She stands as a compact, graceful woman whose presence radiates vitality and resolve. In a quiet cafe near London’s Victoria station, she discusses a difficult chapter of recent history with candor that stops the room. The conversation touches on Western voices that urge reconciliation with Vladimir Putin and on the painful years following her husband Aleksandr Litvinenko’s poisoning in 2006. She describes herself as content and at peace, even as the shadow of a tragedy that ended his life lingers. Nearly two decades have passed, yet the name Sasha—his familiar Russian nickname—continues to surface in conversations and memory.
How do you evaluate the political situation in Russia today? Is the regime strong?
What can be observed now is the culmination of the trajectory that has defined the last two decades under Putin. Even amid assassinations, arrests, and a harsh clampdown on democratic dissent, the West has persisted in dialogue, sometimes turning a blind eye to what the leadership has done. The current conflict reveals a character and strategy that have been visible for years. A deeper look into Soviet-era history can make the present seem more comforting than it is, a trap for those who misread the past to excuse the present. Sanctions arrived late and lacked the immediate sting needed to derail the war’s momentum. The economy shows signs of strain, like a ship steering toward an iceberg, and there is a growing sense within the leadership that a rift with the West is inevitable. While the regime endures, the long-term risk is a structural unraveling, a crisis of legitimacy that could intensify as the conflict stretches on.
Do you think the West is always late to Putin?
There is a pattern of hesitation. Weapons are supplied and sanctions imposed, yet some energy relationships remain intact, enabling a partial lifeline for Moscow. It is not only the fear of economic collapse that matters; it is the political will to sustain a war economy that plays a decisive role. Some countries continue to rely heavily on Russian energy, taking actions that indirectly support the war effort. Trade routes through neighboring regions complicate the picture, masking the true costs of sanctions for ordinary people. The human toll in Ukraine is matched by the burden borne by Russians themselves, who are drawn into a prolonged conflict. The choice to support Ukraine is not simply a political stance; it reflects a belief in national sovereignty and a commitment to uphold international norms. The path forward requires steadfast resolve from Western allies, even as the costs of supporting Ukraine are debated at home and abroad, for the sake of national interest and the truth about what is happening on the ground.
How do you evaluate the situation within the regime?
There is a perception, sometimes voiced by those close to the center of power, that criticizing events from abroad threatens the regime. A proverb about nearness and distance seems apt here: looking at something from afar can reveal more than being up close. In this view, the country is caught in a kind of kidnapping of its own institutions, with actors acting out of fear rather than conviction. The public experience of life under the current order has become fragile. Those who once boasted about stability now face the erosion of guarantees that prosperity once promised. If one traces Putin’s career, the pattern becomes clearer: a focus on military strength and a narrative that only a strong, centralized leadership can defend the nation. The wars in Ukraine and the broader security posture have lately exposed the limits of that approach and amplified questions about the future role of the military and political leadership in deciding national policy. The friction between the military establishment and political authority underscores a deeper tension at the heart of governance under this regime.
Is it possible for a civil conflict to erupt in Russia?
Historical parallels are instructive. The dissolution of a vast empire rarely follows a single script. In times of upheaval, the street can become a stage for competing visions of sovereignty, but the army’s stance often proves decisive. If losses at the front persist and mistakes accumulate, military leaders may press for negotiations as a pragmatic exit rather than a dream of total victory. While the prospect of civil upheaval cannot be ruled out, the future remains uncertain and contingent on many factors, including international pressure, internal dissent, and the cost of continued conflict for the Russian people. In the absence of a fast, decisive resolution, the temptation for a power transition through coercive means could grow, but history also shows that popular resistance at critical moments can alter the course of events.
What will happen when the war ends and Russia faces the consequences and the crimes witnessed in neighboring Ukraine?
Looking back at the broader arc of history, the question hinges on truth and accountability. The fall of a regime is rarely followed by a comprehensive reckoning in the absence of persistent popular memory and transparent archives. In the latter years of the Soviet era, many crimes remained unaddressed, and the public was not given a full reckoning with the past. If a new era is to begin, it will require openness about the actions of past administrations, a willingness to confront difficult truths, and a durable commitment to rule of law. The path to reconciliation lies in acknowledging harm, delivering justice where possible, and building institutions capable of preventing a repeat of past atrocities. Only through that process can a society look in the mirror and honestly reckon with what occurred, while forging a future grounded in accountability and dignity.