3 March 2025
The beginning is here - Belarus High Tech Park. Memories of the Future.
Ildar Daminov: During the Soviet era, Belarus was one of the leading republics in microelectronics, computer manufacturing, and mechanical engineering. Unlike Russia and Ukraine, where a significant portion of the industry was dedicated to military production, the Belarusian economy was built around advanced engineering expertise and cutting-edge civilian technologies.
The mechanical engineering sector was particularly impressive. Companies like BelAZ, MAZ, and the Minsk Tractor Plant produced machinery that was unique even by Soviet standards. Belarusian trucks, buses, and tractors were not only supplied to other Soviet republics but also exported to markets in Germany, France, and the United States—an exceptional achievement for a country behind the Iron Curtain.
In other words, Belarus had all the prerequisites for rapid economic growth after the collapse of the Soviet Union. Could this foundation have been used to create a modern innovation cluster that would define Belarus's economy today? And why, despite such promising conditions, did you choose to develop an entirely new economic sector from scratch?
Valery Tsepkalo: This question extends far beyond our discussion and would require a more in-depth analysis. However, within the context of our conversation, I’d like to highlight an important point: enterprises such as the Research Institute of Computer Technology (НИИ ЭВМ), the Ordzhonikidze Plant, Planar, Integral, and Horizont were primarily engaged in developing hardware-software systems. Their solutions were deeply integrated with specialized equipment, mainly serving the industrial and defense sectors.
However, the rapidly evolving IT industry required a completely different approach—software development for mass consumers, general-purpose applications, and professional tools designed to run on personal computers.
By the time the High-Tech Park (HTP) was launched, Belarus had virtually no software exports, nor did it have the capability to meet its own internal demand for IT solutions. Let me give you a couple of concrete examples.
At the time, a new building for the National Library was under construction. Its director, Roman Motulsky—a renowned scientist, a doctor of sciences, and the author of over 400 scholarly works in library science—recognized that a 21st-century library was not merely a repository for books. A modern institution of this caliber required advanced technological solutions, including an electronic catalog to facilitate efficient research and access to information. However, the old National Library (now the Minsk Regional Pushkin Library) still relied on an outdated card-based catalog system.
Motulsky searched for a Belarusian company capable of developing an electronic catalog and internal search system and turned to me for assistance in finding suitable developers. Despite our efforts, we were unable to locate specialists in the country capable of executing this project. Ultimately, the first electronic catalog was developed by Israeli engineers.
Later, as the competencies of Belarusian IT professionals grew, this project was taken over by ITransition, an HTP resident company founded by the talented entrepreneur Sergey Gvardeitsev. From my very first meeting with Sergey, he completely changed my perception of programmers. I had always believed that IT specialists were mostly introverts—focused on mathematical and algorithmic problem-solving, immersed in coding, and not particularly inclined toward dynamic interpersonal communication. Sergey defied this stereotype entirely.
He was full of energy, charisma, and an entrepreneurial mindset. It seemed as though he combined multiple roles at once—leader, strategist, and visionary—capable not only of developing technical solutions but also of inspiring people, motivating them to build strong teams, and driving impactful projects forward.
Sergey at the center of our traditional "Golden Byte" competition.
Another striking example is Belarus’s first mobile operator, Velcom, which was later acquired by Austrian Telekom and is now known as A1. Its primary shareholder, Ead Samawi, approached me with a request to help develop a billing system. At the time, the company faced significant challenges: numerous customer complaints were flooding in, alleging that their roaming charges were inaccurately calculated, creating the impression that the operator was unfairly inflating bills. To resolve these concerns, Velcom needed a robust software solution capable of precisely tracking and billing customers for international calls.
