Chapter 4. Transformation of the political regime and legislation in 2020–2021. Destination. Transition to dictatorship

Constitutional coup

The twentieth year of the twenty-first century will be remembered by Russian constitutionalists for a long time, and not only by them. The citizens had not yet recovered after the long New Year’s holidays, when on January 15, Vladimir Putin addressed the Federal Assembly1 with a message initiating constitutional reform, although he had repeatedly opposed any changes to the Constitution over the course of a number of years. He had said that he would not allow this “under any circumstances,” rightly fearing that once the mechanism of introducing amendments to the country’s Basic Law was launched, it would be difficult to stop. Moreover, changes in the Constitution might lead to an “unstable situation.” But, apparently, the situation of the upcoming transition in the conditions of the deterioration of the economic situation, the growing social tension and the decrease in the ratings of the authorities required immediate actions to create institutional and legislative support for the regime. Lawyers call such situations defensive constitutionalism.2

On the same day, January 15, 2020, a working group was formed urgently, one not provided for by any norms, for the preparation of proposals for introducing amendments to the Constitution, consisting of 75 people, which, however, everyone called the constitutional commission for some reason. Some members of this “commission” read the Constitution of Russia for the first time.3 On January 23, the Duma adopted the draft submitted by the president in its first reading. After this, during a period of less than two months, the project was corrected and refined. As a result, by the second reading, the text of the original bill almost doubled in length, and the volume of the new version of the Constitution increased by approximately 50%. There were finally 206 amendments (205 plus one about “zeroing out”), which affected forty-one articles of the Constitution, from the 3rd to the 8th chapter. All the amendments were considered together as one, which categorically contradicted the procedure of introducing amendments to the Constitution. As a result, in just four days (March 10, 11, 12, and 13), the amendments were wholesale approved by both chambers of the parliament and all 85 legislative assemblies of the Federation subjects.

On March 16, the Constitutional Court of the Russian Federation, having no authority to do so, but favourably considering the appeal of the President, confirmed the conformity of the amendments to the Constitution. At the same time, it abstained from considering their merits. Specialist in constitutional law Olga Kryazhkova believes that the court’s decision to “zero out” or nullify the term of the president is political: “If it is approached from the point of view of the values of a democratic legal state (Article 1 of the Constitution), the answer is obvious: such an amendment cannot be introduced, since it will go against the constitutional idea of changeability of power.” Law professor Ilya Shablinskiy claims that there are no grounds for zeroing out or “nullification” of the president’s terms: “If the Constitutional Court must evaluate the amendment on nullification of terms even before it enters into force, then the court does not have such powers and rights either in the Constitution nor in the law of the Constitutional Court. But if we speak about the court evaluating this amendment after it takes effect, then the court probably has to take account of its decision of 1998. How will it be able to nullify Putin’s four terms if it admitted that Yeltsin was elected for a second term in 1996, although he was elected for his first term under the already repealed Constitution of the RSFSR? From a constitutional and legal point of view, all this looks completely ridiculous and, to put it mildly, strange.” But at the same time, in his opinion, due to the dependence of the Constitutional Court on the president, there was no chance that the judges would strike down the amendment on zeroing out terms.4

The Venice Commission of the Council of Europe had many complaints about such a constitutional reform, as it reported in its official opinion. As such, the amendments continue to be examined by the commission. But one thing is already clear: most of them, including the most famous, the so-called “zeroing out” amendment about presidential terms, do not correlate in any way with the unchangeable chapters of the Constitution; moreover, the amendments contradict those chapters and block their operation. At a minimum, they significantly change the system of separation of powers in Russia.

Given the nature and scope of the amendments to the Constitution, the proper legal form for their introduction could only be in the form of a new Constitution. The Constitutional Amendment Law is not what it claims to be: it passes off a large number of heterogeneous amendments, some of which intrude into the scope of the provisions of the unchangeable parts, as one amendment. In addition, the law establishes an ad hoc procedure for the adoption of amendments, which is a mix of the procedures for adopting one amendment and the procedure for adopting a new Constitution, but as a result does not correspond to any of the ways prescribed in the current Constitution to amend it. The law also defines in the most general form the rules of “all-Russian voting,” which do not correspond to the forms of establishing the people’s will described in the Constitution. As a result, the amendments cannot be considered properly adopted in terms of the requirements of the current Constitution of Russia.5 “Zeroing out” along with “self-isolation” became the word of 2020, according to the A. S. Pushkin State Institute of the Russian Language.6

Here is a brief description of what happened as described by Vladimir Pastukhov:

After a quarter of a century of exhausting struggle, political power devoured financial power, in connection with which even the appearance of any restrictions on its autocracy disappeared. The simulacrum of the Constitution once again ceased to fit into the style of the era, and in 2020 it was rewritten for new tasks. Today in Russia there is a simulacrum of a Military Constitution. In fact, it is the shortest constitution in the world. Its text can be reduced to just one article: “For the sake of victory over the enemy of power, everything is possible.” Old man Carl Schmitt7 is turning over in his grave and trying to dictate a statement to Dissernet about plagiarism.

And what did the amendments not contain! Contrary to the statement in the message about the increase in the role and importance of the parliament, this increase did not happen. On the other hand, we saw even greater centralization to the detriment of federalism, another expansion of presidential powers, an increase in the dependence of the judiciary, a decrease in the role of constitutional justice and the “murder” of constitutional courts of the subjects of the Federation, the virtual elimination of local self-government, another restriction of passive suffrage and a violation of the equality of citizens in access to government service.8 Not to mention any other, useless and extremely harmful ideological inclusions that have nothing to do with the original constitutional model and its idea. Everything that should have been removed or improved was left intact—for example, say, part 3 of article 80 on the president’s determination of the foundations of the country’s domestic and foreign policy. Not an article, but the dream of a post-Soviet autocrat—it is not for nothing that many countries that were once part of the USSR reproduced it in their constitutions. Among the amendments of 2020, there is not one that would be really necessary. But there are a lot which openly violate the provisions of the unchangeable chapters 1 and 2 of the Constitution. So far, they have not dared to officially remove some of the foundations of the constitutional order from the text of the Constitution, although proposals to remove the ban on the establishment of a state ideology and the primacy of international law have already been repeatedly offered. But they made such changes to other chapters that blatantly contradict a number of norms from the two unchangeable chapters. The result was an indelible disfigurement of the text of the Basic Law according to which the country will continue to live. And the Constitution as a symbol is now forever separated from the Constitution as a text. For ten years now, they have been using it as a fetish, ignoring the real content. All this was very reminiscent of a scene from the wonderful film “The Very Same Munchausen.” The baron’s hometown was getting ready to celebrate the anniversary of his death. The appearance of a living Munchausen brought confusion, culminating in the brilliant phrase: “Tomorrow is the anniversary of your death. Are you trying to ruin our holiday?” Ekaterina Mishina, a brilliant constitutionalist, wrote about all this on social networks. It is obvious that, despite the talk about strengthening the parliament, the next president, whatever his name, will benefit more from the reform than will anyone else.

