The following essay was written on May 5, 2014, by Roman Nosikov. Its Russian original is here. As my Russian is not equal to the task, I have taken the liberty of translating it from a Serbian version, posted here. Any errors, omissions or infelicities are mine.
The world is full of calls to Russia. The world calls to Russia and her president to influence the "pro-Russian separatists" in southeast Ukraine. The international community, the Russian intelligentsia, the Ukrainian media clique, all choke on the cries reminding us of our peacefulness, our non-resistance to evil, of Leo Tolstoy and Mahatma Gandhi.
"Peace! Peace! Peace! Mercy!" is what we hear, 24 hours a day.
But at the same time, those same throats spit out threats: "Sanctions! You shall starve! We shall drive you into huts, into caves! We shall take away everything, select everyone, buy everything! We order you! We condemn you!"
And what answer do we hear? What do our colleagues hear from the Russian president? What do they hear from our people?
Silence.
Heavy, unbearable Russian silence that rests over the world like a calm before the storm.
The tears of women are shed and dry. The faces of men, recently contorted with anger and rage, are smooth again.
Silence, a sacred Russian silence has descended upon the world, against which all the calls, all the banner-waving, all the cries of "sieg-heil" and "glory-to-Ukraine" and "death-to-enemies" sound particularly pathetic and inappropriate. Like the drunken calls for "Murka" at a conservatory concert, before the performance of Rachmaninoff's Second Concerto for Piano and Orchestra.
The time for that music is gone. There won't be any rap, blues or rock-n-roll, either. They are inappropriate.
The world will hear a thundering Russian symphony.
But now, before its first notes reach for the great heart of humanity - there is silence. The Russian soul chose so, and no power in the world is capable of preventing that silence. The throats of the powerful criers will go hoarse, and the experienced orators will choke on their prepared and memorized speeches.
A silence descends.
Silence, great and powerful like a bear, descends upon the world and smothers it in its steely embrace.
They are still trying to scream, trying to stop themselves from believing that the inevitable is already happening, trying to stop the reason and understanding from reaching their hearts, trying to keep them frozen. But their cries are beginning to sound like whimpers.
The Russian soul chose so, for yet another time in history. And God agrees. And if God is with us, who can be against us?
Why are the Russians silent? Why is their president silent? Why don't they respond?
Their questions sound more and more like fear. Because they increasingly understand the correct answer.
There is no one on this planet Russia can talk to. There is no one worth talking to. There is nothing up for discussion with anyone.
So Russia is silent. And that silence is terrible.
That terrible, silent gaze sees all, understands all, leaves no opening to hypocrisy. Even the cleverest villainy cannot hide from it any more. Nor can any treason, no matter what veiled excuse it uses. Nor can any crime.
Where have we, where have they, seen this terrible gaze before?
Ah yes... the Russian icons.
That is the gaze of the Russian God.
Russian God. God is Russian?
Yes. Today, God is Russian.
And all the Heavenly Hosts are Russian today. Saint George has traded in his lance for a RPG-7.
That is the gaze of Russia. That is the gaze of God.
It is terrible, Russia's silence. Because it is Judgment.
In that silence that has descended upon the world, making noise in order to distract attention from the truth does not work anymore.
Russia is silent. And in that silence, they feverishly try to remember what their greats used to say about Russia. "A riddle, inside a mystery, wrapped in an enigma", was it?
But they know the answer. It is simple. Russia, that is God.
And if Russia is God, then "Vengeance is Mine, I will repay" (Romans, 12:19). And it is so.
In just a little bit, the universe will hear the first notes of the new Russian symphony. That symphony will tear off all the masks, clear the air and, soul by soul, rebuild the world. It will leave nothing old and rotten. It will make everything new. It will rumble like thunder, circle the world like a storm, shake the unshakable and turn to dust what seemed eternal.
But for now, a Russian silence descends upon the world.
Listen to the silence.
The world is full of calls to Russia. The world calls to Russia and her president to influence the "pro-Russian separatists" in southeast Ukraine. The international community, the Russian intelligentsia, the Ukrainian media clique, all choke on the cries reminding us of our peacefulness, our non-resistance to evil, of Leo Tolstoy and Mahatma Gandhi.
"Peace! Peace! Peace! Mercy!" is what we hear, 24 hours a day.
