Introduction
Summary of the book The Man Without A Face by Masha Gessen. Before we start, let’s delve into a short overview of the book. : Imagine standing outside a giant, gray building on a cold morning, wondering who might be secretly watching from behind its heavy curtains. Inside, behind hidden doors and secret files, a quiet man sits, unnoticed yet determined. He started as a simple clerk, working away without anyone truly knowing him. Over time, he rose higher and higher, until suddenly, he controlled an entire nation. This man is Vladimir Putin, a leader who was once barely known, yet now sends shivers down the spines of presidents and ordinary citizens alike. While his early life was filled with struggle and anger, he found his place in secretive organizations that shaped who he would become. He learned to use fear and distrust like tools, quietly building his strength. His story is full of mystery, power grabs, betrayals, and secrets. Turn the page and discover how a once invisible nobody became one of the most feared leaders in the world.
Chapter 1: The Early Years of a Tough-Tempered Boy Who Dreamed of Secrets.
In a city scarred by war and hunger, young Vladimir Putin came into this world in 1952. His childhood home in Leningrad, now called St. Petersburg, was a cramped, grimy communal apartment shared by many families. People struggled with almost everything: clothing, food, and warmth. The city itself had been nearly destroyed by fierce fighting during World War II. Buildings looked like crumbled shells, people’s faces were etched with worry, and sadness lingered over the ruined streets. Amid this difficult atmosphere, Putin’s family tried to survive. His father had been a wounded soldier, carrying scars from battles fought. Two older brothers had died before Putin was even born, making his arrival something bittersweet. Amid such hardships, the family held on to a small room, a few comforts like a television, and a spirit of determination that burned quietly, even in the darkest moments.
Putin grew up small, thin, and easily angered. He was not the type of boy who kept his head down—he fought back whenever he felt disrespected, and his fists soon earned him a reputation as someone who would not be pushed around. Other kids might have avoided trouble, but young Vladimir seemed drawn to it, rushing in with clenched fists and narrowed eyes. To channel his anger, he took up Sambo, a Soviet martial art that combined wrestling and judo. This sport offered him a way to control his fury, learn discipline, and impress those who doubted him. Yet, even with martial arts training, he remained quick to lash out. Local communist youth groups found him too hot-headed, refusing to let him join their ranks, which only fueled his desire to stand out.
But not all aspects of his childhood were grim and rough. Despite the tiny living space and battered environment, Putin’s family managed to keep a few luxuries. They had a summer cabin, a small telephone, and even a television—items that many neighbors could only dream of. How could they afford these things? Putin’s father, once a soldier, kept certain connections with shadowy parts of the state’s security apparatus. The secret police, known as the NKVD, rewarded loyal informants. Through such hidden alliances, the family maintained a slightly better life than many around them. This glimpse of power and advantage, quietly gained through secret deals, might have left an impression on young Vladimir, showing him that quiet loyalty and hidden ties could lift one above the ordinary struggles that surrounded him.
Before long, Putin’s fascination with secrecy and hidden power sources took a stronger hold. At just 16, he approached the KGB, the Soviet Union’s feared intelligence agency, asking how to join their mysterious ranks. To him, it seemed thrilling—working in the shadows, knowing hidden facts, and guiding events from behind a curtain of silence. The KGB officers told him he needed a university degree first. Determined to prove himself, Putin worked hard enough to enter Leningrad University’s law program. He was not a top student, but he was determined, clever, and willing to push himself. He did what it took to move one step closer to the world he admired: a world of spies, secrets, and silent influence, a place where a small boy could grow into someone powerful and respected.
Chapter 2: A Paper-Pushing Spy Who Witnessed a World Shaken by Falling Walls.
