The Lost Russian World or Blood Feud Is Here

 

A sophisticated reader, especially from the United States, can easily picture the scene: the Governor of Connecticut, standing before a room filled with the state's top law enforcement officials, suddenly declares a blood feud against a senator from Delaware. The public official of one state openly vows vengeance against a representative elected by another state's people. The speech is dramatic, incendiary—and recorded for all to see.

Absurd, right? Something that would never happen in a modern democracy. But it did happen, not in America, but in Russia—just the other day.

Ramzan Kadyrov, the head of the Chechen Republic, declared a blood feud against Suleiman Kerimov, a senator from Dagestan, and two State Duma deputies, Bekkhan Barakhoev and Rizvan Kurbanov. Publicly. On video. A declaration of medieval-style vengeance between politicians, unfolding in the open like a scene from a dark, feudal past.

For many readers, especially those not steeped in research on ancient tribal customs like blood feuds, this event may seem wildly out of place in the 21st century. A relic of a bygone era, perhaps. But in today's Russia, where the lines between the state, personal vendettas, and raw power struggles blur, it’s all too real.

So why blood feud? Why now? As with many things, the answer lies in the money. The battle over control of Russia’s Wildberries marketplace has turned into a modern-day feud with the trappings of medieval power plays. And who better to remind us of this bizarre return to the past than Vladimir Putin himself, the man who warns of Russia slipping back into the "dashing 90s" even as he steadily drags the country through civilization, into barbarism, and ultimately, into savagery.

Blood feuds, like ancient rivers hidden beneath the surface, have long been buried under layers of state institutions and modern legal systems. But they never truly vanish. As soon as the state weakens, as Russia is now doing, tribal instincts rise. Violence becomes personal again, depersonalized justice collapses, and the rule of law dissolves into personal revenge.

Georg Hegel described blood feud as "Immortal Revenge," an endless cycle that can last generations, continuing until the last perceived guilty party has been erased from existence. It’s not just about one man avenging another—it’s about the survival of a brutal, honor-driven order that overrides everything.

This is the Russia that Ukrainians fight so fiercely to resist. A place where, in the shadows of the state, old instincts and brutal realities reemerge. Ukrainians refuse to go back to that. They’ve chosen a different path—one that embraces freedom, rule of law, and civilization, far from the blood-stained politics of personal vengeance.

In that context, Ukraine’s resistance becomes more than just a war for territory or sovereignty. It is a fight to keep the dark undercurrents of feudalism, violence, and endless blood feuds at bay. It’s a fight for a future that Russia seems determined to forsake.

Glory to Ukraine!