India and Pakistan have exchanged missile strikes. Nuclear weapons have not been used so far.

Main Topic Link to heading

Good morning, dear friends! My name is Igor Yakovenko. Today is May 7th, in Kyiv. It’s now 07:41, and we continue our morning reflections on what is happening in Russia, in the world, in Ukraine, and in our souls.

The First Inauguration of Putin Link to heading

On this day 25 years ago, on May 7, 2000, Putin’s first inauguration took place, marking a quarter century of his time in power. Putin radically changed the country, turning it into a totalitarian Reich that poses a danger to the entire surrounding world and is very poorly suited for living. In 25 years, the country has become completely different. This is truly a threat to all of humanity.

Another Wave of Attacks on Ukraine Link to heading

And now to current events. First, the news of what can be called negotiation mania. And the Russians—that is, a move toward peace. What’s meant is that the Russians launched a ballistic missile strike on the outskirts of Sumy. As a result of the attack, three people were killed: a 20-year-old woman, a 41-year-old man, and a six-year-old child. Four more children and four adults were hospitalized with injuries, two of them in serious condition. Additionally, the Russians used Shahed drones to attack Zaporizhzhia. There were at least 13 strikes on the city. People are trapped under the rubble. Strikes were also carried out on Kyiv and other cities. Now, the news: we’re witnessing a rapid movement toward peace. As a result of the start of these negotiations—already involving the administration of the 47th President of the United States—the number of strikes has significantly increased, and so has the number of civilian casualties.

News of Victory-Mania Link to heading

Now for the news of victory-mania. According to Ushakov, Putin’s aide, North Korean military personnel will not take part in the parade on Red Square on May 9. He listed the foreign countries whose servicemen will march in the parade on Red Square: Azerbaijan, Vietnam, Belarus, Egypt, Kazakhstan, China, Kyrgyzstan, Laos, Mongolia, Myanmar, Tajikistan, Turkmenistan, and Uzbekistan. So, in short, post-Soviet countries plus China, Laos, Mongolia, Egypt, and Myanmar. North Korea will not be participating. Why? I have no idea. When asked about North Korea, Ushakov said, “I listed all the countries that are participating.” What happened? Why did Kim Jong Un decide not to showcase his country’s military might on Red Square? I have no idea.

Threat of War Between India and Pakistan Link to heading

Now the main topic—undoubtedly the main one—because this is truly an event, an event that could change the entire situation on planet Earth. Let’s hope it doesn’t. But nonetheless, this is a very real, open window into hell. There is a certain threat of war between India and Pakistan. So far, it’s only a threat, but a rather serious one. Given the scale of these countries—India has around 1.5 billion people, making it the most populous country in the world, and Pakistan is no small country either, with about 250 million—both countries possess nuclear weapons and delivery systems capable of striking at least neighboring targets if the conflict cannot be stopped at the very beginning. If it does escalate into a full-scale war, then I believe the war in Ukraine could become a secondary issue.

Last night, the Indian Armed Forces struck what they called terrorist infrastructure—targets in Pakistan and the Pakistan-controlled part of Kashmir. This so-called Operation Sinjar targeted nine Pakistani sites. India claims these were terrorist positions. Pakistan claims civilians were killed and that the strikes hit civilian infrastructure. This all occurred two weeks after Delhi accused Islamabad of supporting militants responsible for an attack on tourists in the Indian-controlled part of Kashmir, which killed 26 people. Pakistan’s government denied the allegations.

Let me emphasize again: this is an armed escalation between two countries that possess significant nuclear capabilities. There is hope that escalation can be avoided, since up until now such serious conflicts have been prevented. But the situation is different now—diplomatic ties have been nearly severed. There are no diplomatic representatives between India and Pakistan, no visas are being issued, no trade talks are happening. The leaders of these countries haven’t met in 10 years, since 2015.

What’s behind this conflict? India has cut off the flow of water through the Indus River to Pakistan, and Islamabad sees this as an act of war, since Pakistan’s agriculture depends 90% on this water. Responsibility for the original terrorist attack was claimed by the Resistance Front—a partisan group operating in Indian-controlled Kashmir. This organization is designated as terrorist and has claimed responsibility for killing Indian religious minorities, politicians, businessmen, and tourists. Its main goal is to separate Kashmir from India.

The Pakistani government expressed condolences on April 22, but India accused Islamabad of backing the militants. Prime Minister Modi cut short his trip to Saudi Arabia, returned to New Delhi, and made strong statements about hunting terrorists to the ends of the earth. In response, Pakistan severed diplomatic ties, suspended trade with India, closed its airspace to Indian aircraft, and expelled Indian diplomats. Pakistan denies any involvement of its citizens in the terrorist attack and called the April 22 incident a false-flag operation, essentially accusing India of orchestrating the attack.

Once again, the biggest blow to Pakistan is India’s suspension of the 1960 Indus Waters Treaty, which governs the water distribution of the Indus River between the two countries. This is a devastating move. Although Pakistan has some reserves, this issue requires expert analysis, which I hope we’ll get soon. But even a surface analysis shows that this is the fundamental cause of the escalation—territorial disputes, yes, but above all, India cutting off water to Pakistan. This is a serious threat.

Both sides are trying to show strength to their own populations. There’s public outrage on both sides. In India, people are demanding that the government demonstrate power; in Pakistan, the same. So, the likelihood of continued airstrikes is very high. Military equipment is being moved to the conflict zone—there are videos confirming this.

Who can stop it? Internally, neither government likely has the resources to halt this escalation. If a serious war starts, there is a high chance it could escalate to nuclear conflict. It is unlikely to remain conventional, because in terms of conventional forces, India is significantly stronger. And in the event of defeat, Pakistan might resort to nuclear weapons.

There’s a rough parity in nuclear arsenals—each side has at least 100, possibly up to 170 nuclear warheads in ready-to-use condition. India possesses a nuclear triad—medium-range and intercontinental ballistic missiles, submarines, and aircraft capable of delivering nuclear warheads. Indian submarines, incidentally, were recently serviced in Russia—I remember helping organize those contracts back during my first term as a deputy. So their nuclear triad is in full readiness. Pakistan also clearly has delivery systems, though I’m less familiar with the details of its triad. Still, both countries have enough firepower to destroy the Earth several times over if this escalates.

So, that’s the situation. There is still a sense that it might not cross the point of no return, but it is definitely a worrying situation. And of course, if the U.S. had a more adequate leader, serious negotiations between India and Pakistan might already be underway. The United States has the resources to stop this war—perhaps only the U.S. president can do that. Unfortunately, that president is currently Donald Trump.

Trump has already commented—he was woken up and asked about the situation. In his typical fashion, he replied (and I’ll quote because it’s important): “It’s a disgrace. We just found out about it. I think people suspected something like this might happen, given past events. India and Pakistan have been in conflict for many decades, even centuries.” Of course, I must point out that Pakistan hasn’t even existed for a century—so Trump lives in a world of alternative history and geography. He concluded by saying, “I hope this ends soon.”

Naturally, Trump forgot to add that if he were president now, none of this would be happening. And of course, it’s all Biden and Obama’s fault.

