One day they were Sophie, 11, and Daniel, 9 — the children of Ludwig Gisch and Maria Mayer Munos, Argentine citizens who had left their country to escape the high crime rate and resettled in Slovenia.

The next day, they were on a plane to Moscow, being told that they were not Argentinian, but Russian, and that their parents’ names were Artyom and Anna Dultsev — Russian spies who had been living as illegals since before the children were born, and were now returning to their real home, in Russia. For good.

Leaving behind their friends, their school, their neighbors, without so much as a goodbye. Being whisked away on a plane to Ankara, Turkey, where they boarded a second plane with their parents — who had spent the past year and a half in a Slovenian prison on charges of espionage, though the children had been told it was because of an immigration problem. This flight headed to Moscow as part of a multi-nation spy swap. And there, legally on Russian “territory” in a Russian-owned aircraft, they were finally told the truth.

How could this be possible? Who are we? Who are you? What is our life going to be like from now on? What are our real names? What language will we have to learn next? Has everything been a lie? We don’t understand!

All of these questions, and more, must have been going through the minds of Sophie and Daniel Dultsev as they tried to make sense of what was happening. Then they were on the ground, being welcomed to this strange place as celebrities, given flowers by an obviously important man they didn’t recognize, being told he was the President of Russia.

The President! Our parents must be very special.

The Soviet “illegals” program has been well documented, and has been the subject of numerous films, including arguably the best of the fictionalized versions, The Americans — a made-for-TV series that ran from 2013 to 2018. (Caution: extreme violence and sexual content.)

And Vladimir Putin has for decades been working to restore that illegals program to its former elevated status. These people are selected, not only for their intelligence and linguistic skills, but also for their dedication to their country, and their willingness to sacrifice any hope of a “normal” life in order to spy on the country to which they are sent. They marry the person to whom they are assigned, assume the identities of real people who no longer exist, raise families, gather information, spread propaganda . . . and live among us — our neighbors, co-workers, friends — undetected for years.

Even their children are unaware of who they really are — usually until they are old enough to understand and perhaps to be recruited to their parents’ cause.

But occasionally they are caught, as were the Dultsevs. Told that their parents had to go away for a while until their immigration status was straightened out, the children were placed with a family selected by their Russian handler. Still, they thought they were Argentinian until that unimaginable, life-changing day, August 1, 2024, when they learned the truth.

And now what? The parents, Anna and Artyom, will no doubt be awarded good jobs and a pleasant place to live. But what about the children, who will enter school to begin learning the Russian language . . . and the Russian way of life under Vladimir Putin? Are they young enough to adapt easily, and to put aside their past lives in Argentina and Slovenia? Or are they old enough to resist the new life being thrust upon them?

Much will of course depend on the way they have been raised until now: how strict their upbringing has been at home; what they have learned in school and from friends about Russia and the war in Ukraine; whether they will ever again be able to trust their parents completely, or feel the same closeness to them. It all remains to be seen . . . and they may be just fine. But it won’t be easy.

And I worry about them, for they were given no choice.

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
9/18/24