The Future Is History: How Totalitarianism Reclaimed Russia

They walked on the beach, and he talked about his life as though he needed to sum up his accomplishments. He seemed old— something he had never seemed before. He did not seem like a superhero. He kept suggesting they go shopping. He wanted to buy her things. She demurred.

Before she left, he told her not to tell anyone where he was. He was not hiding: he was hiding the fact that he was not in Russia. Zhanna told no one. Even when her boss asked her directly if her father was in Israel, she said, "What are you talking about?"

Zhanna's grandmother knew he was abroad, of course, and she was thrilled. To ensure that he stayed abroad, she decided to publish an open letter to her son on the Echo Moskvy website. She sent it to Boris's cousin to arrange publication. The cousin sent it to Zhanna. Zhanna sent it to Boris.

I have only one thing to ask you, to beg of you—you can call it my will and testament, if you like. Don't go to prison. It will do no one any good. I mean the people who love you and people of good will in general.

How was Dina Yakovlevna suggesting that he avoid prison? She was a woman born and reared in the Soviet Union, so she could not openly recommend emigration: for most of her life, emigres were condemned as traitors to the Soviet cause. Still, everyone would know that when she begged him not to go to prison, she was asking him to emigrate. Since this was an open letter, she addressed the obvious concern, that her son, were he to emigrate, would be perceived as unpatriotic.

I would like to add that my father, Boris's grandfather, was, from a young age, a member of the Bolshevik party, a sincere believer in Leninism, and he personally saw Lenin speak. He was later honored by the Soviet Union in retirement, so he was a most honorable man. Boris's ill-wishers fail to understand that all his thoughts and actions are driven by honesty and his love for Russia.

These are not just words. By the way, this is something that he shares with Putin: a love of Russia.

When Crimea joined Russia, I was euphoric like everyone else. I thought justice had triumphed. I talked about it with my son-in-law, and we both came to the conclusion that Putin had secured his place in history. We are simple people. We didn't know how this was all going to turn out. We didn't see the flip side of the coin.

But now I realize. I think that maybe Putin isn't so thrilled with all of this himself anymore. My daughter says that maybe his advisers weren't all in favor of this scenario. Some of them are probably smarter than others.

Getting back to Boris now. I remember reading in some newspaper that Khodorkovsky was asked, "How did you, being such a smart man, end up in prison when you could have avoided it?" And Khodorkovsky said, "There are smart men and then there are wise men."

Borya, please be wise.

Love, your mother, 16 April 2014

Boris was livid. The idea of being addressed through an open letter by his own mother, the naive attempt to manipulate his will and his image by appealing to Soviet concepts of honor, but most of all, the comparison to Putin—the assertion that they had their love of Russia in common—made him incensed. Still, Zhanna felt that he railed excessively that day on the phone. He seemed to be overreacting a lot these days.

Around the same time, a former socialite who was now an anchor on TV Rain tweeted, "Turns out Nemtsov is in Israel. Probably not returning to Russia, because of criminal probe."¹¹ When they discussed this on the phone, Boris sounded hurt: he had thought this woman was his friend.

He was a terrible emigre: his heart was not in it. The successful ones ran to save their children or their fortunes. He was running to save his life, but his life was in Russia.

A few days later he went to Khodorkovsky's congress in Kiev, and from there he flew to Moscow. He took a selfie at the airport and posted it on Facebook with a reference to the TV Rain anchor's two- week-old tweet. He was back.¹²