HE WASN’T dead. He hadn’t been ousted in a Kremlin coup. He wasn’t lying low until rival gangs of henchmen slugged it out. Pallid and taciturn but unmistakably alive, Vladimir Putin resurfaced in St Petersburg this week after a mysterious ten-day absence that incited febrile talk of his demise, political or corporeal. None of the wilder speculations seems to have been true; but, tellingly, most seemed plausible in Russia, a country whose citizens are inclined to believe conspiracy theories because power has always been opaque, and because in Moscow there are, in fact, lots of conspiracies.



If a leader is an emblem of a country, so are the stories and rumours it tells itself. And rumours and stories about the leaders themselves may be the most revealing kind. Monarchs whose touch could cure scrofula, semi-divine emperors, deathless Arthurian kings: legends about rulers encapsulate the hopes and dreads of a nation. When—like Mr Putin—they disappear, the fantasises that fill the vacuum say as much about public opinion and political reality as their speeches. Think of the recent submergence of Kim Jong Un of North Korea, variously attributed to violent in-fighting or—in a nod to his malnourished country’s grotesque inequalities—to his risky fondness for Emmental cheese.



If other world leaders were to go into Putinesque hibernation, what imaginings and innuendos might ensue? Here are some ideas:



Barack Obama: Truthers maintain that Mr Obama is secluded with his al-Qaeda handlers, somewhere in the Hindu Kush; Tea Partyers say he is in Cuba, being indoctrinated by his pal Fidel Castro (notice how you never see the two in the same room together?). His former admirers gloomily conclude that he is cloistered in the Oval office, deciding once and for all if the Afghan surge of 2009 was a good idea.



François Hollande: All of France assumes that the president is stuck in an extended tryst with his mistress. Eventually the gendarmerie is asked to look out for an egg-shaped, bespectacled man on a moped. But, after a public outcry, the search for Mr Hollande is called off.



Dilma Rousseff: According to her foes, the president is in Venezuela, gathering tips on turning Brazil into South America’s next Bolivarian paradise (Hugo Chavez is said to bless the visit by appearing to her as a bird, the guise in which the immortal revolutionary sometimes comforts his Venezuelan successor, Nicolás Maduro).



Xi Jinping: As happened when he dipped out of view in 2012, Weibo fills with rumours that Mr Xi has been the victim of an assassination attempt. Weibo is quickly shut down.



David Cameron: His hamstrung coalition government hasn’t done much recently, so it might be a while before anyone realises he is gone. He isn’t missed at international pow-wows over the Middle East or Ukraine, since he doesn’t turn up at those anyway. The few Britons who register his withdrawal assume he is chillaxing or riding someone else’s horse. The penny drops only when Boris Johnson, the super-ambitious mayor of London, wafflingly insists that he is not, repeat not, hoping to fill the vacancy.



Angela Merkel: Mrs Merkel is the world’s indispensable leader. She isn’t allowed to disappear.

Correction: This article was updated on March 19th to correct a misspelling of the word "tryst". Au revoir tristesse.