‘History is not written only by the victors’ International readers of Alexey Navalny’s memoir reflect on the late politician’s life and legacy

One year ago, on February 16, 2024, Russian opposition leader Alexey Navalny died in a remote Arctic prison. State investigators attributed his death to a combination of health conditions. However, the facility where he was imprisoned was notorious for its harsh treatment of inmates, and Navalny had reported multiple instances of abuse in the year leading up to his death. Additionally, Russian authorities — who had previously attempted to assassinate Navalny with the nerve agent Novichok — seized everything he touched in his final hours, including snow, according to leaked documents published by the Dossier Center.

About nine months later, in October, Navalny’s memoir, Patriot, was published. The book is divided into two parts: the first, which he began writing in Germany in 2020, traces his life from early childhood. The second consists of diaries he kept while in pre-trial detention and prison between 2021 and 2022. Alongside well-known moments — his 2018 presidential campaign, his recovery from poisoning, and his arrest upon returning to Moscow in 2021 — the book includes previously untold stories from Navalny’s childhood and youth that helped shape his worldview.

Patriot was translated into over 20 languages, including ones spoken in countries where Alexey Navalny is far from a household name. Meduza found several people from around the world who read the book and published their own reviews online, and invited them to share their impressions of the memoir and their thoughts on Navalny himself.

Intifar Chowdhury — Australia

Youth researcher and lecturer in government at Flinders University

I’m not sure the average Australian knows about Russia’s anti-corruption activist and opposition leader Alexey Navalny — but his is a story that should be told. I stumbled across his memoir, Patriot, in a Baltimore Target late last year during my travels, and, truth be told, I hadn’t heard of him before.

I don’t usually pick up posthumous memoirs from people who knew they were going to die — they’re often too sad. But the first few pages of Navalny’s prison writing gripped me. His was a darkly comedic exception — a poignant, fearless account of defiance that wasn’t just about him. His death was inevitable; his dream of a democratic Russia was bigger than that.

At times, I thought he was reckless — because why would you walk back into the lion’s den? I wouldn’t have. But his book made me realize that when you grow up in fear and uncertainty, mistreatment, torture, and even death start to feel like obstacles rather than deterrents. Navalny’s almost-mad, unwavering resistance to the world’s largest dictatorship — even after surviving a poisoning attempt in 2020 — sets him apart.

In Russia, Patriot will inspire younger generations who dream of a freer, more democratic country, at peace with its own people and the world. Beyond Russia, it should at least make people like myself pause and consider how much we take for granted the securities in our own democracies.

Alvarez Péter — Hungary

Cultural editor at INDEX magazine

Alexey Navalny is a well-known figure in Hungary as Vladimir Putin’s main political rival. I already knew quite a lot about him before the book was published, but the memoir has introduced me to a lot of new things. It has become clear to me that with Navalny gone, a new opposition and democratic politician must emerge in a Russia that deserves a better fate, held captive by corruption, mafia methods, delusions and megalomania. What struck me reading the book was how easily he made very difficult decisions, and the extent of his patriotism, which is a real rarity.

The most important thing is to fight against corrupt and autocratic power. Under all circumstances. To do this, we must draw courage from our love of our country. I believe that one day there will be a statue of Navalny in the middle of Moscow or St. Petersburg. That was my first thought when I finished reading the book.

The most important thing is that if we know we are right and we are still losing, we don’t give up. Navalny’s legacy is the trinity of courage, patriotism and perseverance. But his very important message is that we must always find the right question and the right answer when we look at a country’s problems.

Greete Kõrvits — Estonia

Senior editor of foreign news at Õhtuleht newspaper

The complicated hero

Alexey Navalny was no stranger to Estonians who viewed him clearly as the leader of the resistance against our next-door dictator. I remember my own sense of gloom upon hearing of his death — his murder — though I wasn’t surprised. His fate was tragically sealed, even if he escaped death’s claws once. This sense of impending doom follows the reader through his autobiography as well.