To sum up: India and Pakistan possess huge nuclear arsenals—more than enough to destroy the planet. Let’s hope this doesn’t escalate into a catastrophe.

Answers to Questions Link to heading

Before moving on to answering your questions, I want to say that our evening program for today has not yet been finalized. There is, at the moment, a preliminary—very preliminary—agreement with Dmitry Borisovich Oreshkin, but he still needs to confirm it in the morning. So, for now, I can’t say anything with certainty. But in any case, there will be some kind of evening program, so stay tuned for updates. Now, I’ll proceed to answer your questions.

Did Xi Arrive Early to Leave Before the Parade? Link to heading

Questions and answers from Viktor Khripun A. Do you consider the possibility that Xi is deliberately arriving in Russia early to take care of his business before the parade, and then cite some urgent matters to leave early so as not to attend on May 9?

Dear Viktor, this idea seems, well, a bit too subtle for our circus, as Viktor Shenderovich likes to say. I think that would be quite a slap in the face to Putin. I don’t really understand why Xi Jinping would do that—honestly, I don’t. It would be a very heavy-handed insult to Putin: he came, didn’t attend the parade, and left. In short, I don’t think that’s going to happen. Anything is possible, of course, but I would be very surprised if your hypothesis turns out to be correct. Xi Jinping could simply have chosen not to come at all, rather than come and leave without attending the parade. After all, he was invited specifically for the parade and the May 9 celebrations. So it’s unlikely.

Socrates and Reflections on Writing Link to heading

Question from Ilya. I can’t fully grasp the fact you mentioned about why Socrates strongly opposed writing. One moment, something just turned on, not sure what. So why did Socrates oppose writing so sharply? Reading Plato’s dialogues, I understand that if I dared to debate Socrates on this topic, I would inevitably agree with his arguments in the end. But if we imagine a thought experiment with you, which of Socrates’ arguments would be difficult or impossible for you to refute? And what arguments from your side might convince him?

Dear Ilya! Of course, let’s go ahead with such a thought experiment, where I debate Socrates. I must say, I appreciate your sense of humor. But the thing is, Socrates’ arguments are well known. They’re from one of Plato’s famous dialogues, Phaedrus. In that dialogue, Plato presents a conversation between Socrates and his student Phaedrus. The topic there includes writing and love, and it’s attributed to the orator Lysias. I don’t have Plato’s collected works with me at the moment, so I’m relying on memory.

What arguments does Socrates make? First of all, that books don’t allow for questions—you can’t ask them anything. In a live dialogue, spoken speech allows for questions and answers, but with books, what’s written is written. Also, a book can’t defend itself. If someone argues against it, a live person can respond, but a book can’t. Then there’s the famous legend Socrates tells about an Egyptian king—whose name I can’t recall—and a god, whose name I also don’t remember. The point of the story is that if you give students wisdom but not truth, then what you’re really doing is giving them a tool for memory, not for learning. You give them the appearance of wisdom, not the real thing. The terrible trait of writing, according to Socrates, is that its offspring—written words—look like living thoughts, but if you ask them something, they will only repeat what’s already written. In contrast, spoken language is the living pulse of thought. I’m paraphrasing, of course; this isn’t word-for-word from Plato. But the idea is that speech, when combined with understanding, is written into the soul of the learner and can defend itself. And here I’ll go further and interpret Socrates’ idea through Plato’s words: he’s speaking of inner speech—a kind of internal reasoned conversation one has within themselves. These are powerful arguments, no doubt.

Now, my counterarguments: with spoken language, we can only speak to a limited number of people. We can’t speak with Socrates now. We can’t speak with Plato. We can’t speak with Kant or Spinoza or millions of others beyond our reach. We can only talk to people within arm’s length or, now, via messengers. But even then, written language allows us to communicate with people who have recorded their thoughts in texts. We can speak with the dead through their books. We can speak with people who live far away because we can read their books, messages, or social media posts. Writing allows a vast expansion of communication that’s simply impossible with speech alone.

Let me emphasize again: the core idea of our channel is to think together. And I believe collaborative thinking is possible both in speech—what we do when we constantly invite guests to our channel—and in writing, when we read books, messages, or correspond with colleagues. So I’m not trying to argue against Socrates on the merits of spoken word. I simply claim that these are two complementary tools of communication. Denying writing is as wrong as denying speech. That’s my remote answer to Socrates. Pardon the audacity.

Morality as a Market Factor Link to heading

Question from Pavel—this isn’t the first, I believe it’s the third or fourth on the same topic. So, Pavel asks: Igor, your belief in morality as a market factor is astonishing. It’s not even about whether every large fortune is based on crime, or that there’s no crime a capitalist won’t commit for 200% profit. That’s too general. I won’t even cite the axiom from the law of economics that property rights always arise from appropriation or theft. What interests me more is the well-known anecdote about Bernard Shaw and a duchess: the duchess was willing to compromise her morals for a million, but was outraged when offered £5. Do you agree that when morality has a price, it ceases to be morality? And if morality isn’t bought or sold, then it can’t be a market factor.

You know, dear Pavel, our conversation is kind of going in circles and gradually losing meaning, because you’re not really presenting new arguments. Instead of analysis or facts, you’re citing anecdotes and old communist myths. As for the Bernard Shaw and duchess anecdote—well, I’ll leave that without comment, since it’s just that, an anecdote.

As for those old communist myths, like Proudhon’s famous claim that “property is theft”—even Marx and Lenin refuted that. Yes, there are bandits. These are myths of bandit capitalism, the fairy tale about how one can account for everything except the first million. Sure, there are pirates who accumulated wealth through piracy and later became entrepreneurs. There are also bandits from the 1990s, and modern ones too, who steal property. Bandit capitalism is flourishing in Russia right now—that’s true.

But normal, functioning market relations do not involve banditry as a means of acquiring property. That’s just a fact. As for the rather absurd statement that if morality has a price, it ceases to be morality—and that if morality can’t be bought or sold, it can’t be a market factor—well, I honestly don’t know how to respond to that. It’s a strange notion, because law isn’t bought or sold either, yet it’s certainly a market factor. There are economic laws and regulations—tariffs, tax codes, etc.—and they are market factors, even though they aren’t bought and sold.

So I don’t know, it seems like you have a very peculiar view of the world, where everyone’s a bandit hiding around the corner with an axe, ready to steal property. Yes, such countries exist. But the general principle is: where morality actually functions as morality—where trust, reputation, and ethical norms are built into the social system—those countries experience economic growth, prosperity, and capital accumulation. Where those things are absent, you get ruins.

Just look at places like Somalia or similar nations. Ruins. Haiti is another clear example—no institutional or moral foundations—and what do you have? Ruins. So your examples actually prove the opposite: that where your described system dominates, poverty and collapse are the result.

On Cultural Code Link to heading

Question from Vadim: Igor Aleksandrovich, you used to be repeatedly asked about the supposed genetic servility of the Russian people. You denied it—and it’s hard to argue with that. In the latest episode of Mediafrenia, you said that servility—the inclination to bow to authority regardless of its social or political nature—is driven by the cultural code of Russians. Recalling Chekhov and Saltykov-Shchedrin, it’s also hard to disagree. Could you explain what you meant by “cultural code”? How does it differ from the inheritance of traits? How does such a negative cultural code arise and how is it passed down from generation to generation?

