The Mad Prophet of Chuvilkinsky Hill
A Brief History of Porfiry Ivanov and His "Detka"
Author: Sergey Tashevsky
In the spring of 2022, Russian troops, in what they call fierce fighting, entered the Ukrainian village of Orekhovka—a small village in the Luhansk region with a population (before the war) of 1500. They spared no shells in their ferocity, and the population of Orekhovka dwindled several times over. Some streets were now replaced by the ruins and skeletons of houses, as in many towns and villages captured by the "valiant" army. And no one now knows how many shells fell on the hill near the village, known as Chuvilkinsky Hill, or whether anything remains on the site where the house (or, according to some sources, a dugout) of miner Korney Ivanov and his family stood in the late 19th century. And it was there, in a poor mining village, that the "Russian yogi" Porfiry Ivanov was born, who decades later became a legendary teacher, preacher, and founder of one of the most famous Soviet sects—the "Ivanovites." An exceptional man! However, at the end of his life, he didn't feel like a man. More like a god.
Meanwhile, Porfiry's life began quite ordinary, not at all divine. He was born in 1898 to a large miner's family, where even without him, the benches were already cramped—eight brothers and sisters barely fit into one room. Understandably, no one prepared them for university, and four years of parochial school, where Porfiry Korneevich barely learned to read and write, became the pinnacle of his education. At 12, he was already sent to work as a farm laborer, and three years later, he was locked in a cage for the first time and lowered into a coal face. The Donbass offered no other work or other fate for the poor.
But then the Great War broke out, and the "old order" crumbled across Russia. Porfiry was directly affected: in 1917, he was drafted into the army. He was a strong, wiry man, young, unmarried, and with an average last name. What could he be if not "cannon fodder"? Ivanov didn't much argue with this thesis: it made no difference to him whether he died in the mines or at the front. However, he didn't die: barely had he reached the theater of war when the spectacle was over. There was an armistice, a revolution in Petrograd, and then the Treaty of Brest-Litovsk. The soldiers sold their rifles and ammunition and rode home on passing trains. Porfiry, too.
But he returned home a "front-line soldier," a distinguished man, not a weakling from the coal mine. Moreover, from the war, for which he had been late, Porfiry brought back not only an army canteen, greatcoat, and bayonet, but also an outrageous arrogance. He behaved defiantly, smoked tobacco, drank moonshine, played cards, spent his nights in taverns and at dances, got into drunken brawls, and quickly became one of the village's leading hooligans. And girls love such men! So soon, unexpectedly to himself, Porfiry found himself married and began producing children on an assembly line. The beautiful Ulyana bore him Andrei and Yakov. They had a family. And a family needs to be fed!
At first, Porfiry speculated in vodka, engaged in small-scale business, and even earned some money, but he lost everything at cards. It was a passion he couldn't control. Card debts—a sacred thing!—were dragging the entire Ivanov family down into the abyss, as the father often had to pay for his son's losses. But in 1928, Porfiry joined the party, allegedly because, after returning from the front, he had fought as a "guerrilla" in the Petliurite rear, and the communists recognized his services. He either derailed a train or lurked in the woods in ambush… He was clearly incapable of business. He had no education. So, he belonged to the same class!
But Porfiry didn't last long in the All-Union Communist Party (Bolsheviks), either, because the Party oversight assigned him to a position of great responsibility. He worked as a butcher in the state-owned butcher shop in the city of Krasny Sulin, where Ivanov had moved with his wife and children. Thanks to Stalin, who had "strangled" the New Economic Policy (NEP), by 1928 Russia was entering a period of famine and shortages, and the butcher shop was a veritable Eldorado for Porfiry. Selling on the side brought in excellent profits. But it wasn't for nothing that his Party card stated that he was "incapable of commerce"! A shortage of meat products soon became apparent, and, barely managing to part with his Party card and kiss his wife, who cursed him, Porfiry was sent to a logging camp near Arkhangelsk. He was sentenced to two years in a labor camp under Article 169 of the then Criminal Code—"fraud."
