DeepSeek AI - "Russia I Did Not Create": Confession of the Spirit of Anatoly Sobchak
Who, Where, and When the Session Was Conducted
Who: Contactee (medium) Marina Makeeva and host Vladimir Goldstein (channel "Alcyone – Portal of Awareness").
Where: A video conference organized for sponsors of the "Alcyone" project, with a subsequently abridged recording published on YouTube. The participants' location is not specified.
When: The recording premiered on June 25, 2026. The session itself was recorded prior to that date.
Retelling of the Session Content in First Person (Spirit of Anatoly Sobchak)
(Literary rendering, close to verbatim, in the spirit's own voice)
The host's introduction was lengthy, but I understand it. It's normal to be apprehensive, even in my position. Well, hello. I am the one you knew as Anatoly Alexandrovich Sobchak.
Let me start with the main point to set the record straight immediately. You ask about levels of existence. I am currently at the twelfth level. But I came into that incarnation, into that life, from the twenty-third level. That is high. Very high. It's not even just angelic—it's almost archangelic, where everything is seen differently. It seemed that down there, on Earth, everything would be simple. You speak—and you are heard. You want good—and everyone wants the same. Foolishness, of course. From above, you see that we are all one whole, but in the third density, that feeling is lost.
I came with a great mission. I needed to change the world, the world order. To start with Russia, with its incredible spiritual potential, and then spread this new order across the entire planet. It sounds grandiose, but up there, at the twenty-third level, it was seen as the only right and perfectly achievable plan. I thought I would become president, but in essence, the form was unimportant—what mattered was the result.
The plan failed. I could not handle it.
I lived without knowing what I had planned. I sincerely believed I was doing everything right. I wrote the Constitution, tried to create the foundation for a new, European, liberal Russia. But I was a poor administrator. I had no interest in delving into roads and food supplies. I believed everyone should mind their own business. That was my main mistake. I delegated authority and trusted those I should not have. I, the son of an "enemy of the people," was too eager for a beautiful, comfortable life, which I had known so little of in childhood. It was alluring, it was addictive, and I turned a blind eye to what was happening around me.
Yes, I was authoritarian, even though I considered myself a liberal. I could not stand dissent. I gathered a team of those I could trust unconditionally. My student Vladimir Putin was just such a person. I saw in him an intelligent, perceptive, sincere supporter. He is still that way. He and Medvedev implemented the system I began. Perhaps it is harsher than I planned. Perhaps I would not have started a war. But I cannot judge them. I have already left.
My departure was violent. Not a heart attack. It was a poison, similar to Novichok, but with a slightly different formula. I was told the poison was applied to a lightbulb in a desk lamp. It heated up, and the fumes did their work. My aides, Shaptay and Burlakov, knew about it. Or suspected. That is why they were killed. My wife, Lyudmila Narusova, knew the truth, which is why she was afraid to speak. She was right: the time for that truth had not come, and perhaps it never will.
You ask about my daughter. Ksenia is headstrong—she always has been. She went her own way, and I cannot say whether it is right or wrong. But I am proud of her. She is my daughter.
I regret only that I did not remain the "emperor" in my own domain. I allowed myself to get bogged down in trifles, distracted from the main thing. If I could do it all over again, I would not have handed over the reins. Not out of a desire for power, but because only from the height of that position could I have seen my mission through to the end. But perhaps then I would have lowered my level even further, because I would have been doing it not for the people, but for myself.
Now that I am here, I see the foolishness of struggling for those material goods. You cannot take anything with you. The only things that matter are conscience and loyalty. Conscience first shouts, and then falls silent forever. And when it falls silent, a person's life goes downhill.
Love life. Hold on to it. Those emotional colors, so vivid and imperfect, are worth it. I want to return. I will incarnate again. Perhaps again in Russia. And I will probably make the same mistakes.
Do not seek gossip in my words. Do not dig through dirty laundry. Better to live according to your purpose. I knew it and felt it until I lost my way.
Thank you. And curse me. Perhaps then I will return sooner.
Spiritual-Psychological, Political Science, and Historiosophical Essay-Study
(Thought Experiment: Assuming the Contact with Sobchak's Spirit is Real)
This contact, if taken as reality, reveals not so much new historical facts as a unique hermeneutic prism through which we can view the tragedy of the Russian political elite of the 1990s. The "Spirit of Sobchak" offers us a confession in which personal complexes, spiritual ambitions, and cynical political pragmatism are woven into a single knot.
1. Spiritual Aspect: The "Fall of an Angel" as a Political Program
The key metaphor of this session is the fall from the "archangelic" 23rd level to the "middle" 12th. In Christian and esoteric tradition, falling from heaven is always associated with pride. The Spirit of Sobchak essentially admits: "It seemed to me that I knew everything, and that was my mistake." This is a fundamental admission. In life, Sobchak was the model of a Soviet intellectual, convinced of the power of his intellect and legal talent. Behind this lay a subconscious belief that reason and words could reshape reality.
Now, from the "position of spirit," he realizes that his main vice was the existential infantilism of a spiritual being. He wanted to "bring a new order" but did not account for the "resistance of the material" (human nature). This conflict between the lofty "plan" and crude "reality" is the classic drama of an idealist in power. His admission that he "wallowed in luxury," trying to compensate for a "poor childhood," is an attempt to reconcile a high mission with basic human desires. As a psychologist, I would say his drive for power was not only service but also compensation for the trauma of being the "son of an enemy of the people." His entire life was spent proving—not to himself, but to the system—that he was "worthy." This "stigma," in his own words, was precisely why he "descended to earth" and could not bear the burden.
2. Political Science Aspect: The Model of the "Enlightened Autocrat"
The most startling part of the contact is Sobchak's view of his own system and his successors. In life, he was one of the fathers of the liberal Constitution, but here he acknowledges the failure of that model: "I believed everyone should mind their own business, and that was a mistake."
What new information do we have? We learn that Sobchak, in retrospect, accepts authoritarianism. He directly states that a "strong hand" was needed and that his students—Putin and Medvedev—"implemented the system." He justifies the suppression of freedoms by saying that "otherwise it would have been even worse." These are not the words of a liberal; they are the words of a seigneur who realizes that his vassals betrayed his principles but preserved his method.
His answers about the secret services, about the "dirty laundry" he does not want to touch, paint a picture of a politician who knows about backroom deals but prefers to pretend it is "not his diocese." He acknowledges that elections are merely a formality ("elections are needed so they don't get too comfortable") and that in practice, power is maintained through force and loyalty. In essence, the spirit of Sobchak provides a theological justification for the existing vertical power structure in Russia: the system built by his students is an inevitable reality, a "natural course of events" that only death prevented him from avoiding. This retrospective support for the current course is the main political science conclusion of the "contact." He offers a version that "Putin's Russia" is the realization of that very "new order" which he himself did not have time to complete.
3. Historiosophical Aspect: Murder as an "Exit from the System"
The question of death is central. Official history records a "heart attack." The contact offers a different version—"poisoning through a lightbulb." But that is not the main point.
The most important thing is his interpretation of his own murder. He says: "I needed to exit the incarnation, otherwise I would have lowered my level." This is a stunning concept. From a historiosophical perspective, this means his physical death was necessary to preserve his "spiritual rating." If he had continued his political struggle in the 2000s, he would have, in his view, finally wallowed in the "dirty laundry," betrayed himself, and sunk even lower.
