How Belarus dissidents in exile abroad are pursued and threatened

Dissidents who have fled Alexander Lukashenko's rule in Belarus have spoken of threats being made against them and their relatives at home. Hundreds of thousands of Belarusians are estimated to have left their country since the brutal crackdown on widespread opposition protests in 2020, after Lukashenko, 70, claimed victory in presidential elections that were widely condemned as rigged. Among the exiles was journalist Tatsiana Ashurkevich, 26, who continued to write about events in Belarus. Then, earlier this year, she discovered that the door of her flat in the capital, Minsk, had been sealed up with construction foam. She guessed immediately who might be to blame. She decided to confront one of her followers on Instagram who had repeatedly messaged her with unsolicited compliments and views about the Belarusian opposition movement and journalism in exile. "If there are criminal cases [against me], just say so," she said. "I have nothing to do with that apartment - other people live there. Why are you doing this?" The man immediately changed his tone to a more official one, saying criminal cases were not his responsibility, but he could ask the relevant department. Then he made a request: could she, in exchange for help, share information about Belarusians fighting for Ukraine, especially since she had written about them before? Ashurkevich blocked him. In Belarus itself, tens of thousands of people have been arrested in the past five years for political reasons, according to human rights group Viasna. But hundreds of critics of Lukashenko's 31-year rule have also faced persecution abroad. Lukashenko and Belarusian state media often accuse opposition activists of "betraying" the country and plotting a coup with assistance from the West. Authorities have justified targeting activists abroad, arguing they are trying to harm national security and overthrow the government. Several people the BBC has spoken to have received messages and phone calls, sometimes seemingly innocuous, sometimes with thinly veiled threats - or promises with a catch. Anna Krasulina, 55, receives them so often she has become used to putting her phone in flight mode before going to bed. "I can see who's handling me - it's a couple of people. Or maybe it's the same one using different accounts," she says. She's convinced the authorities are behind this. Ms Krasulina works as a press secretary for Svetlana Tikhanovskaya, an opposition leader believed by many to have won the 2020 election, now living in exile. Both women have been sentenced in Belarus to 11 and 15 years respectively in trials held in absentia. Charges included preparing a coup and running an extremist organisation. Since such trials against exiled political opponents were made possible by a decree by Lukashenko in 2022, more than 200 cases have been opened, according to Viasna, with last year seeing a record number. This allows authorities to raid the homes of the accused and harass their relatives. Critics are being identified on photographs and videos made in opposition gatherings abroad. Many have now stopped taking part in them, fearing for their loved ones who remain in Belarus, says Ms Krasulina. Several people the BBC spoke to report their relatives being visited by the authorities. "It's terrifying when you can't help them. You can't go back. You can't support them," says one. None would go on record or even reveal any details anonymously out of concern that their families could be hurt. Their fears are not unfounded. Artem Lebedko, a 39-year old who worked in real estate, is serving a three-and-a-half year jail sentence for "financing extremism". He had never spoken out in public, but his father was an opposition politician living in exile. Breaking the ties between Belarusians who have fled and those who stayed behind is a deliberate strategy by Lukashenko's government, says journalist and analyst Hanna Liubakova, also sentenced in absentia to 10 years in prison. "Even if someone in Belarus understands everything, they'll think three times before talking to a 'terrorist'," she says, referring to a list of "extremists and terrorists" which the authorities populate with names of their critics. The BBC sent a request for comment to the Belarusian Ministry of Internal Affairs, but had not received a response by the time of publication. Some of Liubakova's own relatives have also received visits from the security services, she says, and property registered in her name has been seized. Everyone the BBC has spoken to believes the Belarusian authorities are seeking to exert maximum pressure on those who left in order to crush all opposition, wherever it is. Hanna Liubakova believes the persecution of dissidents stems from Lukashenko's personal revenge for the 2020 protests: "He wants us to feel unsafe even abroad, to know that we're being watched." One country that has proved particularly unsafe for Belarusian exiles is Russia. According to authorities in Minsk, in 2022 alone Russia extradited 16 people accused of "extremist crimes", a charge usually associated with Lukashenko critics. "The methods used by Belarusian security forces are very similar to those of the Soviet KGB, just updated with modern technology, says Andrei Strizhak, head of Bysol, a group that supports Belarusian activists. Threatening messages or promises of rewards for co-operation may not work on everyone, he adds. But by casting a wide net, the authorities may get a few who agree to share some useful information. Strizhak calls the regime's efforts to hunt dissidents abroad a "war of attrition" that leaves many activists exhausted and wishing to get on with their lives. "We're doing everything we can to stay resilient," Strizhak says, "but every year, it takes more and more effort."