So, look, this isn’t an especially complicated issue. Each of us is born into a world we didn’t create, right? We’re dropped into the cabbage patch by the stork, so to speak—and we didn’t grow that cabbage. In other words, we end up in circumstances that were created by others, in conditions inherited from previous generations. And from those generations come dozens of normative systems that constrain our behavior—dozens of systems that dictate how we’re supposed to behave in society. These include law, morality, myths, traditions, customs, religion, and so on. Dozens of normative systems that teach us what is considered proper behavior. And these systems weren’t created by us—they’re passed down from generation to generation, and we reproduce them.

These normative systems shape our attitude toward authority. I just had a sort of remote debate with Pavel about attitudes toward property—whether there’s a cultural habit of treating property as theft, or whether law should be respected, or whether one should live by the law of the jungle. Should you respect your superiors only? Should you live by the principle “I’m the boss, you’re an idiot; you’re the boss, I’m an idiot”? All of that is reproduced through the normative systems we’re thrown into without our consent, systems created by our predecessors. That’s how it works.

And this Russian system—that assumes the boss is always right and that you must submit slavishly to authority—is not about principles like “trust no one, fear nothing, ask for nothing.” In the Russian tradition, sorry for the bluntness, it’s considered shameful to report something that requires the authorities’ attention. “Snitching” is taboo—it’s the prison-yard code. But anyone who ends up in the West—in the U.S., in Europe—knows that reporting a potential violation to the authorities or the police is absolutely normal. I’ve experienced this myself. When I arrived here and was working around the clock with my lights on constantly, residents in the neighboring building called the police because they thought something was wrong—maybe I had died. The police came, asked questions, I explained that this was my work schedule—they politely and calmly left. I can guarantee you that in Russia, there are many cases where a person dies and lies there for days, and only the smell forces anyone to notice. That’s a feature—this arises from the reproduction of social norms. That’s how it works.

On the Value of Life for an Atheist Link to heading

Yulia, Yesterday in the morning stream there was a question about the value of human life. You’ve repeatedly said that those who offer an afterlife are like offering crutches that many don’t need. My question is: but isn’t the afterlife more often a guarantee of bliss? Note that religious figures threaten eternal torment in hell. The threats to sinners are so severe that it actually makes one want to throw away those crutches. Don’t you think that an agnostic or atheist and a religious fanatic could essentially be equated—as in a plus and minus? I mean, heaven and hell cancel each other out to zero. And our choice is ultimately a matter of preference, like choosing a color palette—or the dull gray of final death, versus a riot of colors in eternity. I’m not sure if my question is clear.

Dear Yulia, your question is clear. But the discussion was actually about something else. The issue was a very simple one—posed by someone named NATO, I believe—a subscriber who asked whether, if I am an atheist or agnostic, that means human life is less valuable to me than it is to a believer. And I answered very simply: for an atheist—or an agnostic—the value of human life lies in life itself, in this earthly life. Because I’m convinced that the life I am living, the life each of us is living, is the only life we get. There will be no other.

So, you see, if you have only one life, then its value is far greater than if you believe, as some do, that there is a backup afterlife. Yes, that afterlife might be valuable and even appealing—but its existence diminishes the urgency and singularity of this life. It’s like in a video game: if you have extra lives, then the current one doesn’t feel quite so precious. You might take more risks or live it less deliberately—because you’ve got another one in reserve. That seems to me to be a straightforward idea.

All this talk that faith somehow adds value to this life—I disagree. The value of this life becomes immense when you understand that it’s the only one you have. That, in my view, is the agnostic or atheist perspective. The believer’s perspective often becomes: “Well, this life? Whatever. I’ve got another one coming.” So I think the distinction is quite clear.

Is Mystical Knowledge Possible? Link to heading

Question from Robert—very long, so I’ll try to shorten it. How do you explain the existence of various spiritual and mystical practices that claim to open doors to subtle realms—occult teachings, theosophy, anthroposophy, and other doctrines? Is there anything behind it all, or is it purely psychological? Why did such ideas captivate the minds of brilliant creators and attract so many followers? Is mystical knowledge possible in any real sense? For example, Sam Harris—an absolute atheist and neurophysiologist—writes in The End of Faith some very unexpected things about meditation, dissolution of the ego, mystical experience as rational, entering a non-ordinary state of mind that opens new perspectives. He claims that ancient philosophy, especially before monotheism, didn’t explore what’s found in Buddhism, which developed along a different path and accumulated insights about the mind unknown to the West. Then a bunch of other things I’ll skip—it’s too long. According to Harris, we should try to put mystical knowledge on scientific footing, using ancient Buddhist experience and modern neuroscience. What are your thoughts on this, dear colleague?

I think—and here I’m quite certain—that such discussions of “rational mystical knowledge” or “placing mystical knowledge on scientific footing” are contradictions in terms, like “fried ice” or “wooden iron.” These are things that are simply impossible. Either you’re talking about mystical knowledge, which is by nature irrational, or you’re talking about science. That’s the whole point of mysticism—it’s irrational. So all attempts to merge science and religion, or science and mysticism, are absurd. Science is based on rational knowledge, on evidence, on experiment, on testable hypotheses, and on strict logical justification. Induction, deduction, analysis, synthesis—where is there room for mysticism in that?

Now, regarding Buddhism and all that you mention: take India, the classic case. We talked about it earlier. For thousands of years, it was a relatively backward country. Buddhism did not give rise to a serious foundation for scientific discovery. It simply didn’t. Today, India is developing and becoming a modern country—but that’s due to Western civilization and the technologies created not by mysticism or Buddhism, but by rational thought.

Just give me a single example of a scientific discovery or technology that arose from Buddhism—or Christianity, or any religious system. You won’t find one. All discoveries and all technologies are based solely on scientific, rational thinking. That’s it. I’ve encountered many attempts to reconcile faith and science—they always end in utopia, in a dead end.

Where Are Scientists Leaving America For? Link to heading

Lyudmila Putina I’m curious—where are people leaving America for?

Well, that’s a very simple question. The destinations and migration paths are well known: primarily Europe and Canada. There was a claim floating around that only scientists working in gender studies and similar fields are leaving—pardon me, but that’s absolute nonsense. Just look at how much NASA’s core space research funding has been cut in favor of Elon Musk—because Musk is interested in monopolizing space exploration in the U.S., while government programs are being slashed.

Where do the scientists go? These aren’t gender theorists—they’re mathematicians, physicists, and others from the hard sciences. These fields are being defunded because smart people are no longer wanted. This is a kind of philosophical steamship moment, updated for today’s version of ideological purging, led by Trump’s new Red Guards. Trump despises universities not only or even primarily because of gender programs or leftist ideas—but because intelligent people are simply unwanted. California, for example—the state that votes against Trump—is also home to Silicon Valley. Trump doesn’t need Silicon Valley. He needs simpler folks, the kind he can easily string along.

Does the author justify Russians? Link to heading

What about Lyudmila Rybalkenko? Should Russian citizens stop buying anything in stores and survive on fresh air?

Is that it? Lyudmila, as I understand, is quoting my position.

