Vladimir Putin Wins His Forever Election. Now What?

Putin coasted to a fifth presidential term with 88.48% of the vote. How he controls Russia's electoral process and what his next six years will bring.

Simon Whistler March 4, 2026

It was a result that few among the Western world wanted, but that everybody knew was coming. On the seventeenth of March, 2024, Russian President Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin coasted to victory in an election that was far more a song and dance than it was a democratic exercise. Running as the only serious candidate allowed to participate, standing alongside a token opposition party with the outlawed campaigns—and in at least one case, the body of his political enemy laying at his feet—Putin’s election to a fifth term as Russia’s leader was all but preordained. As Russia continues its long march down roads of Putin’s choosing, people around the world would be well within their right to be asking questions. How did Putin assume such complete and total control of Russia’s political system? Why do his people allow him to get away with it? And what does the future of Russia look like, now that the 21st-century tsar has, for all intents and purposes, declared himself President for Life?

Key Takeaways

Putin won his fifth term on March 17, 2024, with 88.48% of the vote and 76,277,708 individual ballots cast—the largest margin of victory in his career.
Voter turnout was reported at 77.44%, with elections extended to four illegally annexed Ukrainian oblasts where residents reported poll workers accompanied by masked gunmen.
Boris Nadezhdin, the only genuine anti-war candidate, was barred from the ballot in early February over minor typos in his petition signatures.
Alexei Navalny died under suspicious circumstances in a Russian penal colony on February 16, 2024, weeks before the election, removing the last prominent opposition figure.
The Noon Against Putin protest, one of Navalny’s final acts of resistance, drew participants across Russia but produced no meaningful disruption to the vote.
Anti-Putin armed groups including the Freedom of Russia Legion and the Russian Volunteer Corps launched an incursion into Kursk Oblast starting March 12, seizing multiple settlements.

Election Weekend Across Eleven Time Zones

In Russia, presidential elections are a multi-day affair, one that, in 2024, stretched across a long weekend from March the fifteenth to the seventeenth. Early voting, for people living in remote regions of Russia, began a couple of weeks prior, on February twenty-sixth. Across all Russian oblasts, provinces or states, plus the four Ukrainian oblasts that Russia has illegally annexed during its years-long invasion of Ukraine, voters were presented with a ballot that included a total of four names. They were Nikolay Kharitonov of Russia’s Communist Party, Vladislav Davankov of the New People Party, Leonid Slutsky of the Liberal Democratic Party, and the independent candidate, Vladimir Putin. In Moscow, St. Petersburg, and other Russian cities—once the heart of Russia’s opposition movement but now firmly part of electoral Putin territory—the voting took place without much trouble. The weekend was largely overcast in Moscow, dry and windless, but altogether comfortable to vote, with temperatures a few ticks above freezing. Voters arriving at polling stations were greeted by banners emblazoned with the letters V and Z, unofficial symbols that the Russian government has adopted to represent its ongoing offensive in Ukraine. Many people came in organized groups, particularly state employees, who some outside Russia claim are ordered to cast votes during election season or else face repercussions at work. Others came in ones and twos, saying hello to neighbors while they participated in a process that was, in most places, quite peaceful. In some parts of Russia, the elections weren’t even the most important thing going on, amidst celebrations of a pagan holiday called Maslenitsa that is supposed to herald the end of the winter season. Russia cast its votes, striking a defiant posture toward the global West, reiterating via press spokespeople that Russia’s democratic process is not to be challenged or mocked by other nations. In a reiteration of a common line for the Kremlin, Russia attempted to minimize the rather sham-like qualities of its voting process, citing the myriad shortcomings and failings of other nations—usually, failings that have little to do with Russia’s situation—in order to insist that Russia shouldn’t be lectured about what it does on its own territory. Efforts to point out that Russia’s elections were neither free nor fair were met with the usual Kremlin whataboutism and the usual claims that Putin enjoys strong support in Russia. That is a claim that couldn’t be verified even if it were true, owing to Russia’s refusal to allow foreign non-government or media organizations to do their work inside Russian borders. International observers were similarly barred from taking part; said Kremlin spokesman Dmitry Peskov about the decision: “We will no longer tolerate criticism of our democracy and claims that it is not the kind that it should be. Our democracy is the best, and we will continue to build it.” Efforts to condemn Russia’s extension of its voting process to four occupied Ukrainian oblasts were met with a dismissive wave of the hand, and sentiments roughly equating to, “just you wait and see how much our new Russian oblasts love Vladimir Putin.”

