The Future Is History: How Totalitarianism Reclaimed Russia

Zhanna went to Kiev, knocked on all the doors of all the television stations and found nothing. Boris suggested that he could call Petro Poroshenko, his friend who was now running for president in Ukraine, and ask him for help in finding a job for Zhanna.

"Though it wouldn't be a good look for me, to have you living in

Ukraine," he added. Now that Russia was at war with Ukraine, his ties to that country, and to the Orange Revolution, were mentioned ever more frequently. He had become the very image of a traitor.

"No, don't call," said Zhanna. It was not because of what he had said about his reputation—she was worried about hers. She had worked too hard to be seen as her own person.

"Then you have to keep doing your job at RBK as long as they'll let you."

RBK belonged to former metals magnate Mikhail Prokhorov, a friend of Boris's who had himself dabbled in politics. He was the one who had once offered to bankroll Zhanna's campaign while also funding her opponent. Prokhorov tried to at least appear independent of the Kremlin, so his media outlets took more freedoms than most. Zhanna had a job in journalism in which she was not forced to broadcast outright lies—this was a luxury. Soon, Zhanna and her father both knew, having a job at all might feel like a luxury.

as soon as Boris and the other Solidarity activists were released from jail, they filed for a permit to hold a peace march. About fifty thousand people came on March 15—a stunning turnout. If the polls were right and only 1 percent of Russians opposed the war, then in Moscow, nearly all of this opposition would seem to have come out for the march. On the other hand, perhaps the polls reflected the fact that only members of the die-hard, risk-everything opposition were willing to express a dissenting opinion anymore, even to a survey taker. Boris marched at the very front, in the middle of a row of people holding a banner that said "Hands Off Ukraine." Behind them, many of the signs said "For Your Liberty and Ours."

Nemtsov was the first speaker at the rally. He talked not so much about Ukraine as about Putin.

He is a sick man. . . . But he is not merely a sick man: he is also a cynical and dishonest man. He has occupied Crimea because he

wants to rule forever!¹⁰

Zhanna went to the march—the first time she had joined her father in the streets since she had found herself running away from police that New Year's Eve back in 2009.

A few days after the march, Nemtsov heard that he would be charged in the Bolotnoye case. Considering what had happened to the other protest leaders, he was not surprised. Udaltsov was in jail; Navalny had escaped prison only because thousands had taken to the streets, but now he was facing new trumped-up fraud charges; Kasparov had left the country after being threatened with prosecution. Boris told Zhanna that he wanted to talk.

"I don't know if I could survive a ten-year sentence," he said. "I'm fifty-five, you know."

He worked out every day. He windsurfed. He loved pictures of himself at the beach. He wore tight blue jeans and white shirts unbuttoned to show off his pecs. His last two or three girlfriends had been younger than Zhanna—Zhanna, in fact, appreciated the current one, a long-legged, dirty-blond-haired young woman from Kiev, for never inserting herself into grown-up conversations, like the one they were having now.

"I'll always support you," said Zhanna. Family could make the difference between surviving in a Russian prison and not.

"You'll lose your job."

"You know I don't care."

"In that case, if they lock me up, will you mention it live on air?"

"You got it."

on march 26, the fourteenth anniversary of Putin's first election, Zhanna turned thirty. Boris called her in the morning.

"I'm sorry I can't come tonight," he said. "I'm in Israel. Will you come visit me?"

Zhanna bawled. They had never missed each other's birthdays. They always had big parties. "I think this is the last time I have a party," she told Raisa. Everyone else came, and everyone noticed Boris's absence, but no one asked about it.

Zhanna flew to Tel Aviv the following week. Boris picked her up at the airport looking like Al Pacino in The Godfather, when his character had the permanent black eye. Except Boris had two.

"I had the bags under my eyes removed," he explained. "I needed a doctor's note."

He was referring to the Yaroslavl city legislature's mandatory attendance policy. But what was he thinking? That he could be here on indefinite medical leave? That the Investigative Committee would change its mind about the probe if he waited them out? Was he planning to stay in Israel?

He said he was staying. He also complained about not feeling at home in Israel. Zhanna said she agreed. It was too dense, too hot, and too humid.

"There are other countries," she suggested. "With better weather."

Her father said nothing.