Here, says Lyudmila, you have aligned yourself with the opinion of the majority of Russians—not quite rabid fascists. We do not approve of what is happening. But what can we do in Putin’s Russia? If we protest, the outcomes are limited. Prison or the grave? And, having calmed themselves with such reasoning, they continue to work in military factories, supply the army with everything it needs, and even go to war themselves or at least remain loyal to those participating in the war. That’s how the war goes on. And it’s all of Russia that is waging war with Ukraine. Putin alone, with his generals, wouldn’t get far. Even though there are ways to help Ukraine or at least not to help Putin—there’s no need to list them. There are plenty of examples. Especially since there aren’t enough prisons or prison guards for all 100 million.

You know, dear Lyudmila, this is very typical. You see, hatred blinds—it’s understandable. It’s understandable that when bombs are falling on your head every day, and you, as I understand, are from Ukraine, or perhaps support Ukraine, or are a Ukrainian citizen somewhere outside of it—it doesn’t matter. And I fully understand the hatred that blinds you. But you’re talking nonsense. Since the conversation has taken this tone, let’s be clear: you are talking complete nonsense. Tell me, please, how do residents of occupied territories manage not to buy any goods in stores? Citizens of Ukraine, residents of occupied regions. Do they show some ability to help Ukraine? Do they demonstrate some form of effective resistance? Do they manage not to buy goods in stores and survive on fresh air? No, it’s impossible. What you’re demanding—what you’re writing—is utter nonsense.

Yes, indeed, in Russia and in the occupied territories, Ukrainian citizens are resisting. As a result, they are dying—heroically dying. That’s true. Effective resistance, yes, perhaps guerrilla warfare is possible, but that’s impossible under a totalitarian dictatorship. So you’re proposing they survive on fresh air. Well, yes, they can. They can starve to death, they can go to prison in protest. That’s also possible. There are heroic examples of that. There are thousands in Russia. They can emigrate. That’s a million already. But the majority can’t do this. So yes, many, I stress again, are fighting. Not just Putin. Russia is fighting now. That’s true. But your argument—that there are opportunities, that there are enough examples—is nonsense. I made a very simple point: Should Russian citizens not buy anything in stores and survive on fresh air? Of course not. Of course not. That’s absurd. Starving to spite Putin is foolish. So you—you’re arguing with an open door. And with a thesis that, in this case, isn’t even present. There’s a very simple point. I gave this argument when there was a discussion that buying something in a store supports the Russian economy. Well, yes, of course, that’s true. But not buying anything in Russian stores while living in Russia is impossible. It’s a very simple question. A simple statement. You’re trying to argue with it and build some kind of concept on it. I emphasize again, this in no way denies the historical responsibility of the entire Russian population for this war. Collective responsibility—yes, it exists. And each of us bears this collective responsibility.

About Fyodor Krasheninnikov Link to heading

A gloomy little donkey. He starts his question with a quote—quotation marks open. I just want to clarify the structure of the question—quotation marks open. Personally, I think Zelensky’s career will end soon and badly. All the hopes placed on him and his promises will turn into a disappointment of unprecedented scale in modern Ukrainian history. Quotation marks close. This post is from a Telegram channel—not Simonyan’s, not Medvedev’s, not Volodin’s. These are the words of one Fyodor Krasheninnikov, one of the leaders of Navalny’s party. The question is: you often call not overt Putinists, but anti-Ukrainians, representatives of the mythical “party of native blood.” But what if there’s no so-called “party of native blood” at all? What if we’re giving a last chance to people who once seemed decent, when in fact we’re just dealing with a more insidious, better-disguised enemy—hiding behind the mask of liberals and pacifists? By this same logic—what about Simonyan, Volodin, VENEDIKTOV, and even Medvedev? Aren’t they also representatives of the “party of native blood,” the party of Putin’s war against Ukraine? They just have different methods and arenas for expressing themselves. But they’re all on the same side. They all have the same goal. And if one of the leaders of the party—in this case, the FBK—openly voices an anti-Ukrainian position, and the party shows zero reaction, does not censure or expel him, am I right to assume that this position is supported by the entire party? I can’t find any other explanation.

Well, first, a few clarifications. Some things need to be, as they say, put on the shelf. First of all, I checked—this is a case where the quote is accurate. That quote does appear in Krasheninnikov’s Telegram channel. So that part is correct. Second, Krasheninnikov is not a member of any Navalny party. In fact, he’s not a member of any party at all. When he was a student, he was a member of Zhirinovsky’s party, but later he did join another, democratic party. He has always supported Navalny—that’s true—but he’s not a party member. So any kind of expulsion or dismissal is not possible. I’m just clarifying that.

Now the next point: yes, he has indeed always supported the FBK. He’s very active. He’s always been on Navalny’s side. He’s from Yekaterinburg, just like Volkov, as far as I know—they’re one team. He was involved in developing the “cloud democracy” project with Volkov, as far as I understand. So yes, he’s a strong pro-Navalny figure. That’s true.

Now regarding the “party of native blood.” Yes—and I’ll circle back to Krasheninnikov—I also think this is indeed a fairly clear and explicit anti-Ukrainian position. I agree with that.

As for the “party of native blood,” I coined that term when debating—remotely, of course—with members of Yabloko, specifically with S. Yavlinsky and others who took the position that people like us, from abroad, are trying to stoke the war, demanding the West fight to the last Ukrainian, and so on. That’s nonsense, of course. But in response to that term, I said that they are the representatives of the “party of native blood.”

What distinguishes the “party of native blood,” in my view, from people like Solovyov, Simonyan, Volodin, and so on? Well, the “party of native blood” members at least claim to be in opposition to Putin. They say they are against the war. They have been against the war from the very beginning. Unlike Simonyan, Volodin, etc., who supported the war from day one, people like Shlosberg, Yavlinsky, and even Krasheninnikov opposed it from the start. So don’t rewrite history just because you dislike someone. All these people I call the “party of native blood” are, almost without exception, in opposition to the Putin regime. And they are not agents. The same Krasheninnikov is—well, I’m not sure, but almost certainly not an agent, just like Shlosberg. So you can’t equate them entirely.

Yes, definitely, at this point, people like Yavlinsky and Shlosberg have basically become part of the Putin regime’s support apparatus. But we still can’t erase all distinctions.

As for Krasheninnikov, yes, he consistently takes positions that can be called “party of native blood” positions. And once again, this position largely aligns with the views of those currently leading the FBK. So in that sense, it’s all accurate. But he’s not a member of any party, and that must be clarified.

Why is Azerbaijan participating in Victory Day despite the plane incident? Link to heading

Question from Vera. I have a question—why is the President of Azerbaijan planning to take part in Victory Day if he won’t be standing on the tribune with the others? What’s the reason? Has the plane crash near Aktau just been forgotten? After all, Russia never apologized. And how will the Azerbaijani people react to this?

