Romanov burial exposes rift in Russia. An attempt to bring closure on one of the most sordid affairs of the 20th century.
by Darris McNeely
Eighty years after their brutal murder,
the mortal remains of the last Czar of the Russias, Nicholas II, his
wife Alexandria, three of their four children, and four servants were
finally laid to rest on July 17, 1998, at the Cathedral of St. Peter
and Paul in St. Petersburg, Russia. The burial turned out to be a feeble
attempt at closure on one of the most sordid affairs of the twentieth
century. A descendant of the last Czar, Prince Nicholas Romanov, desired
that the burial be a "signal of forgiveness" and "a moment of repentance,
understanding and mutual pardon."
The bones were exhumed in 1991 from a forest
near the Russian city of Yekaterinburg. DNA testing verified the remains
as those of the Romanovs. Still missing are the remains of one daughter
and the heir, Alexei.
The deep rift within Russia was evident
in that President Boris Yeltsin, who ordered the burial of the remains
more than six years ago, waited until the last minute to decide to
attend. Because he believes the remains of the family are not authentic,
the Patriarch of the Russian Orthodox Church would not officiate. Some
members of the Romanov family would not attend because of deep-seated
animosity toward the Bolshevik regime.
Today's Russia is facing critical economic
and political problems that threaten to end its brief experience with
democratic rule. A headline in the July 10 issue of The Economist read "Russia's
Crisis: Could It Lead To Facism?" As Russia lurches from one crisis
to another some speculate that its current problems could snatch the
fragile seeds of democracy from the mother soil. The article paints
a gloomy picture, "Even by Russian standards, it has been a frightening
and sometimes bizarre few weeks. The ruble is on the edge of a precipice.
Short-term interest rates, just 21 percent last autumn, shot up to
150 percent last month before coming down to 60 percent; they have
again climbed back to 80 percent. If the ruble crashes, economic-and
quite possibly political-catastrophe beckons. Instead of pottering
around their weekend dachas and bathing in muddy pools (their usual
summer pastimes), intelligent Muscovites are talking seriously-for
the first time in five years-about a financial and political crisis
that may be settled only by force of arms."