During the State Duma election campaign, Vladimir Putin has noticeably stepped up the frequency of his public appearances. The reason is straightforward enough: United Russia positions itself as the “party of the president” or his “team.” News opportunities involving the head of state are, in theory, meant to boost his ratings—and, by extension, those of the United Russia candidates. Yet Putin is operating according to a logic of his own, one that has little to do with campaign messaging. He is turning his public outings into demonstrations of the war’s continuation and its justification.
The persistent appearance of these themes in Putin’s recent speeches, together with his talk of “national cohesion,” suggests that he is not merely holding forth on a favorite subject. He is trying to get his version of events across to an audience that would prefer the war to end. That audience could include the leaders of countries loyal to Moscow, who are increasingly calling for the fighting to stop (Kazakh President Kassym-Jomart Tokayev made the point quite clearly not long ago). It could also include Russia’s own elites, who are absorbing economic losses and still see no positive scenarios for the country’s development.
Speaking to sailors on Navy Day, Putin offered a vague hope that the war would “sooner or later come to an end,” only to pivot immediately to stories of meetings (apparently private ones) with “certain people who help in the rear” – “women and children” who “weave nets and mittens.”
“Several times I heard astonishing words: ‘When the special military operation ends, what will we do?’ They have become so absorbed in this work, they put so much heart into it and feel such a sense of involvement in a great, enormous cause that is needed by Russia, that they begin to feel anxious: will we still be needed the way we are now? That is important,” Putin said with a smile.
At a meeting with outgoing State Duma deputies, Putin described the period of the invasion of Ukraine as “one of the decisive stages in the history of the Fatherland, when the fate and future of our people are at stake.” He went on to talk about the population’s “internal cohesion,” about “ambitious tasks” and the “technological leadership” Russia intends to achieve, and about the “contours of a new world order.” With an undisguised smile he decided to quote a parliamentarian he had just decorated, who allegedly whispered in his ear during the ceremony: “We will win. But we need to be bolder. We really want it.”
On the words “we really want it,” Putin even shrugged his shoulders in a pantomime of impatience, then assured his listeners that “we” (presumably the country’s top leadership and the army) “will act carefully, but persistently and consistently in pursuing the goals set for the country.”
Video clips of Putin speaking with obvious relish about the continuation of the war quickly spread across social media. Such passages will, of course, do nothing to help—and will more likely cost United Russia a few percentage points of its already declining rating, as well as Putin’s own figures, which are subject to clear sociological manipulation. Society is tired of war: every poll shows a majority in favor of negotiations rather than continued fighting. Even systemic representatives of the elites are beginning to speak openly about this fatigue—Sberbank head German Gref, for example.
Putin either holds a completely different view of the level of public support for the war or simply disregards it in favor of his own preferences. The organizers of his events cannot, of course, constrain the presidential stream of consciousness. Judging by the insistence with which he returns to the theme of continuing the war, it is extremely important to him to advertise his position.
By appealing to “certain people” who supposedly fear the end of the war, to anonymous deputies thirsting for victory, and to history itself, Putin is in effect making excuses to external actors and to the elites. The very fact that the president’s speeches sound like responses to explicit complaints about the continuation of the war shows that such complaints exist and are being voiced with growing insistence.
The New “Terrorist”
The FSB has accused Telegram founder Pavel Durov of assisting terrorism. The day before, Vladimir Putin’s press secretary Dmitry Peskov had spoken of contacts between the civilian authorities and the messenger’s team about the possible resumption of its work in Russia.
Telegram has long been a bone of contention between civilian officials in the Kremlin’s political and information blocks and the security services. The former need the messenger for their work—informing, disinforming and running influence operations. The latter are hindered by the free circulation of information it allows. Earlier this year Telegram was blocked in Russia despite weak resistance from civilian officials, who were prepared to accept a ban only after the State Duma elections.
The case against Durov can be read as a countermove to Peskov’s statement and to any talks the “civilians” may have been conducting with the Telegram team. Those talks will now inevitably break off. With them will end the “therapeutic” line of the State Duma campaign, in which systemic players, including United Russia, had been trying to distance themselves from prohibitions.
The Udmurt Anomaly
Vladimir Putin has replaced the former head of Udmurtia, Alexander Brechalov, with Olga Abramova, an adviser to the agriculture minister. Replacing regional heads in the middle of a federal election campaign is extremely rare, so this dismissal qualifies as an extraordinary event. Governors sit at the center of the regional administrative-resource machine, which is organized differently in every territory. A new person in the post must either learn to operate the existing machine or build their own system—and there is naturally no time for either in the middle of an active campaign.
Abramova is a local for Udmurtia. Before moving to the federal government, she held senior posts in the republican administration. Those posts, however, had nothing to do with domestic politics or even the social sphere (public-sector employees being the main base for the application of administrative resources). Brechalov heads the regional part of the United Russia list for the State Duma—and it is now unclear in what capacity he continues to do so.
Alexander Brechalov is a representative of State Duma Speaker Vyacheslav Volodin’s team. Before his appointment as governor, he worked in the All-Russia People’s Front and the Public Chamber when Volodin was still running the Kremlin’s political block. In that sense the resignation of the head of Udmurtia looks entirely logical: the speaker is gradually losing the influence he once enjoyed, which was expressed, among other things, in the presence of his people in the gubernatorial corps. Former Bryansk Region head Alexander Bogomaz has already lost his post; now it is Brechalov’s turn. Volodin still has “his” head of Saratov Region, Roman Busargin. The governor of Volgograd Region, Andrey Bocharov (another alumnus of the People’s Front), is also linked to Volodin.
Yet the gradual clearing-out of Volodin’s regional heads does not answer the main question: why was Brechalov dismissed precisely at the height of the Duma campaign? The argument about his low popularity (true though it is) also fails to explain the situation, given that he continues to head United Russia’s territorial group.
The official explanation is that Brechalov left “of his own free will” in connection with a move to a new job. Contradictory information about where exactly the former head of Udmurtia might be going, however, suggests that a post has not yet been found for him—and it is by no means certain that one will be. Unexpected resignations of this kind usually occur when security-service claims arise against officials. If Brechalov really has run into such problems, he and his patrons have a temporary breathing space in which to sort things out and move quietly to another position. Arresting the head of a United Russia territorial group in a far-from-simple region before the parliamentary elections is unlikely.
Olga Abramova, as already noted, was born and made her career in Udmurtia. The appointment of local cadres has long been discouraged in the Kremlin, so this move also indicates that the decision to dismiss Brechalov was taken suddenly. A local official, even one who has worked in the center, will get to grips with the region’s affairs faster than an outsider with no connection to it—and that matters in the middle of a Duma campaign.
The beneficiaries of Abramova’s appointment can be considered representatives of the Patrushev group. Agriculture Minister Oksana Lut, under whom Abramova worked, is a long-time associate of Deputy Prime Minister Dmitry Patrushev from his days at Rosselkhozbank. The new head of the republic is also said to be close to the large agroholding Komos Group, in whose structures she previously worked.
How far this Kremlin decision has pleased the residents of the republic will be shown by the results of the State Duma elections. If those results are judged unsatisfactory, Olga Abramova—who is already experimenting with the “fashionable” pro-war image favored by officials—risks remaining in the status of acting head and being moved to another job.