Two amendments caused particularly great public response. First and foremost, of course, was the “zeroing out” amendment, which completed yet another fork in the trajectory of Russian authoritarianism when it came time to decide how Putin would retain power beyond his last term. It seems that it was after long and unsuccessful attempts to achieve what was desired by uniting with Belarus that it was decided to carry out a constitutional reform, hiding the “zeroing” amendment at the very end of the procedure with its submission by a single deputy, and not coming from the president himself. Of course, a more natural option for electoral authoritarianism would be with Putin at the head of an all-powerful State Council and a politically weak successor in the role of president, much like Nursultan Nazarbayev did in Kazakhstan. But in the end, Putin apparently considered this option too risky, and his fears were soon confirmed by the latest events in Kazakhstan. Therefore, we got what was to be expected—the “zeroing out.” Putin may now remain in power until 2036, and the element of personal dictatorship in the Russian political regime is dramatically increased.9

To be fair, the President of Russia was not at all original in making such a decision. The manipulation of constitutional norms in order to extend the time spent in the presidential office is a well-known phenomenon. Back in the first half of the 20th century, it was called continuismo. The use of the Spanish word is due to the fact that it is in Latin American countries that early became electoral democracies with predominantly presidential systems that the problem of limiting presidential terms has long been one of the central constitutional and political issues. In total, according to the estimates of a modern researcher, since 1945 there have been 129 episodes of this kind of “prolongation” in the world. But if in the 20th century the countries of Latin America were the champions in continuismo, then in the last 30 years about 70% of all cases have been in the countries of the former USSR and Africa. In countries where the regime becomes non-competitive, the logics of the political and constitutional processes of movement towards dictatorship are firmly intertwined. If the presidential side manages to take control of a reliable majority in parliament, the relative autonomy of the prime minister assumed by the constitutional construction turns into a fiction, and the president becomes de facto both the head of state and the head of the executive branch. In the absence of powerful resistance in the elites or on the streets, this allows him to carry out a further expansion of presidential powers—first de facto, and then constitutionally.10

The second amendment, which caused heated debate, concerns Article 79 of the Constitution. The amendment introduced to this article establishes a rule according to which “decisions of international bodies adopted on the basis of the provisions of international treaties of the Russian Federation in an interpretation that contradicts the Constitution of the Russian Federation shall not be enforceable in the Russian Federation.” It received the popular name “amendment on the priority of Russian law over international law.” The idea was also not new: back in 2010, the chairman of the Constitutional Court of Russia, Valery Zorkin, personally advanced it in his extremely controversial (to put it mildly) article “The Limit of Compliance,”11 which caused sharp criticism from scholars. He openly suggested using the Constitution as a defense mechanism against decisions of the European Court of Human Rights (ECtHR): “When certain decisions of the Strasbourg Court are dubious from the point of view of the essence of the European Convention on Human Rights itself and, moreover, directly affect national sovereignty, and fundamental constitutional principles, Russia has the right to develop a defense mechanism against such decisions. It is through the prism of the Constitution that the problem of the correlation between the decisions of the Constitutional Court and the ECtHR should be resolved. If we are forced by external “direction” of the legal situation in the country, which ignores the historical, cultural, and social situation, then such “directors” must be corrected. Sometimes in the most decisive way.” After 10 years, his proposal gained constitutional recognition. The amendment was perceived as a complete refusal by Russia to comply with its international treaties. The Russian establishment, including the president, had to make excuses for a long time and assure the Russian and international audience that this was not so, that such regulation can only be used in exceptional cases. Nevertheless, by virtue of this amendment, the Constitution can be used as a fly swatter, with which the Russian leadership will brush off its international obligations when it suits it.

And only one amendment—the removal of the word “in a row” from the article on the terms of presidential powers—not only did not cause controversy among anyone, but was actively supported by experts. One day, the time will come when this amendment will limit the possibility of personalistic retention of the presidency and this will give the system greater institutional stability: the president would be strong, but replaceable, and all other institutions will balance each other. Provided that, of course, that time comes under the current Constitution.

Formally, it was quite enough for the authorities to approve the amendments by the chambers of parliament and a certain number of the highest legislative bodies of the subjects. But the level of trust in the federal representative bodies by this time was already so low that it seemed insufficient. To further legitimize the amendments, it was decided to hold another public action—to approve them by a popular vote, which is not provided for by any rules for amending the Constitution, which is not a referendum or a “plebiscite,” as some commentators called it. This is in the nature of a one-time artifact, a parody of direct democracy like the yes-yes-no-yes referendum of 1991, only outside the strict rules of the referendum. Overlapping in time with the peak of the COVID-19 pandemic, this vote played a very peculiar role in realizing the calculations that the authorities relied on when announcing the constitutional reform.

As Vladimir Putin rightly assumed in his time, the introduction of amendments to the Constitution, reinforced by the campaign for their popular approval, opened a Pandora’s box and led to a serious destabilization of the domestic political situation. Paradoxically, the interest of the population in the Constitution increased many times over, the discussion about the amendments swept the whole country, and their true nature, which the authorities did not want to advertise too much or tried to gloss over, came out in all their authoritarian glory. As evidenced by the available data of public opinion polls, in its attitude to the constitutional amendments, society turned out to be split into two equal groups, supporters and opponents. At the same time, the group of opponents of the amendments was dominated by the younger and middle aged, while supporters were mainly concentrated in the older age group (over 55). Such data not only undermines the legitimacy of the voting results and constitutional reform, but also the very foundations of Vladimir Putin’s legitimacy as a plebiscitic leader. The resulting split and decline in support forced the Kremlin, among other things, to put pressure on sociological centers in order to limit public awareness of these trends in public opinion.12

As a result, instead of strong constitutional pillars of the regime, a very shaky structure resulted, which in itself strengthened and stabilized little, so it had to change its qualitative state. If the legal props do not work well, the only thing left to do is to rely on violence and repression to hold on to power.

Constitutional authoritarianism, constitutional dictatorship, authoritarian legalism, presidential principate?

We are forced to state that this is the very case when lawyers who operate with definitions are practically powerless in accurately diagnosing the state that the Russian political regime reached by 2020. Experts define it in different ways. “Now we should talk about the regime as constitutional authoritarianism, even a constitutional dictatorship,” writes Andrey Medushevsky.13 He also uses the term “authoritarian legalism.” Grigory Golosov calls this period “the decline of electoral authoritarianism” and affirms the transition from post-democracy to dictatorship.14 Kirill Rogov calls the new regime a “presidential principate” or dictatorship.15 Sociologist Sergei Erofeev has the same opinion, congratulating Russians on the new system, stating that in 2021 Russia has moved from electoral authoritarianism to a full-fledged dictatorship.16

In fact, there is no clear definition of dictatorship in political science, with the exception of the widely known Leninist definition of the dictatorship of the proletariat, learned by heart by several generations, in which two essential features are named: reliance on violence and power unbound by any laws.17 A clear definition of such regimes is very far away, according to famous American political scientist Jennifer Ghandi. What cases can be qualified as “democracy?” What variants should be described as “dictatorships?” When confronted with the brutality of Joseph Stalin or Pol Pot, the second question seems to be easily answered: no one will dispute the labeling of their regimes as dictatorships. All dictatorships are, of course, autocracies. In addition, dictators are very resourceful in how they organize their own rule. Decision-making can be concentrated in a wide variety of institutions, including but not limited to juntas, politburos, and family councils.18 Therefore, from an institutional point of view, all definitions here will not be accurate.

The historical path of dictatorships is long. The institution, which originated in ancient Rome, originally carried positive connotations: it was understood as a set of effective means by which the political system coped with internal and external threats. In difficult times, the elites put forward a man capable of taking decisive action to restore the political status quo. After resolving existing problems, the dictator, having fulfilled his mission, left the stage.

The opposition between democracy and dictatorship is a phenomenon of the 20th century. According to Kelsen, “it is more expedient to single out not three, but only two types of constitutions: democratic and autocratic.”19 In any case, all dictatorships turn out to be regimes where there are no competitive elections, no rule of law, no political and civil rights, and no regular renewal of power. The fundamental point is that they gain power bypassing the “competitive struggle for popular votes.”

The variety of dictatorships based on external characteristics should not obscure the main difference inherent in all dictatorships and which separates them from democracies—the absence of competitive elections. Although dictatorships have other features as well. For example, an oppressive and despotic form of government, established by force or intimidation, allowing one person or group to monopolize political power without constitutional restrictions, thereby destroying representative government, the political rights of citizens, and any organized opposition.20

For example, the regime of Alexander Lukashenko, who lost the presidential elections in Belarus in 2020, but continues to remain in power, is given a clear definition—a “closed dictatorship.” Unlike an authoritarian regime, a closed dictatorship does not need to play imitation, it is possible to throw off all the masks and maintain power solely by force; no one doubts the nature of the regime. But in this exclusive bet on strength lies the vulnerability of the dictator. The phrase attributed to Napoleon, “You can do anything with bayonets, you just can’t sit on them,” describing the instability of regimes based on bare power, is only partly true, as modern political science shows. Closed dictatorships that have dismantled the institution of elections, which include both military junta regimes and regimes built around a single tyrant, indeed live shorter lives than other types of autocracies. But the problem is that the fall of a closed dictatorship almost never leads to democratization—it is simply replaced by another dictatorship. This is due to two processes occurring in regimes of this type.

