“Good Russians” and the Old Empire in New Packaging
22.05.26 09:00
The public statements of Mikhail Khodorkovsky raise an uncomfortable but necessary question: are we truly witnessing a rejection of imperial thinking, or merely an adapted version designed for a Western audience?
Europe continues to search for “good Russians” — politicians, intellectuals, and opposition figures who might one day replace Vladimir Putin and serve as proof that Russia is capable of change. Yet too often, European elites judge not the substance of these figures’ views, but the quality of their presentation. It is enough to speak more softly, appear more liberal, and condemn the war, and the temptation arises to present someone as a democratic alternative.
The problem is that a change in tone does not necessarily mean a change in political consciousness.
The public statements of Mikhail Khodorkovsky raise an uncomfortable but necessary question: are we truly witnessing a rejection of imperial thinking, or merely an adapted version designed for a Western audience?
When we hear phrases about Russia’s “special perception of security,” its “strategic depth,” and the need to take Russian fears into account, this does not sound like a new political language. It is the same language that for decades has sustained the old Russian idea that Russia possesses special interests and special rights in the space surrounding it. The faces change. The rhetoric changes. Yet the underlying structure remains strikingly familiar.
Because imperial thinking does not begin with tanks. It begins with the belief that neighboring nations do not exist as fully sovereign subjects, but rather as elements of a historical sphere of influence. That their right to make their own choices must always take into account the “objective interests” of Moscow. That the security of some states matters more than the sovereignty of others.
This is precisely how interventions, wars, and political pressure were justified for decades — not only under Putin, but long before him.
That is why these uncomfortable questions do not arise out of nowhere. Khodorkovsky’s own biography also matters here. For many, his past support for the war in Chechnya was not merely an isolated episode, but a revealing political marker. If a person once justified war in the name of preserving the state, then a simple change in tone is not enough. The natural question follows: what exactly has changed? Where did this reconsideration of views take place? At what point did the rights of the state cease to outweigh the rights of peoples to self-determination?
Because democracy is not a collection of carefully chosen words for a Western audience. Nor is it simply an anti-Putin declaration. Democracy begins where the belief in one’s historical right to determine the fate of others ends.
Yet European politics repeatedly falls into the same trap: any opponent of Putin is automatically perceived as the representative of a different Russia. But opposition to Putin alone does not make someone a bearer of democratic principles. One can oppose Putin while still believing that Russia possesses a special mission, a special status, and special rights in relation to its neighbors.
For Ukraine, the Caucasus, and many other regions, the issue has long ceased to be about the name of the person in the Kremlin. It matters far less who speaks from Moscow — Putin, a liberal, a technocrat, or a former oligarch. The real question is whether the very idea of a center that considers itself entitled to determine the fate of other nations will finally disappear.
As long as only the packaging changes while the substance remains intact, talk of a “new Russia” risks becoming merely another version of the old empire — only with a friendlier face and better English.
Isa Sadykov – Military Analyst, Norway