Belarus protests: can decentralised media like Nexta bring down Europe’s ailing autocrats?

At 6pm on Tuesday 11 August, the Belarusian internet went dark. Internet connections in the country had been sporadic or drastically slowed since Sunday, when Belarus went to elect a new president. State polling predictably suggested that incumbent Belarusian leader, Alexander Lukashenko, who has ruled the country for the past 26 years, would take home another landslide victory — not least due to a leaked audio recording where officials from the Central Electoral Committee appeared to discuss the vote’s pre-planned results.

When the polls closed, however, crowds of opposition supporters took to the streets. They decried brazen vote rigging and another term of Lukashenko’s rule. Riot police came to meet them, often with brutal shows of force. A defining moment in Belarus’ modern history unfolded on the streets.

Yet for journalists, protestors, and human rights groups, Belarus’ internet block has made real time information difficult to access. With limited options, many have been forced to rely on encrypted social media channels that can bypass restrictions, primarily channels on messaging app Telegram. Nexta — a channel which describes itself as the “largest in Belarus, with news, analysis, and inside info” — has come to particular prominence with videos from the protests, as well as practical advice for demonstrators and on-the-ground updates. One of a new breed on decentralised news channels, it is spread across multiple online platforms, rather than on a single website, and relies heavily on anonymous tips and citizen contributions. But as Nexta has opened new doors, it has also posed new questions. Where do these new outlets fit into a modern media scene that is constantly under pressure — and to what extent can they be trusted?

The app allows channel administrators to send images, messages, and text directly to readers’ phones. These can be short messages — “Beware of Gorodetskaya Street, there’s a paddy wagon sitting quietly by number 38” — or longer round-ups closer to traditional news articles of several hundred words, complete with photographs or video. Beaming themselves directly onto readers’ phones, with notifications that appear just like an ordinary WhatsApp message, allows channels to quickly establish an intimate relationship with its readership, which in itself supports a fast-moving, citizen-led stream of news and updates.

This has been vital for news gathering at a time when traditional journalists have become targets of the state. The Belarusian Association of Journalists have listed 62 separate attacks on journalists during the elections so far. Other reporters, including the vast majority of foreign correspondents — traditionally based in Moscow, Prague, and Budapest – have simply had their accreditation to work in the country denied, or are unable to cross the border due to politically-convenient Covid-19 restrictions.

Nexta has also proven popular with users. More than 360,000 people subscribed to the Nexta Live channel in less than 24 hours on Tuesday 11 August.

Yet decentralised news operations can also pose problems. There is no public information as to Nexta’s funding. This is not unusual for opposition or independent media outlets in the region, with even major news sites such as Meduza keeping its backers under wraps in a bid to stop government forces putting pressure on them. In the post-truth age, such information vacuums can lead to dangerous speculation.

More important to those keeping tabs on the protests however, is the accuracy of the information that Nexta is releasing. Neither Putilo or the channel’s editor-in-chief, 25-year-old Roman Protasevich — formerly a journalist for the likes of the Belarusian edition of Komsomolskaya Pravda — currently in Belarus, but based in Poland. Despite many of its new tech solutions, Nexta is facing many of the same problems as more traditional media outlets: they will need to verify the accuracy of much of its content from afar.

“We try to verify using cross-verification,” Protasevich told Euronews. “If several clearly unrelated people write to us and tell us the same thing, then we basically consider this information verified, because we certainly cannot receive any information from officials.” Accounts can also be collaborated via other reporters who continue to risk their safety on the ground — at least when they have the internet to share those reports.

There also other techniques, but these require more practice and a certain eagle-eyed watchfulness. Do certain landmarks or skylines match up with where the image is reported to have been taken? Has the picture been manipulated in any way? Such scrutiny is difficult to implement in a fast-scrolling social media news cycle. But for journalists such as Nexta, it is a barrier that must be overcome. Online, the smallest doubt can breed clouds of confusion, and even a single slip can be fatal. Every reporter faces such pressures, but in Belarus, the stakes have never been higher.

​If nothing else, the emergence of decentralised news sites encapsulate many traits of the Belarusian opposition in 2020. They have continued to work and organise, even without a centralised leadership. They have proven themselves to be endlessly creative — protesting with flowers, queues, and the very clothes they wear — and tech-savvy enough to avoid large-scale blackouts.

Going forward, however, will require caution. Sites such as Nexta may be pioneers, but that also condemns them to move in uncharted waters. As they navigate such uncertain seas, it is unlikely that they will not encounter resistance or even outright attacks. Lukashenko has ruled Belarus since 1994 — four years before Nexta founder Stepan Putilo was born. He will not leave office without a fight. For now, real-life violence continues on the streets on Minsk. But a protracted and messy campaign of information warfare, as previously seen in Ukraine, could be brewing on the horizon.