A Few Paragraphs About Albats

Today I watched the YouTube interview of Katerina Gordeeva with Yevgenia Albats — and I couldn’t stay silent. I heard her confidently say that she advised Navalny to return to Russia, and I felt compelled to speak out.
She advised a person who had already endured severe trauma — both physical and psychological. A person who might have been under medications affecting cognitive abilities and sober judgment. And in that moment, the “teacher” Yevgenia Albats appeared and pushed him toward a place where he would almost certainly be arrested and left to rot. She knew the risks, she knew he had already been targeted — yet she still pushed him to his death.
When Gordeeva timidly asked if she knew about the forthcoming arrest, Albats confidently replied, “Yes, I knew.” Yet nothing threatened her personally: no criticism, no condemnation from the powerful. Ordinary people, like me, do not interest her — she despises the masses. The result is known: a voice that could have fought was silenced in Stalinist fashion.
I am convinced: this was not a mistake, but a deliberate push toward victimhood by someone for whom the suffering of others is convenient. While Navalny walked into a trap, Albats was building her career. At the same time, when I was openly harassed in the U.S. starting in 1998 and poisoned in 2006, she was defending her dissertation at Harvard. I am certain she knew about me. Yet she chose silence — she had to play along with those who were tormenting me to secure her own well-being.
She quickly realized that in America, democracy is for the chosen. And she did everything to enter this circle. To do so, she had to stay silent and distract the public from real problems. Why write about political violence in the U.S. of the ’90s and 2000s, if it is more profitable to write about the KGB of Stalin’s era? Why report from the scene, when one can dig through old archives? It is like a doctor who, presented with a patient bleeding profusely, begins to recount a history of jaundice the patient had years ago instead of stopping the bleeding.
Albats cares not for truth, but for her own well-being. Her book on the KGB brought her attention, money, and career opportunities, while simultaneously shielding contemporary intelligence services — Russian and Western alike. She became useful to the rich and those who serve them. She assumed the role of a “truth-lover,” behind which the interests of the powerful are conveniently hidden. Human rights? Yes, but only if they belong to billionaires. And the poor Russian people should sit quietly.
With a sly smile, she says, “It’s hard to live in America with a Russian passport.” I believe this is directed at people like me. She herself chose a backup option — an Israeli passport. She has never raised the question of a “strong Russian passport.” And without freedom of movement, no other freedom can exist.
She even cheerfully admits: yes, she is responsible for the war in Ukraine starting. She fully understands the 1947 Geneva Convention, which states that violations of individual rights lead to unjust wars. Yet she will never be held accountable for her silence and concealment. She smiles, for her well-being is secure.
From my experience and perception, her activities have consistently shielded the interests of American intelligence and political circles involved in harassment and intimidation of people like me. This is a serious accusation — but it is based on my personal experience.
For me, this is not just a critique of journalism. It is an accusation of moral cowardice and hypocrisy. Those who teach others to be victims must either be ready to pay the same price themselves or remain silent. Albats chose not only silence and comfort. She chose to hide the truth and make provocative statements. She understood that politics could be highly profitable, entered the circle of the “chosen,” and now upholds their standards of living. Flaunting herself on screens, she contributes to the establishment of dystopia and a return to Stalinism. For me, this is complicity.