Over time, the dictator, in fact, becomes a hostage to the power elites, who, with the growth of powers, acquire greater independence and political ambitions. A clash with the interests and ambitions of the dictator and his entourage can lead to conflict and an attempted coup. Then one regime is replaced by another without changing its essence. An alternative “soft coup” scenario is realized when a dictator, driven by the constant need to increase the level of repression due to the actions of dissenters, gives more and more powers and resources to the security forces. Then a one-time coup d’état does not occur, but over time, key decisions are made by representatives of the power elites already without the dictator himself. In such a situation, the dictator acts as a screen for the actions of the security forces.

Guarantees against prosecution for committed violence are provided only by the preservation of the nature of the current regime. And even if the dictator under whom these crimes were committed did not stay in power, the incentives for maintaining the status quo and prolonging the life of the regime in its new version are extremely high among representatives of law enforcement agencies with such accumulations of wealth.21

Russia’s experience shows that as authoritarianism consolidates, the differences between post-democratic regimes and other types of authoritarian regimes, many of which were highly repressive from the outset, are gradually leveling out. Accordingly, electoral authoritarianism not only gradually loses its outward resemblance to democracy, but also increasingly demonstrates the dynamics of development inherent in autocracies (including dictatorships) as such. Lawyers, who are very fond of definitions, still want to highlight some features that are generally characteristic of dictatorships as a special kind of autocracy. And these signs, it seems, consist in the degree of repressiveness (cannibalistic character) of the regime and complete disregard for the law. Although the limit of the level of repressiveness after which we can confidently state the onset of a state of dictatorship is still difficult to measure. Lukashenko clearly and instantaneously exceeded this level. In Russia, the growth of repressiveness and state legal nihilism occurred gradually.

A lawyer by training, Vladimir Putin first used the word “dictatorship” publicly before he was president in February 2000 in an “open letter to voters.” He spoke of the “dictatorship of the law.” This previously unknown formula puzzled jurists, although it was immediately clear that this was a kind of generic, Russified palliative to the rule of law.22 That is, from the very beginning, Putin went even further than the Soviet interpretation of socialist legality and the rule of law. In the official documents of perestroika, the rights and freedoms of citizens were proclaimed as the most important element of a socialist legal state, but they were placed in a firm framework of certain socio-political boundaries—they were limited to permission granted by laws and a “commitment to socialist ideals,” since “the Soviet political system, open to all the best from world democratic experience, is a system based on its own socialist values.”23 According to the authors of perestroika, “the process of creating a state of law is, first of all, the process of ensuring the rule of law.”24 “In the conditions of the democratic and legal state to which we aspire, there cannot and should not be any other way of political action than reliance on the law.”25

The dictatorship of law is an even more sophisticated concept, bearing in mind the path that the Russian government has taken since 2000, through the formation of a dependent and completely controlled parliament, which produces on stamped paper with incredible speed any words and rules that are ordered to be unconditionally followed. The law has become just one of the tools that has no value of its own, which the state is free to remake for current needs, and the “dictatorship” over the past 23 years has clarified its meaning that the court is a superfluous link here. Therefore, from a legal point of view, the established regime is still a dictatorship, consisting in state coercion in the enforcement of arbitrarily changing regulation of a non-legal nature, but having the appearance of law.

All right, then. The model of a closed corrupt dictatorship was brilliantly and humorously described by Arkady and Boris Strugatsky back in 1965 in the story “Monday Starts on Saturday.” One of the mediocre scientists, contrary to the warnings of his colleagues, tried to conduct an experiment on the artificial cloning of a giant spirit. The experiment led to a cataclysm, when the model planned by the failed experimenter (a completely unsatisfied cadaver) tried to “consume all the material values ​​that it could reach, pupate, collapse space and stop time.” And the experimenter still could not understand that the true giant of the spirit does not consume so much as it thinks and feels. Isn’t it familiar? State corruption, confiscation of other people’s property, the iron curtain, political loneliness, stagnation, underdevelopment, degradation…

After the constitutional coup, “Putin has become not so much a guarantor of the regime’s survival as a long-term threat to it. In fact, having abandoned the liberal-democratic shell, the personal dictatorship is increasingly based on the power apparatus. At the same time, Putin does not at all take into account either the risks arising from this situation, which in the future may be resolved by establishing the direct power of the security forces, or the dissatisfaction of part of the ruling class with the dominance of people from security forces in the economic life of the country.”26

Transformation of the electoral legislation 2020–2021

Two major votes took place in two years, at a time when the Russian political regime had to finally shed its imitation democratic veils and move into a state of dictatorship: the All-Russian vote on amendments to the Constitution and the elections to the State Duma. Both, from the point of view of achieving results, are incredibly important for retaining power in new conditions and with new methods. Both occurredin the context of quarantine restrictions and a gradual decline in the ratings of the authorities. Both could not be lost in any case. Chronologically, voting on the amendments was the first, and this turned out to be extremely convenient for the Duma elections following it, since the legal basis for the all-Russian vote was extremely advantageous for the authorities, which meant that it was possible to introduce and test new rules without any problems. The conduct of voting was established by the Law “On Amending the Constitution,”27 which was adopted in March 2020 and according to which the voting method and procedure were completely “at the mercy” of the CEC. Unlike elections, where the main changes must be formalized by law, it was pure discretion.

There are eight main changes in the electoral legislation, some of which were transferred to the law from the CEC documents.

1. Remote electronic voting (Russ. abbr. DEG) and other new methods of voting. Initially, the remote electronic voting experiment was exclusively Moscow-based, initiated by the Moscow Public Chamber and tested in the Moscow City Duma elections in 2019. Remote voting was supposed to be held in three single-mandate constituencies using the portal of public services of the city of Moscow and specially developed software based on blockchain technology. The federal law became the legal basis for electronic voting, which, however, did not contain a sufficient amount of regulation, describing only the general contours of the experiment, and left the detailed regulation to the regional legislator.28 The voting software was developed in an extreme rush. This resulted in the system not being properly prepared and tested by election day. During all test launches of the system, critical errors occurred, which also happened on election day, when the system was unavailable for several hours, which led to ambiguous results for one of the constituencies and to a high-profile scandal. Ex-candidate for the Moscow City Duma Roman Yuneman complained to the Constitutional Court of the Russian Federation about the rules of remote electronic voting that were in force in Moscow during the 2019 elections.29

The idea of remote electronic voting itself is, of course, promising and important, but the proposed method of its implementation does not protect the rights of all election participants: there are no guaranteed ways to control that the voter personally votes without any coercion; how is the secrecy of the vote maintained; how is the accuracy of the vote countensured? Is the impossibility of its falsification ensured? In general, the proposed procedure is not completely transparent and is lacking in exercise of oversight by observers. Moreover, given the complexity of the software, one of the departments of the Moscow City Hall was actually involved in the organization and conduct of elections at electronic polling stations, which means that there were grounds to assume that the executive authorities interfered in the process, which categorically contradicts the requirements of the electoral legislation.30 However, despite all the criticisms of the remote voting system, after the Moscow elections, it was proposed to continue the experiment and extend it to several regions.

During the all-Russian voting on amendments to the Constitution, remote electronic voting was held in Moscow and the Nizhny Novgorod region; the number of votes cast electronically was 964,000 (about 15% of registered voters) and 129,000 (about 5% of registered voters) respectively. In Moscow, electronic voting, having significantly increased the overall turnout, only slightly increased the “Yes” result in non-rigged polling stations, while lowering the overall official result, while in Nizhny Novgorod it had little effect on turnout and lowered the final result given the traditional mass falsifications in ordinary voting “on paper.”

