Why did the French get it?

Dear Madam,

It was both a feeling of joy and a feeling of anxiety that prompted me to write to you.

The joy is caused by the fact that you Russians are becoming more and more like us French. No, no, don't think that I mean the obvious passion of the wealthiest Russians for our resorts, both mountainous and Mediterranean. This, you know, is in the order of things, in this you are no different from either the Americans or the Japanese. And it is not the increasingly fashionable consumption of French wines that brings you closer to us: for us, drinking wine is not a fashion, but part of the culture, we are born with it, but for you - most often - it is something from the field of status confirmation. It's about something else, it's about what we in France call "la manifestation", or more colloquially "la manife", and what you in Russia call a rally.

Let me clarify my thought. For us, going to the manife is a completely ordinary thing. Some joke that protesting is the national French sport. As soon as something is wrong, we go to manife . It wasn't always like that. It started a long time ago, back at the time when the demonstrators were met by the police, when they hit us on the head with batons, arrested us, threw us in jail. But the authorities gradually realized that there was no harm from the rallies, on the contrary, it was a kind of whistle from which the accumulated steam escaped. But this is a useful thing, because when we go out on the manife, we make it clear to the authorities that we are dissatisfied with this or that, and the authorities cannot help but react to this (at least in France, although it seems that something remotely similar is happening and in Russia).

So, you began to go to rallies. And you were beaten on the head, detained, put in a bullpen (I think that's what you call it?), but they quickly realized that it is much more reasonable to allow rallies than to try to ban or disperse them. I repeat, in this rally passion, you Russians become like us Frenchmen. True, we never hold a manife in support of the authorities. Somehow we don't get it. Well, okay, this is a trifle. In a word, this similarity made me happy.

I was also pleased that your Prime Minister, who is also the favorite in the presidential race, knows the Russian classics by heart, in particular, Lermontov. Do you think I'm kidding? Not at all. Ask our Sarkozy, or, as we call him, "Sarko" (by the way, you also call Putin - "Pu", another similarity!), Read by heart, say, Baudelaire. Do not wait, moreover, it is possible that he had not heard of Baudelaire. Perhaps he has the most vague idea of ​​me.

Now about the feeling of anxiety. It is caused by the choice of the poem by Mr. Putin. Of course, I understand that it is now 2012, that the time is coming for the bicentennial anniversary of the Battle of Borodino, that this will contribute to our mutual patriotic frenzy. And yet: why did he have to read:

"Guys! Isn't Moscow behind us?

Let's die near Moscow

How our brothers died!”

And we promised to die

And the oath of allegiance was kept

We are in the Borodino battle.

And then, sparkling eyes, literally shouted: "The battle for Russia continues!". Battle? With whom? With us French? Are you in danger of war? Does your Pu think that our Sarko is going on a campaign against the Kremlin? Yes, Sarko is not without what is called the "Napoleonic complex" (as, indeed, almost all men of short stature), but not to the same extent! I'm just sure that Sarko almost fell out of his chair when he heard Poo's speech. I even admit that he called Obama and asked to convene an emergency meeting of the NATO headquarters.

Whatever you say, it was not necessary to read this particular part of Borodino. Well, if your prime minister wanted to show off Lermontov's knowledge, then why didn't he choose, for example:

“I love my homeland, but with a strange love!

My mind won't defeat her.

Nor glory bought with blood

Nor full of proud trust peace,

Nor dark antiquity cherished legends,

They do not stir in me a pleasurable dream.

Isn't it wonderful? Isn't it patriotic? And as for the last words “to the sound of drunken men,” it’s not scary, because no one remembers this.

But if you want to know my opinion, then he, Vladimir Putin, if he really loves Lermontov so much, it would be fitting to read with the same pathos:

"Farewell, unwashed Russia,

Country of slaves, country of masters,

And you, blue uniforms,

And you, their devoted people.

Perhaps behind the wall of the Caucasus

I will hide from your pashas,

From their all-seeing eye

From their all-hearing ears."

For this I remain your devoted servant,

Voltaire