ALEXEI NAVALNY, Russia’s most conspicuous opposition politician, would not look out of place on the presidential campaign trail in America, with his strident speeches and polished manner. But in a country where politics is mostly bland bureaucracy, Mr Navalny, a 39-year-old with broad shoulders and bright blue eyes, cuts a striking figure—when he is allowed to speak. At a rare public appearance in the Kostroma region, 300 kilometres (188 miles) north of Moscow, he banters with old ladies, takes selfies with teenagers and spars with hecklers. In his stump speech he attacks local officials (“the mafia”) and Vladimir Putin’s ruling party (“crooks and thieves”). He implores voters in local elections on September 13th “not to be silent” and to cast their ballots for a largely unknown party, RPR-Parnas.

The Kremlin has tried to bar Mr Navalny from politics. He is not allowed to hold office because the Kremlin gave him a criminal conviction on trumped-up charges. His own party, called Progress, was disqualified. Yet in the real world of Russian politics, rather than the Kremlin simulacrum, Mr Navalny is a professional politician who has had a greater impact on the country’s future than any member of parliament or leader of a “licensed” political party outside government in recent times.

He first gained recognition as the main leader of a series of street protests in 2011 when he rallied parts of the urban middle class against the Kremlin. His stated aim of building a modern state with European characteristics appealed to many who had once voted for Mr Putin. In 2013 he received 27% of the vote in the Moscow mayoral election despite being in and out of jail, and having almost no access to state television. This rattled the Kremlin. Yet it realised that putting Mr Navalny in jail would only have boosted his popularity.

Instead, Mr Navalny was discredited as a crook and agent of foreign influence. “In the popular imagination I am that guy who wants America to enslave Russia,” he says. The Kremlin contrasted his alleged pro-Westernism with its own narrative of imperial nationalism that culminated in the annexation of Crimea.

Paradoxically, says Mr Navalny, Russia’s drift towards war and isolation has made his position less hopeless. A few years ago talk of a genuine opposition taking part in elections was fanciful. Putin supporters as well as liberals were able to argue that any possible replacement would probably empower darker forces, unleash a war or lead to attempts to resurrect the Soviet Union. “Now Putin has done it all himself,” says Mr Navalny.

And just as Mr Putin has shifted, so has he. Once a blogger and street protester, Mr Navalny has become the leader of a democratic movement. He helped to consolidate parts of a fractious opposition and form a coalition with Mikhail Kasyanov, who served as prime minister during Mr Putin’s first term as president.

Middle-class warrior

His perseverance seems almost irrational given Mr Putin’s approval rating of over 80%. But Mr Navalny argues that the constituency that came on the streets in 2011 and voted for him in Moscow in 2013 has not disappeared, even if it is demoralised. “Russia is a country of large cities where at least 30% of the population supports our views,” he says. It is the same constituency that formed Mr Putin’s original support base when he entered politics: the urban middle class. “I actually represent the interests of a large number of the Russian population,” he says.

The Kremlin seems to think that contention is at least plausible. It barred Mr Navalny and his allies from running in local elections in two cities with large proportions of educated voters, Novosibirsk and Kaluga. Some activists went on hunger strike, putting public pressure on the Kremlin, which in the end agreed as a sop to let RPR-Parnas run in the Kostroma region, encompassing some of the country’s most rural and depressed areas. Mr Navalny seized the opportunity. Dozens of volunteers have manned street stands handing out flyers, while candidates travel to small towns to meet voters.

They have made corruption a central issue in the campaign. Many see it as the organising principle of Mr Putin’s government, as well as its biggest vulnerability. “There may be convinced Stalinists in Russia, but there is nobody in Russia who supports the idea of a state official owning a palace,” Mr Navalny insists. Mostly excluded from the airwaves, in just three weeks the RPR-Parnas team has nonetheless lifted its voter recognition from 25% to 50% in the city of Kostroma, and from 15% to 40% in the surrounding region.

For Mr Navalny the main goal of participating in regional elections is to show that an opposition party can clear the 5% legal threshold necessary to win representation. He hopes such a feat will revive popular interest in politics and revitalise the democratic electorate, not least ahead of the parliamentary elections in 2016. To this end he is conjuring up somewhat far-fetched next steps. “First we get into parliament, then we form an important faction and afterwards form a government through a coalition agreement,” he says.

Next for Mr Navalny is a further evolution of his public image. He aims to assume the mantle of the eastern European protest leaders who won power in Soviet satellite states in 1989, eventually leading their people into the European Union. He recently spent three days conversing with Adam Michnik, a Polish historian and former dissident, comparing the experiences of Poland and Russia for a book to be published in Russian in October, followed by an English translation.

The tone of the conversation is very different from the self-deprecating ease of 1990s liberalism and centres around a people’s craving for status. “My task is to create a new type of patriotism without Russian tanks going into Czechoslovakia, Poland or Ukraine. If Russia needs an expansion, it has to be a cultural and scientific one,” he tells Mr Michnik. “My main motivation is to prove that Russians are no less suited to democracy than any other people.”

Where Mr Navalny differs most obviously from post-Soviet liberals is in his hard-man attitude to politics. He doubts that economic reform ideals will ever be sufficient to turn Russia into a modern European country. The entire political system needs overhauling. “I am a politician, not a philosopher, and I am fighting for power,” he says.