The EU leadership are "lunatics". Russia will ensure that Ukraine "disappears from the map" in the near future. Welcome to another week as seen through the eyes of Dmitry Medvedev, Russia's former president and prime minister, who is serving as deputy head of the Russia's security council.
Medvedev has been on quite a political journey. Back in 2008, when he became Russia's president, he promised modernisation and liberalisation, and frequently spoke of his love for blogging and gadgets. Now, he is an enthusiastic participant in the macho posturing and genocidal rhetoric that have become the main currency of political discourse in wartime Moscow.
"I'm often asked why my Telegram posts are so harsh," wrote Medvedev recently. "Well, I'll answer: I hate them. They are bastards and degenerates. They want us, Russia, to die. And while I'm still alive, I will do everything to make them disappear." He did not specify whether the "they" in question referred to Ukrainians, western politicians, or both.
His physical transformation is as extraordinary as his ideological shift: a decade ago he was boyish, nerdy and seemed almost charmingly awkward wearing a suit and conducting the business of state. Now he looks jaded and puffy-faced, his eyes glazed over as he launches tirades against the west.
Medvedev's rebooted persona is an apparent attempt to retain political relevance in a climate that has darkened significantly in the decade since he left the presidency.
"He's trying to save himself from political oblivion by out-Heroding Herod," said Ekaterina Schulmann, a Russian political scientist at the Robert Bosch Academy in Berlin.
Maria Pevchikh, an associate of the imprisoned Russian opposition politician Alexei Navalny, interpreted Medvedev's shift in more personal terms: "When you feel you are a pointless and pathetic person, like Dmitry Medvedev, you try to reinvent yourself from time to time... he decided to reinvent himself as a hawk."
While Medvedev's reincarnation has largely been treated as cringeworthy, it is also symbolic of the dashed hopes of a decade ago, when some people believed the system constructed under Vladimir Putin might be capable of carrying out some kind of liberalisation.
In 2008 Putin stepped aside, because the constitution at that point only allowed two four-year terms. He moved out of the Kremlin to become prime minister, and chose Medvedev, with whom he had worked since 2000, as his successor.
"Someone with ideas would probably have got rid of Putin pretty quickly, and Putin didn't want to risk that. Medvedev fit the bill as a dependent person. He tried to fit in with consensus, just as he is trying to fit in now," said Gleb Pavlovsky, who spent more than a decade as a Kremlin adviser.
But although Medvedev was clearly subordinate to Putin, he cut a very different figure to the former KGB man. He talked of his love for rock music and excitedly spoke about the possibilities of the internet, actively tweeting and blogging. Putin, in contrast, does not know how to use the internet. Medvedev also bemoaned the lack of judicial independence in Russia and made several sweeping statements that suggested he backed real reform.
Russian liberals were divided on whether Medvedev had a chance of becoming a real politician with his own agenda.
In time, Medvedev also won a constituency among part of the Kremlin elite, who hoped they could ensure him a second presidential term in which he would slowly reduce the influence of the hardline former KGB agents in government.
Medvedev became fixated on the idea of a second term, those who knew him say. On occasion he even clashed with Putin in public, notably when Medvedev authorised a Russian abstention on a UN vote over intervention in Libya.
But when Putin su...
Medvedev has been on quite a political journey. Back in 2008, when he became Russia's president, he promised modernisation and liberalisation, and frequently spoke of his love for blogging and gadgets. Now, he is an enthusiastic participant in the macho posturing and genocidal rhetoric that have become the main currency of political discourse in wartime Moscow.
"I'm often asked why my Telegram posts are so harsh," wrote Medvedev recently. "Well, I'll answer: I hate them. They are bastards and degenerates. They want us, Russia, to die. And while I'm still alive, I will do everything to make them disappear." He did not specify whether the "they" in question referred to Ukrainians, western politicians, or both.
His physical transformation is as extraordinary as his ideological shift: a decade ago he was boyish, nerdy and seemed almost charmingly awkward wearing a suit and conducting the business of state. Now he looks jaded and puffy-faced, his eyes glazed over as he launches tirades against the west.
Medvedev's rebooted persona is an apparent attempt to retain political relevance in a climate that has darkened significantly in the decade since he left the presidency.
"He's trying to save himself from political oblivion by out-Heroding Herod," said Ekaterina Schulmann, a Russian political scientist at the Robert Bosch Academy in Berlin.
Maria Pevchikh, an associate of the imprisoned Russian opposition politician Alexei Navalny, interpreted Medvedev's shift in more personal terms: "When you feel you are a pointless and pathetic person, like Dmitry Medvedev, you try to reinvent yourself from time to time... he decided to reinvent himself as a hawk."
While Medvedev's reincarnation has largely been treated as cringeworthy, it is also symbolic of the dashed hopes of a decade ago, when some people believed the system constructed under Vladimir Putin might be capable of carrying out some kind of liberalisation.
In 2008 Putin stepped aside, because the constitution at that point only allowed two four-year terms. He moved out of the Kremlin to become prime minister, and chose Medvedev, with whom he had worked since 2000, as his successor.
"Someone with ideas would probably have got rid of Putin pretty quickly, and Putin didn't want to risk that. Medvedev fit the bill as a dependent person. He tried to fit in with consensus, just as he is trying to fit in now," said Gleb Pavlovsky, who spent more than a decade as a Kremlin adviser.
But although Medvedev was clearly subordinate to Putin, he cut a very different figure to the former KGB man. He talked of his love for rock music and excitedly spoke about the possibilities of the internet, actively tweeting and blogging. Putin, in contrast, does not know how to use the internet. Medvedev also bemoaned the lack of judicial independence in Russia and made several sweeping statements that suggested he backed real reform.
Russian liberals were divided on whether Medvedev had a chance of becoming a real politician with his own agenda.
In time, Medvedev also won a constituency among part of the Kremlin elite, who hoped they could ensure him a second presidential term in which he would slowly reduce the influence of the hardline former KGB agents in government.
Medvedev became fixated on the idea of a second term, those who knew him say. On occasion he even clashed with Putin in public, notably when Medvedev authorised a Russian abstention on a UN vote over intervention in Libya.
But when Putin su...
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The Guardian Weekly (Digital) - 1 Issue, August 05, 2022