Why the West still misunderstands Belarus's role in Russia's war

Alaksandar Klacko recalls the first days of Russia's full-scale invasion without any romanticism. For him, the war began the moment he realized that missiles striking Ukrainian cities were being launched from the territory of his own country. Soon afterward, he joined the Belarusian volunteers of the Kalinouski Regiment fighting on Ukraine's side. He was later wounded and now lives in Lithuania.

"We understood that we were defending not only Ukraine. We were defending the future of Belarus as well," he says.

His story captures the contradiction that has shaped Belarus since February 2022. On one hand, Belarus became a crucial rear base for Russia's invasion: Russian troops attacked Kyiv from its territory, Belarusian infrastructure supports Russian logistics, military equipment is repaired there, and Russian soldiers receive treatment in Belarusian hospitals. On the other hand, thousands of Belarusians volunteered to help Ukrainian refugees, hundreds joined Ukrainian military units, and independent surveys consistently showed strong opposition to Belarus entering the war directly.

Yet this distinction has largely disappeared from western analysis.

Belarus is increasingly portrayed as little more than an extension of Russian foreign policy. This reflects an undeniable reality: the Lukashenka regime has become deeply integrated into Russia's war effort and, under international law, Belarus is complicit in the aggression against Ukraine. But this has also encouraged a broader assumption – that the interests of the regime, the Belarusian state and Belarusian society are essentially the same.

That assumption obscures one of the most important political dynamics inside Belarus. While the regime has supported Russia's invasion, Belarusian society has largely rejected direct participation in the war. Understanding this gap is essential not only for interpreting Lukashenka's decisions but also for thinking about Belarus's place in Europe's future security architecture.

Belarus being part of Russia's war is just one part of the story

In recent weeks, the question of Belarus’s role in the war has once again come to the fore. After Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy stated that Russia was using navigation and communication systems located on Belarusian territory to strike Ukraine, he publicly demanded that Alyaksandr Lukashenka stop their operation, threatening to destroy the facilities otherwise. Although Zelenskyy later reported that the equipment had been turned off, the situation itself once again returned Belarus to the headlines of international media and revived a familiar question: could Minsk become a direct participant in the war?

Such questions have arisen regularly since February 2022. Every time Russia increases military activity or large-scale exercises are held on Belarusian territory, western analysts again discuss the likelihood of a new offensive from the north of Ukraine. Belarus is perceived primarily as a potential Russian military springboard.

This framing is quite understandable. If one judges solely by the actions of the Belarusian state, Belarus has indeed become one of the most important elements of the Russian military campaign.

In January and February 2022, under the pretext of joint exercises, about 30,000 Russian servicemen were concentrated on Belarusian territory. It was from there that the advance on Kyiv began — the shortest invasion route on which the Russian command placed special bets. Russian troops used Belarusian airfields in Machulishchi, Baranovichi, and Lida, as well as radar stations and transport infrastructure. According to Ukrainian monitoring, in the first months of the war alone, at least 631 missiles were launched from Belarusian territory at Ukrainian cities.

Cooperation was not limited to the first weeks of the invasion. Belarus transferred part of its equipment and ammunition from its stockpiles to Russia, provided enterprises for the repair of damaged equipment, provided railway routes for supplying Russian troops, and gradually turned into an important element of the Russian military rear. According to Ukrainian intelligence, today more than five hundred Belarusian enterprises are in one way or another involved in the production of products for the Russian military-industrial complex — from electronics and optics to the repair of weapons and the production of components.

Another symbol of this dependence was the deployment of Russian tactical nuclear weapons. For the first time since the collapse of the Soviet Union, Belarus has once again become a country on whose territory Russian nuclear warheads are located. Joint exercises using non-strategic nuclear weapons only cemented this role in Moscow’s strategy of nuclear blackmail.

If one looks only at these facts, the conclusion seems obvious.

Belarus is one of Russia’s key allies in this war.

“Belarus provides its territory, infrastructure, and resources to the Russian army. From the point of view of international law, this means complicity in aggression. There can be no two interpretations,” says the former Belarusian diplomat Pavel Slunkin.

But it is precisely here, in his opinion, that western analysis often takes a further step that is no longer so obvious.

Given the Belarusian regime’s participation in the war, the automatic conclusion is drawn that the interests of Moscow and Minsk completely coincide.

“This is the most common mistake,” says Slunkin. “Yes, Russia and Belarus are in the same military space. Yes, the regimes support each other. But this does not mean that their interests fully coincide.”

This conclusion has not only academic significance.

