Eastern Christianity and Politics in the Twenty-First Century 9781315819037

Table of contents :
Cover
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Table of Contents
List of figures
List of tables
Notes on contributors
Acknowledgements
Abbreviations
1 Eastern Christianity and politics in the twenty-first century: an overview
PART I Chalcedonian churches
2 The Ecumenical Patriarchate
3 The Russian Orthodox Church
4 The Serbian Orthodox Church
5 The Romanian Orthodox Church
6 The Bulgarian Orthodox Church
7 The Georgian Orthodox Church
8 The Orthodox Church of Cyprus
9 The Orthodox Church of Greece
10 The Polish Orthodox Church
11 The Orthodox Autocephalous Church of Albania
12 The Orthodox Church in the Czech Lands and Slovakia
13 Orthodox churches in America
14 The Finnish Orthodox Church
15 Orthodox churches in Estonia
16 Orthodox churches in Ukraine
17 The Belarusian Orthodox Church
18 The Orthodox Church in Lithuania
19 The Latvian Orthodox Church
20 Orthodox churches in Abkhazia, South Ossetia and Transnistria
21 Orthodox churches in Moldova
22 The Macedonian Orthodox Church
23 The Orthodox churches in China, Japan and Korea
24 Orthodox churches in Australia
PART II Non-Chalcedonian churches
25 The Armenian Apostolic Church
26 The Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church and the Eritrean Orthodox Tewahedo Church
27 The Coptic Orthodox Church
28 The Syrian Orthodox Church
29 Syrian Christian churches in India
PART III The Holy Apostolic Catholic Assyrian Church of the East
30 The Holy Apostolic Catholic Assyrian Church of the East
PART IV Greek Catholic churches in Eastern Europe
31 The Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church
32 The Romanian Greek Catholic Church
33 The Bulgarian Eastern Catholic Church
34 The Hungarian Greek Catholic Church
PART V Challenges in the twenty-fi rst century
35 Orthodox churches and migration
36 The Greek Catholic churches in post-war Catholic–Orthodox relations
37 Secularism without liberalism: Orthodox churches, human rights and American foreign policy in Southeastern Europe
38 Orthodox Christianity and globalisation
Bibliography
Index

Citation preview

‘This excellent collection brings together some of the best researchers in the field, who skilfully tackle the problem of applying traditional understandings of religion and politics or secularisation theory to the world of Eastern Christianity. They offer new insights into the ways in which churches have coped with the particular challenges they face in responding to political reconstruction, nation-building, political conflict, religious pluralism and the consequences of globalisation.’ John Anderson, Professor of International Relations, University of St Andrews, UK ‘An impressive panorama of encyclopaedic scope on the problems and prospects of the Eastern Churches. The chapters provide convincing evidence on the renewal of religious life and on the strivings of the Orthodox and other Eastern Churches to come to grips with the challenges of the twenty-first century.’ Paschalis Kitromilides, Professor of Political Science, University of Athens, Greece ‘One of the difficulties in understanding the politics of the peoples of Eastern Europe and their various diasporas, for example in Serbia and Ukraine, is due to the culpable ignorance of western journalists of the role of religion in Orthodox cultures. This book provides a comprehensive and authoritative coverage that could do much to increase our understanding.’ David Martin, Professor Emeritus of Sociology, London School of Economics and Political Science and Fellow of the British Academy, UK ‘This timely collection of essays provides a thorough and nuanced understanding of the multifaceted role of Eastern Christianity and politics that takes us beyond the caricatures of the so-called “clash of civilizations”. In this globalised post-secular age of the resurgence of religion, this book reveals how the form of the relation between Eastern Christianity and politics is specific to the particular part of the world in which Eastern Christianity finds itself – Eastern Europe, Middle East, Asia, North Africa or the diaspora communities of North America, Western Europe and Australia. Given the utter ignorance of the complexities of Eastern Christianity that pervades western academic discourse, this book is a must read for scholars and students of international relations, politics and the study of religion, as well as government officials interested in a well-informed and serious engagement with politics in light of – not in spite of – religion.’ Aristotle Papanikolaou, Archbishop Demetrios Chair in Orthodox Theology and Culture, Fordham University, USA

‘Lucian Leustean has established himself as the pre-eminent scholar of the Orthodox and other Eastern Churches. This fascinating collection of essays, all written by authoritative researchers, discusses the myriad issues facing the Orthodox world on every continent. Among the key issues of twenty-first-century state relations discussed are the tension between the Russian Orthodox and Ukrainian Greek Catholic communities in Ukraine, the roles of the Georgian Church in asserting that people’s nationhood and that of the nearby Orthodox Church in Abkhazia, and, in the cauldron of the Middle East, the politics of the Coptic Church in Egypt and the various churches of Syria. For students of the coloured revolutions and the Arab Spring, this book is a must-read.’ Geoffrey Swain, Alec Nove Chair in Russian and East European Studies, University of Glasgow, UK

Eastern Christianity and Politics in the Twenty-First Century

This book provides an up-to-date, comprehensive overview of Eastern Christian churches in Europe, the Middle East, America, Africa, Asia and Australia. Written by leading international scholars in the field, it examines both Orthodox and Oriental churches from the end of the Cold War until the present day. The book offers a unique insight into the myriad church– state relations in Eastern Christianity and tackles contemporary concerns, opportunities and challenges, such as religious revival after the fall of communism; churches and democracy; relations between Orthodox, Catholic and Greek Catholic churches; religious education and monastic life; the size and structure of congregations; and the impact of migration, secularisation and globalisation on Eastern Christianity in the twenty-first century. Lucian N. Leustean is a Senior Lecturer in Politics and International Relations at Aston University, Birmingham, UK.

Routledge Contemporary Russia and Eastern Europe Series

9

Russian Television Today Primetime drama and comedy David MacFadyen

1

Liberal Nationalism in Central Europe Stefan Auer

2

Civil-Military Relations in Russia and Eastern Europe David J. Betz

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The Extreme Nationalist Threat in Russia The growing influence of Western Rightist ideas Thomas Parland

The Rebuilding of Greater Russia Putin’s foreign policy towards the CIS countries Bertil Nygren

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A Russian Factory Enters the Market Economy Claudio Morrison

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Democracy Building and Civil Society in Post-Soviet Armenia Armine Ishkanian

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NATO-Russia Relations in the Twenty-First Century Aurel Braun

14

Russian Military Reform A failed exercise in defence decision making Carolina Vendil Pallin

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The Telengits of Southern Siberia Landscape, religion and knowledge in motion Agnieszka Halemba

The Multilateral Dimension in Russian Foreign Policy Edited by Elana Wilson Rowe and Stina Torjesen

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The Development of Capitalism in Russia Simon Clarke

Russian Nationalism and the National Reassertion of Russia Edited by Marlène Laruelle

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The Caucasus – An Introduction Frederik Coene

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4

Economic Development in Tatarstan Global markets and a Russian region Leo McCann

5

Adapting to Russia’s New Labour Market Gender and employment strategy Edited by Sarah Ashwin

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7

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Building Democracy and Civil Society East of the Elbe Essays in honour of Edmund Mokrzycki Edited by Sven Eliaeson

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Radical Islam in the Former Soviet Union Edited by Galina M. Yemelianova

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Russia’s European Agenda and the Baltic States Janina Šleivytė

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Regional Development in Central and Eastern Europe: Development processes and policy challenges Edited by Grzegorz Gorzelak, John Bachtler and Maciej Smętkowski

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Russia and Europe Reaching agreements, digging trenches Kjell Engelbrekt and Bertil Nygren

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Russia’s Skinheads Exploring and rethinking subcultural lives Hilary Pilkington, Elena Omel’chenko and Al’bina Garifzianova

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The Colour Revolutions in the Former Soviet Republics Successes and failures Edited by Donnacha Ó Beacháin and Abel Polese

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Russian Mass Media and Changing Values Edited by Arja Rosenholm, Kaarle Nordenstreng and Elena Trubina The Heritage of Soviet Oriental Studies Edited by Michael Kemper and Stephan Conermann

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Religion and Language in Post-Soviet Russia Brian P. Bennett

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Jewish Women Writers in the Soviet Union Rina Lapidus

28

Chinese Migrants in Russia, Central Asia and Eastern Europe Edited by Felix B. Chang and Sunnie T. Rucker-Chang

29

Poland’s EU Accession Sergiusz Trzeciak

30

The Russian Armed Forces in Transition Economic, geopolitical and institutional uncertainties Edited by Roger N. McDermott, Bertil Nygren and Carolina Vendil Pallin

31

The Religious Factor in Russia’s Foreign Policy Alicja Curanović

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Postcommunist Film – Russia, Eastern Europe and World Culture Moving images of postcommunism Edited by Lars Kristensen

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Russian Multinationals From regional supremacy to global lead Andrei Panibratov

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Russian Anthropology after the Collapse of Communism Edited by Albert Baiburin, Catriona Kelly and Nikolai Vakhtin

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The Post-Soviet Russian Orthodox Church Politics, culture and Greater Russia Katja Richters

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Lenin’s Terror The ideological origins of early Soviet State violence James Ryan

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Life in Post-Communist Eastern Europe after EU Membership Edited by Donnacha Ó Beacháin, Vera Sheridan and Sabina Stan

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EU–Russian Border Security Challenges, (mis)perceptions, and responses Serghei Golunov

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Power and Legitimacy – Challenges from Russia Edited by Per-Arne Bodin, Stefan Hedlund and Elena Namli

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Managing Ethnic Diversity in Russia Edited by Oleh Protsyk and Benedikt Harzl

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Believing in Russia – Religious Policy after Communism Geraldine Fagan

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The Changing Russian University From state to market Tatiana Maximova-Mentzoni

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The Transition to National Armies in the Former Soviet Republics, 1988–2005 Jesse Paul Lehrke

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The Fall of the Iron Curtain and the Culture of Europe Peter I. Barta

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Russia after 2012 From Putin to Medvedev to Putin – continuity, change, or revolution? Edited by J.L. Black and Michael Johns Business in Post-Communist Russia Privatisation and the limits of transformation Mikhail Glazunov Rural Inequality in Divided Russia Stephen K. Wegren

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Business Leaders and New Varieties of Capitalism in Post-Communist Europe Edited by Katharina Bluhm, Bernd Martens and Vera Trappmann

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Russian Energy and Security up to 2030 Edited by Susanne Oxenstierna and Veli-Pekka Tynkkynen

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The Informal Post-Socialist Economy Embedded practices and livelihoods Edited by Jeremy Morris and Abel Polese

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Russia and East Asia Informal and gradual integration Edited by Tsuneo Akaha and Anna Vassilieva

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The Making of Modern Georgia, 1918–2012 The first Georgian Republic and its successors Edited by Stephen F. Jones

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Digital Russia The language, culture and politics of new media communication Edited by Michael S. Gorham, Ingunn Lunde and Martin Paulsen

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Eastern Christianity and Politics in the Twenty-First Century Edited by Lucian N. Leustean

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Punk in Russia Cultural mutation from the “useless” to the “moronic” Ivan Gololobov, Hilary Pilkington and Yngvar B. Steinholt

Eastern Christianity and Politics in the Twenty-First Century Edited by Lucian N. Leustean

First published 2014 by Routledge 2 Park Square, Milton Park, Abingdon, Oxon OX14 4RN and by Routledge 711 Third Avenue, New York, NY 10017 Routledge is an imprint of the Taylor & Francis Group, an informa business © 2014 Lucian N. Leustean The right of the editor to be identified as the author of the editorial material, and of the authors for their individual chapters, has been asserted in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilised in any form or by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publishers. Trademark notice: Product or corporate names may be trademarks or registered trademarks, and are used only for identification and explanation without intent to infringe. British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library Library of Congress Cataloguing in Publication data Eastern Christianity and politics in the twenty-first century / edited by Lucian N. Leustean. pages cm. – (Routledge contemporary Russia and Eastern Europe series ; 54) Includes bibliographical references and index. 1. Eastern churches–History. 2. Orthodox Eastern Church–History. 3. Oriental Orthodox Churches–History. 4. Catholic Church–Oriental rites–History. 5. Assyrian Church of the East–History. I. Leustean, Lucian, editor of compilation. BX101.E378 2014 281′.509051–dc23 2013040106 ISBN: 978-0-415-68490-3 (hbk) ISBN: 978-1-315-81903-7 (ebk) Typeset in Times New Roman by Out of House Publishing

To my fellow scholars on Eastern Christianity

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Contents

List of figures List of tables Notes on contributors Acknowledgements Abbreviations 1

