Is Siberia retaining its autonomy? Municipal reform and unexpected protests

In the spring of 2025, Vladimir Putin signed a law on "On the General Principles of Local Self-Government (LSG) in a Unified System of Public Authority". The legislation replaced the previous legal framework on LSG. While most of the provisions introduced by the new law came into force on 19 June 2025, full implementation is not expected until 1 January 2027.

The new law significantly restricts the already limited revenues and powers of municipal governments. This is not surprising: the Kremlin has long been seeking to cement the vertical structure of power and monopolize control over political processes at all levels. However, this time things did not go according to the Kremlin's plan. Influential regional leaders, municipal deputies, and even ordinary residents spoke out against the municipal reform. The most visible public backlash was not caused by the redistribution of powers, but by what seemed to be a purely formal issue: the structural shift from a two-tier system to a single-tier system.

In this article, REM recounts the history of the rise and fall of local self-government in Russia, examining why the reform prompted protests from both local politicians and citizens.

Why does Putin want to destroy local self-government?

The level of local self-government has always been the most problematic for the Kremlin in terms of its integration into Russia’s highly centralized system of governance. Contrary to popular belief, the full integration of the local level into the 'vertical of power' has never been achieved. It is often the local level that produces political surprises, particularly during elections — a process that is highly controlled and orchestrated at other levels — and provides space for dissent. This pattern has persisted in recent years.

For example, in September 2024, another member of Putin’s United Russia party won the direct election for mayor of Bratsk, the second-largest city in the Irkutsk region and a major industrial center. However, he won as an independent candidate, competing against a candidate from the same United Russia, who was supported by the regional governor. This year, the story is repeating itself in another municipality in the same region: in the Irkutsk district, two United Russia candidates are once again vying for the mayor's office.

In March 2025, the Revda City Council in the Sverdlovsk region dissolved itself due to a conflict with regional authorities. In another town of the Ural region, Berezovsky, city council members defied the regional administration by electing as mayor a “technical candidate”, whose participation in elections was only supposed to simulate competition. Consequently, the winner of these 'elections' filed a lawsuit against the 'voters' who elected her, and she won the case. Also in March, in the Pudozhsky District of Karelia, deputies gave an unsatisfactory assessment of the district head's report.

The list of local conflicts could go on at length. Clearly, a country as large and diverse as Russia is difficult to fit into the uniform bureaucratic mold the Kremlin has been attempting to impose for the past quarter-century.

A short history of local self-government in Putin's Russia

Local government reform was one of Vladimir Putin’s first major political initiatives. Discussions began as early as 2002, and in 2003, the first Law on Local Self-Government came into force. This legislation introduced a two-tier system of local governance across the country: the upper tier comprised cities and districts, while the lower tier included rural settlements. As a result, the number of municipalities increased severalfold.

At the same time, the Russian authorities began to curtail direct mayoral elections and, more broadly, the political autonomy of big cities and their local elites. One contributing factor was the elimination of the majority component in State Duma elections. When single-mandate districts were reintroduced several years later, many cities were subjected to a practice known as “petal cutting”: electoral boundaries were drawn in such a way that the territory of regional capitals was split into multiple parts and combined with large rural areas. This diluted the influence of urban voters, who tended to be more oppositional, leaving them in the minority within these constituencies.

The implementation of the reform was almost completed by 2006. However, a gradual rollback began in the early 2010s — a process that has significantly accelerated in recent years.

By the early 2020s, federal domestic policy officials had firmly decided to standardize the structure of local self-government. In 2020, a constitutional amendment was adopted, establishing that local self-government is now part of a “unified system of public authority”. This was followed in December 2021 by the introduction of a new draft law on local self-government.

New local government reform

Unexpectedly, the bill stalled. The reform encountered such strong resistance at the regional and local levels that its adoption was postponed for several years, ultimately passing only in the spring of 2025. One of the reasons for the opposition was the proposed abolition of the rural settlement level.

This resistance was driven by deep dissatisfaction among local elites. The reform effectively excluded them from formal political life, even at the most basic, rural level. Abolishing rural settlements would eliminate approximately 99% of all elected local positions. At the time the law was signed, there were around 13,500 rural settlements in Russia, with 150,000 elected rural deputies.

