A month before the local and parliamentary elections, it is clear that Minsk has no intention to imitate democracy and is determined to handpick the candidates to fill in the seats at the House of Representatives and local soviets (elected councils). If something goes wrong, election officials can push the alarm button.
Fewer candidates
Belarus’ executive branch has selected and appointed members of the parliament for two decades already. No doubt, the final list is subject to Alaksandar Łukašenka’s approval.
But until 2020, the Belarusian ruler allowed opponents to run races. In 2016, during a political thaw, he awarded parliamentary seats to nationalist activist Alona Anisim and moderate opposition politician Hanna Kanapackaja. The two surely could not stop the parliament from rubberstamping government decisions, but at least lent the legislature an air of pluralism.
In the run-up to the February 25 vote, no opposition members have been registered among the candidates. The government has criminalized dissent and outlawed all opposition parties and hundreds of NGOs. Prominent opposition politicians are either in jail or abroad. The remaining ones keep a low profile. Belarus is approaching the elections with a military discipline and without a slightest chance of debate.
On January 15, the central election commission reported that a total of 298 candidates have been nominated for 110 seats in the House of Representatives, 2.7 per seat on average. More than 700 candidates were running in 2019, or 6.4 per seat.
All nominees have been carefully selected, are loyal to Łukašenka, obedient and ready to serve. They include members of pro-government parties and trade unions, bureaucrats, law enforcers and propagandists. The acting head of presidential administration, Ihar Sierhiajenka, and Labor Minister Iryna Kaścievič are also in the mix.
The bidders will be screened until January 30, Ihar Karpienka, the top election official, said. Not all of them will qualify.
No doubt that in the end, the ballots will contain exactly as many names as necessary to perform the ritual.
Karpienka: We hold elections for ourselves
Realizing that there is no chance of selling the elections as democratic to the West, the government did not bother inviting observers from the Organization for Security and Cooperation in Europe (OSCE), but invited officials from Russia and other friendly countries.
Commenting on the decision to leave the OSCE out, Karpienka said, what’s the point if “we hold elections for ourselves in the first place” as if he was arranging a corporate party, not a nation-wide poll, in which the adult population would be expected to take part.
The OSCE expressed “deep concern” as usual.
The law enforcement agencies are preparing for the elections as if it were a special operation. The establishment’s goal is to ensure the distribution of parliamentary seats to hand-picked people as quietly as possible.
Interior Minister Ivan Kubrakoŭ announced on January 13 that “alarm buttons will be installed at each polling station,” – just like the ones that bank employees use in armed robberies. He added that video surveillance systems have already been installed outside all polling stations.
On the day of voting, he said, 50 employees will be watching monitors to control all polling stations in Minsk in real time. “In case of the slightest danger . . . rapid response groups” will be deployed to reinforce the police on duty to suppress possible “violations of public order.”
Law enforcers have recently been talking a lot about the elections. For example, on January 17, Deputy Interior Minister Genadz Kazakevič discussed with his subordinates ways to counteract “extremist activities” during voting. On the same day Karpienka talked to internal troops and border officers about voting procedures at military units.
The identities of election commissioners are now classified, apparently for their safety. Belarusians can no longer vote abroad, probably because the police cannot send a rapid response squad there in an emergency. And, of course, no independent observers are allowed to monitor the vote.
Minsk has done its best to ensure that nothing threatens “the preservation of the constitutional order,” as Łukašenka and his cronies put it.
Is there a threat? From officials’ point of view, apparently, there is.
Lack of flexibility
Belarusian agencies are not flexible, so they seem to be overdoing it. Indoctrination is fed in monster doses everywhere, starting from kindergartens.
In the economy, the government controls prices with brutal force, prosecuting store managers for failure to comply.
In politics, it eradicates dissent, sacks civil servants for likes in social networks and raid businesses. Officials consider the heavy-handed approach to be most effective. Actually, they cannot do it in any other way.
They would not leave anything to chance. Karpenka is taking his first major exam as head of the central election commission. For Kubrakoŭ, this is also his first stress test. After 2020, many new officials joined Łukašenka’s cohort, and they do not want to repeat the mistakes of their predecessors. Their careers depend on elegant victories of candidates selected by the executive.
Deeply scarred by 2020 protests, Minsk is preparing for the elections as if for war. The regime had a narrow escape in 2020, so it is determined to prevent it from happening again, heal the psychological scars and take revenge.
After the 2020 nightmare, the government held a constitutional referendum in February 2022. Although the proposed amendments were adopted, protests broke out anyway, this time against the Russian invasion of Ukraine. More than 1,000 protesters were jailed.
Łukašenka talks about presidential election in church
Łukašenka’s fears are not only rooted in the past. He understands perfectly well that a parliamentary election is not an event that energizes voters because the parliament has never played a role his system. Last year the election authority cancelled a turnout threshold to spare the government of the need to compel voters to cast ballots.
The regime sees the 2024 elections as a preview of the 2025 presidential vote, a dress rehearsal, a test that it must pass with flying colors.
Łukašenka is likely to run for the seventh time, although in October 2020, at the meeting with political prisoners at the KGB detention center, he promised the opposite. “Take my word, guys,” he said.
He has changed his mind already. That is why he often talks about the presidential election in public.
While visiting a church on Orthodox Christmas, Łukašenka described the parliamentary vote as the main event, for the sake of which “we must do everything we can to live this year worthily.” “They will train on us. And we need to withstand. They will train for the future presidential elections,” he warned in apparent reference to his enemies.
The presidential vote is due no later than July 20 next year, and anything can happen before that day. The war in Ukraine continues, and no one knows where the pendulum will swing.
Meanwhile, Minsk is not expected to achieve a breakthrough in international relations.
The economy is likely to go through hard times after the 2023 recovery. However, the economic dependence on Russia is growing and may entail political costs.
Before the 2025 elections, Łukašenka must form and most likely take charge of the All-Belarusian People’s Assembly, which will complicate the government system and require additional effort to control it.
Besides, Łukašenka’s health fails from time to time, giving rise to rumors about overdue succession. The rumors have been fanned by the newly adopted security guarantees for the head of state and the reinstatement of a two-term limit on presidents.
Time is running fast, and too many things will be happening soon. The price of error has increased so much that Minsk cannot afford mistakes, and therefore imitated democracy is not a priority at this point.