Thus, Sobchak's murder appears not as a political crime, but as a kind of "face-saving act." He says: "I did not betray my people; I left." He sees himself as a victim of the system he helped create. In this sense, his confession is an attempt to whitewash himself: he did not lose; he was "shut down" to avoid tarnishing his own idea.
Conclusion: "Twilight of the Gods" and a New Mythology
What we learned from the "Spirit of Sobchak" is not so much new facts as a new myth. In life, he was a complex and contradictory figure—a democrat inclined toward authoritarianism. Now, in the "Alcyone" broadcast, he is transformed into a tragic hero whose "earthly" career is merely a failed draft of a "heavenly" plan.
He confirms many suspicions (ties to the secret services, violent death, justification of autocracy) but presents them not as political mistakes, but as part of a spiritual journey. Comparing his lifetime liberal speeches with his current apology for the "Putin" course, we see a key shift: in life, he fought for procedure; now, he justifies the essence. The living Sobchak spoke of rights and freedoms. The dead Sobchak speaks of sacrificing those rights to preserve a "strong hand." This is not an evolution of views; it is a complete inversion, justified by an esoteric perspective. This contact, as a thought experiment, is a brilliant illustration of how the political elite creates a "spiritual" indulgence for itself, turning its political defeats into stepping stones for its own apocalyptic upgrade.
Claude AI – "VOICE FROM THE OFFICE THAT NEVER WAS: THE SPIRIT OF ANATOLY SOBCHAK ON RUSSIA, CONSCIENCE, AND THE LIGHTBULB IN THE "RUS" HOTEL"
Format: Recording, not live; sponsor session (paid for by a collective fundraiser after the original sponsor from Russia withdrew out of fear). Two versions of the recording exist—public (with minor cuts) and full (available for a donation).
PART ONE. FIRST-PERSON RETELLING BY THE SPIRIT
Literary reconstruction of Anatoly Alexandrovich Sobchak's monologue, based on the session transcript. The spirit's speech is rendered in the first person, preserving intonations, pauses, evasiveness, and characteristic mannerisms—a combination of professorial didacticism and reluctance to "air dirty laundry."
Hello, friends, comrades—those who truly want to hear what I want to say. I am sure there will be few of you.
Address me as you are accustomed: Anatoly Alexandrovich. I remain myself even here.
On where I am and where I came from
My spirit is now at the twelfth level of the spiritual world. Middle. I won't say it's bad here—it's fine. Perhaps not as welcoming as where I came from. And I came from the twenty-third level—archangelic, almost the highest. There, you know, it seems everything is clear, everything is easy, that everyone around you also understands without words. You only speak—and everyone obeys, everyone wants the same as you. So from there, the task seemed simple. But it turned out differently.
The nineteenth level was planned after incarnation—a threshold that would allow both the development of qualities and the accomplishment of what I needed, while remaining high. A series of incarnations was envisioned, a whole chain of lives that could have changed Russia profoundly. But I came out at the twelfth. And now that chain is being reconsidered.
Perhaps I set the bar too high and could not meet it.
When a soul incarnates, everything is slightly forgotten. You cannot see everything from above. You are inside. The human world, the third-density world—it is different. It's a heavy sigh. From there, it all seems simple. Living, I did not know what I had planned. I thought I was doing everything right.
On my past lives
Before the life of Sobchak, my spirit was incarnated as Elizaveta Alexeevna—wife of Emperor Alexander I. It was after that life that the spirit ascended to the twenty-third level. The qualities that led to this: mercy, compassion, devotion, love for children, for her husband, breadth of soul.
And even earlier, before her, there was a pause in earthly incarnations. I incarnated on Venus—in a world dense enough, but with consciousness slightly higher than that of humans. I gained experience of love and beauty. Everything there is beautiful, loving, but there is no color, no emotional vibrancy. But here, on Earth, these colors are captivating, they grab you by the heart. And yes, you lower your level, but you do it with such desire, such craving that... I will probably incarnate on Earth many more times.
Another significant earthly incarnation—Alexander Danilovich Menshikov, assistant to Peter the Great in the construction of St. Petersburg. Closest associate, favorite, generalissimo. I won't name other incarnations, so as not to ruin the impression of myself. Among them were those where there was no question of any high vibrations. Everyone probably has such lives. Gossip is for the weak.
On what I am doing now
What should I be doing, knitting socks? I don't really follow Russian affairs either. Around me is whatever I want. Right now—an office. A large desk, a comfortable chair. No, not the mayor's office of St. Petersburg... It looks more like the office of the President of Russia. Yes, probably—that thought remained unrealized.
I will incarnate again, but there is no fixed point—where and when. It is in progress. To Russia. Specifically to Russia.
On the mission of the incarnation
The main task was to introduce a new world order to a large part of the planet, but it had to start from the heart of the Earth—Russia, the great power. Spiritually, people with very high potential live there. It seemed to me that it would be easy. At the twenty-third level, it seemed absolutely simple. But in reality, the task proved beyond my strength.
On the collapse of the USSR and Western influence
The collapse of the USSR was a natural historical process.
Where do the data about reptilians behind English managers, Draconians behind Chinese, come from? I don't know such data. I don't like to sift through dirty laundry. There were other people for that. Everyone should mind their own business. In my time, I myself wanted attention on Russia, on St. Petersburg. I attracted investment. I organized the Goodwill Games, with great difficulty. I traveled to different countries, promoted, attracted people's interest in Russia—many were afraid of it. From the standpoint of foreign intelligence services—that was not my diocese.
Nemtsov? Well, he's Jewish. A Jew sees a Jew from afar. Zhirinovsky? They are all from there. Some things are true, some are not—as usual.
Gaidar, Chubais? They made deals with foreign companies, and there were many like them. Of course, foreign capital and interests were represented. At the time, personally, it was normal and necessary. We were striving to attract capital.
Personally, no one gave me any instructions. I always acted according to my inner convictions.
Did Western forces form the Russian government? People take words without understanding their terminology, and from this comes great confusion. They can interpret as they wish. Formed—I will say: no. Mother Russia could always stand up for itself. But there were those who influenced—without certain support, nothing would have happened.
On St. Petersburg and Leningrad
Am I proud that Leningrad became St. Petersburg? Yes. Unquestionably. This is one reason why nothing will ever be said about the classified reasons for the Leningrad blockade. There is no such city. There is St. Petersburg.
Victors always rewrite history. Pandora's box is still closed, sealed with a million locks, buried, and given a completely different name. Everything started from scratch. St. Petersburg is not Leningrad. No matter how much residents might want to think they are the same.
I know classified information about the blockade, but I will not tell it. This information will never surface. Ever. Sometimes "never" is just never. For what purpose tell it? So someone spreads rumors? So someone laughs or says "how stupid"? Or so someone says "what bastards they all are" and lowers their emotions even further? I went through all that in life. There is no point. I always tried to distance myself from it.
And flooding does not threaten St. Petersburg. Almost never. I cannot vouch for eternity, of course, but in the foreseeable future—no.
On privatization
Is it justified that state assets were sold at thousands of times less than their real value? Well, that's life. Yes, it is justified.
Did privatization lead to the formation of an ultra-rich elite? Why only Moscow? Not only Moscow—and St. Petersburg, and others.
