Russians are still upset with each other – those who voted in the recent elections, and those who sat on their “rotund backsides.”

“Turnout” is a key word in the context of the recent Russian parliamentary elections. It touches on all aspects of voting – political manipulation, public apathy and widespread fraud. Any discussion of the subject of turnout immediately revives the longstanding debate among opposition members about the merits of even taking part in the toxic process.

The unusually low turnout (47.8%, according to the Central Electoral Commission) produced a victory of unprecedented scale for the ruling party, even by United Russia’s standards: 343 of the 450 seats in the lower house of parliament. The authorities knew in advance of the campaign that their electorate would be mobilised (by hook or by crook), and therefore all “administrative efforts” were focused on lowering the turnout. But they overegged the pudding: the no-shows on polling day far exceeded the protest vote.

“The core of the population stayed at home”

According to sociologist Ella Paneyakh, this time around the non-voters included “every person of sane mind in the country” (the marginal “couldn’t care less” vote Paneyakh estimates at 10%). “The core of the population stayed at home. Not just the upper strata. Not just the ‘thinking layer’ or the ‘creative class,’ but about half the country’s literate population with at least some ability to earn a living outside the state budget.”

Zones of electoral anomaly

The dismal turnout meant that the new Duma was elected by a minority; and United Russia’s boast that its party list collected 54% of the vote (Central Electoral Commission data) translates into just 27% of the total Russian electorate (even this figure is inflated, as we will see). Arkady Lobarev, of the Committee of Civil Initiatives, stresses that the ruling party won 30.6% of its support in the so-called “zones of electoral anomaly” (the 13 regions where turnout exceeded 70%). Political scientist Dmitry Oreshkin estimates that Russia’s “zones of special electoral control” number around two dozen, and it is there that the vote is often decided: “Voting in these regions persistently reflects the mood of the local elites, not the public. Although they account for less than 15 percent of the Russian electorate, their cohesion and high mobilisation mean they have the final say. These 20-odd regions were instrumental in shaping the new Duma, while the remaining 60 snoozed.”

However, physicist Sergey Shpilkin, who has performed statistical analysis of election results since 2007, believes that the love-hate relationship with United Russia is uniform across the country. Statistically, the antipathy to United Russia is particularly evident in Moscow and St Petersburg. Therefore, Sergey Shpilkin surmises that the abnormal results for the “party of power” in some regions are not due to socio-cultural factors or the electorate’s undying love for elections, but plain fraud and ballot box stuffing. When boxes are stuffed, turnout shoots up, leading to a disproportionately high (and mathematically impossible) result for United Russia, i.e. the party in whose favour the stuffing was carried out.

“United Russia received 28 million votes, of which I calculate around 12 million were fake.”

When Shpilkin runs the recent Duma elections through his system, the official results immediately rise to the surface: “United Russia received 28 million votes, of which I calculate around 12 million (45% of the United Russia vote) were fake. That’s about 11% of all voters. So instead of the official turnout of 47.8%, we get 36.5%. And instead of 54% for United Russia, the figure is 40%. From a political point of view, this is significant: it means that the party gained the support of 15% of voters – 15% real, 27% official. Either way, the figure is low and they’ll have to learn to live with it.”

“Rotund backsides”

The fraudulently high turnout and result could have been watered down by large numbers of liberal voters. But they boycotted the proceedings. Journalist and social activist Sergey Parkhomenko does not try to hide his annoyance at those who ignored the elections: “You helped elect this Duma. You ended up as the majority. And you won the vote. The problem is you thought you were voting with your feet, but in fact you voted with your rotund backsides—the ones you spent election day sitting on … Thank you for facilitating fraud on such a hellish scale. THEY could not have done it without you.”

As an abstainee herself, journalist Ksenia Sobchak objected to her colleague’s remarks: “Hope is one thing; the fate of Sisyphus is something else. Sometimes you just have to sit by the river, as the Chinese say. And I resent this ‘bolshevist’ sentiment. People stayed away from the polls for all kinds of reasons, and I personally feel that sometimes it’s better to save your energy than waste it on a pointless farce. The result was clear from the outset.”

Heated, often embittered debate over who are the greater fools—those who wait out the sham election on the couch, or those who sit down at the table with the cardsharps—has dominated the Runet of late. After the election, the mudslinging broke out with renewed vigour.

Journalist Oleg Kashin is one ideologist of “non-participation” who could not remain silent: “There is a difference between defeatism and realism. Participating in a game in which the power elite sets the rules is defeatism. Realism begins with getting rid of all illusions. The main illusion that opposition leaders for some reason have nurtured for many years is the idea that the Russian political system allows internal opposition, and that people have a legitimate opportunity to influence and even replace the power elite. It was all a hoax.”

“What I don’t understand, my friends, is why you are so optimistic?”

Music critic Artemy Troitsky, who cast his ballot, has questions, not statements, for the opposition: “What I don’t understand, my friends, is why you are so optimistic? Why are you so sure they won’t finish you off? Won’t take away your cosy little business? Won’t squeeze your livelihood? Won’t impose exit visas? Won’t turn your kids and grandchildren into zombies? Won’t hike taxes so there’s nothing left for your beloved dacha? And why do you think stagnation is naturally followed by perestroika or a thaw? Why not a hybrid Gulag, for instance?”