As this column reflected on Mikhail Gorbachev, Sergei Filatov, who served as Yeltsin’s private secretary, lay in Moscow, and the obituaries for this public intellectual did not flatter him. He openly challenged the deceased, asking what could be hidden. Those who died recalled the hardship, hunger, and political chaos of the 1990s, a period still debated in hushed tones.
Very few offered counterpoints: yes, there were flaws, but there were positives too. Free trade, open media, cooperation, private property, and room for discussion were cited. Even the most romantic reviews sometimes boiled down to lists—freedom, rallies, competition, collaboration—and then judgment followed.
From a contemporary viewpoint, something felt off while reading such takes, and those doubts resurfaced in 2007 when Yeltsin’s passing was marked. There, too, the narrative shifted quickly: difficulties existed, yet cooperation and new opportunities followed; a sense that life would improve persisted, even as a market began to stabilize and drive commerce forward. Voices heard in the UK and Europe amplified the sense of a skewed memory.
For days, dramatic films played by Russians—figures not named here—painted Boris Yeltsin as a symbol of democracy who delivered competition, cooperation, and freedom. This raised questions about the arrogance or blindness of those who attributed to him virtues that felt borrowed from others.
Yet the achievements of Gorbachev are often highlighted as catalysts: the first competitive elections, the first democratically elected parliament, and the embrace of cooperatives that tied shop workers with researchers, producing goods for the free market. Gorbachev enabled a stage where clean potatoes could reach stores and private property was proclaimed, a landmark change despite the turmoil that followed. The USSR’s property law, enacted in 1990, remains a touchstone in debates about economic reform.
Speaking from the vantage point of someone who grew up in the 1990s, it is surprising how quickly people forget who authored the property rights, publicity rights, and the door opened to entrepreneurship. As money moved to new schemes and speculative ventures, the claim that Yeltsin alone created the market persisted, even as others warned that the liberal current would reshape the political landscape dramatically. The timeline shows May 26, 1988 as the law on cooperative activity, March 6, 1990 as the property law, and 1987 as the early push for broader public access. Even as censorship waned, literature slowly returned to libraries, and 1989 brought a freer press, again, with caveats about oligarchy and criminal influence.
How should one judge the politicians who guided the era? In the 1996 elections, some voters supported Yeltsin precisely because they believed he would deliver a free market, while others saw Gorbachev as the originator of a different path. The liberal intelligentsia, by mid-decade, often praised Yeltsin while acknowledging Gorbachev’s role in shaping the opening moments of reform. The debate about who saved the country versus who destabilized it remains a point of contention to this day, with both leaders credited and blamed in turns.
Mikhail Gorbachev is portrayed by many as a leader who left a complicated legacy, yet his long life afforded him the chance to witness how perceptions of his actions shifted over time. The narrative has sometimes swapped blame and praise, attributing outcomes to others, and memory can distort what really happened in the moment. In the decades after his tenure, the public’s understanding of his decisions—such as the handling of the Baltic independence and the proposed federal union—remained contested among scholars and observers alike, who weigh ideals against practical consequences. Attribution in historical memory often speaks more to current concerns than to past facts, and this dynamic is evident in discussions about Yeltsin as well.
Gorbachev’s pursuit of international engagement and reforms, including measures taken at the state level, did not prevent later national upheavals. He faced limits, including the challenge of keeping the union intact while offering greater sovereignty to the republics. Yeltsin’s approach differed—favoring the rapid expansion of sovereignty and market mechanisms—yet both paths intersected in a volatile transition, with consequences that are still debated today. The question of who bore primary responsibility for the outcomes is rarely settled in one sentence; it is a tapestry of policies, personalities, and unforeseen events.
It is clear that Gorbachev played a crucial role in shaping the broader arc of reform, even as others later claimed the dominant credit. The narrative that he was solely responsible for all the missteps or, conversely, that all gains belonged to him fails to capture the complexity of the era. The truth rests somewhere between the extremes, acknowledging both misjudgment and the courage to pursue change, often under conditions of enormous pressure.
Ultimately, the story of Gorbachev invites reflection on memory itself—how histories are written and revised, sometimes to satisfy present needs. He lived to witness how his era was remembered and distorted, and the reality of his contributions remains a point of ongoing discussion among historians, policy-makers, and the public. The narrative continues to evolve as new perspectives emerge and new evidence is weighed with the past in mind.
Notes from this examination suggest that the post-Soviet experience was shaped by more than a single leader or a single moment. The era’s events, from reform to upheaval, involved many actors whose actions together defined the transition. The legacy is not simply a verdict on one man but a complex record of choices that altered the course of a nation and left a lasting imprint on the region. Attribution, then, should be careful, nuanced, and anchored in a wide range of sources and viewpoints.
Citation note: This synthesis draws on historical analyses and contemporary commentaries that place Gorbachev and Yeltsin within the broader dynamics of late Soviet and early post-Soviet reform. Perspectives may vary among scholars, and readers are encouraged to consult multiple sources for a rounded view.