Resistance, Protest, and the Shadow of Navalny

Across Russia, acts of resistance weren’t common, exactly, but they weren’t absent either. In a large-scale protest on Sunday the seventeenth, many prospective voters chose to show up in a protest action called “Noon Against Putin,” standing at or outside polling stations but not casting ballots, in order to show solidarity with other people who are against the Russian regime. That was one of the last acts of resistance suggested by Russian opposition leader and activist Alexei Navalny prior to his recent death in a Russian penal colony, and it has been promoted by both his widow and the broader international anti-Putin movement across the Russian diaspora. Navalny’s face, his name, and his slogans were also present on tee shirts and stickers on occasion, all across the country. But without any purpose other than a show of solidarity, Noon Against Putin came and went without incident. Other protests, by the families of Russian conscripts hoping to advocate for their return, were broken up and harassed by police. Outside the organized protests, individual citizens also took matters into their own hands. In several incidents across Russia, people poured liquid dyes into ballot boxes or tried to set fires at polling stations, including one woman from St. Petersburg who threw a Molotov cocktail at a school where two polling stations operated inside. Others spoiled their ballots and posted photos on social media. The United Russia political party, the country’s dominant political organization, even suffered a cyberattack during the busiest days of voting. But even still, for a nation spanning eleven time zones, called home by over 143 million people, these incidents were relatively rare. By and large, the weekend featured a relatively docile voting public, one in which even opposition movements didn’t attempt to engage in any action that might have brought even a sliver of hope that the outcome might be changed. Vladimir Putin’s fifth presidential term was all but preordained, and the people of Russia knew it.

Voting at Gunpoint in Occupied Ukraine

In occupied parts of Ukraine, the voting process was rather less straightforward. In some parts of the four oblasts that Russia has illegally annexed, plus the isthmus of Crimea annexed in 2014, support for Russia is strong. The separatist insurgencies that raged for years in Donetsk and Luhansk provinces in Ukraine’s Donbas region are widely understood to have started courtesy of the pro-Russian local population before they ever got support from Russia. In Donetsk and Luhansk, now rather firmly under Russian control, voters who were enthusiastic about casting their vote for Putin did it in cities and towns replete with signs that Russia had consolidated its authority: billboards, posters, and plenty of armed guards to ensure election security. They were joined, according to some anti-Russia sources, by Russians bussed in from elsewhere to inflate voter turnout. But other residents of the annexed oblasts have told a different version of events. According to accounts posted to international social media, local poll workers going door-to-door in those oblasts have done it accompanied by masked gunmen. Voters aren’t required to go to the ballot box; instead, over weeks of early voting, they can cast their ballots from their own doorsteps—during which time, pro-Russian leadership fully admits, residents can expect to be filmed with armed, masked troops present. All of that happens under the umbrella of a campaign called InformIUK—ostensibly meant to educate voters about the process, by visiting every resident of Donetsk, Luhansk, Kherson, and Zaporizhzhia oblasts in their homes. In practice, the Putin regime hoped for a demonstration of strong voter turnout in these places—where, of course, people casting their vote at gunpoint would be able to choose between the obvious choice they’re supposed to pick, Putin, and three alternatives they’ve likely never heard of. Ukraine’s governor of the Russian-occupied Zaporizhzhia region put it plainly: “Our citizens are very afraid. Of course if Russians with soldiers come to their flat and ask if they’d like to vote for Putin, everyone will say: OK, yes. Because everyone wants to save their life. But it does not mean that our citizens want to support Putin.” For Moscow, that doesn’t matter much; strong turnout—and thus, a strong vote for Putin—is a way to make Russia’s territorial claims appear more legitimate, so that Putin and other Kremlin representatives can dismiss all the asterisks around them with little more than the wave of a hand.

