In a country where elections do not determine power but reveal its limits, Russians head to the polls this week carrying the accumulated weight of war — rising prices, fuel shortages, and the quiet dread of conscription. The Kremlin will manufacture whatever results it needs, yet it watches turnout with genuine anxiety, because what cannot be fabricated is the mood of a people who have begun asking, in private and in growing numbers, what this war is truly costing them. The vote, running from September 18 to 20, is less a democratic exercise than a barometer — and the pressure it registers may
War fatigue and anxiety grip Russia ahead of parliamentary elections
Russians fleeing the country to avoid potential conscription; widespread anxiety and war fatigue affecting daily life and family planning.
How much does this war cost me? Am I ready to pay?
Mark
So the Kremlin already knows it will win these elections. What's the actual point of holding them?
Mimi
They're a loyalty test. In authoritarian systems, elections don't change who's in power, but they do measure whether the population still accepts that power. Right now, with war fatigue rising, the Kremlin needs to know if people are still with them.
Luke
But if the results are fabricated anyway, doesn't that make the turnout number the only real data point? And can you even trust turnout numbers from a system that admits it can manipulate results?
Mimi
That's the tension, yes. The Kremlin is watching to see if people show up, but everyone knows the numbers can be adjusted. What matters more might be what people do outside the official framework—whether they vote strategically, spoil ballots, or just show up at noon to be seen.
Mark
Why is Yabloko such a big deal if it's been banned from running?
Mimi
Because eighteen percent of Russians said they would vote for it before the ban. That's not a fringe number. It shows there's a real constituency for anti-war politics, even though the system won't allow it to compete.
Luke
But we should be careful here—that eighteen percent is from one independent pollster. We don't know if that holds across the country, and we don't know how many of those people will actually follow through on alternative strategies now that Yabloko is out.
Mark
What happens if turnout is very low?
Mimi
That would be a signal to the Kremlin that legitimacy is eroding. It would suggest people are withdrawing consent, even if they're not actively resisting.
Luke
Though low turnout could also be explained by apathy, fear of being seen at polling stations, or just the practical difficulty of voting in a system people don't trust. We can't assume low turnout automatically means anti-war sentiment.
Mark
Is there any chance the Kremlin actually wants peace talks?
Mimi
The Kremlin has hinted at peace talks in October. Some analysts think that's a tactic to calm voters before the election—to suggest that escalation isn't the only path.
Luke
But we should note that's speculation about motive. What we know is that the ruling party's platform lists victory in Ukraine as a priority, and the Kremlin has shown no concrete willingness to negotiate. The hints at talks could be real, or they could be messaging.
Il Polso
- Six in ten Russians say the war has damaged their daily lives, with fuel shortages, climbing prices, and persistent conscription rumors pushing some to flee the country entirely rather than wait for a draft notice after the vote.
- Yabloko, the only registered party openly opposing the war, surged from below five percent to eighteen percent support in a matter of weeks — then a court barred it from the ballot, closing the most visible legal channel for anti-war sentiment.
- With no clean outlet, the opposition has fractured into competing strategies: vote for any party but United Russia, spoil the ballot, or simply appear at polling stations at noon on September 20 to form silent queues that need no banners to be understood.
- United Russia campaigns on military victory and fields candidate lists heavy with war veterans, even as independent polling shows a majority of Russians favor peace negotiations — a widening gap between the party's message and the public's private arithmetic.
- The Kremlin's real concern is not the official result, which is predetermined, but the texture of participation — turnout levels, the willingness to show up or stay home — signals that will quietly inform how Moscow manages the war's next phase.
In a country where elections do not determine power but reveal its limits, Russians head to the polls this week carrying the accumulated weight of war — rising prices, fuel shortages, and the quiet dread of conscription. The Kremlin will manufacture whatever results it needs, yet it watches turnout with genuine anxiety, because what cannot be fabricated is the mood of a people who have begun asking, in private and in growing numbers, what this war is truly costing them. The vote, running from September 18 to 20, is less a democratic exercise than a barometer — and the pressure it registers may shape how Moscow wages the next chapter of a conflict most Russians now wish would end.
Russia is holding parliamentary elections this week, and the Kremlin's anxiety is not about the outcome. The ruling party will win; the figures will be whatever Moscow decides. The anxiety is about what the election exposes — a national mood that has shifted in ways the government cannot simply decree away.
For months, Russians have lived under the grinding pressure of the war in Ukraine. Ukrainian strikes on oil refineries have caused fuel shortages. Prices have climbed. Rumors of a new conscription drive circulate constantly, and some Russians have left the country rather than risk being drafted after the vote. Nearly half of respondents to state polling describe alarm as the dominant feeling around them; independent surveys find six in ten believe the war has damaged their daily lives. What researchers note is a new kind of question taking hold: not whether Russia should win, but what winning is costing ordinary families — and whether they are willing to keep paying.