In the 2021 parliamentary elections, all the problems and shortcomings of remote electronic voting manifested themselves in full force, in fact, completely changing the results of voting in single-mandate constituencies in Moscow, which radically undermined confidence in the system for a long time, up to and includingthe appearance of a firm demand for its complete abolition.

2. The possibility of postponing voting. The first important change was the granting to election commissions of the right to postpone voting under the pretext (in case) of the introduction of a high alert or state of emergency in the territory where the elections are held.31 The new rules, quite obviously, were adopted “based on” the pandemic, complete with a large set of amendments to the legislation on protecting the population from emergencies. It would seem that the changes are quite justified: how to hold elections in an epidemic? However, amendments to the Constitution had already been voted…

A rehearsal for the postponement of the vote took place in 2020. Initially, when Vladimir Putin came up with the initiative to amend the Constitution, the vote was scheduled for April 22. But Prime Minister Mikhail Mishustin and Moscow Mayor Sergei Sobyanin were able to convince the president to move it to a later date. The peak of the incidence of infection was expected at the end of April. As a result, on March 25, Putin addressed the nation and postponed the voting date. However, he did not wait for the pandemic to end completely and issued a decree on June 1 that scheduled the vote for July 1. On the same day, CEC head Ella Pamfilova said that voting “would be even safer than taking part in other events already permitted,” and even safer “than going to the store.”

Prior to the amendment on the possibility to postpone voting, only the holding of elections could be postponed, and even then, subject to the introduction of a state of emergency, and not an emergency situation. The procedure for introducing the state of emergency is regulated by the law of the same name: a decree of the President of the Russian Federation is issued, approved by the Federation Council of the Russian Federation, and the total period for introducing the regime is strictly limited to 30 days for the whole country and 60 days for certain areas.32 Unlike the state of emergency, the operation of a high alert regime is not limited by a deadline (in most regions such a regime had been in effect for more than a year), and the act on its introduction is adopted by the head of the subject of the Federation without any formal confirmation by the legislative assembly.

The amendment allows regional election commissions and the Central Election Commission to postpone voting at elections of any level, including federal, at their discretion, on the basis of acts of governors on the introduction of a high alert regime. The existence of such an act is the only specific condition for postponement. Everything else is within the scope of discretion of the election commissions. By the way, the solution to the issue of changing the timing of the election campaign caused by the postponement is also referred there—the election commission is not bound by any requirements in this case.

3. New ways to vote. Multi-day voting. First, the changes also affected the voting procedure. So, for 2020, an experiment on voting at digital polling stations in Moscow was extended.33 To put it simply, such a change allows a resident of the region in which “by-elections” of deputies of the State Duma of the Russian Federation or regional elections are held to vote while in Moscow. For voters who have moved to the capital but retained their residence registration in another region, this really provides an opportunity to take part in the elections.

In May 2020, a law was passed expanding opportunities to vote early or outside the polling station. It is worth recalling that early voting is assessed by many experts as carrying an increased risk of violations and falsifications. More than once there were proposals to completely abandon it in favor of “home-based” voting and the possibility of changing the polling station through the “Mobile Voter” service. Ella Pamfilova, Chairperson of the Central Election Commission, herself spoke about the great falsification risks of early voting.34 Now it is possible to organize early voting when using absentee ballots—previously either one or the other was allowed. Secondly, early voting has been introduced in places where there are no voting premises and transport links are difficult. Thirdly, it became possible to conduct voting both on the main day and ahead of schedule, in the grounds surrounding a building and in other places suitable for this. The list of grounds for “at home” voting, which previously included only illness and disability, is now open. Finally, the option of conducting remote electronic or postal voting appeared at elections at all levels.35 Some of these innovations were borrowed from the procedure for holding the All-Russian vote to approve amendments to the Constitution, but even there the variability in the methods and forms of voting was less.

Two months later, in July 2021, the legislator granted the election commissions organizing elections the right to decide on holding multi-day voting.36 As we understand, multi-day voting (popularly, “voting on stumps”) also migrated to the electoral legislation from the all-Russian voting on amendments, which, according to the decision of the Central Election Commission, lasted for seven whole days. The result of the experiment was recognized as successful and recommended for further implementation. We are talking about the “basic” voting, and not about early voting. Now, if necessary, you can gain more votes in any form and in any way: for example, in holding multi-day voting in the local area, in the workshop, at work, that is, any time and place it is convenient. “Multiple days of voting led to a significant reduction in the protection of citizens’ rights to free expression of will,” says Stanislav Andreychuk, member of the board of the Golos movement (recognized as a foreign agent). “Firstly, it is very poorly controlled. Six months ago, CEC Chairwoman Pamfilova publicly stated that home-based and early voting created a lot of opportunities for coercion and falsification, and now the CEC itself has opened the door for this.”

All of these amendments gave the election commissions almost unlimited powers to determine the voting procedure: it can be stretched out over several days, held not only indoors, but also outdoors, preceded by early voting in one format or another. Such latitude of discretion is clearly excessive—too many variables are made dependent on the will of the election commission, and not on the provisions of the law. In practice, this also led to a significant complication of the conditions for observation: it is simply impossible to ensure effective public oversight in several places at the same time, and even for several days without using administrative resources.

4. New rules for collecting signatures. Amendments were also made to the procedure for collecting signatures required for registration of candidates and party lists. Briefly, they can be described as one step forward and three steps back.

Let’s start with the step forward. Now it is possible to collect signatures through the State Services portal. The undoubted advantage of such a collection method is that the electronic signature is extremely difficult to reject during verification. But it is precisely at the stage of verifying signatures that in the overwhelming majority of cases a significant part of opposition candidates is cut off. However, a step back was immediately taken, since the norm turned out to be half-hearted: no more than 50% of signatures can be collected through the portal, the rest must be on paper. And even then, provided that the decision on the electronic collection is embodied in a regional law.37 In 2020, such amendments were adopted only in the Perm Territory, Chuvashia and the Chelyabinsk Region.38

Another step back was the new rule for filling out the signature sheet. If earlier the hand of the signatory voter only needed to fill in the date of signing and put the signature itself, and the collector could accurately and legibly write down the rest, now the voter himself must enter his full name on the sheet.39 As practice shows, the election commissions and the specialists of the Ministry of Internal Affairs involved in the verification sometimes make gross mistakes, comparing the entries in the sheets with the data from the State Automated System (GAS) “Vybory” and the databases of the Ministry of Internal Affairs. Not to mention the handwriting specialists working according to a secret methodology, who are capable of finding “coincidences” of handwriting among thousands of signatures in a matter of hours and, most importantly, without making a mistake.

However, the most significant deterioration in the procedure for registration by signatures was the reduction in the level of acceptable “defects.” Until 2020, a candidate could turn in signatures with a 10% margin (that is, turn in 110% of the signatures required for registration), of which up to 10% of signatures from the number of verified ones could be rejected without refusal of registration. Now, no more than 5%.40 For comparison, before 2005 this figure was 25%. It should be borne in mind that among the signatures there is always a little “defect,” five to seven percent. These are the costs of the “field conditions” of collecting: filling out a sheet while holding up the paper, and often outside, banal slips of the pen and blots from a trembling hand. Exactly for this reason, signatures are surrendered with a margin. Now the limit of “defect” is not enough even for such mistakes. The current practice of verifying signatures is very poor. At almost every stage of it, a signature can be invalidated, and for almost any reason, which is practically impossible to successfully challenge in court. With 5% of acceptable “defect,” the issue of registering a candidate or a party list finally moved into the category of political, not legal. And no 50% of signatures through the State Services can help in this situation.

