Russia is a fascinating country – Churchill, in typically quotable
style, called it a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma.
Those of us who remember the Cold War perhaps put too much of its
difference down to Communism, but while a number of the Countries of
the Warsaw Pact have integrated into the EU and the “European”
consensus - Russia remains apart. We stand at a moment when Francis
Fukuyama’s “End of History” has never
seemed more foolhardy.
Bullough
focuses his exploration of Russia through an exploration of the life
of one man, Father Dmitry. He travels, and the descriptions of those
travels are vivid and engaging – even if the content is long hours
on cold buses.
There
is an Orwellian tragedy about Father Dmitry – for so long a Saint,
but then broken by the State – recanting and capitulating –
ending his days a bitter and troubled soul. It is a narrative worthy
of Dostoevsky. That
light that shone so bright was crushed, that one who showed such
strength could be defeated, is horrific – if the State is stronger
than even Father Dmitry then perhaps all resistance is futile.
The
blurb on the back of the book says “Bullough shows that in a
country so willing to crush its citizens, there is also courage,
resilience and flickering glimmers of hope.”. Perhaps it is
reading with the knowledge of the events of the last 5 years since
this book was published – but I struggled to see the hope and I
can’t recall reading, for all Bullough’s skill as a writer, such
a depressing book.