In the Perm region, the transition to a single-tier model has led to what Perm-based political scientist Vitaly Kovin calls “political depopulation”. The vast majority of the several thousand local political actors who had previously operated at the settlement level chose to withdraw from public life. Rather than competing for positions at the district level, the heads of dissolved settlements opted to retire from politics altogether — many focused on their private life and, in numerous cases, left their villages for good.

The abolition of municipalities — through their merger into larger administrative districts — may appear to be a mere formality. However, it has had a profound impact on the self-esteem and social status of many influential people in rural communities, who often serve as local deputies.

These people have been discontented for many years due to the 'optimisation' of rural areas — a policy of cutting social infrastructure that has disproportionately affected the countryside. Across Russia, schools and medical centers have been steadily closing, leaving many areas without full-service hospitals and clinics. This has stripped villages of their future and accelerated decline. The current reform is taking away the last remaining element of local life: agency — the ability to make decisions for themselves.

It seems that several influential regional governors succeeded in conveying these concerns to federal authorities, who reluctantly agreed to a compromise: the new law includes a provision allowing regions to independently decide whether to retain the rural settlement level.

As a result, the transition to a single-tier local government system was continued, but a uniform standard was not achieved. By the time the law in its final version was signed, 20 Russian regions had already eliminated rural settlements, and a further 26 regions intended to do so once the law had been passed. Another 43 regions stated that they would retain either a mixed or two-tier system.

The decision on whether to keep or abolish the rural settlement level now rests with regional authorities. Some of them have already encountered problems because of that.

Wave of discontent

Following the signing of the new law on local self-government in March 2025, authorities in several regions moved quickly to implement the transition to a single-tier system. The Krasnoyarsk Territory and the Altai Republic, both in Siberia, were among the first to implement the reform. The response was swift and unexpected: large-scale protests broke out across these regions.

In Krasnoyarsk Krai, the authorities attempted what could be described as a “municipal blitzkrieg”: the regional law mandating the transition to a single-tier system was adopted rapidly and without public consultation. The reform envisions a drastic reduction in the number of municipalities — from 472 to just 39 — with only six designated as urban districts (down from the current 17). The law also abolishes direct mayoral elections. Under the new rules, mayors will be selected by municipal deputies, but only from among candidates nominated by the governor. Previously, mayors were appointed by councils of deputies based on a competitive selection process, which, at least formally, was open to anyone interested.

Opposition to the reform in Krasnoyarsk Krai has grown into a large-scale movement, both geographically and in terms of the social groups involved. Veterans and descendants of participants in the Great Patriotic War, Cossacks, and even participants in the war against Ukraine have publicly spoken out against the reform. Even the Immortal Regiment marches dedicated to Victory Day on May 9 turned into protests: participants carried not only portraits of their relatives but also posters with the slogan “For our region!”. Deputies of the regional legislative assembly received more than 500 individual and collective appeals against the reform.

Some municipal officials and deputies — including members of United Russia — also publicly opposed the reform. Three United Russia mayors resigned early. The most significant escalation came when one of the district councils, chaired by Olga Nekrasova (also elected from United Russia), filed a lawsuit against the regional governor and legislative assembly. “Numerous errors were made. The most critical — the law was passed without public approval, without public hearings. People were against it, we protested, but the authorities ignored us”, Nekrasova said.

Following the turmoil in Krasnoyarsk Krai, the head of the Altai Republic encountered even greater public resistance. Andrei Turchak — former head of United Russia’s General Council and current deputy speaker of the Federation Council, who was “exiled” to Altai, clearly did not anticipate such opposition.

The republic’s multi-ethnic composition plays a significant role: the titular ethnic group accounts for only 35–40% of the population, with ethnic Russians forming the majority and a substantial Kazakh minority also present. Russian and Altai villages often lie side by side, forming dense and stable social networks that are highly mobilizable.

Compounding this is the fragmented nature of the local elite, shaped largely by the region’s economic structure. Most Altai Republic’s residents are not dependent on state employment or major corporations. People make a living by renting out their homes to tourists, selling honey from their apiaries, or collecting cedar cones.