5. New electoral qualifications. As we have already said, the history of non-constitutional qualifications for passive suffrage in Russian legislation dates back to 2006, and the qualifications for a criminal record occupy a special position in it. Apart from age and citizenship, the Russian Constitution before the 2020 changes, in principle, contained only two general restrictions on the right to be elected: being in places of deprivation of liberty and being declared legally incompetent—in both cases by a court decision that had entered into force.41 These restrictions are contained in the 2nd, unchangeable chapter of the Constitution—on the rights and freedoms of man and citizen. For starters, in 2006 the opportunity to run for office was closed to persons sentenced to imprisonment and having an unexpunged or outstanding conviction for grave and especially grave crimes, as well as for extremism. Then, 10 years for those convicted of serious crimes and 15 years for especially serious ones were added on top of the terms of a criminal record.42 The total term of restriction, therefore, includes the deprivation of liberty itself, the term of a criminal record and an additional term under the electoral law, and can reach 50 years.

The amendments adopted in May 2020 expanded the list of crimes that lead to the deprivation of the right to run by adding 50 articles (!) of the Criminal Code of medium-gravity offenses to it. The scheme is the same: the term of conviction to imprisonment (even conditional or suspended) is up to 5 years, then up to 3 years of a criminal record and 5 years “on top,” according to the election law. Total: up to 13 years.

Apparently, in order to limit the political competition of the opposition, it has become problematic to prosecute only under grave or especially grave articles. It took an expansion of the field for legal arbitrariness for political purposes. In the list of offenses, you can find a whole galaxy of offenses of fraud, misappropriation with embezzlement, “fake” news, “Dadin’s” article 212.1 (repeated violation of the law on public events) and much more. But there is not a single offense about violations in public procurement and other crimes of medium gravity committed by officials.

The main problem of the new qualifications is their deliberate unconstitutionality and disproportion. They do not correspond in any way with the constitutional provisions on the right to participate in the management of state affairs, neither formally nor in meaning. Suffrage is the basis of popular representation and one of the markers of the political regime. Restriction of the right to run for election is permissible only in exceptional cases, if there are convincing grounds to believe that otherwise it is impossible to form a legitimate composition of the elected body. A conviction for crimes of average gravity cannot be such a basis—it does not indicate a sufficient public danger caused by the person. An attempt to decide for the voter in this way the question of whether this or that candidate is worthy of an elective office, almost certainly means another attempt to limit political competition, and not to allow opponents to run for election. And the less heavy the offenses that go into the bans, the more obvious this goal becomes.

6. Candidates are foreign agents. In April 2021, such concepts as candidates who are foreign agents and candidates affiliated with foreign agents “crept” into the electoral legislation.43

The term “foreign agent” in our legislation appeared in 2012 and initially referred only to non-profit organizations.44 A whole dissertation could be devoted to a detailed description of all the flaws in this design. We will only say that the criteria for recognition as a foreign agent are endless, up to the almost complete freedom of discretion of the Ministry of Justice. In 2017, it became possible to classify the media as foreign agents, and in 2019, “individuals recognized as media and as performing the functions of a foreign agent” appeared.45

In December 2020, simply natural persons-foreign agents appeared, without any references to the media.46 The criteria for recognition as such are just as vague: participation in political activity, which can be defined as anything, in the interests and with support (even intangible) from a foreign source.47 It is these persons included in the special list that will be recognized as “foreign agent candidates.”

As for candidates affiliated with foreign agents, they include members of governing bodies, founders, members and participants of NGO-foreign agents, including unregistered public associations, leaders and founders of media outlets-foreign agents, as well as persons who carried out political activities and received funding from any foreign agents.

It is fundamentally important to note that the affiliation criteria have a two-year retroactive effect—now it will no longer be possible to “disown” a foreign agent. According to the position of the Constitutional Court, giving retroactive effect to a law in relations between the state and the individual is permissible only when it favors the interests of the individual.48 Here, on the contrary, the rights of the individual are infringed. A citizen undergoes negative consequences (and the recognition of affiliation with a foreign agent, of course, entails such consequences) for actions that were lawful at the time of their commission, for which he could not have expected such consequences—the law simply did not yet contain them. And a citizen could not in any way foresee them, no matter how conscientious and law-abiding he was. It is impossible to get rid of the received status and related restrictions otherwise than after waiting two years. Such a norm is openly discriminatory, and its adoption on the eve of the start of the federal campaign left no time for challenging it in the Constitutional Court of the Russian Federation. And even if such a challenge is mounted later and succeeds, the damage in this election will already be done.

The stigma of a foreign agent, designed to scare off voters, must be indicated by the candidate during nomination, entered into the signature lists (under the threat of invalidating all signatures collected on the sheet) and included in all campaign materials, devoting at least 15% of the area or volume of the material to it, or making it “clearly audible.” This information must also be placed on stands at polling stations and included in the text of the ballot.49 The set of requirements is even greater than in the case of a criminal record—that, at least, does not need to be indicated in campaign materials. Apparently, foreign agents are more socially dangerous for the legislator than persons convicted of especially grave crimes.

The requirements to indicate the status of a foreign agent candidate, as well as the very fact of the existence of such a status, are aimed at limiting political competition. The issue of recognition as an agent or a person affiliated with one is a matter of political discretion of the law enforcer under conditions of extreme legal uncertainty of the law. In fact, for a politician or activist, even a symbolic transfer from a foreign source received two years ago would put them at risk.

7. Extrajudicial blocking of sites and the abolition of the “day of silence.” Another important block concerns the election campaign. In March 2021, the Central Election Commission, regional and territorial election commissions received the right to apply to Roskomnadzor with a request to suppress the dissemination of campaign materials on the Internet that were produced or distributed in violation of the requirements of the law.50 In fact, we are talking about the right of electoral commissions to demand extrajudicial blocking of sites or individual Internet pages, the content of which the electoral commission regards as illegal campaigning. At the same time, the electoral legislation still does not contain a full-fledged special regulation of campaigning on the Internet. It is subject to the general rules on campaign materials, including the need to indicate its circulation on the website and submit its printout to the election commission in advance. Yes, yes, the circulation of the Internet page—CEC Secretary M.V. Grishina confirmed this in her response to a request in August 2020.51 Taking into account the fact that the definition of campaigning given in the law does not always make it possible to unequivocally separate it from informing (which does not have the goal of inducing the voter to vote one way or another) and such a decision is often subjective in nature, it is likely that we will face a wave of blocking of websites, pages in social networks, and possibly pages of online media—anything that will contain any information about opposition candidates.

Together with the out-of-court blocking of websites, the Central Election Commission was also given the amazing authority to establish the “features” of the production and distribution of campaign materials in the elections to the State Duma.52 What kind of features the CEC can establish is still unknown: in the norm there is only a reference to the “taking into account the requirements” of the law, which again leaves room for interpretation by the law enforcer.

Literally on the eve of the May holidays of 2021, the so-called “day of silence” was canceled—the ban on election campaigning on the day preceding voting day—during multi-day voting.53 Campaigning was banned only for the day(s) of voting itself and the Saturday before voting day, if there is such a day. The latter, however, now seems unlikely: too many opportunities open up for the organizers of the elections with a three-day declaration of the will of the people. On the one hand, the cancellation of the “day of silence” during multi-day voting looks like a technical change—on the day of voting, it is impossible to campaign anyway. However, nothing prevented the establishment of such a ban on the eve of the day the multi-day voting began. After all, its main idea is to give the voter at least a day to make a well-considered and balanced decision without constant information pressure. Of course, the ban is actively violated, especially when campaigning on the Internet, but its complete abolition seems premature.

8. Other prohibitions and restrictions. There were other changes as well. For example, along with the “day of silence” amendment, the possibility of appealing against a refusal to register a candidate to a higher commission was canceled; now this can only be done through the courts.54 To summarize: 2021 turned out to be a very “fruitful” year for all sorts of prohibitions, restrictions and additional bureaucracy, which fully corresponds to the new state of the political regime.