The fact is, yes, there hasn’t been any official apology from Putin. He expressed regret, but no apology followed. But I just want to say that over time, Russia has done some work aimed at smoothing over—excuse me for the slightly crude term—at smoothing over this conflict. The point is that in March, in mid-March, a delegation led by Matviyenko was sent to Azerbaijan, and negotiations were held there—there was a lot of flattery toward Aliyev. Then several symbolic gestures followed. The Russian authorities allowed and organized the laying of the first stone for a monument depicting the former President of Azerbaijan, Heydar Aliyev, the father of the current Azerbaijani leader. This monument is located next to the Azerbaijani embassy in Moscow. After that, Putin ceremoniously awarded the speaker of the Azerbaijani Milli Majlis the Order of Friendship. So that was another conciliatory gesture, so to speak. In addition, as far as I know, discussions are currently underway regarding compensation. So Putin isn’t exactly going down on his knees before Aliyev, but he is trying to resolve the matter differently—mostly behind the scenes. That includes Matviyenko’s visit, the foundation stone for the Heydar Aliyev monument, and the compensation issue. I think he’s trying to settle the matter with money. Also, there was a report on Azerbaijani television—I read about it too—showing a Russian TV segment about Heydar Aliyev’s special contribution to the construction of the Baikal–Amur Mainline. And so on. So there is an ongoing PR effort to defuse the conflict.

Are they hiding the truth from Putin? Link to heading

So, a question from a subscriber with the name “zад и рот.” I’m writing a book, and I’m really interested in exploring the personality of someone like Putin. Are you sure that he actually receives reports in his folder about things like a shaman wanting to perform a ritual on Red Square, or the number of soldiers killed in the war? Don’t get me wrong—I despise him. But from a researcher’s perspective, he’s surrounded himself with the most vile, incompetent people. They’re sycophants, they’re cowardly, they’re afraid to tell him the full truth. That could be the case, right? So, as I understand it, the question is whether the truth is being hidden from Putin.

No, I think some things are reported to him, but they’re interpreted differently. Naturally, you understand, dear colleague, I don’t know to what extent the distortion goes. I haven’t looked into those folders, of course, but I think the main events are reported to him, yes? The interpretation, however, is most likely the kind that creates an illusory view of reality. A vivid example is the kind of information that distorts the situation in Ukraine, which led him to commit that fantastically foolish act—a crime, but also a blunder—on February 24, 2022. As for the actual contents of those folders, I don’t know. It’s an assumption, a hypothesis.

Why doesn’t Putin personally torture his enemies? Link to heading

And the second question from the same author. Take Lukashenko, for example. Unlike Putin, he’s actually interested in what’s going on. And I’m sure he keeps track of the nasty things said about him in the liberal media. Do you think Putin could, like Lukashenko, personally confront someone who insulted him—say, a hypothetical Protasevich—and look him in the eye, try to torture him, punch him in the face? Of course, the guy would be in a dungeon, shackled to a chair by a heavy escort. But these people don’t have the guts for more than that. Or is Putin too weak for that? In your opinion, why wouldn’t Putin do such a thing? Cowardice, contempt, disgust, being too busy—or would he actually do it?

You know, Putin has a fairly extensive background, first in the KGB and later in the FSB—well, mostly in the KGB, since he served in the FSB already as a leader. So his actual field experience comes from the KGB. And I think he’s actually better than Lukashenko at dealing with detainees. I believe he’s more skilled than Lukashenko when it comes to interrogations, recruitment, and so on. It’s just that he doesn’t need to do it himself now—others do it for him. Why would he bother? He calmly watched from a distance while his underlings killed Navalny. He calmly watched from a distance while his underlings killed Nemtsov. Why would he do it himself? I think, in this case, it’s pretty straightforward—he has different methods. And it’s obvious that he has the skills for such actions—much more so than Lukashenko.

On Solzhenitsyn and “Obrazovanshchina” Link to heading

Irina. In your May 1st stream, you talked about Solzhenitsyn’s article “Obrazovantsy”

Actually, it’s “Obrazovanshchina,” if I’m not mistaken—that’s the title of the article.

It seemed to me that the idea in the article is actually true. But you said that over time you’ve come to view Solzhenitsyn’s work from a different angle. But regarding this particular article, your opinion hasn’t changed.

You know, my opinion of Solzhenitsyn’s work changed as a result of several events that made me see everything in a completely different light. I was, like many of my like-minded peers, under the influence of the general wave of admiration for Solzhenitsyn back in the 1980s—that was the perception then. There were two symbols of a free Russia: Solzhenitsyn and Sakharov. Or Sakharov and Solzhenitsyn. There was a certain contradiction between them, one that was evident even in their texts, statements, and speeches. That contradiction wasn’t emphasized at the time—the internal polemics within the dissident movement hadn’t yet been made public, nor had a number of significant publications that seriously criticized Solzhenitsyn. That just wasn’t emphasized much in the 1980s.

For me, the very critical view of Solzhenitsyn arose from two main things. First, the article Two Hundred Years Together—which is openly, openly anti-Semitic. That was a shock for me. And second, his return to Russia. My attitude toward Solzhenitsyn changed drastically when I saw him for the first time, just a few meters away, when he came to the State Duma and gave a speech. I was sitting quite close to the podium, and like many others, I was expecting some kind of revelation—but instead I heard a dull, empty, uninspired speech. That made me think. After that, I began to read more attentively. I won’t say I studied him in depth, but I did start reconsidering my view of the man.

Then came Two Hundred Years Together. And then his alignment—he was very harsh toward Yeltsin, refusing to accept an award from him, but gladly accepted one from Putin. His open support for Putin is another reason I radically changed my view of Solzhenitsyn, which is now sharply critical.

As for the article Obrazovanshchina, I find it rather superficial. It doesn’t take into account the fact that in today’s world, higher education has become widespread—and therefore, to some extent, it has lost those qualities of conscience, empathy, and so on. It’s a mass profession, a mass condition of people. So I think this kind of opposition between the intelligentsia and people with higher education has the right to exist, but I feel the article doesn’t acknowledge the objective process that’s led to higher education becoming a mass phenomenon. That’s important. That said, yes, the term is good, and a lot in the article is fair. But my view of Solzhenitsyn didn’t change because of this article. It was Two Hundred Years Together and his sycophantic support of Putin.

How the author supports himself internally Link to heading

Question from Yulia After the broadcast with Kirill Nabutov, I was left with this amazing feeling that a person can still retain such a sharp sensitivity to tragedy even after three years. You really revealed Kirill Nabutov to me all over again.

Well, I’m glad I was able to do at least something.

And for you personally, what is the main reason that keeps you going? When you’re tired, when the news is bad? What do you say to yourself that makes it all worth the effort and the risks?

Dear Yulia, you know, I actually consider myself a more or less normal person. And when I have what you might call inner conversations with myself, there’s absolutely no pathos involved. Yes, I sometimes turn on the pathos when I’m hosting a stream or having discussions with experts. Sure, sometimes it’s needed. But in internal dialogues, there’s no pathos at all. Those inner conversations are full of self-irony. They’re self-critical, and that’s about it. No lofty words, nothing like that—I definitely don’t tell myself grand things.

I do hope I have enough self-irony and a strong enough critical sense not to rely on special kinds of words. As for strength and risk—listen, I fully understand that I’m not on the front lines. But still, I believe—okay, here comes the pathos, but not for myself—I really do consider myself part of an information war. That’s just a fact. If it weren’t so, I’d be doing something completely different.

