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Since Belarus’s disputed election on August 9, protest actions by industrial workers have played a crucial role in the rallies against the reelection of longtime president Alexander Lukashenko. Walking out in their thousands, employees at industrial behemoths such as BelAZ (Belarus Automobile Plant), MTZ (Minsk Tractor Works), Grodno Azot, and Belaruskali carried signs saying, “We’re Not Serfs — We’re Workers!” with some even calling for a general strike. This represented an impressive act of solidarity between workers and the liberal, urban upper-middle class that voted for opposition candidate Svetlana Tikhanovskaya. In particular, their walkouts dealt a heavy reputational blow to the regime of a country that prides itself on a vibrant industrial sector, dominated by state-owned heavy industry. These actions have not yet reached anything like the scale of a general strike, and are in some cases comparatively limited — worker protests, more than “strikes,” per se. But the keen attention that the main actors in the conflict have devoted to them are vivid demonstrations of their importance for future developments. In an escalation of his customary bombastic style, Lukashenko reacted by threatening massive layoffs, factory lockouts, and even the introduction of strike-breaking workers from Ukraine and Russia. None of these moves have been made yet, but the Belarusian Ministry of Industry has already announced a significant number of vacancies at important state-run companies. Additionally, strike committee leaders from some more rebellious factories such as MTZ and Belaruskali have been detained and sued for illegal agitation. Workers’ leaders have thus shared the fate of key figures in the liberal opposition such as Olga Kavalkova, who was detained and given a ten-day sentence in a fast-procedure online trial. Kavalkova — a doverennoe litso, or trusted representative, of Tikhanovskaya — had been quick to recognize the significance of strikes, calling workers to form a regionally representative national committee and elect deputies to the opposition’s Coordination Council. Since then, the council has been voicing regular and unconditional support for the strikes, calling for national action, and has even tried to organize a support fund for workers who are not receiving salaries or are getting laid off. Yet despite the importance placed on strike action, it is less clear what political role workers can themselves play. The danger is they will fall into a false dilemma — that of having to choose between authoritarian and parliamentary variants of neoliberalism. Back in the USSR The solidarity between parts of Belarus’s white- and blue-collar workforce — and entrepreneurs — may be surprising. But this can be at least partially traced to the effects of the Lukashenko regime itself. There is the obvious and negative part: people are exasperated at an autocratic leader who has single-handedly ruled the country for more than a quarter-century. As one analyst put it, Belarusian society has outgrown its regime. But there is also a positive side to this. During Lukashenko’s long rule, Belarus has seen not only good economic growth, but also decreasing levels of inequality, lower than those in other East European countries — including EU member states such as Lithuania and Bulgaria. This is itself a factor in fostering solidarity between social groups. Added to this is the fact that Belarus’s state-owned industries need a trained workforce. In effect, Belarusian industrial workers are not that easily dispensable, and this — together with the fact that their factories are owned by the government — accounts for the power they yield. Ukrainian sociologist Volodymyr Ishchenko further points out that Belarus’s mono-industrial town setup, inherited from the Soviet Union, brings together the problems of the community and those of the workshop. Indeed, looking at its Soviet-inspired national flag and state-run economy, it might be tempting to view Belarus as somehow stuck in the early 1990s. It is true that as an MP back in August 1991, Lukashenko voted against the country leaving the USSR, and it was he who reintroduced the redesigned Belarusian SSR flag. But thinking about the regime through labels such as “Europe’s last dictatorship” — or using this title to counterpose it to neoliberalism — is bound to lead to oversimplification.