“Without us, you wouldn’t know…”: Inside the secrets Belarus wanted buried, until reporters exposed them

Since August 2020, more than 400 jour­nal­ists have left Belarus due to per­se­cu­tion. Around 30 inde­pen­dent out­lets have relo­cat­ed abroad. They con­tin­ue work­ing now in some of the harsh­est con­di­tions in Europe.

Crim­i­nal cas­es are being opened against inde­pen­dent reporters, edi­to­r­i­al offices are declared “extrem­ist for­ma­tions,” and read­ers, experts, and sources who coop­er­ate with them face prison. Inde­pen­dent media web­sites are blocked, bud­gets are min­i­mal. But despite threats, an infor­ma­tion block­ade, and finan­cial dif­fi­cul­ties, Belaru­sian jour­nal­ists remain in the pro­fes­sion and con­tin­ue report­ing on what is real­ly hap­pen­ing in Belarus.

To high­light this work, the Belaru­sian Asso­ci­a­tion of Jour­nal­ists launched the project “With­out us, you wouldn’t know…” It shows what facts, events, and prob­lems in Belarus would have stayed hid­den if not for inde­pen­dent media and jour­nal­ists.

In this arti­cle, we present some exam­ples. More about the work and impact of Belaru­sian inde­pen­dent media can be found on the project’s page “With­out us, you wouldn’t know…”

A drone detonated downtown, yet officials said nothing

Since the start of Russia’s full-scale inva­sion in Ukraine, Belaru­sian inde­pen­dent media have been cov­er­ing how Belaru­sian ter­ri­to­ry is being drawn into mil­i­tary activ­i­ty and the risks this cre­ates for the pop­u­la­tion.

One of the most telling sto­ries was the crash of a Russ­ian drone into a school in the small city of Khoini­ki in Feb­ru­ary 2025. It hap­pened in the city cen­ter, among res­i­den­tial build­ings, near the local admin­is­tra­tion, shops, and a library. At night, res­i­dents heard an explo­sion, and some areas were evac­u­at­ed. But no state insti­tu­tion report­ed any­thing, and the local news­pa­per remained silent.

Jour­nal­ists have locat­ed the like­ly loca­tion of the drone crash. Image: zerkalo.io

The inci­dent was report­ed by the Belaru­sian media out­let Zerka­lo, cre­at­ed in exile by for­mer jour­nal­ists of the largest Belaru­sian news out­lel Tut.by after it was destroyed by the author­i­ties. Even from abroad, the edi­to­r­i­al team man­aged to find eye­wit­ness­es.

“We pub­lished pho­tos, dia­grams, and local reac­tions. That was an impor­tant moment, because with­out us, peo­ple in the region wouldn’t even have known what hap­pened. We showed what an infor­ma­tion vac­u­um looks like. The author­i­ties want peo­ple not to ask ques­tions. But how can you pre­tend to not know when a drone hits your city?” said Zerka­lo board mem­ber Sasha Pushk­i­na.

A civilian airport turned into a military facility

Thanks to Belaru­sian inde­pen­dent media, details became known about the use of Belaru­sian ter­ri­to­ry at the begin­ning of the war as a stag­ing area for the attack on Ukraine. Jour­nal­ists report­ed on troop move­ments, airstrikes, and Russ­ian mil­i­tary deploy­ments.

For exam­ple, in Feb­ru­ary 2022 the region­al out­let Flagsh­tok from Homel report­ed that the local civil­ian air­port had effec­tive­ly become a mil­i­tary site. Read­ers, despite the risks, sent pho­tos and videos to the edi­to­r­i­al team. This revealed that after the start of the Union Resolve exer­cis­es, mil­i­tary flights began arriv­ing at the Homel air­port. Pub­lic flight track­ers didn’t show them, and offi­cial­ly the air­port wasn’t list­ed among the exer­cise sites.

