I first met Vladimir Putin years ago, when he was just a struggling KGB agent in Dresden. He tried (unsuccessfully, of course) to make me a KGB asset, but not very hard; you could tell his heart wasn’t in it. He came across as someone who loved his country, but had some doubts about communism. We hit it off immediately over a few warm East German beers. He promised to keep in touch.
When I saw him the next time, he was, much to his surprise (and mine), President of Russia. He had just obliterated Chechnya, but did not have any apparent issues with the US or NATO. He was basically the same guy, but he had developed some attitudes about power and the manifest destiny of Russia that made me queasy. At times, his comments about the Russian people sounded like something that would come out of the mouth of an 18th century tsar. I was a bit worried about what it meant for the future, but I let it go.
The next time I saw him, he had just taken Crimea. He was riding high. He kept spouting nonsense about the holiness of Russia and how America had screwed up the world. I couldn’t get him to stop. I couldn’t decide whether he actually bought into this stuff or not, but it didn’t matter. We didn’t have anything more to say. I haven’t seen him since.
Today, he looks and sounds like a monster. I don’t even recognize him. He’s just not the same guy. He needs to go as soon as possible.