After graduating in 1975, Putin finally realized his dream and joined the KGB. But reality did not match his youthful imagination. Instead of dashing missions, disguises, and thrilling international espionage, he was assigned to humdrum bureaucratic tasks. His job often involved sorting files, reading local newspapers, and writing endless reports. For many years, he remained a low-level official, moving papers around rather than toppling governments or uncovering deep conspiracies. Perhaps it disappointed him, or perhaps he understood that patience was required. In the 1980s, his superiors sent him to Dresden in East Germany, a gray city deep behind the Iron Curtain, but not the glamorous capital Berlin. There, he lived among other KGB families, drank too much beer, and watched as the world around him began to shift in ways he never expected.
It was in Dresden that Putin witnessed history’s gears creaking into motion. The late 1980s were tense. Communist governments across Eastern Europe were wobbling like old fences in a strong wind. Protests and uprisings began to shake the firm ground of Soviet power. East Germany, once tightly controlled, saw its citizens pouring through newly opened borders toward West German embassies. Suddenly, secret police offices were no longer feared fortresses; they were targets for angry crowds. In November 1989, the Berlin Wall fell, and with it, the symbolic power of the entire Soviet empire in Eastern Europe. Putin watched with disbelief and confusion as the Stasi—the East German secret police—collapsed, and once-secure buildings filled with terrified officials shredding documents, hoping to hide their secrets from the hungry eyes of freedom-seeking protesters.
As crowds approached the KGB office where Putin worked, he claimed that he bravely went outside and confronted them face-to-face. The truth may never be fully known, but what is certain is that when he asked Moscow for backup, he received no real support. The mighty Soviet Union, which he had served with quiet devotion, did nothing to protect its own agents abroad. As people stormed other secret service buildings and took control, Putin realized that his own powerful homeland was weakening and could no longer shield him. He burned documents, hoping to erase evidence of hidden operations. Feeling abandoned, confused, and likely bitter, he saw that the world he believed in was crumbling around him. With little choice, he and his family packed up and returned home to a Russia he barely recognized.
Back in Leningrad, Putin found himself at a crossroads. The Soviet Union was struggling, and everything he had been taught to trust and serve was now in question. Jobs in the old KGB system were uncertain. The entire nation was undergoing a storm of changes, with people hungry for more freedom, more truth, and a better life. Putin, the patient paper-pusher, had witnessed the fragility of power firsthand. He learned that a mighty system could collapse under the weight of its own lies and inefficiencies. Returning home, he blended into the new and chaotic political scene, keeping his true feelings hidden. He would soon meet people who were rising to fill the gap left by the old system. This next phase of his life would be about choosing sides, forging connections, and waiting to see who would come out on top.
Chapter 3: Amid Soviet Collapse, A Quiet Watcher Chooses Sides Carefully to Survive.
The Soviet Union’s power crumbled like old bricks falling from a ruined wall. In the early 1990s, Mikhail Gorbachev tried to reform the system with openness, or Glasnost, giving people a taste of free speech and greater honesty. But this only sped up the collapse, as old secrets spilled out and citizens demanded even more freedom. As the giant empire tottered, hardline communists, along with the KGB, attempted a coup in August 1991, placing Gorbachev under house arrest. Many brave protesters took to the streets, desperate to defend democracy’s fragile spark. Meanwhile, Putin watched carefully from behind the scenes, not fully committing to either side. He had begun working as an advisor to Anatoly Sobchak, a law professor turned politician who would soon become mayor of Leningrad (which now regained its older name, St. Petersburg).
Putin’s cleverness showed in how he managed the uncertainty. He claimed he had resigned from the KGB before the coup, but the letter was conveniently lost. Perhaps he knew that if the hardliners won, he could claim loyalty. If they lost, he could say he had already distanced himself. Sobchak, for his part, wanted to appear pro-democracy, but he was not always straightforward. He and Putin worked together in the shadows, adjusting their public faces to match whichever side seemed stronger. As confused crowds demanded real change, these two men stayed calm, waiting to see which way the wind would blow. They even spent part of the coup attempt hiding in a bunker beneath a factory, re-emerging only after it was clear that the hardliners had failed.
