Two Final Scenarios For Modern Russia

A "tight lid" and a "ventilated lid".

If to turn down all the intermediate stages, Russia has actually two "last stations". It's, of course, an interesting question, in how many junctions, switches and semi-stations it will reach them, but it doesn't play a special role in strategic calculations. To explain this clearly, we can, as in an old Jewish joke, model the future of Putin's Russia on the example of a jar of barmy canned tomatoes. Such a jar has two fates: either it will explode from within due to internal tension, or it will rot and be sent to the garbage dump by an irresistible external force. By analogy with the rotten jar, modern Russia also has two final scenarios (I am omitting the intermediate stages, which can last for a long time): like the USSR and like Nazi Germany.

The Soviet scenario is a tight lid. The tighter a jar of tinned food is screwed on, the harder it is to know when the complex chemical processes inside it reach critical points. Obviously, you can judge that something is going on by the increased number of bubbles behind the glass, or by the bloated lid. But it is almost impossible to understand in advance which of the jars will explode and when. As a result, as a rule, we learn about the fact that "the process has started" only post factum following a characteristic "chpok" in the shelf and when something sticky is dripping on our heads from the ceiling. Those observing the process from the outside have no chance to predict even approximately the moment when this jar will burst from the inside. And, by the way, it is not necessarily connected with the moment when the main tomato in the jar will rot - it may happen earlier or later. One way or another, we are doomed to a surprise: yesterday it was still there, flaunting its sticker with the quality mark, and today we are picking up chips in gloves. It has never happened before - and here it is again, as the unforgettable Viktor Chernomyrdin would say. In fact, this is how we woke up one morning to find that the Soviet empire had freaked out.

The German scenario is a ventilated lid. Although, there is a way to prolong the pleasure. You can make a hole in the lid and vent the generated hydrogen sulphide into the outside world through the "war hole", keeping the pressure inside the can constant, optimal for rotting. German Nazism followed this path, but went too far. Here the question, as always, is the patience of the neighbours. It is possible, of course, to count on that they, wrinkling their noses, will be tolerating the outrage. But it can't go on like this indefinitely. Eventually, they will be forced to unite against the "bad flat" to break down the door, get into the shelf, find the stinking jar and throw it on the garbage dump of history. Don't count on endless patience, the degree of the stink does matter after all. This should be kept in mind by the authors of D.M.'s posts and V.P.'s speeches, between which I don't see any serious contradictions - when playing psychos, it is important not to become absorbed in playing.

However, there is also an ambush here. In order not to become absorbed in playing, it is necessary to control the hole and from time to time to cover it with a fig leaf of peacefulness. However, as soon as the hole is covered, the internal pressure created by the products of rotting will begin to grow, and there will be a threat of the Soviet scenario. That means that it will be necessary to make new holes of war again and again. That is, every alley is a dead end for the jar. Unless you put it in the Mausoleum, in the formalin solution.

Vladimir Pastukhov, Telegram