differentiate Belarus from Russia internationally and promoted a sense of Belarusian statehood domestically.

Soft Belarusianisation had started as a bottom-up approach where Belarusians ‘discovered’ the language and began wearing traditional clothes, such as the vyshyvanka shirt. The authorities eventually usurped this trend and adapted it. For instance, Lithuanian Grand Duke Algirdas was recast as an early Belarusian freedom fighter against Muscovy (Mojeiko 2015). Similarly, the old Kyivan Rus’ principality of Polotsk was now portrayed as an entity distinct from Kyiv and Muscovy, allowing the regime to contend that Belarus had a thousand-year statehood (Wilson 2018). In 2017, Belarus’s Eurovision entry was sung for the first time completely in Belarusian.

However, the authorities are averse to using more recent national identity symbols. The celebration of the 1918 independence of the Belarusian National Republic is tolerated, and in 2018 the regime even portrayed it as marking 100 years of independence. This represented a change to the previous dominant narrative which had framed Belarusian statehood as something created under Soviet auspices (Boulègue et al. 2018); however, more recent freedom fighters against Russia, such as Kastus’ Kalinouski, are opposition icons. In contrast to Algirdas, who is in fact largely unknown, Kalinouski’s uprising against Russia in the nineteenth century is deemed too close to the present. For a regime portraying World War II partisan actions and the Soviet Union as the basis of identity (Rudkouski 2017), a nineteenth-century freedom fighter is thought to be too antagonistic to Russia.

The growth of civil society was also a cause of soft Belarusianisation. There was a growing Belarusian identity, particularly among youth, and the growth of civil society alienated people from the regime. A growing number of civil society organisations were created to organise Belarusian language courses and cultural promotion (Boulègue et al. 2018). By not touching on contentious symbols, like the white–red–white flag, soft Belarusification became increasingly popular and resulted in growing support for a conception of Belarus as distinct from Russia (Rudkouski 2019). In the past, civil society groups had a difficult relationship with the regime; however, the soft Belarusianisation initiative meant that the regime had to tolerate these organisations. Support from private businesses also gave these groups greater independence (Mojeiko 2019). The regime believed that people were only interested in joining single-issue organisations rather than political parties²⁰ and thus allowed cultural organisations to function. In fact, this resulted in a strengthened civil society that helped organise reaction to the pandemic and 2020 elections.

The regime increasingly put emphasis on Belarusian identity as an attempt to differentiate Belarus from Russia. While the Soviet partisans still had pride of place in this identity, Russia was increasingly portrayed as the main threat to Belarusian stability. In 2015, Lukashenka managed to pre-empt protests during the presidential elections by claiming that only he could maintain stability against Russia (Wilson 2015). He played on fears of Russian destabilisation in the run-up to the 2020 presidential elections, arguing that Russia supported the opposition and was using these groups to destabilise Belarus. While this worked in 2015, it failed in 2020. Most Belarusians did not believe that Russia was behind the protests or that the naturally pro-Russian Lukashenka was the person to protect Belarus from Russia. The claim that 33 Wagner mercenaries—an organisation linked to Yevgeny Prigozhin, a close ally of Putin—were about to instigate a coup was widely disbelieved and after their arrest they were quietly released when no longer useful.²¹ The growth of civil society was a cause of soft Belarusianisation as younger Belarusians in particular created groups to promote Belarusian identity. Once protests began in June 2020, the regime turned full circle and portrayed the opposition as pro-Western, which caused confusion among regime personnel, alienated Western states and left Belarus dependent on an increasingly hostile Russian regime (Bohdan 2020b).

Intra-regime relations and how different elite groups work together is another aspect of personalist rule. Lukashenka has always balanced competing clans, promoting one clan before replacing it and retaining his role as final arbitrator. However, since 2014 competing factions of modernisers and silaviki have challenged Lukashenka’s ability to forge a single path. Post-2008, the regime needed money and began to remove silaviki from power, as Lukashenka saw the modernisers as more capable of bringing about economic growth (Wilson 2021, p. 224) and thereby keeping Lukashenka in power. One possible explanation for the 2010 crackdown after the presidential election was that the silaviki wanted to show Lukashenka that only they could govern and that the technocrats were weak (Wilson 2021, p. 235). This competition between technocrats and silaviki became a feature of the regime. On the one hand the silaviki were against any diversification away from Russia in foreign policy and opposed economic liberalisation (Wilson 2021, p. 270). On the other hand, the technocrats, who tended to be younger, wanted economic liberalisation and a more enlightened authoritarianism akin to that in China or Singapore (Plaschinsky 2011). This resulted in increased competition and reduced Lukashenka’s capacity to be final arbitrator.

