How has the legal profession in Belarus changed since 2020?

Published on 23 January 2025
The International Observatory of Lawyers in Risk (OIAD) has issued a press release announcing that Belarus will be the focus of the 2025 International Day for Lawyers in Danger.
In light of this, our project has prepared a brief retrospective of the developments affecting the legal profession and individual attorneys in Belarus since 2020 — both to document what has occurred and to remind the public why it is so crucial to keep speaking about it.
As we know, the human psyche does not respond so much to a constant background level of distress (people do get used to everything) but rather to sharp changes — the gradient— in conditions compared to what has been previously normal. That is why we become desensitised when, day after day, the situation remains bleak: when over 1,200 political prisoners are held in the country; when more than 130 attorneys have been stripped of their licences simply for fulfilling their professional duties with integrity; when at least six attorneys are themselves political prisoners — a jarring oxymoron.
Folk wisdom compares this kind of resignation to boiling a frog slowly: the change is so gradual that one fails to notice the danger until it’s too late.

Our project exists, in part, to make sure the temperature is clearly visible — to ensure the real state of affairs is neither blurred nor hidden. We aim to remind everyone how dramatically the situation has changed, and how profoundly wrong it is today.

2020: Why Target Attorneys?

Our website hosts numerous articles covering the numbers of attorneys subjected to repression, the methods of persecution, and the worsening conditions for legal practice in Belarus. Anyone can click the search icon and find the information they need. But raw facts alone don’t always reveal the deeper context. Why, specifically, did attorneys and the legal profession become the target of such intense attacks?
It’s important to understand that the Belarusian regime had long since achieved a state of complete subordination from the courts, the prosecution service, investigative bodies, and the police — institutions that now unquestioningly follow orders. One can debate the exact timeline of when judicial independence was fully dismantled or when competence was replaced by loyalty as the primary qualification for state service. But the fact remains: by the time the regime decided to punish society for its dissent in 2020, nearly every component of the legal system had been repurposed to serve the will of a single individual.
Initially, there was a willingness within the system to operate under the mindset of “sometimes the law doesn’t apply”. One can recall, for instance, masked and unidentified witnesses in administrative trials — something not provided for by law. Then came the willingness to issue rulings based on pencilled-in numbers on protocols. Eventually, lawmakers joined the effort, rapidly passing one unconstitutional law after another. Acts of resistance from within the judiciary or the prosecution service — those who chose their oath over obedience — were extremely rare, isolated to a few individuals who, it seems, had remained in the system by chance.

