How Russian elections became a futile exercise for Putin鈥檚 opposition
Loading...
| Moscow
Last November, Yekaterina Duntsova announced that she would run for Russia鈥檚 presidency as a peace candidate. A month later, the聽small-town journalist, mother, and former municipal deputy was barred from the ballot by the electoral commission.
Undeterred, Ms. Duntsova decided to start a new party to address what she describes as the 鈥渧acuum of political choices鈥 for Russians.
鈥淪omething is wrong in the country; people can feel it,鈥 she says. 鈥淚 have been shown a lot of support from many around me, people who want to see alternatives to the tough politics of today. This energy should be channeled into creative activities.鈥
Why We Wrote This
A story focused onRussia鈥檚 presidential election appears largely a rote exercise, as a popular, unchallengeable leader faces only nominal competition from three 鈥渟ystemic鈥 opponents. The Kremlin has worked for years to make it this way.
But while no one appears to be overtly trying to stop Ms. Duntsova from starting her grassroots party, it is telling that both she and another more serious anti-war candidate, Boris Nadezhdin, were prevented last month from running in聽this weekend鈥檚 presidential polls.
The system of 鈥managed democracy鈥 erected under Vladimir Putin used to offer plenty of opportunities for people to participate as members of various 鈥渓oyal opposition鈥 parties, and often get elected to local legislatures and even to the State Duma. At one time, some believed that this system might eventually grow into a more representative Russian democracy.
But now, under the impact of war, sanctions, and confrontation with the West, the range of political options available to Russians who wish to express dissatisfaction with the status quo has narrowed drastically. And Mr. Putin鈥檚 rule is protected from any challenge.
Ms. Duntsova nonetheless retains hope that elections can make a difference.
鈥淧eople should all go out and vote鈥澛爐his weekend 鈥渇or any candidate other than the present president,鈥 she says, voicing an idea promoted by the late Alexei Navalny after he鈥檇 been barred from the last presidential election six years ago. Even a symbolic vote against Mr. Putin would be heard as a statement of discontent, she says. 鈥淧eople need to see results.鈥
Putin above the fray
Polling by Russia鈥檚 only independent opinion agency, the Levada Center, shows that the war has rallied the public behind Mr. Putin, making it difficult to discern any difference between those who enthusiastically support him and those who just believe there鈥檚 no viable alternative.
鈥淪ince the beginning of the war, Putin鈥檚 electoral rating has doubled in size,鈥 says Denis Volkov, director of the Levada Center. 鈥淭he situation of an external conflict has put the lack of alternatives into the background. Now the majority thinks Putin is the person who can protect them against the West.鈥
Officially there are three candidates running against Mr. Putin in the March 15-17 election, each from a 鈥渟ystemic鈥 or loyal opposition party. Each may differ with the Kremlin on a variety of issues, but never on vital foreign policy or the war in Ukraine. They represent a spectrum that once showed promise of possibly expanding into a more competitive democracy, but now appear little more than window dressing for Mr. Putin鈥檚 ceremonial return to power.
None of the permitted candidates seem to be campaigning very hard, and Mr. Putin not at all. He traditionally positions himself above the fray, suggesting that people should know him by his works.
鈥淯nlike the last presidential election in 2018, the number of candidates is small and the differences between what they say is negligible,鈥 says Nikolai Petrov, an expert with Chatham House in London. 鈥淣ow we see, step by step, the Kremlin attacks all places where some kind of political life was going on, such as municipal politics. ... If there are no real institutions, how can you expect political culture to develop?鈥
No room for real debate
The outlook for the nonsystemic opposition聽鈥 those who refuse to compromise or work with the Kremlin聽鈥 is far worse. For more than a decade, Russian authorities have cracked down on politically active and foreign-funded civil society groups, labeling them 鈥渇oreign agents鈥 and driving them out of legal existence.
Two years of war have created a martial law-like situation, in which any expression deemed disloyal can result in arrest and, often, imprisonment. Almost any criticism of the war, even in private conversation or uttered in a spirit of loyalty to Russia, can now land a person .
The best-known practitioner of nonsystemic opposition was Mr. Navalny, who, after being prohibited from taking part in electoral politics, turned to street protests. His death last month in prison leaves that opposition聽鈥 who came out in large numbers to mourn at his funeral early this month聽鈥 without any unifying figure to rally around.
鈥淣avalny was unique in the sense that he became a well-known politician in the absence of public politics,鈥 says Mr. Petrov. 鈥淗e established a network that鈥檚 since been dismantled, and he himself wasn鈥檛 able to play much of a role from prison.鈥
Another factor limiting the possibilities for the opposition is that many of its strongest voices, along with thousands of well-educated opposition supporters, have gone abroad over the past couple of years. Unlike the former Soviet regime, Mr. Putin鈥檚 government leaves the door open for those who are dissatisfied to go. They may return as well, though that involves at least implicit acceptance of the status quo.
鈥淭he idea of letting all these people leave is to isolate them outside the country. It works,鈥 says Mr. Petrov. 鈥淏eing abroad, you lose touch; you can鈥檛 participate in Russian politics or influence the situation. That鈥檚 why Navalny chose to return to Russia [after recovering from poisoning abroad], even though he paid a terrible personal price: because he didn鈥檛 want to lose his place as a Russian politician.鈥
Editor's note: This story has been updated to correct the dates of the presidential election.