While Lukashenka preferred elites who were both silaviki and technocrats (Smok 2017), he calculated that technocrats would improve the economy and help his 2020 re-election campaign. This calculation resulted in Lukashenka increasing his legitimacy among an emerging faction who became less pro-Russian accordingly (Hryniuk 2018). Through the technocrats’ limited market liberalisation Belarusian minigarchs²² turned into oligarchs; the regime hoped that this group could be controlled and support the authorities who had enriched them. However, it is possible that some oligarchs financed civil society, thus undermining the regime.²³ The government became increasingly reliant on revenues generated by the nascent oligarchy (Giczan 2020), who became more independent. These businesspeople began to fund civil society groups and were becoming increasingly independent of the regime. The appointment of silaviki member Raman Halouchenka as prime minister in June 2020 signalled the end of the technocrats’ power as Lukashenka feared a possible challenge to his rule (Shraibman 2020a). With this loss of power, it is possible some modernisers financed the candidacies of Viktar Babarika and Valer Tsepkala in the 2020 presidential election campaign.²⁴ Babarika was arrested for financial irregularities and Tsepkala fled Belarus fearing arrest. Babarika has led Belgazprombank and was close to both Belarusian and Russian elites and offered a modernist alternative to Lukashenka while keeping much of the existing system intact (Boguslavskaya 2020). Similarly, Tsepkala had been a supporter of Lukashenka since 1994, was in the diplomatic service and had been crucial in building-up the IT sector.²⁵ Like Babarika, Tsepkala offered continuity combined with modernity. Consequently, both were threats for Lukashenka which explains their arrest and exile during the 2020 presidential election.

Increasingly apparent regime divisions were restricted to the outer circles, while the inner circle remained united. At the time of writing (2021), the regime’s inner circle included Viktar Sheiman, who had been an associate of Lukashenka since before 1994; his two sons Viktar and Dzmitry; his press secretary Natallya Eysmant; former head of the presidential administration Natallya Kachanava; his former bodyguard Mikalai Latyshonak; his confessor Fedar Pouny; his personal doctor Svyatlana Kanshenka; and his tennis coach Siarhei Teterin. It is not known how involved the aforementioned are in decision-making, but Sheiman, Kachanava and Eysmant appear to be crucial, while Lukashenka’s sons appear to be outside this ‘inner’ inner circle; Lukashenka himself is also close to silaviki, with many of his personal bodyguard obtaining government roles (Tsaryk 2018).

The example of the two Natallyas, Natallya Kachanava and Natallya Eysmant, emphasises why the regime is no longer adept at adaptive authoritarianism. Kachanava, even after leaving the presidential administration, positively spun any information she gave Lukashenka.²⁶ As press secretary, Eysmant concealed information from Lukashenka that she knew would displease him. Having seen the role social media played in the 2011 Arab Spring and the 2017 ‘social parasite’ protests, Eysmant was convinced that the regime needed to attract supporters online to compete with alternative media. Furthermore, the social media networks Eysmant initiated were ineffective; the pro-regime Telegram channel Pul Pervogo attracted only 85,000 followers compared to the two million subscribers NEXTA quickly gained during the protests (Bohdan 2020a).

Lukashenka sometimes removed members of the inner circle and then reinstated them, but the inner circle in the run-up to the 2020 presidential elections had longstanding power. People like Eysmant—and, to a lesser extent, Sheiman—had built personal power bases and were no longer dependent on Lukashenka for their positions. One interviewee told us that Eysmant was working for the Russians and feeding Lukashenka misinformation.²⁷ While this is unlikely, Lukashenka became less interested in day-to-day politics and Eysmant continued this apathy by building ‘a “safe space” around the president, controlling his information space’ (Wilson 2021, p. 294). Since 2010 there had been no significant protest during elections and there was growing popular apathy. Societal changes and opposition in the run-up to the 2020 presidential elections caught the authorities unaware.

