From Republic, Sept. 18, 2026, https://republicmag.io/posts/118103. Complete text:
Editors’ Note. – A day before the Duma elections, people in St. Petersburg lined up in front of gas stations. Many had to wait up to five hours to refuel their cars. More than half of all gas stations in the city had no gas at all. The local newspaper Fontankachecked 175 gas stations, and only 55 of them had gasoline. Stations outside the city started rationing gasoline – 30 liters per car. In the meantime, authorities relaxed fuel quality rules, allowing operators to sell subpar Euro-2, Euro-3 and Euro-4 fuel. Supposedly, this is only a temporary measure that will be in effect until June 30, 2027. Refining volumes have hit their lowest levels in two decades. One would think that this is excellent material for campaign ads – but no one dares to raise a stink over the issue. Political parties, governors and even Putin, who addressed the nation the other day, encouraging people to vote – none of them have anything to say about the issue. All they can do is ask people to be patient and tolerate the shortage a bit longer. And people are tolerating it: They post pictures of cars lined up in front of stations on social media; they brag to others that they were so fortunate they only had to spend an hour waiting; they routinely download interactive maps showing stations that still have gas. In this article, Mikhail Shevchuk explains why the fuel shortage in Russia has not evolved into a political crisis and why people aren’t even complaining. It is not just because Russians feel helpless and are used to relying on the paternalistic government; rather, it is the ultimate demonstration of the fact that politics in Russia is completely divorced from real life.
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Russia is experiencing a fuel crisis, but even such a major event that directly affects people’s lives has failed to induce a reaction and lift people out of dormancy. No matter how much people suffer, they don’t expect the government to help them. The conviction that politics is completely divorced from real life is one of the key features in the Russian political mentality.
The second wave of the fuel shortage in September was even more obvious than the first one that happened during the summer [see Vol. 78, No. 27, pp. 3-6]. The first wave started with reports about problems with fuel coming from Russia’s easternmost provinces. Initially, it was people in cities like Chita and Blagoveshchensk that had to spend nights in lines. Then, little by little, the shortage started spreading westward, eventually reaching St. Petersburg, Moscow and Russia’s western provinces. The Crimea was the worst: For a while, there was no gasoline at all on the peninsula, and then the authorities had to start rationing it – which they are still doing. Naturally, prices skyrocketed.
The situation improved for a short time, but in August and September cars began to line up in front of gas stations again in Moscow and St. Petersburg. Primarily, it is AI-95 fuel that is hard to find; but even getting AI-92 may be tricky. There are apps now that show what kind of fuel is available at each station – But by the time you get there, it often turns out that this information is no longer valid. Car owners swap stories on social media about spending hours driving from one station to another looking for fuel; having to wait in a line for many hours; someone trying to cut in without waiting, etc. People from remote provinces leave comments to these stories, expressing their satisfaction with the fact that big cities are no longer immune to their problems and reminding others that they have to spend much longer times waiting, sometimes literally the whole night, and that they have been living like this for months now.
It would be an exaggeration to say that it is absolutely impossible to get gas. But you can no longer do it effortlessly whenever you like. An errand that used to be so simple now requires much more time, some special planning efforts and, to a degree, good luck.
At the same time, the crisis that objectively exists and directly affects the lives of practically every motorist has failed to produce an outcry that would motivate people to do something. Car owners calmly discuss the situation and exchange tips, but they are not furious. Even if they are disgruntled, there is just a hint of anger in their remarks. It is the same petit-bourgeois mentality that [poet Aleksandr] Vertinsky ridiculed in “What I Have to Say.” People share pictures and stories the same way they share vacation photos: “Just look at this line! It goes around the corner! Can you imagine that?!” Unlike during the first wave in May and June, you no longer hear dreadful urban legends about monsters who drill into the fuel tanks of their neighbors’ cars to siphon off some gas, or stories about hoarders who buy up and resell fuel in plastic containers. (In fact, I think this practice has been outlawed by now.) If you only spend an hour waiting instead of two or three, you can consider yourself lucky and brag about it.
What does the government say about the issue? Back during the summer, Vladimir Putin pretended to care. He even approved some pipe-dream plans to build a lot of small refineries. Today, though, the government doesn’t even bother to fake interest – even though we are right in the middle of a campaign season, and politicians are supposed to be arguing about things, coming up with ideas and offering solutions.
