The truth about Durovgate: a ForkLog primer in conspiracy

Julia Vavilova, who accompanied Pavel Durov on his trip, is said to have helped engineer the billionaire’s detention. She allegedly deliberately tagged her location during the journey so that French law enforcement could track him.

Media also reported the woman’s supposed links to “Mossad,” which allegedly tasked her with handing Durov over to Western security services. According to the Daily Mail, Vavilova accompanied the Telegram founder on trips to Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan and Azerbaijan.

Tired of the standard conspiracist toolkit in news about Durov, the ForkLog editorial team decided to devise its own theory of everything to explain the businessman’s curious adventures—and more.

“It’s a stitch-up”

Alexey Bykov (ForkLog, news desk): It’s a stitch-up. Here’s the case. Durov was desperately short of money to meet Gram investors’ claims. Magically, he found it. In Russia.

The budget there is not in the best of health, and he was asked (told) to repay the debt. Денег нет, awkward. In this situation he needed a new protector (not the FSB).

France looks acceptable: the US in a presidential election year is not the best move, Britain is too bound to America, Germany is a revolving door for Russian intelligence. And it hardly matters what Durov gives up (he is no saint); he has secured refuge in a civilised country—and then we shall see.

Conspiracy theory: an assembly kit

Eduard Brukherizmo (ForkLog, longreads): I fully agree with my colleague, but would add a few refinements to turn the hunch into a full-fledged conspiracy theory. Start by recalling how any good piece of disinformation is organised: that ordinary people are being led by the nose by a small cabal (Masons, spooks, the “Committee of 300,” anthropomorphic reptiles, attendees of the Bitcoin Miami conference; they go by many names).

Conspiracy scholars Nikolai Sainakov and Ilya Yablokov identify the following hallmarks of a marginal hypothesis:

• heightened sensationalism;
• the zeal of refutation;
• radicalism;
• the presence of explicit, unconditional premises;
• rejection by specialists.

It is easiest to grasp with a popular example—the flat-Earth theory—by summarising it in five points:

1. Sensationalism. “Shock! A new study has confirmed the flat Earth theory.”
2. The zeal of refutation. “From school we were lied to that our planet is a sphere. Now I will debunk this global lie point by point, using their own physics textbook for grades 10–11.”
3. Radicalism. “Round-earthers are idiots; without them the world will be much better.”
4. False syllogisms (unquestioned premises). “Ask any sailor what is used for navigation on a ship and he will say: flat charts. If the Earth were a sphere, ship crews would navigate by a globe.”
5. Rejection by specialists. If required, official science will explain the position clearly to you—even ChatGPT.

Now we can return to the mysterious story of Pavel Durov’s arrest to finally grasp “the whole truth” about the incident.

“Polyphemus-258”

In my colleague’s version, the head of Telegram cut a deal with the authorities in exchange for refuge in a country he deems safe (that he is already a French citizen we set aside). The thesis “Durov sent himself to prison” is sufficiently sensational.

Moreover, blaming the victim is the best strategy if you want to catch the eye of a target audience predisposed to think that “it’s not that simple” and “owls are not what they seem.”

If you like, we can add beneficiaries beyond the obvious Durov. Let these be some “French elites,” for example President Emmanuel Macron.

Why is Macron using a messenger for pedophiles and terrorists—is he a pedophile and a terrorist? pic.twitter.com/iRUS5N5Q9x

— Андрей Плешаков (@andreywhitily) August 25, 2024

Now we must urgently refute something. Take an undisputed fact: for instance, that Durov has been released on bail and is under judicial supervision.

Two options follow. First: the head of Telegram remains in a black site; a deepfake “walked out” in his stead, and Durov’s social posts are written and published by the French services.

Second: the businessman is not in France at all. In exchange for freedom (and life), he was moved to one of the republic’s overseas territories—say, New Caledonia. There he is using his knowledge for total surveillance of local separatists under project “Polyphemus-258” (secret services and orders love all things Greek). Macron is already negotiating with counterparts in China, Russia and the US, choosing whom to sell the end product to, whose name encodes the square root of 666.

Whichever option you pick, launch the hashtag #WhereIsPavel to spread the conspiracy, find fellow travellers, mobilise the community. To sustain interest you can even provoke spats between those who believe in a black site and those preparing an expedition to New Caledonia. Sooner or later one camp will radicalise of its own accord, start spamming aggressive memes, get banned on Telegram for it and thus believe in its own truth all the more.

“Feed Rurov”

False syllogisms? ChatGPT will oblige; experts say artificial intelligence is taking the manufacture of fakes to a qualitatively new level. After a few leading questions about the hashtag #FreeDurov, the chatbot offered this guess:

“The words ‘FreeDurov’ can be considered as an anagram. For example, ‘Feed Rurov’ (which can be interpreted as ‘feed Rurov’).”

How right Sam Altman is. It remains to identify this mysterious Rurov. That is easy; no ChatGPT required. Obviously, it is a nod to the play R.U.R. (1920) by the Czech writer Karel Čapek, in which the word “robot” first appeared.

Thus, via the hashtag the conspirators passed to one another, in cipher, an instruction to feed the machine. This can be read as a call to “feed AI” with big data—and what is Telegram users’ correspondence if not Big Data?

On the other hand, the “-ov” ending and the author’s nationality point to the traditionally Slavic lands—namely, Czechia. Here one should watch the news closely, awaiting the moment that confirms the theory that the Durovgate participants are feeding a robot Moloch in central Prague.

Or recall the historical region in Czechia called Bohemia. Conspiracy fans have already guessed that all roads lead to Bohemian Grove—the place where American elites gather under the strictest secrecy.

Now it all fits: Durov himself flew to the cradle of Freemasonry to distract reporters tracking his movements. Armed with a cast-iron alibi, he set off for Bohemian Grove, where an initiation rite into a secret order of crypto-Illuminati awaits.

At the ceremony he will solemnly hand the High Priest the Telegram encryption keys so the elites can read all your correspondence and use it to hasten artificial general intelligence (AGI). And, of course, the end of the world.

Conclusions

Telegram’s founder, Pavel Durov, is at liberty and awaits a bloody initiation rite at Bohemian Grove. All messenger user data will be fed to a cybernetic Moloch with AGI.

As expected, modern language models can serve as aides to the aspiring conspiracist. Always verify information carefully, especially anything “sensational.”