Lukasjenko ställde upp – Putin kommer inte tacka

Belarus diktator Lukasjneko säger själv att hans förhandlande under Wagnerupproret förhindrade att ”slaviskt blod” spilldes. Men något tack kan han knappast vänta sig, skriver Der Spiegel. – Belarus är det sista hörn där det imperium Putin drömmer om faktiskt fungerar, säger journalisten Jakub Biernat till tidningen. Alexander Lukashenko managed to shine as a mediator in Putin's conflict with the Wagner Group. That triumph, though, should not obscure the fact that the Belarusian ruler is nothing more than a vassal of Moscow. By Jan Puhl 4 July, 2023 The Embraer Legacy 600 is a private jet for dignified business trips. And mercenary leader Yevgeny Prigozhin is also a fan of the aircraft. His plane, call sign RA-02795, touched down at the Machulishchy air base near Minsk at 7:40 a.m. local time a week ago Tuesday. The fact that Prigozhin was even allowed to escape to Belarus with his life was part of a deal brokered by Belarusian dictator Alexander Lukashenko after the Wagner rebellion over the weekend of June 24. In doing so, he claimed proudly, he prevented the spilling of "Slavic blood." Belarusian media outlets proudly crowed that Russian leader Vladimir Putin had spoken to Lukashenko on the phone three times that weekend. "I'll be quite honest with you – at first, I didn't pay much attention to all of this," he said during an address to military officials and other dignitaries at his palace long after it was all over. The Russian president, he said, called him on Saturday morning. "I advised Putin not to rush into anything," Lukashenko continued, sounding a bit as though he wasn't an autocrat dependent on Moscow's grace and speaking to one of the most powerful men in the world, but a wise father counselling his hot-tempered son in an attempt to prevent a temper tantrum. Lukashenko said Putin complained to him that Prigozhin wasn't even answering his calls and that there was no point in talking to him. "OK, just wait. I will try to contact Prigozhin," Lukashenko claims to have replied. In his version of events, it sounds like he practically single-handedly prevented the situation from escalating into full-scale combat. Lukashenko, of all people, is claiming to have played a decisive role in finding a temporary solution to the power struggle between Putin and Prigozhin. Indeed, it sounds almost as though the Belorussian leader, dismissed for years as a mere vassal of the Kremlin, is trying to profit from the chaos in neighboring Russia. Is he seeking to break free of Russia's tight embrace? Is Lukashenko the ultimate beneficiary of the mutiny? It seems unlikely that he had as much influence on the negotiations between Putin and Prigozhin as he is claiming. The actual consultations themselves were reportedly led by an acolyte of the Russian president. Lukashenko, by virtue of his office as head of state, at best upgraded the conversation in terms of protocol, according to reports. Prigozhin, after all, doesn't speak to just anyone – there has to be a president involved, even if he is Putin's vassal. Lukashenko has been in power in Belarus for 29 years. With his Soviet nostalgia and his planned economy prescriptions, the West initially regarded him as a post-communist oddity. But it was clear early on: He's a man who is willing to trudge over dead bodies to secure his rule. Since then, his regime has become ever more repressive, his population increasingly desperate. On top of that, his economy has collapsed and his dependence on Russia has grown – all because he has no other partner in Europe. He destroyed his international reputation when he rigged elections and cracked down on the opposition. When Putin recently announced that he was even planning on moving nuclear missiles to Belarus, it was certainly not meant as a boost to Lukashenko's lapdog status. Although the Belarusian pretends to have a say in when these weapons are used, the truth is that the launch codes are in the hands of Putin and his generals. William Alberque of the International Institute for Strategic Studies has described it as a "slow motion annexation" of Belarus. Increasingly, Lukashenko is becoming a mere figurehead for Putin: He might have a fancy title, but he doesn't really have any power. Lukashenko's former culture minister Pavel Latushka, who now lives in Warsaw and is a member of the political opposition in exile, says: "He is nothing more than a vassal of Moscow. His glory after the Prigozhin deal lasted only three minutes – a sham triumph." How long this triumph will really last, and whether it could be the beginning of an attempt at emancipation or the exact opposite, remains to be seen. Indeed, it is still unclear what Belarus can expect from mutineer Prigozhin, a guest who could still cause major problems for Lukashenko in his country. Latushka estimates that as many as 8,000 Wagner Group fighters may ultimately follow Prigozhin to Belarus. Most of them are former prisoners. This large number of fighters, many of them coarsened by the war, is an extreme security risk and is unlikely to do anything to improve Lukashenko's reputation, which is already rock bottom among the population. Belarusian political scientist Valery Karbalevich believes that Lukashenko is certainly garnering significant satisfaction from his current ability to pose as Putin's savior. But: "Lukashenko has absolute no use for a military unit that he doesn't control." Indeed, if Wagner troops were to use Lukashenko's country as a jumping off point for a future attack on Ukraine, Lukashenko would find himself drawn even deeper into the war. Thus far, it has seemed that he has wanted to avoid such