Eastern Christianity and politics in the twenty-first century: an overview

xv xvi xvii xxxi xxxii

1

L U C I AN N . L EU STEA N

PART I

Chalcedonian churches

21

2

23

The Ecumenical Patriarchate L U C I AN N . L EU STEA N

3

The Russian Orthodox Church

38

Z OE K N OX AN D A N A STA SI A MI TR O FA N O V A

4

The Serbian Orthodox Church

67

K L AU S B U C H E N A U

5

The Romanian Orthodox Church

94

L U C I AN T U RCESC U A N D LA V I N I A STA N

6

The Bulgarian Orthodox Church

114

D AN I E L A K ALK A N D JI EV A

7

The Georgian Orthodox Church P AU L C RE G O

140

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Contents

8 The Orthodox Church of Cyprus

161

V I C T OR RO U D O METO F A N D I R EN E D I ETZ E L

9 The Orthodox Church of Greece

181

V ASI L I OS N. MA K R I D ES

10 The Polish Orthodox Church

210

E D WARD D . WY N O T

11 The Orthodox Autocephalous Church of Albania

231

N I C H OL AS PA N O

12 The Orthodox Church in the Czech Lands and Slovakia

240

T OM Á Š H AVL Í Č EK

13 Orthodox churches in America

251

AL E XE I D . K R I N D A TC H A N D JO H N H . ER I CKS ON

14 The Finnish Orthodox Church

280

T E U V O L AI TI LA

15 Orthodox churches in Estonia

295

S E B AS T I AN R I MESTA D

16 Orthodox churches in Ukraine

312

Z E N ON V . W A SY LI W

17 The Belarusian Orthodox Church

334

S E RG E I A. M U D R O V

18 The Orthodox Church in Lithuania

357

RE G I N A L AU K A I TY T Ė

19 The Latvian Orthodox Church

370

I N E S E RU NC E A N D JELEN A A V A N ESO V A

20 Orthodox churches in Abkhazia, South Ossetia and Transnistria

387

K I MI T AK A MA TSU ZA TO

21 Orthodox churches in Moldova

402

AN D RE I AV R A M

22 The Macedonian Orthodox Church

426

T OD OR C E PR EG A N O V , MA JA A N G ELO V SKA-PANOVA AND D RAG AN Z A JK O V SK I

23 The Orthodox churches in China, Japan and Korea K E V I N B AK ER

439

Contents 24 Orthodox churches in Australia

xiii

453

J AME S J U P P

PART II

Non-Chalcedonian churches

469

25 The Armenian Apostolic Church

471

H RAT C H T C H I LI N G I R I A N

26 The Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church and the Eritrean Orthodox Tewahedo Church

498

ST É P H AN E ANC EL, G I U LI A BO N A C C I A N D JOACHIM PERS OON

27 The Coptic Orthodox Church

521

F I ON A MC C ALLU M

28 The Syrian Orthodox Church

542

E RI C A C . D . HU N TER

29 Syrian Christian churches in India

563

M. P . J OSE P H , U D A Y BA LA K R I SH N A N A N D I S TV Á N PERCZE L

PART III

The Holy Apostolic Catholic Assyrian Church of the East

599

30 The Holy Apostolic Catholic Assyrian Church of the East

601

E RI C A C . D . HU N TER

PART IV

Greek Catholic churches in Eastern Europe

621

31 The Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church

623

N AT AL I A SH L I K H TA

32 The Romanian Greek Catholic Church

656

C I P RI AN G H I Ș A A N D LU C I A N N . LEU STEA N

33 The Bulgarian Eastern Catholic Church

681

D AN I E L A K ALK A N D JI EV A

34 The Hungarian Greek Catholic Church ST É P H AN I E M A H I EU

704

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Contents

PART V

Challenges in the twenty-first century

721

35 Orthodox churches and migration

723

K RI ST I N A STO EC K L

36 The Greek Catholic churches in post-war Catholic–Orthodox relations

737

T H OMAS B REMER

37 Secularism without liberalism: Orthodox churches, human rights and American foreign policy in Southeastern Europe

754

K RI ST E N G H O D SEE

38 Orthodox Christianity and globalisation

776

V I C T OR RO U D O METO F

Bibliography Index

795 810

Figures

13.1 Average percentage of use of the English language in the parishes of various Orthodox jurisdictions in the United States, 2010 13.2 Strength of ethnic identity in the parishes of various Orthodox jurisdictions in the United States, 2010

272 274

Tables

7.1 Eparchy/church statistics (number of churches and monasteries) in the Georgian Orthodox Church, 1977–2007 12.1 Orthodox presence (absolute and relative numbers of Orthodox believers) in the Czech Republic and Slovakia 13.1 Eastern Orthodox churches in the United States, 2010 13.2 Oriental Orthodox churches in the United States, 2010 15.1 The two Orthodox churches in Estonia, 1 January 2011 24.1 Orthodox and related membership in Australia in order of size, 2006 31.1 The church network in Western and Transcarpathian Ukraine, 1959

155 248 252 254 301 463 629

Contributors

Stéphane Ancel received a PhD in Ethiopian History from the National Institute of Oriental Languages and Civilization of Paris (INALCO) in 2006 and was Assistant Professor at Addis Ababa University from 2007 until 2009. He is currently researcher for the Ethio-Spare programme, ERC-Hamburg University. He continues his research on the contemporary history of the Ethiopian Orthodox Church and the Ethiopian manuscript tradition. His research has been published in international journals including Aethiopica, Revue d’histoire ecclésiastique, Cahier d’études africaines and Rassegna di Studi Etiopici. Maja Angelovska-Panova is Professor in the Department of Ancient and Medieval History at the Institute of National History, Skopje. She works on heresy and monasticism in Byzantium and on issues related to religions and cults in Macedonia and the Balkans. Her latest publications include: Bogomilstvoto vo duhovnata kultura na Makedonija [Bogomilism in the Spiritual Culture of Macedonia], Skopje: Az-Buki: Institut za staroslovenska kultura, 2004 and Religiskite formacii i rodovite identiteti [Religious Formations and Gender Identities], Skopje: Sak-Stil, 2010. Jelena Avanesova is Scientific Assistant in the Advanced Social and Political Research Institute at the Faculty of Social Sciences at the University of Latvia. She graduated from the Stockholm School of Economics in Riga and the American Institute on Political and Economic Systems Programme in Prague. Her interest in differences of self-identification and attitudes of Baltic inhabitants led to her MA thesis on ‘The Role of the Orthodox Church in the Preservation of Russian Identity of Russian-Speakers in Latvia and Estonia’ at the University of Latvia. Her research on the Latvian Orthodox Church continues alongside her doctoral studies in the Department of Sociology, the University of Latvia. Andrei Avram (MA in Political Science at the Free University of Berlin) is currently serving as a researcher and programme coordinator with the Rule of Law Programme South-East Europe of the Konrad Adenauer Foundation. He was previously an adviser in the cabinet of former Romanian Foreign Minister Teodor Baconschi. His academic focus lies

xviii

Notes on contributors

in the post-Soviet region, especially on the politics of nation-building and rule of law in the Republic of Moldova and on the relations between the Republic of Moldova and the European Union. Kevin Baker is a Roman Catholic deacon. He has held professorships in management in Germany and China, and has been a Visiting Fellow at the Australian National University. Kevin is currently a Visiting Fellow at the University of New South Wales, Australian Defence Force Academy. He recently published A History of the Orthodox Church in China, Korea, and Japan (2006). Uday Balakrishnan, formerly of India’s higher civil services, is currently Visiting Scholar at the Centre for Contemporary Studies – Indian Institute of Sciences, Bangalore. He has contributed significantly towards the financial empowerment of India’s rural poor and has driven the country’s efforts to eliminate child labour in what became the largest effort of its kind worldwide. He has held several important positions in the Indian Government and was also the administrative head of the Indian Institute of Science Bangalore. He holds postgraduate qualifications from Andhra University as well as the University of Manchester and has contributed to some of India’s best-known newspapers and journals. He has also lectured at such prestigious institutions as the Jawaharlal Nehru University and the National Institute of Advanced Study and has been an invitee to the Wissenschaftskolleg–Berlin. Balakrishnan conceptualised and co-produced a nationally telecast four-part television documentary on India’s west coast. He was Visiting Fellow at Central European University, Budapest (2007 and 2010–11) and a member of the Organizing Committee of the Conference on Gandhi in a Globalized world held in Budapest in 2008. He is currently completing a book on India’s first three years of freedom and events leading up to it. Giulia Bonacci is a historian and researcher at the Institute of Research for Development (IRD) and at the Research Unit on Migrations and Societies (URMIS) in Paris. She is currently at the French Centre for Ethiopian Studies (CFEE) in Addis Ababa. Her research on the Ethiopian Orthodox Church, The Ethiopian Orthodox Church and the State, 1974–1991: Analysis of an Ambiguous Religious Policy, was published in 2000 by the Centre for Ethiopian Studies in London. Her latest book, Exodus! L’histoire du retour des Rastafariens en Ethiopie, 2nd edn, Paris: L’Harmattan, 2010, is being translated into Amharic and English. Thomas Bremer is Professor of Ecumenical Theology (Eastern Churches) and Peace Studies at the Faculty of Catholic Theology, University of Münster, Germany. His publications include Cross and Kremlin: A Brief History of the Orthodox Church in Russia, Grand Rapids, 2013; Eastern Orthodox Encounters of Identity and Otherness: Values, Self-Reflection, Dialogue, New York, 2014; Religion and the Conceptual Boundary in Central and

Notes on contributors

xix

Eastern Europe: Encounters of Faiths, Basingstoke, 2008; Konfrontation statt Ökumene: Zur kirchlichen Situation in der Ukraine, Erfurt, 2001; and Glaubenssache: Kirche und Politik im Osten Europas, Berlin, 2009. Klaus Buchenau studied history and Slavonic languages in Berlin, Moscow and Warsaw. His scientific inquiry into Yugoslav religious questions emerged in 1998 when he began working on a comparison of Orthodoxy and Catholicism in socialist Yugoslavia. The book appeared in 2004 under the title Orthodoxie und Katholizismus in Jugoslawien, 1945–1991: Ein serbischkroatischer Vergleich [Orthodoxy and Catholicism in Yugoslavia, 1945– 1991: A Serb-Croat Comparison], published by Harrassowitz Verlag. He then turned towards the history of Serb Orthodox anti-Westernism. This research, which took him to the archives not only of interwar Yugoslavia, but also of tsarist and communist Russia and the Third Reich, resulted in a book titled Auf russischen Spuren: Orthodoxe Antiwestler in Serbien, 1850–1945 [On Russian Traces: Orthodox Anti-Westerners in Serbia, 1850–1945], published by Harrassowitz Verlag in 2011. Until 2009, Klaus Buchenau worked and taught at the Freie Universität Berlin. Between 2009 and 2013 he was a Fellow at the Ludwig-Maximilians-Universität Munich, where he researched conversions from Catholicism to Orthodoxy in interwar Czechoslovakia. Since 2013, he has become Professor of Southeast European history at the University of Regensburg. Besides religion, his current research interests also include language policies and the history of corruption. Todor Cepreganov is Professor and Director of the Institute of National History in Skopje. His research interests focus on relations between the Great Powers, the Balkans and Macedonia from 1918 until today. He has held fellowships in the United States, the United Kingdom, Bulgaria and Serbia. His latest publications include: Istorija na makedonskiot narod [The History of the Macedonian People], Skopje: Institute of National History, 2008; Svedoshtva za makedonskiot identitet [Testimonies of Macedonian Identity, Eighteenth–Twentieth Centuries], Skopje: Institute of National History, 2010; Gragjanskata vojna vo Grcija vo britanskata diplomatska korespondencija 1945–1949. Dokumenti [The Greek Civil War in the British Diplomatic Correspondence. Documents], Skopje: Institute of National History, 2011; and Velika Britanija i Makedonija. Dokumenti (1918–1940) [Great Britain and Macedonia. 1918–1940. Documents], Skopje: Institute of National History, 2011. Paul Crego (PhD, Theology, Boston College, 1993) is a Senior Cataloguing Specialist and Acquisitions Librarian at the Library of Congress in Washington, DC. He is responsible primarily for the cataloguing of books in Georgian and Armenian. In 2007–8 he was the Staff Fellow in the John W. Kluge Scholarly Center of the Library of Congress, studying Abkhazia as the major theme of his fellowship year. He also holds an MDiv (Harvard,

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Notes on contributors 1983), an MA in the Soviet Union Program (Harvard, 1979) and a BA in Soviet and East European Studies (Syracuse, 1976). He began his study of Georgian in 1977 and was a student at the First Summer School in Kartvelian Studies at Tbilisi State University in the summer of 1990. Over the past three decades he has delivered many lectures on Georgian topics in the United States and Georgia. He also delivers lectures on church history covering a wide range of topics. His publications include an article co-authored with Stephen H. Rapp, ‘The Conversion of K’art’li: The Shatberdi Variant Kek.Inst. S-1141’, Le Museon, 2006, 119 (1–2), 169–226, and an edited volume with Stephen H. Rapp, Jr., Languages and Cultures of Eastern Christianity: Georgian, Ashgate, 2012.

Irene Dietzel is a researcher of religion specialising in Orthodox culture in the Eastern Mediterranean. Her main research interests include religious pluralism, anthropology of religion and religion and ecology. She has conducted fieldwork in Greece and Cyprus and has recently obtained her PhD from the University of Erfurt with a study on the ‘Ecology of Ethnic Coexistence and Conflict in Cyprus’. John H. Erickson is the Peter N. Gramowich Professor of Church History, Emeritus, and former Dean of St. Vladimir’s Orthodox Theological Seminary, Crestwood NY, where he taught from 1973 until his retirement in 2009. His publications include The Challenge of Our Past: Essays in Orthodox Church History and Canon Law, St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 1990; The Quest for Unity: Orthodox and Catholics in Dialogue, St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press and US Catholic Conference, 1996; and Orthodox Christians in America: A Brief History, Oxford University Press, 1999, rev. edn, 2008. Ciprian Ghișa is a Lecturer in Theology at the Faculty of Greek Catholic Theology, ‘Babes-Bolyai’ University in Cluj-Napoca, Romania. He is the author of Biserica Greco-Catolică din Transilvania (1700–1850). Elaborarea discursului identitar [The Greek Catholic Church from Transylvania. Elaboration of the Identitary Discourse], Cluj-Napoca: Presa Universitară Clujeană, 2006; and Ioan Lemeni – Episcopia Greco-Catolică de Făgăraş în timpul păstoririi lui Ioan Lemeni 1832–1850 [The Greek Catholic Bishopric of Făgăraş during the Leadership of Bishop Ioan Lemeni], 2 vols, ClujNapoca: Argonaut, 2008. Kristen Ghodsee earned her PhD at Berkeley and is the Director and John S. Osterweis Associate Professor in Gender and Women’s Studies at Bowdoin College, Brunswick, ME, USA. She is the author of numerous articles and books including The Red Riviera: Gender, Tourism and Postsocialism on the Black Sea (Duke University Press, 2005) and Muslim Lives in Eastern Europe: Gender, Ethnicity and the Transformation of Islam in Postsocialist Bulgaria (Princeton University Press, 2010), which won the 2010 Barbara Heldt Book Prize, the 2011 John D. Bell Book Prize, the 2011 Davis Centre Book Prize and the 2011 William Douglass Prize for Best Book in Europeanist