Indeed, it directly affects how Europe assesses the risks of further escalation of the war.

If Belarus has completely lost its agency and all decisions in Minsk are made by the Kremlin, the obvious question arises: why, over three and a half years of war, has the Belarusian army never once crossed the Ukrainian border?

This question is especially relevant today, when the likelihood of Belarusian territory being used again is actively discussed in the expert community.

The answer is not that Alyaksandr Lukashenka suddenly turned out to be a more independent politician than is commonly believed.

According to Slunkin, the Belarusian leader acts primarily according to the logic of his own political survival.

“For Lukashenka, the current model is almost ideal. He provides Moscow with almost everything except the most expensive resource — his own army. He maintains loyalty to the Kremlin but at the same time avoids a decision that could destabilize the situation inside the country.”

And the point here is not only Lukashenka’s political calculation. Moscow itself, according to Slunkin, is not particularly interested in changing the current formula of Minsk’s participation. When the question of sending Belarusian troops was being decided in 2022, the Kremlin was convinced that the operation would end quickly and on its own — there was no need to share the future victory with an ally. Since then, the calculation has changed, but the conclusion has remained the same: Russia does not need 15 to 20,000 unmotivated Belarusian soldiers against a Ukrainian army that has accumulated combat experience over three years of war unparalleled in Europe. A secure rear is far more valuable to Moscow: oil refineries that are not bombed, airfields and hospitals that operate without the threat of strikes, warehouses and logistics that simply function without failures. In addition, Belarus’s position remains an additional lever of pressure on the Baltic states and Poland. To exchange this quiet haven for a handful of additional bayonets that would turn Belarus itself into a legitimate military target for Ukraine would, from the Kremlin’s point of view, be simply pointless.

It is here that the difference between the regime and society becomes noticeable.

Lukashenka did not refuse to participate in the war. He refused only the form of participation that could threaten the stability of his own power.

And in order to understand why this risk turned out to be so serious, it is necessary to look beyond the regime itself and at Belarusian society — the part of Belarus that has practically disappeared from western discussion about the war.

The regime entered the war. Society did not

One circumstance that western deliberations about Belarus have almost completely left out is public opinion.

In authoritarian states, public opinion is often disregarded. When one person makes all the key decisions, it seems logical to focus exclusively on his motives. However, in the case of Belarus, it is precisely societal attitudes that largely explain why the country’s participation in the war turned out to be significantly more limited than many expected in the spring of 2022.

Independent sociological research consistently records the same trend: the majority of Belarusians do not support their country’s direct involvement in the war in Ukraine.

According to the latest Chatham House and Center of New Ideas surveys, only 14 per cent of respondents express direct support for the Russian invasion, while overall about a third (27 per cent) approve or rather approve of Russia’s military actions. Even more telling is the attitude toward the possible sending of the Belarusian army to Ukraine: only nine per cent of Belarusians believe that their army should take part in the war.

At first glance, this looks paradoxical. Belarusian society remains one of the most pro-Russian in Europe. As of November 2025, 44 per cent of Belarusians support a geopolitical union with Russia. For a significant part of the population, it remains the main political and cultural partner. However, this sympathy almost does not convert into support for the war.

The Belarusian sociologist Daria Urban explains that it is here that many external observers make a fundamental mistake:

“In the West, there is often a simplified logic: if Belarusians have a positive attitude toward Russia and choose an alliance with it, then they must automatically support the Russian war as well. But this is not the case. The high figure of supporters of a union with the Russian Federation is largely the result of people simply being left with no other choice. Under conditions of total isolation, Russia is perceived as the path of least resistance, as the only tangible reality, and not at all as a conscious ideological choice in favour of war.”

According to Urban, Belarusians’ attitude toward Russia and their attitude toward the war exist in completely different planes:

“Society is not sociologically monolithic; different groups of people live in non-overlapping information and value planes. And the fact that a person does not want their country to go to war does not mean automatic legitimization of Lukashenka. Belarusians are mentally not ready to enter this conflict. We have the popular expression “never again” embedded at the subconscious level, so people en masse will not go to fight.”

In her assessment, the truth lies somewhere in the middle. The average person adapts to the system not out of love for it, but because of the lack of an alternative: Lukashenka himself also does not want the direct participation of his army, but allows the regime to participate in the war only to the extent that it does not require the mobilization of society. He presents this line as his own main achievement — supposedly he “preserved peace”.

“Most people perceive Russia as a close state, but at the same time categorically do not want Belarus to become a direct participant in hostilities. For people, these are completely different, unrelated questions.”