But even though he'd been expelled from the party, he remained "one of the class." That included the camp authorities. So Ivanov spent only 11 months in the logging camp and returned home early, on parole. There was no work at home, no money, detectives peered into his windows in the evenings, and the police had either exterminated or "reforged" all his fellow gamblers, so the town was so depressing you could cut it to shreds. He was just over thirty, and almost all his former acquaintances were long dead. Some had become alcoholics, some had been shot by a policeman, and some had died in the Civil War, defending that very bright future that now belonged to Porfiry alone. And one evening, reflecting on his not-so-happy life, he wondered: why, exactly, do people die? From what? And then it dawned on him: the cause of all illness and death lies in one thing—man's separation from nature. If we were to return to nature, then death would no longer exist.
Why did someone from a mining town (where streams of acid flow from coal waste heaps into this very nature during rain) suddenly start thinking about returning to nature, like some Rousseau? Well, he'd just seen enough of it near Arkhangelsk, in a logging camp, and the cold taiga nature stunned him. It was there that he first discovered his amazing ability. It turned out his body wasn't afraid of cold, even the most severe frost. He didn't freeze at all and could strip to the waist while others were freezing their noses and fingers! Now biologists claim this ability is linked to special genes that activate fat cells, and, although rare, it does occur (for example, among the Inuit of Greenland). But back then, for Porfiry, it was a clear sign that he was the chosen one. As a medium and prophet, revealing the powers of nature for the sake of the immortality of the human body.
This became the foundation of his teaching, which Ivanov is said to have devised on April 25, 1933, at the age of 35 (a little older, of course, than the age when Christ preached, but then again, this wasn't Palestine...). And for his age, he was a man of some repute. Tall, strong, stately, well-spoken, a moderate drinker, and with a criminal record already expunged.
This, in brief, is the first part of the biography of the prophet.
It may not be accurate, as it's compiled from his own words and the recollections of both ardent admirers and detractors (any prophet always has plenty of those). Much, of course, is conjecture. But we know much more and more accurately about Porphyry's subsequent life, since it, as they say, "passed into the public domain." This happened somehow naturally, since he had a thoroughly biblical appearance. A handsome, athletic man, nearly two meters tall, with a full beard. How could anyone ignore such a thing?
Seeing him serenely walking naked and barefoot through the snow "as if on dry land," his wife believed in him, then the neighbors, and then word of him reached Rostov. Soon, mysterious and scandalous healings began to appear. Since the churches had long been in ruins and the miraculous relics were inaccessible, Porfiry somehow almost automatically took their place. Only—alive. Without any relics.
He exuded a sense of health—and he sincerely wanted to impart it to others. After all, if illnesses can be transmitted from person to person, why shouldn't health be transmitted too? And, most astonishingly, he succeeded! For example, in the winter of 1934 (and this is a documented fact), his touch healed a paralyzed woman who hadn't walked for 17 years. Of course, for former saints, such healings were mere "peanuts." But where were they, those saints, under Soviet rule? And in their place now stood Porfiry, naked, wearing only his underwear, his powerful torso, standing in a cloud of steam amidst snowdrifts—preaching his simple teachings. He said one should not drink, not smoke (he himself actually quit, to the delight of his wife), help one's neighbors, and walk barefoot every day. Just like your Leo Tolstoy, despite being illiterate! And crowds of followers were already gathering around him...
That's how the police met him at the Rostov market in January 1935. They "accepted" Porfiry, and because he was promoting something, they, out of habit, began to charge him with "anti-Soviet agitation and propaganda." The NKVD had no other options at the time, and everyone, from a lathe operator to a professor, confessed to anti-Soviet propaganda. But not Ivanov. He responded by attempting to convey the essence of his teachings to the investigators and force them to wear underwear. He was probably close to success, because just three days later, he was transferred from the Rostov pretrial detention center to a "psychiatric hospital," where he found far more appreciative listeners in white coats. Ivanov spent six months there and received a diagnosis—an almost unattainable one for someone with a fourth-grade education: schizophrenia. Along with it, he received disability, a pension, and a "white ticket."
The latter, five years later, when the war began, proved very useful. All his neighbors, even the lame and cross-eyed, were drafted to the front (and likely few returned). His two sons were also drafted. But the healthy, almost two-meter-tall giant, Porfiry Ivanov, remained with his family in the town of Krasny Sulin, near Rostov.