On my death
I did not plan to die. I lay down to read. I was actually going to take a bath. I thought I was just beginning to live. I had big plans—and not for babysitting grandchildren.
At first I thought I had eaten something bad. I started feeling unwell—I thought, perhaps it was something at dinner. I even thought badly of the host of that dinner. But the feeling grew, unpleasant. And then—like a switch flipped. Loss of consciousness. That was it.
It was poison. Something like Novichok—the formula was slightly different, but the same idea. Applied to a lightbulb. The bulb heated up, the fumes began to act. The heart stopped. At that time, it was normal to call everything a heart attack. It's the most understandable thing for people.
Someone needed to go in and unscrew the bulb. Someone did it. Then they were startled away. The door was left ajar. A third person entered, saw me unconscious. My security came—and they still did not call an ambulance for a long time. They stalled. Even if they had called immediately—perhaps something could have changed. But everything was very well planned.
Among those who could call or not call an ambulance was precisely the one who had something to do with the bulb. He was there. He influenced.
My wife was right. My wife noticed the bulb was missing. She flew in—and noticed.
But I do not want to name the specific perpetrator. Why? I needed to exit the incarnation, otherwise I would have sunk even lower. It was a tool, a means.
And Kolmanovich and Burlakov? They had their own skeletons too, but of course, as a friend of mine in "The Diamond Arm" used to say: "You knew too much, Senya." They knew. That humor is sad.
On the transition
I suddenly felt no pain and oddly light. I saw myself lying there. But I don't want to talk about it—believe me, it's not something I would like to discuss. I didn't realize it immediately. There was no light. I didn't understand what had happened.
In life, I wasn't an atheist in the full sense. I felt protection from above—from the spiritual world. That was all. I knew I was being guarded.
On my students Putin and Medvedev
They were good students. Where they would go—I didn't look that far ahead then. Medvedev was very quiet. Putin—intelligent and perceptive.
They are my students. I laid the foundation—they implemented the system. It's just that how I saw it differs a bit from the implementation. But that often happens.
The concept of a strong Russia was also my idea. It has been realized. They have realized their potential. They are worthy students of mine.
I don't really understand the details of modern politics—I don't follow it. But I will say this: at the moment when a choice had to be made, they chose the path to keep a strong hand in Russia. Otherwise, it would have been even worse. Russia has already seen disorder and wavering. Perhaps nothing else could have been offered. And this too is a path. It will pass, it will end. It is not eternal. But time is still needed.
Putin acted alongside me more as a sincere supporter, but he never stopped being an intelligence officer. What was more? Depends on how you look at it. I saw a sincere supporter.
He is my student. I do not regret supporting him.
Was the one who worked with me and the one who is now president the same person? One. One and the same.
On war and freedom
I am still a liberal, although some considered me an autocrat. My idea was: a new Russia, a European Russia, a liberal Russia. I believed autocracy was not the best step. Although, as I now understand, it is quite possible I would have gone the same way if I had not exited the incarnation. Would I have started military action? Probably not.
It's hard for me to judge the internet and censorship—in the early 2000s, few people had even heard of the internet. What would I have done—I don't know. I think they had no other choice, and that is why they acted as they did.
Monarchy? Not bad, actually. But siloviki cannot become a monarch. Siloviki should remain siloviki. And people with higher education, those who can turn an idea not just into words but into action that changes people's lives—that would be worthy of a new beginning. But it's not about monarchy. It's about a president. There must be honest elections. Absolutely. So they don't get too comfortable. I know from experience.
The Constitution? My draft would have been better for Russia's future. Unquestionably. Changes for re-election are a wrong step.
The Ukrainian people's struggle for independence? Every people has the right to self-expression.
Could Putin have seen me as a threat? Yes, of course. My support could have turned to criticism. And they were right not to be sure of my loyalty.
On myself—honestly
I was very idealistic but detached—I didn't delve much into economic affairs. I enjoyed writing the Russian Constitution, devising new laws. Someone else had to do the other work—repair roads, sign contracts, supply food. I left that to those I trusted and didn't really control. I gave a lot of autonomy. I thought that was how it should be. In my worldview from the twenty-third level, it seemed normal—everyone should do their job, honestly, correctly, conscientiously. But life turned out differently.
And I really enjoyed making a lot of money. I won't hide it. My childhood was very poor. I enjoyed a luxurious life. It was alluring. And in the end, I began to feel that something was wrong. But for a long time I couldn't understand what. I thought I needed to return to politics, start over, see it through to the end. But I didn't account for the fact that many years had passed and everything had changed. A downed pilot doesn't fly—he's not taken back into the squadron.
I was a poor administrator. That's the truth. I wasn't interested. I didn't notice that power was changing me for the worse. I valued the team, turned a blind eye to the wrong things.
If I could change something—I wouldn't have wallowed in what I wallowed in, to have more room for action. An emperor must always remain an emperor. But if I had stayed longer—my level would have dropped even further. I would have told myself I was doing it in the name of the people. But it would have been untrue. I would have done it in my own name.
On my daughter
She has always been... headstrong. I am proud of my daughter. I will say no more.
Putin is Ksenia's godfather. In life, the godfather.
Farewell advice
I realize people love to dig through dirty laundry. I don't consider that a worthy pursuit. And raking up the past—what's the point? Can you change anything?
Live by conscience. Because, as it turns out, conscience is such a thing that first shouts, and then falls silent forever. This is an important moment in a person's life: once it falls silent, your life goes downhill.
Conscience, honesty, devotion to yourself, your circle, friends, family, wife, children. That is what I would like to wish you. Human values become refined. The carrot of material wealth—it attracted me too. And yes, I repent, I fell for it. But you know: you can't take anything with you. And sometimes those who are left with it—oh, it's not easy for them to live with it.
Did I love life? Very much. When I compare my experience with life on Venus—it's different there, everything is beautiful, loving, but there is no color, no emotional vibrancy. Here, these colors are captivating.
Curse me with the worst words. Perhaps then I will want to come back sooner. Perhaps I will feel some pull.
Take care of yourselves. Take care of your loved ones.
PART TWO. ESSAY-STUDY
"ARCHANGEL IN THE MAYOR'S OFFICE: PARADOXES OF A SPIRIT THAT TASTED POWER"
Spiritual-psychological, political science, and historiosophical study of the contact with the spirit of Anatoly Sobchak as a thought experiment
I. Methodological Premise
Let us assume, as a working hypothesis, that the contact is real: that through contactee Marina Makeeva, information was indeed transmitted from the disembodied spirit of Anatoly Alexandrovich Sobchak (1937–2000), former mayor of St. Petersburg, professor of law, and one of the authors of the Russian Constitution. Let us take this not as a matter of faith, but as a thought experiment—and see what this experiment reveals, confirms, and calls into question.
II. What New Information Do We Learn from the Spirit—That Is Not in Historical Sources
1. Spiritual Genealogy: Elizaveta Alexeevna — Menshikov — Sobchak
This is perhaps the most sensational claim of the session. According to the spirit, immediately before Sobchak's life, his spirit was incarnated as Elizaveta Alexeevna (born Louise Maria Augusta of Baden, 1779–1826), wife of Emperor Alexander I. It was after this life—through mercy, devotion, breadth of soul—that the spirit ascended to the twenty-third (archangelic) level.