Right after the start of the trial to recognize Aleksey Navalny’s Anti-Corruption Foundation (Russ. abbr. FBK) as an extremist organization, on May 4, a bill was submitted to the Duma proposing the introduction of a ban on running for elections to the State Duma by persons “involved in the activities” of an extremist or terrorist organization. Naturally, it was accepted. As planned. The prohibition is formulated as vaguely as possible:“involvement” can be expressed, among other things, in financing (for example, in sending donations), in advisory and other assistance. The latter can generally include any interaction with “extremists.”

The term of the ban is 5 years for the organization’s founders and leaders from the moment the organization is recognized as extremist, and 3 years for all “involved.” But the main thing is that this ban, like the rules on foreign agent candidates, is retroactive. For the founders and leaders of the organization, it comes into force 3 years before the court decision, for those “involved”—1 year. In other words, a citizen cannot nominate himself due to a donation sent a year ago to an organization that has only now been recognized as extremist. There is no way for a citizen to predict such a development of events. At the time of the action, he does not violate anything, but a year later he turns out to be an accomplice of “extremists,” who has been deprived of his political rights.

Apparently, it makes no sense to say that such a ban is unconstitutional in more than one way. Article 54 of the Constitution expressly prohibits the retroactive effect of a law establishing liability. And deprivation of suffrage, of course, is a form of liability. It is no less obvious that this law is directly aimed at excluding a number of opposition candidates from the political struggle and, thereby, at limiting competition during the campaign.

In parallel, the Duma of the 7th convocation continued its “cannibalistic” traditions. In addition to the electoral innovations, a number of repressive laws were adopted during 2021 that expand the authorities’ capabilities in the fight against political opposition in order to preserve the regime, namely: the law on unregistered foreign agent public associations, the law on protection from censorship of social networks, the law on deprivation of freedom for online defamation and the Veterans Insults Act. All these innovations very quickly began to be used for their intended purpose.55

By 2022, the entire seemingly chaotically accumulated set of normative acts indirectly arising from constitutional amendments and multiplied by arbitrary law enforcement practice, has led to “confrontational mobilization.” Spy mania and the search for agents of foreign influence, as in Soviet times, have again become mechanisms for regulating political and public life and artificially narrowing the scope of the discussion about the paths of the country’s development. From the point of view of the confrontation, curricula began to be rewritten, and scientific cooperation programs and historical narratives were revised. In all universities of the country, the positions of vice-rectors for security have appeared and there has been a mass dismissal of teachers who present an independent point of view.

A confrontational foreign policy has become the most important factor in legitimizing the irremovability of power and the tasks of “internal control” associated with it, which are acquiring ever harsher forms. The most important feature of the official Russian foreign policy discourse has become the securitization of identity issues, that is, their politicization and elevation to the rank of issues of national security. Foreign policy has become a tool for constructing a national identity for the Russian elite.

Experts identify three main myths of this identity. The first is about the exclusivity of Russia: its existence on the periphery of the European value and cultural universe is interpreted not as inferiority, but as an advantage and evidence of exclusivity. The second is the myth of historical continuity: it is the myth of an unchanging and unchangeable Russia, traveling through time, separate from the rest of the world, from Grand Duke Vladimir to Vladimir Putin. For foreign policy, it is important here that national interests and strategy in such a discourse were predetermined many centuries ago, and changes are possible only at the tactical level. The third myth, and the most important one for foreign policy, involves opposing Russia not to individual countries, but to the West as a whole. The all-encompassing imaginary “West” is perceived as a force attempting to change Russia’s unique, millennium-old identity.56

However, everything makes perfect sense. These are the inevitable trends in the development of the legislation of authoritarian regimes, which begin with seemingly not too dangerous selective engineering, and end with the laws of isolation and war.

Voting and the elections of 2020–2021.
All-Russian vote for amendments to the Constitution

The initiative to conduct an all-Russian vote on amendments to the Constitution and “zeroing” belonged personally to the President of Russia and it was established by presidential decree. This vote was the most unusual electoral procedure in the recent history of the country. It was regulated not by federal electoral legislation, but by a special law “On the Amendment to the Constitution,” which was adopted in March 2020. Under this law, the voting procedure was completely determined by the Central Election Commission.

The CEC decided that the voting should go on for seven whole days, from June 25 to July 1; all this time, citizens could come to the precinct election commission and cast their vote without any additional declarations and messages. In addition, the CEC simplified the conduct of voting outside the polling stations: no good reason was required to invite members of the precinct electoral commission to their home, courtyard or enterprise. Members of electoral committees organized voting outside the usual voting premises at the request of authorized representatives of residences and heads of enterprises. At the same time, July 1 was considered the day of the plebiscite, and the period from June 25 to 30 was called “voting before voting day.” The formal reason for holding the vote in such an original form was the pandemic.

And although the CEC, before the law on amendments came into force, and before the election commissions were given the appropriate powers and resources, had no legal grounds for preparing for voting, nonetheless a few months before its adoption, on January 25, 2020, one of the Telegram channels announced a leak of information from a closed meeting in the CEC, where voting was already being actively discussed. The meeting was held by means of video-conferencing. In addition to the leadership of the CEC, members of its leadership team and other employees who had access to such events, and representatives of regional election commissions were connected to it. They were instructed to analyze the readiness of their regions to organize voting and report back on January 27. CEC Secretary Maya Grishina said that given the lack of detailed regulation of the procedure in the law, CEC acts could be used. Deputy Chairman of the CEC Nikolai Bulaev in his speech said that the adoption of the law on amendments was expected in mid-February (it was adopted in March). By this time, the commissions of the regions should receive the information materials necessary for voting (“brand books,” poster layouts, etc.), paid for by funds from regional and municipal budgets.57

At the same time, the “constitutional commission” continued to fill the law on amendments with its initiatives. For example, pediatrician Leonid Roshal introduced an amendment about high-quality and affordable medicine, and actor Vladimir Mashkov one about the inalienability of Russian territories. By the second reading, the draft included references to God, marriage as the union of a man and a woman, and the Russian language as the language of the dominant nation, as well as norms on the protection of historical truth, a responsible attitude towards animals, education of ecological culture, etc. These proposals, along with those contained in the presidential draft amendments on the regular indexation of pensions and a minimum wage not lower than the subsistence minimum became the basis of a campaign in support of the reform.

The constitutional reform in general and the possibility of Putin’s lifelong presidency divided the citizens of Russia roughly in half. In a March 2020 poll by the Levada Center, it is noteworthy that among the 47% who opposed “zeroing,” the share of strong opponents was 30%, and in June it rose to 33%. In parallel, from 23% to 31%, the share of strong supporters of “zeroing” also increased, so that 64% of respondents were in extreme positions (“definitely yes” and “definitely no”), while 33% were “moderate” (“rather yes” and “rather no”). This is a clear picture of political polarization. Indeed, as sociological data show, supporters and opponents of the amendments formed comparable-sized groups on the eve of the vote. In sociological surveys, the share of the former varied in the range of 40 to 51%, and the latter, 30 to 45%, with an average gap of about 9 percentage points (the gap narrowed markedly in the June polls), but this gap may be related to the regime’s opponents being less willing to report their opinions to pollsters.

