Is the end of the world to be feared or welcomed? In these godless times, it is usually the former. Doomsday scenarios of nuclear war, climate change or civilisational collapse offer no possibility of redemption — just endless death. Gaze into the abyss of apocalypse, and it gazes also into you; thus was Greta Thunberg transformed into our era’s most prominent apocalyptic prophet. After reflecting upon the implications of the melting ice caps, she embarked on her 21st century children’s crusade to demand that the adults do something.
Throughout history many people have felt terror when the end seemed nigh; but there have also been those for whom the apocalypse could not come soon enough. Zoroaster, Christ, Mohammed and Marx all posited the coming of a happy day when this corrupted world would end, giving way to a better one.
Some enthusiastic souls proposed precise dates: in AD156 the followers of Montanus gathered on the plains of Asia Minor waiting for the New Jerusalem to descend, while 1,500 years later Isaac Newton pored over the books of Daniel and Revelation, before coming to the conclusion that the world would end within a hundred years of his own lifetime. Montanus and Newton were wrong, like all the others who have sought to fix a date for the end.
But what if it were possible to wrest the apocalyptic timetable from the hands of God or History and accelerate the advent of the new world? Well, some claim to have done that, too — such as Kondraty Selivanov, a Russian peasant who in the 18th century revealed to his followers, the Skopts, that if they castrated 144,000 people (the number of “the firstfruits unto God and to the Lamb” in chapter 14 of Revelation) then they would bring about the end of the world, last judgement and resurrection. That the Skopts may have numbered 100,000 before being annihilated by Stalin nearly a century and half later says a lot about the motivating power of apocalyptic longing.
The Skopts first appear in the historical record in 1771, in a strange encounter between two peasants bathing in a river in the Oryol region, close to the modern-day border with the Ukraine. One of them lacked genitals and explained to the other that he had castrated himself to avoid performing his conjugal duties. The authorities were called in to investigate and eventually discovered that 32 men in the surrounding villages had submitted to what Selivanov referred to as the “fiery baptism” in the hope of securing salvation.
Russia provided fertile soil for apocalyptic movements. In the mid-17th century liturgical reforms had caused a schism in the Church, giving rise to a multitude of radical sects convinced that they were living in the end times. For a hundred years assorted ascetics, orgiasts and self-immolators had suffered persecution at the hands of the state; Selivanov was originally a “Khlyst”, who followed their own Christs and whirled themselves into states of ecstatic delirium.
By a phonetic sleight-of-hand he transformed Christ the Saviour (iskupitel’) into Christ the Castrator (oskopitel’), while also teaching that John the Baptist had castrated Christ, and sexual characteristics only sprouted on Adam and Eve after they ate the forbidden fruit. Skopt baptism came in two styles: “the Little Seal” entailed either the removal of the testicles or a woman’s nipples. “The Great Seal” required the amputation of the penis or breasts. A cauterising blade was applied afterwards, the Skopts applying the same techniques they used on their livestock to themselves.
Join the discussion
Join like minded readers that support our journalism by becoming a paid subscriber
To join the discussion in the comments, become a paid subscriber.
Join like minded readers that support our journalism, read unlimited articles and enjoy other subscriber-only benefits.
SubscribeSuch primitive fools! Mutilating one’s genitals under some kind of misguided delusion – that wouldn’t happen today, would it…
That was a very interesting article in Unherd’s “Apocalypse” series. I’d never heard of the Skopts. It’s a timely reminder of just how fanatical people can become when seized by a powerful belief.
Great article. The 17th century schism within the Russian Orthodox church, which gave rise to much of the unholy chaos described, makes fascinating reading. The Old Believers, who cling to the unreformed ways, survived on the fringes of the Russian empire, despite ferocious persecution.
The Hill of Churches in Daugaupils, in eastern Latvia, has an Old Believers’ church across the road from the huge Orthodox cathedral. It is the only Old Believers’ church I have ever entered. While I sat quietly at the rear, listening to the choir rehearsing, a ferocious row broke out. One of the choir ripped off his gown and stormed out. Religious fervour still runs high.
I think my eyes must still have been watering after reading the article. I misread “gown” as “groin”.
The Lipovans who fled Russia in the 18th century and settled in the Danube Delta, which belonged to the Ottoman Empire, used to castrate themselves after the birth of their third child.
Don’t let Sage read any of this
Bad, radical ideas tend to attract followers!
…
Why didn’t they just kill themselves? They obviously had no confidence int their predictions.
When a species is capable of such craziness, how can we ever be sure when it is acting sanely?
skimmed it waiting to see if it had anything to say, but it did not, twisted sh*t is not fun reading to me
Do you have anything to say?
…are you kidding Sanford? Suggest you take a look at the work of Richard Landes on the varieties of Millennialism. It’s not the specific of the rituals which is relevant.