Prior to the 2020 presidential elections Lukashenka’s patrician image no longer resonated with a rapidly changing society. Although Lukashenka’s electoral support was approximately one-third of the population until 2016 (Wilson 2021, p. 306), Lukashenka began to lose the support of the average Belarusian, if not that of the silaviki or his government. Lukashenka’s climb-down over the proposed ‘social parasite’ legislation in early 2018 made him look weak (Kysnets 2020). During the protests on 24 August 2020 a video posted by the state press service showed Lukashenka flying over protesters in a helicopter and shouting orders into a phone while holding a rifle. This was meant to portray a man in control; ultimately, however, the image conveyed fear instead of strength (Ilyushina 2020). Lukashenka’s presidential inauguration was not announced until after it had happened to avoid protesters demonstrating outside the Palace of Independence. This further solidified this depiction of a fearful man (Korelina 2020).

Personalist rule has changed in Belarus as the regime is increasingly unable to find a new legitimation tool to restore popular support. Although there have been some notable defections, such as certain police units and the Belarusian ambassador to Slovakia (Ilyushina et al. 2020; Heikkilä 2020), the security forces have increased their power. The soft Belarusianisation policy provided independence for many through meeting others with common interests and developing new groups to promote Belarusian identity. This gave new life to civil society. Similarly, there has been growing competition among different regime factions, principally between technocrats and silaviki. Lukashenka, however, has remained above the fray and still controlled both groups. The attempted liberalisation created new oligarchs who are more independent and can support civil society and politicians. It is likely that some funding for Babarika and Tsepkala’s 2020 presidential campaign came from these sources. The emerging oligarchy wanted the authorities to maintain economic opening while protecting their interests. Misinformation is crucial in explaining the increasing ineffectiveness of the regime. Without adequate information reaching Lukashenka, the highly personalist regime was unable to function properly.

Neopatrimonialism

According to Frear (2019, p. 16), Belarus is a bureaucratic patrimonial state ‘characterised by state-bureaucratic monopolies, super-presidentialism, extreme centralisation and populist/patriotic mobilisation’. This bears much resemblance to performance legitimacy and personalist rule analysed above and so I concentrate on intra-elite relations in this section. After 2010, personnel were increasingly appointed for their loyalty to Lukashenka rather than their competence or bureaucratic skills (Shraibman 2020c). Those who were appointed upon this basis were maintained in their positions rather than being moved around, which gradually created a system in which incompetence became the norm. I have highlighted competition between technocrats and silaviki with Lukashenka balancing both factions. There is evidence that either regime or external personnel who remained close to the authorities supported Babarika and Tsepkala’s 2020 presidential campaigns (Shraibman 2020c). People within Lukashenka’s inner circle were engaged in their own initiatives to enhance their power, increasing their ineffectiveness as they built up their own power bases, becoming more independent of Lukashenka and unable, or unwilling, to implement Lukashenka diktats. Overall, Lukashenka’s ability to maintain his popularity decreased.

As mentioned above, there were a few regime defections during the 2020–2021 protests. However, even though the technocrats have been isolated (Shraibman 2020b), they still remain loyal in 2022. In August 2020, Lukashenka awarded security personnel medals for ‘impeccable service’ against protesters. Unlike previous medal ceremonies, however, medal winners were depicted on live television with their faces exposed.²⁸ By publicly showing their faces the message was clear. If Lukashenka was going down, then so were they.

The 2020 presidential campaign, which saw the emergence of Babarika and Tsepkala, highlighted regime divisions: some groups wanted further reform through evolution not radical reform. Lukashenka’s traditional electorate ideally wanted greater social security and stability; however, by 2020 many had either passed away or lost faith in the regime’s ability to maintain living standards (Tokbolat 2020). Lukashenka’s new constituency in the state apparatus—including security forces, bureaucrats and professionals—remain loyal. They are well-paid and have access to state holiday resorts and spas (Wilson 2021, p. 305). It is too early to tell if the small number of defections will become a flood. At the time of writing this seems unlikely, as the neopatrimonial structures built by Lukashenka appear to be holding for now.

Managed pluralism

Lukashenka has historically been averse to political parties for fear of losing control. The Russian regime, by way of example, created political parties to increase the number of Russians voting directly and indirectly for the regime, yet, the Russian authorities have since lost control over some systemic opposition parties, like Rodina, which was set up as a controlled nationalist opposition party but took its opposition too literally (Horvath 2011, p. 8). In Belarus, pro-regime parties are instead used to mobilise voters and run polling stations and regional electoral commissions (Charnysh 2015). These parties are occasionally elected to parliament, with five systemic opposition parties gaining 21 of 110 seats in the 2019 parliamentary elections. Like the ‘independent candidates’ who took the remaining 89 seats, these parties are loyal to Lukashenka (Sheppard 2019).