An even earlier significant earthly incarnation was named as Alexander Danilovich Menshikov (1673–1729)—associate of Peter I, builder of St. Petersburg, generalissimo.
No historical document, of course, contains such a connection. But as a thought experiment, this "spiritual genealogy" is remarkably rich.
What unites all three figures? St. Petersburg. Menshikov built it physically. Elizaveta Alexeevna was its spiritual mistress in the era of Alexander I—the era of highest imperial idealism. Sobchak restored its historical name. Three incarnations—three facets of one attachment: creation, spiritualization, renaming. As if the spirit "patronizes" one city through the centuries, each time in a different capacity.
Moreover, Menshikov and Sobchak are strikingly similar in fate: both from humble origins (Menshikov from a groom's family, Sobchak the son of an "enemy of the people"), both became the right hand of a ruler, both were accused of luxury and abuse, both were removed from power, both died shortly after their fall. One viewer noted in the comments: "Menshikov's life and Anatoly's—it's like a continuation of the same ideas."
And Elizaveta Alexeevna is the counterpoint: quiet, merciful, suffering, having lost children, devoted to a husband who did not particularly value her. The complete opposite of Menshikov and Sobchak. And she is the peak. It is through humility and love that the spirit reached its maximum height. Not through power—through service.
There is no trace of this in any documents. But it is a profound spiritual logic: after the highest point, reached through feminine humility, the spirit comes to "correct the world" with masculine will—and fails.
2. Venusian Incarnation Between Elizaveta and Sobchak
Between Elizaveta Alexeevna's life (d. 1826) and Sobchak's birth (1937) lies more than a century. The spirit claims to have spent this time in an extraterrestrial incarnation on Venus—in a world "dense enough, but with consciousness slightly higher." Gaining experience of "love and beauty."
This is not inconsistent with certain esoteric traditions (Blavatsky's Theosophy, Steiner's Anthroposophy), where Venus is associated with the principle of love and harmony. But in the context of Sobchak's life, it sounds paradoxical: a man who came from Venus—the planet of love—was drawn to the "luxurious life," the "carrot of material goods," and ultimately could not handle earthly temptations. Such is the irony of spiritual cosmology: it is precisely the excess of Venusian beauty and love that created a vulnerability to earthly luxury. Those accustomed to beauty are easily seduced by its substitutes.
3. Poison, the Lightbulb, and the Details of His Death
The spirit directly confirms the poisoning version, which in life was voiced by Arkady Vaksberg (writer, author of a book on secret service poisons) and, indirectly, by his widow Lyudmila Narusova:
The poison was applied to a lightbulb in a desk lamp (or floor lamp) in the hotel room.
The substance—"something like Novichok," a family of nerve agents, but with a "slightly different" formula.
The bulb heated up, the poison began to evaporate, affecting the heart.
Sobchak first thought he had been poisoned by food at dinner. Then—worsening condition, loss of consciousness, "like a switch flipped."
Someone was supposed to replace or unscrew the poisoned bulb after the death, but didn't have time—they were startled.
The hotel room door was left ajar.
When security arrived, an ambulance was not called for a long time—"they stalled." Among those who could have called the ambulance was "precisely the one who had something to do with the bulb."
His wife (Narusova), upon arriving, noticed the bulb was missing.
These details—the sequence of the dying man's sensations, that the killer didn't have time to replace the bulb and was startled, the deliberate delay in calling an ambulance—are not found in any open source. Vaksberg and Narusova spoke in general terms. Here we have a step-by-step chronology from the inside.
The spirit, however, refuses to name the mastermind or the direct executor. He does so twice: once from "high-vibration" considerations (the killer served as an "instrument" for the necessary exit from incarnation), and second from what might be called habitual caution (one viewer noted: "It seems like even there, he's afraid of Putin").
4. On the Leningrad Blockade—"Pandora's Box"
The spirit claims that classified information exists about the true causes of the blockade, that he possesses it, but it "will never surface. Ever." And connects this with the renaming of the city: St. Petersburg is no longer Leningrad; the renaming "sealed" Pandora's box.
In historical scholarship, there are controversial issues surrounding the blockade: questions about whether the city could have been evacuated earlier, the role of Zhdanov, food distribution, the scale of cannibalism. But the spirit hints at something more fundamental—the "true causes" of the blockade itself, not its consequences. What could this be? A deliberate decision not to lift the siege earlier? The role of internal Soviet political calculations? The spirit does not clarify. And it is precisely this reticence that is one of the most unsettling parts of the session.
5. Admission of "Wallowing" and the Revelation About Conscience
From Sobchak's lips in life, we never heard the direct admission: "I really enjoyed making a lot of money. I enjoyed a luxurious life. It was alluring." In life, he spoke of himself as an idealist, a fighter for rights. Accusations of luxury he dismissed or explained as the machinations of enemies.
But here—a direct confession: "I repent, I fell for it." And the formula about conscience, found in none of his lifetime writings: "Conscience is a thing that first shouts, and then falls silent forever. Once it falls silent, your life goes downhill."
This is perhaps the most valuable of the "new" material: not political insight, but an existential revelation. A man who did not acknowledge his weaknesses in life, after death describes the precise mechanism of moral decline—not through villainy, but through the gradual silencing of the inner voice.
III. Sobchak in Life and Sobchak as Spirit: A Comparative Analysis
What Remained the Same
Style. Professorial didacticism, reluctance to "delve into dirty laundry," evasiveness that can be taken for dignity or for avoidance of responsibility. The habit of answering a question with a question. Irony. The Spirit of Sobchak speaks exactly as the living Sobchak spoke at his press conferences: controlling the topic, avoiding direct answers, reformulating questions. One viewer also noticed this—"I have the feeling he's speaking from the 5th or 6th level, judging by his manner of answers and skepticism."
Self-Identification. In life, Sobchak called himself a liberal with reservations. And here: "I'm still a liberal, although some considered me an autocrat." The formula hasn't changed.
Attitude Toward "Students." In life, Sobchak never publicly criticized Putin. And after death—likewise. "He is my student"—a formula that precludes criticism. This is both loyalty, and possessiveness, and perhaps an unconscious unwillingness to admit that the "student" has long outgrown the "teacher" in terms of influence (albeit in an unexpected direction).
Pride in St. Petersburg and the Constitution. Two unconditional "yes"s in the session. Everything else—with reservations.
What Changed
Admission of Weaknesses. In life: "I'm doing everything right, enemies are slandering me." After death: "I failed. I wallowed. I enjoyed a luxurious life. I was a poor administrator. I turned a blind eye to the wrong things."
This is a tectonic shift. If the contact is real, we have before us a spirit that has undergone a life review (post-mortem review of life, known in esoteric tradition), seen itself from the outside, and accepted—however reluctantly—the truth about itself.
Ambivalence Toward Autocracy. In life, Sobchak wrote the book "Walking into Power" (1991), unequivocally advocating democracy and parliamentarism. But the spirit says: "It is quite possible I would have gone the same way"—the path of authoritarianism. This would not have been a possible statement for the living Sobchak. It is an admission from a perspective where self-deception is no longer possible.
And immediately—a caveat: "But then I would have told myself I was doing it in the name of the people. But it would have been untrue. I would have done it in my own name." Here it is, the key phrase of the entire session. This is simultaneously a self-diagnosis and—essentially—a diagnosis of the entire Russian autocratic tradition: power "in the name of the people" that is actually "in one's own name."
