Russia also declared its independence. This was approved by the

“Russia also declared its independence. This was approved by the Supreme Soviet, and you know and remember that there was the Declaration on the Independence of Russia.” — Boris Yeltsin

In these grave and historic words, Boris Yeltsin, the first President of the Russian Federation, evokes one of the most dramatic moments of the modern age — the moment when a giant among nations awoke from the long dream of empire to reclaim its independence. His words, spoken with solemnity, do not merely record a political event; they capture the heartbeat of a civilization in rebirth. For when Russia declared its independence, it was not only the end of the Soviet Union, but the beginning of a new era — one fraught with uncertainty, yet burning with the ancient fire of freedom. The Declaration on the Independence of Russia, issued in 1990 and ratified by the Supreme Soviet, marked the moment when a people accustomed to power turned their gaze inward and said, “We too must be free.”

The meaning of Yeltsin’s words lies not only in politics but in the profound transformation of the spirit. For centuries, Russia had known strength through dominion — through empire, revolution, and ideology. Yet in that hour, she sought another kind of strength: the strength of sovereignty, of identity reclaimed. When Yeltsin spoke of the Declaration, he was not boasting of victory, but reminding his people of a sacred covenant — that independence is not granted by rulers, nor maintained by fear, but forged anew by every generation. The collapse of the Soviet order was not merely the fall of a government; it was the shattering of an illusion — that the human soul could be governed by doctrine alone. Out of the ruins of control rose the fragile but immortal flame of freedom.

The origin of these words rests in the tumultuous dawn of the 1990s. As the Soviet Union began to crumble, republic after republic sought self-determination — Ukraine, Lithuania, Estonia, Georgia, and others declared their independence, casting off the heavy cloak of centralized power. Then, on June 12, 1990, the Russian Soviet Federative Socialist Republic itself — the very heart of the Union — declared its own independence. It was a moment of both irony and revelation: the core had freed itself from its own creation. When Yeltsin later reminded his people of this act, he was affirming not only a document, but the birth of a new consciousness — that Russia, long the conqueror, had now joined the company of the liberated.

To understand the power of this declaration, one must recall the scene of that time. The streets of Moscow were alive with both hope and hunger. The old banners were being lowered, and the double-headed eagle of old Russia was rising again. Factories stood idle, shelves were empty, yet in the hearts of many there flickered something new — the belief that though the path ahead was perilous, it would at last be their own. In Yeltsin’s firm but weary voice, one could hear the echo of the Decembrists, who had died a century before for the dream of freedom; the whisper of Tolstoy and Dostoevsky, who had pondered the moral soul of Russia; and the cry of the countless nameless who had endured exile and silence under tyranny. Their yearning was now spoken aloud, and the world trembled at its sound.

Yet Yeltsin’s words also carry a warning, subtle and eternal. For independence is not a treasure won once and kept forever; it is a living covenant that must be renewed by wisdom, courage, and self-discipline. Many in those years thought freedom would come easily — that the collapse of authority would yield instant prosperity. But freedom without foundation leads to chaos, and independence without integrity leads to ruin. Yeltsin, who had led the people in defiance of the old order, soon found himself burdened by the immense weight of governing a nation adrift. His declaration, therefore, was not an ending, but a beginning — the beginning of a trial through which Russia, like all nations reborn, would have to learn the meaning of responsibility.

The lesson that flows from this moment is as old as history itself: that independence is both a gift and a task. A people who declare themselves free must first free their minds — from fear, from apathy, from the shadows of the past. They must learn, as Yeltsin’s Russia had to learn, that freedom is not the absence of rule, but the presence of justice; not the promise of comfort, but the call to self-mastery. The true miracle of independence is not found in proclamations or parades, but in the daily labor of building a nation that honors truth, dignity, and the will of its people.

Therefore, let us remember Yeltsin’s words as a reminder to all who seek liberation — whether as nations or as individuals — that every declaration of independence is both a birth and a burden. The birth of freedom demands the death of complacency; the burden of freedom demands the strength to bear it. When a people rise to claim their destiny, as Russia did, they step into the ancient circle of all who have chosen liberty over ease, responsibility over servitude. Let them not forget, as the ancients would counsel, that freedom’s fire must be fed by truth — for when the truth is forgotten, independence becomes only another chain.

And so, through the voice of Boris Yeltsin, we hear not merely the proclamation of a nation, but the echo of a universal law: that independence, once declared, must forever be defended — not against invaders alone, but against the corruption of the soul. For the truest freedom is not won on the battlefield nor signed on parchment, but lived, day by day, in the conscience of a people who remember what they have overcome, and what they still must become.