Another tactic, used during presidential elections, was what Wilson (2021, p. 265) terms the ‘1 + 3 formula’. This pitted Lukashenka and, generally, Haidukevich and one other pseudo-opposition candidate against a real opposition candidate who was never the same person. This formula served the regime well and was used in all presidential elections from 2001 to 2015. However, by 2020, this electoral system had broken down, with the authorities blindsided by three apparent opposition candidates standing in 2020. As Babarika and Tsepkala had been aligned with the regime there were questions about how oppositional they were, but if either was supposed to be pseudo-opposition they escaped control. It is likely that some regime factions supported Babarika and Tsepkala, not because these groups wanted radical change but because it was hoped that their success would convince Lukashenka to continue reform (Shraibman 2020c). If the inconceivable had happened and Lukashenka lost, both candidates would have maintained evolutionary rather than revolutionary change. This precarious situation was increased by the emergence of the popular and vocal anti-regime blogger Siarhei Tsikhanouski who interviewed Belarusians on his YouTube channel about problems regionally, thereby gaining country-wide notoriety.

The 2010 presidential elections, which were followed by protests over Lukashenka’s fraudulent re-election, were the last elections in which the regime faced a threat. There were some protests after the 2015 presidential elections (Wilson 2015), but numbers were low because the opposition feared that Russia would use them as an excuse to annex all or part of Belarus as it had with Crimea. The authorities began a rapprochement with the EU after 2014 and could not afford a scenario reminiscent of the 2010 protests, which had ended the previous reconciliation. Consequently, the nominally opposition candidate Tatsiana Karatkevich was allowed to campaign freely. However, her message was mixed: while she criticised the regime for its economic failure, she also called for stability, in line with the regime’s election slogan (Shraibman 2015a). The likely perception among candidates and the populace that only the regime could facilitate stability helped Lukashenka get re-elected but may have given him ‘the impression of another easy ride in 2020’ (Wilson 2021, p. 280).

The 2015 presidential and 2016 parliamentary elections saw two opposition candidates enter parliament for the first time since 1995. This was an attempt by the regime to present a ‘moderate face’ (Shraibman 2015b). While few believed this was a sign of liberalisation, there was a general belief that the authorities were increasingly willing to allow some competition.²⁹ That view was shattered during the 2019 parliamentary elections, when all 110 elected parliamentarians were pro-regime (Kłysiński 2019). Lukashenka failed to see that society was changing and that Belarusians increasingly viewed themselves as citizens even if the regime still saw them as subjects.

The decade of stagnation, staged elections, and the harsh repression of protests at the social parasite law and the government’s failure to act against the pandemic alienated many. Regime divisions, combined with a lack of awareness of the country’s evolution, contributed to the breakdown of the managed electoral system. The 2020 presidential campaign highlighted that even the longstanding 1 + 3 formula did not work anymore (Wilson 2021, p. 281). Lukashenka underlined how out of touch he was calling people scroungers in 2017 and coronavirus fatalities fatties in 2020. Tsikhanouski toured the country and was met by large crowds, which emphasised his popularity. He was arrested in Mogilev and eventually charged for participating in an unauthorised rally on 7 May 2020. The next day the Central Electoral Commission refused to register his candidacy to run in the presidential election (Mishchenko 2020). After Tsikhanouski was arrested and replaced by his wife Svitlana Tsikhanouskaya, the regime continued to hound both and Lukashenka showed how out of touch with society he was by claiming that Belarusians would not vote for a woman and that if Tsikhanouskaya became president she would ‘collapse, poor thing’ (Kalinovskaya 2020).

Regime divisions, unawareness of societal changes and desires, and the failure of managed democracy contributed to the failure of the system of managed pluralism in 2020. Perhaps if the regime had allowed two or perhaps three independent candidates to be elected to parliament in 2019, many Belarusians may have seen this as progress; similarly, if Lukashenka had not gone for a resounding victory in the 2020 presidential elections but had accepted a lower percentage and recognised that Tsikhanouskaya had been competitive, many Belarusians could have accepted the result.