It must be said that his popularity grew rapidly over these years—and at the same time, he refined his system, with which, seriously, he truly wanted to achieve physical immortality. In his opinion, this required giving up familiar comfort, because it is precisely by striving for warmth and satiety that a person receives both illness and death. Instead of satiety—dieting and fasting. Instead of comfort—walking barefoot and without unnecessary clothing. And, of course, creating and thinking only good thoughts: eradicating greed, laziness, complacency, acquisitiveness, fear, hypocrisy, and pride. Porfiry recorded all these simple ideas in his diary (by the end of his life, he had accumulated 250 notebooks, filled with barely legible handwriting). He was a poor writer, so his entries were somewhat clumsy, but for many, this clumsiness still holds a certain higher, "homespun" truth.
As before, he quietly preached his doctrine, secretly healed the sick, and strolled in the freezing cold in his underwear, his walks now lasting hours. Everyone somehow got used to him, and only the women secretly (so as not to be noticed by the Komsomol members and the party organizer) crossed themselves when he appeared on the city streets.
But for the Germans who captured Krasny Sulin in late 1941, Porfiry's appearance on their victorious path seemed astonishing. At first, they began testing and goading him in every way possible, burying him in the snow, dousing him with water in the freezing cold. To their great surprise, the Russian giant was unfazed. He laughed and suggested they strip to their underwear and fall together into the embrace of the Russian frost. It is said that one of the officers suggested an experiment—throwing him, like that Russian demon "Herr Rasputin," into an ice hole and then seeing what would happen. But upon learning of this "Russian phenomenon," General Ewald von Kleist himself issued Porfiry a "safe conduct," declaring that his natural abilities required careful study by scientists of the Third Reich.
This, as we know, didn't work out—instead of the German scientists, the Red Army returned to Krasny Sulin, and the phenomenon of Porfiry Ivanov remained without a scientific explanation. But instead of scientists, the NKVD soon took a renewed interest in Porfiry. In 1951, he was arrested, and since the investigators still had no new ideas, they again tried to convict him under the article "anti-Soviet agitation and propaganda." And again, nothing came of it. The Soviet repressive system, confronted with Porfiry Ivanov's system, invariably cracked and gave in. Ultimately, he was once again sent for compulsory treatment—fortunately, the USSR had made remarkable progress in punitive psychiatry during these years. There were already three prison-type psychiatric hospitals under the USSR Ministry of Internal Affairs—in Leningrad, Chistopol, and Kazan. Ivanov visited all three, spending about a year in each. The doctors were delighted to see him: finally, they'd brought in a real madman, not some dissenters or malingerers! Many even began to show interest in his hardening system and secretly went barefoot into the snow (which is why Ivanov had to be transferred to the next medical facility). Porfiry took all this without much drama, obediently swallowing handfuls of pills and continuing to lecture the junior medical staff and his fellow patients.
He was finally released in 1954, so as not to endanger the psyche of doctors and patients. He returned home with the aura of a martyr, a quality that befits any saint and prophet, and his flock began to grow by leaps and bounds in the late 1950s. Moreover, the Thaw had begun, and now no one really knew who was crazy and who wasn't, and who could be reported and who shouldn't.
This "incomprehensible" situation continued in the USSR for almost ten years, and during this time, Porfiry Ivanov lived with relative impunity. He preached, wrote a diary (though he didn't make much progress in his writings), and hardened himself and others. Incidentally, it turned out that, although his teachings were quite harmful from a medical standpoint (pneumonia and bronchitis were a constant occurrence among Ivanov's followers), the icy procedures actually had a beneficial effect on some followers. A circle of these hardy "walruses" formed around him, which the KGB soon began to regard (oh my God, no new ideas!) as an anti-Soviet organization.
In the spring of 1964, Porfiry was arrested again and, almost automatically, transferred from the KGB to the Serbsky Institute for psychiatric evaluation. The psychiatrists unanimously said, "Aha!" (Ivanov's schizophrenia had always been textbook) and locked him up for another four years, first in the Kazan Specialized Hospital of the Ministry of Internal Affairs, and then in Rostov. He was released only in 1968, already a true legend.
