Today, I invite you into a world that seems almost unbelievable — a world where powerful men, armed with nuclear weapons and armies, still quietly seek the blessings of shamans and fortune-tellers before making decisions that could change the course of history.
It sounds absurd, almost laughable—until you realize how deeply this belief system is woven into the very fabric of Russia’s ruling elite.
We’ll explore how this hidden world of omens, blessings, and rituals shapes Russia’s leadership — and how a solitary Yakut shaman, armed with nothing but his mystical visions, once triggered a panic in the Kremlin that few outsiders truly understood.
The Roots of Mysticism
Throughout Russian history, mysticism has always been entwined with power. The Russian Empire, the Soviet Union, and modern Russia have all had their share of leaders who believed in the supernatural.
Long before Christianity, Russia’s early pagan traditions were deeply mystical. Forest spirits, household deities, and omens shaped daily life. Even after Christianity took hold, these beliefs merged into Orthodox rituals. Tsars were crowned in elaborate ceremonies that not only symbolized divine right but also invoked a near-magical aura around the ruler. The tsar wasn’t just a king; he was seen as God’s chosen representative on earth. This nearly divine status gained even more meaning when the center of Orthodox Christianity in Byzantium was destroyed by the Ottomans in the 15th century, and thus, the Moscow rulers became the keepers of the true faith.
During Stalin’s era, the official state ideology was staunchly atheist. Religion and mysticism were aggressively suppressed, and those who practiced them often faced persecution. Yet behind closed doors, even senior Soviet officials sought out mystics, psychics, and astrologers. The reason for this was widespread fear and uncertainty. Nobody knew if they would survive the next night without the arrest of themselves or their loved ones. Even Stalin himself, despite his public denouncements of superstition, reportedly consulted seers during World War II. Mystical thinking never disappeared; it simply went underground.
Interestingly, despite the official stance, Soviet authorities secretly funded paranormal research programs. The Cold War competition with the United States extended into psychic experiments, telepathy trials, and mind control projects. Soviet scientists studied “remote viewing” and “telekinesis” under government contracts. Apparently, this happened because the Soviet leaders knew that their archenemy, the US, did the same. Though those projects produced little reliable evidence, the fact that these efforts were undertaken at all speaks volumes about the underlying belief in mystical forces among the elite.
In the chaotic 1990s, following the collapse of the Soviet Union, mysticism exploded into the public sphere. Russian television was flooded with psychics, astrologers, faith healers, and miracle workers. People desperate for guidance in a collapsing world turned to the supernatural in droves. This resurgence normalized mystical thinking across all levels of society, including the new political elites rising from the ruins.
I clearly remember how, at the end of the 1980s, the entire country was glued to their TVs to watch the healing sessions of the self-proclaimed psychic and healer Anatoly Kashpirovsky. He claimed to be a hypnotist and said he could heal viewers through hypnosis. It’s important to note that back then, the entire USSR was watching the same thing because we had only three TV channels, so anyone who appeared on television became instantly famous. Kashpirovsky made his debut on central TV in 1989, at a time when the economy was in shambles. The government thought the main role of television was to calm the people, and Kashpirovsky clearly excelled at that.
Throughout his career, Kashpirovsky developed a distinctive style: black clothes, short black hair with a small fringe. Interestingly, this style was clearly adopted by Russia’s main propagandist today, Vladimir Solovyov. His role is much the same: to hypnotize viewers and tell them that everything is under control.
Kashpirovsky wasn’t alone. Television was constantly showcasing mystics, seers, healers, hypnotists, and more. Half the country would place jars of water in front of the TV when Allan Chumak’s shows aired. He’d wave his hands in front of the camera and move his lips, and people believed that this somehow charged their water, making it healing.
In short, everything that was once discussed privately in kitchens suddenly made its way to television and bookstores. Books on magic, alternative medicine, and esotericism became wildly popular, and they continue to be so to this day.
The Problem of Power
In any state, the question arises: why do certain individuals gain control over vast amounts of power and national resources? This needs to be explained to both oneself and the people. There are several possible explanations:
Divine Right — If you’re part of an ancient royal family, you can rule based on tradition. But with the destruction of the monarchy in Russia, this explanation no longer applies. Of all the rulers who followed, only Lenin came from a modest noble background; the rest were from the lower classes.