Chernomyrdin, Nemtsov, and Kasyanov—and the hunting incident Link to heading

Alexander Kalko. My question is this: you once said you had a negative view of Chernomyrdin because of his desire to kill animals while hunting. But Nemtsov and Kasyanov were also avid hunters. Nemtsov even bragged about hunting together with Yeltsin. According to media reports, Kasyanov was asked not to shoot a pregnant moose while hunting—but he shot her anyway. What do you know about this? And what is your view of Nemtsov and Kasyanov, knowing that they greatly enjoyed shooting animals and birds?

First of all, dear Alexander, you’ve seriously distorted my words. I never said I had a negative attitude toward Chernomyrdin. I didn’t express a negative view of him. The famous story of Chernomyrdin killing bear cubs did indeed cast a shadow over my perception of him. So let’s take this step by step.

First: my attitude toward people, like everyone else’s—I hope—is shaped by many factors. Yes, some people fixate on one thing, and that becomes the deciding factor for them. That’s not the case with me. My view of people is formed by many elements, including—undoubtedly—their attitude toward animals. The fact that someone is a hunter, that they kill animals without extreme necessity—without a life-or-death need for food—is, for me, clearly a negative factor.

Does that mean I automatically have a negative view of all hunters? No. But the fact that someone is a hunter lowers my opinion of them. So my opinion of Chernomyrdin certainly dropped from what it could have been, because he killed animals.

As for Nemtsov and Kasyanov—I honestly hadn’t focused much on the fact that they were hunters. That detail, let’s say, slipped my attention. But yes, if I evaluate it now—of course. I do regard someone who kills animals less positively than someone who doesn’t. So, yes, my opinion of Nemtsov and Kasyanov is somewhat lowered because of this, but it doesn’t become outright negative.

There are bigger factors that shape the overall view—key things that determine my final attitude. And I do not have a negative view of Chernomyrdin. Where did you get that from? My opinion of him is lowered because he killed animals—just as my opinion of Nemtsov, who is certainly viewed much more positively than Chernomyrdin (since Nemtsov was an open opponent of the Putin regime, unlike Chernomyrdin), also includes this negative aspect.

But once again, I emphasize: it’s one factor, one piece of a person’s character. It matters to me, yes—it lowers my opinion—but it doesn’t define an overall negative stance.

Should Ukraine Bomb the Victory Day Parade? Link to heading

Elena from the UN, what is your personal opinion—should Ukraine, in response to the ceasefire announced by Putin on Victory Day, launch a drone strike on Moscow on the 8th and 9th and disrupt the parade? I believe it’s entirely Ukraine’s right to respond like that to the regular bombings of Ukrainian cities. What is your opinion as a political analyst?

Well, I don’t know, whether I’m a political analyst or not, but I can answer your question with a kind of two-tiered response, alright? First of all, yes, it can absolutely be seen as Ukraine’s full right. In general, I try not to advise Ukrainians on what they should or shouldn’t do. It is their full right, but. But what if? Let’s do a thought experiment. Imagine the parade is happening on May 9th. On the stands sit representatives of foreign states, leaders, heads of state, some World War II veterans. Not many, but there are some. Among them is Xi Jinping. And then you carry out a strike—Ukraine carries out a strike on Red Square—kills WWII veterans, kills Xi Jinping, kills Fico, and some other people. What do you think? Just think about the consequences. Just think about the consequences. What would the global reaction to Ukraine be? What would it be? And what would the response be? Can you rule out a nuclear strike that could blow Kyiv and other Ukrainian cities to hell? Can you guarantee that? I can’t. Do you think the international community—whose support Ukraine now critically depends on—would respond positively to the killing of foreign leaders? I think that would be madness and stupidity. I am absolutely convinced that yes, one can believe that Ukraine has the right. But having a right and knowing when and how to use it—that takes wisdom. And I am absolutely convinced, 100%, that Ukraine’s military and political leadership will not allow such foolishness. Indeed, one may have the right, but one must also understand when and how to use it.

On the Term “Pro-Ukrainian” Link to heading

Nadya Volgina. One well-known political analyst, co-author of the book “Arrangement of the PRB, a Beautiful Russia of the Future,” accused Mark Feygin of boosting his channel’s ratings by making it pro-Ukrainian. In my view, the accusation is absurd and stems from the fact that Mark no longer invites this analyst on his channel. Later, the analyst explained that a pro-Ukrainian channel is one that says what the majority wants to hear. Like, populism. Please give your definition—what is a pro-Ukrainian channel or pro-Ukrainian position? It’s surprising that it’s not enough just to be anti-Putin, you also have to fit into the right anti-war crowd.

Well? Dear Nadya, as for me? Well, first of all, I don’t know who that political analyst is. Honestly, I don’t. Maybe it’s Krasheninnikov, maybe someone else. But for me, the question is very simple. You see, the current situation, the current orientation in the political world is, under wartime conditions, very straightforward. You have to take a side—who are you for in this war? The main event happening right now is the war. So who are you for in this war? Are you for Russia or for Ukraine? And it doesn’t matter how you feel about Putin—if you say you’re for Russia, then you’re pro-Russian. If you say you’re for Ukraine, then you’re pro-Ukrainian. That’s it. And beyond that, this division—those are the trenches, that’s the very front line in the information war that clearly defines which side you’re on. And you can’t be on both sides of the front. It’s simply impossible. It doesn’t work that way. So you’re either for Russia or for Ukraine. That’s all. A pro-Ukrainian channel is one that is for Ukraine in this war. Period. When the war ends, we’ll sort it out from there. But right now—pro-Ukrainian. My channel is also pro-Ukrainian. And that’s not because of populism, because actually populism can exist on the other side too. You don’t have to say pro-Ukraine things to be populist—you can be populist with another position, too, yes. And there are million-subscriber channels that are absolutely not pro-Ukrainian, but quite the opposite. So populism has nothing to do with it. My channel is far from a million-subscriber one, as you know. It’s pro-Ukrainian for a very simple reason: because I have clearly chosen a side in this war—I choose Ukraine’s side, I choose the defeat of Russia in this war. That’s all. That is what a pro-Ukrainian channel is.

Fascism in Hungary, Slovakia, and Romania – Consequences of the Lack of Lustration and Denazification Link to heading

Yakov Yakov is a sponsor of our channel. And the question is, Hungary, Slovakia, and Romania were on the side of fascist Germany during World War II. Could today’s support for right-wing populist leaders in these countries be a distant consequence of that fact?

Yes, I agree with you. I think that unlike Poland, unlike the Czech Republic, unlike Germany—even in Hungary, Slovakia, and Romania—there was no thorough lustration, no real denazification. And that has had an effect. Distant consequences. Yes, I think they exist.

On Alexander Minkin Link to heading

Nadezhda Kotik. Nadezhda is also a sponsor of our channel, for which we thank her very much. I’d like to hear your opinion on Alexander Minkin. I listened to his remarks on a stream and was outraged. I’m from Ukraine—he’s being pelted with arrows and stones. Some people praise him, saying it’s humane, magnanimous. The thing is, he tearfully sympathizes with residents of the Kursk region, who had a hard time during the temporary occupation. They sat in basements. No toilets, not enough water. Oh, they could’ve caught dysentery! And all of this so emotionally delivered—it’s disgusting. He didn’t even think to mention Ukrainians. The ones in the same basements, under rubble, next to the dead. I won’t list our horrors—they’re well known, aren’t they? Minkin didn’t say a word. He only feels sorry for his own. Which he admits. He says directly: You don’t sympathize with earthquake victims somewhere in Malaysia, do you? Horrifying! The host tried to steer the conversation toward Ukraine—who the real victims are—but it was in vain. Did you hear this broadcast? What do you think?