Notes on contributors

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Anthropology. Her most recent book is Lost in Transition: Ethnographies of Everyday Life after Communism (Duke University Press, 2011). Her research focuses on gender, socialism and postsocialism and has been supported by numerous prestigious fellowships including residential research fellowships at the Woodrow Wilson International Center for Scholars in Washington, DC; the Max Planck Institute for Demographic Research in Rostock, Germany; the Institute for Advanced Study in Princeton, NJ; and the Radcliffe Institute for Advanced Study at Harvard University. Tomáš Havlíček is Assistant Professor at the Department of Social Geography and Regional Development of the Charles University in Prague. He specialises in the geography of religion, geography of border regions and peripheral regions. He collaborates with the workgroup on geography of religion at the German Geographical Society and a member of the International Society for the Sociology of Religion. His latest publications include ‘Religious Landscape in Czechia: New Structures and Trends’, Geografie, 2008, 113 (3), 302–19; ‘Church–State Relations in Czechia’, GeoJournal, 2006, 67 (4), 331–40; and ‘The Czechoslovak Orthodox Church’, in Eastern Christianity and the Cold War, 1945–91, Lucian N. Leustean (ed.), Abingdon and New York: Routledge, 2010, pp. 137–43. Erica C. D. Hunter is Senior Lecturer in Eastern Christianity and Chair, Centre of Eastern and Orthodox Christianity, Department for the Study of Religions, SOAS, University of London. With particular interests in Syriac Christianity, especially in Iraq, she inaugurated the annual Christianity in Iraq Seminar Days, in 2004. She was Principal Investigator for the AHRC-funded project, ‘The Christian Library from Turfan’ (2008–11) and is continuing to explore the connections between Syriac Christianity in Mesopotamia and western China during the early medieval period as part of a sequel AHRC-funded project, ‘The Transmission of Christian Texts at Turfan’ (2012–15). Her publications include The Christian Heritage of Iraq: collected papers from the Christianity in Iraq I-V Seminar Days [Gorgias Eastern Christian Series 13], Piscataway, NJ: Gorgias Press, 2009, and ‘Coping in Kurdistan: the Christian Diaspora’ in Khanna Omarkhali (ed.), Religious Minorities and Political Changes in Kurdistan, Wiesbaden: Harrasowitz, 2014. M. P. Joseph (Joseph Menacherry), a Syrian Christian, is deeply interested in the history and the present of Kerala’s Syrian Christianity. Presently Adviser to the Government of Kerala with the rank of an Additional Chief Secretary, Joseph joined India’s prestigious civil service, the IAS, in 1978 and was Collector and District Magistrate in the Ernakulam District, where the Syro-Malabar Rite of the Catholic Church is headquartered. As mayor of Cochin, Joseph welcomed and played host to Pope John Paul II during the Pontiff’s five-day visit to the city in 1985. Joining the UN’s International Labour Organization in 1992, Joseph campaigned against child labour in India. His work has led to an understanding of the

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economic potential of human resources and contributed to India’s Right to Education Act. Later in Cambodia, Joseph was awarded the prestigious Saha Meitrei Seva Medal by Prime Minister Hun Sen for his seven-year work on child labour there. His recent publication ‘A Study of Domestic Migrant Labour in Kerala’ analyses the context and impact of the 2.5 million domestic migrant labourers in Kerala. James Jupp is the editor of The Encyclopedia of Religion in Australia (Melbourne, Cambridge University Press, 2009). He is an Adjunct Associate Professor at the Australian National University, has taught political science in Australia, Britain and Canada and has travelled extensively in Eastern Europe, the Balkans, South Asia and the Middle East. He was awarded the Order of Australia for services to public policy in immigration and multiculturalism in 2004. His most recent publication is Multiculturalism and Integration, Canberra: ANU ePress, 2011. Daniela Kalkandjieva is affiliated with the Scientific Research Department of Sofia University ‘St Kliment Ohridski’. Her research interests are focused on Bulgarian religious history and the comparative study of Orthodox churches and societies. After defending a dissertation on ‘Ecclesio-Political Aspects of the International Activities of the Moscow Patriarchate (1917–1948)’ at the Central European University in Budapest, she was involved in various international and national research projects: ‘Religious Pluralism and Interfaith Dialogue in Bulgaria and Religion and the Public Sphere: Interdisciplinary Approaches’, supported by the Bulgarian National Scientific Fund, and ‘Religions and Values: Central and Eastern European Research Network’, supported by the Sixth FP of the European Commission, etc. She also wrote the monograph The Bulgarian Orthodox Church and the State, 1944–1953, Sofia: Albatros, 1997. Her most recent publications include: ‘А Comparative Analysis on Church–State Relations in Eastern Orthodoxy: Concepts, Models and Principles’, Journal of Church and State, 2011, 53 (4), 587–614; ‘The Bulgarian Orthodox Church and the “Ethics of Capitalism”’, Social Compass, 2010, 57 (1), 83–99; ‘Pre-Modern Orthodoxy: Church Features and Transformations’, Études Balkaniques, 2010 (4), 166–95; ‘The Bulgarian Orthodox Church’, in Eastern Christianity and the Cold War, 1945–91, Lucian N. Leustean (ed.), Abingdon and New York: Routledge, 2010, pp. 76–95. Zoe Knox is a Senior Lecturer in Modern Russian History at the University of Leicester, UK. Her research interests lie in religious life in Soviet and post-Soviet Russia and more broadly in religious tolerance and minority rights in the modern world. Her first monograph (Russian Society and the Orthodox Church: Religion in Russia after Communism, Routledge, 2005) examined religious dissidents in the USSR and non-conformist clergy in post-Soviet Russia and argued that the Church is not a monolithic entity, as Western analysts frequently portray it, but that Orthodoxy has

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had myriad influences in modern Russia. Her articles have appeared in Europe-Asia Studies, Religion, State and Society, Russian Review, Journal of the American Academy of Religion and Journal of Religious History, among other publications. Alexei D. Krindatch is a sociologist of religion and the research coordinator with the Assembly of Canonical Orthodox Bishops of North and Central America. He graduated cum laude from the Moscow State University with a major in human and economic geography. From 1991 to 2004, he worked as a research associate at the Centre of Geopolitical Studies of the Institute of Geography (Russian Academy of Sciences, Moscow, Russia). During 2005–9, he served as a research director at the Patriarch Athenagoras Orthodox Institute in Berkeley, CA and in 2010–11 directed the first US National Census of the American Orthodox Christian Churches. In 2011, he was appointed research coordinator with the newly established Assembly of Canonical Orthodox Bishops of North and Central America. His main publications include a monograph on Geography of Religions in Russia (1995) and Atlas of American Orthodox Christian Churches (2011). Teuvo Laitila completed a doctorate in cultural anthropology at the University of Helsinki in 2001 and has studied the history of religion and Orthodox church history. Since 2003 he has been an Associate Professor of Orthodox Church History at the University of Eastern Finland (Joensuu campus). His academic interests include Orthodox–state and Orthodox–Muslim relations in Eastern Europe, particularly in the Balkans and the FinnishKarelian region. Regina Laukaitytė is a Senior Research Fellow in the Department of TwentiethCentury History of the Lithuanian Institute of History. She is the author of Lietuvos vienuolijos: XX a. istorijos bruožai [Monastic Institutions in Lithuania: Features of their History in the Twentieth Century], Vilnius: Lietuvos istorijos institutas, 1997; Stačiatikių Bažnyčia Lietuvoje XX amžiuje [The Orthodox Church in Lithuania in the Twentieth Century], Vilnius: Lietuvos istorijos institutas, 2003; Lietuvos Bažnyčios vokiečių okupacijos metais (1941–1944) [Lithuanian Churches under German Occupation (1941–1944)], Vilnius: Lietuvos istorijos institutas, 2010. Her recent publications include ‘1863-ieji metai Lietuvos stačiatikių vyskupijos istorijoje’ [The 1863 Uprising in the History of the Diocese of Lithuania’s Orthodox], in Dvasininkija ir 1863 m. sukilimas buvusios Abiejų Tautų Respublikos žemėse [The Clergy and the Insurrection of 1863 in the Lands of the Former Republic of the Two Nations], Vilnius: Lietuvos istorijos institutas, 2009, pp. 169–89; ‘Lietuvos religinės mažumos 1918–1940 m.: valstybės globoje’ [Lithuania’s Religious Minorities in the Care of the State in 1918–1940], in Bažnyčios istorijos studijos [Studies in Church History], Vilnius: LKMA, 2010, vol. 3, pp. 243–70; ‘The Restitution of the Status of the Church in the Republic of Lithuania’, in Restitutions of Church

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Property, Michaela Moravèikova (ed.), Bratislava: Ustav pre vzt’ahy statu a cirkvi, 2010, pp. 203–14; ‘Rusai Lietuvoje vokiečių okupacijos metais (1941–1944)’ [Russians in the German Period of Occupation of Lithuania (1941–1944)], in Lietuvos istorijos metraštis, 2010 metai [The Yearbook of Lithuanian History, 2010], vol. 1, Vilnius: Lietuvos istorijos institutas, 2011, pp. 57–69; ‘The Interest of Lithuania’s Church in the Apostolic Activity in Russia and among Russians’, in Church History between Rome and Vilnius: Challenges to Christianity from the Early Modern Ages to the 20th Century, Vilnius: LKMA, 2012, pp. 103–20; ‘Rytų apeigų vyskupo Petro Būčio misija Lietuvoje (1930–1940 m.)’ [Mission of the Eastern-Rite Bishop Petras Būčys in Lithuania in 1930–1940], Istorija [History, Vilnius: Lietuvos edukologijos universitetas], 2012, 84, 26–37. Lucian N. Leustean is a Senior Lecturer in Politics and International Relations at the Aston Centre for Europe and the Associate Dean for Postgraduate Programmes in the School of Languages and Social Sciences at Aston University, Birmingham, United Kingdom. His publications include, as author, The Ecumenical Movement and the Making of the European Community, Oxford University Press, 2014; Orthodoxy and the Cold War. Religion and Political Power in Romania, 1947–65, Palgrave, 2009 (awarded the George Blazyza Prize in East European Studies by the British Association for Slavonic and East European Studies); as coeditor with John Madeley, Religion, Politics and Law in the European Union, Routledge, 2010; and, as editor, Eastern Christianity and the Cold War, 1945–91, Routledge, 2010; Representing Religion in the European Union: Does God Matter?, Routledge, 2013; and Orthodox Christianity and Nationalism and Nineteenth-Century Southeastern Europe, Fordham University Press, 2014. He is the founding editor of the Routledge Book Series on Religion, Society and Government in Eastern Europe and the Former Soviet States. Fiona McCallum is a Lecturer in the School of International Relations at the University of St Andrews, Scotland and a co-founder of the Christians in the Middle East Research Network. She is the author of Christian Religious Leadership in the Middle East, Edwin Mellen Press, 2010, and has published on the political role of Christians in the Middle East in journals including Middle Eastern Studies, Third World Quarterly and Islam and Christian–Muslim Relations. Stéphanie Mahieu completed her PhD thesis on the revival of the Romanian Greek Catholic Church after 1989 at the École des Hautes Études en Sciences Sociales (Paris) in 2003. She then held post-doctoral fellowships in Germany: at Europa-Viadrina University, Frankfurt (Oder) (2003–4) and the Max Planck Institute for Social Anthropology, Halle (Saale) in 2005, when she conducted research on the Hungarian Greek Catholic Church. In 2006–7, she was a Max Weber Fellow at the European University

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Institute in Florence, and between 2007 and 2011 she was a García Pelayo Fellow at the Centro de Estudios Políticos y Constitucionales in Madrid. She is currently working as a cultural heritage curator at the Albert Kahn Museum (Paris), in charge of exhibitions. In 2008, she co-edited, with Vlad Naumescu, the book Churches In-between: The Greek Catholic Churches in Postsocialist Europe, Halle Studies in the Anthropology of Eurasia, Berlin: LIT. Vasilios N. Makrides studied theology in Athens, as well as history of religions and sociology of religion at Harvard and Tübingen, from where he obtained his doctorate in 1991. He has taught at the University of Thessaly (Greece) and from 1999 has been Professor of Religious Studies (specialising in Orthodox Christianity) at the Faculty of Philosophy, University of Erfurt, Germany. His main research interests lie in the comparative religio-cultural history and sociology of Orthodox Christianity. His most recent books are Hellenic Temples and Christian Churches: A Concise History of the Religious Cultures of Greece from Antiquity to the Present, New York University Press, 2009, and, as co-editor with Victor Roudometof, Orthodox Christianity in Twenty-First Century Greece: The Role of Religion in Culture, Ethnicity and Politics, Ashgate, 2010. Kimitaka Matsuzato (Doctor of Law, Tokyo University, 1996) is a Professor at the Slavic Research Centre, Hokkaido University. He is a specialist in history and politics of the former Soviet countries. Since 2003, he has been involved in religious politics and politics around unrecognised states in the former Soviet Union. His recent publications include ‘Inter-Orthodox Relations and Transborder Nationalities in and around Unrecognised Abkhazia and Transnistria’, Religion, State and Society, 2009, 37 (3) and ‘South Ossetia and the Orthodox World: Official Churches, the Greek Old Calendarist Movement, and the So-called Alan Diocese’, Journal of Church and State, 2010, 52 (2). Anastasia Mitrofanova is Chair of Political Science, Church–State Relations and the Sociology of Religion at the Russian Orthodox University of St. John the Divine, Moscow. She received her MA (1994) and Cand. Sc. (1998) in political science from Moscow State University and her Doctor.Sc. (2005) from the Diplomatic Academy. Her research interests lie in Orthodox Christianity and politics and also in nationalism, ethnicity and religio-political extremism in the former Soviet Union. Her main publications include Politizatsiya pravoslavnogo mira [Politicisation of the Orthodox World, in Russian], 2004, and The Politicization of Russian Orthodoxy: Actors and Ideas, 2005. Sergei A. Mudrov received his Diploma in International Economic Relations from the Belarusian State University and a Bachelor of Theology degree from the Minsk Theological Seminary, Belarus. He holds a Master’s degree in International Relations from the University of Warwick and

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in Analysing Europe from the University of Maastricht. He worked as a journalist in print media and as a lecturer at Baranovichi State University, Belarus. In 2012 he obtained a PhD from the University of Salford, Manchester, United Kingdom, where he wrote his thesis on ‘The Role of Christian Churches in European Integration’. He is currently a lecturer at the Faculty of Economics and Law of Baranovichi State University, Belarus. His book Pravoslaviye v Evrope: Svidetelstva Nashikh Dnei [Orthodox Christianity in Europe: Testimonies of Our Days] was published in Minsk in 2013. Nicholas Pano is Professor and Dean Emeritus at Western Illinois University, and also Editor Emeritus of the Journal of Developing Areas. His recent publications include ‘The Albanian Orthodox Church’, in Eastern Christianity and the Cold War, 1945–91, Lucian N. Leustean (ed.), Abingdon: Routledge, 2010, pp. 144–55, and ‘Albania 1990–2010: Promise and Fulfilment’, Sudosteuropa Mitteilungen, 2011, 51 (1), 55–65. István Perczel has specialised in Late Antique and Byzantine intellectual history and Eastern Christian studies, especially in the history and culture of Indian Christianity. At present he is Professor of Byzantine and Eastern Christian Studies at the Department of Medieval Studies, Central European University, Budapest. He has received several fellowships in Germany, Greece, Italy, the USA and Israel. He taught as a Visiting Professor in Paris at the École Pratique des Hautes Études in 1995 and at the École des Hautes Études en Sciences Sociales in 2004 and 2010. In 2004 he and his colleagues founded the Centre for the Hellenic Traditions at Central European University, which was renamed Centre for Eastern Mediterranean Studies in 2010. Between 2005 and 2009, while on research leave from his university, he served as Research Associate at the Oriental Institute of Tübingen University, directing five years of fieldwork in Kerala for surveying, digitising and cataloguing the manuscript libraries of the St Thomas Christians. In India, together with others, in 2007 he also founded a local NGO, the Association for the Preservation of the St Thomas Christian Heritage, which is carrying on the work and has become a major agency for archival preservation. Joachim Persoon holds a BA in Old Testament and Orientalistics (History and Culture of the Islamic World) from the Hebrew University of Jerusalem (1983), and he studied iconography in the Ethiopian Patriarchate in Jerusalem. He has worked as a language teacher in Egypt and studied at the Coptic Orthodox Theological College. He completed his PhD in 2004 at the School of Oriental and African Studies (SOAS) in London, with a dissertation on contemporary Ethiopian monasticism. Since then he has worked for three years in Addis Ababa as a Lecturer and Researcher at the Holy Trinity Theological College, and for two years as Associate Professor at the Ale School of Fine Art and Design, both at Addis Ababa University.