Instead, for example, here is a recent quote from Aleksandr Belsky, speaker of St. Petersburg’s legislative assembly: “I hope we can fix things within the next few weeks. I am confident we can do it. The important thing is, we must all learn to be patient.” Leningrad Province Governor Aleksandr Drozdenko echoes him: “Everybody must comply with established limits when refueling their cars. Please be patient.” Drozdenko claims that his daughters, too, spend hours waiting for gas. This is the enemy, he says, testing our steadfastness.
In a word, these guys are running on patience. Others have no platform at all; back during the summer shortage, there were a few Communist Duma deputies raising Cain in the media, but today you won’t be able to find any quotes from them even if you look. Putin addressed the nation a couple of days ago, encouraging people to vote, but he did not even mention any problems with gas.
In other words, people accept the fuel crisis as a given. It creates problems and inconveniences for everyone, but at the same time, no one seems to care. People are completely indifferent. Back when the authorities tried shutting down mobile Internet [see Vol. 78, No. 11, pp. 11-12], at least some deputies protested against it, and some people even tried to challenge this policy in court. But today, everybody keeps mum. It’s almost as if people think, “If we can’t get any gas, it must be part of the Lord’s plan.”
Of course, everybody knows what caused all these problems. Ukrainian drones have been quite effective in targeting Russian refineries. Even if Russia manages to fix the damaged equipment, the same refineries are often targeted again. Ordinary Russians are aware of all this and often talk about these things among themselves. But this realization doesn’t motivate them to take any action.
There is no gasoline because refineries aren’t working. Refineries aren’t working because of Ukrainian attacks. Ukrainians target Russian refineries because Russia is conducting a special military operation in Ukraine. Russia is conducting a special military operation because such is life. Russians don’t complain, because they realize that the government is simply unable to solve the problem right now. It is amazing how quickly Russians have once again adapted to a lower quality of life. It’s almost as if having gasoline was a temporary aberration, whereas the shortage of gasoline is the norm that people have been expecting.
The subconscious political mentality of the Russian people has a key element: Russians inherently believe that politics has nothing to do with real life, that it is impossible to effect any changes in real life through politics. Russian history is full of examples where people failed to get the desired result through political action. (In fact, I can’t remember even one instance when Russians got the result they were looking for.) Instead, they usually get something entirely different. In a situation like that, you only have two options. You can convince yourself, in retrospect, that the result you got was precisely what you wanted, or you can learn to be patient and just wait for the next thaw or the next chill, depending on your personal preference.
This is somewhat similar to pagan mythology, where you have the Upper World and the Lower World. Every now and then, gods can hurl a thunderbolt from above, but it is only a momentary phenomenon that does not affect the basics of people’s earthly lives. And even if it is a protracted storm rather than a single thunderclap, it is still temporary, and all you can do is wait. There is nothing you can do about it. The Russian leadership shares – or pretends to share – the same approach. These people talk about sanctions as if they had nothing to do with the special operation or the annexation of the Crimea. To them, sanctions are like a thunderstorm that happened all of a sudden, for no reason at all. And now that they have happened, all you can do is get used to them. And it seems like they genuinely think so.
There was a very brief period when Russian people actually had a voice, but the memory of those times has been erased almost entirely. Strictly speaking, even that period is now perceived by Russians as a short-term experiment and departure from the norm.
Having a parliament, elections and political parties – all these weird inventions seem too rational, which is why people don’t trust them. When confronted with the elements, you use the language of mysticism to communicate with them. This is why many people feel that worshiping idols is a much safer bet.
In fact, the Russian version of democracy does not envisage any mechanisms for people to exercise their will. It is assumed that people don’t have a will of their own; people only want what the state wants. People are expected to trust their government, and the only way they can communicate with the government is through petitions. Right now, however, even that communication channel is closed. The government knows it can’t give people what they want, so in order to discourage them from asking, the government says that only weak people complain about their circumstances. In persuading the people, the government also persuades itself. And people accept it and agree that complaining is useless.
Perhaps this is why Russians have been wandering in the desert for almost 30 years, led by Putin. Perhaps he just wanted them to stop complaining. On the other hand, when people complain about something, it means they believe the person they are complaining to can help them. It means they trust him and believe in him. If they stop complaining, it means they have no more faith in their leader. By the way, people have stopped complaining about Internet blackouts and messenger bans, too. They all just use virtual private networks and other loopholes. They don’t complain about price hikes either.
Russians are often depicted as people who need the paternalist government to provide everything for them. But situations like the current fuel crisis demonstrate that these claims are mere illusions crafted by one level of government for another. In reality, ordinary Russians never expect their government to provide anything for them. In a crisis, they know they can only count on themselves and don’t expect any particular help from their government. They are not helpless; they have simply gotten used to being left to fend for themselves.