Il-76 mil­i­tary trans­port air­craft of the Russ­ian Armed Forces at the Gomel air­port on Feb­ru­ary 25, 2022. Pho­to: Flagstaff

On Feb­ru­ary 21, 2022, the air­port came ful­ly under Russ­ian mil­i­tary con­trol. Civil­ian staff and local ser­vices were sent on leave. In the days before the war, res­i­dents increas­ing­ly saw heavy Il-76 trans­port planes land­ing and con­voys of armored vehi­cles leav­ing the air­port.

At first this was explained as arms deliv­er­ies and the evac­u­a­tion of the wound­ed and dead. But on March 20, the Russ­ian Min­istry of Defense pub­lished a video of For­post drone strikes on Ukraine. The footage clear­ly showed the drone tak­ing off and land­ing specif­i­cal­ly at the Homel air­port.

Flagsh­tok con­tin­ues to report on mil­i­tary activ­i­ty in the region, doc­u­ment­ing Russ­ian drones fly­ing through Belaru­sian air­space — infor­ma­tion the author­i­ties try to con­ceal. In anoth­er bor­der region, Brest, jour­nal­ists of the local out­let BGme­dia also report on sim­i­lar devel­op­ments: gov­ern­ment mil­i­tary pur­chas­es, the con­struc­tion of a new bor­der post, and more.

Belarusian ‘shamed’ athletes barred from the Olympics

When the Paris Olympics took place in the sum­mer of 2024, jour­nal­ists from the sports out­let Tri­buna tracked which ath­letes would be allowed to com­pete. The Inter­na­tion­al Olympic Com­mit­tee had spe­cif­ic require­ments, includ­ing that ath­letes not be part of mil­i­tary struc­tures.

But in Belarus, all ath­letes are linked in one way or anoth­er to the KGB, police, or oth­er sim­i­lar orga­ni­za­tions, explained Tri­buna edi­tor-in-chief Mak­sim Berazin­s­ki. Jour­nal­ists high­light­ed these issues. As a result, the out­let com­piled a “data­base of the dis­grased” of not only Belaru­sian but also Russ­ian ath­letes who sup­port­ed the war.

The IOC did not allow 9 out of 10 Belaru­sian wrestlers to the 2024 Games. Only Abubakar Khaslanov (pic­tured) went to Paris. Source: 024.by

From Rus­sia, only 15 ath­letes went to the Olympics — the low­est num­ber in his­to­ry. From Belarus, 17 par­tic­i­pat­ed.

Jour­nal­ists were also able to restrict ath­letes’ involve­ment in ide­o­log­i­cal events sup­port­ing the war. Pre­vi­ous­ly, this hap­pened often in Rus­sia, but Belaru­sian ath­letes also felt free to make such state­ments.

“When we sim­ply start­ed doc­u­ment­ing this and fil­ing every­thing, loud pub­lic sup­port for the war dropped sig­nif­i­cant­ly. And I think that’s a very impor­tant sto­ry in terms of lim­it­ing pro­pa­gan­da,” said Tri­buna edi­tor-in-chief Mak­sim Berazin­s­ki.

Citizens denied crucial updates on COVID-19 and nuclear plant problems

The Belaru­sian author­i­ties try to present a “pret­ty pic­ture” of life in Belarus in their con­trolled media, where pub­li­ca­tions are cen­sored and sub­ject to strict ide­o­log­i­cal con­trol. Mean­while, the pub­lic is deprived of vital infor­ma­tion that can direct­ly affect their lives. Such issues only become known after they are exposed by inde­pen­dent media.

For exam­ple, Euro­ra­dio was among the first to report on a crit­i­cal food short­age, pric­ing prob­lems, and the con­se­quences of gov­ern­ment reg­u­la­tion. And jour­nal­ists from Zerka­lo revealed that the Belaru­sian Nuclear Pow­er Plant (Bel­NPP) had stopped oper­at­ing.

“It was just a tech­ni­cal fact: the plant had been dis­con­nect­ed from the grid, but all the state media stayed silent,” recalled Sasha Pushk­i­na. “When a nuclear plant shuts down, that’s infor­ma­tion soci­ety must know. It’s a mat­ter of safe­ty. And when we write about it, that already has an impact. After our report, the Min­istry of Ener­gy was forced to admit that Bel­NPP was indeed offline.”