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Sebastian Rimestad studied political science and religious studies in Aberdeen, Tartu and Erfurt. He completed his PhD on ‘The Challenges of Modernity to the Orthodox Churches of Estonia and Latvia (1917–1940)’ at the University of Erfurt in December 2011. His recent publications include, with Lukasz Fajfer, ‘The Patriarchates of Constantinople and Moscow in a Global Age: A Comparison’, International Journal for the Study of the Christian Church, 2011, 2–3, 211–27; ‘Die Russische Orthodoxe Kirche in den Ostseeprovinzen und in Litauen im Vergleich (1836–1905)’, in Zwischen Glaube und Nation, Markus Krzoska (ed.), Munich: Martin Meidenbauer, 2011, pp. 71–85; and The Challenges of Modernity to the Orthodox Church in Estonia and Latvia (1917–1940), Frankfurt/Main et al.: Peter Lang, 2012. Victor Roudometof is an Associate Professor in the Department of Social and Political Sciences at the University of Cyprus. His main research interests include the study of Orthodox Christianity, culture, globalisation and nationalism. He is the author of Nationalism, Globalization and Orthodoxy: the Social Origins of Ethnic Conflict in the Balkans, Westport, CT: Greenwood, 2001; Collective Memory, National Identity and Ethnic Conflict: Greece, Bulgaria and the Macedonian Question, Westport, CT: Praeger, 2002; and Globalization and Orthodox Christianity: the Transformations of a Religious Tradition, London: Routledge, 2014. He has also edited and co-edited several volumes and special issues of refereed journals (for full profile see www.roudometof.com). Currently, he is editing a special issue of the journal Religion, State & Society on Orthodox Christianity in Western Europe. Inese Runce holds a doctorate in history. She graduated from Fordham University (Graduate School of Religion and Religious Education) and the University of Latvia (Faculty of History and Philosophy). She is a leading researcher at the Institute of Philosophy and Sociology, the University of Latvia, and a lecturer in the Baltic Sea Region master program in the Faculty of Humanities, the University of Latvia. Her research and expertise focuses on regional, ethnic and religious sociology, the history of the church–state relations, and church history in Latvia. In 2013 she published a monograph on Mainīgās divspēles. Valsts un Baznīcas attiecības Latvijā: 1906–1940 [The Vacillating Double Games. Church–State Relations in Latvia: 1906–1940], Rīga: LU FSI. She is currently working on the history of the Catholic Church in Latvia after the Second Vatican Council. Natalia Shlikhta is an Associate Professor and the Head of the History Department, the National University of ‘Kyiv-Mohyla Academy’, Ukraine. She was awarded a doctorate by the Central European University, Budapest, in 2005 and in 2002–3 she studied at the Theological Faculty of the University of Cambridge. Her recent publications include: ‘Competing Concepts of “Reunification” behind the Liquidation of the Ukrainian

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Greek Catholic Church’, in Christianity and Modernity in Eastern Europe, Bruce R. Berglund and Brian Porter-Szücs (eds), Budapest and New York: CEU Press, 2010; a textbook on History of Soviet Society, Kyiv: NaUKMA, 2010 (in Ukrainian); and a monograph on The Church of Those Who Survived. Soviet Ukraine, mid-1940s–early 1970s, Kharkiv: Akta, 2011 (in Ukrainian). Lavinia Stan is an Associate Professor of Political Science at St. Francis Xavier University, Canada. She has worked mainly on democratisation, transitional justice and religion and politics with a focus on Eastern Europe. She is regional editor for Europe for the peer-reviewed Women’s Studies International Forum, member of the Scientific Council of the Institute for the Investigation of Communist Crimes and the Memory of Romania Exile (in Bucharest), member of the Social Science Adjudicating Commission of the Romanian Ministry of Education, past expert with Direction D: Fundamental Rights and Citizenship of the DirectorateGeneral for Justice, Freedom and Security of the European Commission and Vice-President of the Society for Romanian Studies. Her books include the three-volume Encyclopedia of Transitional Justice (edited with Nadya Nedelsky, Cambridge University Press, 2013); Church, State and Democracy in Expanding Europe (co-authored with Lucian Turcescu, Oxford University Press, 2011); Transitional Justice in Eastern Europe and the Former Soviet Union: Reckoning with the Communist Past (editor, Routledge, 2009); Religion and Politics in Post-Communist Romania (coauthored with Lucian Turcescu, Oxford University Press, 2007); Leaders and Laggards: Governance, Civicness and Ethnicity in Post-Communist Romania (Columbia University Press, 2003); and Romania in Transition (Dartmouth, 1997). Kristina Stoeckl is an APART Post-Doctoral Fellow in the Department of Political Sciences at the University of Vienna. She holds a PhD in Social and Political Sciences from the European University Institute, Florence (2007) and MA degrees in Comparative Literature and Russian from the University of Innsbruck (2001) and in International Relations and European Studies from the Central European University, Budapest (2003). Her current research focuses on Orthodox Christian responses to secular political modernity and on the idea of the postsecular in political philosophy. She has published articles in Religion, State and Society, European Journal of Social Theory, Journal of Ethnic and Migration Studies and Studies in East European Thought. She has recently published The Russian Orthodox Church and Human Rights, Routledge, 2014. Hratch Tchilingirian is a sociologist (with a particular reference to sociology of religion) and Associate Faculty Member of the Oriental Institute, University of Oxford. His research focuses on the Middle Eastern and Armenian Studies. From 2002 to March 2012 he taught and held various

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academic positions at the University of Cambridge. He received his PhD from the London School of Economics, Master of Public Administration from California State University, Northridge and Master of Divinity degree from St. Vladimir’s Orthodox Theological Seminary in New York. He is a graduate of the Armenian Patriarchal Seminary of Jerusalem. He was the Dean of St. Nersess Theological Seminary in New York from 1991 to 1994 and was co-publisher and editor of Window View of the Armenian Church, a quarterly magazine addressing issues in the church (published in San Jose, California, 1990–5). He has published many studies and articles on the Armenian Church and religion over the last two decades (www.hratch.info), including The Armenian Church. A Brief Introduction (Burbank, CA, 2008) and ‘Il catholicos e le sedi gerarchiche della Chiesa Apostolica Armenia’ [The Catholicos and the Hierarchical Sees of the Armenian Church], Storia religiosa dell’Armenia, Milan, 2010. Lucian Turcescu is a Full Professor and Chair of the Department of Theological Studies at Concordia University, Montreal, Canada. He has researched, published and taught in several areas, including early Christianity, religion and politics and ecumenism. To date he has authored, co-authored, and edited six books, half of which benefited from generous financial support from the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada. His most recent books include (with Lavinia Stan) Church, State, and Democracy in Expanding Europe, Oxford University Press, 2011, and Religion and Politics in Post-Communist Romania, Oxford University Press, 2007; co-editor with L. DiTommaso of The Reception and Interpretation of the Bible in Late Antiquity, E.J. Brill, 2008; and author of Gregory of Nyssa and the Concept of Divine Persons, Oxford University Press, 2005. He has published over three dozen peer-reviewed articles. He is Past President of the Canadian Society of Patristic Studies (2004–8) and an associate editor of the Journal of Ecumenical Studies and Theoforum (formerly Église et Théologie). He served as a member of the Board of Directors, Canadian Corporation for Studies in Religion, and was the Corporation’s combined programme director (1999–2002). Zenon V. Wasyliw (PhD history, Binghamton University (SUNY), 1992) is a Professor of History, Social Studies Graduate Education and affiliated with the Gerontology Institute at Ithaca College in Ithaca, NY. Wasyliw has published fifteen articles in the areas of Ukrainian and global histories and social studies pedagogy. He is currently finishing a manuscript on Soviet Culture in the Ukrainian Village: The Transformation of Everyday Life and Values, 1921–1928 and is commencing research on a transnational history of the Ukrainian Orthodox Church in Europe and North America. Edward D. Wynot is Professor of History at Florida State University in Tallahassee, where he specialises in Russian and East European studies. He is the author of Polish Politics in Transition: The Camp of National Unity

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and the Struggle for Power, 1935–1939 (1974); Warsaw between the World Wars: Profile of the Capital City in a Developing Land, 1918–1939 (1983); Caldron of Conflict: Eastern Europe, 1918–1945 (1999); and numerous articles and papers on East European history. He is currently completing a book-length study on the Church in the twentieth century. Dragan Zajkovski is an Assistant Professor at the Institute of National History in Skopje, where he works on religion and the Christian Church in Macedonia. In 2011 he defended his PhD thesis on ‘The Christian Church in Macedonia in the Early Middle Ages’ at the Institute of National History in Skopje. His latest publications include: Hristijanstvoto vo Makedonija (I–IV vek) [Christianity in Macedonia (I–IV Centuries)] and several articles in the field of church history including ‘Pismata na aleksandriskiot patrijarh Kiril do makedonskite episkopi Flavijan i Ruf kako svedoshtvo za crkovnite priliki vo Makedonija’ [Letters from Cyril, Patriarch of Alexandria, to Macedonian Bishops Flavian and Ruf as a Source for Church Affairs in Macedonia], Glasnik na Institutot za nacionalna istorija [Bulletin of the Institute of National History, Skopje], 2009, 1–2, 99–106.

Acknowledgements

This volume complements the analysis of Eastern Orthodox and Oriental churches published in Eastern Christianity and the Cold War, 1945–91, which I edited in 2010. I am extremely grateful to all of the contributors to this project for their enthusiasm in conducting research on a wide range of churches. Their linguistic and religious expertise, which in sum covers a large geographical area, has been essential in order to overview the myriad pattern of relations between Eastern Christian churches and the political realm. Regrettably, I was unable to include a detailed chapter on the Greek Orthodox Patriarchates due to circumstances shaped by the dramatically changing situation in the Middle East. I had valuable conversations on Eastern Christian churches with a number of people, to whom I am thankful, including Paschalis Kitromilides; Daniel Chirot; David Martin; Grace Davie; Geoffrey Swain; Chris Hann; Stephen Jones; Felix Corley; Philip Shashko; Thomas Bremer; Anthony O’Mahony; John Flannery; Deacon Christine Hall; the Right Reverend Geoffrey Rowell; Fr Andrew Louth; the Most Reverend Kallistos Ware, Metropolitan of Diokleia; Philip Walters; and Michael Sutton. My thanks go to Peter Sowden, my editor, and Helena Hurd, Senior Editorial Assistant at Routledge, for their constant encouragement, patience and support for this project. Needless to say, I remain solely responsible for any editorial omissions. As a student, together with most of the Romanian population in 1989, I listened to and repeated many times ‘the song of the Romanian Revolution’, a few lines of which are reproduced in the Introduction. In the following years, I studied not only historical, theological and political arguments but also witnessed the adaptation of the Church to democratic transformations. My response and that of my fellow scholars was to challenge ourselves to think creatively about Church and politics. I would like to dedicate this book to all of my fellow scholars who, inspired by songs of freedom after the events of 1989 across Europe, embarked upon the study of religion and politics searching for a deeper insight into the diversity of Eastern Christian churches. Last, but not least, I would like to thank Deborah, Clara and Maia for everything in the last few years.