After the mass protests of 2020, Alyaksandr Lukashenka’s regime found itself in a deep crisis of legitimacy. Russia’s full-scale invasion did not automatically restore it. Rather, a new unspoken social compromise emerged: many were ready to tolerate continued authoritarian rule only as long as Belarus was not directly drawn into the war.

This is precisely why Lukashenka found himself in a dual position: Moscow expects maximum support, but the decision to send the army would mean a head-on collision with the sentiments of his own society.

This does not mean that public opinion determines the policy of an authoritarian regime.

But it determines the price of political decisions.

This is precisely why, explains Pavel Slunkin, the refusal of direct army participation should not be perceived as an example of Minsk’s independent foreign policy.

“This was a decision not in the interests of Ukraine and not even in the interests of Europe. It was a decision in the interests of preserving power.”

As a result, a situation has arisen that fits poorly into the scheme familiar to western analysis.

The Belarusian regime has become a full participant in the Russian war machine.

Belarusian society has not.

It is this contradiction that explains much of what has happened in the country over the past three years: from the mass unwillingness to fight to the growth in popularity of the narrative that Lukashenka supposedly “preserved peace” for Belarus.

But if society differs so much from the regime, why does the West continue to see Belarus as only one monolithic object?

Daria Urban explains the roots of this blindness through how the West in general constructs information about the region:

“We recently conducted a study of the media image of Belarus and discovered a terrible thing: Belarus has no clear image in the West. Its society is perceived as some kind of monolithic organism, a single whole. There is no articulated position; Belarus is written about infrequently. But I would advise western analysts and politicians to look at Belarusian society in detail, to understand what kind of society it really is.”

Western analysis for three years has compressed the entire country to the size of Lukashenka’s bunker because it is simpler that way. It is simpler to impose blanket sanctions on a monolith than to deal with shades of grey. For a European raised in a prosperous state with the rule of law, it is physically difficult to imagine the fabric of life inside total fear. The volunteer Katsiaryna Shulhan views this gap between western perceptions and Belarusian reality even more harshly:

“I would like the West to finally understand: Belarus is a full-fledged dictatorship in the very centre of Europe. But to grasp this, one must truly realize what dictatorship means. When we tell Europeans that freedom of speech has been destroyed and people are being massively imprisoned, they nod, but measure it by their own categories. They do not understand how bad everything is and how hard it is for Belarusians to live with it. People raised in a healthy society are simply unable to descend to this level of understanding. For them, this is some kind of abstract abstraction — well, yes, lawlessness, well, yes, courts work by phone call… It is the same with war: until it comes to your home, you are not able to fully believe that it is possible. So it is with our dictatorship: what has become the daily norm of survival for a Belarusian is for a European an extreme, unthinkable nightmare.”

This inability to “descend to the level of understanding” of Belarusian “unfreedom” leads to a reality in which even the legal picture of the war in the West is replaced by poster slogans. The word “co-aggressor” turns into a synonym for a full participant in the war; “no protests in the streets” turns into “society agrees”; and a closed, repressive country in which even asking a sociologist a question is dangerous begins to be perceived as a country where everyone supposedly does not care.

Daria Urban sees in this a more specific, almost everyday mistake — related not to propaganda, but to the West’s own policy. The growth of sympathy for a union with Russia in recent surveys, in her words, does not at all mean that Belarusians have en masse fallen in love with this union.

“If society gravitates toward a union with Russia, this does not mean that it supports this union,” she explains. “It is simply that Europe has closed itself off: visas, bank accounts, any legal ways to get to the West have become practically inaccessible for ordinary Belarusians. And Russia is simply the path of least resistance when you have been left with no other road.”

Because Europe fences itself off from ordinary Belarusians with blanket sanctions, strict visa restrictions, and closed borders, it becomes increasingly difficult for people inside the country to understand what democracy really is. It is impossible to sincerely adopt and love democratic values by studying them exclusively from foreign textbooks.

“To understand and accept democratic values, Belarusians vitally need to see a rule-of-law society with their own eyes, to travel and communicate,” she says. “Barriers from the EU only conserve the situation inside the dictatorship.”

The unseen Belarus

If one looks only at the state, the picture seems simple. But shifting the focus from the regime to society reveals contradictions that rarely appear in western analysis.

Since the beginning of the full-scale war, several hundred Belarusian volunteers have fought on Ukraine's side. The exact number is impossible to establish; many remain anonymous to protect relatives still living in Belarus. At the same time, researchers estimate that even more Belarusian citizens are fighting for Russia. This inconvenient fact cannot be ignored.