But attorneys were different. Not the institution of the bar (which proved just as useless in the 2020 human rights crisis as the courts and the prosecution), but individual attorneys.
It was attorneys who set up a legal aid camp outside the Akrestsina detention centre. Attorneys defended detainees. Attorneys took on cases the authorities wanted to bury. A significant number of them refused to fall in line. They rejected the “sometimes the law doesn’t apply” argument as a modus operandi.
This defiance was something the regime could not tolerate. Almost immediately, through the Ministry of Justice and complicit figures within the bar’s self-governing bodies, lawyers were pressured to play by new, imposed rules: stay silent; don’t speak publicly about violations; understand whom you are and aren’t allowed to defend; quietly accept infringements on procedural rights; forget the media exists; and, above all, don’t interfere with law enforcement by mumbling about legal norms and professional ethics.
In its characteristic fashion, the regime began to carry out targeted repression against individual lawyers. In our view, a turning point came on 24 September 2020, when attorney Lyudmila Kazak was arrested. Until then, detaining an attorney was seen as extraordinary — even in 2019, officials understood that they might one day need a lawyer themselves. Arrests required ironclad justification, beyond reasonable doubt. But this particular detention sent a clear message: attorneys were now to be treated as enemies of the state — no different from the protesters themselves. It became acceptable to fabricate administrative charges, give false testimony in court, and use any means necessary to suppress lawyers in the name of defending the regime. As of today, there are at least 30 known cases of attorneys being detained for political reasons, often involving violence or torture. Virtually all of these detentions — aside from some recent cases about which little is known (and which we discuss below) — were accompanied by falsified records, perjured testimony from law enforcement in court, and complete disregard for the facts when bar councils later voted to expel these lawyers. One need only review the case materials from the proceedings against T. Lishankova and V. Braginets to draw their own conclusions about the legitimacy of the accusations brought against them.
We consider the case involving Mikhail Kirilyuk (and other attorneys) and Olga Baranchyk to mark the opening of a second door into the hell of repression and the erosion of the moral-ethical foundation of legal practice under pressure from state orders.
To recall: for eight years, attorney Olga Baranchyk served as Chair of the Disciplinary Commission of the Minsk City Bar Association (MCBA). In October 2020, the Minister of Justice initiated disciplinary proceedings against MCBA member Mikhail Kirilyuk over statements he had made on social media. The Disciplinary Commission decided not to expel him from the bar. That same year, several other attorneys from the association — Konstantin Mikhel, Barys Lyeskowski, and Syarhei Pichukha — were subjected to administrative penalties for allegedly participating in unauthorized protests. Although the bar did not subject them to disciplinary measures, the Ministry of Justice revoked their licences in 2021. In March 2021, an extraordinary certification was ordered for O. Baranchyk. The Qualification Commission declared her to be "unqualified" — despite her 26 years of experience and ongoing legal defence of political prisoners. As a result, she was stripped of her professional status.
This sent a clear and unmistakable message about the rule of law in Belarus: that legal norms are subordinate to the regime’s desire to “restore order”. The legal profession understood the message — and from that point forward, there were no more disruptions.
Naturally, we must also mention the criminal prosecution of attorneys. To date, there are at least 11 known cases of attorneys facing criminal charges, including six who are currently serving prison sentences ranging from six to ten years.
Thus, beyond the direct repression of specific attorneys who provoked the authorities’ ire, a broader process was set in motion: the restructuring of the legal profession to meet the needs of the regime — a topic we will explore further below.

