Most of us have a favorite cause . . . or, at the very least, there’s an issue that evokes a strong emotional reaction. It might be anything from animal rights, to genocide, to the building of a new highway through our neighborhood, to a sleazy fashion trend, to learning that Starbucks has discontinued our favorite latte. Whatever the issue, we find ourselves raving and ranting about it endlessly, working ourselves into a lather of righteous indignation and frustration at being powerless to fix it.

I have a few such causes. But for the past several years, I’ve been focused primarily on Russia’s regression to a Soviet-style, authoritarian form of government under the thumb of Vladimir Putin.

And my fond memories of time spent living and working in Moscow in the early 1990s — when the country had overthrown its communist rule and was inching its way toward a democratic form of government and a capitalist economy — have made the realization of Russia’s U-turn toward dictatorship that much more painful.

So I have railed against it in the only way available to me: by writing about it . . . about the new, onerous laws; about the silencing of independent journalists and other critics of the regime; about the imprisonment of foreigners on bogus charges, to be held as hostages for trade like so many head of cattle; about the rewriting of history and the reinstatement of nationalist propaganda in the schools; about the corruption in the oligarchy behind the throne; and most of all, about the war of attrition against Ukraine.

And it has all taken an emotional toll over the past couple of years. Lately, I find it more and more difficult to read the multiple news reports each day, and to find words strong enough — without becoming obscene — to express my anger and despair. I’ve attributed it to burnout, and tried taking an occasional break — a sort of mental health day — to reboot. But that hasn’t really helped . . . and last night, as I lay in bed staring at the rotating ceiling fan and wondering whether it might suddenly fly apart and decapitate me in my sleep, I had an epiphany. I know why I’m losing my edge in writing about Russia.

Sadly, tragically, it is because — as an American living through the nightmare of Donald Trump’s second presidency — I am not in a position to criticize an outsider without also looking inward. I should be writing less about Vladimir Putin and his rubber-stamp government, and more about my own.

Because, as I read these days about the atrocities being committed by the Russian government — not just against Ukraine, but against its own citizens — I find myself wondering which government I am actually reading about.

As has been well documented, Trump and Putin are cut from the same bolt of cloth. And as long as Donald Trump and his band of conscienceless sycophants continue their rampage against all that is good and decent and inspirational about this country, I can no longer limit my attention to Vladimir Putin.

When I began writing this blog some two and a half years ago, I made a conscious decision to avoid any discussion of American politics, with the exception of international relations. That was because I had seen the way in which people react — with unsuppressed anger, hostility, and even hatred — to differing opinions on the subject. And I do not ever want to be the spark that ignites that kind of a conflagration, even if it is only verbal and online.

But I have recently broken that promise to myself, because I love my country — the real America — and my conscience will no longer let me ignore the very real dangers presented by the current administration, or remain silent about them. And while I have no intention of backing off on my criticisms of Putin and his gang of thieves and murderers, I find myself looking at him from a different perspective, giving more weight to what’s happening on this side of the Atlantic, and analyzing the possible connections.

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So stay tuned, good readers. I’m not sure what’s coming next . . . in fact, I’m never sure until my fingers touch the keyboard . . . but I have a feeling it’s going to involve a good bit more of the three Rs — reading, research and realization — and a little less sleep as well.

And hopefully a smattering of humor now and then, for the sake of everyone’s sanity.

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
5/14/25