Elections — The people vote for you, granting you the right to rule. In Russia, fair elections have never been held, as dangerous candidates are excluded from the voting process, and if necessary, the votes are counted in ways that benefit the authorities.
Appointment — An authoritative and widely respected figure appoints you to rule, recognizing that you truly deserve it. But this applies more to subordinates rather than the supreme leader. Someone has to evaluate you and appoint you.
Personal Authority — This also poses a problem, as Putin has failed to gain the love of the people without using money or force.
Mystical Right — And here, we’re not talking about religion, but about pop culture. The idea that someone is born “chosen” with a mission to fulfill has captivated minds for thousands of years. We can remember the ancient Greek myths of Perseus and Hercules. This narrative moved into reality during Napoleon’s time. Before him, rebels and upstarts claimed legitimacy by declaring themselves descendants of kings or by marrying royal daughters. Napoleon, for a time, relied on the image of the chosen hero but eventually married Marie Louise of Austria, the daughter of the Holy Roman Emperor.
In modern times, we see this narrative in countless films and books, such as the Harry Potter series. However, in order for someone to possess mystical right, there must be a mystical reality around them that separates them from the “Muggles.”
It’s not surprising that Putin and his circle resort to this fifth option because all the others are simply unavailable to them. In their quest to prove their chosenness, entire armies of mystics profit.
Putin’s Mysticism
Vladimir Putin’s generation, raised amid the contradictions of late Soviet life, learned to see power not as public service but as an attribute of being “chosen” — with a life mission that one must fulfill. Many of today’s Russian rulers seized power through force and fraud, and they crave external “signs” to validate their continued legitimacy, to reaffirm that they are still chosen, and therefore have the right to oppress those they see as mere obstacles in the way of the “main characters” of history.
Putin’s background in the KGB, an organization obsessed with secrecy, symbolism, and manipulation, only deepened his reliance on hidden meanings and unseen forces. He surrounds himself with people who reinforce this view of the world. In the months leading up to the full-scale invasion of Ukraine in 2022, Putin’s consultations with mystics reportedly intensified. Some accounts suggest that shamans performed rituals intended to “purify” Putin and shield him from harm. These rituals involved traditional elements like chanting, drumming, animal blood, and ceremonies meant to tap into ancient spiritual forces. Reports indicated that Putin was obsessed with omens and that he delayed and rescheduled military actions based on “energetic alignments” advised by these spiritual counselors. He reportedly sought assurances from shamans that the war would end quickly and favorably, and that Russia’s destiny as a “great power” would be fulfilled.
So, where do these mystics come from? Sometimes, they belong to ancient monasteries that were revered in pre-revolutionary Russia as sacred places. For example, in 2016, Putin visited Mount Athos in Greece, which is considered the center of Orthodox monasticism.
Sometimes mystics are provided by recommendation. Close associates see what the leader wants and supply it. Sergei Shoigu, Putin’s former Defense Minister, who hails from Tuva — a region with strong shamanistic traditions — introduced Putin to various Tuvan and Mongolian shamans.
I can share a story from the mid-1990s. My boss, the owner of the firm where I worked, was in the business of making deals without producing anything tangible. Everything was done through connections, and the ultimate goal was to redirect state money into her pocket.
My boss was married to a KGB colonel, so she shouldn’t have worried much about her safety. Yet, there was always an undercurrent of anxiety, and she took a huge interest in reading horoscopes published in the local newspapers.
At that time, I worked part-time for a newspaper and occasionally wrote those horoscopes. If only I had thought to write: “Capricorns are in for great luck if they increase the salaries of young lawyers.”
Unfortunately, I never figured out how to profit from our boss’s obsession with mysticism, but our accountant certainly did. She was an older woman with a mouthful of gold teeth. At first, she told our boss that she could read palms, but then she got into it, started reading tarot cards, predicting destinies, and soon replaced her gold crowns with white ones and bought a car.
I think Putin’s situation is quite similar, only on a larger scale.
The Shaman’s Journey
The belief in mysticism among Russia’s elites led to a truly incredible story.
In 2019, a man named Alexander Gabyshev, a shaman from Yakutia, set off on foot toward Moscow. His mission was to “exorcise the demon” that he believed had possessed the Kremlin, convinced that Putin was about to bring immense misfortune to Russia. At that time, nobody knew that Putin would start the war in Ukraine.