Interestingly, few people in Belarus know that the construction of the new Museum of the Great Patriotic War in Victory Park was funded by Id Samawi. In return for his investment, he was promised ownership of the old museum building, where he planned to construct a modern office complex. However, after the new museum was completed, the government refused to approve any of his proposed architectural projects. Eventually, he realized that the approvals would never come, and the building was handed over to Serbian businessmen—the Karić brothers—who, as was common practice in Minsk at the time, received prime real estate in the city for free.
Let me remind you that they were also given a $500 million plot of land near the National Library, while the High-Tech Park was deliberately relocated beyond the ring road, to a site occupied by abandoned buildings of the National Academy of Sciences and the city’s snow dump. This significantly reduced its investment appeal and posed serious challenges for me in developing the project.
HTP Territory
Returning to Velcom, it soon became clear that Belarus lacked software developers capable of building a reliable billing system. As a result, the contract was awarded to a Finnish company—though I no longer recall its exact name.
Later, an interesting episode occurred with the Finns. During a visit by a Finnish business delegation to Belarus, their itinerary included a stop at HTP. At that time, HTP was still in its early stages: we had a small office and only a few resident companies—mostly businesses with Belarusian roots but registered abroad. If I remember correctly, these companies were recommended by the Belarusian Chamber of Commerce and Industry or the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, which sought to fill the delegation’s schedule with meaningful business meetings.
For us, however, it was crucial to attract foreign companies that had no historical connection to Belarus. One of the delegation members was Juhani Lano, a board member of Tieto Enator, a company specializing in financial software solutions.
They were surprised when I chose to speak with them not in English, but in Finnish—my first foreign language, which I had once mastered even better than English. Of course, by that time, my skills had weakened due to a lack of practice, but they were still sufficient to hold a conversation on a variety of topics. Naturally, this left a strong impression on the Finns (laughs—I.D.), as Finnish—along with Hungarian—is considered one of the most difficult languages in Europe.
Some time later, Juhani returned to Minsk to negotiate the establishment of a Tieto Enator development center within HTP. The company was founded in partnership with ScienceSoft, an HTP resident led by Nikolai Kuraev, one of the Park’s first four residents alongside EPAM, System Technologies, and Sakrament.
This was a major milestone for us. At the time, Tieto Enator had about 15,000 employees, and its entry into Belarus sent a strong signal to the international business community. It demonstrated that, despite Belarus’s negative international image, IT cooperation was both viable and promising.
By the way, Juhani, his wife Ulla, and I maintained warm, friendly relations for many years.
I.D. – A country’s image plays a crucial role in attracting investment. Without confidence in the security of their capital, foreign companies are hesitant to enter a market. What arguments did you use to convince potential investors to open R&D centers in Belarus, considering that neighboring Poland and the Baltic states offered stronger investment protections, while Russia and Ukraine had much larger domestic markets?
V.T. – We used a range of arguments to present Belarus as a country with exceptional intellectual potential. Foreign companies visiting the High-Tech Park (HTP) saw a community of professionals genuinely committed to the country’s development and modernization. It became clear to them that Belarus was not just about farming and agriculture—we had the talent and expertise to build cutting-edge technologies.
For Finnish companies and later other potential investors, I recommended starting small. When concerns about corporate raiding were raised, I would respond with something like this:
"Unlike investments in physical assets—factories, buildings, or equipment—which can indeed be seized, intellectual property in IT cannot be confiscated. Clients are abroad, and the code and technology remain with the developers. Of course, the authorities could create bureaucratic hurdles, but they could not take away the business itself. Even in the worst-case scenario, a company’s losses would be limited to office furniture and computers. Entering the market requires minimal investment—just renting an office and hiring 15–20 specialists to start working. After that, you can see how things develop..."
Some investors appreciated my candor, while others found my reasoning convincing. Step by step, foreign companies began entering Belarus, testing the waters before scaling their operations.
At the time of HTP’s launch, Belarus faced a severe shortage of IT specialists—even for domestic needs. Most developers were employed at state-owned enterprises, working on highly specialized solutions that were disconnected from the global IT market. Meanwhile, private companies primarily focused on importing, installing, and maintaining Western hardware rather than developing software.