a fate. The few polls that are available provide a clear picture: The majority of Belarusians bear no grudge against their neighbors, and it is unlikely that they are buying into the Russian propaganda about the supposedly fascist government in Kyiv. If Lukashenko weren't such a brutal dictator, it would almost be a tragic story of how he is desperately trying to break free from Russia's grip. For years, he rode a seesaw course between Moscow and Brussels: He offered a slight opening now and then, a little less repression, a few critical jabs in the direction of Moscow – and seemed to be interested in better relations with the West in return. But the European Union was never convinced. Over the years, sanctions from Brussels grew harsher, step by step. Lukashenko experienced one last triumphant moment in 2014 and 2015. He invited leaders from Russia, Ukraine, Germany and France to his swanky palace in Minsk for conciliation talks. But the agreements reached during those negotiations, Minsk I and II, never really settled the conflict in the Donbas region. And once Russia invaded Ukraine in February 2022, they became worthless. Today, Belarus resembles a black hole in the middle of Europe. Very little information leaks out, and even Belarusian exile broadcaster Belsat in Warsaw is able to report very little from the country. The opposition estimates the number of political prisoners in the country at around 2,000. Fear paralyzes Belarusians; even months later, one can be held accountable for online postings that run astray of the regime. Any kind of dissenting opinion can be considered "terrorism" or "inciting public disorder" and can be punished with draconian measures. The regime's oppression reached one of its peaks in May 2021. That's when Belarusian jets forced a Ryanair vacation plane to land in Minsk. On board were opposition blogger Roman Protasevich and his girlfriend. Both were arrested and sentenced to long prison terms – and recently given sudden pardons. Protashevich had stopped making critical comments after a temporary release. "The message is clear," says Ale ś Zarembiuk , who heads the Belarusian House in Warsaw, a cultural center of Belarusians in exile. "Lukashenko is saying: I'll get you wherever you are – but if you keep quiet, you'll have a chance at mercy. I am the source of justice." In Soviet style, Lukashenko is trying to get inflation under control and has simply banned price increases. Nonetheless, economists are estimating currency devaluation at around 15 percent. In 2022 alone, gross domestic product fell by almost 5 percent, the country's worst economic crisis since the 1990s. Belarus is only surviving because because Russia is supplying gas and goods. But not everyone in the country is starving: Lukashenko isn't an absolute ruler. He relies primarily on the security apparatus, military officials, intelligence services and police. They're paid above-average wages or given preference, for example, when looking for housing. To that end, the dictator has cultivated a group of loyal oligarchs whom he supplies with state contracts. In return, one built Lukashenko a villa in the pristine forests near the Polish border with a helipad and a man-made lake for swimming. Another set up a private clinic for Lukashenko's family with state-of-the-art medical technology. At least this is how a dissident who fled to Poland describes the system surrounding the dictator. He calls the security apparatus "highly corrupt." "There are about 1,000 people who are above the law," the dissident says, asking that he not be quoted by name. Even Poland, a European Union member state, doesn't feel safe from Lukashenko's grasp. "It is economic hardship and fear that has atomized our society. No one trusts anyone anymore." Recently, Lukashenko got an invite from Moscow to the celebrations commemorating the victory in World War II. He obviously wasn't well – he seemed waxy and absent, and was driven around in an electric car. After that, he wasn't seen in public for several days. Lukashenko is 68, overweight, and obviously doesn't pay much attention to his health. During the pandemic, he recommended vodka, sauna sessions and tractor rides to combat the coronavirus. Many observers wonder if the regime would collapse with Lukashenko's death. But experts like the Polish journalist Jakub Biernat don't believe that will happen. He says there are too many people in the country who benefit from the existing system. The people within the security apparatus could never allow an opening, because then they would possibly have to reckon with being prosecuted themselves. Most importantly, Biernat says, Russia would never allow its western outpost to become more democratic. "Belarus is the last corner where the Russian empire Putin dreams of is still functioning. And it is a model for what Ukraine will face if it loses the war: repression and dependency." It's possible that one of Lukashenko's sons would succeed him as president. The eldest, Viktor, is already on international sanctions lists for human rights violations; the second, Dmitry, is deeply connected to the system as an entrepreneur; and the youngest, Nikolai, was allowed to appear at his father's side in a tailored Soviet-style uniform as a child. A succession to the throne along dynastic lines, as in North Korea, for example, wouldn't surprise anyone in Minsk. Lukashenko, too, acknowledged in passing just how fragile his rule is. In his speech last Tuesday, he said: "If Russia collapses, we will be lying under the rubble and we will all die." © 2023 Der Spiegel. Distributed by The New York Times Licensing Group. Read the original article at Der Spiegel.