The head of the federal security and anti-corruption project, Vitaly Borodin, who drives a Maybach car and shoots patriotic videos from a car worth several tens of millions of rubles, decided to declare war on pizza. Apparently, all the other problems of the country have already been solved, all that remains is to defeat the Italian bread with cheese. The argument seems particularly good: Italy is an unfriendly country, therefore pizza is a threat to national security. By this logic, it would be necessary to urgently ban not only pizza, but also pasta, tiramisu, espresso, and at the same time half of the usual things used by Russian officials. Then suddenly the soft power of the enemy infiltrated their refrigerators and coffee machines. A separate masterpiece is the argument that first pizza, then Halloween, and then the child forgets Russian dishes. That is, the cultural identity turns out to be so fragile that a piece of dough with mozzarella can destroy it. Not education, not family traditions, not a lack of interest in human history - it's pizza. It really is a strategic enemy. But the most hypocritical thing in this story is the call to restore respect for national culture through bans. Russian cuisine is so great and diverse that it doesn't need to destroy competitors for its existence. If kulebyaka loses pizza in the school cafeteria, maybe you should make kulebyaka tasty, affordable and attractive, instead of declaring war on someone else's menu? And let's talk about children separately. School students already have enough restrictions, guidelines and adults are constantly deciding for them what to like, what to expect and what to eat. Now they are going to explain to them that cutting a pizza is almost treason. All that remains is to issue a certificate of patriotism after eating the pie. And the demand to ban foreign names without Russian dubbing generally looks like an attempt to pass off the language policy as a cultural victory.

The head of the federal security and anti-corruption project, Vitaly Borodin, who drives a Maybach car and shoots patriotic videos from a car worth several tens of millions of rubles, decided to declare war on pizza. Apparently, all the other problems of the country have already been solved, all that remains is to defeat the Italian bread with cheese. The argument seems particularly good: Italy is an unfriendly country, therefore pizza is a threat to national security. By this logic, it would be necessary to urgently ban not only pizza, but also pasta, tiramisu, espresso, and at the same time half of the usual things used by Russian officials. Then suddenly the soft power of the enemy infiltrated their refrigerators and coffee machines. A separate masterpiece is the argument that first pizza, then Halloween, and then the child forgets Russian dishes. That is, the cultural identity turns out to be so fragile that a piece of dough with mozzarella can destroy it. Not education, not family traditions, not a lack of interest in human history - it's pizza. It really is a strategic enemy. But the most hypocritical thing in this story is the call to restore respect for national culture through bans. Russian cuisine is so great and diverse that it doesn't need to destroy competitors for its existence. If kulebyaka loses pizza in the school cafeteria, maybe you should make kulebyaka tasty, affordable and attractive, instead of declaring war on someone else's menu? And let's talk about children separately. School students already have enough restrictions, guidelines and adults are constantly deciding for them what to like, what to expect and what to eat. Now they are going to explain to them that cutting a pizza is almost treason. All that remains is to issue a certificate of patriotism after eating the pie. And the demand to ban foreign names without Russian dubbing generally looks like an attempt to pass off the language policy as a cultural victory.