With the coup crushed, new political possibilities appeared. The old Soviet Union began to break apart into separate countries, and new leaders stepped forward to shape Russia’s future. Gorbachev eventually stepped down, and Boris Yeltsin rose as Russia’s first president. But just because communism was collapsing did not mean honesty or fairness would rule. Many politicians and former KGB men rushed to grab what they could—money, influence, and control. Putin’s experience in Dresden had taught him valuable lessons: loyalty shifted like sand, and those who clung too firmly to old rules could be left behind. He found ways to stay close to power without drawing too much attention, offering quiet services, keeping dark secrets, and using his legal training and connections to impress and influence those who mattered.
As the ground shifted under everyone’s feet, Putin’s quiet, watchful nature served him well. He understood that big, loud moves could be dangerous. Instead, he moved discreetly, building trust where needed, offering subtle support, and pulling away when something looked too risky. St. Petersburg’s new political scene was full of messy alliances, strange deals, and shady characters hoping to climb the ranks. Putin, with his background in intelligence and his calm demeanor, fit right in. He helped Sobchak navigate the wild currents of early Russian democracy. By keeping his head down, knowing when to speak up, and when to stay silent, Putin set himself up to emerge from this period with more power, more knowledge, and more connections than ever before. The seeds of his future rise were quietly being planted.
Chapter 4: The Chaotic 1990s: How Shady Deals Helped a Few Get Very Rich.
The 1990s in Russia were like a sudden gold rush, but with no clear rules and many corrupt players. Ordinary people struggled as prices soared and paychecks shrank. Meanwhile, a clever handful of insiders grew richer and richer through questionable deals. Putin and his allies were among those who found ways to profit from the chaos. For example, a desperate food shortage in 1991 meant Russia needed imported meat. Without cash, Putin arranged to trade valuable natural resources for supplies. But the paperwork was so sloppy that nearly $1 billion worth of raw materials left Russia for a fraction of their true worth. As a reward, Putin pocketed a secret commission. Such shady operations helped certain people move upward while the rest of the population fell into deep poverty.
St. Petersburg’s mayor, Sobchak, benefited from these turbulent times as well. When Russia’s first president, Boris Yeltsin, got rid of the old parliament, Sobchak convinced him to break up the city council. While people endured hardships, Sobchak handed out prime apartments to friends, relatives, and loyal helpers. City services crumbled while a few insiders grew fat on their privileges. The streets echoed with the frustration of citizens who felt betrayed by leaders who had promised better days. Putin worked as Sobchak’s deputy, managing campaigns and overseeing deals. Though Sobchak lost an election in 1996, Putin made sure his former boss escaped arrest and fled abroad to Paris, safe from corruption charges. Putin’s talents were noticed, and soon he relocated to Moscow, stepping onto a bigger stage where even greater opportunities awaited.
In Moscow, Putin’s rise continued. He secured a position as deputy of presidential property management, a role that gave him access to important assets and information. By 1998, he climbed higher, becoming head of the Federal Security Service (FSB), the agency that replaced the KGB. With this title, he wielded tremendous influence. A year later, Putin arranged for the corruption charges against Sobchak to disappear. Sobchak returned to Russia, publicly thanking Putin, though their recollections of past events often differed. Oddly enough, after a tense meeting and subsequent trip to Kaliningrad in 2000, Sobchak died suddenly. Officially, it was a heart attack, but whispers of foul play lingered. Some suspected a mild poisoning. Such mysteries and suspicions would become a pattern wherever Putin’s path led, like shadows following close behind.
These years taught Putin that power in Russia was not about ideals or helping ordinary people. Instead, it was about forming alliances, controlling information, and making sure rivals were too scared to challenge you. Money flowed around him, enriching the fortunate few while leaving most Russians disappointed and angry. Still, many citizens found it hard to understand what was happening behind closed doors. The media was not yet fully controlled, but hidden influences shaped what stories got told and which remained secret. Those who stood up against corruption were often threatened, fired, or worse. Putin understood how to navigate this environment perfectly: staying close to powerful figures, knowing when to vanish documents, and ensuring that anyone who might threaten his rise was kept in line, one way or another.