For example, Belsoft, one of the largest IT firms of the time, did not join HTP because its business revolved around hardware distribution rather than software development.
Among existing state-owned enterprises, only AGAT Systems somewhat aligned with HTP’s vision. However, its business was centered on military contracts for Russia and the Persian Gulf, which provided jobs for Belarusian programmers but severely limited long-term growth prospects. Working on classified projects restricted access to global technologies, international partnerships, and emerging trends in the IT industry.
Beyond the skills gap, the lack of English proficiency among Belarusian IT professionals posed a critical obstacle to working with clients in Western Europe and North America.
This was a Soviet-era legacy, where foreign languages were seen as the domain of linguists and humanities scholars, while technical professionals were rarely required to learn them.
As a result, at that time, most Belarusian IT specialists had little to no foreign language skills, making it nearly impossible for them to communicate with international clients. Grigory Katsman, Vice President of Exadel, once shared a telling story about the early days of their presence in HTP. When the company had only about ten employees in Belarus, he personally attended every single client call with American customers—not as a mentor, but as a translator.
This disconnect between industry demand and available talent made it clear that we needed a comprehensive strategy:
✅ Training a new generation of IT specialists
✅ Reforming educational programs
✅ Creating an ecosystem for private IT companies capable of competing globally
This became the core mission of HTP’s development and the driving force behind Belarus’s IT transformation.
Recognizing this challenge, we actively restructured university IT curricula, placing a strong emphasis on English language training. One of the first steps was increasing the number of English classes in technical universities.
The first rector to embrace this initiative was Mikhail Pavlovich Baturo of Belarusian State University of Informatics and Radioelectronics. While it took time to implement, the changes significantly improved the language proficiency of IT students.
However, even before these reforms took effect in universities, many IT companies took matters into their own hands, organizing English courses in-house to ensure their employees could communicate with international clients.
Some companies, like Sam Solutions, which primarily served the German market, went even further—introducing German language courses in addition to English.
This may have seemed excessive, given that Germans, unlike the French, Spanish, or Italians, generally speak fluent English at both conversational and professional levels.
However, Andrey Bakhirev, one of the first entrepreneurs to establish an IT training lab at BSUIR and a major shareholder in Sam Solutions, explained it this way: "From a business perspective, learning German wasn't strictly necessary—German clients spoke English fluently. But conducting even small talk in German created an entirely different dynamic during negotiations. It built a sense of trust and strengthened the relationship between the client and the developers."
These efforts produced results quickly. Within a few years, the situation changed dramatically:
✅ Belarusian programmers were communicating with international clients directly—without intermediaries.
✅ English became deeply embedded in the IT culture, to the point where English expressions and technical slang became common in casual Russian-language conversations.
This breakthrough played a pivotal role in integrating Belarusian IT companies into the global market and cementing their reputation among leading international technology players.
I.D. – You have extensively covered the technological clusters of India, Israel, and some Asian countries, but we all understand that the true pioneers in this field were the United States. They set global trends in building an innovation-driven economy, establishing themselves as undisputed leaders in the sector. The legendary Silicon Valley has long been synonymous with creativity, entrepreneurial spirit, and technological breakthroughs, serving as a model for similar initiatives worldwide.
V.T. – Recreating the American model in our reality seemed almost utopian. The experience of developing nations was much more relatable and understandable to me, as it reflected the conditions in which Belarus found itself at the time of launching our initiative. However, you are absolutely right—no tech park aspiring to global leadership can ignore Silicon Valley.
Its experience inspired me in the creation of the High-Tech Park (HTP) in Belarus, not as a blueprint for direct replication, but as an example of how to leverage human capital effectively.