The most noto­ri­ous exam­ple is how the Belaru­sian author­i­ties hid infor­ma­tion about COVID-19 from their own pop­u­la­tion. They manip­u­lat­ed infec­tion sta­tis­tics, and mor­tal­i­ty data was ful­ly clas­si­fied and not pub­lished from 2020 to 2025. They stayed silent about short­ages of masks, ven­ti­la­tors, and inter­rup­tions in hos­pi­tal oper­a­tions. All this only became known through inde­pen­dent jour­nal­ists’ reports.

Belaru­sian nuclear pow­er plant. Pho­to: Min­istry of Ener­gy

One of the first out­lets to cov­er COVID-19 in Belarus was Viteb­s­ki Kuri­er News, because the epi­dem­ic began in Vit­seb­sk after local shoe fac­to­ry man­age­ment returned from a trade fair in Milan. At the time, the out­let became a cru­cial source of truth­ful infor­ma­tion for both res­i­dents and oth­er media.

Belarusian detainees made to work for German lawmaker

Despite pres­sure and harsh work­ing con­di­tions, Belaru­sian jour­nal­ists achieved break­throughs in inves­tiga­tive report­ing. This was pos­si­ble thanks to new oppor­tu­ni­ties to col­lab­o­rate with for­eign col­leagues, access to data­bas­es obtained by the hack­er col­lec­tive Cyber Par­ti­sans, and — most impor­tant­ly — Belaru­sians them­selves, even from with­in the state sys­tem, shar­ing insid­er infor­ma­tion because they are dis­sat­is­fied and want change in the coun­try.

The inves­tiga­tive media out­let Buro was found­ed in exile and has been oper­at­ing for only a year and a half. But dur­ing that time, it uncov­ered numer­ous schemes through which the Belaru­sian author­i­ties and allied busi­ness­men bypassed Euro­pean sanc­tions and even helped sup­ply Rus­sia with West­ern tech­nol­o­gy lat­er used to pro­duce weapons.

Buro jour­nal­ists wrote exten­sive­ly about hid­den busi­ness­es and cor­rup­tion in the Lukashen­ka fam­i­ly and its inner cir­cle. They also revealed that the Belaru­sian dic­ta­tor has an ille­git­i­mate daugh­ter. One of their biggest sto­ries was an inves­ti­ga­tion into the Belaru­sian Red Cross, which showed the orga­ni­za­tion spend­ing inter­na­tion­al grant mon­ey on an inflat­ed staff and cost­ly trips.

As a result, the UN announced it would cut ties with the Belaru­sian Red Cross. In Belarus, the outlet’s web­site was blocked just 30 min­utes after the sto­ry was pub­lished.

Anoth­er high-pro­file case was an inves­ti­ga­tion by Reform.news into plan­ta­tions in Belarus owned by Ger­man MP Jörg Dor­nau of the Alter­na­tive for Ger­many par­ty. His com­pa­ny used forced labor of Belaru­sian polit­i­cal pris­on­ers, keep­ing them in inhu­mane con­di­tions and pay­ing almost noth­ing.

How regional outlets use insider information to impact local power

It is cru­cial that the ecosys­tem of inde­pen­dent Belaru­sian media in exile has pre­served local out­lets. For many com­mu­ni­ties, they are now the only source of inde­pen­dent infor­ma­tion about their regions. Impor­tant­ly, they still man­age to influ­ence local author­i­ties.

A clear exam­ple is the news­room of Hrodna.life, which has been oper­at­ing out­side Belarus since 2022. Jour­nal­ists main­tained com­mu­ni­ca­tion with local res­i­dents and mon­i­tor moods and events in their city through social media and open sources.

For instance, despite being labeled “extrem­ist,” the out­let man­aged to force expla­na­tions from the author­i­ties when mon­u­ments to Belaru­sian insur­gents of the 19th cen­tu­ry, who fought against the Russ­ian Empire, sud­den­ly began to be removed in Hrod­na. After crit­i­cal pub­li­ca­tions by Hrodna.life, local offi­cials car­ried out hous­ing and road repairs and sus­pend­ed plans to build a giant flag­pole right in the his­toric cen­ter, oppo­site the church.