Chapter 5: Yeltsin’s Uncertain Heir: A Careful Climber Handpicked to Keep Secrets Safe.
By the late 1990s, Boris Yeltsin’s presidency was troubled. The excitement of the early post-communist years had faded. Many Russians were disappointed, facing economic hardships and broken promises. The nation had defaulted on its debts, and people were angry at a system that seemed to favor a small circle of rich insiders. Yeltsin himself felt cornered, fearing that once he left office, his enemies might punish him. He needed someone reliable, someone who would protect him and his friends. He and his advisors, known as the family, searched for a successor who would not turn against them. Putin, with his quiet loyalty, careful approach, and background in intelligence, seemed the perfect candidate. He was like a trusted guard dog, eager to please and ready to defend his master’s secrets.
One of Putin’s powerful supporters was Boris Berezovsky, a cunning oligarch who had grown extremely wealthy by exploiting Russia’s chaotic markets. Berezovsky liked that Putin did not ask for bribes or show off in flashy ways. He also appreciated that Putin could be shaped into a political figure that looked reliable to voters. Using his media influence, Berezovsky helped create a new political party called Unity. This party was built around Putin’s image, though it had no strong ideas other than supporting the man who was set to inherit power. Putin’s face, his stern demeanor, and his promise of stability were carefully sold to the Russian public through friendly television coverage and flattering stories. He was presented as a strong leader who could bring order back to a turbulent nation.
On the last day of 1999, Yeltsin made a surprising move. He resigned as president and named Putin as acting president. Almost overnight, Putin held Russia’s highest office, even though most citizens and politicians barely knew him. He had never run a major public campaign. He had not delivered sweeping speeches. He was still a mystery to many. At the World Economic Forum in early 2000, foreign leaders asked senior Russian officials who Putin was and what he believed. Nobody could give a clear answer. Yet here he was, standing at the top, ready to shape Russia’s future. It was a moment born of backroom deals, secret understandings, and a desperate need by Yeltsin and his allies to find a protector they could trust.
With power suddenly in his hands, Putin set about strengthening his position. Before long, he would run for president in March 2000. He won easily, helped by state-controlled media and a lack of serious competition. Russians who yearned for stability welcomed him, hoping that his firm, no-nonsense style would end the chaos of the 1990s. But behind that calm face was a leader ready to tighten his grip. He understood the value of fear, the power of controlling information, and the importance of rewarding friends while punishing foes. Yeltsin’s choice of Putin was a gamble that handed Russia’s future to a man who had quietly learned how to manipulate systems, maintain loyalty through fear, and solidify a hold on power that would be hard to break.
Chapter 6: Explosions, Fear, and War in Chechnya: A Leader Tightens His Grip on Power.
Not long after Putin stepped onto the political stage, a series of horrifying apartment bombings shook Russia. In September 1999, several blasts killed hundreds of innocent people as they slept. The government quickly blamed Chechen rebels, feeding the public’s anger and fear. Yet questions soon arose: Were the Chechens truly responsible, or had the Russian security services staged these attacks to justify a new war in Chechnya? When sacks of explosives were discovered in the basement of a building in Ryazan, officials first hailed it as a thwarted terrorist plot. Later, they claimed it was just a security drill. Many felt something strange was going on. Yet, with little clear evidence and a frightened population, Putin seized the moment, launching a fierce campaign against Chechnya and showing himself as a strong defender of Russian lives.
Chechen terrorism, real or exaggerated, helped Putin appear as a tough leader who would not hesitate to use force. The second Chechen war he unleashed was brutal. Russian troops pounded Chechen cities with bombs, killing not just fighters but also countless civilians. Meanwhile, Moscow portrayed the conflict as necessary to protect Russia. Later incidents, like the 2002 Moscow theater siege, where Chechen militants held hundreds hostage, further fueled the fear. Putin’s forces ended that siege with a secret gas that killed many hostages, raising more questions about the methods used. In Beslan, 2004, a school was taken over by armed men. The final assault by federal troops left over 300 people dead, including children. Such tragedies increased the sense that Russia needed a strong, even ruthless, leader to stand firm against violent threats.