Armed Incursions, Drone Strikes, and the Final Tally

There was one more wrinkle to Russia’s electoral process: attacks and sabotage by Ukraine, other armed groups, and ordinary civilians. On the day that early voting began in the occupied region of Kherson, bombs exploded in the city of Nova Kakhovka, targeting the local headquarters of Russia’s dominant political party as well as a polling station. Days later, Ukraine’s Main Intelligence Directorate reported the killing of a local woman in the Zaporizhzhia region who had been helping out with Russia’s electoral process. When asked whether the people who’d killed the woman were associated with the Ukrainian government, Ukraine’s governor of the region confirmed: “Yes, of course. There is great co-operation between our resistance inside the temporarily occupied territories and our secret services.” On the fifteenth of March, an improvised explosive device went off inside a trash can outside a polling station in Kherson Oblast, injuring five Russian soldiers. The following day, Kherson’s Russian governor claimed that a Ukrainian drone strike had injured four more people, and killed one, in an attempt to interrupt the vote. Even more significant was a limited incursion into western Russia by multiple anti-Putin armed groups. These are Ukraine-backed groups opposing the Russian government, but they are made up of Russian fighters. Starting on March the 12th, these groups—including the Freedom of Russia Legion, the Russian Volunteer Corps, the Sibir Battalion, and possibly more—took over multiple settlements inside western Russia’s Kursk Oblast. The incursion was meant as a direct protest to Russia’s election, especially the imposition of elections on occupied Ukrainian territory. With the backdrop of that incursion, Ukraine launched several dozen drone attacks across the parts of Russia within its range, scoring a few hits against infrastructure and supply targets. Meanwhile, Ukrainian shelling of the border city of Belgorod is believed to have backfired; first meant as an attempt to impose costs of the Ukraine invasion on Russian citizens during the vote, it is believed to have instead spiked turnout in Belgorod, as citizens there retaliated with their ballots. Neither protest nor act of war would be enough to stand in the way of the result. When the vote count was released on March 18th, Vladimir Putin won with 88.48% of the total vote, including 76,277,708 individual votes, alongside a turnout rate of 77.44%. The runner-up was the Communist candidate, Nikolay Kharitonov, who came away with 4.37% of the vote. Peace-ish candidate Vladislav Davankov received 3.9%, and extreme candidate Leonid Slutsky received 3.24%. It was the biggest margin of victory, by far, of Putin’s entire political career, along with higher turnout than in Russia’s last presidential election. Even with so many caveats about the illegitimacy of the vote, it is still telling that in a system where Russia can essentially write whatever number it wishes on the final vote tally, it chose to avoid what Russia had done in past years—showing non-negligible opposition support to keep up appearances of fairness. This time, they didn’t even bother to create the illusion.

A Cruel Campaign Season: Token Opposition and Eliminated Rivals

To truly understand Putin’s victory in context requires understanding just how complete his control over Russia’s electoral process has been for decades. Putin’s election to his third term in 2012, and his fourth in 2018, were elections where the outcome wasn’t in doubt, and neither was this one. The reason for that is the Kremlin’s recent history of relying on token opposition candidates. They won’t present an election to the Russian people where Putin is the only candidate—or, at least they haven’t yet—but they will make sure that Putin’s rival candidates don’t have any chance of beating him. If a candidate can be trusted to avoid criticizing Putin, avoid having any policy positions different from Putin’s, and avoid actively campaigning in a way that might jeopardize Putin’s supremacy, they’re welcome to run, which they might do in order to raise their own name recognition or score some political points inside the Kremlin. Typically, this plays out the same way: the Communist candidate comes in a very distant second, largely capturing the support of older voters who remember the Soviet Union fondly, while everyone else pulls support in the low single-digits. In this particular election, the Communist candidate was Nikolai Kharitonov. He’d run against Putin once before, in 2004, and secured 13% of the vote. This time, he won just over 4.3%. He has repeatedly refused to levy any criticism Putin’s way, stating to Russian media at one point about Putin: “He is responsible for his own cycle of work, why would I criticize him?” Also in the race was Leonid Slutsky, a long-time member of the Russian State Duma. He is an ultranationalist candidate, soaking up some of the far-right vote inside Russia, and while he is an interesting and controversial figure in his own right, he didn’t offer much meaningful contrast to Putin other than pure ideological extremism. Finally, there was 40-year-old Vladislav Davankov, deputy chairman of the Duma, a long-time Putin ally who held off from any criticisms against anybody else involved in the race. Of the three non-Putin candidates, Davankov has gotten the most attention because of his endorsement of negotiations and an eventual peace deal with Ukraine. But even calling Davankov a peace candidate at all oversells his position. While he does support negotiations with Ukraine, he has stipulated that Russia’s capture of the territory it currently occupies would be non-negotiable. That makes his position indistinguishable from what Putin’s own Kremlin has stated it would require, as a bare minimum, if negotiations were to take place. That is not an accident; this is a token opposition, and although the candidates Putin allows to oppose him do offer a different face, they don’t offer any meaningful policy alternatives, other than the Communist Party, whose platform has long since fallen out of favor with most Russians.