Gabyshev’s journey began in Yakutsk, one of the coldest inhabited cities on Earth. Braving extreme weather, he set off pulling a simple cart loaded with a tent, supplies, and a hand-painted banner declaring his intent. He carried a drum, his traditional instrument, and relied on the kindness of strangers for food and shelter.
Every day, Gabyshev walked for hours across frozen landscapes and through small towns where life had remained unchanged for decades. In each settlement, people gathered to hear him speak—some out of curiosity, others out of a quiet longing for hope. They listened to his message of restoring moral order and healing the soul of Russia.
Even in the most remote corners of Russia, people have access to phones. They started recording Gabyshev’s videos and sharing them online, and before long, his journey became a sensation. Gabyshev quickly transformed into Russia’s own Forrest Gump. He began his journey alone, but gradually, more and more supporters joined him, walking alongside him on his way to Moscow, covering thousands of kilometers. A cult began to form around him. His movements were followed by countless people, and he was welcomed in cities and villages. People offered him food, helped him in any way they could, and even raised money to buy a minivan for his group to continue their journey.
Reports from police in the regions he passed through show increasing alarm. Authorities described him as a “symbolic threat to stability.” Meetings were held by regional FSB branches to discuss how to monitor his progress without publicly escalating the situation. His ability to tap into something deep and ancient in the Russian psyche worried the regime more than any political activist could.
By September 2019, Gabyshev had traveled over 2,000 kilometers and was nearing the city of Ulan-Ude. That’s when the authorities struck. Masked police surrounded his camp in the dead of night. He was arrested without formal charges, forcibly taken to a psychiatric hospital, and declared mentally ill. His supporters were dispersed, threatened, and in some cases, arrested.
Gabyshev remains in the psychiatric clinic to this day. The authorities dare not kill him, as it is a grave sin in their belief system to kill a shaman. It’s far safer to keep him locked away, preventing him from performing the ritual to rid Russia of Putin.
Historical Echoes
Putin’s reliance on mystical validation is not a unique phenomenon. Throughout history, insecure rulers have turned to mystics and prophets to legitimize their reigns.
Ivan the Terrible sought visions from holy men to justify his brutal purges. Tsar Nicholas II placed his trust in Rasputin, a mystic whose influence ultimately discredited the monarchy and hastened its fall.
The Kremlin’s reaction to Gabyshev revealed something they rarely show: fear. Not fear of NATO or protesters with signs. Fear of a challenge to the spiritual narrative that underpins their entire power structure. The public image of Putin is that of the “lucky one,” someone who always manages to escape trouble. Why? Because higher forces have chosen him for something greater. That is why he holds unimaginable power and the right to control resources he never truly earned.
But deep down, Putin and his cronies know the truth: Their power rests not on love, or law, or legitimacy. It rests on force, fear, and fraud. Once the belief in their cracks, collapse can be sudden and catastrophic. History is filled with such moments. Mussolini’s regime in Italy collapsed almost overnight when his myth of invincibility shattered. Ceaușescu’s Romania dissolved in mere days. Once the security forces sensed that their leader was no longer the “chosen one,” loyalty evaporated.
Throughout history, symbols have proven to be more potent than weapons in toppling rulers.
Symbols bypass the logical mind, speaking directly to emotion, loyalty, and identity. A speech can be debated; an image cannot. An army can be confronted; but a crumbling statue, a defeated ritual, a broken myth quietly enters the collective unconscious, often without resistance.
Symbols are dangerous because they cannot be easily controlled. That’s why a lone shaman’s journey could strike so deeply.
The Girl from a Labyrinth
Since today we’ve focused more on alternate realities rather than just history, I’d like to share a little about my novel, The Girl from a Labyrinth. It’s a dark fantasy with a humorous twist, and I had so much fun writing it.
The story revolves around a young queen who loathes being both a ruler and the spiritual leader of her nation. All she wants is wild adventures and crazy love. She secretly saves money, preparing to escape the palace. But the gods heard her prayers—though not in the way she expected. She loses her crown in a coup and is forced to go to extreme lengths to save a young man, accused of her murder, who just so happens to be a descendant of a famous pirate clan. And he’s unbelievably attractive, even to a queen.
The book is packed with cool concepts, strange monsters, futuristic settings, dragons, and an ancient ghost with an inflated ego—everything that we love in books.