In the wake of these attacks, Putin tightened his grip on Russia’s political system. He declared that the country must be strong and united. He ended direct elections for regional governors and changed how the lower house of parliament was chosen, favoring party lists that he controlled. Soon, all meaningful opposition was smothered. Voting began to feel like a ritual rather than a choice. His message was simple: tough times demanded tough leadership. Many Russians, exhausted by instability and frightened by violence, accepted these measures as a necessary evil. While some quietly protested, the voice of dissent grew weaker. The idea of a free press and independent opinions faded as the Kremlin, under Putin, gained the tools to shape what the public saw, heard, and believed.
Terror, whether genuine or manufactured, had become a tool to remake Russia’s political structure. Putin’s early image as a quiet bureaucrat gave way to a leader willing to use deadly force and harsh laws to strengthen his position. The Chechen war was not just about Chechnya; it was about sending a signal to the entire country: challenge the Kremlin, and you face terrible consequences. Those who observed closely saw that fear and violence were not just reactions to crises—they were methods of governing. In a few short years, Putin had transformed from a shadowy figure into a central force in Russian life, able to direct the nation’s future. The tension and terror of these conflicts would forever change the face of Russian politics and the freedoms its citizens once hoped to enjoy.
Chapter 7: Silencing Voices: How Journalists and Critics Are Gagged or Worse.
Under Putin’s rule, those who dared to speak out learned that their words could carry a lethal price. Independent journalists, brave enough to question official stories, quickly found themselves under threat. Business owners who funded free media outlets felt the squeeze of government pressure. Vladimir Gusinsky, who built a private media empire, dared to criticize Putin’s government and suggest that the 1999 apartment bombings might involve the secret services. Within days, armed men raided his offices, seizing documents. Facing charges of fraud, Gusinsky fled the country. It became clear: if you controlled media that challenged the Kremlin’s line, you would lose that media or your freedom.
Wealthy supporters who once helped Putin rise found themselves punished if they turned critical. Boris Berezovsky, once a key ally, criticized Putin’s anti-democratic moves and ended up facing fraud charges from afar, choosing exile over certain arrest. Even more chilling were the mysterious deaths that followed those who probed too deeply into dark corners of Russian politics. Former Russian intelligence officer Alexander Litvinenko, living in London, uncovered suspicious details about the Moscow theater siege and linked it back to potential government involvement. Before he could reveal more, he was poisoned with radioactive polonium, dying painfully far from home. In Russia, journalist Anna Politkovskaya, who reported honestly on the Chechen war’s brutality, was shot dead in her apartment building. Others who hinted at uncomfortable truths also ended up silenced, whether by bullets or bizarre accidents.
This climate of fear showed that the Kremlin would not tolerate people who uncovered its secrets. It did not matter if they were once friends or beneficial allies. Once they spoke out or turned critical, they were cut down. The message was unmistakable: keep your mouth shut, or pay the price. For ordinary Russians, this meant fewer trustworthy sources of information. Television networks became mouthpieces for the state. Newspapers avoided risky topics. As a result, finding accurate news became like looking for a needle in a haystack of lies. The fear of stepping out of line kept people quiet. The courageous few who still dared to whisper the truth knew that the eyes of the Kremlin were always watching.
These tactics ensured that challenges to Putin’s narrative stayed small and disorganized. Without a free press, corruption could thrive in the darkness. With each critic silenced, the government gained more room to rewrite events, cover up misdeeds, and direct the public’s understanding of reality. The final outcome was a society where citizens learned to be careful with their words and opinions. Whistleblowers who revealed wrongdoings faced not just legal troubles, but potential harm to themselves and their families. In this dangerous environment, few dared to question who was truly responsible for terrorism, war, or suspicious deaths. Step by step, fear and silence replaced the lively debates and hopeful spirit that had briefly appeared in the 1990s, leaving a quieter, darker Russia behind.