After the new bill on local self-government was introduced in the regional parliament, protests in the Altai Republic erupted almost immediately, culminating in one of the largest rallies in the region’s recent history. Initial demonstrations broke out across various parts of the Altai Mountains over several days, with residents blocking roads and displaying protest banners on trucks.

These localized actions culminated in a mass rally in the regional capital, Gorno-Altaysk. By local standards, the turnout was unprecedented: estimates suggest between 2,000 and 4,000 people, representing approximately 1–2% of the republic’s total population of 200,000. People travelled from across the region to take part in the protest; some were dressed in traditional attire. Mobile Internet was shut down in Gorno-Altaysk on the day of the demonstration.

In addition to opposing the municipal reform, protesters demanded the resignation of the head of the republic and the head of the regional government, as well as action against oligarchs. This broader agenda suggests that while the municipal reform served as the trigger, the protest was rooted in deeper, more systemic public dissatisfaction with the authorities.

Following the rally, public meetings began taking place in villages across the Altai Republic, where residents voted overwhelmingly against the reform, even though the authorities had previously claimed to have held public hearings at which they received popular approval of the reform.

As in Krasnoyarsk Krai, the authorities in Altai chose not to heed public opposition and proceeded to adopt the relevant legislation. Now, as in Krasnoyarsk, the future of the reform in the Altai Republic will be contested in court. Activist and former parliamentary staffer Dmitry Todoshev has filed a lawsuit against the El Kurultai (the regional parliament), demanding that four articles of the revised law on local self-government — specifically those abolishing rural councils — be declared invalid.

The reform has also moved slowly in neighboring Altai Krai. During public hearings on the proposed transformation of Yeltsovsky District into a single-tier administrative unit — a change that would eliminate the rural level of local self-government — residents expressed strong opposition. Of the 2,000 residents in the district center, 306 attended the hearings, and 270 voted against the proposal.

Another reform-related scandal is unfolding in Khakassia, a region bordering both the Altai Republic and Krasnoyarsk Krai. Deputies of the Supreme Council of Khakassia, controlled by United Russia, voted to abolish rural settlements. However, Governor Valentin Konovalov of the Communist Party vetoed the bill and refused to sign it. United Russia, which dominates the regional parliament, will not be able to override the veto until the fall, as the parliament has gone on vacation.

Against this backdrop, other republics in Siberia and the Far East have opted not to implement the reform at all. The two-tier model of local self-government will be preserved in Yakutia and likely in Tuva. The head of Yakutia has already stated that, given the vast territory and low population density, a transition to a single-tier system is not justified. His position was publicly supported by State Duma Deputy Speaker Sholban Kara-ool, the former head of Tuva. In Tuva, the authorities decided to first consult the residents of rural settlements before considering the elimination of the lower level of local self-government.

What does all this mean?

The authorities’ abrupt push to abolish the lower tier of local self-government has unexpectedly triggered significant public backlash, drawing in segments of society that were previously considered loyal to the Kremlin, including local and regional bureaucracy. Perhaps more importantly, public discontent with municipal reform marks a rare instance in which a major political reform has stalled to the point that the government has been forced to retreat, even if only temporarily.

Surprisingly, the protest was not driven by disputes over budgets or administrative powers, but by something largely symbolic: preserving the independent municipal status that rural villages had only recently acquired. In other words, the conflict appears to revolve around issues of self-identification — which likely explains why it resonates so deeply with local deputies, village council heads, and residents alike.

It turned out that the “vertical of power” so carefully constructed over the years by Putin’s administration did not reach all the way to the grassroots.

There is another important dimension to these events. According to participants themselves, the experience of engaging in public hearings and protests often transformed their perspective. As people became more involved, they grew more informed — and more politically aware. Arrested activist Konstantin Smirnov recalled the words of two residents of Dubrovichi after one such hearing. “How people have changed, how knowledgeable they’ve all become”, said a pensioner who had lived in the village for decades. She confessed she had never imagined her neighbors in this light — as active citizens. Another resident wrote on social media that when she looked through the window at the people who couldn’t fit into the packed hall and were still standing outside in the rain, holding their ground, she saw in them “the true masters of their land”.