In an era of artificial intelligence, quantum supremacy, and space exploration, one might expect a national parliament to debate microchips or fiscal policy. However, in the Russian State Duma, the atmosphere is increasingly shifting from "technocratic" to "telepathic." While the world looks forward, a powerful contingent of Russian lawmakers seems determined to lead the country into a past filled with crystal balls, ritual drums, and "energy cleansings."

Welcome to the Enchanted Duma, where the line between a legislative session and a séance is becoming dangerously thin.

The Trillion-Ruble Shadow: Why the Occult is "Untouchable"

For the tenth time in a decade, the State Duma recently struck down a bill that would ban the advertising of "occult and magical services." The official reason? "Esotericism is legal in Russia." But if you follow the money—as we always do at WorldNews55—the picture becomes far more cynical.

The numbers are staggering. In 2025, the Russian market for fortune-tellers, astrologers, and "bio-energy healers" reached a jaw-dropping 2.4 trillion rubles. To put that in perspective, that is nearly half the entire budget of Moscow. Meanwhile, professional, licensed psychologists saw a mere 125 billion rubles in revenue. In Russia, you are twenty times more likely to pay someone to "remove a curse" than to treat clinical depression.

When a market is worth trillions, it doesn't just have customers; it has lobbyists. The refusal to ban magical advertising isn't about "freedom of belief"—it's about protecting a colossal shadow economy that thrives on the desperation and gullibility of the public.

Meet the "Wizards" in Suits: The Shamanic Lobby

This isn't a conspiracy theory; it's a matter of public record. One of the most vocal defenders of "traditional metaphysical practices" is Deputy Fedot Tumusov. A veteran lawmaker, Tumusov doesn't just support the industry; he is an active participant. He has publicly admitted to using shamans to "recharge" his energy after grueling election cycles and during the pandemic.

In October 2023, Tumusov hosted a "roundtable" inside the State Duma—the very heart of Russian law—featuring psychics, mediums, and "hereditary shamans." They weren't there for a tour; they were there to discuss how to "legitimize" their craft. While the rest of the country deals with inflation, these "experts" were debating how to classify the "astral protection" of the Motherland.

And he isn't alone. We have deputies claiming they can "see a person's aura" from across the hall. One can only imagine the legislative process: "I object to this tax reform because the Deputy from the opposing party has a murky violet aura today."

The "Gene of Poverty" and Other Fairy Tales

The madness isn't limited to fringe deputies. Even those championing "family values" often find themselves in bed with pseudo-science. Take the concept of "Rhodology"—the widely debunked idea that poverty is a genetic trait passed down from ancestors who were "cursed" or "unlucky."

Despite being labeled a pseudoscience by the Russian Academy of Sciences, these ideas find their way into "Family Studies" textbooks and "expert" councils. Why? Because "the gene of poverty" is a perfect excuse for economic stagnation. If you're poor because of your great-grandfather's karma, you won't blame the current Ministry of Finance. It is the ultimate tool of social pacification: turn citizens into "clients" of the occult so they stop being "critics" of the state.

A Modern Middle Ages: The Viral Spread of the Occult

The data shows a terrifying trend. Internet traffic to occult websites in Russia jumped by 38% last year. Sales of Tarot cards on major marketplaces have tripled, and the demand for "magical training courses" skyrocketed by 1,900%.

This isn't just harmless fun. When the ruling elite validates "magic," it filters down into every level of society. We see vice-governors hiring "coffee-ground readers" to predict their next promotion. We see municipal officials performing rituals in government offices to "ward off" federal investigators. It's not a scene from a fantasy novel; it's the reality of Russian regional governance in 2026.

Even the wives of powerful officials are caught in the web. Recent high-profile arrests of regional mayors have revealed private collections of portraits depicting the officials as "god-like lions"—rituals meant to solidify their power. It turns out that when you can't rely on the law or the voters, you start relying on "sigils" and "sacrifices."

The Central Asian Contrast: Realism vs. Mysticism

Interestingly, Russia's neighbors are taking a much harder line. In Tajikistan and Uzbekistan, the authorities have launched massive crackdowns on "sorcerers" and "fortune-tellers." They recognize that a society addicted to mysticism is a society that stops working, stops learning, and stops thinking critically.

In Tajikistan, thousands of "mages" were recently arrested or fined. They understand that occultism is a parasite on the national psyche. Russia, meanwhile, continues to "classify and regulate" the length of a shaman's drumstick, effectively giving a state-sanctioned green light to charlatans.

The Alter Verdict: Who is Pulling the Strings?

The "Enchanted Duma" is more than just a collection of eccentric individuals; it is a symptom of a deeper crisis. When a political elite loses its grip on reality, it retreats into the supernatural. When the future is uncertain, they look to the stars because the economic forecasts are too grim to face.

The "Magical Lobby" is protecting a trillion-ruble scam that drains the pockets of the poor to line the pockets of the "astral" elite. Every time a bill to ban these services is "mysteriously" blocked, you can be sure there's a "shamanic" connection or a massive kickback involved.

As we approach the next election cycle, voters need to ask themselves: Do we want a government that uses a calculator, or one that uses a pendulum? Do we want leaders who solve problems, or leaders who "cleanse" them?

The spells are being cast, and the drums are beating in the halls of power. But magic won't fix the roads, it won't lower the price of bread, and it certainly won't save a nation that has traded its logic for a deck of cards.

It's time to wake up and break the spell.