But at the same time, those same throats spit out threats: "Sanctions! You shall starve! We shall drive you into huts, into caves! We shall take away everything, select everyone, buy everything! We order you! We condemn you!"
And what answer do we hear? What do our colleagues hear from the Russian president? What do they hear from our people?
Silence.
Heavy, unbearable Russian silence that rests over the world like a calm before the storm.
The tears of women are shed and dry. The faces of men, recently contorted with anger and rage, are smooth again.
Silence, a sacred Russian silence has descended upon the world, against which all the calls, all the banner-waving, all the cries of "sieg-heil" and "glory-to-Ukraine" and "death-to-enemies" sound particularly pathetic and inappropriate. Like the drunken calls for "Murka" at a conservatory concert, before the performance of Rachmaninoff's Second Concerto for Piano and Orchestra.
The time for that music is gone. There won't be any rap, blues or rock-n-roll, either. They are inappropriate.
The world will hear a thundering Russian symphony.
But now, before its first notes reach for the great heart of humanity - there is silence. The Russian soul chose so, and no power in the world is capable of preventing that silence. The throats of the powerful criers will go hoarse, and the experienced orators will choke on their prepared and memorized speeches.
A silence descends.
Silence, great and powerful like a bear, descends upon the world and smothers it in its steely embrace.
They are still trying to scream, trying to stop themselves from believing that the inevitable is already happening, trying to stop the reason and understanding from reaching their hearts, trying to keep them frozen. But their cries are beginning to sound like whimpers.
The Russian soul chose so, for yet another time in history. And God agrees. And if God is with us, who can be against us?
Why are the Russians silent? Why is their president silent? Why don't they respond?
Their questions sound more and more like fear. Because they increasingly understand the correct answer.
There is no one on this planet Russia can talk to. There is no one worth talking to. There is nothing up for discussion with anyone.
So Russia is silent. And that silence is terrible.
That terrible, silent gaze sees all, understands all, leaves no opening to hypocrisy. Even the cleverest villainy cannot hide from it any more. Nor can any treason, no matter what veiled excuse it uses. Nor can any crime.
Where have we, where have they, seen this terrible gaze before?
Ah yes... the Russian icons.
That is the gaze of the Russian God.
Russian God. God is Russian?
Yes. Today, God is Russian.
And all the Heavenly Hosts are Russian today. Saint George has traded in his lance for a RPG-7.
That is the gaze of Russia. That is the gaze of God.
It is terrible, Russia's silence. Because it is Judgment.
In that silence that has descended upon the world, making noise in order to distract attention from the truth does not work anymore.
Russia is silent. And in that silence, they feverishly try to remember what their greats used to say about Russia. "A riddle, inside a mystery, wrapped in an enigma", was it?
But they know the answer. It is simple. Russia, that is God.
And if Russia is God, then "Vengeance is Mine, I will repay" (Romans, 12:19). And it is so.
In just a little bit, the universe will hear the first notes of the new Russian symphony. That symphony will tear off all the masks, clear the air and, soul by soul, rebuild the world. It will leave nothing old and rotten. It will make everything new. It will rumble like thunder, circle the world like a storm, shake the unshakable and turn to dust what seemed eternal.
But for now, a Russian silence descends upon the world.
Listen to the silence.
3 comments:
And here's what I think shall resound through the world: the last four minutes of this Russian opera.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AhnXWrNgz7c
Bulgaria is showing itself to be a puppet once again. What are your predictions over this? Will South Stream ever come to fruition?
http://alethonews.wordpress.com/2014/06/08/bulgaria-halts-russias-south-stream-gas-pipeline-project/
"Bulgaria’s prime minister, Plamen Oresharski, has ordered a halt to work on Russia’s South Stream pipeline, on the recommendation of the EU. The decision was announced after his talks with US senators."
I wish I could say I was surprised. Thing is, Bulgarians would do well to remember that siding with the most powerful thug on the block inevitably gets you in trouble when the said thug inevitably loses.
As for the underlined bit, yes, it's quite clear who really runs the EU these days. Ukraine has demonstrated that as well. Seems like the continentals have forgotten how Nuland felt about them. And never learned the lesson I just mentioned above, much like the Bulgarians.
They all think they are so clever. But this isn't a game, and it doesn't have a happy ending for people who don't pay attention.
Post a Comment