Chapter 8: Friends in High Places: Helping Allies Grow Rich While Rivals Rot in Jail.
As Putin tightened his grip on Russia, he made sure that those loyal to him prospered. Quietly and systematically, the nation’s wealth flowed into the pockets of a select group of friends, business allies, and former colleagues from his days in St. Petersburg or the KGB. These favored individuals gained control of oil companies, media groups, and giant construction projects. Rumors spread that Putin himself had amassed a staggering fortune worth tens of billions of dollars, including a lavish palace on the Black Sea. While ordinary Russians struggled with low wages and poor public services, the inner circle feasted, enjoying luxury beyond most people’s imagination.
Such corruption did not stop at secret bank accounts. Putin’s cronies also enjoyed legal protections. If accused of wrongdoing, they rarely faced serious consequences. Their businesses thrived under government contracts. Meanwhile, those who refused to play along found themselves targeted by suspicious tax audits, arrests, or forced sales. Mikhail Khodorkovsky, once Russia’s richest man and the owner of a major oil company called Yukos, dared to challenge Putin by funding social initiatives and calling out corruption. He confronted Putin publicly, questioning dishonest deals. Soon afterward, Khodorkovsky was arrested, tried in a show trial, and locked away in a penal colony. His company was broken up and sold cheaply to Putin’s allies. This dramatic downfall taught the oligarchs one lesson: do not cross Putin, or everything you have can vanish overnight.
Under these conditions, fairness and law became tools that the Kremlin used only when convenient. Courts, police, and tax collectors danced to the government’s tune. Few dared to imagine independent judges or free investigations. The economy might have improved a bit for some Russians, but genuine fairness and equal opportunity faded away. The state could reward you with wealth if you stayed loyal, or crush you if you stepped out of line. Money and power formed a tight circle around the president, isolating him from the concerns of ordinary citizens. As Russians looked on, many realized that challenging this system was risky. People had seen what happened to Khodorkovsky and others who tried to stand up for honesty and fairness.
This corrupt arrangement became the engine driving modern Russia. With wealth and political influence concentrated in a small elite, the government could steer the country in any direction it pleased. Outside voices were drowned out. Local communities, journalists, and independent thinkers had no platform to oppose this grand theft of national resources. Putin’s ability to shape the economy and business world gave him another lever of power. By keeping friends close and controlling the flow of riches, he ensured that any attempt to remove him would face fierce resistance from well-fed allies. These dynamics formed a stable, yet deeply unfair, system that kept Putin and his circle at the top while leaving most Russians standing outside, looking in, wondering what had happened to their dreams of a better, more equal society.
Chapter 9: Rigged Votes, Fake Parties, and Crushed Hopes: Democracy Under Heavy Chains.
If elections are meant to reflect the will of the people, Russia’s elections under Putin were twisted mirrors. He learned that controlling how people voted and what choices they had was just as powerful as controlling the economy or the media. By 2000, Putin won the presidency without really campaigning. By 2004, he claimed an even larger victory, aided by a manipulated media landscape and feeble opposition. He reshaped the country’s laws so that key political figures were appointed, not elected. Parliament’s upper chamber became a place where members were placed by the Kremlin, not chosen by voters. Regional governors, once elected by citizens, were now handpicked by the president. Thus, political power became locked tightly into Putin’s hands.
Opposition parties faced countless hurdles. Prominent critics struggled to get their voices heard. Putin’s allies even created fake opposition parties, giving Russians the illusion of choice while ensuring the Kremlin’s agenda always triumphed. Wealthy figures like Mikhail Prokhorov were asked to lead make-believe political groups. If they refused to play along, they were quietly pushed aside. In such a landscape, genuine opponents faced closed doors, canceled rallies, and silence from state-controlled channels. When voting day came, observers often reported suspicious activities: ballot boxes mysteriously stuffed, voters intimidated, and officials bending the rules. In 2011, international monitors found evidence of widespread cheating in Moscow’s precincts, yet nothing changed. The system was designed for Putin’s party to win, and that is what always happened.
