Alexei Navalny’s memoirs are a gospel in which he foresaw his own death

“Dying really didn’t hurt.” These are the opening words of Patriot, the posthumously published autobiography of Alexei Navalny. We know he died. And this book tells the story of his death—how he approached it, how he prepared for it, and how he overcame it. Navalny’s memoirs are those of a man consciously walking toward death. It is a gospel, but autobiographical.

Although Navalny’s memoirs are those of a man consciously walking toward death, Patriot starts light-hearted and humorous. Navalny jokes, recalls old anecdotes and shares detailed stories from his youth. He painstakingly recreates the atmosphere of the Soviet Union and the broken Russia of the early 1990s. Sometimes it reads like a beautifully designed novel. Here is the author as a little boy, traveling to a village near Chernobyl. Here he is, bundled up in his warmest clothes, climbing into a freezing bus to return home from kindergarten. Here he is, robbed by an older classmate: Navalny, a nerd who doesn’t like fighting, but likes reading, and isn’t sure how to react.

The book starts this way because the author still has time. In August 2020, Navalny was poisoned with Novichok, but the attempt failed. He recovers in Berlin and then in Schwarzwald, Germany. He learns to walk again, hold a pen and prepares to return to Russia.

It is at this time that Navalny begins to write this book, Patriot. He still has plenty of time to crack jokes, draw historical parallels, and write an enjoyable read.

I was probably one of the first to read her in the original, purely Russian version. Alexei’s widow, Julia Navalnaya, was very concerned that the file would be stolen, so about a month ago she asked me to fly from New York to Vilnius, Lithuania, to read the typeset manuscript there. When I started the book, Alexei’s style was immediately recognizable; it felt like I could actually hear his voice. But that was just the beginning.

In January 2021, Navalny flies back to Russia and is immediately arrested at Moscow airport. In the book he explains why he returned, in the same way as in his previous writings and interviews: It is his choice, his Calvary; this is his sacrifice for his beautiful future Russia.

He continues to write the autobiography in the same tone until he describes what is perhaps the most important and cherished moment in his life: meeting his wife Yulia. This is the funniest and most uplifting part of the book. Navalny is in prison when he writes it, separated from his wife. The reader knows, reading it now, that this separation will be forever. But it seems Navalny doesn’t know this yet. Or is it?

In the following chapters, Navalny is in a hurry: he chases time and rushes to finish. He skips details and crams several years onto one page.

I first met Navalny in 2010. I still remember that daring young man, just returned from Yale, walking into my office exclaiming, “I finally got my beloved TV Rain!” At that time I headed the only TV station of the Russian opposition. Navalny tried to talk like Barack Obama– although it came across as a bit exaggerated. But he soon learned how to be a real politician. The following decade, from 2010 to 2020, was the most active and most notable period of his political life. During those years he became Putin’s main opponent, Russia’s most popular politician and a hero for young Russians. He angered thousands of officials and got into fights with hundreds of journalists.