United Russia is campaigning on victory in Ukraine, its candidate lists populated with figures presented as war veterans. The message is one of commitment to the conflict. But independent polling suggests six in ten Russians favor peace negotiations, and many who still support Putin personally have become quietly anti-war. The gap between the party's platform and the public's private calculation is the space the Kremlin is watching most carefully.
One party tried to fill that space. Yabloko, the only registered political party openly opposing the war, surged from below five percent to eighteen percent support by late summer, drawing in younger Russians who saw it as a vehicle for their discontent. Then a court barred it from running.
With that door closed, opposition figures have split on tactics. Yulia Navalnaya and Maxim Katz urge supporters to vote for any party except United Russia, diluting the ruling party's margin. Yabloko encourages ballot spoiling. Others argue the most legible statement will be physical presence: on September 20, they are calling on people to arrive at polling stations at noon and simply stand in line. No flags, no banners — just queues that everyone will understand as belonging to people who do not want the war to continue.
When Deutsche Welle asked Russian readers anonymously about their plans, most said they would vote against United Russia. Some spoke of principle even within a system they consider a farce. Others said they would not participate at all, unwilling to lend any legitimacy to the process. The official results, when they come, will tell the world little. What the Kremlin will read carefully — in turnout, in the texture of who showed up and who did not — will quietly shape how Russia manages the next phase of a war its own people are growing too tired to celebrate.
Russia is holding parliamentary elections this week, and the Kremlin knows it has a problem. Not with the outcome—the ruling party will win, the official results will be whatever Moscow wants them to be. The problem is what the election reveals about the country's mood, and that mood has shifted in ways that should worry the government.
For months now, Russians have been living with the grinding weight of the war in Ukraine. Fuel shortages caused by Ukrainian strikes on oil refineries have made it harder to heat homes and fill tanks. Prices have climbed. Rumors of another conscription drive circulate constantly, pushing some people to leave the country entirely rather than risk being drafted after the vote. Nearly half of those surveyed by the state's own pollster say alarm is the dominant feeling around them. According to independent polling, six in ten Russians now believe the war has damaged their daily lives.
What's changed this year, according to researchers tracking public opinion, is that Russians have begun asking a practical question: What is this costing me, and my family, and am I willing to pay it? That shift from abstract support to personal calculation is what keeps Kremlin officials watching turnout numbers so carefully. "The Kremlin is confident it can fabricate whatever figures it needs," one sociologist told Deutsche Welle. "The question is how high of a price it will have to pay."
Elections in authoritarian systems serve a different purpose than they do in democracies. They are not mechanisms for change. They are instruments for measuring loyalty. For Putin, that measurement matters now more than it has in years. The ruling party, United Russia, is campaigning on victory in Ukraine as a core platform. Its candidate list is filled with people presented as war veterans. The message is clear: we are committed to continuing this conflict. But polling suggests most Russians want the opposite. Six in ten favor peace negotiations with Ukraine, according to independent data. Many still support Putin personally, but they are becoming anti-war.
One party tried to channel that sentiment: Yabloko, a liberal opposition force that is the only registered political party openly opposing the war. In July, its support was below five percent. By late summer, independent polling showed it had surged to eighteen percent, particularly among younger Russians. People were joining, volunteering, treating it as a vehicle for their discontent. Then a court barred it from running in the election.
With that option closed, opposition figures have split on strategy. Yulia Navalnaya, widow of the imprisoned dissident Alexei Navalny, and opposition politician Maxim Katz are urging supporters to vote for any party except United Russia, to dilute the ruling party's margin. Yabloko is encouraging voters to spoil their ballots. But some opposition voices say the real statement will come not through voting choices but through presence. On September 20, they are calling for people to show up at polling stations at noon. "These queues will be a visible expression of public discontent," one exiled opposition politician said. "No need for flags or banners. Everyone will know: the queues at noon are made up of people who do not want the war to continue."
When Deutsche Welle asked Russian readers anonymously about their plans, most said they would follow the advice to vote against United Russia. Some cited principle: "Elections have long become a farce, but I will vote because I want to show that I have a position." Others said they would not participate at all. "I don't want to legitimize Putin's regime," one wrote. The elections run from September 18 to 20. What the Kremlin learns from them—not from the official results, which are predetermined, but from turnout, from the texture of participation, from what people are willing to do and not do—will shape how the government manages the next phase of the war.
Citazioni salienti
The Kremlin is confident it can fabricate whatever figures it needs. The question is how high of a price it will have to pay.— Margarita Zavadskaya, sociologist at Finnish Institute of International Affairs
The silent majority just wants the war to end. Most of these people still support Putin, but they are becoming increasingly anti-war.— Yulia Galyamina, opposition politician in Russia
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War & Conflict