Systemic Changes in Legal Practice

This article does not aim to recount every event in detail, but rather to highlight key turning points and serve as a reminder of developments that, over time, tend to blur into one continuous stream. With that in mind, we will limit ourselves to mentioning only the most significant circumstances.
In 2021, amendments were made to the Law on the Bar and Legal Practice, significantly worsening the conditions under which the legal profession operates in Belarus. The most egregious changes include:
  • De facto appointment of all bar self-governance bodies by the Ministry of Justice. Today, if you see someone serving on the council of a territorial bar association or the Belarusian Republican Bar Association (BRBA), or acting as head of a legal consultation office, know this: in one way or another, their placement was determined by the Ministry of Justice. The views of bar members have no influence on these appointments.
  • Abolition of all forms of legal practice other than within legal consultation offices. Independent practice and law firms were effectively outlawed.
  • Simplified admission to the bar for former law enforcement officers, judges, investigators, and prosecutors. This measure often draws particular concern. However, our observations show that it has not led to a significant influx of such individuals. And that’s not surprising: today, these individuals hold power over attorneys — they can insult them or deny them documents, and no one will respond to a lawyer’s complaint. But if tomorrow they find themselves in the attorney’s position, they would need to hustle for clients and earn a living on their own. There’s little incentive to make that switch, which is reflected in the numbers — fewer than 10% of new attorneys come from those backgrounds. Given that the legal profession in Belarus has often served as an honorary retirement post, these figures do not support fears of the bar being flooded with former police officers. The more noticeable trend is the influx of complete unknowns — people with no visible track record, publications, or public engagement.
Other legislative changes reflect the subordinate status of the bar and its members. These include Ministry of Justice regulations and decisions by territorial bar councils that require:
  • Heads of legal consultations to monitor attorneys’ social media posts;
  • Attorneys to maintain office hours and report absences;
  • Attorneys to register foreign clients and transmit their personal data to the Ministry of Justice.
The revised Code of Professional Ethics, adopted by the Ministry (no longer in agreement with the BRBA, but in mere “coordination”), marks yet another stage in the silencing and subjugation of the legal profession.
One might ask: Why are attorneys silent? Why don’t they react?
Well, they do. In the first six months after the legislative amendments came into force, 216 attorneys — more than 10% voted with their feet and left the profession. Most of them came from law firms and private practices. This exodus continued through 2022–2023, not due to disciplinary expulsion or failed re-certifications, but out of conscious choice. Only by mid-2024 did the profession begin to stabilise, with the number of incoming lawyers balancing out departures, reaching a total of around 1,600. By that point, the legal profession had lost over 600 attorneys, including most of those listed in international directories such as Legal 500 and others.
While formal rules can be read and analysed, informal rules are shaped by the atmosphere created through daily statements, actions, and unspoken cues. These unwritten norms and conventions are often far more numerous — and more influential — than the written ones. They are summed up by the phrase, “you all understand how it works”. Such rules are difficult to identify and catalogue, but we will attempt to describe them here.
  • The Role and Function of Attorneys
Much has been written on this topic, including in our report “Crisis of the Belarusian Bar: How to Restore the Right to Legal Defence.” Here, we will highlight only the core issues.
In 2021, a new official narrative was launched: “Attorney as a State Servant”. In other words, serving the interests of the state, participating in government propaganda, legitimising Belarusian legislation, and tolerating human rights violations by the state became key functions assigned to the legal profession.
Bar communication channels became saturated not with news about resolving urgent professional problems — like access to clients in the KGB pre-trial detention centre — but with symbolic acts like laying flowers at the monument to pilot Akrestsina. Instead of focusing on human rights, the Council of Young Lawyers collaborated with GUBOPiK. It seems clear that participation in such activities is difficult to refuse. The spirit of this policy was perfectly captured by Olga Chupris, who stated: “Legal professionals should generally be prepared to join state bodies”.
Naturally, if a lawyer appears on national television in the morning to speak about the fight against extremists and the absence of freedom of speech, and in the evening must defend someone accused of “extremist” activity, this moves from legal practice into Kafkaesque absurdity.
  • “You Should Know Whom to Defend — and Whom Not To”
There is no official document — at least none that we are aware of — that forbids attorneys from defending Viktar Babaryka, Maksim Znak, or other well-known and lesser-known political prisoners. But the fact is this: not a single attorney has agreed to represent such clients or sign a defence contract in trials conducted in absentia.
This chilling effect is the result of deliberate, specific actions. For example, five of Maksim Znak’s lawyers were stripped of their licences. The same happened to the lawyers representing Viktar Babaryka. The latest warning shot came on 20 March 2023, when six attorneys were detained simultaneously — individuals with nothing in common except one thing: they had all defended prominent political prisoners.
It’s important to understand that the state cannot effectively conduct torture, mistreatment, and incommunicado detention without first removing lawyers from the process. No lawyers — no one to insist on due process, file complaints, or demand access. Our project believes that the deliberate targeting and intimidation of lawyers is part of the broader crime of persecuting political opponents. It's much harder to strip someone of basic rights when someone is fighting for them on the outside. If no one is fighting, then silencing the prisoner becomes much easier.
The nature of attorney persecution has also changed. Where once such cases were reported via semi-transparent sources, now — such as with the February 2024 mass arrests — the consequences can only be inferred from indirect evidence.
  • “No One Will Defend You”
In any normal legal system, bar associations are tasked with defending the independence of the legal profession, supporting attorneys in the exercise of their rights, and responding to violations of those rights and the erosion of defence standards. Not in Belarus.
Self-governing bodies of the legal profession actively participate in persecuting lawyers. Approximately one-third of all repressive cases against attorneys originate from the actions of these bodies. It was letters — some containing false information or distorted legal assessments — from Iryna Smirnova, head of the Minsk Regional Bar Association, that served as the basis for the expulsion of Dzmitry Laeuski from the Minsk City Bar and the criminal case against Andrei Mochalau. At times, the self-governing bodies appear more proactive than the Ministry of Justice itself in targeting lawyers. These bodies collaborate with the authorities by revoking the licences of lawyers charged with administrative offences of a political nature, while entirely ignoring others. With colleagues like these, who needs enemies?
The result is that every individual attorney knows: no one will step in to protect you if you demand the law be followed, file complaints, or go against state policy. Combined with the complete paralysis of the judiciary, this creates immense pressure to follow state-imposed rules instead of the ethical principles of legal practice.
  • Elimination and Censorship of Independent Information
One of the key strategies — both formal and informal — used to pressure attorneys has been cutting off the flow of information, both to and from the legal profession.
Today, it is virtually impossible to access information from legal proceedings. Attorneys do not communicate with clients in trials held in absentia. Lawyers — and often family members too — share no updates about ongoing cases. (This is a general problem, but lawyers, being a small, identifiable group, are easy targets for intimidation in each case.)
Comparing the volume of available information between 2020–2022 and now, one finds that there is almost nothing left. And the reason is clear: when any information from a criminal case appears in the public domain, the lawyer may be swiftly detained — perhaps even beaten — and the incident justified through a fabricated charge or protocol. There’s no need to look far for examples: the arrests of attorneys Makarau, Sahanovich, and Hulkova (initially accused of leaking case materials, which was never proven); the convictions of Anastasiya Lazarenka and Yuliya Yurgilevich, both allegedly for passing on information.
Post about two lawyers participating in a seminar on refugee rights
A wide range of informational resources offering alternative narratives — including our own Right to Defence project — have also been subjected to censorship through blocking and designation as extremist materials.
Ironically, materials addressing the right to legal defence in Belarus can no longer be disseminated — because they are now officially labelled as extremist. Meanwhile, the official media channels of the bar have been transformed into tools of state propaganda, eliminating the possibility of alternative viewpoints or the appearance of unauthorised information altogether.
This approach was epitomised by a recent training event organised by the UN High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR). Only two pre-approved attorneys were permitted to attend, even though for other state-run or propaganda events, dozens of attorneys are routinely and effortlessly mobilised. Apparently, the authorities feared that other participants might hear something they weren’t supposed to.
As a result, according to Yevgeniya Potapova, “The knowledge and answers provided during the seminar will be shared with other attorneys for future use in their work.”