Almost immediately after the 2020 elections, Lukashenka began talking about constitutional change as the protests began to decline; however, he postponed making these changes, which in any case remained vague (Shraibman 2021b). It is unlikely that many believed his talk of change, which had been used in 2019 as a strategy to demonstrate pseudo-liberalisation to Western states (Liakovich 2019), and in 2017 to placate people after the ‘social parasite’ law protests (Wilson 2021, p. 266). The constitutional changes which came into force in February 2022 remained fluid: parliament saw some of its powers transferred to a new People’s Assembly which, while nominally representative of the electorate, was in reality ‘stacked with loyalists’. However, these changes were then re-written in February 2022 following Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, to allow for nuclear weapons to be stored on the territory of Belarus (Gershkovich 2022).

Coercive capacity

One survival practice regularly employed by the authorities has been repression. The regime has 14 different security forces which are well-equipped, well-trained and, most importantly, well-paid.³⁰ However, constant and comprehensive repression is expensive and it is cheaper to repress some groups to send a message to others while retaining capacity for a major escalation of repression. Silitski (2006) labelled this strategy ‘pre-emptive authoritarianism’.

The use of the state’s high-level repressive capacity has, at times, been constrained by external factors. With EU rapprochement in full swing from 2015 to 2017, the regime was aware that mass repression would end relations. When the authorities cracked down on protesters on 25 March 2017, many were only fined or spent a day in prison (Preiherman 2017). This reaction led to the perception that the authorities were becoming less repressive. This view was strengthened just before the 2020 protests, when an environmental demonstration in April 2020 in Brest did not end in the usual way, with police clearing protesters, but with the authorities negotiating a solution. This event helped contribute to the perception that the regime was less willing to use repression and resulted in more people being willing to demonstrate.³¹

The 2020 protests were innovative (featuring the hacking of government websites and use of social media channels), peaceful and largely dominated by women, with the three main protest leaders, Svitlana Tsikhanouskaya, Mariya Kalesnikava and Veranika Tsepkala all being female. This new female-led opposition galvanised a part of society that felt men had led the country in the wrong direction and that there needed to be a course change to a more democratic and fairer society (Nechpurenko 2020). These tactics forced the regime to rely on its last remaining strategy: crude repression. During the elections on 9–12 August, 6,700 protesters were arrested.³² Protesters recorded police brutality, people being dragged from their homes and off the streets, and the screams of those being tortured in prison (Wilson 2021, p. 287). These numerous records of state repression galvanised more people to protest. Since they knew that the authorities had the advantage of repressive capacity, protest tactics changed with demonstrations in local neighbourhoods. This sent out a challenge to the authorities to either allow the protests or repress them, which would be witnessed and spark further protest (Krawatzek & Sasse 2021). Still, the repression continued. Protest leaders were snatched away from their homes, the street or hospitals, having been taken there from protests. By the end of August 2020 the authorities had arrested over 12,000 people, with 500 cases of torture and rape as recorded by the Minsk-based human-rights organisation Viasna.³³ As the protests continued in March 2021, the regime continued to repress and arrest citizens.³⁴ People were arrested just for being physically near a demonstration even if they were not participating. These actions exposed regime supporters to the regime’s repression and reduced regime support further.³⁵

Conclusion: the end of adaptive authoritarianism in Belarus?

Belarus created a system that effectively developed best survival practices by further controlling the media space and civil society while repressing the opposition. These tactics have been copied by other post-Soviet autocracies (Hall 2017). Lukashenka changed policies quickly depending on internal and external factors, playing skilfully to most of his electorate to maintain the perception that he was protecting their interests (Ioffe 2014a). He has been represented as a chameleon and a great survivor who remains flexible at all times (Wilson 2021, p. 300). Others have portrayed the regime as an example of adaptive authoritarianism (Frear 2019), having developed pre-emptive authoritarianism (Silitski 2006) and served as an example for other authoritarian regimes to copy (Hall 2017). However, is this still so (see Table 2)?

TABLE 2 Belarusian Adaptive Authoritarianism in 2021—The End of a Model?

