Dr. Miklos K. Radvanyi
The surest way to destroy a given nation is to steadily erode with uncompromising ruthlessness the moral compass and the intellectual integrity of its present as well as future generations. The best tactics to such an evil strategy is to entice the uninformed people with an exorbitant degree of mythomania – habitual lying and exaggeration to an abnormal degree – that must be coupled with the complete denial of any sane reality.
Accordingly, when Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin the former lieutenant colonel of the KGB (Committee for State Security), an adviser to the mayor of St. Petersburg, Deputy Mayor of the same city, Deputy Chief Administrator in the Kremlin, the Director of the FSB (Federal Security Service), Secretary of the Security Council, and Prime Minister in 1999, came to power as the President of the Russian Federation on March 26, 2000, he promised to end Russia’s post-Communist humiliating disintegration. Moreover, as President, Putin presented himself as the only man who would restore order after the chaos of the 1990s, rebuild the state, discipline the oligarchs, revive the military, and return Russia to its rightful place among the great powers.
For a time, the overwhelming majority of Russians and many gullible foreign politicians believed that he had succeeded. Yet, history has recorded a cruel irony: the man who promised to resurrect Russian greatness became the architect of its decline. Putin did not inherit a dying Russia. He inherited a wounded Russia – and instead of healing its deepest problems, he preserved them, intensified them, and finally turned them into a national catastrophe. His first mistake was confusing the strength of the state with the strength of one man. A truly powerful country builds institutions that survive leaders: independent courts, honest administration, competitive politics, free science, and a society capable of correcting mistakes. Putin’s antediluvian Russian tyranny moved in the opposite direction. Power became increasingly concentrated around the Kremlin. Loyalty became more valuable than competence. Criticism became betrayal. This created the greatest danger of any tyrannical system: a leader surrounded by people afraid to tell him the truth.
Russia’s second tragedy was economic. With enormous natural resources, brilliant scientists, and a highly educated population, Russia had the ingredients to become one of the great innovation economies of the 21st century. Instead, Russia remained dependent on oil, gas, minerals, and state-controlled giants. Natural resources can make a country rich, but they cannot alone make it modern. The greatest Russian export should have been technology, medicine, engineering, and ideas. Too often, it became a prison for talented young people who left to search for opportunities elsewhere.
Then came Putin’s most consequential decision: his illegal war against Ukraine. Whatever arguments the Kremlin offered – security, history, NATO, Russian identity – the result has been devastating for Russia itself. A state that wanted recognition as a great power became more isolated from many of the world’s richest economies. A state worried about NATO expansion helped produce exactly what it feared: a larger and more united NATO. A government that spoke of protecting Russian lives sent hundreds of thousands of Russians into their premature graves. Russia’s illegal invasion did not demonstrate strength. It exposed Russia’s weaknesses. Military power is not only tanks and missiles. It is logistics, technology, alliances, economic depth, and the confidence of its citizens. The Russo-Ukrainian war revealed corruption, strategic miscalculation, and the dangers of a political system where questioning the leader’s assumptions became almost impossible. As the rest of the world clamor for imaginary peace between the two warring states – the United States of America and its allies in particular – must understand that rational diplomacy does not work with self-absorbed tyrants.
Perhaps, the most lethal damage, however, is spiritual. Russia’s greatest achievements were never only military victories. Russia gave humanity Tolstoy and Dostoevsky, Tchaikovsky and Shostakovich, Mendeleev and Sakharov. Its greatest influence came not from fear, but from culture, science, and human imagination. A civilization cannot reach its full potential while teaching its brightest minds to stay silent. This does not necessarily mean that Russia itself is dying. Russia is far bigger than any tyrant. It has survived invasions, revolutions, dictatorships, economic disasters and national collapses. Russian civilization will continue after Putin, just as it existed before him. What is dying is Putin’s version of Russia: the belief that greatness comes from control rather than creativity, territory rather than prosperity, obedience rather than trust. The ultimate tragedy is that Putin understood something real: the overwhelming majority of Russians genuinely desired dignity after the collapse of the Soviet Union. They wanted stability, respect, and a better future. Yet, a nation’s greatness cannot be rebuilt by restoring the fears of the past. As Talleyrand said after the fall of Napoleon and the return of the Bourbons: “They have learned nothing, and forgotten nothing.” This “forgotten nothing” mentality can be applied to Putin who famously called the collapse of the Soviet Union “the greatest geopolitical catastrophe of the 20th century.” Moreover, Putin “learned nothing” because he greatly underestimated how much the former Soviet republics have changed after their independence.
The final judgment of the Putin era thus far is this: he sought to reverse the collapse of the Soviet Union, but instead he repeated its central mistake – building a system where the state became more important than the people it was supposed to serve. Russia may one day rise again. But it will have to do so beyond Putin’s shadow.