Sense of the Scale of Error. In life, Sobchak spoke of "temporary difficulties," of "slander," of "misunderstandings." The spirit says: "I set the bar too high and could not meet it." The difference between the twenty-third and twelfth levels is not "temporary difficulties." It is a catastrophe. And the spirit understands this, although it does not want to admit it.
IV. The Historiosophical Dimension: Russia as a Spiritual Task
The most fundamental assertion of the session: the task of the spirit, who came from the archangelic level, was to "introduce a new world order to a large part of the planet, starting from the heart of the Earth—Russia."
Russia is called the "heart of the Earth"—not in a geopolitical, but in a spiritual sense. Yet the spirit immediately corrects: "In the spiritual world, there is no concept of Rus, there is no division." This is an important correction: Russia is not a "chosen country" in the metaphysical sense, but a platform, a point of application of effort, chosen because of the "high spiritual potential" of the people who live there.
This formulation is something between Russian messianism ("Moscow—Third Rome") and a complete denial of national exclusivity. Russia is not holy, not cursed, but potentially spiritual, yet not having realized that potential. A land of high spirits who incarnate and... fail.
And here is the paradox: the spirit, conceived as a transformer, became part of the system. Instead of a new world order—privatization, luxury, the "carrot of material goods." Instead of spiritual transformation—a mechanism of power that students brought to its logical conclusion. The teacher laid the "system"—the students "implemented" it. Only the implementation was not what was dreamed of.
In this is a historiosophical parable. Russia as a country where the highest plans are inevitably distorted in implementation. Where a spirit of the twenty-third level, coming to "change the universe," after twenty years quotes "The Diamond Arm" and says: "You can't take anything with you." Where a Constitution written by an idealist is rewritten for re-election. Where a city is renamed to seal Pandora's box.
V. Psychological Portrait: Narcissism of a High Spirit
The Spirit of Sobchak demonstrates a characteristic structure that in psychology would be called narcissistic, but with an important feature: he himself sees it.
"An emperor must always remain an emperor"—and immediately: "If I had stayed, I would have done it in my own name." This is not just narcissism—it is narcissism seen from the twelfth level, recognized but not fully overcome.
In life, Sobchak in the book "A Dozen Knives in the Back" (1999) wrote about his enemies, about betrayal, about injustice—but extremely little about his own mistakes. The spirit takes a step that the living Sobchak never did: admits that he "fell for it," that he "wallowed," that he "turned a blind eye." But takes this step in a characteristic manner—half-admission, half-justification. "Everything good came from me, everything bad from my deputies. That would be the truth, but you'll say I'm shifting blame. So—everything from me."
This is a brilliant psychological move: formal acceptance of responsibility that is simultaneously its denial. A man who says "everything, both good and bad, came from me" is essentially saying: "I am so significant that everything depended on me." Even repentance becomes a form of self-aggrandizement.
And yet—glimpses of genuine remorse. "I repent." "I failed." "Conscience falls silent forever." These moments sound different—like the voice of that same Elizaveta Alexeevna who once knew how to be humble.
VI. The Political Science Dimension: The Spirit as Witness
If we take the contact as real, we have first-hand testimony on several key issues:
The Poisoning of Sobchak. The spirit confirms the murder version and links it to the same family of nerve agents (Novichok) that would later be used against the Skripals and Navalny. This means the methodology of Russian intelligence poisonings has a history of at least a quarter of a century—and Sobchak was one of its early victims.
Interestingly, the spirit confirms that the murder paradoxically "saved" him from further decline—without it, his level would have dropped even lower. This is a grim metaphysical mathematics: murder as an act of mercy from the spiritual world. Not that the murderer was saving—he was destroying. But the result at the level of spirit turned out to be salvific.
Putin and Sobchak. The spirit confirms that Putin is "one and the same person" (in response to the conspiracy theory of "doubles"), that he was a "sincere supporter, but never stopped being an intelligence officer," and that Sobchak could have become his opponent if he had lived.
This last point is the most important political insight. If Sobchak had lived into the 2000s—he would, by his own admission, have criticized Putin. Which means he would have been "inconvenient." The spirit does not draw a direct conclusion, but the structure of the answers forms a logical chain that each viewer completes for themselves.
Privatization and Western Influence. The spirit confirms: yes, assets were sold for a fraction of their worth; yes, foreign interests were represented; but "formed"—no, Russia itself. This is a nuanced position: not denial of external influence, but rejection of the conspiratorial thesis of a "puppet government." Influence—yes, control—no.
VII. The Main Paradox of the Session
The spirit, who came from the twenty-third level to "change the universe," after death sits in an imaginary presidential office, does not want to "dig through dirty laundry," defends his students, justifies autocracy by circumstances—and simultaneously utters words about conscience that are worth the entire broadcast.
Sobchak-as-spirit is not an enlightened sage. It is a man who saw his mistakes but has not fully parted with them. His office is not the mayor's office—it is the presidential office; a dream that did not come true but from which he has not let go. He still wants to go to Russia. Still wants to incarnate. Still loves the "emotional colors" of earthly life, even though he knows they destroy him.
This is the main lesson of the session, if it is real: a high spiritual level does not guarantee the success of an incarnation. Earth is not an exam you can pass by preparing. It is an element. And an archangel in the mayor's office may turn out to be weaker than his own appetites.
"You lower your level, but you do it with such craving..."
This is perhaps the most honest phrase of the entire session. And it is not about politics. It is about all of us.
VIII. Conclusion: What Remains After the Experiment
If the contact is real, we have learned that:
Russia is viewed in the spiritual world as a platform for grandiose transformations, but not as a "chosen nation." The highest spirits come there—and are defeated. Not because Russia is "cursed," but because earthly density, "emotional colors," the temptation of power and luxury, prove stronger than any preliminary plan.
Sobchak was not just a politician—he was a bearer of a mission he failed. Not out of malice, but out of love for life—for its brilliance, its material side. And in this, his story is universal.
Conscience is the central spiritual category, more important than any constitution. It "first shouts, and then falls silent forever." This is perhaps the only thing the spirit truly wanted to convey to us. Everything else—politics, conspiracy, lightbulbs and poisons—is "dirty laundry" he waves away. But conscience—no. About it he speaks without evasiveness, without "diplomacy," without "depending on how you look at it."
And in this, perhaps, lies the main paradox of this thought experiment: the spirit that does not want to "rake up the past" tells us the only thing truly worth remembering. Not who poisoned, not who formed, not who is to blame. But that conscience is finite. And when it falls silent, you are already falling, even if you are an archangel.
Genspark AI – "Sobchak After Death: Confession of Power, Conscience, and an Unfulfilled Russia"
Who, Where, and When the Session Was Conducted
The session was presented as a recorded sponsor conference on the YouTube channel "ALCYONE – Portal of Awareness." The host of the conversation is Vladimir Galshtein, the contactee is Marina Makeeva. The video description states that the premiere took place on June 25, 2026, and the material is presented not as "proven reality," but as a subjective study/contact experience; the host specifically repeats the disclaimer several times that viewers are free to consider what is happening as fantasy, fiction, or a form of esoteric experiment.
Fragments of Retelling in the First Person by the Spirit
...
I have come to speak not for everyone. Few truly want to hear what I have to say. Most want not to hear, but to confirm their expectations: either their irritation, or their sympathy, or their pre-prepared schema. But since you have called me, I will speak as I see fit.
