THE RUSSIAN EVOLUTION
WHEN NIKITA KHRUSHCHEV died in 1971, I was still
a young girl, but I remember him well. We used to visit him on the
weekends on his farm at Petrovo Dalnee, about 30 miles outside of
Moscow. I'd work with him among the tomatoes or at his beehives.
Although to me he was just my kindly old great-grandfather, my family
assured me then and later that he was a great man, a world leader, a
liberator — someone I should be proud of.
[. . .]
There's an old saying that "every nation deserves its government." I hope that's not true. I believe my great-grandfather gave Russia its first taste of freedom over fear. And I hope that one day Russians will be able to embrace that freedom without yearning for the old days of totalitarianism and terror.
There's an old saying that "every nation deserves its government." I hope that's not true. I believe my great-grandfather gave Russia its first taste of freedom over fear. And I hope that one day Russians will be able to embrace that freedom without yearning for the old days of totalitarianism and terror.