Serge Schmemann writes:

It is hard to feel sorry for Russia today, when its army is savaging Ukraine. But for those of us who were in Moscow on that August morning in 1991 when a warm sun rose over people massed outside the “White House,” the embattled seat of the Russian government, and we realized that the tanks were not coming, that the coup had failed, that the Soviet yoke had been lifted, it’s also hard to escape a deep sense of grief that Russia has come full circle.

Russia’s potential is being set back by decades; the young, educated and creative are leaving; and the hard men are ascendant. Once again, Russia has become a pariah spreading lies and death.

Even back then, amid the elation of witnessing a victory over tyranny, those of us covering the demise of the Soviet empire knew that its dismemberment would not be quick or pretty. But it didn’t have to come to this.

In the weeks since Mr. Putin’s brutal and unprovoked invasion of Ukraine, the reactions within Russia have been muffled. Many foreign correspondents, including those from The Times, have left Russia, and anyone who says anything publicly that contradicts the falsehoods put out by the Kremlin about the “special military operation” faces the threat of up to 15 years in prison for spreading “false information.” (The Soviet-style contraction for the invasion is “spetz operatsiya.”)

I have been reaching out to friends who are still in Russia. Most were understandably cautious about talking to a journalist online, but their pain and sense of helplessness were tangible. One spoke of acute “shame and bitterness” among students and staff at a graduate school when word spread that the invasion had begun. “Nobody, nobody anticipated that he would ever do this,” my friend said. “We had ridiculed the reports in your newspaper that an invasion was imminent.” [Continue reading…]