A widely discussed interview with Ivan Sukhov, a 40-year-old polygamist, stirred journalists, officials, psychologists, and ordinary citizens. A thick beard and a far-reaching ambition marked him as he outlined a self-made cult named after his own persona, dreaming of immortality through offspring and the power to shape his family’s future. With the persistence of a missionary, he presented his doctrines about the roles of a man and a woman, while questions lingered about what he did behind the scenes. He left the words about a car bought newer than a potato budget to his wives.
Enough has been said about Ivan; what matters more is understanding the motives of his wives. Sukhov said he lived with three women and fourteen children in a three-room Moscow apartment. Not all those invited accepted the harem arrangement; some left, and the rest adapted to the rules. Ivan stated one rule plainly: a woman must perform a woman’s function — cook and care for children. When the head of the family arranges it, the women work with him by having sexual relations and bearing children. He also argues that housework is care, so the wives should wait for meals with a smile and in a rested state — and they are asked to do Pilates to stay aligned with his expectations.
The slogan on Sukhov’s VKontakte page reads, simply, “It’s good to know how to love.” The polygamist’s dream is to leave a strong line of descendants. He explains that failing to produce at least 50 offspring would be a failure or, in his words, “stupid.” He aims to set a demographic record in his circle, waiting for the birth of his thirtieth heir.
One must pause to contemplate why a man who cannot even secure a home for every partner would push so hard to procreate. A practical thought is that a large family could be convenient for support. Yet that line against the heart of the matter should be rejected. A second thought points to a deeper drive — a mental push to prove worth through numbers. The more children, the stronger the presence, the more he can claim immortality through lineage. He openly implies that if he has sex, there should be offspring, otherwise the act loses its meaning. The question persists: what is the point of family life if it centers on multiplying children rather than shared life? Three dozen seems to him merely a starting point, as he mutters about how “they grow up and fly away from the nest.”
“You will work freelance and each will have a separate spouse” — a line that sounds out of place in the eyes of viewers familiar with traditional norms. Sukhov insists that his wives do not work. The idea goes that if a woman works, she might be seen as a man wearing a skirt. Wives do not drive cars, meet friends freely, and every expense must be approved by the master. Yet the women Sukhov lives with come from varied professions — doctors, investigators, and bailiffs — and they possess education and experience. They chose to forego traditional work in exchange for a life under the family’s rule, and their marriages last a long time, about ten to eighteen years. The eldest spouses approach forty. Natalya is the official first wife, Anna is often described as the middle partner, and a third wife presents herself in a style reminiscent of a Muslim woman. What happens to women who cannot bear children remains a difficult question, and why Sukhov’s chosen ones accept the conditions is not fully clear. How schooling and daily life fit into a single-room home in a multi-generational setting is equally puzzling.
The fate of Sukhov’s daughters, selected as potential brides from early childhood to be matched with other polygamists, looms large. If a child seeks education, there is little expectation of paternal support; the father looks for obedience and more children to feed as long as needed. Not every child embraces this lifestyle, yet many grow up within the framework and perceive it as normal. No one asked the daughters for consent as adults about their spouses or their views on the environment in which the children grow up. How could schooling and homework occur in a one-room space shared by many? The arrangement raises questions about education, privacy, and child development in such a crowded setting.
“These women came to terms with themselves and consciously accepted the conditions,” notes family psychologist Natalya Panfilova. She questions how mothers explain these living arrangements to their children or when a daughter might step away from such a society. The focus lies on who the women think about most — themselves or their children — and how wider social norms influence outcomes. Panfilova highlights potential long-term effects on children, including the possibility of an early departure from the household or, in some cases, a withdrawal into a guarded world resembling a cult. If one organizer cannot keep everyone in line, fractures can occur in the group.
While Sukhov casts himself as a kind of god or president, the women share a single partner and accept that their children know their father has relationships with multiple mothers. When critics voiced their concerns, politicians weighed in. Nina Ostanina, chair of a state committee focusing on family, women, and children, rejected the polygamous lifestyle as a deviation from accepted norms. Colleague Vitaly Milonov echoed that sentiment, calling the lifestyle the consequence of an unregulated life. TV host Ksenia Borodina commented with strong emotion that a scene like this would be easier to stomach on a cooking show, where a pan could be used to feed many at once. The public debate mirrors a broader tension in Russian society where tradition, law, and religion intersect with personal choices.
In broader terms, such scenarios provoke sharp reactions across the Russian psyche: ethical, legal, and religious concerns converge. Some view the arrangement as an attempt to redefine family from the outside in, while others see it as a risky experiment in loyalty and care. For some observers, the appeal lies in the sense of security and stability offered by a single, steadfast partner who promises not to abandon anyone and to share a traditional, masculine presence. Yet the reality on the ground is far more nuanced, with affection and coercion, affection and control, interwoven in a way that makes simple judgments difficult.
Not every case of polygamy in the region follows Sukhov’s blueprint. In the Leningrad region, a Turkmenistan businessman reportedly pursued a union with a Russian girlfriend despite his existing marriage, supported by dual citizenship. Local norms shaped the arrangement, balancing cultural expectations with autonomy. Women may accept such unions for various reasons, including companionship, economic support, or a sense of belonging, even when formal legality complicates the picture. The reality is mixed, and the stories reveal a spectrum of choices and consequences for everyone involved. In these arrangements, partners may seek safety and certainty, while concerns about freedom and equality persist. The broader takeaway is that the appeal and risk of polygamous arrangements depend on cultural context and personal circumstances, not just ideology.
In the end, Sukhov’s women may see security, stability, and a sense of being cared for in a polygamous setup. He projects unwavering commitment and a traditional, albeit controversial, masculine image. Some may view that as strength; others as a form of surrender that prioritizes the group over individual growth. The core questions remain: what does it mean to raise children in a large, shared space, and how do those children navigate love, education, and personal identity when family boundaries are so fluid? The discussion continues, highlighting the tension between unconventional family models and the social norms that seek to define what a healthy family should look like.
From a broader anthropological angle, the story is less about religious doctrine and more about a set of values that a small group chooses to live by. It reflects a shift toward collective lived experiences that harken back to earlier times, while still existing in a modern urban environment. It is a case study in how people navigate belonging, care, and the meaning of family when choices stretch beyond the conventional norms of society.