It is easy to overestimate Russia’s soft power in Belarus over the past five years if one looks at it solely through the prism of war, integration, and the sharp increase in Minsk’s dependence on Moscow. At first glance, the logic seems straightforward: the more politically, militarily, and economically dependent Belarus becomes on Russia, the more extensive the advance of Russian soft power ought to appear. In practice, however, the situation is different.

Russia’s influence in Belarus has indeed strengthened — not through a sudden breakthrough, but through the consolidation of an already established sphere of influence. In the Kremlin’s eyes, Belarus has long ceased to be a territory that needs to be reconquered through the difficult work of shaping public opinion. On the contrary, it is perceived as an environment where Russia’s basic institutional, cultural, and symbolic positions are already strong. Moscow’s task, therefore, is not to win over a majority but to maintain the segments it already controls, support loyal networks, and prevent the emergence of an alternative vision for the future.

In this sense, after 2022, Russia’s soft power in Belarus became less idealistic and more instrumental. The stronger Russia’s “hard power” presence in Belarus, the less autonomous its “soft power” becomes. After 2022, Russia in Belarus is less about persuasion and more about consolidation. It is therefore more accurate to speak not of a surge in Russian soft power, but of its re-formatting.

Three Levels of Russian Influence

The pro-Russian infrastructure in Belarus can be roughly divided into three levels.

The first is the official and semi-official sphere. This comprises structures linked to the state, the Union State, and church and quasi-state projects. Their function is to transmit a consistent set of narratives: historical unity, alliance, the Russian language, a shared memory, anti-Western rhetoric, and the sacralisation of the Soviet and military past.

Within this framework, for instance, the Union State forums operate, where the central themes are shared historical memory, the Great Patriotic War, the fight against the falsification of history, and the idea of the inseparable bond between the two peoples.

Also part of this sphere are programmes centred on the Russian language and studying in Russia, official events for the Day of Unity of the Peoples of Belarus and Russia, and remembrance events for 9 May. This segment is aimed primarily at an older audience and at those who perceive the alliance with Russia not as a project for the future, but as the inertia of a familiar order. Its weakness lies in its archaic nature, predictability, and the almost complete absence of a new language of communication. Its strength lies in its institutional stability.

Implementation takes place through interstate structures and events directly overseen by the state institutions of Belarus and Russia. The formats for organisation, coordination, and promotion remain tied to the state hierarchy, official procedures, and familiar bureaucratic mechanisms. Coverage of such initiatives also predominantly goes through state information channels: the websites of the presidents of the two countries, parliamentary structures, the State Duma, the official resources of the Union State, and state media.

The second level is the project sphere. This includes non-governmental organisations (NGOs) — the Centre for the Development of Eurasian Communications, the “Union” Movement, foundations (the Gorchakov Fund, the Roscongress Foundation), media, university and expert platforms (the Centre for Analysis and Forecasting of Union Integration Processes at BSU), youth schools, and educational and public diplomacy programmes.

It is here that Moscow has achieved the most favourable cost-to-effect ratio. Such structures do not seek to encompass the whole of society. Their task is to work with an active minority: students, young professionals, loyal experts, regional activists, media figures, administrators — all those who could, in time, become transmitters of the narratives Moscow needs. After 2022, this level adapted quite quickly to the new agenda: moving from the traditional “Russian world” lexicon towards the language of Eurasianism, BRICS, information security, and regional integration.

The third level is marginal and only partially controlled (V. Bondareva, E. Mirsalimova, A. Agafonov). This is grassroots activism that is picked up and amplified when it proves useful. Its proponents operate through scandal, noise, demonstrative radicalism, and moralistic simplism: Russia is always right, the West is always hostile, and liberalism is degradation.

This segment is striking, but difficult to manage. For official and project structures, it can be useful in the short term — as a source of emotional pressure and a way to test the limits of what is permissible. In the long run, however, it cannot be relied upon, precisely because of the limited ability to manage it. In such cases, soft power easily slides into aggressive subcultural propaganda.

Today, the centre of gravity of Russian influence has shifted precisely to the second level — where loyal communities can be formed without venturing onto an overtly visible political plane.

This refers to projects by Rossotrudnichestvo, the Gorchakov Fund, the BRICS Project Lab – Minsk, courses for Belarusian NGOs organisationally linked to Moscow, and other similar initiatives. Crucially, Russian infrastructure in Belarus is not being scaled back but, on the contrary, is becoming denser and more regionalised.

Moscow is deepening its “soft power” by embedding it in educational tracks, expert networks, regional contacts, cross-border projects, and ideologised discussions about integration, security, and Eurasianism. One illustrative example is the opening of the Russian House in Grodno.

The main problem for the project-based pro-Russian sector in Belarus is a depletion of human resources and a recycling of the same participants. The same people appear in the media, at forums, in expert discussions, and in grant initiatives. Attracting new people is becoming increasingly difficult. The old expert networks are being managed, but not growing. In this environment, insularity among personnel, a decline in vertical mobility, and difficulties in finding and attracting new people are becoming increasingly apparent. At the same time, there is a group of active supporters who are unwilling to lose their political and financial perks: A. Dziermant, A. Piatrousky, S. Lushch, V. Gigin, and others.

Youth pro-Russian projects create the impression of renewal, but often operate within an already loyal or neutral environment. The result is a paradoxical situation: Russia has ample resources and a dense infrastructure, yet the scope for truly new expansion in the Belarusian direction is limited. The possibility of expansion has not disappeared entirely, however, as Russian influence depends significantly on the structure of media consumption.

Belarus: A Question Long Since Answered

Contrary to widespread perception, Belarus has not become a priority area for Moscow’s “soft power” in the sense of a contested territory that urgently needs to be won over. On the contrary, for the Russian establishment, Belarus appears too close and too embedded to warrant efforts comparable to those expended in the struggle for societies that remain in doubt.

After 2022, Russia’s “soft power” in Belarus did not weaken — but it did not experience a qualitative triumph either. It lost some of its autonomy, finding itself embedded in a much harsher architecture of dependency.

What This Means for Belarus

For Belarus, this means the threat comes less from loud pro-Russian campaigns and marginal figures than from the normalisation of the Russian framework as a “natural environment.” When Eurasian communications, educational exchanges, discussions about integration and shared memory, and joint media and youth projects serve as the backdrop, soft power ceases to be perceived as an external influence. It becomes a daily norm.

This is probably the main outcome of the post-2022 period. Today, Russia in Belarus is promoting not so much a love for itself as a habituation to the absence of an alternative.