Belarusian society is divided. But the dividing line is not where it is often imagined abroad.

Aleksandr arrived in Ukraine only days after the invasion began.

"For me, this was the second slap in the face from the Lukashenka regime. The first was in 2020, when the elections were stolen. The second was when my land was used to attack a neighbouring country. This is my home. No one asked my permission."

His decision was also strategic.

"I understood: if Kyiv falls, then Ukraine will fall afterward. And if Ukraine falls, then for me as a Belarusian, the chance to see an independent Belarus will disappear for decades."

For Aleksandr, the war has never been only about Ukraine. It is also a struggle for Belarus's future.

This is why he objects to the increasingly common description of Belarus simply as an aggressor. He does not dispute the legal responsibility of the Belarusian state. What troubles him is that the people behind the state have disappeared from view.

Recalling a European security conference, he says he urged participants not to make "a third mistake".

"Do not write off Belarus entirely. Do not write off the hundreds of thousands of Belarusians inside the country and in exile who consider the Lukashenka regime illegitimate and are ready to resist Russian expansion. These people may one day turn out to be very important."

In his view, the problem is deeper than politics.

"We know each other poorly. Ukrainians know Belarusians poorly. Lithuanians know Belarusians poorly. We live next to each other, but we understand almost nothing about each other. And when you do not understand your neighbour, you begin to draw erroneous conclusions."

Katsiaryna Shulhan's experience reflects another side of this invisible Belarus. In the first days of the invasion, she volunteered in Przemyśl, helping Ukrainian refugees with translation, accommodation and humanitarian aid.

"There wasn't a single thought about who was to blame," she recalls. "We needed to act in this situation, not figure out who was right."

She never felt the need to publicly explain that she opposed the war.

"The cause was more important than words," she says.

Today she coordinates assistance for Belarusian volunteers who fought for Ukraine, connecting them with Ukrainian veterans' organizations and helping them access psychological, legal and medical support. Through this work she has witnessed another reality that often escapes western attention: Belarusians who fought for the values Europe claims to defend frequently return to legal uncertainty, without veteran status, residence permits or institutional support.

This gap between the regime and society is also reflected in public opinion. Despite years of repression and the destruction of independent political life, virtually every independent survey conducted since 2022 has found consistently low support for Belarus entering the war directly. Even many Belarusians with generally positive attitudes toward Russia oppose sending the Belarusian army into Ukraine.

According to the former diplomat Pavel Slunkin, this is exactly what western analysis often overlooks.

"When Belarus is viewed exclusively as an extension of Russia, Belarusian society itself disappears. And along with it disappear the opportunities to understand the constraints within which Lukashenka makes decisions."

Belarus has undoubtedly become part of Russia's war machine. But the society living inside the country continues to follow a different political logic.

The future of Belarus will not be determined only by Russian bases, missiles or military infrastructure. It will also depend on the millions of Belarusians who will remain when the war ends.

If western governments continue to treat Belarus as a political monolith, they risk reinforcing the very outcome they fear. A society cut off from Europe and isolated by indiscriminate policies may gradually drift toward Russia not out of conviction, but because no meaningful alternative remains. After Lukashenka, Europe could find itself facing exactly the Belarus it assumes already exists: a country fully absorbed into Moscow's political orbit, with few remaining ties to Europe.

This prison that looks clean from the outside

Alaksandar Klacko crossed the border in February 2022 to fight not only for Ukraine's independence, but also for Belarus's future. At the same time, Katsiaryna Shulhan stood on the Polish side of that same war, helping Ukrainian refugees before she had time to explain her own country's role in the conflict. Neither expected the West to notice their choices. Yet it is precisely such choices, rather than Lukashenka's statements, that will shape what remains of Belarus when the regime in Minsk is finally gone.

Whether Europe listens to Aleksandr's plea not to "write off Belarus entirely" and recognizes the work of people like Kateryna, who have spent years building connections between societies where official diplomacy has failed, will influence not only Belarus's future but also Europe's security. If the West continues to judge an entire nation by the walls of its prison, seeing only the clean facade, it risks overlooking the people still living behind it. For now, time is working in the Kremlin's favour. But there is still time to look beyond the walls, while there are still people left to engage with.

Viktar Baranau is a Belarusian political scientist, investigative journalist, and civil society worker currently based in Poland. He specializes in Eastern European geopolitics, regional security, and open-source intelligence (OSINT) methodologies.