Personalist rule	Lukashenka still heads the regime, but his inner circle are increasingly independent. People close to Lukashenka withhold information, leading to the breakdown of communication channels within the regime and between the authorities and the people. Lukashenka’s Sovietised rhetoric no longer resonates.
Neopatrimonialism	The regime remains stable with few defections, but competition between silaviki and technocrats has resulted in a silaviki victory, for now.
Performance legitimacy	The regime had legitimacy by guaranteeing jobs, wages and health care. With the economy state-controlled, the authorities could offer subsidies, good pensions, student loans and holidays in state sanatoria. The regime just about managed to maintain this economic support. However, three recessions in six years drastically reduced the money available to the regime to maintain this support. A decade of stagnation left many Belarusians feeling increasingly poor and the state was unable to reverse this trend. Policies, such as the ‘social parasite’ legislation, were poorly thought through and the regime’s rhetoric of ‘scroungers’ alienated many. This was made worse by the mishandling of the pandemic.
Managed pluralism	From 2001 to 2015 the authorities used the 1 + 3 electoral formula, which made elections appear competitive. At the 2015 presidential election Tatsiana Karatkevich was allowed to campaign without hindrance. At the 2016 parliamentary elections two opposition candidates were elected. This created the perception that the regime was allowing some competition. However, this was dispelled in the 2019 parliamentary elections when all 110 parliamentarians were pro-regime. This situation worsened with the 2020 presidential election, which was clearly rigged in Lukashenka’s favour.
Coercive capacity	The regime’s repressive repertoire is immense and has not decreased. The security forces, at least for now, remain loyal and are willing to use violence against protesters. However, those self-same protesters appear more willing to continue demonstrating and face state violence.

The 2020–2021 protests did not mark the end of adaptive authoritarianism in Belarus. Lukashenka has experienced similar scenarios in 2006 and 2010 and not only survived but also increased his level of popular support. While the present protests have been state-wide and involved all sectors of society, they have largely centred on Minsk and are mostly middle-class (Socor 2020). There were small numbers of state employees in some factories supporting the protests; one example was the MZKT military vehicle factory where the crowd called on Lukashenka to resign as he was giving a speech. However, calls for a general strike failed as state employees were more concerned with putting food on the table than protesting and risking their jobs (Simes & Saveliev 2020) and at least one third of Belarusians are likely to still support Lukashenka (Wilson 2021, p. 290).

Nevertheless, it appears that the regime can no longer convince most people that Belarus would be unstable without Lukashenka. In the build-up to the 2020 elections the authorities claimed that Russia was trying to destabilise Belarus and when this failed, moved to demonising Western states. Having blamed Poland for the 2006 protests (Ankudo 2007), the authorities rehashed the line of attack in 2020 by portraying Czechia, Lithuania and Ukraine as the main enemies.³⁶ This message ultimately failed to resonate. Talk of constitutional change failed to reduce protests. The regime claimed constitutional changes were in the offing in 2017 and 2019, but these were never implemented. In 2022 a referendum was held on constitutional changes which on paper decreased the power of parliament but in reality moved power from one controlled entity to another (Gershkovich 2022).

The authorities’ claim of an attempted coup by people acting on behalf of America³⁷ also highlights weakness. The announcement was made by the Belarusian and Russian security forces, but neither agreed on which date the coup was supposed to have happened.³⁸ The joint operation between Belarusian and Russian security services to stop the coup highlights the geopolitical trajectory of the regime (Samorukhov 2021). The repression of protests after the 2020 presidential elections ended any relations with the European Union and neighbouring Western states and gave little alternative to Lukashenka than to pursue further integration with Russia. This situation was exacerbated after the well-publicised 2021 hijacking of a Ryanair flight passing through Belarus to arrest opposition activist Roman Protasevich and his girlfriend Sofia Sapega. The regime is so focused on dealing with enemies that it did not foresee the widespread fallout of this act. It is uncertain to what extent Lukashenka knew of the security services’ hijacking of the plane until it had happened. It is highly unlikely that there will be any rapprochement between Belarus and the EU while Lukashenka remains in power. In the past society was divided into pro- and anti-Lukashenka camps, but the protests led both sides to unite (Shraibman 2021a). It remains debatable whether this is the end of Belarusian adaptive authoritarianism, but the regime’s governing formula is ‘increasingly threadbare’ (Wilson 2021, p. 277).

