From September 18 to 20, 2026, Russia completed the renewal of its State Duma, electing members for all 450 seats—the first nationwide parliamentary election since the full-scale escalation of the Ukraine conflict over four years ago.

With 95.18% of votes counted, United Russia secured 57.83% of the vote and is expected to win approximately 355 seats—about 30 more than in the previous term. The Communist Party of the Russian Federation (CPRF) followed with 13.81%, but its seat count declined from 57 to around 40, a loss of nearly one-third.

The official voter turnout stood at 59.32%, a slight increase compared to the previous election five years earlier. The distribution of power has remained largely unchanged, yet the gap between parties has widened.

In a press conference following the election, 82-year-old Gennady Zyuganov, leader of the CPRF, directed criticism toward the current political and economic trajectory. He noted that global economic growth averages 3% to 4% annually, while Russia’s economy has hovered around 1% for roughly the past 15 years.

Russian Academy of Sciences had projected that Russia’s GDP growth could remain near 1% annually over the next 10 to 15 years, while the Central Bank forecasted a narrow range of 0.5% to 2.5%. In the first two months of 2026, GDP contracted by 1.8% year-on-year.

Zyuganov warned that if the current development model persists—especially a prolonged war that exhausts society—Russia risks losing everything. “If the course remains unchanged, this protracted conflict will end in collective failure,” he stated.

His remarks were sharp, yet Zyuganov has consistently supported the ongoing military campaign, acknowledging Western and NATO involvement as underlying factors. His real concern lies not with the war itself, but with the continued dominance of oligarchs and financial capital in shaping national outcomes. How, he asked, can victory be achieved when the economy remains under their control? He also cited a 40% annual increase in basic food prices for ordinary citizens.

Zyuganov further pointed out that during the four-and-a-half-year duration of the war, the number of Russian billionaires rose from 105 to 155.

According to the 2026 Forbes Russia Rich List, total wealth among Russian billionaires increased by 11% in the past year, reaching a record $69.65 billion, with the number of listed individuals rising from 146 to 155. Steel tycoon Alisher Mordashov topped the list with a net worth of $37 billion—an increase of $8.4 billion—driven largely by an 80% surge in gold prices.

For Zyuganov, these individuals avoid normal taxation, refrain from productive investment, and fail to convert wealth into national strength.

The CPRF’s central platform for the 2026 election, dubbed the “Victory Program,” included key proposals such as the nationalization of strategic industries, an increase in the minimum wage, and the restoration of free healthcare and education. Oil, gas, mining, finance, and defense sectors should serve broader national interests, with resources channeled toward industry, technology, defense, and social welfare—not concentrated in the hands of a few.

This framework is not new. The Soviet Union once achieved rapid industrialization and robust war mobilization through centralized resource allocation. Zyuganov seeks to revive precisely this capacity of state-directed mobilization.

Yet the challenge lies in the present-day context: modern Russia is not the Soviet Union of the 20th century. Decades of private ownership, entrenched financial structures, and complex networks of vested interests cannot be dismantled overnight through a mere declaration of nationalization.

Where did oligarchic privilege originate, and who sustains it behind the scenes? This critical question remains unaddressed by Zyuganov. As a result, his critique, though forceful, faces significant practical obstacles. He calls for constraints on oligarchs yet offers no mechanism to alter the existing power structure; he advocates for state-led mobilization without proposing a fundamental overhaul of market systems. How far can this leftward shift go? Is it genuine policy direction or merely post-election rhetoric aimed at influencing Kremlin decision-making?

Zyuganov’s critique reflects a deeper contradiction within Russia’s development model: the demand for strong state capacity to sustain war mobilization clashes with the reality of resource allocation captured by oligarchs and financial capital. When military consumption and wealth concentration coexist, the social contract begins to erode.

The CPRF supports the war but criticizes its execution—a contest over the definition of patriotism. Not anti-war, but arguing that the current strategy is flawed and poorly managed. This appeals to voters frustrated by stagnant growth, inflation, and widening inequality, but it does little to challenge the core of power.

More crucially, national reassertion over strategic assets risks becoming hollow without accompanying reforms: progressive taxation, antitrust enforcement, rule of law, and independent oversight. Without them, nationalization may simply transfer control from old oligarchs to new elites rather than serving public interest.

The CPRF itself remains dependent on the existing system and lacks independent civil movement or organizational depth. Zyuganov is 82, and succession remains unresolved. Thus, his recent left turn appears more like a tactical statement after the election than a transformative agenda capable of challenging the Kremlin’s authority.

The fundamental issue remains: in a system where power and capital are deeply intertwined, and where political competition and legal accountability are absent, the idea of “resources serving national strategy” easily becomes empty rhetoric. Russia cannot overcome low growth and societal fatigue unless it answers the central question: for whom do resources serve?

Original: toutiao.com/article/1877071795121164/

Disclaimer: The views expressed in this article are those of the author alone.