Translated material
Yeltsin passed away
Recently we have seen him in a purely “human” guise - a pensioner reading on a bench, an enthusiastic fan, a strict grandfather, a loving great-grandfather, a husband and father who has returned to the bosom of the family. And in his last presidential years, he bore little resemblance to the ceremonial portrait of the first president of Russia.
But that's not the main thing. The main quality of a hero is not historical correctness or blindness, not the number of mistakes, not the ratio of victories and defeats. A hero must have greatness. Even if it's scary.
And selflessness.
Every nation has its own hectors and patrons, which the people deserve. Yeltsin is often billed, but, as life shows, the Russians hardly deserved their Yeltsin. Rather, it was given to them in advance.
Boris Nikolayevich Yeltsin was often called the Tsar. He was. Unpredictable, fearless, transcendental. It was hard to be in the same room with him, not being his relative or friend. It was hard to love him, and it was hard not to be impressed by him. It was never clear whether he was looking at you, or if he was looking, whether he was seeing you. You could never guess what exactly he was hearing if he was listening. No one has been able to solve the riddle called “Yeltsin’s political instinct.” Not one of his phantasmagoric “squiggles” was ever predicted. No one could reliably explain why he fell and rose, committed actions that would not be forgiven by anyone, and suddenly again turned out to be the only hope, did not live up to expectations and suddenly exceeded the most daring of them.
Because the king. He was branded for “Byzantinism” - and he suddenly showed miracles of openness, he was charged with great power - and he suddenly seemed to drive the last nail into the coffin of the Soviet empire, he was reproached for economic illiteracy - and he suddenly began to act like your head American Treasury, he was blamed for populism - and he was undertaking liberal reforms, he was suspected of senile weaknesses - and how he would jump out, how he would jump out, how he would dance... And vice versa.
We have all long been accustomed to being afraid that he will die. Ten years ago, his death would have been tantamount to a global catastrophe on the territory of the largest country in the world. Today he left us, and this means that the man who - for the first time since the days of the bloody Stalinist tyranny - set the scale for this country is no longer sitting on the bench.
This scale was determined both by the scale of his highly contradictory personality and the scale of the unimaginable risks that he took upon himself. For us and for us. Without asking if we agree and want to. As befits a tsar, mobilized and called upon by the revolution.
Many books have already been written and will be written about Yeltsin. Films have been and will be made. For some, the years that have passed under Yeltsin’s sign mean the collapse of everything. For some it is the beginning of everything. There is no one for whom these years would mean nothing. For everyone who knows how to think and is able to appreciate, Boris Yeltsin will remain a man who arbitrarily chose freedom for the entire country. That is, the hardest thing that could be offered to its citizens. Something they couldn't survive without.
All Russian citizens saw his heart. He'd worn it down to the bone while serving as their president. One can argue whether he used his heart wisely and blame bad habits. Or you can just hope that he deserves, if not light, then at least peace. For living with your heart and spending it on everyone.
They say you can tell the truth about a man by looking at his wife. Naina Iosifovna Yeltsina would have been an honor even to a fairy-tale kingdom, but she lived in a difficult country, with a difficult husband, who was wearing out his only heart before her eyes. And she probably held the hand of the first Russian president until the very end. It is not enough even to be a king to deserve such a woman and such a friend. There was probably something else that we will never know about, it will remain their secret. They say that when Yeltsin left his harmful job, he finally felt like a happy “just a man.”
Working with Yeltsin was always difficult and never boring. He was the most action-packed boss and the most fascinating subject of description and study. He combined the incongruous: on the one hand, he was overwhelming with greatness, on the other, he was damn charming and had a completely irresistible smile; he could seem almost asleep, but suddenly he would get up to say the only possible words. Or impossible - that has happened. They told jokes about him, but they respected him. They were afraid of him, but they called him “grandfather.”
Dear Russians!
He will never again address you with these words, with indescribable intonation, funny ending, characteristic shortness of breath. Grandfather died. And you will never have another one again.