Under such conditions, the Kremlin had to go to great lengths to turn the picture of social division into a demonstration of universal approval of “zeroing” and the accompanying constitutional innovations. In addition to manipulating the amendment process, the Kremlin used the extreme situation of the COVID-19 pandemic to violate the electoral standards and election oversight mechanisms that had been in place for the previous decade and which had allowed limiting the scope of fraud.58

The Communist Party of the Russian Federation was the only party that did not support the amendments to the Constitution proposed by Vladimir Putin, including those that reset to zero his presidential term. During the third reading in the Duma, the Communists abstained from voting for the amendments. Against the background of the all-Russian voting campaign on the amendments, they became more active and, on the eve of the Duma elections, proposed their agenda. This was an excellent opportunity to start the campaign well in advance. The Communists proposed holding a “popular referendum” on their changes to the Constitution. To be included in it:

a provision on the state-forming role of the Russian people in the multinational family of equal peoples of Russia; to nationalize natural resources and guarantee the payment to citizens of a share of income from the trade in minerals; to fix the retirement age of 60 years for men, and 55 years for women; to fix the annual indexation of pensions, social payments and scholarships at the inflation rate for the previous year; to set the minimum wage and pension not lower than the subsistence minimum; to freeze payments for housing and communal services at the level of 10% of the total family income; to consolidate the concepts of “parliamentary inquiry,” “parliamentary control” and “parliamentary investigation;” to give the State Duma the right to independently initiate the issue of confidence in the government and its individual members; to establish the election of members of the Federation Council, governors and mayors of cities by direct secret ballot without any “filters;” to make elective the positions of justices of the peace, and district and city judges; to equate electoral fraud with an attack on the foundations of the constitutional order; to indicate that the most important function of the Bank of Russia is to ensure economic growth; and to secure for local governments the right to a larger share of tax revenues. In addition, the Communists proposed to adopt a law on the Constitutional Assembly and to simplify the procedure for holding a referendum.59

Naturally, the matter did not move beyond a PR campaign. The current Russian legislation on the referendum, as we have already said, does not in any way provide for such uncoordinated escapades, especially since a referendum cannot be held a year before the next parliamentary elections, and the communists, of course, knew this.

Voting on changing the Constitution of Russia took place during the week from June 25 to July 1. 77.92% voted in favor of amending the Basic Law of the country, and 21.27% voted against. The turnout in the all-Russian voting was 65%. The amendments to the Constitution received the greatest support in Chechnya, Crimea and Tuva, where over 90% of the voters voted for them. The only protest region was the Nenets Autonomous Okrug, where more than half of the inhabitants opposed the amendments. On July 1, 185,000 police and National Guard officers were on duty at polling stations across the country, who did not find any serious violations. The results exceeded the expectations of the presidential administration, where they were considered a “triumph.”

Most of the closed cities of the Armed Forces of the Ministry of Defense of the Russian Federation showed protest voting results on the Constitution. In nine regions, the level of support for the amendments in closed territorial entities (Russ. abbr. ZATOs) turned out to be the lowest of all municipalities. In other regions, with rare exceptions, closed cities were in second, third, and fourth place in terms of the number of votes against the amendments. In particular, the amendments were not very actively supported in ZATOs where strategic missile forces and submarines with nuclear missiles are based.60

One of the main results of the “all-Russian vote” was the actual demolition of the generally accepted practices of monitoring the voting process, which had held back the scale of fraud in previous elections. The access of observers was initially limited at the level of the “law on the amendment,” and in practice it was also prevented by the public chambers, which were illegally vested with the right to send observers instead of political parties. The second factor that reduced the possibility of observation was the many days of early voting and, in particular, voting outside the voting premises (so-called voting “on stumps”). Numerous testimonies indicate that it was there that mass ballot stuffing took place. Finally, another mechanism for distorting the will of voters was the practice of forcing people to vote at their place of work. In general, the Central Election Commission grossly exceeded its powers and violated the “law on the amendment” that established the voting rules, as it did not have the right to expand the timing and forms of voting. As a result, four fifths of all votes were received as part of the “early voting,” which should have been declared invalid, and it is not possible to establish the real voting results.61

Statistical analysis of official results indicates a radical change in electoral practices in Russia: if in the previous 12 years the share of anomalous votes (falsifications) identified by statistical methods fluctuated between 14–23% of the total number of votes, then the special voting regime in 2020 led to the rise of this figure to 37%. That is, minus the anomalous votes (falsifications), its real result is in the region of 65% of the votes “for” with a turnout of about 43% instead of the officially announced 78% “for” with a turnout of 68% (the same results are visible not only in numerous separate polling stations, but also in entire regions where large-scale falsifications did not take place—for example, in the Khabarovsk Territory). The group of regions with an ultra-high level of falsifications (over 25% of the vote) increased to 46—more than half of the total. For the first time since 2011, the practice of large-scale fraud was resumed in Moscow.62

Therefore, the legitimacy of the new constitutional regime of the “presidential principate” or dictatorship does not look fully secured, which necessarily forces the authorities to increase repressive measures, put pressure on elites and civil activists, expand forms of social control and channels of information, and also search for various ways to support the declining popularity of Vladimir Putin.

The Elections of 2021

An obedient and dependent parliament is very necessary for any autocratic regime. A thrice obedient and many times dependent parliament is especially needed by autocracies in the conditions of the inevitable impending transition. Even when they try to postpone this transition by any means. For the co-opted elites, getting such a parliament is a top priority. Therefore, starting from the presidential elections of 2018, this top priority could be “tasted and smelled” by the specialists, and was even quite tangible. When journalists asked a question about some momentary event, asking why and what for, in a number of cases the answer was the same: it was preparations for the 2021 parliamentary elections. Meanwhile, the situation in the country was slowly heating up. The government’s ratings had steadily declined. The Internet and the refrigerator were becoming more and more powerful than the television. An “unbeaten” generation grew up, which wanted to participate in government and skillfully stand up for itself. These are those important social changes that, as a rule, creep into modern times unnoticed and quietly, because our eyes are not yet accustomed to distinguishing them. Such changes are very harmful for an authoritarian state, and the authorities begin to react to them. In their own way. The way power acts. Sometimes crookedly, deviously, and roughly.

The most noticeable feature of the Duma elections held in the fall of 2021 was not the intrigue over the distribution of deputy mandates, but the unprecedented repressive campaign of the authorities against the structures of the Anti-Corruption Foundation (FBK), independent candidates, and the media. After the January rallies for the freedom of Navalny, thousands of people across Russia were detained, and an unusually large number received administrative arrest: in Moscow, all special detention centers were overflowing, paddy wagons with detainees stood in line for many hours. For a year and a half, protest rallies had practically not been coordinated, formally due to the coronavirus pandemic. Since spring, dozens of activists and politicians had left Russia, including former FBK employees who feared for their freedom. Former State Duma deputy Dmitry Gudkov was going to be nominated for parliament again, but left the country after a search and initiation of a false criminal case. By the national voting day of 2021, the non-systemic opposition was in avery purged state. The Kremlin’s opponents pinned their plans on the campaign, and many of Aleksey Navalny’s associates, for example, were going to be nominated as candidates. But in June, the court recognized the politician’s organizations as extremist, and the State Duma, literally in the last months of the work of the 7th convocation, passed a law prohibiting those who were associated with extremist organizations from running, even before the organizations received such status.

Under such conditions, “Smart Voting” became practically the only way for the opposition to express dissatisfaction, and this turned out to be the most dangerous for the authorities. By 2021, serious prerequisites were created for the decline in support for United Russia in the electorate to be compensated for by the administrative mobilization of loyal voters. However, the effectiveness of such compensation is due to a decrease in incentives to participate in elections for those sectors of the electorate whose political interest is not compatible with support of the dominant party. It is clear that the turnout of such voters is stimulated to a decisive extent by the presence of parties and candidates who would be seen as opposition outside the control of the authorities (“plausible opposition”). The exclusion of such opposition is carried out by controlling the field of political alternatives.

In general, the authorities managed to achieve almost complete control over this field, but the achieved result could be neutralized by the “Smart Voting” strategy developed by Navalny and his supporters. The strategy was based on the assumption that voting by opposition-minded voters in single-member constituencies could tip the balance in favor of candidates opposed to United Russia’s candidates, and thereby reduce its level of representation. The 2019–2020 elections showed that the main goal of such a strategy is achievable, although not universally and on a rather modest scale. However, in addition to the main goal, the strategy pursues two others, the achievement of which could cause United Russia no less serious damage. “Smart Voting” creates a fairly clear incentive for opposition-minded voters to show up to vote. An increase in the turnout of the protest electorate can become an effective counterbalance to the system of administrative mobilization: it is obvious that if a voter is motivated by the desire to vote against the United Russia candidate in the district, then he will not vote for the list of the dominant party either. Thus, the consequences may also affect the results of voting on the party-list part.