What Is It Like to Be an Attorney in Belarus Today?

It’s only natural, after reviewing all the facts above, to ask: What is the current state of that slowly boiling water in which the Belarusian legal profession has been simmering for so long? What does life look like for lawyers today? To this, we must answer honestly: we don’t really know.
Some information reaches us indirectly — for example, through the behaviour of certain attorneys in trials held in absentia, where the attorney avoids communication with the client, withholds procedural documents, or limits the possibility of exhausting domestic legal remedies. Other fragments come as reports of how incredibly difficult it is to find a lawyer willing to take on a political case — even when the charges are not particularly high-profile.
We assume that those attorneys who continue to be guided by the core principles of legal practice are now forced to act with great caution and constant awareness of where the invisible red lines lie. According to available information, the level of atomisation within the profession is extremely high, and communication between lawyers has been reduced to a bare minimum.
Totalitarianism demands total control — and the legal profession has not escaped this logic. Councils of Young Lawyers have been transformed into sweeping instruments of indoctrination, drawing young professionals into state narratives and pro-government activities. Partnerships with political structures such as Belaya Rus, the BRSM (Belarusian Republican Youth Union), and the Youth Parliament have become commonplace. In effect, young lawyers today are deprived of any role models from the era of even modest independence within the profession that existed before 2020. And yet, the profession still includes many for whom being an attorney is not about giving a lecture on elections at a factory — but about helping people and defending their rights.
It’s just becoming harder and harder to do so.

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