“Anyone but United Russia”: How Kirkenes residents voted in the State Duma “election”

Sunday, 20 September, 8 a.m. On the empty street opposite the Russian Consulate General, activist Natalia Solyanik hangs a garland with anti-war slogans and sets up display boards with quotations from the Constitution. She then puts out chairs and a small table beside the public memorial to Aleksei Navalny, takes out a thermos of coffee, biscuits and apples. The activist is preparing to spend the whole day here.

Solyanik's action coincides with Russia's Single Voting Day. Kirkenes is one of two towns in mainland Norway with a Russian representation where people can vote in the State Duma elections. The harsh purge of the political field leaves not even the illusion of competition, but an invitation to come and vote still hangs on the consulate door. We are interested in learning what choice Russian citizens living in Norway make, so we decide to spend the day with Natalia.  

The first voter, a woman, does not appear until two hours after opening. Before entering the consulate, she heads towards our group and suddenly launches into a dramatic story.

“And your Navalny beat children. There is a vocational school in Murmansk; my grandson trained there as an electrician. Three or four years ago, Navalny’s people came, handed out little flags to the children — go and shout with the flags, and then we will pay you. My grandson came home in tears, with a black eye as well. He said: ‘Grandma, you cannot even imagine: they collected all the flags, and when we reminded them about the money, they beat us all up.’”

Kirkenes is a small town. The politically active part of the Russian community — several dozen people — is divided into two camps: those against Putin’s regime and those in favour of it. The former hold anti-war rallies; the latter periodically write on Navalny’s portrait that he is a thief and attend events organised by the Russian consulate. The voter belongs to the latter group, and we know this. That is why her story did not surprise us.

“And who will you vote for, if it is not a secret?”

“I will vote for Russia!”

“Why do you live in Norway, a NATO country, then?”

“I will return to Russia when I see fit! My beloved husband is buried here.”

‘But Norway is now supplying Ukraine with weapons. How do you live with supporting Russia’s enemy through your taxes?’

‘Very well! Take a photograph of me when I spit in your face!’

We point out that we would have to contact the police, and the woman disappears behind the consulate’s front door. 

‘I feel a contradiction’

On average, two or three people come to the Russian diplomatic mission each hour. Most do not want to speak and try to slip past us. Some, however, are willing to talk. One of the women who arrives makes an unexpected admission.  

"I do not really go into whom to vote for, but I think United Russia. I consulted acquaintances, good friends whom I rely on and who live in Russia."

"Have you not considered that United Russia is the party of power, while the Russian state is in confrontation with Western countries?"

"I had not…" 

"And do you not feel any contradiction?"

"I do," the woman suddenly replies.

After leaving the polling station a few minutes later, the woman admits that she cast her vote for one of United Russia’s ‘competitors’. 

More and more people also gather around Natalia Solyanik’s improvised campaign stand. Nikolai, a Kirkenes resident, is a well-known sceptic. He wonders whether the action breaches ethical standards: what if someone who comes to vote changes their ‘electoral preferences’? Solyanik objects that the display boards contain only publicly known information. Besides, nothing prevents Putin’s supporters from holding their own action.

But they have a different communication strategy. It is fully demonstrated by an elderly woman who arrives at the consulate on an electric scooter. 

"Do you want to argue with me? I do not even want to listen to you! The people in power in your country are criminals!" she shouts at us without getting up from her seat.

We did not ask whether she meant the Norwegian king, the Storting, or perhaps Ukrainian “Nazis”. 

"I am actually from Arkhangelsk," Olesia says with a smile.

"Then what are you doing here?" the pensioner asks in astonishment. 

The woman refused to say whom she had voted for.

By the time the polling station closed, we had counted 24 people who had voted in the election. About one in three agreed to speak with us. Many admitted that they did not intend to vote for United Russia, but also did not see a worthy alternative.

"I still do not know whom I will vote for, but it will be some opposition party. I will draw an apple in the box — but in a way that does not spoil the ballot, so that it remains valid," says Alina, a Kirkenes resident (name changed). "I am voting because Yashin [opposition politician in exile — Ed.] recommended it, and I trust him.

The debate over whether or not to vote while in exile flares up in the Russian community before every election. There are no winners in it. If you take part in the vote, you legitimise the regime; if you do not take part, you hand your vote to the fraudsters. So everyone relies on their own inner feelings. 

"Through these elections, it is possible to show that this party discredited itself many years ago, and now even more so. So that my vote is not attributed anywhere else, I will give it to the one that supports the war least vehemently,” stresses a young resident of Kirkenes who agreed to speak on condition of anonymity.

“At the commission’s discretion”

According to our calculations, the most popular party among supporters of protest voting in Kirkenes was New People. The Communist Party and the Party of Pensioners were also among the nominal leaders (“The most harmless one!” one respondent laughed). At least two voters spoiled their ballot papers.

None of those surveyed said they had voted for United Russia.

Ten minutes before the end of polling day, we entered the consulate to ask about the number of people who had come to vote. We wanted to compare our count with the official figures, but were unable to do so.

"Unfortunately, we cannot allow journalists into the polling station, Nikolai Konygin, the consul general in Kirkenes, told us. "Abroad, this matter is left to the discretion of the precinct election commission, of which I am the chairman," Konygin replied.

“So it was you personally who decided not to admit journalists?”

Konygin nodded.

In response to our question about whether there were any observers at the polling station, the official spread his hands: “At present, there are none.”

Konygin suggested that we come back the following day to see the voting results. But in the morning, we saw a notice on the door of the diplomatic mission: “The Russian Consulate General in Kirkenes is closed for technical reasons.” Consulate employee and FSB officer Denis Kurilov clarified that the diplomats were having a “rest day” today.

Polling stations also operated at the embassy in Oslo and the Consulate General in Svalbard. By six o’clock in the evening, around 230 people had voted in Oslo, according to the embassy. In Svalbard, commission members boarded a helicopter with a portable ballot box and travelled around the archipelago — to the western shore of Grønfjorden and to Pyramiden, where Russian polar researchers work. Photos published by the Consulate General show voting taking place in field conditions: ballots were filled in literally on tree stumps. The consulate assured that everything took place “in strict accordance with Russian legislation”.