As new laws were passed, foreign-backed nonprofits and civil groups were labeled foreign agents, forced to close their doors or face criminal charges. Treason and espionage laws were stretched so broadly that almost anyone could be accused if they engaged with international human rights groups or charities. Acts of peaceful protest, like playing a political punk song in a cathedral, earned members of the band Pussy Riot two years in prison. Such heavy-handed actions sent a clear message: do not challenge the official story, do not question the powerful, and do not hope for meaningful change at the ballot box. The spirit of free speech and open debate, briefly alive in the 1990s, was suffocating under layers of oppressive regulations.
This atmosphere of controlled democracy and false freedom shaped a Russia where many gave up on politics altogether. Younger generations saw how votes changed nothing and how those who complained ended up bullied or silenced. Without healthy public debate, corruption thrived, and leaders became more distant from the people they governed. Instead of serving the public, officials served the Kremlin, hoping for a pat on the back or a share of the spoils. In such an environment, true reform became a distant dream. The chains around democracy were heavy, and few dared to pick the lock. Over time, hope for a fair, open society faded like old paint, leaving behind a system in which one man’s will guided the future of millions.
Chapter 10: Public Image Stunts, Heartless Actions, and the Curtain Pulled Aside.
If reality was grim, Putin’s carefully crafted image tried to tell a different story. Photos and videos showed him as a strongman conquering nature—riding horseback shirtless, wrestling tigers, and facing down polar bears. But behind these dramatic images were staged events, critics said. Animals were captured beforehand and drugged. Antiques found under the sea were conveniently placed there for a showy discovery. Every scene was scripted to make Putin appear heroic, confident, and mighty. Such publicity stunts were designed to make him look like a man of the people, a leader who was not afraid to get his hands dirty. But while the public saw a polished persona on TV, reality told a different, colder tale.
In personal interactions, Putin often showed a lack of empathy. In August 2000, a Russian nuclear submarine called the Kursk suffered explosions and sank to the bottom of the Barents Sea. More than a hundred sailors were trapped inside, struggling to survive. Norway and Britain offered help, but Russia hesitated, wasting precious time. By the time foreign rescuers were allowed to attempt a rescue, a week had passed and there were no survivors. When news reached Putin, he remained at his holiday spot on the Black Sea, delaying his return and showing little urgency. When he finally visited the grieving families, he seemed more concerned about looking strong than offering comfort. His response to Larry King’s question about the submarine’s fate—It sank—revealed a chilling indifference.
Over time, more such stories emerged. As Putin ruled longer, people began seeing through the well-managed illusions. He might have believed he understood human nature, but those who met him described a man who preferred control over compassion. His main skill lay in manipulating political systems, silencing critics, and bending reality to fit his storyline. When confronted with disasters or tragedies, he often responded with anger or dismissive comments, rather than genuine sadness or understanding. Citizens who hoped that their leader might share their grief realized they were dealing with someone who valued strength over kindness and power over empathy.
By this point, few people believed the myth of a humble, duty-bound servant of the nation. Instead, they saw a leader firmly in control of a vast web of influence. He was surrounded by loyal men who owed him their fortunes and would defend him fiercely. He did not need to show real emotions; he only needed to project the image of a firm, commanding figure. In a country where television stations obeyed the Kremlin, and challengers faced peril, it was easy to maintain that image. Whether appearing as a heroic adventurer or a stern commander, Putin had built a personality cult that kept him at the center of Russia’s story. Those who peeked behind the curtain, however, found not a caring leader, but a cool strategist without a human face.
Chapter 11: A World In His Shadow: Global Echoes of a Ruler Without a Conscience.
As years passed, Putin’s influence spilled beyond Russia’s borders. Global leaders who once knew little about him now watched nervously, aware that he played by different rules. He maneuvered on the world stage much as he had done at home—mixing truth with lies, using power to serve his goals, and daring others to call his bluff. With energy resources at his disposal and the ability to stir conflict in neighboring countries, Putin wielded leverage in international politics. His critics warned that his disregard for human rights inside Russia was a clue to how he would behave internationally. He could support dictators, fund misinformation campaigns, and sow divisions elsewhere, all while claiming innocence.