Abbreviations

AAOCA ACERO ACLA AKEL ANM ARF AUCCRO BOC CAROC CCEO CEC CIS CNSAS DPS DS DSS EAOC ECHR EEC EOCMP EP ErOC ESS EthOC EU EVS FJP FOC Fr

Albanian Archdiocese of the Orthodox Church in America Assyrian Church of the East Relief Organisation Archbishopric’s Clergy and Laity Assembly (Macedonian Orthodox Church) Anorthotiko Komma Ergazomenou Laou [Progressive Party of the Working People] (Cyprus) Armenian National Movement Armenian Revolutionary Federation All-Ukrainian Council of Churches and Religious Organizations Bulgarian Orthodox Church Council for the Affairs of the Russian Orthodox Church Code of Canons of the Eastern Churches Conference of European Churches Commonwealth of Independent States National Council for the Study of the Securitate Archives (Romania) Democratic Party of Socialists (Montenegro) Demokratska stranka [Democratic Party] (Serbia) Demokratska stranka Srbije [Democratic Party of Serbia] Estonian Apostolic Orthodox Church European Court of Human Rights European Economic Community Estonian Orthodox Church of the Moscow Patriarchate Ecumenical Patriarchate Eritrean Orthodox Tewahedo Church European Social Survey Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church European Union European Values Study Freedom and Justice Party (Egypt) Finnish Orthodox Church Father

List of abbreviations GOC HGCC ICTY IOCC IRFA ISSP JUL KGB KLA KRG LOC MECC MOC MOC-OA MnOC MSSR NATO NGO OA OACA OCA OCC OCEC OCF OCG OCMC OSCE PACE PASOK PCRM PPCD PUM ROC ROCA ROCA-V ROCOR RomOC SANU SCOBA SDP SOC SRI

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Georgian Orthodox Church Hungarian Greek Catholic Church International Criminal Tribunal for the Former Yugoslavia International Orthodox Christian Charities International Religious Freedoms Act International Social Survey Programme Jugoslovenska levica [Yugoslav Left] Soviet Secret Police Kosovo Liberation Army Kurdistan Regional Government Latvian Orthodox Church Middle East Council of Churches Macedonian Orthodox Church Macedonian Orthodox Church – Ohrid Archbishopric Montenegrin Orthodox Church Moldavian Soviet Socialist Republic North Atlantic Treaty Organization Non-Governmental Organisation Ohrid Archbishopric Orthodox Autocephalous Church of Albania Orthodox Church in America Orthodox Church of Cyprus Orthodox Christian Education Commission Orthodox Campus Fellowship Orthodox Church of Greece Orthodox Christian Missions Centre Organization for Security and Cooperation in Europe Parliamentary Assembly of the Council of Europe Panhellenic Socialistic Movement Partidul Comuniştilor din Republica Moldova [Party of Communists of the Republic of Moldova] Partidul Popular Creştin-Democrat [People’s ChristianDemocratic Party] (Moldova) Partidul Umanist din Moldova [Humanist Party of Moldova] Russian Orthodox Church Russian Orthodox Church Abroad Russian Orthodox Church Abroad – Vitalii Russian Orthodox Church outside Russia Romanian Orthodox Church Serbian Academy of Science and Art Standing Conference of Canonical Orthodox Bishops in the Americas Social Democratic Party (Montenegro) Serbian Orthodox Church Romanian Information Service

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TIN TRNC UAOC UDF UGCC UNHCR UOC-KP UOC-MP UOCofUSA USSR VAK WCC WVS ZMP

Taxpayer Identification Number Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus Ukrainian Autocephalous Orthodox Church Union of Democratic Forces (Bulgaria) Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees Ukrainian Orthodox Church – Kyiv Patriarchate Ukrainian Orthodox Church of the Moscow Patriarchate Ukrainian Orthodox Church of the United States Union of Soviet Socialist Republics Vysshaya Attestatsionnaya Komissiya [Higher Attestation Commission] (Belarus) World Council of Churches World Values Survey Zhurnal Moskovskiy Patriarhii [Journal of the Moscow Patriarchate]

1

Eastern Christianity and politics in the twenty-first century An overview Lucian N. Leustean

On 25 December 1989, while reporting live the unfolding events across the country, the national television station, the temporarily renamed ‘Free Romanian Television’, repeatedly broadcast a song. The song made reference to the scenes of violence which were engulfing Romania at the time, expressing the hope that the voice of the demonstrators was heard from afar, not only in every city and village, but also by God. The first words of the song were particularly poignant: [Spoken text] It was 23 hundred hours! A news bulletin from Bucharest: Started at Timişoara with a peaceful demonstration, brutally rebuked by the authorities via the security forces, the Romanian Revolution spread fast throughout the whole country; the Army joined with the population on the streets of Timişoara, Sibiu, Bucharest, Braşov and other cities. The number of dead and wounded youth in the fight for freedom continues to grow. [Refrain] God, come here God, to see what is left of humans! God, come here God, to see what is left of humans!1 References to youth, demonstrators and divine help resonated among the people as they identified the mobilising factors of the revolution. The song, which became known as ‘the song of the Romanian Revolution’, denoted not only the country’s break from the previous communist regime but also gave an insight into the future. By asking God to come and see ‘what is left of humans’, it claimed that the divine was also part of the future. There would be a new world, a new country and a new people for which ‘the fight for freedom’ was closely linked with divine intervention. The words and the message uttered in the song remained part of the daily lives of the Romanian people. In University Square in Bucharest, which witnessed the death of a large number of protestors, a number of stone crosses were erected on the spot where people fought against the communist regime

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and prayed for the rebuilding of their country. In subsequent years, at times of national crisis, people returned to the same square and, legitimised by the death of their fellow citizens and by the songs for freedom, protested against political attempts to highjack the ideals of the revolution. Romania, a predominantly Orthodox country, witnessed an uneasy relationship between religion and politics during the communist period. The 1989 events in Romania were not only among the most brutal behind the Iron Curtain, but also highlighted the spirit of religious and political change across the Eastern bloc. In most cases, people turned towards religious symbols as sources which gave meaning to the new social and political realities. This volume examines the relationship between Eastern Christianity and the political realm from the fall of communism in Eastern Europe until today. It offers an overview of both Eastern Orthodox and Oriental churches not only in Europe but also in the Middle East, Africa, America, Asia and Australia by addressing the following questions: is there a specific model of church–state relations in Eastern Christianity? How did Orthodox churches survive the fall of communism? How have Eastern churches engaged with political actors at the national and international levels after 1989? Which are the main challenges faced by Eastern Christian churches at the dawn of the third millennium? The analysis is presented as taking place in ‘the twenty-first century’, by proposing the fall of the Iron Curtain as the starting point of the new century.

Eastern Christianity at the dawn of the twenty-first century The fall of the Iron Curtain undoubtedly changed the status quo of Eastern Christianity. With democratic transformations in Eastern Europe and the dissolution of the Soviet Union, Orthodox churches became part of new social and political realities. As suggested by ‘the song of the Romanian Revolution’, the issue of religious freedom was one of the main factors across Eastern Europe in defining a break from the atheist communist past. Consequently, in most countries, both Orthodox churches and other religious confessions found strong support not only among their populations but also within the political leadership. New churches and religious communities, many of which were suppressed during the Cold War period, were re-established. A veiled conflict among church leaders concerning the redesigning of religious structures and the ‘soul’ of the nation dominated the first years after the fall of communism. This conflict extended into the political sphere with churches exerting, at times, influence outside the spiritual domain. The fall of communism represented a novel opportunity for church leaders to present an alternative to atheist regimes. They were encouraged to do so by both the increasing popular support for religion and by their own concern to promote spiritual awakening within a wider social and political context. For example, in the Republic of Macedonia, the leading Orthodox Metropolitan Mihail was put forward as a candidate for the country’s presidency, however,

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he declined. In Romania, a large number of Orthodox clergy joined newly established political parties and became entangled in electoral disputes. Some Orthodox clergy secured seats in the Romanian Parliament and, in 2000, an Orthodox priest was appointed Minister of Agriculture. In Poland, during the 1993 elections the Church established an Orthodox Electoral Committee supporting candidates who were not tainted by communist affiliation. Similarly, in Belarus, after the 1990 declaration of independence, the country’s Metropolitan Philaret and three priests became members of the new Parliament. Furthermore, debates on Orthodox involvement in politics reached countries not previously under communism, such as in 1994, when a ‘European Inter-parliamentary Assembly of Orthodoxy’ was set up in Athens bringing together a number of members of parliaments across the region. Domestic religious changes also increased as a result of international pressures. The legacy of the Cold War came alive when hierarchs in exile returned to their countries, denouncing the existing religious leaders and claiming that they were the true preservers of the Orthodox faith. In particular, this situation had deeply affected Estonia and Ukraine, which saw battles for recognition between old and new Orthodox churches, dividing the faithful. Prolonged disputes and unclear jurisdictional lines were still visible two decades after the fall of communism, when Ukraine was in the rather unusually fragmented situation of having three Orthodox churches within the country, each claiming to be the true preserver of Ukrainian religious identity. The division of Orthodox churches also took a distinct political shape in the case of the Bulgarian Orthodox Church. In the early 1990s, Bulgaria witnessed the emergence of a new church, the Bulgarian Orthodox Church – Alternative Synod, whose leaders challenged the connection between the Orthodox hierarchs and the previous communist authorities. Both the Bulgarian elite and the faithful became embittered in the division between the two churches, one claiming to be a revived religious body, the other claiming continuity. The uncertain development of relations between the two Bulgarian churches represented one of the main challenges in the post-1989 Orthodox commonwealth. The break-up of a church could have easily become the norm across the region as other Orthodox churches also had had close ties with communist regimes. For example, a similar pattern was briefly visible in Romania, with Patriarch Teoctist resigning in December 1989; however, with the support of the new regime, he was asked to return to his position in April 1990. Similarly, after the dissolution of Yugoslavia, Serbia saw increasing demands of autocephaly from the Macedonian Orthodox Church and the establishment of a Montenegrin Orthodox Church. The changing nature of the main autocephalous Orthodox churches in Eastern Christianity also led to convoluted religious structures. For example, the Ecumenical Patriarchate was not only a strong supporter of religious resurgence in Albania, where it established its own archdiocese, but also in Estonia, where it supported the return of the Estonian Church in exile to the country. Archbishop Johannes of Karelia and All Finland became the locum

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tenens of the Estonian Church until a suitable candidate could be appointed. The involvement of the Ecumenical Patriarchate and the Finnish Orthodox Church was at odds with the interests of the local Estonian Church, which was placed under the jurisdiction of the Moscow Patriarchate after the Second World War, and consequently Estonia still has two parallel churches, the Estonian Apostolic Orthodox Church and the Estonian Orthodox Church of the Moscow Patriarchate. The Ecumenical Patriarchate’s reissuing of Tomos recognising the autocephaly of the Czech and Slovak Church and the autonomy of the Polish Orthodox Church complicated matters, as the Moscow Patriarchate perceived these actions as a direct threat to its longstanding relations with Orthodox churches in Eastern Europe. At the same time, the recognition of autocephaly/ autonomy of smaller Orthodox churches in the region was carried out with the active support of local political leaders. For example, in Moldova, while Orthodox communities became separated between the Metropolitanate of Chişinău under Moscow’s jurisdiction and the Metropolitanate of Bessarabia under the Romanian Orthodox Church, President Petru Lucinschi proposed that the Ecumenical Patriarchate recognise an autonomous Moldovan Church to unite these churches. In 2002, in Macedonia, President Boris Trajkovski stated that the autocephaly of the local Orthodox Church was indissolubly tied to international state recognition. In Albania, the revival of the Orthodox Church was achieved in 1991 after prolonged negotiations between the Albanian and Greek prime ministers, the latter representing the position of the Ecumenical Patriarchate. Archbishop Anastasios Janullatos, a professor at the National University of Athens, was appointed as the hierarch of the Albanian Church but had to overcome the concerns of the local community, who claimed that their church could be ruled only by a native Albanian. The issue of autocephaly/autonomy extended outside Eastern Europe. In 1990 the Ecumenical Patriarchate recognised the autonomy of the Ukrainian Orthodox Church of Canada, and, in 1995, of the Ukrainian Orthodox churches of the United States, South America, Western Europe and Australia. At the same time, the autocephaly of the Orthodox Church of America, which had existed since the 1970s in the United States and was recognised by a number of Orthodox churches, but not by the Ecumenical Patriarchate, continued to provoke tension between Constantinople and Moscow. Furthermore, in 2000, in an unprecedented action, the Free Serbian Orthodox Church, which was set up in Australia as the response of Serbian migrant communities to political developments in Yugoslavia, agreed to reunification with the Serbian Orthodox Church. Similarly, in 2007, the Russian Orthodox Church outside Russia, which had a significant number of faithful in both the USA and Western Europe under its leadership since the 1917 Russian Revolution, reunited with the Moscow Patriarchate. However, a number of Russian communities abroad did not recognise the 2007 act and remained independent.

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Changes in the international arena have been visible in the presence of a number of Orthodox missions, in places where churches traditionally had no presence or a very limited number of faithful. For example, the Moscow Patriarchate opened a small parish in North Korea, while the Ecumenical Patriarchate established a Metropolitanate in South Korea. In 2007, the Moscow Patriarchate stated that Orthodox believers in China fell under its jurisdiction; however, one year later, the Ecumenical Patriarchate issued a similar statement placing them under the Metropolitanate of Hong Kong. A distinctly separatist voice within the Orthodox commonwealth has been the discourse of religious leaders in Abkhazia, South Ossetia and Transnistria, three former Soviet regions which aim to achieve statehood and are facing uncertain religious affiliation. The 1992–3 Abkhazian War led to the emergence of a small Abkhazian Orthodox Church which claims an autonomous status, situated between the authority of the Georgian and Russian Orthodox churches. Similarly, in 1992, the Orthodox communities in South Ossetia refused the jurisdiction of the Russian Orthodox Church and, after a brief period in which they were part of the Russian Orthodox Church outside Russia, became integrated in the Holy Synod in Resistance, a Greek Old Calendarist church. At the same time, Orthodox communities in Transnistria have been torn between Moldovan churches and appealed to the Moscow Patriarchate, which in 1998 set up a canonical bishopric on its territory. The tumultuous structural changes faced by Orthodox Christianity in Europe were paralleled by those faced by their Oriental counterparts. The Arab revolutions across the Middle East not only raised questions about the role of Eastern Christian churches in the region but also led to tension between Christian and Muslim communities. The uncertainty of the social and political presence of Oriental churches was suggestively exemplified by the Orthodox and Oriental response to the 2013 kidnap of Paul Yazigi, the Greek Orthodox Metropolitan of Aleppo and Alexandretta, and Gregorios Yohanna Ibrahim, the Syriac Orthodox Archbishop of Aleppo. Among a wide range of religious leaders who condemned the act and asked for their release, Patriarch Kirill of Moscow made a personal plea to President Vladimir Putin to help these Syrian church leaders. Patriarch Kirill’s plea demonstrated that Orthodox and Oriental churches had grown closer to each other as well as to the political engagement of their countries at both the national and international levels.2

The map of Eastern Christianity As evident in the evolution of church–state relations after the fall of communism, the distinction between autocephaly, autonomy and semiautonomy in Eastern Christianity remains controversial. Eastern Christian churches regard themselves as ‘a family of churches’ which acknowledges the honorary primacy of the Ecumenical Patriarchate,3 divided into the following bodies:

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1.

Chalcedonian churches (fifteen Eastern Orthodox churches purporting to be in full communion and presented here in their order of honorary primacy): 1

Ancient autocephalous patriarchates: 1 2 3 4

2

The Ecumenical Patriarchate The Greek Orthodox Patriarchate of Alexandria The Greek Orthodox Patriarchate of Antioch The Greek Orthodox Patriarchate of Jerusalem

Autocephalous churches: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11

The Russian Orthodox Church (Patriarchate) The Serbian Orthodox Church (Patriarchate) The Romanian Orthodox Church (Patriarchate) The Bulgarian Orthodox Church (Patriarchate) The Georgian Orthodox Church (Catholicosate Patriarchate) The Orthodox Church of Cyprus The Orthodox Church of Greece The Orthodox Autocephalous Church of Albania The Polish Orthodox Church The Orthodox Church in the Czech Lands and Slovakia The Orthodox Church in America (whose autocephaly is contested by some churches).