Nadezhdin, Duntsova, and Navalny: The Opposition Eliminated

In reality, there had been a true anti-war candidate in Russia’s elections, at least for a little while. He was a long-time opposition politician called Boris Nadezhdin, a man who’d once had close ties to prominent opposition politician Boris Nemtsov, who was assassinated near the Kremlin in 2015 after trying to rally against Russia’s support of the then-low-grade insurgency in Ukraine. Nadezhdin had offered his 2024 candidacy on a platform that included ending the war in Ukraine, but also included railing against Putin directly. Said Nadezhdin in his own words, referring to Putin: “Practically he destroyed the key institutions of modern government, of modern state in Russia, like parliament, like courts, like free elections etc. My job will be to restore these institutions.” Nadezhdin brought hundreds of thousands of signatures on a petition to support his political candidacy, but he was barred from candidacy in early February, with Russia citing minor typos in some of his petition signatures as a reason to bar him completely. Said one Russian propagandist on state TV, just ahead of Nadezhdin’s disqualification: “I feel bad for Boris. The fool didn’t realize that he’s not being set up to run for president but for a criminal case on charges of betraying the Motherland.” The outcome that Nadezhdin would be disqualified seemed to be a foregone conclusion among most international observers, a sentiment that even Nadezhdin himself agreed with. At the time of writing, Nadezhdin is still alive, which is more than can be said for many people who’ve tried to launch real opposition to Putin. While Nadezhdin has long had a reputation of being careful with what he says and when he says it, his actions during the campaign reflected a much greater willingness to cross Putin outright. Putin will encourage token opposition, or even allow real opposition candidates to run for something, if he believes that they don’t have much chance of victory. Take, by example, Alexei Navalny’s 2013 campaign to be mayor of Moscow, where he ran against a popular incumbent mayor who was a close Putin ally, and was predictably trounced in the polls. What Nadezhdin did in these 2024 elections was to give a real outlet for Russian frustration on an issue that has become a very sore subject for the Kremlin. If Russia’s past conduct predicts its future conduct, then that doesn’t portend well for Nadezhdin’s future. Nor was Nadezhdin the only opposition candidate to find himself removed from the ballot. Yekaterina Duntsova, a former television journalist, ran as a fringe candidate while calling for the release of political prisoners and demanding an end to the war in Ukraine. Duntsova’s campaign was regarded by international observers to have been one of two things: either a combination of brave and foolhardy, or outright scripted by the Kremlin. She was booted from the election all the way back in December and was unable to get any Russian political party to pick up her cause. She was then detained in January and has since stayed quiet, with her personal and political future entirely unclear. And finally, there is one more name to consider: Alexei Navalny. Navalny was the one face and name who really represented Russia’s opposition movement over the last decade. For the past several years, he served as a political prisoner behind bars in Moscow, after he returned to Russia to face incarceration even despite having just survived an attempt on his life. But on February 16th of 2024, Navalny died under highly suspicious circumstances in a Russian penal colony. Whether he died of at least nominally natural causes, or was killed, the world may never know for sure, but regardless, Navalny has now gone down with the rest of the opposition movement inside Russia, with no clear successor to take his place.

