The Future Is History: How Totalitarianism Reclaimed Russia

dugin: Greater Russia is the Russian World, the Russian civilization. I think the territory of Greater Russia roughly coincides with the territory of the Russian Empire and the Soviet Union, give or take. . . . posner: So let me ask you. Is the Caucasus a part of it? Georgia,

Armenia, Azerbaijan? dugin: Certainly, of course. These are parts of Greater Russia.

But that does not mean that— posner: What about Central Asia? dugin: Central Asia—of course, certainly. posner: The Baltics?

dugin: I don't think so. I think perhaps parts of the Baltics and

western Ukraine, under certain circumstances— posner: But everything else is—

dugin: Greater Russia. Look, civilization doesn't have those kinds of borders.

It devolved into an argument on civilizational exceptionalism. Posner was a difficult interviewer. Still, there it was, an hour-long interview for one of Russia's largest television audiences on the idea of the Russian World. Dugin also mentioned traitors and, pressed by

Posner, said that they should be annihilated, and, pressed further, he said their names: Navalny, Nemtsov, Kasyanov, Ryzhkov.* He said what he believed to be true of them, and what he believed all Russians should know: that these men were employed by the Americans.³²

Dugin was giving many interviews and writing many articles—the urgency of the situation amplified his already superhuman efficiency. He was writing that America was waging war against Russia, that Russia was finally stepping up to the challenge, and that the entire world might be on the verge of erupting into its third giant war.³³ But by the end of May, he was growing impatient and even disappointed with Putin. Rather than embark on an open, all-out war, the Kremlin seemed intent on creating a quagmire. What was the point of that? It was true that a slow war in the east would serve the purpose of destabilizing Ukraine, sapping its strength and weakening its new government, but these were petty, tactical goals. Dugin wanted Putin to invade Ukraine openly, using regular troops, and to aim for a glorious victory that would expand Russia. Indeed, it would be only the beginning of Russia's expansion. But when this failed to happen, Dugin knew the reason: Putin was being held back by his moderate, fundamentally pro-Western advisers. He invented a term for them: "sixth column." If the "fifth column" were people like Nemtsov, who Dugin believed were working directly for the United States, then the "sixth column" were traitors to their civilization, not their country. They hid in plain sight, in the Kremlin.³⁴

Dugin had always told his supporters, "We seek not power but influence." Now he used the same juxtaposition to assuage their disappointment. "Our power is negligible," he said, "but our influence is immense."³⁵ This became something of a slogan among his closest allies. It helped that they kept hearing their words repeated by top Russian officials: the evidence of their influence was there for all to witness, if they knew what to listen for. The fact that Putin's actions were not keeping up with their words should only strengthen their resolve.

Outwardly, Dugin's status shifted too. His right-hand man, Valery Korovin, became a member of the Presidential Civic Chamber, the body created to rule civil society. Dugin was no longer a fringe activist. Even if he now found himself used as a foil to make Putin's views and actions look moderate, this served to legitimize Dugin's own positions too.

in late april, Khodorkovsky gathered about three hundred people in Kiev for what he called a "dialogue." It was a strange list of names: famous writers, not-so-famous activists, and people who were important to Khodorkovsky. Masha was invited, probably because she had been charged in the Bolotnoye case and because she had corresponded with Khodorkovsky when he was in prison. Behind bars, he had become something of a village elder: people wrote to him with their questions and their grievances. Masha had had grievances: she had felt betrayed and abandoned. Khodorkovsky's response emphasized the virtues of patience, of rising above the fray, and of taking the long view. Masha no longer remembered what she had written, but Khodorkovsky must have, since he invited her.

In his opening address at the congress, Khodorkovsky emphasized the long view again:

People have been asking me, What's the point of this conference? . . . I give my usual answer, one that saw me through my ten long years [behind bars]: Do what you must and come what

may I have learned over the last ten years to think long-term

and to remember that darkness will always cede to light and dreams

that seem most unrealistic today will become reality tomorrow.³⁶