When I was serving as Belarusian Ambassador to the U.S., our country’s exports to the U.S. amounted to approximately $200 million per year. The primary exports were steel, fiberglass, and timber—typical for a resource-based economy. Software did not even appear in Belarus’s export structure at the time, which vividly illustrated the underdeveloped state of our domestic IT industry.
However, by the time I left my position as HTP Director, the export of Belarusian software to the U.S. alone had exceeded $500 million. This was a transformational shift, made possible by creating an environment conducive to technological business growth.
Engaging with Thought Leaders in the U.S.
In the early 2000s, I frequently gave public lectures across the U.S.. This began after I wrote an extensive essay for Foreign Affairs, which was then the most prestigious publication in the field of international relations.
This journal had published works by some of America’s most influential thinkers, including:
✔ Samuel Huntington (The Clash of Civilizations)
✔ Francis Fukuyama (The End of History)
✔ Zbigniew Brzezinski (A Geostrategy for Eurasia, based on his book The Grand Chessboard).
My essay, The Remaking of Eurasia, was an intellectual debate with Brzezinski and Fukuyama over the future of the post-Soviet region.
At the time, idealistic views dominated both within the CIS and in Russia-West relations, yet I predicted the inevitable emergence of conflicts in the post-Soviet space—including the war in Ukraine.
I argued that this geopolitical vacuum would inevitably draw in not only Russia and Ukraine but also Europe, Iran, and Turkey—all of which have deep strategic interests in this region.
My proposal was to develop integration scenarios for the post-Soviet space to prevent future conflicts and wars. Moreover, I urged the U.S. and European nations to support these integration processes, emphasizing that strong ties between the former Soviet republics would not contradict—nor should they contradict—partnerships with the West.
In fact, my name is on the Belarus-EU Partnership and Cooperation Agreement, as I was the chief negotiator for Belarus.
At the time, few took such predictions seriously. A Russian acquaintance later admitted to me that when he reached the part of my essay discussing a potential Russia-Ukraine conflict, he simply closed the article—the idea seemed so implausible to him.
But this was, so to speak, just the preamble to my introduction to Silicon Valley.
After my essay was published, I began receiving numerous invitations to conferences, roundtables, and seminars across the U.S.
During this time, I developed strong friendships with:
✔ John Bolton, then Vice President of the American Enterprise Institute
✔ Ian Bremmer, who had just completed his PhD at Stanford and moved to New York
Bremmer even suggested that we co-found a company specializing in political and business risk analysis in Eurasia. However, at the time, I could hardly believe that foreign policy analysis could be a profitable business venture.
One particular meeting in California would later prove to be pivotal for my career path.
I was invited to Monterey to give a lecture before the California Council on Foreign Relations on the future of the post-Soviet region. After my talk, a small group of young professionals from Belarus, Ukraine, and Russia approached me. They had traveled from Silicon Valley specifically to hear my speech—which, at the time, was a rare occurrence for visitors from the homeland.
We began talking, and each of them shared their personal stories.
The common theme in all their experiences was that, after graduating from universities in their home countries, they saw no future for themselves and sought any possible way to get to the U.S.
Some arrived on tourist visas and stayed, while others navigated the long and difficult process of obtaining work visas or green cards.
Despite these challenges, they succeeded in building impressive careers, eventually securing key positions in leading tech companies. It was at that moment that I realized something fundamental. The quality of human capital in Belarus was on par with that of Germany, France, the UK, or the U.S. Our people were just as intelligent, creative, and entrepreneurial as the most successful nations in the world. The only thing they lacked was an environment in their home country that would allow them to realize their potential.
That realization became a turning point for me. I came to understand that Belarus’s greatest asset was not oil, not metals, not timber, nor potassium or nitrogen fertilizers—but its people. They were the true driving force that could propel the country forward—if given the right conditions. This understanding ultimately led me to leave diplomacy and transition into the IT sector, launching the High-Tech Park initiative.
Because this, I realized, was where real foreign policy was taking shape—a foreign policy based on the knowledge economy.
To be continued