Why Russians Still Tolerate Putin

It may be an alien concept to those living under free and fair electoral systems in the global West that, in the midst of such a clearly rigged process, the people of Russia continue to tolerate Vladimir Putin. And on the other side, it is just as tempting to view that logic from its opposite angle: if the people of Russia don’t care about any of this, then why should anyone else? As for why Putin is tolerated—even though it’s all but impossible to get an accurate assessment of his popularity, it is widely known that he still maintains at least relative popularity in his own country. That sentiment was on full display, even from voters in this last election. Said one Russian great-grandmother speaking to NBC News in Moscow, 90-year-old Nina Kisileva: “I remember when Stalin died, his funeral in 1953, I remember it well. And now I trust only Putin.” Said other proud Putin voters, also to NBC: “We live well, we are satisfied with everything and, well, we are very satisfied with our president.” And: “He is the only person who has made others respect Russia as a country recently.” Putin’s personal approval ratings are high, the Kremlin’s propaganda around the war in Ukraine has been successful in rallying support for the war effort, and unfortunately, the same Western powers that Putin disdains sometimes make it all too easy for Russian leaders to point out hypocrisy and foolishness in European and American leadership. Putin’s insistence on dogged whataboutism when Westerners critique his country does, absolutely, get tiresome—but for many voters, that logic hits home. Of course, tight restrictions on foreign media operating inside Russia mean that Western media has essentially no ability to interact with voters in private conversations or in polling stations other than the ones Russia carefully selects. But nonetheless, the idea that Putin is roundly hated or rejected by the people of Russia, with anything even close to unanimity, is simply false. Regardless of anything else about his time in office, the average Russian citizen has seen their lot in life improve dramatically across twenty-five years of Putin, even accounting for recent economic downturns. Between Boris Yeltsin in the 1990s and a long line of Soviet premiers, the bar for Russian leadership has been on the floor for quite a while, and the cold competency of Putin’s rule, even despite its nearly endless caveats, is still seen by many people inside Russia as a relatively decent outcome.

Putin’s Fifth Term and the Road to President for Life

Putin’s election to a fifth term of office represents twenty-five consecutive years in which one man has held ultimate authority inside Russia. Although he took a step back from the presidency from 2008 to 2012, allowing his ally Dmitry Medvedev to serve as a figurehead while Putin stepped into the role of Prime Minister, it is no secret who was really pulling the strings in those years. Now, the law that had prevented Putin from serving more than two terms consecutively—thus necessitating four years of Medvedev in the first place—has been put aside permanently. It joins the law that previously established Russian presidential terms as four years—now lengthened to six—and the chronological trackers that would have kept track of Putin’s number of presidential terms, which were reset to zero in 2020. But more important than just getting rid of specific laws has been Putin’s effort to get rid of judicial oversight—or, for that matter, any mechanism that would enable a person other than Vladimir Putin to establish legal realities inside Russia. Russia’s courts and its legislature have no will, at this point, to risk crossing Putin, but they’ve also got no means to do so, even if they wanted to. Putin called for a further strengthening of the Russian military and vowed that he would do everything in his power to solve Russia’s remaining obstacles in its invasion of Ukraine—which, of course, he still refers to as a “special military operation.” He derided the Noon Against Putin protests as ineffectual and called for the punishment of people who’d carried out acts of vandalism during the voting process. He expressed sadness over the death of Alexei Navalny and claimed that prior to Navalny’s passing, he had agreed to a prisoner swap that would have seen Navalny sent back to the West as a free man, with the stipulation that he could not return to Russia. He praised Russia’s strengthening relationship with China and decried what he called a lack of democracy in Europe and the United States, claiming that Russia’s electoral systems are more transparent than those of the Western world. Finally, he threatened nuclear apocalypse, claiming that any Western troops present in Ukraine would put the whole world on the brink of a third world war. In the wake of Putin’s re-election, it is highly unlikely that there will be any great change in Russia’s political direction. Putin’s position on the war in Ukraine isn’t about to reverse, and if anything, he may celebrate his victory with the start of what looks like a Russian summer offensive. Domestically, there is nothing that Putin couldn’t have done before the election that he would have suddenly gained the ability to do now. But what will probably happen, as it tends to every time Putin coasts to re-election, is yet another incremental tightening of Russia’s authority structure in order to concentrate power even more singularly in Putin’s hands. Usually, this will mean annulling a few inconvenient laws, passing a couple of new pieces of legislation, perhaps removing a political opponent or two. Russian sources suggest that Putin may also reshuffle many of his government positions, incorporating younger leaders into the future of Russian governance whilst shifting older officials aside into more ceremonial positions. Those changes may ripple through not just the Kremlin but Russia’s state-owned companies and its regional governments. He will probably do one other thing, too: overtake Josef Stalin as Russia’s longest-serving leader in over 200 years. Stalin ruled for twenty-nine years, leaving Putin just five to go. While Putin, age seventy-one, has been the subject of ongoing speculation about his failing health for years, he currently appears, if not vibrant exactly, then certainly not in his final days. Although there is limited evidence to suggest that he may deal with Parkinson’s disease, a motor neuron issue, or even cancer, there is zero hard proof of any of those claims, at least none known to Western media. With rumors of an impending palace coup inside the Kremlin being put to bed, at least for now, Putin on his current course will overtake Stalin’s record well before the end of his fifth term—and if he gets that far, then it is probably safe to assume that his fifth term won’t be his last.

