On Sunday, I had the "opportunity" to visit Lenin's mausoleum in Red Square, where the leader of the Russian Revolution lies in a state of perpetual rest. Talk about surreal.
In order to view the body of the man responsible (directly and indirectly) for some of the worst atrocities, repression, and mass murder of the 20th century you have to wait in line outside in the cold. Then, you surrender your cameras and cell phones (and pay a price for the privilege) and pass through a metal detector. Stern-faced guards command your to remove your head wear upon entering and you feel pressured to observe a respectful attitude of mourning.
For a moment you almost forget that this man represented an ideology that ultimately lost the Cold War. An ideology that attempted to remake society into a paradise on earth and would spare nothing to achieve it. An ideology of death. An ideology of terror. An ideology of evil.
And yet here he lies, in a place of respect and honor years after his promises of a New Man proved to deliver nothing but a new tyranny, a new society far worse than anything that came before it in Russian history. With the blood of millions on his hands, the mausoleum is not a place of honor, but one of shame.
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