“It Happens. What Can You Do?”
Nothing testifies so tragically to the limits of Vladimir Putin’s transcontinental power than the death of his favored ward of the state, That Inmate.
It does lift one’s heart to know Putin tried to save him. How he tried! We know he tried, because he told us he failed. Putin hates to fail. Worse than failing is having to admit failure, especially when you’re Russia’s potentate. Such admissions might shake the confidence of all Russia, the land Putin was charged to protect. But Putin found, to his elation, that his people had chosen him once again — by a tsunami majority — to continue serving as their nonesuch patriarch of Mother Russia! Humbled by the undisputed universal acclaim, Putin found the courage to impart to the mighty Russian people his gravest sorrow: his failure to prevent the death of his favorite prisoner, That Inmate.1 Yes, he said, heartbroken, What can you do? Things happen. It was an astounding admission coming from the man who works day and night to control that great country. Yet even this saint of a patriarch could not save That Gentleman.
But consider the challenges Putin faced.
Putin knew That Gentleman posed a mortal danger to the country, going around to all the towns and villages threatening to destroy the very foundation of Russia’s strength and independence: its democratic elections. Savvy Russian patriots were aware and deeply indignant. Imagine, someone like that trying to topple Mother Russia’s beloved papa! Naturally, they wanted to stop it. But, uncomfortable as it was, Putin’s duty was to protect all his cherished Russian subjects. That meant protecting That Gentleman as well. Careful to conceal efforts that would surely wound his loyal defenders, Putin kept track of The Gentleman to make sure no true-blooded Russian visited harm on him.
Adept, powerful, committed — and clever — though he was, Putin could not hold back the flood of animosity that had grown towards The Upstart throughout the country.
Sadly, the mighty Putin was only human, though an unusual one: a man who refreshed his anatomy by taking vigorous icy plunges into Arctic seas on Orthodox Epiphany; a contender who lay flat whole teams of hockey players with his slippery swirls, twirls, and lunges on the ice despite being clad in ice hockey paraphernalia that swelled his already prodigious physical dimensions to the size and shape of an industrial freezer; a simple comrade who slammed opponents mercilessly to the karate mat with one chop to wise them up as to how much tougher they must get to face a foe such as Mother Russia’s papa. Yet, adept, powerful, committed — and clever — though he was, Putin could not hold back the flood of animosity that had grown towards The Upstart throughout the country.
For example, Putin could not prevent someone from getting through all his meticulous safeguards to spray corrosive green dye in The Upstart’s face, nearly blinding him in one eye. How was Putin to foresee such passion? Then someone came along — although it is not really clear how this happened — and sort of interfered with The Upstart’s metabolism on an airplane with a substance that Western so-called experts said only the Kremlin could produce. That ingenious attack only proved how loyal Putin’s citizens were, willing to go to any length to neutralize an arch enemy like The Upstart, even to the point of implicating the Kremlin. They dared to do this, of course, because they felt so strongly that the Kremlin itself should be undertaking such actions to rid their country of this danger. But Putin continued to refuse. He would protect The Upstart as he protected all his people, coddle him, if need be, to make sure he stayed safe.
Putin did all he could to stand between The Inmate and harm.
Soon citizen disapproval waxed so vehement that Putin had no choice but to put The Upstart in one of Russia’s wonderfully strong prisons and slap on all sorts of sentences so staunch Russians would not guess Putin had put The Upstart away to keep him safe — from them! But that landed Putin in another pickle. Zealous Russian patriots worked in the prisons, too. Putin’s job was now to rein in the patriotic fervor of his own handpicked prison guards, who were right up close and cozy with Putin’s pet. And another question arose, a tricky one: How could Putin, with a clear conscience, betray the loyalties of his truest subjects in his secret attempt to prevent them from harming The Inmate, who was, no question about it, a danger to all Russia? Could not such interference on Putin’s part be construed as traitorous? It was a difficult spot for the potentate to be in. Caution was the order of the day.
Patriotism be damned, Putin did all he could to stand between The Inmate and harm. The instant he got reports that loyal prison guards were waking The Inmate nights every 45 minutes to make sure he hadn’t escaped, Putin put a stop to it, sternly rebuking those responsible. Then he learned they were forcing The Inmate up and out into the frigid Arctic air for predawn walks. This grieved the potentate sorely, but he couldn’t have all the prisoners go out during the bracing Arctic noon to enjoy their walk, could he? It wouldn’t be sanitary.
Then Putin found out The Inmate was being served two mugs of boiling water twice a day, which was fine. That followed exactly the humanitarian rules of the prison to give prisoners sufficient pure liquids each day. But The Inmate complained he was not given enough time to let the boiling liquid cool to drink it. That was unfortunate, because pauses for eating were strictly regulated for all Russian prisons. Putin couldn’t step in and make exceptions for one slowpoke. Then word had it that The Inmate was grumbling about getting mealy bread mushy with slugs and maggot eggs for his single daily meal. But was that complaint or praise? Putin wondered. The composition — prison caviar — assured an extravagance of fresh protein, a bonus the wised-up appreciated, and in time, so would The Inmate.
Alas, that time was not granted. Putin had recognized that he could not restrain each and every Russian patriot from getting to The Convict. Even with The Convict stowed away in a secret, high-security Russian prison way up there above the Arctic Circle, the risk was too great of someone breaking through and finally doing justice as he saw it in defense of Mother Russia and his patriarch. Realizing this, Putin eagerly assented when someone suggested The Convict be exchanged for someone else, anybody else. “Before he even finished his sentence, I said I agree!” Putin declared. Yes, the potentate meant that even before The Convict finished his latest 19-year sentence he would let him go. Generous indeed.
For the good of the country and The Convict himself, That Convict had to go. Putin agreed to the exchange.
We all appreciate and respect Putin’s reluctance to allow Russians whom the West has imprisoned for murder to return to Mother Russia. While it’s true that most of those wily culprits do get away, one had been caught shooting someone in the head — twice — in a park in Berlin. That was a nasty thing to do and such a person is a no-good, and if the West can nab such people and put them away, bully for them! Putin was all for it. So it’s clear Putin would find it highly distasteful to approve the release of a proven assassin — though a Russian citizen — from a Western prison. And yet, wonder of wonders, he did. And why? To save The Convict. Yes, Putin consented to have an odious piece of human flesh that had been securely locked up in a Western jail, yes, that very assassin convicted for shooting someone in the head (twice) in a Berlin park, then trying to get away — imagine! — on a bicycle, and why? Because it gave Mother Russia’s honored patriarch the opportunity to relieve his beloved country of too grave a threat to its peace and well-being: The Convict. For the good of the country and The Convict himself, That Convict had to go. Putin agreed to the exchange.
How great was Putin’s distress to learn that The Convict succumbed just days before the exchange to purely natural causes — cold, malnutrition, severe gastrointestinal disorders, exhaustion, thirst, and exposure — very natural causes of death indeed. Nevertheless, Putin would never forgive himself. The only solace he could drudge up to assuage his grief was the age-old wisdom “What happens happens.” He was also somewhat relieved to know that all of Russia probably wouldn’t mind. They had, after all, just picked him, just him — no stupid Upstart, who was dead now anyway — to be their patriarch probably forever.
- Aleksei Navalny died in an Arctic prison February 16, 2024. Putin was elected for a fifth term by a majority of 87% on March 17. It was then that Putin first spoke of Navalny’s death, deeming it an “unfortunate incident.” ↩︎