When Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine was launched, the overall mood among those around me – Russians from a range of ages and social groups – was one of scarcely believable elation, even hope. ‘Judging from the news this morning,’ one man said to me that day, ‘the borders of the Russian Empire will soon be moving westwards.’
I didn’t share his enthusiasm. ‘In two years’ time, we’ll be lucky if there’s a Russian Empire at all,’ I replied.
Last Saturday, as Prigozhin and his Wagner group set out on their abortive coup, the picture was reversed: for the first time in 18 months, I felt a limited optimism about Russia’s future.
On reading Prigozhin’s statement that ‘there are 25,000 of us and we’re going to Moscow to sort it out,’ I couldn’t help but feel exhilarated. Not that I entertained any illusions about the Wagner group, who deal with malcontents by crushing their heads with a sledgehammer.
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