Even back when it still oper­at­ed inside Belarus, the news­room of Orsha.eu built a strong net­work for gath­er­ing infor­ma­tion, and it con­tin­ues to receive insid­er tips. For exam­ple, the out­let report­ed on a shock­ing case when Russ­ian police offi­cers crossed the open bor­der into the Orsha Dis­trict while under the influ­ence of drugs. One of them killed anoth­er right on the high­way.

Pho­to from the scene of the events from the press ser­vice of the Min­istry of Inter­nal Affairs of the Repub­lic of Belarus, pub­lished after the news on the web­site orsha.eu

The Belaru­sian author­i­ties tried to cov­er up the inci­dent, but Orsha.eu’s pub­li­ca­tion sparked a wide reac­tion. Peo­ple began dis­cussing in com­ments and on social media the prob­lem of open bor­ders and the threats com­ing from Rus­sia.

The work of region­al jour­nal­ists is often picked up by nation­wide media.

“It’s like small and big rivers. With­out the small­er ones, it becomes hard­er for the big resources to func­tion. Some infor­ma­tion would nev­er reach read­ers at all,” explained BGme­dia edi­tor-in-chief Vik­tar Marchuk.

For instance, BGme­dia jour­nal­ists uncov­ered impor­tant details about the con­struc­tion of a tox­ic plant in Brest and the sharp decline in the work­ing-age pop­u­la­tion in the region.

Pre­vi­ous­ly, Brest jour­nal­ists wrote a lot about res­i­dents’ protests against the con­struc­tion of a bat­tery plant — because of this, their edi­to­r­i­al office was deprived of its office. Now BGme­dia is not let­ting infor­ma­tion about a new tox­ic enter­prise in Brest remain silent. Archive pho­to: BGme­dia

But for small local outlets in exile, securing funding and attracting foreign donors is the hardest challenge. Right now, both BGmedia and Vitebski Kurier News have launched fundraising campaigns just to cover staff salaries, as their situation has become critical.

Belarusian-language content against the “Russian world”

Inside Belarus, a pol­i­cy of Rus­sian­iza­tion is being enforced: the Belaru­sian lan­guage is hard­ly used, and nation­al cul­ture, tra­di­tions, and his­to­ry are being pushed out of the pub­lic space. In this con­text, inde­pen­dent Belaru­sian media in exile play anoth­er vital role: pre­serv­ing nation­al con­scious­ness and iden­ti­ty. They do so through sto­ries that reflect a Belarus-cen­tered per­spec­tive on his­to­ry and cur­rent events. Even the mere fact of pub­lish­ing in the Belaru­sian lan­guage becomes sig­nif­i­cant.

One such out­let is PALATNO, which col­lects fas­ci­nat­ing facts about Belaru­sian lan­guage and cul­ture, offers engag­ing sto­ries about his­to­ry, and works exten­sive­ly with archives and mem­oirs. Did you know, for exam­ple, that Stanis­lau Albrecht Radziv­il, an aris­to­crat from a famous West­ern Belaru­sian noble fam­i­ly, helped John Kennedy become pres­i­dent? Or that the first pres­i­dent of Hawaii was Belaru­sian?

One of the hero­ines of the pod­cast “Land of Free­dom” — lit­tle Ros­alind sailed with her moth­er from Belarus to Amer­i­ca on a ship for 10 days. Image: PALATNO

Any Belaru­sian-lan­guage con­tent — and espe­cial­ly high-qual­i­ty con­tent — con­tributes to pre­serv­ing Belaru­sian­ness and dis­tanc­ing from the “Russ­ian world,” believes PALATNO edi­tor Zoya Khrut­skaya.

“I am con­vinced that we need many more diverse projects in Belaru­sian. Expand­ing the Belaru­sian-lan­guage space is one of the keys to Belarus’s inde­pen­dence and sov­er­eign­ty.”