By Nina Bachkatov and Romain Constantin
On January 19, Russia’s presidential administration and the ruling United Russia party announced the figures who will lead the party’s campaign for the September 2026 parliamentary elections — the first national ballot since the launch of the “special military operation” in Ukraine. The five-man list includes former president Dmitry Medvedev and foreign minister Sergei Lavrov, both advocates of a hardline foreign policy; two Heroes of Russia active in patriotic youth movements; and a Hero of Labour who is a prominent war correspondent.
The move could result in veterans accounting for up to one-fifth of the 450-seat State Duma and nearly one-third of United Russia’s parliamentary group. But similar advantages were extended to veterans ahead of the 2023–24 regional and local elections, with limited success: few candidates were elected, and many faced resistance from entrenched local elites accustomed to distributing candidacies among themselves.
Yet preparations for the 2026 elections are only one expression of a broader Kremlin strategy: integrating the war into a new national narrative and reshaping Russia’s political and social system around it.
The new veteran
The “veteranisation” of Russian society extends far beyond electoral politics. Vladimir Putin has long upheld the Soviet — and later Russian — cult of the Second World War veteran as a cornerstone of national identity and unity. But as those veterans disappear from everyday life, they are being replaced by veterans of the war in Ukraine, who are far more visible to younger generations.
The elevation of these new heroes — portrayed as “defenders of the motherland” — serves a clear political function. It reinforces the narrative of Russia as a besieged fortress facing existential threats from Nato, while normalising the risks of a prolonged military confrontation with the West.
Since the start of the war, the Kremlin has effectively proposed a new social contract: those who serve can expect an enhanced role in society upon their return. Putin has described them as the “true, genuine elite — people who have proven their loyalty to Russia in action”. To institutionalise this process, the Kremlin launched a dedicated programme in 2024 — Time of Heroes — at the Presidential Academy (RANEPA). Its aim is to channel veterans directly into the state apparatus at all levels, shaping Russia’s future governance. Already, eight veterans have been appointed as regional vice-governors or ministers.
The most high-profile case is Artyom Zhoga, a former commander of the elite Sparta battalion, who was appointed plenipotentiary presidential envoy to the Urals federal district — one of the most prestigious positions outside Moscow.
New society, new jobs
For the majority of returning soldiers, prospects are considerably better than they were for veterans of the Chechen or Afghan wars, reflecting Russia’s stronger economic position and current political stability. Although western sanctions have constrained growth, they have not produced mass unemployment. According to Rosstat, Russia faces a labour shortage of around 800,000 workers — a figure roughly comparable to the number of troops deployed in Ukraine. The labour ministry estimates that the country will need an additional 3mn workers over the next five years due to a demographic deficit that predated the war.
Yet labour demand does not always match geography. Many recruits come from poorer regions, small towns and rural areas, where limited prospects may have encouraged enlistment, attracted by generous bonuses and monthly pay. The war has also disproportionately drawn from lower social strata — groups that might otherwise have faced substantial barriers to social mobility.
To address this challenge, military service contracts guarantee veterans and their children preferential access to higher education through a quota system reserving 10 per cent of state-funded university places. In 2025 alone, St Petersburg State University enrolled 2,400 students under this scheme.
The most capable veterans are being integrated into state structures. Many others will return to civilian life, while a significant share will remain in uniform, as the target strength of active military personnel has been set at 1.5mn since 2024.
A new economic order
These social measures are only part of the promise attached to the “new elite” that Putin has described. Since the war began, the Kremlin has also launched a far-reaching restructuring of the business environment. As many of Russia’s wealthiest individuals and foreign corporations exited the country, the state moved to consolidate control over key assets. This resulted in an extensive campaign against businesses deemed disloyal. In 2024 alone, authorities seized assets worth $30bn (2.4tn roubles). Nationalisation has become a central instrument: 67 companies were brought under state control that year, representing 544.7bn roubles in assets — up from 483.5bn in 2023 and 280.5bn in 2022.
A striking example was the 2025 seizure of Moscow’s Domodedovo airport, once a flagship of post-Soviet privatisation and now slated for auction. Some analysts argue that this wave of “nationalisation” amounts in reality to deprivatisation — the reassertion of state ownership, often justified by alleged legal violations or threats to national security. Yet outright nationalisation is only one mechanism of redistribution. Many foreign- or oligarch-owned assets were instead sold to other Russian entities, as illustrated by McDonald’s transformation into Vkusno i Tochka, the state’s symbolic buyout of AvtoVAZ for one rouble, and the sales of Tinkoff and Rosbank.
Russia’s billionaires present a revealing case. Early western sanctions aimed to weaken them financially and turn them against the Kremlin. The strategy largely failed. Those who left did so only after sustaining heavy losses, while sanctions curtailed the capital flight seen in the 1990s and 2000s. Those who stayed have remained silent — and were rewarded. Although the number of billionaires fell from 117 to 83 in early 2022, with collective losses of $263bn, by 2025 their ranks had grown to a record 140, with combined wealth close to pre-war levels.
Preparing post-war Russia
The Kremlin has also drawn lessons from its treatment of veterans of the Afghan and Chechen wars, who were ignored, impoverished and left to beg in railway stations. Today, the Russian state operates from a far stronger internal position than during those earlier crises. While the Afghan and Chechen conflicts destabilised the political system, Putin has chosen to use the war in Ukraine as a tool of national consolidation and narrative control.
The elevation of military figures to senior civilian roles is particularly significant. It adds a new constituency — the voennye (“the military”) — alongside the siloviki, the security and law-enforcement elites on whom Putin has long relied.
Provided that Putin can bring the war to an end on terms acceptable to his own authority, Russia’s post-war system is likely to remain dominated by the siloviki, economically underpinned by a reconfigured oligarchy, and symbolically legitimised by veterans — the newly exalted embodiments of a resurgent, victorious Russian nationalism.