Human memory is a strange thing. It can forget the price of bread from last week, yet some gunshots echo forever.
Eleven years ago, on the Bolshoy Moskvoretsky Bridge near the Kremlin, Boris
#Nemtsov was shot dead. A few steps from the Kremlin. A few meters from power. And the world understood that in Russia, the distance between criticism and a bullet can be absurdly short.
Nemtsov was not a saint. But he believed his country could be normal. That the state should not frighten its own citizens. That corruption is not destiny. That
#Europe is not the enemy. And for that belief, he paid with his life.
We are fortunate. Our
#politics has not yet taken the same path. Even though we recklessly normalize populists, xenophobes, and loud admirers of Russian rhetoric in public life, bullets are not falling on our bridges. That is not a given. It is the result of institutions, public pressure, and memory.
But the distance between the coarsening of words and the coarsening of actions is not infinite.
#History shows that the normalization of aggressive language is often only a prelude to aggressive acts.
#Russia did not become an enemy because of television tirades or the statements of propagandists like Vladimir Solovyov. It became one when silencing replaced dialogue and fear replaced the rule of law. When the bridge near the Kremlin became a symbol that power no longer feels accountable to anyone.
The memory of Boris Nemtsov is not only a Russian story. It is a warning.
#Freedom is not lost all at once. It disappears in small, excused steps.
That is why we must remember that bridge. Not out of sentiment. But out of responsibility.