The emergence after 1989 of new churches splitting from existing religious structures and the unification of diaspora communities with traditional autocephalous churches complicates this map.4 Who has the authority to grant autocephaly or autonomy? Should Orthodox churches be recognised as representing a ‘nation’, a ‘nation-state’ or merely based on specific total population? These questions give rise to conflictual stances, as evident, for example, in the widespread recognition of the autocephaly of the Church of the Sinai, a small monastery with around 800 faithful, while the self-declaration of autocephaly of the Macedonian Orthodox Church, which comprises more than 1 million believers, is not recognised by other churches. In addition to the above fifteen churches, Eastern Christianity is also composed of the following churches (the order given here does not follow a specific honorary primacy between these churches): 3

Autonomous (or semi-autonomous) churches: 1 2 3 4 5

The Church of the Sinai (Jerusalem Patriarchate) The Finnish Orthodox Church (Ecumenical Patriarchate) The Estonian Apostolic Orthodox Church (Ecumenical Patriarchate) The Orthodox Church of Crete (Ecumenical Patriarchate) The Monastic Community of Mount Athos (Ecumenical Patriarchate)

Eastern Christianity and politics 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 4

7

The Orthodox Ohrid Archbishopric (Serbian Patriarchate) The Orthodox Church in Japan (Moscow Patriarchate) The Ukrainian Orthodox Church (Moscow Patriarchate) The Russian Orthodox Church outside Russia (integrated with the Moscow Patriarchate in 2007) The Latvian Orthodox Church (Moscow Patriarchate) The Estonian Orthodox Church (Moscow Patriarchate) The Metropolitanate of Chişinău and All Moldova (Moscow Patriarchate) The Metropolitanate of Bessarabia (Romanian Patriarchate) The Orthodox Church in China (currently extinct).

Churches not in communion with the above churches. This classification is not exhaustive, as many churches have either joined recognised churches or are in the process of becoming recognised: 1 The Macedonian Orthodox Church – Ohrid Archbishopric (FYROM/Republic of Macedonia) 2 The Montenegrin Orthodox Church (Montenegro) 3 The Belarusian Autocephalous Orthodox Church (United States) 4 The Bulgarian Orthodox Church – Alternative Synod (Bulgaria) 5 The Holy Orthodox Church in North America (United States) 6 The Ukrainian Orthodox Church – Kyiv Patriarchate (Ukraine) 7 The Ukrainian Autocephalous Orthodox Church (Ukraine) 8 The Ukrainian Autocephalous Orthodox Church – Canonical (Ukraine) 9 The Russian Orthodox Church in America (United States) 10 The Abkhazian Orthodox Church (Abkhazia) 11 The Autocephalous Turkish Orthodox Patriarchate (Turkey and the United States) 12 The Orthodox Church in Italy (Italy) 13 The Orthodox Catholic Church of Portugal (Portugal) 14 The Orthodox Church of Russia (Russia and the United States) 15 The Orthodox Church in Georgia (Georgia) 16 The Orthodox Church in Abkhazia (Abkhazia) 17 The Free Serbian Orthodox Church (Australia) (integrated with the Serbian Orthodox Church in 2000) 18 The Croatian Orthodox Church (currently extinct) 19 The Orthodox Russian Church (The Renovationist Church or The Living Church) (currently extinct).

2.

Autocephalous non-Chalcedonian churches, ‘Oriental’ or ‘Monophysite’ churches. These churches separated from the Chalcedonian churches after the Council of Chalcedon in 451. As with the Chalcedonian churches,

8

Lucian N. Leustean this category also comprises diaspora communities and churches not in communion: 1

The Armenian Apostolic Church (Armenia) (a) The Armenian Patriarchate of Constantinople (Turkey) (b) The Armenian Patriarchate of Jerusalem, Holy See of St James (Israel) (c) The Armenian Catholicosate of the Great House of Cilicia (Lebanon)

2

The Coptic Orthodox Church (Egypt) (a) The British Orthodox Church (United Kingdom) (b) The French Coptic Orthodox Church (France)

3

The Syrian Orthodox Church (Syria) (a) The Jacobite Syrian Christian Church (The Malankara Jacobite Syrian Orthodox Church) (India)

4 5 6 7

The Malankara Orthodox Syrian Church (The Indian Orthodox Church) (India) The Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church (Ethiopia) The Eritrean Orthodox Tewahedo Church (Eritrea) Other churches not in communion with the above Oriental churches: (a) The Malabar Independent Syrian Church (India and diaspora) (b) The Mar Thoma Syrian Church of Malabar (India and diaspora).

3.

4.

5.

Religious missions of Chalcedonian or non-Chalcedonian churches which are in the process of becoming autonomous, such as the Russian mission in Korea; the Orthodox missions in various African countries of the Greek Orthodox Patriarchate of Alexandria; the missions in various countries across the globe of the Orthodox Christian Mission Centre in the USA; or the Chaldaean Catholic Mission in the United Kingdom. The Assyrian Church of the East (and its faction the Ancient Assyrian Church of the East) in various countries in the Middle East and its diaspora, which accepts only the first two Ecumenical Councils (Nicaea in 325 and Constantinople in 381). The Greek Catholic churches, ‘Uniate’ or ‘Eastern Catholic’ churches for both Chalcedonian and non-Chalcedonian churches which recognise the Pope’s primacy while retaining their liturgical and doctrinal communion with other Eastern churches, namely: 1 The Armenian Catholic Church 2 The Coptic Catholic Church 3 The Ethiopian Catholic Church

Eastern Christianity and politics 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 6.

2 3 4 5 6 7

The Old Calendar Orthodox Church of Greece (the Holy Synod in Resistance) The Church of the Genuine Orthodox Christians of Greece (Greece) The Church of the Genuine Orthodox Christians in America (United States) The Genuine Orthodox Church of America (United States) The Old Rite Romanian Orthodox Church The Old Calendar Bulgarian Orthodox Church The True Orthodox Church of Russia (The Catacomb Church).

The ‘Old Believers’ who refused the reforms of Russian Patriarch Nikhon in the seventeenth century, such as: 1 2 3 4 5 6

8.

The Eritrean Catholic Church The Syro-Malankara Catholic Church The Syrian Catholic Church The Maronite Catholic Church The Chaldean Catholic Church The Syro-Malabar Catholic Church The Melkite Greek Catholic Church The Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church The Ruthenian Byzantine Catholic Church The Romanian Greek Catholic Church Greek Catholics in Former Yugoslavia The Greek Byzantine Catholic Church The Bulgarian Eastern Catholic Church The Slovak Greek Catholic Church The Italo-Albanian Byzantine Catholic Church The Hungarian Greek Catholic Church The Albanian Byzantine Catholic Church Ordinariates for the faithful of various Eastern Catholic churches without their own hierarchy.

The ‘True Orthodox’ or ‘Old Calendarist’, represented by churches which separated from Chalcedonian churches after the implementation of the Julian calendar or as a result of Soviet persecution, such as: 1

7.

9

The Lipovan Orthodox Old-Rite Church The Pomorian Old-Orthodox Church The Old Ritualist Ancient Orthodox Christian Church in Russia The Old Ritualist Church Belokrinitsa Concord in Russia The Old Ritualist Church (Priestless) in Russia The Old Ritualist Runaways in Russia.

Small dissident communities under the generic term of ‘Orthodox sects’ in many predominantly Orthodox countries, such as Paulicians, Bogomils,

10

9.

Lucian N. Leustean Khlysty, Doukhobors, Molokans and Skoptsy. Some of these communities are now extinct or in diaspora. Protestant churches which emerged from Orthodox/Oriental churches and are ethnically connected with them, such as the Coptic Evangelical Church, the Armenian Evangelical Church5 and the St Thomas Evangelical Church.

Looking into the future This volume identifies nine thematic units of significance with which it addresses the most relevant issues regarding church–state relations for both Orthodox and Oriental churches. A comparative analysis of these thematic units offers an insight into the changing nature of Eastern Christianity today. 1

The religious and political legacy of the Cold War

How did Eastern Christian churches perceive the fall of the Iron Curtain and the process of democratisation in Eastern Europe and the former Soviet Union? Why, despite years of atheist indoctrination and religious persecution, had the majority of churches behind the Iron Curtain remained strong? With the support of population figures of post-1989 censes, a number of Orthodox churches proclaimed themselves ‘defenders of the nation’. They enjoyed state financial support and acquired influence in the decision-making of their countries. For example, in Russia (in 2010, official sources suggest that 75 per cent of the population was Orthodox, while other independent studies set this figure lower at 42 per cent), church hierarchs have often been close to top political leaders. The 1997 reconstruction of the Church of Christ the Saviour in Moscow, which was demolished on Stalin’s orders in 1931, became the centrepiece of close relations between the religious and the political realms. In Romania (the 2002 census associated 86.7 per cent of the population with the Orthodox Church), post-1989 polls showed the Church as ‘the most trusted institution’ above the Army or Parliament. As a general trend, after the fall of the Iron Curtain, churches which initially attracted a large number of the faithful emerged stronger. At the same time, the collaboration of clergy with the state security services has remained controversial. After 1989 a number of clergy and top hierarchs publicly admitted working for the security services, though most hierarchs opposed public enquiries into the matter. In a number of cases, contact with the secret services during the Cold War could be seen as favouring the Church. For example, as John and Carol Garrard have argued, in the 1980s, in the Soviet Union, church leaders, with tacit party approval, suddenly ‘discovered’ places where national heroes were buried.6 However, in a number of cases collaboration with the security services came at the expense of church unity. In Bulgaria, for example, it was confirmed in 2012 that during the Cold War period the majority of Orthodox hierarchs making up the Holy Synod were also working for the state security services. As a general trend, Orthodox

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churches have been reluctant to deal with past collaboration with communist authorities and have opposed the process of lustration. When hierarchs and ordinary clergy were exposed as working for the state security apparatus, they made references to ‘patriotism’ and ‘national interest’ in support of their activities. Although collaboration with state security apparatus remains controversial, analysis on this topic has to take into account the ways in which communist states worked. In some cases, membership of state security increased the possibility of becoming a hierarch, while in other cases clergy were coerced into compiling information. The legacy of the Cold War has perhaps become more evident at the beginning of the twenty-first century with the re-emergence of Greek Catholic churches in Eastern Europe. After the Second World War, most Greek Catholic churches were integrated into the structures of the Orthodox churches, their hierarchs were imprisoned and they operated underground throughout the period. After 1989, their public recognition brought tension between the Orthodox and the Greek Catholic faithful, particularly around the issue of property restitution. From marginalised communities during the Cold War period, Greek Catholicism became a prime religious identity marker closely attached to the concept of the ‘nation’, such as the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church (the largest in the world, counting around 5.5 million faithful) and the Romanian Greek Catholic Church. 2

Churches and political power after the fall of communism

How do Eastern Christian churches relate to the political field? Church–state relations in Eastern Christianity have been based on the concept of symphonia, which goes back to the Byzantine Empire and argues for close cooperation between the religious and political spheres. How is this concept applied within the Orthodox commonwealth? While references to the concept of symphonia have continued in the discourse of churches since 1989, particularly in that of the Russian Orthodox Church and the Ecumenical Patriarchate, most churches claim that the concept does not fully represent their approach to contemporary social and political realities.7 Symphonia remains a controversial concept mainly because it does not impose a clear distinction between religious and political rulers, while the boundaries between the spiritual and profane remain unclear. Tension between Moscow and Constantinople on jurisdictional matters in Eastern Europe and the diaspora, exaggerated claims of the actual number of Russian Orthodox believers worldwide and President Putin’s 2012 suggestion of involving the Russian Orthodox Church in the proposed Eurasian Union of countries of the former Soviet Union denote the increasing political influence of the Moscow Patriarchate at home and abroad. Other Orthodox churches have their own view of the concept of symphonia. Close relations between the Serbian Orthodox Church and the state after the fall of Slobodan Milošević’s regime in 2000 and the loss of church influence in Kosovo have been criticised

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by intellectuals. In Romania, where the Orthodox Church retains a prime position of religious influence and is building a mega-Cathedral of National Salvation in Bucharest, symphonia seems to have shifted towards a German model of cooperation between church and state. 3

Religious education and theological publications

In an increasingly secularised world, what role does religious education play for both churches and the state? How do churches view the latest technological advances in mass media, the internet and television? A significant number of churches have launched their own television and radio channels and have a strong internet presence which may mobilise the faithful on social and political issues. As a general trend, after the fall of communism, Orthodox churches supported the introduction of Orthodox teachings as part of the national curriculum at both primary and secondary levels of education. The demand, although successful in a number of countries, such as Bulgaria (where it is elective) and Romania (where it is mandatory), was criticised by intellectuals and the impact of religious education remains uneven in Eastern Europe; in Bulgaria less than 2 per cent of pupils have opted for religious classes. In Eastern Europe, an extensive network of institutes emerged either as a result of expanding previous theological centres or in an attempt to consolidate the Orthodox faith. In particular, the latter has been visible in countries which suffered severe religious persecution. In order to rebuild local congregations, in 1992, the Orthodox Church in Albania opened a theological seminary and four years later a ‘Resurrection of Christ’ theological academy at St Vlash Monastery in Durrës; similarly, after 1990 the clergy belonging to the Estonian Apostolic Orthodox Church have been trained at St Platon Orthodox seminary of Tallinn. 4

Monastic life

The post-1989 period has been characterised by an increase in the role of monastic communities in shaping national consciousness. With state support, a significant number of monastic centres have been established across the Orthodox commonwealth both as an expression of religious revival and to foster religious identity. At the same time, the destruction and desecration of a number of monasteries in the Kosovo region was widely condemned and continues to affect the religious and political balance in the Balkans. Pilgrimage to monastic centres for religious and national festivals has expanded. A number of monasteries have attracted considerable numbers, with some 400 nuns at both Văratec and Agapia monasteries in Romania, two of the largest convents in Eastern Europe. Religious revival and continuity with major monastic Orthodox centres has been evident in the emphasis on the word ‘new’ in the title of a number of monasteries, such

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as the New Valaam Monastery in Finland, the New Athos Monastery in Abkhazia, and the New Neamţ Monastery in Transnistria. Monastic centres have benefited from the financial support of both state authorities and private entrepreneurs. Some monasteries have been critical of ecumenical dialogue and of contact with non-Orthodox faithful, attracting criticism from intellectuals who accused them of promoting fundamentalism and obscurantism. 5

Inter-ecclesiastical contact at the national and international levels

The end of the Cold War has led to an overall increase in relations between Eastern and Western churches.8 Dialogue between the Roman Catholic Church, Orthodox and Oriental churches in particular saw an ascendant trajectory. In 2007, representatives of the Orthodox churches and the Catholic Church signed the Declaration of Ravenna which tackled the sensitive topic of ecclesiastical communion between churches. The Declaration stated that ‘Rome, as the Church that “presides in love” according to the phrase of St Ignatius of Antioch (To the Romans, Prologue), occupied the first place in the taxis, and that the bishop of Rome was therefore the protos among the patriarchs’.9 The two major Catholic–Orthodox bodies which were established after the Second Vatican Council, the ‘Joint International Commission for Theological Dialogue between the Catholic Church and the Orthodox Church’ and the ‘Joint Working Group between the World Council of Churches and the Catholic Church’, have continued to meet. While many Orthodox churches have been open to dialogue, a number of churches have become critical of ecumenical organisations. After 1989, the authority of ecumenical organisations was weakened at the expense of the growing voices of national churches, raising questions about the meaning of ‘ecumenism’. In 1997, the Georgian Orthodox Church left both the World Council of Churches (WCC) and the Conference of European Churches; one year later, the Bulgarian Orthodox Church followed suit and withdrew from membership of both organisations. In 1998, the World Council of Churches established a Commission to assess the ‘Orthodox problem’ issuing a Final Report at the 2006 WCC Assembly in Porto Alegre, Brazil.10 The Report addressed some Orthodox demands for restructuring the WCC. However, the ecumenical dialogue and the WCC did not stop the Russian Orthodox Church from withdrawing its participation in the Conference of European Churches in 2008 because of jurisdictional conflict with the Ecumenical Patriarchate over churches in Estonia. The ‘Orthodox problem’ in the ecumenical movement has been visible not only in relation to the Geneva-based organisations but also in the case of the Coptic Orthodox Church, which opposed the Assyrian Church of the East’s membership of the Middle East Council of Churches. The post-1989 position of both Orthodox and Oriental churches raises questions on the future of the ecumenical movement in the twenty-first century.