Patriot confirmed what I pretty much already knew and thought about him: a man with a sense of humour, a relentless quest to piss off the Kremlin, a pretty sizeable ego (not a bad thing, timid people rarely make history), and a couple views I am not sure many Estonians would agree with. And based on what I’ve read, perhaps neither would many Ukrainians. I’m not sure they’ve forgiven his words about Crimea, though he backtracked on that matter later and in the book speaks warmly of childhood summers in Ukraine. This nuance is something that many in the West don’t seem to fully understand, like when it was rumoured the White House thought to seat Navalny’s widow next to the First Lady of Ukraine during one of the State of the Union addresses (neither Mrs. Navalnaya or Mrs. Zelenska made it to the event). My personal opinion is that we can mourn a hero of the Russian resistance and acknowledge nuances at the same time. I think we have to.

Vladimir Sabourín — Bulgaria

Poet, lecturer in Ancient Literature and Spanish Literature at Veliko Tarnovo University

I live in Bulgaria, where the confrontation between “Russophiles” and “Russophobes” is historical and very sharp. Navalny is well-known within this confrontation: for one side (the so-called “Russophobes”), he is an absolute hero and martyr, while for the other side (the so-called “Russophiles”), he is a traitor on the payroll of the State Department. Navalny is so well-known that no one is indifferent when they hear the name Navalny.

Before reading Navalny’s autobiography, I watched a documentary film about him, which organized my previously fragmented information and centered it around his heroic act of returning to Russia, which turned him into a unique, mythological figure of a Russian saint-martyr of the 21st century. The book enriched my perception of Navalny primarily with its intense authenticity. A great surprise for me was Navalny’s background as a passionate reader and an equally passionate writer. His mixed Ukrainian-Russian heritage resonated with me (as I am from a mixed marriage myself). His prison diaries are the most powerful thing I have read in a long time.

In recounting his journey to political activism and leadership, Navalny demonstrates that even in a traditionally unfree country like Russia, a decisive and brave person can move mountains. It was inspiring for me to see that there is an alternative for Russia and that politics is not limited to the usual cynicism. And that history is not written only by the victors.

Navalny’s legacy is inextricably linked to his becoming a martyr of the struggle for freedom. With his life and death, he created an alternative narrative for the future of Russia. In the world of the film Leviathan, depicting present-day Russia, he managed to appear as a protagonist showing that the struggle is possible — and that a different future is possible.

Andrei Liimets — Estonia

Cultural critic

Alexey Navalny is very well known in Estonia. Having a common border with Russia and having to live with a constant threat from the east, everything that is happening in Russia also quickly makes its way into the Estonian news. Navalny was for long a symbol of the dream of a different Russia. He might not have a similarly singular heft as in some other countries though, since many other dissidents and activists against Putin’s totalitarian regime have either migrated to Estonia or are also well represented here.

Personally, with a background in international relations and having worked in civil society, I was quite well aware of Navalny’s work. As a culture critic, I had also seen the Oscar-winning documentary on him, and many others about the current state of affairs in Russia. So much of it is [so] Kafkaesque [and] absurd that it borders on the human capability to wonder. In that sense, not that much surprised me, but I found the self-deprecating humor and the ability to analyze himself fresh in the book.

As I also wrote in [this review], the book reminded me of the fact that Putin does not equal Russia. Although I am more doubtful and less hopeful of the overall sanity of Russia’s population, which might be on its path to becoming a larger North Korea, the book still gave me some spark in believing this might not be the only possible result. I also praised the title. Too many populists, opportunists and extremists have occupied the meaning of patriotism, while in reality antagonizing those who actually care for their countries and their people.

It might be too early to say [what Navalny’s legacy will be]. He is a symbol, but if the symbol will gain brightness or dim over time, remains to be seen. I think he remains a source of hope and encouragement, but his story is also a story of sad what-ifs. His death and the emigration of so many of Russia’s best and brightest is testament of Putin’s relentless power. What will remain of Navalny’s legacy, will probably be decided in direct correlation to what happens after Putin.