I didn’t hear that broadcast, but I don’t need to in order to express my opinion on Minkin. Well, the argument about earthquake victims in Malaysia—you know, I think it’s a completely false argument. Because none of us is responsible for or even indirectly connected to the earthquake in Malaysia. But the attitude toward the killing of Ukrainians—Minkin has a direct connection, because he is a resident and citizen of Russia. And it is our country, with Minkin included, that committed an act of aggression. Our country didn’t cause the Malaysian earthquake. So Minkin is simply using a completely false argument.

Now, my opinion. I haven’t seen this stream. I think you’ve likely described everything accurately. But my opinion about Minkin was formed a long time ago and is firmly held. Minkin’s main professional base has always been Moskovsky Komsomolets. And in Moskovsky Komsomolets, Minkin functioned as a “drainpipe.” His writings—he’s undoubtedly a fairly talented publicist, a well-read person, he used to be a theater critic—that’s why he’s very good at putting words into sentences and commanding language. That he does well. But he used this talent to work for the “office,” so to speak. He always built his fame mainly as a publicist by leaking certain materials from the security services. His pieces often read like direct transcripts—for example, surveillance transcripts—with just “Minkin” signed underneath. That’s a leak, kompromat, pure drainpipe journalism.

My final opinion of Minkin was formed when I served as General Secretary of the Union of Journalists of Russia. I had to maintain relationships with many journalists regardless of their stance—it was necessary in that role. But I had a direct clash with Minkin at one of the forums. We were discussing journalism, and I expressed a very critical opinion about Moskovsky Komsomolets and its editor-in-chief, calling Gusev the chief “information pimp” of Russia. I think many Russians in the audience will know what kind of ads used to run in Moskovsky Komsomolets. About 60% of the ads were private announcements—ads for prostitutes, brothels, escorts. “Hot girls” and so on. Basically, it was prostitution advertising. So Moskovsky Komsomolets was, in effect, the country’s biggest informational pimp.

When I explained why I thought this was wrong, Minkin responded by saying: “What’s the big deal? These ads are true. What’s written there is accurate.” I tried to explain to Minkin that Russian society has a certain tradition—there’s often compassion toward prostitutes (just look at Kuprin, Tolstoy, Dostoevsky). But attitudes toward pimps have always been unequivocal—negative. So Moskovsky Komsomolets, which profits from that, evokes revulsion. There was a bit of a scandal. This all happened at a forum with hundreds of journalists from all over the country. Poptsov tried to mediate somehow. But that was the atmosphere.

So Minkin couldn’t have failed to understand the nonsense he was spouting. But he always diligently defended his boss, Pavel Gusev. Another well-known episode was described by Shenderovich in his book—when Shenderovich ran for the State Duma, Minkin published an exposé on him just before the election. Dug up some kompromat, etc. When I asked him about it, I said—look, if you had this info, why now? Were you just storing it all this time and suddenly thought, “I can’t stay silent anymore”? Obviously, it was a pre-election hit piece. Shenderovich lost. Instead, the Putinist Govorukhin was elected. So Minkin was carrying out a political order. He’s a drainpipe. A man who always backed his boss, Gusev. And I think I don’t need to explain who Gusev is—you can’t even find a clean spot on him. That’s all I have to say about Minkin.

Are Evil and Talent Compatible? Link to heading

A question from Sasha. We have many examples before our eyes of talented people who, upon cooperating with evil, suddenly—as if by magic—lose their talent. There are many examples, but to me the most striking are two. First, Sergey Lukyanenko. One can debate his abilities, but I believe he was quite talented in the 2000s. His piece Dancing on the Snow is, in my personal ranking, not far below the Strugatskys. In 2014, Lukyanenko took an openly pro-Putin position. Since then and to this day, he hasn’t produced anything worthwhile. Second is Sergey Shnurov. His talent is beyond doubt. But the story is roughly the same. He sided with evil. His once bold and mischievous songs became flat and dull. So the question is—where, exactly, does talent go? Where does talent go when its bearer begins to cooperate with evil?

You know, there’s a very beautiful idea—but while beautiful, it’s not universal. The idea that genius and villainy are incompatible. It’s lovely, but it’s not true. They are compatible, and your examples aren’t universal. Let me give some counterexamples. Leni Riefenstahl—talented? Very. She allied herself with evil, served it—did she lose her talent? No, she didn’t. Sergei Eisenstein—talented? Some even say he was a genius. He made a deal with Lenin, served evil, and how! But did he lose his talent? No, he didn’t.

Now, let’s analyze. To truly serve evil without losing your talent, you must believe in it—and not consider it evil. Then, you don’t lose your talent. In the case of Shnurov and Lukyanenko, I think they just made a deal with evil for personal gain. Riefenstahl and Eisenstein believed in what they were doing. They didn’t see it as evil. Evil has to be seductive. Putinism is not seductive. It has no attractive packaging, no compelling idea. It buys people—just like it buys cannon fodder, it also buys its propaganda servants. And those creative people who serve Putinism—they’re just selling themselves.

In contrast, with the Soviet system, there was a real idea—communism, which captured half the world. It wasn’t about money; it was about ideology. A very old, almost primal idea: justice. Fascism, too—while a less attractive idea—still captured minds, and in some places still does. So both systems had ideology. Putinism has none—just money. And when you sell yourself for money, yes, you do kill your talent. But when you believe in a false idea—your talent can survive.

Why Doesn’t the World Notice the Suffering of Ukrainians? Link to heading

Another question from Lyudmyla Rubio Panchenko. Do you really consider this a great moral progress of humanity? That all countries and peoples are quite content with their peaceful and relatively comfortable existence at the cost of Ukrainian lives? All of Putin’s malice and power is spent on Ukraine—there’s not enough left for others. While the populations not only of Europe but also of Russia live in peace and rejoice that there’s no world war—everything is fine for them, except for a few inconveniences. Prices have gone up a little, some had to relocate, and so on. But for us, this war is as if it were a world war. It’s here. We have no rear, no safe place to hide, and a universal indifference around us. Passionate speeches are made, generous promises given, some programs adopted, summits held. Some express sympathy in words, others demand money and resources—hurrying to profit from our tragedy. Empathy flows, and now and then we get some metal that shoots. Oh yes, let the Ukrainians keep Putin from entering prosperous Europe—but they won’t give us air defense systems, so civilians continue dying in our cities. Europe and America are not threatened, not concerned. That’s why they not only don’t want to spend on air defense—they won’t even sell it. What kind of morality is this? There is no degradation? Is this the flourishing of humanism and humanity?

Well, this is another question from the same author, and it’s clear—just from the question itself—that the person is in Ukraine. The emotional state is completely understandable. But let’s break it down. First of all, yes—air defense is provided, though not enough. That’s true. Second, aid is being given—that’s also true. What next?