14 6

Lucian N. Leustean Relations with religious minorities

How do Orthodox churches perceive religious minorities? How do churches comply with the international norms regarding religious minorities and human rights in a multicultural society? In a number of countries, Orthodox churches have protested against the presence of new churches and religious minorities which they have seen as proselytising among their faithful.11 Orthodox churches have been critical of organisations promoting same-sex relations and a number of violent incidents took place during marches promotion sexual equality. Greece stands out among the predominantly Orthodox countries as the only state in the European Union legislating against religious proselytism and being condemned by the European Court of Human Rights (ECHR) on this matter. At the same time, Orthodox churches appealed to the ECHR for national and international recognition, such as in 2001, when, despite opposition from the Moldovan government, the Metropolitanate of Bessarabia won its case against the state and was registered as an official church. 7

Relations with diaspora, religious boundaries and migration

The end of the Cold War and the enlargement of the European Union have encouraged a large number of Orthodox believers to migrate to Western Europe. New religious communities have been established in the West and, at times, conflict has arisen between local churches on jurisdictional matters.12 What does it mean to be born and raised in diaspora? How do diasporic communities relate to political power within their own countries and to the political authorities in the country of their church? Is ‘diaspora’ the most appropriate word to reflect the changing boundaries between churches? That ‘diaspora’ is a key issue within Eastern Christianity has been demonstrated by its top place on the agenda of a forthcoming Pan-Orthodox Council which aims to provide further guidance. Discussions on establishing a PanOrthodox Council have been underway since the 1960s with the Ecumenical Patriarchate establishing a ‘Secretariat Committee for the Preparation of the Holy and Great Synod of Orthodox Church’. Although the topics for discussion have not been agreed by all Orthodox churches, a list published by the Diocese of Great Britain and Ireland of the Russian Orthodox Church outside Russia gives an insight into these debates: ‘1. The Orthodox Diaspora; 2. The way in which autocephaly is granted; 3. The way in which autonomy is granted; 4. The diptychs (the order of honour of the Local Churches); 5. The Church calendar; 6. Canonical impediments to marriage; 7. Fasting; 8. Relationships with the heterodox denominations; 9. The ecumenical movement; 10. The contribution of Orthodox to affirming peace, brotherhood and freedom.’13 In order to strengthen relations between Orthodox churches in diaspora, representatives of fourteen Orthodox churches in communion meeting in 2009 in Chambésy, near Geneva, during the Fourth Pan-Orthodox Preconciliar Conference, proposed the establishment of regional Assemblies of Bishops in diaspora. The result was soon visible in the United States, when one year later

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the Assembly of Canonical Orthodox Bishops in North and Central America was founded.14 Similarly, in 2010 an Episcopal Assembly of the British Isles brought together thirteen Orthodox bishops in the United Kingdom and Ireland.15 However, as evident in the case of the latter Assembly, the enthusiasm of the 2010 meeting was not repeated, as many bishops failed to attend subsequent discussions – for example, only six bishops attended the June 2011 meeting. 8

Orthodox churches and the European Union

How do Orthodox churches engage with the process of European integration and the political system of the European Union?16 How have Orthodox churches perceived the process of European integration? After the 1992 Maastricht Treaty, the European Commission encouraged dialogue with a number of ‘churches, religions and communities of conviction’. As a result, many churches have opened offices in Brussels and Strasburg engaging in direct contact with European institutions. In 1989, as part of the dialogue with church leaders, President Jacques Delors of the European Commission met two metropolitans of the Ecumenical Patriarchate. In 1994, the Ecumenical Patriarchate opened the ‘Liaison Office of the Orthodox Church to the European Union’, a title which suggests that it represents the whole Orthodox commonwealth in relation to European institutions. However, in the following years other churches opened their own representations, namely the Orthodox Church of Greece in 1998, the Russian Orthodox Church in 2002, and the Romanian Orthodox Church and the Orthodox Church of Cyprus in 2007. In addition, the Serbian Orthodox Church has a representative working for the Church and Society Commission of the Conference of European Churches. In 2010, Orthodox leaders from these offices decided to set up a ‘Committee of Representatives of Orthodox Churches to the European Union’ in an effort to coordinate a trans-Orthodox response to the political evolution of the European Union. It remains unclear if this Committee will have a long-term impact on relations with European institutions and among national churches or merely represents a church-based organisation raising awareness of Orthodox values among civil servants in Brussels and Strasburg. That Orthodox churches regard the Brussels offices as key bodies in dialogue with the European Union has been exemplified by the appointment of Bishop Hilarion Alfayev, formerly head of the Representation of the Russian Orthodox Church in Strasburg from 2002 to 2007, as chairman of the Department of External Church Relations of the Moscow Patriarchate. 9

The impact of secularism, nationalism and globalisation

What impact does the process of globalisation have on Eastern Christian churches? Is there a trans-national Orthodox identity? How does secularism relate to Eastern Christianity? What role does the political imaginary

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and nationalism play in the building of national identity in the Orthodox commonwealth?17 The political reconstruction of Eastern Europe and Russia saw the evolving of a religious and political mythologisation which enforced national cohesion. At the same time, concepts such as secularism and globalisation have been condemned as foreign to Orthodox values. An increase in the public role of Orthodox and Oriental churches, a deepening of relations between Christian churches in East and West, a questioning of the concept of the ‘nation’ and the significance of nationalism in a globalised world have all had an impact on the engagement of church leaders with the political realm. The new Orthodox churches that have been established after the fall of communism have taken into account the national character of their communities. Their names reflect this emphasis on ethnicity with, for example, ‘Macedonian’ in the Macedonian Orthodox Church, and ‘Ukrainian’ in all three major churches (the Ukrainian Autocephalous Orthodox Church; the Ukrainian Orthodox Church – Kyiv Patriarchate; and the Ukrainian Orthodox Church – Moscow Patriarchate). At the beginning of the twenty-first century, the process of globalisation raises a question on the diversity of Eastern Christianity. Will Eastern Christian churches continue to divide or will they unite? Will other churches be accepted in the communion of the fifteen recognised churches? These are open questions. However, the history of Eastern Christianity, and, in particular, religious and political developments after the fall of communism, suggest that Eastern Christianity will continue to be a ‘family of churches’ which is prone to division and new configurations.

The book’s structure The volume provides an insight into the ways in which churches have adapted to the changing nature of religion and politics in the twenty-first century, in other words after 1989. It does not aim to predict how churches will evolve by the end of the year 2099; instead it investigates the ways in which churches relate to societal and political transformations after the Cold War period. Each chapter examines the most relevant issues for church–state relations within the Eastern Christian world from the fall of communism in Eastern Europe and the former Soviet Union (1989/1991) until around 2012/2013, when the work was finalised. The volume is divided into five sections: Chalcedonian churches; non-Chalcedonian churches; the Holy Apostolic Catholic Assyrian Church of the East; the Greek Catholic churches in Eastern Europe; and challenges in the twenty-first century. The Chalcedonian section details the following Orthodox churches which are in communion, namely the Ecumenical Patriarchate, the Russian Orthodox Church, the Serbian Orthodox Church, the Romanian Orthodox Church, the Bulgarian Orthodox Church, the Georgian Orthodox Church, the Orthodox Church of Cyprus, the Orthodox Church of Greece, the Polish Orthodox Church, the Orthodox Autocephalous Church of Albania, the

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Orthodox Church in the Czech Lands and Slovakia. A chapter on ‘Orthodox churches in America’ explores the historical evolution of Orthodoxy and contemporary church jurisdictions in the United States. The Chalcedonian section includes a number of churches which are under the jurisdiction of either the Ecumenical Patriarchate or the Russian Orthodox Church or have communities aiming to come under one of these churches, namely the Finnish Orthodox Church, the Orthodox churches in Estonia, Orthodox churches in Ukraine, the Belarusian Orthodox Church, the Orthodox Church in Lithuania, the Latvian Orthodox Church. Three chapters on ‘Orthodox churches in Abkhazia, South Ossetia and Transnistria’, ‘Orthodox churches in Moldova’ and ‘the Macedonian Orthodox Church’ highlight contemporary political changes to church jurisdictions in Eastern Europe and the former Soviet states, with churches being (re)established in connection with the concept of the ‘nation’. The Chalcedonian section ends with two chapters covering Orthodox churches in Japan, China and Korea and Australia as examples of diasporic communities. The non-Chalcedonian section includes chapters on all Oriental churches, namely the Armenian Apostolic Church, the Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church, the Eritrean Orthodox Tewahedo Church, the Coptic Orthodox Church, the Syrian Orthodox Church and Syrian Christian churches in India. The last two chapters in this section include a number of Greek Catholic churches in the Middle East and India which are closely linked with Oriental Christianity. The chapter on Syrian Christian churches in India presents eight churches as part of both the East and West Syrian liturgical traditions. The Holy Apostolic Catholic Assyrian Church of the East section analyses the unique structures of this church in the Middle East and diaspora and includes two other churches derived from its body, namely the Ancient Assyrian Church of the East and the Chaldean Catholic Church. The Greek Catholic churches in Eastern Europe section discusses four main churches in the region, namely the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church, the Romanian Greek Catholic Church, the Bulgarian Eastern Catholic Church and the Hungarian Greek Catholic Church. The Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church has the highest number of Greek Catholic faithful in the world and, like its Romanian counterpart, is closely connected with the concept of the nation. Chapters on these churches provide a historical overview from the moment of their establishment until today, focusing extensively on the Cold War period as a time of adaptation and survival. The volume includes a section on ‘Challenges in the twenty-first century’ which focuses on four main areas, namely migration, Catholic–Orthodox relations, secularism and the process of globalisation. These four areas relate to some of the most disputed issues currently facing Eastern Christianity and which are likely to have a long-term impact. After 1989 a significant number of Orthodox faithful migrated to Western Europe while maintaining contact with their churches at home. Should Orthodox communities in Western Europe establish their own ‘ethnic’ or ‘national’ churches? Should

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these communities become part of a supranational diaspora or retain their links with churches in their countries of origin? At the same time, the increasing number of Catholic–Orthodox meetings in post-war Europe raises questions on the future of Christianity. Should the Greek Catholic churches be perceived as national churches and how do they influence the evolution of Catholic–Orthodox relations? The democratic evolution of predominantly Orthodox countries in southeastern Europe after the fall of communism was paralleled by an ambivalent position of churches towards the political realm. Have Orthodox churches been moving towards a ‘symphonic secularism’ in church–state relations? What is the most prevalent type of church–state relations in Eastern Christianity? The position of churches in society has been influenced by the process of globalisation. How do Orthodox churches perceive this process? How do Orthodox churches adapt to modernisation? And last but not least, what does it mean to be an Orthodox faithful in the twentyfirst century? Each chapter concludes with a statistical appendix which provides an overview of religious and political developments. The appendix includes the population of each state; the number of clergy, church buildings and monasteries; a list of the most significant theological publications; the names of religious leaders after 1989 and a short biographical section on the leading church hierarchs in 2012/2013. While a wide range of data has become available to researchers in recent years, some figures are disputed. The data do not represent the official view of churches on these issues and should be treated with caution in cases of competing church jurisdiction. When figures are unknown, the book provides those offered in the World Christian Encyclopedia. A Comparative Survey of Churches and Religions in the Modern World (edited by David B. Barrett, George T. Kurian and Todd M. Johnson, published by Oxford University Press in 2001). Finding common agreement between scholars working in the fields of political science, history and theology on the changing relationship between Eastern Christianity and politics is a challenging task. The tension between these academic fields has been suggestively defined by Fr Andrew Louth, who proposes a liturgical-centred alternative: [Today] the most profound problem concerns the discerning of an Orthodox identity that embraces national identities without dissolving the identity found within the Orthodox Church. One thing that seems clear, however, is that political solutions, mediated by structures and hierarchies, are unlikely to advance any kind of solution. Rather I would suggest that it is in the Divine Liturgy that Orthodox find their most profound identity, and it is here that we need to seek to discover what it is that creates a sense of mutual belonging, which certainly exists.18 In the twenty-first century, Eastern Christianity will most likely be influenced by both the specificities of Orthodox spirituality and the mechanisms of

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political action. It is the task of this volume to provide an insight into this future.

