Belarusian opposition criticized Lukashenko and Sunday’s election

Svetlana Tikhanovskaya refuses to call what is happening this weekend in Belarus an election.

“It’s a hoax,” said the exiled opposition leader. “This is a military operation; a game played by the state to hold on to power.”

For three decades, the country has been led by Alexander Lukashenko, who is in power, now firmly supported by Vladimir Putin who is using his neighbor in his all-out attack on Ukraine.

This Sunday, the people of Belarus will see Lukashenko’s name on the ballot paper again, along with four other names carefully chosen not to challenge.

No private viewers are allowed.

Tight control has been in place because the last time Belarusians voted for a president, the country was swept by mass protests.

In 2020, Alexander Lukashenko allowed Svetlana Tikhanovskaya to fight him, thinking that a politician – and a woman – would not make an impact.

It was a big mistake.

Tikhanovskaya, who decided to stand in for her husband after Lukashenko put him in prison, claimed victory.

When Lukashenko was given 80% of the votes, crowds of people filled the streets in the biggest threat to Lukashenko’s regime. The protests were finally ignored by the riot police by arresting a large number of people and using force.

The European Union then refused to recognize Lukashenko’s legitimacy as president.

Today, all important opposition figures from the period are imprisoned or have fled abroad, like Tikhanovskaya. Former Belarusian protesters fear peace.

So the opposition leader does not encourage them to take to the streets again on Sunday.

“We ask the people of Belarus to reject this deception and the international community to reject the result,” he told the BBC. “But I say to Belarusians, you have to be safe until the real moment of possibility.

“Because people live in fear, and the state is intensifying repression.”

You feel that fear immediately when you talk to Belarusians.

Many do not want to talk publicly about politics at all. Some ask you to change their names, and choose their names carefully.

Others inside Belarus communicate only through encrypted messages which they quickly delete.

They all say that open political activism in the country has been extinguished.

Bysol, a non-profit organization that helps evacuate those at risk, reports an increase in requests to around 30 or 40 requests per month.

As of 2020, the group has evacuated more than 1,500 people.

It also supports former political prisoners trying to rebuild life in exile after their release.

For Yana Zhuravleva, a veterinarian, that was difficult.

Before 2020, he was devoted to his work and did not focus too much on politics. But that summer he joined the big crowds, hoping for a change.

He was later sentenced to three years for “violating public order”.

“We were punished for everything,” he remembers when he was arrested.

He estimates that about one in ten women attended the protests. Like them, Yana was added to the register of those “prone to excesses and destructive activities”.

“You can’t go to the sports hall, only your letters from relatives and you get few visiting rights. When you complain you always hear the same answer: remember what you came for,” he tells me in Poland, there. he moved after his recent release.

Yana admits that it took “titanic” strength not to fall into deep depression.

“In prison, I barely cried. But when I was outside, I just wanted to cry all the time, and I didn’t know why.”

A few people I contacted mentioned seeking psychological help, after being interrogated, threatened or arrested.

They describe a security service that hunts down anyone with a loose link to the opposition, and demands the names of all those they arrest.

The pressure never ends.

A woman inside Belarus, who used to monitor human rights, tells me that she had to stop attending court cases because the authorities saw her.

If they can prove any connection with the banned human rights organization Viasna, they may be charged as “extremist”.

“I can do some acts of support, but I have to be careful,” he told me anonymously.

“You have a strong sense of powerlessness when you see all this injustice.”

Viasna currently counts 1,256 political prisoners in Belarus. Dozens were granted amnesty recently, but it was quickly reversed.

For those fleeing the pressure cooker of Belarus, there is the added struggle of knowing they may not return for a long time.

That is why Natalia, not her real name, decided to stay in Belarus even after being arrested twice for participating in protests.

“You are at great risk if you are on the ‘oppressed’ list,” he explained.

“You won’t get a job because you’re in a police station and the authorities are always watching you…”

For Natalia that meant getting arrested again, initially for walking her dog off the lead.

“They said I was angry and very nervous and waving my arms,” ​​he recalled, when he was arrested in 2023. He was arrested for ten days with up to 14 people in two cells, with the light always on.

He spent a whole week lying on the wooden floor.

“It really shook my sense of security, I was very worried,” said Natalia.

She is currently abroad and plans to return soon, to her cats. But his neighbors said the police had recently visited his home, looking for potential protesters ahead of Sunday’s vote.

Svetlana Tikhanovskaya believes that the continued repression shows that Lukashenko and his allies are afraid.

“The violence in 2020 is still there and he should remove any insurgency,” the opposition leader said.

“He knows that the people of Belarus have not accepted him or forgiven him, and they still want change.”

But he admits there is little sign of that in the short term.

For a while after Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine, Belarusians hoped that their neighbors might succeed in defeating Putin with the help of the West, and that Lukashenko would follow him.

Others went straight to the front line, choosing power after their peaceful protests failed.

But Ukraine’s military is now struggling to hold on and President Donald Trump is pushing for peace talks.

“The democratic world cannot allow Putin,” said Tikhanovskaya, describing Lukashenko as a danger to the world.

He allowed Russia to launch missiles into Ukraine from Belarus and send its tanks to his territory.

He also allowed the free flow of migrants to the Polish border and to the EU.

“You allow Putin to use nuclear weapons and his army in Belarus, and it’s a very short way to Poland and Lithuania,” Tikhanovskaya said.

“He and Putin are two, and they support other dictators. He is part of this chain of evil.”

There is no doubt that Sunday’s return of Alexander Lukashenko will go according to his plan.

“Those people are very talented,” explained Yana, a former political prisoner.

“They really wasted the power of the protest.”

Now he is trying to return to his work as a veterinarian, but in Poland, and recover from three difficult years in prison.

Those I spoke to now see Lukashenko stepping down, or eventually dying, as their best hope for democracy.

At the moment, many are changing the focus: there has been a surge of interest in reviving the Belarusian culture and language, the cause of opposition. That is what many dare to do in such situations.

“No one says clearly, but we feel like there are no hopes. There is depression,” Natalia admits.

But there is no apparent regret, however.

Svetlana Tikhanovskaya’s life has changed a lot since she was thrown into politics.

Cut off from his homeland, her husband is also a political prisoner – held in solitary confinement for almost two years.

The opposition leader insists he still “truly believes” in the reforms.

“2020 was a big change in mentality in Belarus. I don’t know how long it will take, but that change will not disappear.”