You see, we’re looking at the world now through Ukrainian eyes. For us, Ukraine is the central event. War is the central event. But to reduce the entire course of world history and the development of humanity solely to this war, to the tragedy now befalling the Ukrainian people—that’s a mistake. That’s a mistake.

Now, most importantly—about this so-called universal indifference. Let me ask you—what do you know about the so-called Second Congo War? It also has another name: the Great African War. Do you know anything about it? It lasted from 1998 to 2003. Five years—about the same duration as the current Russian war against Ukraine. I want to tell you: that was a far, far worse war than the one now ongoing in Ukraine. That war in the Congo led to the deaths of about 5.5 million people—many more than have died in Ukraine. It was the bloodiest and deadliest war in the world since World War II.

Tell me—how many people in Ukraine, between 1998 and 2003, suffered, grieved, paid attention to that? I can tell you—in Russia, no one. In Ukraine—also no one. I know that for certain. You see? This is how the world works. It’s not some special attitude toward Ukraine. This indifference—it’s the global condition, unfortunately. Yes, empathy and humanism are growing, but they have not yet reached the level where people feel every tragedy on the planet as their own. And maybe they won’t in the near future.

When Minkin gave that utterly false example about people dying in an earthquake—I’ve already explained why that’s false. Because we’re not responsible for an earthquake. But we do have a duty to empathize with Ukrainians—because we attacked. We are complicit.

But as for this sweeping judgment our colleague Lyudmyla Romenchenko makes about humanity—it’s only partially fair. And the problem isn’t just Ukraine. I repeat—look at the Great African War. Many more people died. So yes, we’re looking at the world through Ukrainian eyes. But to reduce all of history to the war in Ukraine is a mistake. And to ignore the real progress the world has made over millennia just because things are terrible now in Ukraine—that, too, is a mistake.

There have been much darker times. And overall, there is movement—slow but real—toward greater humanism. It exists, and it’s not going away. Ukraine—yes, Ukraine and the suffering of the Ukrainian people right now—this is not the end of history. Just as World War I and World War II were not the end of history. And they didn’t stop humanity’s movement toward greater compassion. Yes, it’s a halting movement, with serious setbacks. We’re in a setback now—no doubt. We’re in a rollback. You’re right about that. But to miss the forest for the trees—that’s a mistake.

Which country ranks first in press freedom? Link to heading

Natalya Safronov. Igor Alexandrovich, which country ranks first in press freedom? That would be interesting to know.

It’s been, I think, about 10 years. Norway—about 10 years, Norway. In general, these northern countries, the Scandinavian countries, they… they are in the lead. Now Estonia, I think, has also managed to wedge in there somewhere, but Norway consistently holds first place.

Is the Victory Day parade a legitimate military target? Link to heading

Olga. You mentioned the inadvisability of Ukraine attempting to strike the Victory Day parade on May 9. Let’s say, theoretically, it’s possible. What do you mean? Were you referring to humanitarian and political aspects? Since the parade will be attended by leaders of some foreign states? Or perhaps to an inadequately harsh response from Moscow in the form of a nuclear strike on Ukraine? A concentration of military equipment on enemy territory is a legitimate target during wartime. So why shouldn’t Ukraine test its policy in this case? Especially with the developments Zelensky mentioned. After all, Putin had no qualms when he tested his “little nut” over the peaceful city of Dnipro.

I thought I had answered that question. I believe I did answer that question. The idea of striking Red Square and killing some number of civilians, citizens who are, so to speak, including war veterans and foreign heads of state—this idea is, of course, very tempting, but I hope, I am 1,000% sure, that Ukraine’s military and political leadership has not gone insane.

Why discuss the situation at the front? Link to heading

Is that so? Viktor Katz Mr. Yakovenko, I have a question for you. What’s the point of discussing the situation at the front? What does it change? I don’t watch and I don’t recommend others do either. We should just help the Armed Forces of Ukraine, not dig into what’s going on. I actually stopped listening to Leviev after four or five times, and to Michael about a year ago. Well, as I understand it, the question isn’t about Leviev or Michael, but about the fact that there’s no point in discussing the situation at the front.

Dear Viktor, may I ask you—what’s the point in discussing any news at all, you see? Is there any point in journalism? Why bother? Just help, right? But how do you know you need to help Ukraine? How do you know how to help Ukraine? Maybe there’s no need anymore? Maybe we’ve already won? You see, this question is broader. Why follow any news at all? What’s the point? What difference does it make? People are naturally curious about what’s happening in the world to find their bearings. Why, for instance, follow news about the conflict between India and Pakistan—it’s far away. But how do you build your life strategy without information? How do you make decisions when you don’t know what’s going on? Why listen to the news, say—well, I don’t want to… Dear Viktor, I don’t mean to offend you, but Soviet leaders thought the same way when they withheld information about the Chernobyl disaster. Why? Why should people know? They don’t need to know. And as a result, people didn’t take safety measures because they didn’t have information. As a result, tens or hundreds of thousands were exposed to radiation. It’s the same here. People follow the situation at the front because they want to know what’s happening. That’s a normal human instinct. It’s called the orienting reflex. People want information to live their lives properly. That’s all. Of course, you can live without information entirely, live in the forest, pray to a wheel, and have no information at all. By the way, I don’t understand why you single out only the information about the front. In that case, we should shut down all newspapers, all radio, television, and the internet. Then where—where will you get the idea that you should help Ukraine?

Modern slavery and injustice Link to heading

Arkady Mikhailov You said that slavery no longer exists. What about it? The population of Russia is not in slavery de facto? Take me as an example—I did quite a lot for the country. First as a locksmith at a factory, then as an excavator setup engineer, and continuously for about 40 years. I had a beggarly pension.

Dear Arkady! When we talk about slavery today, we’re using a metaphor, but still, there is no actual slavery, because no one sold you, no one forced you to work—you could have changed jobs. It’s not slavery; what we really have is an unjust social system. That I agree with. But it’s definitely not slavery. Even the form of slavery that existed in the Soviet Union, which ended in 1974 when passports began to be issued to collective farmers, was only a kind of slavery analog—not the real thing—because even then, collective farmers weren’t sold or separated from their families, etc. Yes, it was somewhat analogous to serfdom—that’s a fair comparison—but today that absolutely doesn’t exist. Yes, it’s unfair. Yes, the pension is beggarly. But no one is selling you, separating you from your family, or forcing you to work as a locksmith or to set up excavators. So yes, it’s very bad—but still not slavery.

Closing remarks Link to heading

That seems to be all. Why am I going on so long? Because I wasn’t able to answer all the questions yesterday. So today, as they say, we’re dealing with the aftermath. Dear friends, this concludes our morning stream. Unfortunately, I can’t say for sure what our evening stream will be, because I still haven’t received confirmation from Oreshkin. But in any case, we’ll definitely come up with something. So, that’s the end of the morning stream. Glory to Ukraine! Please take care of yourselves. Freedom to Aleksandr Skobov! Darya Kozyreva! To all Russian political prisoners and Ukrainian captives! See you soon! See you in the evening! Goodbye.

Source: https://youtu.be/ZIgZUhP2WXQ