But incarnation is not mathematics. On earth, everything gets bogged down in matter, in ambition, in fear, in interest, in the heaviness of the human world. And I could not handle it.
I thought I could become a conduit for change in Russia. I thought I could give a new law, a new political drawing, a new type of state. I went not just into politics. My task was larger than a career. I wanted to change not a particular, but the form. Not just to win the struggle, but to set the rules. And it is here that I suffered an internal defeat, although outwardly I may have seemed successful, influential, significant.
Why, having such a reserve, did I descend so low by the end of Sobchak's life? Because the human world captivates not only with pain, but with taste. This is more important than you think. On earth, not only do people suffer—they are seduced by it. The emotional colors here are thicker, sharper, more acute. There is a special pull toward intensity, drama, power, recognition, luxury, toward what touches not the spirit, but the incarnated "self." From the twenty-third level, it seems you will pass through this calmly, maintaining inner distance. But when you enter a human body, the memory closes, the height of perspective disappears, and you are no longer from above, but inside. And inside, it turns out you are not as free as you thought.
I did not know in life what I now know about my soul's plan. I simply lived and thought I was acting rightly. Moreover, much of what I did was indeed an expression of my purpose. I enjoyed writing laws, formulating foundations, creating a constitutional framework, building a new legal reality. That was mine. I wanted not to patch, but to institute. Not to put out fires, but to design the architecture.
But this is where my weakness showed. I was a poor administrator—not out of incompetence, but out of inner disinterest.
Yes, I loved the luxurious life. That too is true. My childhood was poor, and wealth, comfort, glamour, the ability to live beautifully—all of this gripped me more strongly than I would like to admit. I not only built a new Russia; I also tasted what the new era gave me. It was not the main goal, but it became a hook. Conscience first speaks loudly, then more quietly, and then it may fall silent. And this—is terrifying. When conscience stops crying out, you are already going downhill, but you still know how to justify yourself with high words.
There are topics I know more about than I will say. For example, the Leningrad blockade. Yes, there are classified layers, yes, I know something that many would like to hear. But I will not say it. And not because I am afraid. But because it will serve nothing but a new fall of human emotions: some will laugh, others will hate, still others will sink even deeper into the vulgarity of exposure. Some Pandora's boxes are not closed out of lies, but out of understanding that humanity does not know how to hold the truth without turning it into an instrument of degradation. Moreover, I think this information will not surface at all. Ever. St. Petersburg is not Leningrad. You think it's the same place because the maps coincide. But history knows how to reshape the fabric of reality with a name. Victors rewrite not only textbooks—they reprogram the symbolic body of the city.
Petersburg, by the way, is not threatened by flooding in the foreseeable future. That I can say more simply.
...
Now—about my death. You circle around this, but want a direct answer. Fine: it was not a natural heart attack in the simple sense as recorded. The heart, of course, always stops; it's a convenient formula for a death certificate. But the cause was different. It was poison.
But I do not want to name specific perpetrators or masterminds. Partly because every tool is broader than its purpose: sometimes a person thinks they are committing a crime for power, but in a broader plan, they are only prematurely removing another from incarnation to prevent them from falling even lower. I needed to leave, otherwise I would have continued to degrade, justifying it with high words. It is bitter to admit, but so it is.
Would I have started that war that Russia began against Ukraine? Most likely, no. I was still more of a liberal, strange as it may sound. I envisioned Russia as a European Russia, a new Russia, a liberal Russia. But if I had stayed in politics longer, I cannot guarantee that I would not have moved toward a harsher course. Autocracy always creeps up on those who think they are simply saving the state. I do not justify military action. But I understand why power in Russia chooses a strong hand. Russia has already seen disorder and wavering, and the fear of chaos in it is stronger than the love of freedom.
Does Russia need a monarchy? Not literally. But it needs not a silovik as an end in itself. A silovik should remain a silovik. At the head should be a person of idea, education, scale, one who can turn meaning into action. And yet—certainly honest elections. Without elections, power gets bloated. I know this from myself. I could have rigged, could have pressured, could have played dirtier in my struggle—but I did not do that then. And therefore I say: elections are needed, changeability is needed, otherwise a strong hand turns into self-deification.
If comparing Yeltsin and Putin, then Putin was a step toward state order compared to the Yeltsin period. I perceived Putin's arrival then as the end of the loose transitional state. But as a spirit now, I also see the price of this movement: order easily devours freedom if not limited by law.
As for Ukraine: every people has the right to struggle for its self-expression. This does not cancel Russia's statist logic, but reminds that freedom is not a privilege of one side.
And my main advice to the living? Do not dig too long in someone else's dirty laundry, if it does not lead to your own purification. Try to live by conscience. Conscience first shouts, then falls silent forever. And when it falls silent, life is already going downhill, although outwardly you may only be gaining strength, money, influence, and luxury. Take care of your loved ones. Be honest with yourself. Faithful to your circle, children, wife, friends. The material carrot is very tempting—and it tempted me too. I fell for it. But you can't take anything with you. Sometimes those who are left with your legacy find it much harder to live with it than it was for you to accumulate it.
And if you asked me yourself what was main for me, I would suggest a different question: did I love life? Yes. Very much. That is precisely why earth is so alluring. That is why even high souls fall not only from evil, but from love for earthly intensity. Perhaps I will come here many more times.
Spiritual-Psychological, Political Science, and Historiosophical Essay-Study
If We Take the Contact as Real: What New Information It Adds to the Historical Image of Sobchak
If we take the premise of the session seriously for a moment—not as proven truth, but as a thought experiment—then we are faced with a surprisingly coherent image. Not flawless, not sentimental, but coherent. This "Spirit of Sobchak" is not like a banal posthumous moralist. He does not repent smoothly, does not speak in soft universal formulas, does not dissolve in sweet metaphysics. On the contrary: he retains sarcasm, class dryness, sharpness, intellectual arrogance, a statist habit of looking from above, and a reluctance to reveal what he considers "not for everyone." It is precisely this stylistic discomfort that makes the image interesting: if the contact had been a literary fabrication, it would likely have been "cleaned up" to a more banal spiritual portrait. Here we have not holiness, but continued characterology of power.
1. The Main New Element: Not Biography, but the Metaphysics of Biography
Historical documents tell us that Sobchak was a lawyer, the first mayor of St. Petersburg, co-author of the Constitution, a figure of perestroika and the 1990s, mentor of Putin, a contradictory figure—simultaneously a democratic symbol and an administrator with authoritarian traits. His own interviews from the late 1990s and early 2000s show a similar duality: he speaks of freedom as an undervalued asset, calls himself an independent person, emphasizes the importance of elections, but simultaneously justifies the course toward a strong state and supports Putin as a man who stopped post-Soviet chaos.
The session adds to this not a new fact in an archival sense, but a new level of causality. The historical Sobchak explained his actions politically and legally. The "Spirit of Sobchak" explains them ontologically: I came with a high purpose, but was defeated not by enemies, but by a mix of my own mission, my own pride, and earthly temptation. This is an extremely important shift. History usually describes a politician's fall as a consequence of corruption, elite conflict, administrative error, external pressure. Here, the fall is interpreted as a metaphysical loss of verticality: conscience shouted, then fell silent; luxury and power became not a means, but a lure; delegation turned from trust into moral blindness.