This article investigated whether the 2020–2021 protests signified the end of Belarusian adaptive authoritarianism. I constructed a framework to test whether this was the case. At the very least, adaptive authoritarianism is tottering. After recessions in 2008, 2009 and 2014, the Belarusian economy stagnated and hindered the authority’s ability to support the welfare state that underpins the regime’s social contract with the population. This contributed to growing disaffection and the consequent weakening of the regime’s performance, its main source of validity. Consequently, governing became increasingly difficult amidst a significant reduction in popular support for the authorities. The regime both attempted and opposed reform. Though the private sector was suppressed at various times, it was ultimately able to flourish and supported civil society, thus creating an alternative to the regime. By 2018 the private sector was the country’s biggest employer, weakening the state’s hold on the economy. The soft Belarusianisation policy hijacked by the regime allowed civil society organisations to become independent of the state, which helped them mobilise people in 2020. The failure of authorities to cope with the 2017 protests and the pandemic highlighted that the government no longer appeared to prioritise the people’s interests. It seems, for now, that performance legitimacy has failed.

Belarusian managed pluralism was epitomised by the 1 + 3 formula for presidential elections. This created an appearance of competitive, although highly circumscribed, elections. This formula worked from 2001 until 2015 but failed in 2020. Some competition was allowed at elections in 2015 and 2016, but even this was too much for the regime and was ended at the 2019 and 2020 elections. This contributed to anger and disaffection among Belarusians. Managed pluralism appears to be at an end. Lukashenka managed to retain the loyalty of regime personnel, although there is a growing divide between the silaviki and technocrats. Lukashenka openly sided with the silaviki, which contributed to the decision by some technocrats to seek political alternatives to continue reform under regime control. However, the regime remained largely united with few actual defections. Consequently, neopatrimonialism and personalist rule are still essential but less stable aspects of regime functionality. Coercive capacity remains crucial in the authority’s arsenal and repression has been key to regime survival during the current protests.

Adaptive authoritarianism may not have ended in Belarus, but the 2020–2021 protests likely marked the beginning of the end. Lukashenka is a chameleon with a record of adaptability, but he may have reached his limits. After the 2020–2021 protests, Lukashenka threw in his lot completely with Russia and backed Russia’s war in Ukraine in 2022. Having burnt bridges with Western states after putting down the 2020–2021 protests so brutally, there is little alternative but reliance on Russia. This puts Lukashenka in a difficult position. There is little alternative but ever closer integration with Russia, and should Russia lose in Ukraine then the Belarusian regime will likely collapse. After seeing Lukashenka brutally repress his own people in 2020–2021 it is unlikely that the Belarusian public would not take the first opportunity to remove him. Without Russian financial backing and victory in Ukraine Lukashenka’s days are numbered. Although he won the battle by repressing protests in 2020–2021 it now appears increasingly likely that Lukashenka will lose the war.

Disclosure statement

No potential conflict of interest was reported by the author(s).

Additional information

Funding

Part of this research was conducted when the author was a Post-Doctoral Researcher at the University of Cambridge funded by the Economic and Social Research Council (ESRC) Post-Doctoral Fellowship.

Notes on contributors

Stephen Hall

Stephen Hall, University of Bath, Bath, UK. Email: [email protected]

Notes

1 ‘Popytka narusheniya vozdushnogo prostranstva Belarusi’, TVR.by, 24 August 2020, available at: https://www.tvr.by/news/obshchestvo/popytka_narusheniya_vozdushnogo_prostranstva_belarusi/, accessed 30 March 2021.

2 Anonymous interview, online, 10 November 2020.

3 ‘Karach sravnila Korotkevich c “khomyakom, kotoryi govorit”’, UDF.by, 8 February 2016, available at: http://udf.by/news/politic/134498-karach-sravnila-korotkevich-s-homyakom-kotoryy-govorit.html, accessed 8 April 2021.

4 Anonymous interview, online, 2 October 2020.

5 ‘Is Belarus on the Brink of Financial Collapse’, Belarus Digest, 31 March 2011, available at: https://belarusdigest.com/story/is-belarus-on-the-brink-of-financial-collapse/, accessed 15 April 2021.

6 Anonymous interview, online, 29 September 2020.

7 Anonymous interview, online, 29 September 2020.

8 ‘Revolution through Social Networks: Trends and Figures’, Belarus Digest, 14 July 2011, available at: https://belarusdigest.com/story/revolution-through-social-networks-trends-and-figures/, accessed 15 April 2021.

9 The specialists on Belarus I spoke to were unable to provide a year when the IAC was closed. However, this centre would test citizen reactions to proposed legislation to gauge potential dissatisfaction. The social parasite law was passed quietly in June 2015. That the law was not tested for possible protest potential points to the IAC being closed in 2014 or early 2015.