Foreign governments tried to understand the man behind the mask. They saw how he had crushed free press at home, and realized he could manipulate information globally. They witnessed how he rewarded loyalists and punished those who dared to stand up to him, and feared what that meant for international partners or rivals. He showed that treaties, agreements, and diplomatic norms could be bent or broken. In some places, his interference in elections or support of certain political groups caused waves of uncertainty. All the while, he maintained a front of calm denial. Just as Russians had grown used to his careful image-crafting, the world now encountered the same clever tactics on a broader scale.
For ordinary Russians, this global presence meant living under a leader who cared more about projecting power abroad than uplifting lives at home. The promises of the 1990s, when freedom and fairness seemed possible, lay in ruins. Instead, Russia had a leader who had learned to thrive on fear, both domestic and international. Those who understood the roots of Putin’s journey—his early anger, his KGB training, his secret deals, his silencing of critics—saw that this was not just a matter of unlucky circumstances. It was a pattern, a method. He had perfected the art of staying in control, using any tool at his disposal, and never truly changing his tactics of secrecy and intimidation.
In a way, Putin’s rise from an unnoticed bureaucrat to a feared ruler mirrors the corruption of hopes and dreams that followed the Soviet collapse. While some had imagined a bright, open future, what emerged was a system that rewarded cunning, crushed honesty, and made cynicism the safest stance. Putin stands as a symbol of that lost chance, a man who stripped away others’ illusions with steady determination. He is the man without a face not because he is unknown, but because the face he presents is always a mask—a carefully designed front, hiding motives rooted in power for its own sake. For young people who look upon this legacy, the question lingers: will they ever see a day when Russia’s fate is not decided by whispered threats, staged heroics, and secret deals?
All about the Book
Explore the complexities of power and identity in ‘The Man Without A Face’ by Masha Gessen, a gripping exploration of Vladimir Putin’s rise. Discover insights into politics, psychology, and the influences that shape modern Russia.
Masha Gessen is a renowned journalist and author known for their incisive political commentary and deep understanding of Russian history. Their works illuminate critical global issues and challenge conventional narratives.
Political Analysts, Journalists, Historians, Students of International Relations, Cultural Critics
Political Writing, Reading About History, Current Events Analysis, Debating, Social Activism
Authoritarianism, Media Manipulation, Political Corruption, Human Rights Violations
Power is not a means; it is an end.
Elena Ferrante, Stephen Fry, David Remnick
National Book Award, George Orwell Prize, Los Angeles Times Book Prize
1. What insights reveal Putin’s unexpected rise to power? #2. How did Putin navigate Russia’s political landscape? #3. What role did KGB experience play in Putin’s leadership? #4. How does Putin maintain control over Russian media? #5. What are the implications of Russia’s oligarchic system? #6. How does Putin’s governance impact Russian civil liberties? #7. What strategies does Putin employ to silence dissent? #8. How did Putin’s past shape his political ideologies? #9. What influences guide Putin’s foreign policy decisions? #10. How does nationalism feature in Putin’s rhetoric? #11. What is the significance of Putin’s public image? #12. How has Putin altered Russia’s political structure? #13. What challenges face those opposing Putin’s regime? #14. How did economic conditions influence Putin’s popularity? #15. What role does fear play in Putin’s power consolidation? #16. How has Putin handled international conflicts involving Russia? #17. What are the cultural factors affecting Putin’s support? #18. How do corruption and power intertwine in Russia? #19. What does Putin’s leadership mean for future generations? #20. How has Putin shaped Russia’s global geopolitical stance?
Masha Gessen, The Man Without A Face, Vladimir Putin biography, Russian politics book, nonfiction about Russia, political memoirs, Putin and oligarchs, Gessen political analysis, contemporary Russian history, authoritarian regimes, biographies of political leaders, books on power and corruption
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