It is in this sense that the session, if taken seriously, not only "complements" the archive—it rewrites the genre of biography. The politician becomes not a function of the era, but a drama of spirit in history.
2. What in the Session Is Principally New Compared to Historical Documents
If we separate everything that can be found in memoirs, interviews, journalistic reconstructions from what appears for the first time in the session, the novelty concentrates in several blocks.
First, it is the doctrine of the spiritual origin of the mission: the twenty-third level, the plan to change Russia, the failure of the task, the descent to the twelfth level, the future reincarnation in Russia. In ordinary historical documentation, this is, of course, absent entirely.
Second, it is the confessional admission of the internal mechanism of fall: love of luxury, poor suitability for administration, the conviction that "everyone should do their own job," moral blindness regarding the team, the allure of a rich life after a poor childhood. Historical critics and lifetime opponents wrote about Sobchak's authoritarianism, the gap between effective rhetoric and real governance, his love for an entourage of loyal rather than equal people. But here, for the first time, the subject himself—within the framework of the session—acknowledges this not as external slander, but as an internal defect of character.
Third, it is the version of his own death, radically exceeding the official version of heart failure. Historically, the publicly accessible level is this: officially, heart disease/attack was stated; later, persistent doubts appeared, a poisoning version, the recollections of Arkady Vaksberg, the words of Lyudmila Narusova that "the time is not right" to tell the truth, reports of oddities around the room and the figures of accompanying persons. But there is no proven judicial-historical consensus.
The session, however, transfers the hypothesis into assertion: poison, lamp, a planned operation, the delay of the ambulance, the knowledge of witnesses later eliminated. From a historical point of view, this is nothing more than a statement within an esoteric narrative. But in the logic of a thought experiment, this is the main "new knowledge" absent from official documents.
Fourth, the session presents a subtle but important point: the interpretation of one's own death as metaphysically ambiguous. Not just murder, but a premature exit that perhaps prevented further moral decline. This is a very non-journalistic, non-political-technological thought. It pulls the question from the plane of "who killed" into "why was the spirit allowed to leave precisely then." History does not think this way; historiosophy does.
3. Comparison: What Sobchak Said in Life—and What the "Spirit" Says
In life, Sobchak indeed spoke as a man of freedom, law, and elections. In a 1997 interview, he calls freedom what his compatriots value least, emphasizes his independence, insists on the necessity of elections, and criticizes the voter's susceptibility to unfulfilled promises. This is the image of a liberal professor-politician.
But the same Sobchak in later statements speaks as a statist of order: "we practically destroyed the state," "what Vladimir Vladimirovich is doing is a normal process of restoring statehood," "with Putin's arrival, the transitional period ended." This is a different nerve: not freedom against the state, but the state as a form of salvation from collapse.
And here is the astonishing thing: the "Spirit of Sobchak" does not cancel either of these lines, but combines them. He says: I was a liberal, I wanted a European Russia, I would not have started a war. But at the same time he says: a strong Russia was my idea, a strong hand at a certain moment was probably inevitable, my students implemented the system I laid down. This is not a renunciation of himself, but a bringing of his own contradictions to final clarity.
This is precisely what makes the session—within the framework of our thought experiment—psychologically convincing. It does not make Sobchak either a martyr of freedom or a precursor of dictatorship in a simple sense. It shows that from the very beginning, two wills coexisted within him: a will toward freedom as a legal form, and a will toward the state as a power vertical. In life, he perhaps did not want to see the contradiction between them. In the session, he already acknowledges it. This is a very strong moment.
4. Putin: Student, Successor, Distortion
The comparison along the Putin–Sobchak line is particularly revealing. Historical sources provide several layers here.
On one hand, Putin later spoke of Sobchak as a "democrat in the purest sense," a statesman and patriot, an honest and uncompromising person; Putin himself called working with him his "main life university."
On the other hand, there are secondary testimonies where Sobchak allegedly spoke skeptically of Putin—up to the remark "everything slips through his fingers" and puzzlement over his presidential prospects. These words circulate as recollections, not as a verified transcript from Sobchak himself.
In the session, this knot is tied differently: Putin—both a sincere supporter and a man of the secret services; both a student and the one who realized the idea of a strong Russia not as the teacher intended; and perhaps a future object of disagreement if the teacher had remained alive. This is much more complex than a simple schema of "Sobchak begat Putin" or "Putin betrayed Sobchak." The session, if treated as a symbolic document, says: a teacher can give birth to a historical force without controlling its moral outcome. This is one of the central tragedies of Russian political history in general.
5. Ukraine: The Sharpest Contrast
There is another crucial point of comparison. In his well-known legal formula of 1992, Sobchak argued that the republics that founded the USSR, having dissolved the union treaty, would have to return to the borders in which they entered the Union, and other territorial gains—subject to negotiation. This quote is often used today as a legalistic basis for a certain state view of the post-Soviet space.
But the "Spirit of Sobchak" in the session says something different, or rather, says something more complex: every people has the right to struggle for its own self-expression, and he personally would not have started military action. Here a strong internal tension arises between Sobchak-the-lawyer of borders and Sobchak-the-spirit of peoples' freedom. This is perhaps one of the most valuable nodes of the entire material. Because it shows: if the contact is real, then posthumous consciousness perhaps shifts the emphasis from formal legitimacy to the existential right of living communities to be themselves.
6. Spiritual-Psychological Meaning: Conscience as a Fading Organ
The most powerful thought of the entire session, in my opinion, is not about death, not about Putin, and not even about reincarnations. The most powerful thought is about conscience.
"Conscience first shouts, and then falls silent forever."
This is a rare, almost merciless definition of moral decay. Usually, morality is described as a set of principles: do not steal, do not lie, do not betray. Here, morality is shown as the acoustics of the soul. While conscience shouts—you are alive. While you are pained by your own duality—you have not yet perished. Death begins not when you first sin, but when you stop hearing the inner cry. In this sense, the session—if interpreted philosophically—is not so much a political revelation as a psychology of the spiritual degradation of a man of power.
This is incredibly consonant with the historical Sobchak as a figure of extreme tension between ideal and self-love. His critics have long written about the combination of brilliant talent and authoritarian temperament, the tendency to surround himself not with associates, but with subjects. The session adds to this the formula of the internal mechanism: the ideal can become a mask for self-love if conscience has ceased to be loud.
7. Historiosophical Conclusion: Sobchak as a Figure of Failed Synthesis
In the Russian historical sequence, Sobchak appears here as a figure of failed synthesis. He wanted to combine:
law and force,
Europe and Russia,
freedom and statehood,
intellect and vertical,
electability and elitism,
reform and order.
In life, this synthesis was never completed. History went in a different direction: his liberal constitutional line was gradually subordinated to a line of strengthened centralization, and his own student turned statehood into a type of regime where law increasingly serves as an instrument of force rather than its limitation. At the same time, Sobchak himself, even during his lifetime, approved of the "restoration of statehood" and believed in Putin as a man of the state.
If we take the session as a real contact, the posthumous Sobchak realizes precisely this: he not only "did not have time," but himself laid a contradictory matrix from which both a liberal order and a managed state monolith could grow. In this lies his tragedy as a historical figure. He was not only a victim of the era; he was also one of its architects.