Implications for NATO, Ukraine, and the Global Order

On the global scale, it appears that Putin’s Russia is primed to continue strengthening economic ties with China, Iran, and other non-Western international partners, and making overtures to smaller states and non-state actors who find themselves maligned by the international community. His focus on NATO expansion, particularly in and through Ukraine, is stronger than ever, and many international analysts now speculate that Putin may hope to engage in an act of aggression against NATO—and thus test the waters on just how unified the alliance really is—before the end of the decade. In Ukraine, it seems as if the next few months, at a minimum, will proceed in Russia’s favor. Although the slow, creeping Russian advance has myriad issues and may not be sustained forever, it is still more than enough to keep taking territory from a Ukrainian defense that is increasingly exhausted and that lacks the support of Western backers. After the bumbling inefficiencies of the early months of the Ukraine war, Putin is on track to at least somewhat reduce the military corruption of his own nation and may greatly increase his country’s capacity for military production in the coming years. As Vladimir Putin consolidates his grip even further on modern Russia, so too does he consolidate Russia’s position for the six years to come. Barring illness, injury, or other personal catastrophe for Putin, his fifth term will likely see Russia work toward becoming the military powerhouse it has spent decades bluffing that it was. It will see Russia continue to separate its economy from the West, continue to engage in diplomatic antagonism, and work to create a sphere of influence where Russia can do as it sees fit. Putin will be 77 at the end of this current term, and if he is in good health by that time, it is entirely likely that he will cruise to victory for a sixth. By then, at the end of the year 2036, who knows where Russia, the West, or Vladimir Putin himself will be—but this is a man who, whether he admits it or not, would clearly like to be Russia’s President for Life. Now, there is nobody left to stand in his way: not an opposition, not a judiciary, not a legislature, and not the Russian people either.

Frequently Asked Questions

What does the Russian Communist Party believe in?

The Communist Party of the Russian Federation (CPRF) officially adheres to Marxist–Leninist philosophy. As the second largest party in Russia, it endures as a significant political force. The party’s beliefs are rooted in communist ideology, emphasizing social and economic equality. Nikolay Kharitonov, a candidate in the 2024 Russian presidential election, represented the Communist Party of the Russian Federation.

Is Russia a communist or a democracy?

Russia is not a communist country in the classical sense, as it has a mixed economy and a president as head of state. However, the Communist Party of the Russian Federation is one of several parties in Russia and is the second largest party. Russia’s political system has been criticized for not being a free or fair democracy, with Vladimir Putin’s control over the political landscape being a significant factor. The 2024 presidential election, which Putin won, was described as more of a ‘song and dance’ than a democratic exercise.

What is Communist Party in simple words?

The Communist Party of the Russian Federation is a political party that follows Marxist–Leninist ideology, aiming for social and economic equality. In simple terms, the party advocates for a system where the means of production are owned and controlled by the community as a whole, with the goal of achieving a classless, stateless society. The party has a significant presence in Russia, with Nikolay Kharitonov being its candidate in the 2024 presidential election.

What is Putin’s party called?

Vladimir Putin ran as an independent candidate in the 2024 Russian presidential election. He is not formally affiliated with a specific party, although he has historically been associated with the United Russia party. In the 2024 election, Putin faced candidates from other parties, including Nikolay Kharitonov of the Communist Party of the Russian Federation, Vladislav Davankov of the New People Party, and Leonid Slutsky of the Liberal Democratic Party.

Key Takeaways

Election Weekend Across Eleven Time Zones

Resistance, Protest, and the Shadow of Navalny

Voting at Gunpoint in Occupied Ukraine

Armed Incursions, Drone Strikes, and the Final Tally

A Cruel Campaign Season: Token Opposition and Eliminated Rivals

Nadezhdin, Duntsova, and Navalny: The Opposition Eliminated

Why Russians Still Tolerate Putin

Putin’s Fifth Term and the Road to President for Life

Implications for NATO, Ukraine, and the Global Order

Frequently Asked Questions

What does the Russian Communist Party believe in?

Is Russia a communist or a democracy?

What is Communist Party in simple words?

What is Putin’s party called?

Related Coverage

Sources

Frequently Asked Questions