Lukashenko’s Culture Push, Opposition’s Cash Crisis

While Belarusian President Alexander Lukashenko engages in a series of high-profile public appearances to shore up his ideological platform, the country’s opposition faces a moment of reckoning, highlighted by the frustrated appeals of recently released political figure Siarhei Tsikhanouski.

Over the weekend, Lukashenko inaugurated the Museum of Glory in the Mogilev region, where he candidly framed his government’s focus on history as a strategic necessity. “A struggle is now underway for the heads and minds of our people. If we lose this fight, our time will be up. That is why we have clung to this historical memory,” he stated, acknowledging the deliberate adoption of Soviet-era methods to preserve what he deems essential traditions and principles.

Lukashenko continued his cultural tour at the annual “Kupalle” festival in the town of Alexandria, an event he has championed for 16 years. Here, his rhetoric shifted from Soviet nostalgia to a broader appeal to pan-Slavic heritage. “We are a nation with an ancient history. Everything created on our native land hundreds of years ago—the ancient rites, crafts, and holidays that we try to preserve today—these are our roots,” he told the crowd, positioning his rule as a guardian of deep-seated national identity.

In stark contrast to the state-managed celebrations, the opposition is grappling with internal fractures and a crisis of momentum. Siarhei Tsikhanouski, who upon his release promised to deliver a “powerful blow to Lukashenism” within weeks, issued a public plea for €200,000 to fund his plan. The response, however, was underwhelming.

Just days later, a visibly emotional Tsikhanouski released a second video, expressing profound disappointment with his supporters. “Belarusians will never return home if they don’t believe in themselves,” he lamented. “I asked you for help, and you donated a thousand euros. And you expect a powerful blow… It’s shameful and painful.” He accused his followers of passivity, declaring, “Someone has to come and do everything for you. Well, wait. I will continue to fight.”

Tsikhanouski’s outburst was met with widespread criticism rather than sympathy online, with many commentators calling his approach alienating and politically naive. Political analyst Alexander Klaskovsky noted that Tsikhanouski, after years in informational isolation, may have misjudged the current climate. “He decided to immediately be at the forefront on a dashing horse. And he immediately began to make crude mistakes—both political and purely technological,” Klaskovsky observed.

The expert suggests the fundraising failure runs deeper than just Tsikhanouski’s tactics. It reflects a profound disillusionment among opposition supporters after a series of failed initiatives, such as the much-hyped “Peramoha” (Victory) plan and the troubled “New Belarus passport” project. “Faith in the success of new ventures has been undermined,” Klaskovsky explained, adding that many who participated in the 2020 protests now feel they were drawn in by “beautiful slogans” but left exposed when the movement lacked a concrete revolutionary plan.