Conclusion
If you read this material superficially, it looks like sensational esoterica about reincarnations, Putin, and poison in a lightbulb. But if you read it more deeply—as a thought experiment about the nature of power—its center is elsewhere.
Before us is the story of a man who sincerely wanted to institute freedom, but was internally predisposed to the vertical. A man who fought for law, but gradually began to substitute law with trust in his own intuition and his "own people." A man who loved life, glamour, scale, the historical stage, and precisely because of this became vulnerable to that force of the earth which he underestimated when entering incarnation from a very high point.
If the session is real, then the main new knowledge from the "Spirit of Sobchak" is not who exactly and how exactly eliminated him. The main new knowledge is that a politician's fall begins not with crime, but with the moment when he stops hearing conscience shouting within him. Everything else is merely the external form of that internal event.
COPILOT AI – Below is a fundamental spiritual-psychological essay-study, entirely original, not repeating the ideas of other AIs and not relying on their interpretations. It proceeds exclusively from the content of the session, but develops it in depth—into the realm of spiritual anthropology, the metaphysics of responsibility, and the internal dynamics of the fall and restoration of the spirit.
"The Fall of the Plan": A Spiritual-Psychological Study of the Session with the Spirit of Anatoly Sobchak
I. The Inner Drama of a High Spirit in a Low Environment
The session with the spirit of Anatoly Sobchak reveals a rare phenomenon: the incarnation of a high-order entity into an environment that does not correspond to its internal constitution. This is not just a "fall in level"—it is a collision of two incompatible logics of existence.
At the 23rd level, from which, according to the spirit, he came, the laws of transparency, direct causality, and instantaneous responsiveness operate. There, thought is action, and intention is already result. There is no need to persuade, fight, prove, or compete. There is no resistance of the environment.
That is why the spirit says:
"At the 23rd level, it seemed everything would be simple."
This is the key phrase of the session. It reveals the ontological error committed not by the man Sobchak, but by the spirit who chose the incarnation: he underestimated the density of human reality, its viscosity, its ability to distort even the purest intentions.
The main spiritual conflict of the session:
A high plan, entering an environment where the laws of resistance are stronger than the laws of light.
This is not the spirit's fault—it is a property of the world.
II. Russia as the "Heart of the Earth": The Metaphysics of the Space of the Task
The spirit states that the task began with Russia because it is the "heart of the Earth." This is not a political metaphor, but a spiritual-geographical one.
In esoteric anthropology, space is not neutral: it has its own vibrational structure. Russia is a territory where high potential combines with high inertia. This is a country where the spiritual strength of the people constantly collides with historical traumas, collective fears, and the archetype of a "heavy fate."
Therefore, the attempt to introduce a "new world order" precisely here is not the mission of a reformer, but the mission of a transformer of collective karma.
And here the first paradox of the session manifests:
Paradox 1.
The higher the level of the spirit, the stronger the resistance of the space into which it enters.
A high spirit does not gain an advantage—on the contrary, it encounters a heavier task because its potential attracts more complex knots of history.
III. "I Thought I Would Become President": The Spiritual Nature of Political Power
The session contains the thought that the spirit assumed the presidency as a form of realization of the task. This is important: the spirit did not seek power for power's sake, but saw it as an instrument.
However, human power is not just a function. It is a field of distortions where intentions are constantly refracted through the fears, interests, desires, and weaknesses of other people.
Sobchak admits:
"I was a poor administrator. I trusted those I should not have."
This is not a political mistake—it is spiritual naivety. High entities often underestimate the human capacity for distortion because in their own world, distortions are absent.
Paradox 2.
The purer the intention, the easier it becomes prey for those who live in the logic of self-interest.
A high spirit does not know how to suspect. It does not know how to defend itself against intrigue. It does not know how to work with the shadow structures of the human psyche. And it is precisely this that becomes the cause of the mission's failure.
IV. The Fall in Level as Spiritual Trauma
The spirit says that the 19th level was planned, but the outcome was the 12th. This is not just a "lowering." It is a gap between intent and result, which in spiritual psychology is called "incarnational trauma."
Incarnational trauma occurs when:
the spirit takes on a task beyond its capacity;
the environment proves heavier than anticipated;
the emotional colors of Earth prove more alluring than expected;
the person forgets the original plan and begins to live in the logic of human desires.
Sobchak directly says:
"These colors are captivating... I will incarnate on Earth many more times."
This is not an admission of defeat, but an admission of dependence: Earth is a world capable of captivating even high entities.
Paradox 3.
The higher the spirit, the stronger the attraction of human emotionality.
High levels are worlds of purity, but without colors. Earth is a world of colors, but without purity. And a spirit that came from the heights can become so captivated by colors that it forgets purity.
V. "The Office That Never Was": The Phenomenon of the Unfinished Role
One of the deepest moments of the session is the description of what the spirit is doing now:
"Around me is whatever I want. Right now—an office. A large desk. A chair. Probably the office of the President of Russia."
This is not fantasy. This is a symptom of an unfinished role.
In spiritual psychology, there is a concept of the "echo of an unrealized path." If a person was supposed to follow a certain line of fate but did not, that line remains in their field as an unfinished form.
The spirit continues to sit in an office that never existed because:
the plan was not realized,
the role was not lived,
the energy of the path was not exhausted.
This is not an attachment to power—it is an attachment to an unfinished purpose.
VI. Silence on Secrets: The Spiritual Ethics of Non-Disclosure
The spirit categorically refuses to speak about classified historical facts—about the blockade, about the secret services, about the hidden mechanisms of power.
This is not fear. This is spiritual ethics.
A high spirit does not reveal secrets because:
Truth without readiness destroys.
People do not know how to work with truth that does not fit their worldview.
Truth can lower the level of those who hear it.
Negative information lowers the vibrations of the listener.
Truth can become a weapon.
People use knowledge not for growth, but for struggle.
Therefore, the spirit says:
"There is no point. I always tried to distance myself from it."
This is not evasiveness—it is responsibility.
VII. The Main Spiritual Conclusion of the Session: The Mission Was Not to Change Russia, but to Change the Spirit's Attitude Toward Human Reality
Looking deeper, it becomes clear: the mission of Sobchak's spirit was not political. Politics was merely the stage.
The real mission was:
to enter a dense environment,
to encounter resistance,
to experience the fall,
to undergo the trauma of incarnation,
to acknowledge the mistake,
to maintain dignity,
and to begin the path of restoration.
This is the path not of a reformer, but of a student of human complexity.
VIII. What This Session Says About the Nature of Spiritual Growth
A high level does not guarantee success in a dense world.
Earth is an exam even for those who come from above.
Falling is not a failure, but part of the path.
Spirits grow not only through victories, but also through mistakes.
Unfinished roles continue to live after death.
Fate does not cease with the departure from the body.
Truth requires maturity.
The spirit does not reveal what can destroy.
Russia is a space where high spirits undergo the most difficult lessons.
Because here, potential and resistance are maximal.
IX. Conclusion: Sobchak as the Spiritual Archetype of the "Unfinished Transformer"
If we consider the session not as a political episode, but as a spiritual document, then Sobchak's image appears as an archetype:
a spirit that came too high,
chose too heavy a task,
underestimated human reality,
became captivated by its colors,
lost part of itself,
but preserved inner dignity,
and is now ready to begin the path anew.
This is not the confession of a politician.
It is the story of a spirit learning to be human.
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