At Dacha Resort, Election Still Exerts Pull

After his constitutional stroll around the lake this morning, Alexei Vlasov will tear himself away from the bird song and serenity of his country retreat here and board the local train for a bumpy, 90-minute ride to smoggy Moscow.

The train may well be crowded, and if so, all the more satisfying for the 72-year-old Vlasov, who is breaking his bucolic reverie to vote for President Boris N. Yeltsin.

The incessant “vote or lose” warning broadcast by the president’s nervous reelection team appears to have been heard loud and clear in verdant playgrounds of the privileged such as this dacha enclave 40 miles east of Moscow.

From young entrepreneurs to well-positioned pensioners, all of Kratovo is galvanized for today’s watershed decision on whether Yeltsin wins a second term as president or is replaced by Communist Party challenger Gennady A. Zyuganov.

Fears of voter complacency seem misplaced, at least among these civic-minded summer people.

“How could we not vote? We must. It’s the fate of the whole country at stake!” insists Vlasov, a retired government supply official, aghast that some might be indifferent after months of election hoopla. “Sure, it’s pleasant out here, but what kind of citizen would I be if I failed to make my voice heard at this important juncture?”

Yeltsin’s backers have been warning for weeks that a future of freedom and democracy hinges on voter turnout, that apathy among the affluent could leave poorer voters tipping the election in favor of Zyuganov.

Every attempt has been made to maximize the turnout. The runoff has been moved up to midweek from the traditional Sunday for fear that too many would escape to the countryside during a July weekend. Special polling stations have been created at railroad stations and airports for those on the move. Absentee ballots have been provided to 1.4 million, including two cosmonauts orbiting in the Mir space station and three pilots held hostage by Taliban guerrillas in Afghanistan.

The June 16 first round of balloting saw 70% participation, with 35% of those who voted supporting Yeltsin and 32% supporting Zyuganov. But some drop-off in the turnout is expected for the finale as tens of thousands of students have dispersed for the summer and peak vacation season has begun.

To supplement the get-out-the-vote strategy, scare tactics have been employed.

State television this week treated viewers to a four-part film series about Stalinist repression of writers and artists. Pro-Yeltsin campaign ads suggest that Zyuganov would bring back gulags and rationing, while the incumbent promises a future of power and prosperity.

But many potential voters may be bored with a campaign that has been an all-consuming issue for months.

“There are some who think it makes no difference whether they vote or not, that the country is in such a mess that neither candidate could do much to fix it,” says Irina Tuyeva, a waitress at the Tavern restaurant on the main road into this summer rest spot. “But most people recognize how much is at risk. It’s no trouble to go out and vote again. If it takes five elections to get a president, we’ll go to each one.”

The 65-year-old Yeltsin’s absence from the public eye in the final days of campaigning has caused little worry among his electorate, as most seem to fear a Communist comeback more than another bout of ill health for Yeltsin.

Likewise, there has been less domestic than foreign reaction to the controversial mutterings of loose cannon Alexander I. Lebed--Yeltsin’s newly appointed security chief and political sidekick.

Lebed on Tuesday called for stricter border controls to protect the motherland from foreign smugglers and may have again offended missionaries of the Mormon Church with a backhanded apology for having called them “mold” and “scum” last week.

“I did not want to offend the Mormons, but since they have nevertheless taken offense, I am planning to airdrop a team of Seventh-day Adventists into Salt Lake City. If they are received there as brothers, I will apologize to the Mormons,” Lebed told a news conference.

Lebed’s free rein in the campaign homestretch appears to be designed to woo nationalist voters to Yeltsin’s side and bolster his reelection chances.

Campaign activists say that a turnout of 65% or more would mean a guaranteed win for the incumbent. But if fewer than 60% of the 106 million eligible voters take part, Zyuganov’s reliable base of pensioners and disgruntled laborers could gain a disproportionate say in the election.

“If the voter turnout is low, the minority may rise to power,” warns Yeltsin’s campaign manager, Sergei A. Filatov. “This would be a tragedy for the country.”

Apocalyptic forecasts of a Communist future and terrifying reminders of the totalitarian past have spurred the civic spirit, at least in the prosperous watering holes outside major cities such as Moscow and St. Petersburg.

“I remember perfectly well what it was like under communism--bare shelves and lines for everything,” says 32-year-old Vasily Filipov, who worked as an underground cable-layer in the days when he had little to say about his career path. “My life is much better now. As a private contractor, I earn a salary that allows me to live like a Westerner.”

Kratovo’s dachniki--those who live in the sprawling wooden country houses nestled among birch trees--might be expected to express allegiance to the politician who has presided over a five-year transition that has brought them relative wealth.

But even some who earn meager wages say they will do what it takes to keep Russia on the reform track, that the prospect of a Communist victory is more than enough motivation to get out the Yeltsin vote.

“Everyone wants to go forward, not backward. We’ve had enough of Communist mischief,” says Nadezhda Boyarintseva, a 38-year-old video rental clerk, housewife and mother. “Sure, my job was stable before, but so was my salary. Now I can improve my circumstances if I want to. I like this feeling of being in control, and to keep it, I’ll vote for Yeltsin.”