10 Anonymous interview, online, 29 September 2020.

11 Anonymous interview, online, 10 November 2020.

12 25 March marks the anniversary of the declaration of the Belarusian Democratic Republic in 1918.

13 The bombing occurred on 4 July 2008 at a concert on Victor Avenue at the Minsk Hero City obelisk, wounding 54. A larger bomb was discovered which had not detonated. Over the next few weeks, the authorities arrested four members of the nationalist White Legion. However, it was not until the capture of two people involved in the 2011 Minsk metro bombing—where 15 people died and 207 were wounded—that the alleged perpetrators of the 2008 bombing were found. The fingerprints of the 2011 bombers were found on the bomb that did not go off in 2008.

14 Anonymous interview, online, 29 September 2020.

15 Anonymous interview, Minsk, 3 May 2017.

16 ‘Vsebelorusskie sobraniya kak “vysshaya forma demokratii” v Belarusi’, TUT.by, 14 October 2010, available at: https://news.tut.by/politics/200390.html, accessed 10 April 2021.

17 Anonymous interview, Coventry, 18 August 2016.

18 Anonymous interview, Coventry, 18 August 2016.

19 ‘Davlenie Moskvy na Lukashenko po povodu priznaniya Kryma stalo ochevidnym—Karbalevich’, Politring.com, 5 July 2021, available at: https://politring.com/country/42942-davlenie-moskvy-na-lukashenko-po-povodu-priznaniya-kryma-stalo-ochevidnym-karbalevich.html, accessed 16 May 2022.

20 Anonymous interview, online, 26 August 2016.

21 Anonymous interview, online, 10 November 2020.

22 Minigarchs refers to businesspeople who do not possess the level of wealth as oligarchs in Russia and Ukraine, but through their control of key businesses they have political influence even if this is circumscribed.

23 Anonymous interview, online, 10 November 2020.

24 Anonymous interview, online, 29 September 2020.

25 ‘An Interview with Belarus’s Top At-Large Opponent to the Lukashenko Regime’, National Review, 8 July 2020, available at: https://www.nationalreview.com/2020/07/interview-valery-tsepkalo-opposition-candidate-president-belarus/, accessed 16 May 2022.

26 Anonymous interview, online, 29 September 2020.

27 Anonymous interview, online, 29 September 2020.

28 ‘Lukashenko Award “Impeccable Service” Medals to Security Forces Following Protest Crackdown’, Moscow Times, 18 August 2020, available at: https://www.themoscowtimes.com/2020/08/18/lukashenko-awards-impeccable-service-medals-to-security-forces-following-protest-crackdown-a71184, accessed 16 April 2021.

29 Anonymous interview, Minsk, 7 December 2016.

30 Anonymous interview, online, 10 November 2020.

31 Anonymous interview, online, 29 September 2020.

32 ‘Human Rights Situation in Belarus: August 2020’, Viasna, 2 September 2020, available at: http://spring96.org/en/news/99352, accessed 17 April 2021.

33 ‘Human Rights Situation in Belarus: August 2020’, Viasna, 2 September 2020, available at: http://spring96.org/en/news/99352, accessed 17 April 2021.

34 ‘Human Rights Situation in Belarus: March 2021’, Viasna, 2 April 2021, available at: http://spring96.org/en/news/102738, accessed 17 April 2021.

35 Anonymous interview, online, 29 September 2020.

36 ‘Lukashenko obvinil Pol’shu, Chekhiyu, Litvu i Ukrainu v upravlenii protestami v Belarusi’, TUT.by, 3 September 2020, available at: https://news.tut.by/economics/699168.html, accessed 10 November 2020.

37 ‘Belarus: Lukashenko Claims he Foiled US-backed “Coup” as Two People are Arrested in Moscow’, Euronews, 18 April 2021, available at: https://www.euronews.com/my-europe/2021/04/18/belarus-lukashenko-claims-he-foiled-us-backed-coup-as-two-people-are-arrested-by-moscow, accessed 25 May 2022.

38 ‘Lukashenko obvinil amerikanskie spetssluzhby v podgotovke pokusheniya nad ego i synovei’, TUT.by, 17 April 2021, available at: https://news.tut.by/economics/726994.html?utm_campaign=recirculation_mail&utm_medium=right_news&utm_source=news.tut.by, accessed 19 April 2021.