The sanctification of the czar contains an important paradox. The image of Nicholas II has undergone a significant evolution in the minds of the Russian people. When the Bolshevik empire collapsed in the early 1990s, the martyred royal family became an eloquent symbol of the struggle against the communists. Russia's people delighted, at that time, in everything that touched upon the czar: his noble face, so unlike the faces of Bolshevik leaders; his love for Alexandra, his wife; and the couple's piety, a feature that was especially important in a country where God's name had not been capitalized for eight decades. By the second half of the 1990s, the image of the last czar was fading fast. Boris Yeltsin revered the czar as an instrument in his struggle against the communists. But the reverential attitude of the authorities had negative consequences for Nicholas II's reputation. People started associating the martyred czar with Russia's widespread poverty, as well as with the thievery of the administration. The nostalgic love for the last czar dwindled, until it became confined to the monarchists. The greatest fallen empire of the 20th century, Russia began to recall its modern creators, imbuing them with new and menacing myths: Lenin, who did not allow the Russian empire to fall apart, and Stalin, who expanded it. Nicholas II now became part of a fresh mythology. The perception of the czar as a victim had lost its charm, and its potency. A new image appeared: Nicholas II as an autocrat, the ruler of an enormous empire, whose banners carried the inscription: "Russia, one and indivisible." This czar was a leader of a mighty army, protected by the prayers of a clergy in showy vestments.