Russia holds controlled election as Putin tightens grip amid Ukraine war

Russians are voting this weekend in an election that was decided long before the first ballot was cast. Vladimir Putin's United Russia party will almost certainly extend its twenty-three-year hold on the State Duma, the country's parliament, alongside a small constellation of opposition parties that exist mainly to create the appearance of choice. The three-day vote runs Friday through Sunday, with results expected by evening on the final day. There is no suspense about the outcome—only about what comes after.

The timing matters. This is the first parliamentary election since Russia's full-scale invasion of Ukraine in 2022, and the country has changed in ways that make the Kremlin's control more visible and more fragile. Over the summer, Ukrainian drones have struck Russian oil refineries, factories, and supply lines with increasing frequency. Polling shows growing unease among ordinary Russians about the war's direction and what may still be demanded of them. The Kremlin's response has been to tighten its grip further, not loosen it.

Last month, authorities barred Yabloko, the only major party openly opposing the invasion, from competing in the election. This was not inevitable. Officials had apparently expected Yabloko to perform poorly, a sign that anti-war sentiment had withered. But when internal polling suggested the party was actually gaining support, the decision was made to remove it from the ballot entirely rather than risk an unscripted result. What remained were the Communist Party, the far-right Liberal Democrats, and a few others—what Russians call the "systemic opposition," parties allowed to grumble at the margins but certain to vote with the Kremlin when it matters. For years, these parties have functioned as a pressure valve, giving discontented voters somewhere to register protest without threatening the system. This year, even that limited role has become difficult to perform.

The campaign itself has been strikingly hollow. Candidates are barely campaigning. Televised debates have taken place in half-empty studios because politicians failed to show up, producing awkward footage that became internet jokes. United Russia's advertising relies heavily on low-budget artificial intelligence, with no memorable promises or slogans. None of the parties has dared to address the questions about the war that dominate private conversations across the country. A person with access to Kremlin circles explained the strategy plainly: keep the election quiet, suppress turnout among the disaffected and independent-minded, ensure the party faithful vote, and avoid any discussion of difficult issues. Farida Rustamova, a political analyst, observed that in most elections candidates compete for attention; this year, many are doing the opposite, afraid of the spotlight.

The election serves a purpose beyond the obvious one. Vladimir Gelman, a professor of Russian politics at the University of Helsinki, noted that even unfree and unfair elections provide the Kremlin with a source of legitimacy and reinforce the impression of broad public consent. Putin himself made this explicit in a televised address this week, linking participation in the vote to the war itself. Voting, he said, would demonstrate that millions of Russians stand behind their soldiers, that the country is united by shared values and love of homeland. It is a way of conscripting consent.

But for many Russians, the election's real significance lies not in the result but in what follows. With Russian troops making little progress in Ukraine at enormous cost, rumors of another large-scale military mobilization have spread across the country. The fear is that once the election is safely concluded and a compliant new parliament is installed, the Kremlin will have greater freedom to pursue unpopular measures it has so far avoided. That fear is already driving action. Young men are leaving Russia, hoping to wait out any new draft—scenes that echo September 2022, when hundreds of thousands fled after Putin announced the first wartime mobilization. Some are flying to Armenia, Georgia, and other neighboring countries. One man named Dmitry left for Yerevan last week. "I'll just wait a few weeks after the elections," he said. "Let's see if anything changes after the vote." Even people with connections to the system are sending their sons abroad, a sign that few are confident about what will happen next. Putin has twice dismissed suggestions that a new mobilization is imminent, but those reassurances have not been enough to stop the exodus. The election is a formality; what comes after is the real test.