In the Russian city of Yakutsk, capital of the Sakha Republic, where temperatures average a bitter −34 °C in the depths of winter, Vladimir Putin spent last week canvassing support and wrestling the local snow man. For on Sunday Russia held legislative elections, placing at stake all 450 seats in the State Duma, and although President Putin is not a member of any party, he was there to solidify his own reputation while lending a hand to the closely allied United Russia.
In the end United Russia bettered their tally from 2011, winning 54.20% of the vote for a total of 343 seats, an increase of 105. The Communist Party, the Liberal Democratic Party of Russia, and A Just Russia all suffered significant losses, taking in turn 42, 39, and 23 seats, although they are anyway considered more or less loyal to the Kremlin, with only A Just Russia occasionally questioning the president. The similarly-minded Rodina and Civic Platform each took one seat, in elections where the turnout stood at just 47.88%.
With a population approaching 300,000, Yakutsk is often considered the world’s coldest city. Though it is located 450 kilometres south of the Arctic Circle, the average temperature in January is −38.6 °C, with a low back in 1891 of −64.4 °C one of the chilliest temperatures on record. By contrast summers in Yakutsk are surprisingly warm, averaging in July at 19.5 °C and occasionally reaching as high as the mid-20s.
Whether he’s holding wrestling sessions for the Russian national team, arm-wrestling with American congressmen or regional youth groups, or practising judo, its Soviet counterpart Sambo, or karate, Putin is especially fond of combat sports. He’s also never shy when it comes to showing off his bulging biceps in some of the more remote locations on earth, going shirtless while horse riding on a Siberian camping trip, hugging a polar bear during an excursion to the Arctic, or firing a crossbow to collect skin samples from whales off the coast of the Kamchatka Peninsula in Russia’s Far East.
So it was inevitable on his visit to Yakutsk that Putin would opt to strip down and take on the local snow man. But in the middle of September, with the weather still relatively balmy, things quickly got moist. The snow man was more of a swamp man, certainly a very sweaty man beneath his costume of all-white Siberian fur, as Putin pounded him playfully but firmly on the mat. And at the end of this display of Slavic virility, despite a brief flurry from the snow man late on, the Kremlin-appointed judging team declared their president the decisive victor.
As the sun glistened over his damp torso and scarlet roses in odd numbers tossed by Russian maidens rained down, Putin’s approval rating soared to an unprecedented high among the notoriously sceptical Yakuts. However his foray east has done little for the local economy, with the snow man of Yakutsk reporting a dip in the sales of subsequent live shows. Perhaps he had better take up bear training or other circus-related acts, or find a suitable change of attire and forego the snow for the mud season.