The high level of protest sentiment makes voting in majoritarian districts, which brought the “party of power” 60% of its seats in the Duma, vulnerable. With a low turnout, the victory of an administrative candidate is ensured on average by the same 32–33% of those who voted, which is 12–13% of all potential voters. At the same time, the “second” candidate receives, as a rule, 8–9% of the votes. Such ratios fully explain the bitterness with which the authorities fought against the Smart Voting project, and the danger potentially posed to them by any form of coalition voting in single-member districts. An increase of 4–5% of constituency voters for an opposition candidate can have a tipping effect.

The analysis shows that the fundamental reason for the Kremlin’s repressive turn is precisely the loss of a reliable majority, which undermines the effectiveness and security of those techniques of electoral manipulation that the regime has relied on since the mid-2000s. And if earlier the Kremlin could oppose the “hipster” opposition of megacities with the image of “the true Russia”—the “conservative majority” and the “real people”—now this construction looks less and less convincing. It seems that now two majorities are emerging more and more: a conservative one and a protest one. And while Navalny is in prison, this emerging majority is actively looking for their leader-defender, some kind of “people’s Navalny.”63 To neutralize such risks, the authorities rely much more than ever before on the direct suppression of political opponents. Starting with the dramatic events around the poisoning of Aleksey Navalny.

The regions did not take any active steps to prepare for the Duma campaign, waiting for specific instructions from the center. And these directives arrived. At a seminar for vice-governors in the Moscow region in February 2021, representatives of the presidential administration said that in the fall elections to the State Duma, the Kremlin would be satisfied with a turnout of 45% and 45% of the vote for United Russia. Although for certain regions KPI may be lower: for example, for Moscow, 35%. It was also explained at the seminar that it is necessary to mobilize your supporters, and not just everyone, since among state employees the approval of the authorities is also falling: teachers, for example, are tired of “remote work,” therefore it makes sense to involve only those groups of the population where support for the authorities is high. In other words, the Kremlin in the 2021 elections would not count on large-scale administrative mobilization, hence the low turnout KPI.64

Six months before the autumn elections to the State Duma, the Petersburg Politics Foundation described three possible scenarios. So far, according to experts, the authorities were preparing the country for the “Fortress” plan—with maximum control over the campaign and obtaining a constitutional majority for United Russia. However, the negativity in society might tilt the scales towards the “Wind of Change” scenario, in which United Russia would retain a simple majority, and one of the small parties would enter the Duma. The authors of the report considered the scenario that would allow the loss of even a simple majority by United Russia to be the least likely, although this option would satisfy all parties: the opposition would be happy with the failure of United Russia, and the authorities would be able to control the parliament through a coalition of the party in power with weaker partners. As we can see, the Fortress plan won from among the proposed scenarios.65

The elections to the State Duma never became the de facto main political event of 2021. Many either were not aware of the upcoming vote, or did not attach much importance to it. In addition, recent political protests and discussions around them were perceived as something more “interesting, dramatic and real.” Another reason for the low interest in elections is the general political apathy. It was noticeable before, but 2020, which elapsed in the context of the fight against the pandemic, had noticeably strengthened it.

Assessing the credibility of the announced 2021 election results is extremely difficult. Independent international and domestic monitoring of these elections was reduced to an absolute minimum, although the Golos movement (recognized as a foreign agent) was able to generate a body of data indicating massive violations in the voting process. When analyzing the election results, it is noteworthy that the initial results, announced by the Central Election Commission late in the evening of September 19, based on the processing of data from 10% of the protocols, allocated 38.8% of the votes to the United Russia list. This was followed by the Communist Party of the Russian Federation (25.0%), the Liberal Democratic Party (9.6%), New People (7.8%), and A Just Russia (6.8%). As the protocols were further processed, the share of United Russia increased significantly and came close to 50%, and the indicators of A Just Russia also improved, while the shares of votes for the other three parties decreased noticeably.66 And although the voting results themselves were manageable, subsequent events led to the fact that the Duma elections in the eyes of the elites began to be assessed as a “concentration of political risks.”

Their most important and less noticeable result was evidence of social changes that had taken place. The results of the voting, cleared of anomalous votes (falsification), show that in reality only a third of those who came to the polls (32%) voted for United Russia, and a quarter (25%) voted for the Communist Party of the Russian Federation. If there were no stuffing, the Communist Party would overtake the “United Russia” in at least a quarter of the regions.

Post-election polls not only confirm this picture (every fourth voter voted for the Communist Party of the Russian Federation), but also show that the growth of the electorate of the Communist Party was ensured by voters of younger ages, better educated, with a high social status (leaders, managers, entrepreneurs, specialists). The Communist Party of the Russian Federation has outgrown the boundaries of a niche retroparty, popular mainly among pensioners, which it was in the last elections, and has acquired the features of a mainstream party. While the United Russia electorate, on the contrary, has aged and is losing in quality (pensioners, housewives, office workers).

Having suppressed non-systemic opposition based on the urban, educated and youth strata, the regime faced new challenges from those social strata that previously looked more like a zone of its support. The success of the communists and the formation of a new platform of opposition around the Communist Party looks like the most significant and rather formidable challenge to the regime. The Communist Party of the Russian Federation is turning into the main electoral competitor of the “party of power,” with a much broader social base than Navalny’s projects, into a kind of “new Golem”—a “second majority.” This will significantly reduce the effectiveness of the Kremlin’s repressive response to the 2020–2021 crisis and will likely make economic policy more paternalistic and socially costly in the near future.

The 2021 elections have exposed the characteristics of the third era of electoral authoritarianism in Russia, writes Alexander Kynev. The first, “Surkov” era, was characterized by strategies of co-optation and forced integration into the “party of power” of various elite groups, “partization” of the legislature at all levels and building “verticals of control” of the party system and electoral processes. The “Volodin” era that came after the crisis of 2011 was characterized by the forced conservation of the party system, a return to a mixed electoral system against the background of the structural weakness of the “party of power” and “fixed matches” with the systemic opposition, which brought it “carrots” in the form of electoral sinecures.67 These are the main conclusions of the report of the Liberal Mission Foundation “The New Reality: The Kremlin and the Golem. What do the election results say about the socio-political situation in Russia,” summing up the results of the last election campaign in Russia to date.

But an even more terrible new reality covered the country a few months after these elections and as a result of precisely these elections. The Duma of the 8^thconvocation immediately approved all the president’s totalitarian-imperial initiatives: the recognition of the self-proclaimed republics in the east of Ukraine, the use of armed contingents outside of Russia, and the so-called fake law, which provides for criminal liability (up to 15 years in prison) for information about the war that differs from the official version. The law on spreading fakes about the Russian army is likely to be followed by a law on spreading fakes about the Russian economy. Because, putting talk about the situation at the front aside, then the second most important front of the “special operation” is, of course, the Russian economy. “The law on fakes is an iron curtain rapidly descending on the country. It just seems like it’s a law restricting information. In fact, this is a repressive law, which means it is a law on the inability of the state to organize the conventional, normal life of the country. It is this inability that repression is called upon to compensate for. And it is this inability that becomes the main principle of national life”, wrote Kirill Rogov. The Fake Law resulted in the closure of all independent media. Following the media, they again came for the elections. They decided that it is necessary to abolish the institution of members of election commissions with the right to consultative vote. They remained only at the level of the Central Election Commission and the commissions of the constituent entities of the Federation—and even then, just in case, with significantly curtailed rights. Election committees of municipalities were also abolished, local elections will now be held by territorial election commissions. So, it’s calmer for the authorities, more controlled, cheaper and safer.

Everything was to be expected. If for many years the goal of the state is to seize and retain power by artificially transforming institutions exclusively for these goals and objectives, and not for optimizing and improving management, as a rule, the result turns out to be just that.