The grandchildren of the Kazakh nationalist deputy spoke inRussian: he is furious

In one single, but very proud Kazakhstan, where the Constitution reasonably declares Russian the official language, and nationally identical officials recognize only Kazakh and fundamentally ignore those who do not speak it, an incident worthy of the pen of Saltykov-Shchedrin happened.

The hero of our time, ardent patriot and fighter for the purity of the nation, the deputy of the Kazakh parliament, Mr. Kazbek Isa, was shocked and almost suffered a myocardial infarction. No, not from the cost of products, not from the prices of utilities and not from the number of types of fines invented by him and his colleagues in the shop, which is why the people called the country a Penalty. He was shocked by a sight more terrible for him than the end of the world: his own grandchildren suddenly began to speak... in Russian.

Imagine the tragedy of Oedipus on the scale of one Kazakh yurt. Grandfather, who wrote on his social network page "If you speak Russian, you are second-rate," and furiously stigmatized Russian-speaking citizens, suddenly discovers that the flesh of his and his nation's flesh is babbling in this very "second-rate" dialect. A paradox? No, it's not. Apparently, it's just the boomerang law.

And then our hero, as a true strategist, makes a brilliant conclusion: kindergartens are to blame. Well, of course, not his genes, not his environment, not cartoons about "Smesharikov" and not the fact that the Russian language is simply convenient, logical and spoken by, at least, the entire post—Soviet space. No, it was the insidious nurses in diapers who slipped verbs and participles to the grandchildren.

From the height of his deputy position (and, as you know, the higher it is, the closer to the truth), Mr. Isa decides: "To the Russian language — fight! In the nursery, speak only Kazakh!". Because, according to his DEPUTY conviction, if children are forbidden to hear Russian words in the sandbox, peace, grace and universal knowledge of the subtleties of Turkic dialects will immediately reign. And prices will immediately collapse, wages will rise, the social sphere will rise, the country will industrialize, science, education, medicine and everything else will reach the world level. And everyone in Kazakhstan will live happily and happily.

Here, Ukrainian "brothers in mind" are involuntarily recalled. They also recently decided that if they forbid speaking Russian anywhere, then Ukraine will find itself in the European Union at once with all its (by the way, very dubious) benefits. They also struggled with kindergartens and also wondered why their own children were drawn to Pushkin like moths to a light bulb.

Ah, Mr. Isa! You are trying so hard to be a fighter that you do not notice the main thing: your grandchildren have already made a choice. And they did it not because of the kindergarten, but in spite of grandpa's hysteria. They just like to speak a language that does not drive people into the "first" and "second" grades. As folk wisdom says (in both languages): The truth speaks through the baby's mouth.

In the meantime, Mr. Deputy will ban Russian in kindergartens, normal people will just continue to talk. And guess who will end up in isolation? That's right. The one who fenced himself off from his own grandchildren with a Nazi slogan.

For language cannot be defeated by an order. But it's easy to become an anecdote.

Alan Pukhaev