It's amazing how the KGB repeatedly enhanced Porfiry Ivanov's image with charisma. In the eyes of his followers, he wasn't just someone persecuted for the truth, but a true conqueror of the system! Well, now they couldn't do anything about him. He had become a literal god. In 1971, on the farm of Verkhniy Kondryuchy in the Luhansk region, not far from his hometown, Ivanov's students built the so-called "Teacher's House," where Porfiry lived and received people.
Upper Kondryuchy!
Perfect title.
But Porfiry Ivanov probably already felt a little differently about his immortality. He was still experiencing some discomfort and had some doubts about his own eternal life. Besides, some smart people introduced him to the idea of reincarnation, and he liked it. Fine. He'd have to change his body. But where?
It's obvious where. In his homeland! In Orekhovka. It was there that Porfiry founded his new temple—the Chuvilkin Hill. A place like any other, but the "Russian yogi," with the help of his followers (intelligent people, indeed—engineers, associate professors, PhDs!), immediately discovered magnetic anomalies, secret magma chambers, and everything else that the magazine "Science and Life" so fashionably wrote about. Ivanov's rebirth ritual was to be performed on this hill. They were planning to attend the birth of one of his followers there—and the resulting boy, according to Porfiry, would become immortal. Tents were pitched, a crowd of followers gathered… But the police intervened during the ritual, and the Teacher was sent back to Kondryuchy, under house arrest, and the woman in labor was sent to the maternity hospital. Incidentally, they say she ultimately gave birth to a girl…
The KGB officers watched this whole orgy with sadness, but were already afraid to interfere. Or perhaps they simply didn't want to. After all, Porfiry Ivanov's sect was becoming increasingly popular, and it was being talked about in Moscow and Leningrad. Pamphlets reprinting Ivanov's teachings and hymns gradually supplanted Solzhenitsyn's "The Gulag Archipelago" in samizdat. However, unlike the Nobel laureate, Porfiry Ivanov was often laconic, distilling the essence of his teachings to brief theses. Or, sometimes, to verses, like church psalms, in which he spoke of himself with all his characteristic modesty:
“People believed in the Lord as God,
And He himself came to us on Earth.
Death as such will be driven out,
And Life will lead to glory.
Where will people come from on this Hill,
They will speak the Word loudly:
This is our heavenly place,
“Man’s glory is immortal!”
And this psalm was heard by Soviet journalists.
In 1982, as if on cue from the Pied Piper, defying all fears and prohibitions, two correspondents from Ogonyok magazine traveled to Verkhniy Kondryuchy. They spent three days with Ivanov. And after heated editorial debates over how to publish such a story while Soviet power was still in force (they had to mention Marx in the commentary, of course!), they finally published the essay. "An Experiment That Lasted Half a Century" in a journal published in millions of copies for all the republics of the USSR. From that moment on, Porfiry's fame became nationwide. And he took advantage of it to formulate his system once again in 12 theses, which he called "Babe"Under this name, reproduced on photocopiers, rotary printers, computers, and other homemade "samizdat" presses, it "went to the people" to briefly become perhaps the most popular philosophical and religious teaching on one-sixth of the earth's surface.
"Baby" was his favorite word, the one he used (and, toward the end of his life, moaned) to his followers. He used it appropriately and inappropriately. It was, of course, a kind word. And the system he devised was also, in essence, kind. Be closer to nature, don't lie, don't envy, don't get angry. Renounce worldly goods. Strengthen your body. And live. Live. Live forever.
Porfiry Ivanov himself didn't live forever. He died in 1983, at the age of 85. Not bad for a man who spent 12 years in prisons and psychiatric hospitals and never once sought medical attention. He was buried there, on the farm of Verkhniy Kondryuchy, in the Luhansk region, and (at his request, so as not to pay tribute to his death) there wasn't even a cross over his grave. Just a mound of earth. However, now, during a war that destroys houses and gravestones alike, that might be better. Thousands of pilgrims, his followers, once came there. In all the major cities, the "little children" doused themselves and their children with cold water and walked barefoot in the snow. Now there are fewer of them. One could say there are almost none left.
The madness is dying down. And the flow of pilgrims to his homeland, now called by the strange letters "LNR," has almost completely dried up.
Other concerns: war.
However, who turned out to be the real madman in the end is a big question.
