HOW DO YOU SLAY A DRAGON?

The dragon has gone too far in its war against the people, and therefore all of its heads, however many there are, should remember that they carry personal responsibility for what has happened and that this price will not be forgotten. At the same time, I wish to address myself to those who entered the Russian Colosseum to watch the battle against the dragon, hoping to applaud the heroes from the safety of the stands. When I was sitting in my prison cell I used to read your articles praising the heroes, and I still read them today. I see in them the desire that someone will slay the dragon for you. I see a terrible disappointment when this doesn’t happen.

I became interested enough to ask: do you understand that should your wish come true and someone slays the dragon for you, your disappointment will be even greater?

In order to become a professional dragon-slayer a person must themselves either be a dragon at the outset, or else become a dragon in the process. And then their team will be a typical dragon’s team, with the same methods and aims.

And if you think that the hero will fight the dragon and that you’ll receive the benefits (freedom and democracy, at least), then you’re naïve (if, that is, you expect to receive freedom and democracy, and not simply work as a slave). We already went through this with Boris Yeltsin.

Can the dragon be slain? Of course it can. That’s not the issue. The main question is: why? And it’s much more difficult to answer that than many people realise.

For me and for many of my fellow citizens, the unbroken thousand-year history of Russia is important. The roots of our common European – and now our Euro-Atlantic – civilisation are important.

It’s important for me that we’re not aliens in this Western world, but among its creators and defenders. Yes, we lost a great deal when we protected Western civilisation from the Tatar-Mongol horde, from the Asian invasion, and as a result we became different people; but in our culture we didn’t become Asian. I don’t want to say anything against the ancient and wonderful Asian culture, just that it’s not ours. We’re closer to William Shakespeare and Miguel de Cervantes than to Hafez or Sun Tzu.

The modern world isn’t simply globalisation, communication and cooperation. It’s also competition on a new, global level, on the level of world civilisation.

Endless wars and contempt for human life have left us with far too little to suggest that we could afford to start another, new, separate civilisation that was able to compete.

Of course, there’s always a place on the fringes of progress, and the modern world is sufficiently humane and aware not to encroach upon this fringe. There are gentle ways to use those who are too weak to take part in real competition.

But I hate the idea that my country might occupy this space! We’re European! We helped build and defend this civilisation and have as much right to our place in it as do the French, the Germans, the British, the Australians, the Canadians or the Americans!

For centuries we’ve walked side by side, shoulder to shoulder with them, and we know that we need them and they need us. We refuse to listen to stupid and greedy people who want to drive us apart for their own selfish ends.

Yes, we can find a lot of events in history that it would have been better had they not happened, but even our troubles and our wars have been shared. To this day we remember  the 50 million people who died in Europe in the Second World War alone, both friends and enemies… But the 50 million who died in China? We know  about them… Do you feel the difference?

The first working title of this book was Gardarika: the Country of Cities . Why? Because Gardarika was a country from those long-off times when Europe was one. And we will be that again; it’s our historic destiny. But having our place at the shared table depends on us. It depends on our talent, our brains, our ability to anticipate the future and achieve those specific goals that will make us, our children and our grandchildren happy.

I’m making my contribution to this work. May whoever is capable of it, do more – and better.