Notes 1 My translation. The song ‘Nights’, written by Valeriu Sterian, a well-known Romanian song-writer, was first broadcast on Romanian television on Christmas Day 1989. On the same day, Nicolae Ceauşescu, who had ruled Romania since 1965, and his wife were put on trial, sentenced and executed by a firing squad. 2 Interfax, ‘Patriarch Kirill asks Putin to assist release of kidnapped Syrian hierarchs’, at: http://www.pravmir.com/patriarch-kirill-asks-putin-to-assist-release-ofkidnapped-syrian-hierarchs/ (accessed 1 May 2013). 3 F. L. Cross (ed.), The Oxford Dictionary of the Christian Church, Oxford and New York: Oxford University Press, 2005, p. 1012. For a detailed analysis of autocephaly see Pedro Ramet, ‘Autocephality and National Identity in Church–State Relations in Eastern Christianity: An Introduction’, in Pedro Ramet (ed.), Eastern Christianity and Politics in the Twentieth Century, Durham, NC and London: Duke University Press, 1988, pp. 1–6. See also references to Orthodox ‘families’ in Augustine Casiday, ‘Editor’s Introduction’ and Alexander Treiger, ‘Divisions of Middle Eastern Christianity’, both in Augustine Casiday (ed.), The Orthodox Christian World, Abingdon and New York: Routledge, 2012, pp. xv–xxii. 4 John A. McGuckin, The Orthodox Church. An Introduction to its History, Doctrine, and Spiritual Culture, Malden, MA and Oxford: Blackwell, 2008, pp. 30–1; John Binns, An Introduction to the Christian Orthodox Churches, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2002, p. 10. 5 K. Parry, D. J. Melling, D. Brady, S. H. Griffith and J. F. Healey (eds), The Blackwell Dictionary of Eastern Christianity, Oxford: Blackwell, 1999, p. 169. 6 John Garrard and Carol Garrard, Russian Orthodoxy Resurgent. Faith and Power in the New Russia, Princeton, NJ and Oxford: Princeton University Press, 2008, p. 45. 7 Zoe Knox, ‘The Symphonic Ideal: The Moscow Patriarchate’s Post-Soviet Leadership’, Europe-Asia Studies, 2003, 55, 575–96; Lucian N. Leustean, ‘The Concept of Symphonia in Contemporary European Orthodoxy’, International Journal for the Study of the Christian Church, 2011, 11 (2), 1–15; Daniela Kalkandjieva, ‘A Comparative Analysis on Church–State Relations in Eastern Orthodoxy: Concepts, Models, and Principles’, Journal of Church and State, 2011, 53 (4), 587–614. 8 For relations with the Church of England and the Roman Catholic Church, see Peter M. Doll (ed.), Anglicanism and Orthodoxy: 300 Years after the ‘Greek College’ in Oxford, Oxford: Peter Lang, 2006; and Adam A. J. DeVille, Orthodoxy and the Roman Papacy. Ut Unum Sint and the Prospects of East–West Unity, Notre Dame, IN: University of Notre Dame Press, 2011. 9 See: http//www.vatican.va/roman_curia/pontifical_councils/chrstuni/ch_orthodox_docs/rc_pc_chrstuni_doc_20071013_documento-ravenna_en.html (accessed 1 May 2013). 10 ‘Final report of the Special Commission on Orthodox Participation in the WCC’, at: http://www.oikoumene.org/en/resources/documents/assembly/2006-portoalegre/3-preparatory-and-background-documents/final-report-of-the-specialcommission-on-orthodox-participation-in-the-wcc (accessed 6 July 2013). 11 For recent debates, see Paul Valliere, ‘Russian Orthodoxy and Human Rights’, in Irene Bloom, J. Paul Martin and Wayne Proudfoot (eds), Religious Diversity and Human Rights, New York: Columbia University Press, 1996, pp. 278–312; Vigen Guroian, ‘Human Rights and Modern Western Faith: An Orthodox

20

12 13 14 15 16

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Lucian N. Leustean Christian Assessment’, Journal of Religious Ethics, 1998, 26 (2), 241–7; S. E. Rogobete, ‘Morality and Tradition in Post-Communist Orthodox Lands: On the Universality of Human Rights, with Special Reference to Romania’, Religion, State and Society, 2004, 32, 275–98; and John A. McGuckin, ‘The Issue of Human Rights in Byzantium and the Orthodox Christian Tradition’, in John Witte, Jr and Frank S. Alexander (eds), Christianity and Human Rights, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010, pp. 173–90. Daniel P. Payne, ‘Nationalism and the Local Church: The Source of Ecclesiastical Conflict in the Orthodox Commonwealth’, Nationalities Papers: The Journal of Nationalism and Ethnicity, 2007, 35 (5), 831–52. See: http://orthodoxengland.org.uk/panorth.htm (accessed 6 June 2013). See: http://assemblyofbishops.org/ (accessed 6 June 2013). See: http://www.oodegr.com/english/brit_celt_orthodoxy/episcopal_assembly_ british_isles.htm (accessed 6 June 2013). See also Sabrina Ramet, ‘The Way We Were – and Should Be Again? European Orthodox Churches and the “Idyllic Past”’, in T. A. Byrnes and P. J. Katzenstein (eds), Religion in an Expanding Europe, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2006, pp. 148–75. See also Vasilios N. Makrides and Victor Roudometof, ‘Introduction: Tradition, Transition and Change in Greek Orthodoxy at the Dawn of the Twenty-First Century’, in Victor Roudometof and Vasilios N. Makrides (eds), Orthodox Christianity in 21st Century Greece: The Role of Religion in Culture, Ethnicity and Politics, Farnham: Ashgate, 2010, pp. 1–18. Andrew Louth, ‘Orthodoxy and the Problem of Identity’, International Journal for the Study of the Christian Church, 2012, 12 (2), p. 104.

Part I

Chalcedonian churches

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2

The Ecumenical Patriarchate Lucian N. Leustean

In August 1987, the Ecumenical Patriarch Dimitrios visited his Russian counterpart in Moscow. This was an exceptional event, not only because of the delicate nature of church–state relations behind the Iron Curtain, but also because the last visit of an Ecumenical Patriarch to Moscow took place in January 1589, when the Constantinopolitan See conferred patriarchal status on the Russian Church. At the end of Dimitrios’s visit, Leningrad State Television asked him a number of questions, particularly regarding the situation of believers in the Soviet Union and the government’s recent announcement of political transparency (glasnost). Thanks to the political connotations of these topics, Patriarch Dimitrios’s diplomatic response was that [t]he Ecumenical Patriarch does not take part in politics and that is why he does not make political statements. However, as head of the Church, which is living in modern conditions, in today’s world which is torn by contradictions, he is invariably on the side of any policy that strives for the benefit of nations and the life of people.1 His carefully chosen words reflected the position of the Ecumenical Patriarchate towards the realm of politics throughout the twentieth century. The Patriarchate was not a religious body concerned with issuing political statements; however, there were numerous occasions when the presence of the Ecumenical Patriarch at a specific event, either behind or outside the Iron Curtain, was interpreted by the faithful as support for a specific political stance. In this regard, Dimitrios’s presence in Moscow demonstrated his support for the situation of Orthodox believers in the Soviet Union. A few years later, the fall of the Iron Curtain in Eastern Europe and the dissolution of the Soviet Union led to major transformations in both Moscow and Constantinople. In June 1990, the Russian Holy Synod elected a new patriarch, while in November of the same year, after the death of Dimitrios, the Constantinopolitan Church elected its own leader. However, although the 1987 meeting between the hierarchs seemed to bring the churches closer together, the political changes that resulted from the fall of the Iron Curtain

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had a negative impact on relations between Constantinople and Moscow. In 1996, tension between the two meant that the Moscow Patriarch refused to mention the name of the Ecumenical Patriarch during the liturgy, an act which could be interpreted as rupturing relations between their churches. At the beginning of the twenty-first century, Dimitrios’s words uttered in 1987 continue to represent the stance of the Ecumenical Patriarchate’s involvement in national and international affairs. This chapter examines relations between the Ecumenical Patriarchate at the local and international levels, discussing its relations with the Turkish authorities, the Church’s presence in inter-religious dialogue and the role of the Patriarchate in the changing nature of the Orthodox commonwealth.

The legacy of the twentieth century Since the fourth century AD the headquarters of the Ecumenical Patriarchate have been in Constantinople (Istanbul). The 1923 Treaty of Lausanne, which stipulated the exchange of population in Asia Minor and legalised the position of the Patriarchate in Turkey, left the Church with around 110,000 Orthodox faithful.2 The interwar period was characterised by the Patriarchate playing an increasing role in the Orthodox commonwealth, as evident in its ecumenical openness and its dialogue with other churches. After the Second World War, the election of Ecumenical Patriarch Athenagoras (1948–72), who enjoyed the support of President Harry S. Truman, raised concerns among the Soviet-satellite countries in Eastern Europe that the Patriarchate had become a vehicle of American interests in the region. With the majority of predominantly Orthodox countries falling behind the Iron Curtain, the Ecumenical Patriarchate found itself mired in Cold War tension between the two blocs. While the Ecumenical Patriarchate tried to reconcile the Orthodox commonwealth divided by the Cold War, a dramatic event affected the faithful in Turkey. Cyprus’s search for independence found the island torn between the political interests of Greece and Turkey. Cyprus’s claim of union with Greece was rejected by Turkey, and on 6 and 7 September 1955 violent demonstrations took place in Istanbul with demonstrators supporting the Turkish involvement in the Cypriot question. The demonstrations resulted in the destruction and burning of a significant number of churches and commercial properties to the extent that Patriarch Athenagoras was quoted as lamenting that ‘Constantinople had not really fallen in 1453 but in 1955’.3 In the following years, the Orthodox faithful in Turkey decreased considerably, leaving the Church to minister to the remaining faithful, which now numbered only around 2,000 to 4,000 people. In addition to the decreasing number of believers, pressure from the Turkish authorities increased in 1963 with the closure of the Patriarchate’s printing press and consequently of its monthly journal Orthodoxia [Orthodoxy], which had been published since 1926. Furthermore, the decision of the Turkish

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government in 1971 to close the Theological School of Halki, which had trained the Patriarchate’s clergy since 1844, had a long-term impact affecting the very structure of the Patriarchate by impeding the training of its own clergy. Domestic problems were somehow alleviated by the increasing role of the Ecumenical Patriarchate in the Orthodox commonwealth in the 1960s. On 7 December 1965 Patriarch Athenagoras and Pope Paul VI symbolically lifted the anathemas between their churches, an act which had lasted since 1054. However, the event had little international consequence. While it aimed to bring the Roman Catholic Church and the Orthodox commonwealth closer together, the event was affected by the Cold War. In 1968 after the Soviet invasion of Czechoslovakia relations between Constantinople and Moscow halted. Relations with Moscow were tense throughout the 1970s and, furthermore, were affected by the declaration of autocephaly of the Orthodox Church in America, which was recognised only by the Russian Orthodox Church. Both Moscow and Constantinople claimed to have authority to minister to those faithful living in the United States and Western Europe and the lines between diasporic communities were blurred. The visit of Patriarch Dimitrios to the Soviet Union in 1987 seemed to alleviate the tension between their churches, though jurisdictional issues continued after the fall of the Iron Curtain. The death of Patriarch Dimitrios in October 1991 took place only a few months after the enthronement of Patriarch Aleksii II in Moscow. That relations between Moscow and Constantinople remained strained was evident by the fact that Aleksii II was the most notable absence from the cortege of hierarchs attending the funeral of Ecumenical Patriarch Dimitrios.4

Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew The legacy of the twentieth century continued during the tenure of Dimitrios’s successor. On 22 October 1991, the Constantinopolitan Holy Synod elected Bartholomew as its spiritual leader and, on 2 November 1991, Bartholomew was enthroned as the 270th ‘Archbishop of Constantinople, New Rome, and Ecumenical Patriarch’. The new patriarch was born under the lay name of Dimitrios Arhondonis on 29 February 1940 on the island of Imvros, Turkey. In 1961 he completed his studies at the Theological School of Halki and, in the same year, he took the monastic vows under the name of Bartholomew and was ordained deacon. For five years, starting in 1963, he held a number of scholarships at the University of Munich, the Ecumenical Institute in Bossey and the Institute of Oriental Studies of the Gregorian University in Rome. As a student in Rome he attended a number of sessions of the Second Vatican Council and defended a doctorate in canon law on ‘The Codification of the Holy Canons and of the Canonical Institution in the Orthodox Church’. Bartholomew soon rose to the highest echelons of church leadership. Upon his return in 1969 he was ordained a priest, in 1972 was appointed

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director of the Personal Office of Patriarch Dimitrios and, the following year, Metropolitan of Philadelphia. In 1990, he was elected Metropolitan of Chalcedon, which was regarded as the most senior position among the bishops of the Ecumenical Patriarchate. Bartholomew’s international position was endorsed by his work as representative of the Patriarchate to the World Council of Churches in Geneva, where he held the position of vice-chairman of the Faith and Order Commission and, from 1968 to 1991, was a member of its central and executive committees.5

Relations with Turkish authorities Turkish government pressure on the Ecumenical Patriarchate continued during Bartholomew’s leadership. One of the most contested issues after he took office related to the claim that the Patriarchate was entitled to have ‘ecumenical’ in its title. This applied not only to the Patriarchate as a whole but also to Bartholomew’s title. The Turkish government made reference to Article 42 of the 1923 Lausanne Treaty, which protected all religious minorities in the country and declared that the Patriarch was only the hierarch of the congregation of believers in the Fener district of Istanbul rather than having a wider position within the Orthodox commonwealth.6 The Turkish authorities protested against the use of the word ‘ecumenical’ on a number of occasions, particularly when Patriarch Bartholomew was engaged in activities abroad, such as his address to the European Parliament on 28 May 1994, a visit to the Holy See in June 1995, the invitation to celebrate the US national holiday on 4 July 2004 and the verdict of the Court of Cassation in July 2007.7 The politicisation of the Patriarchate’s ‘ecumenicity’ was endorsed by Prime Minister Recep Tayyip Erdoğan, who publicly expressed his dissatisfaction with the matter on national television in 2004; similarly, a few days later the Turkish ambassador to France, Uluç Özülker, reiterated the same opinion.8 According to the political authorities, the recognition of ecumenicity would imply that the Patriarchate was an Orthodox Vatican, similar to the bureaucratic administration of the Roman Catholic Church, a state of affairs which would conflict with the secular nature of the Turkish Constitution. As a result of the government’s concern, Patriarch Bartholomew made a number of public statements in which he rejected the idea of establishing an Orthodox Vatican; however, his plea did not lead to an official change on this matter.9 In addition to contesting its ‘ecumenical’ title, according to Turkish law, the incumbent of the Ecumenical throne has to be a Turkish citizen and follow the country’s legislation on the status of religion and churches. While Bartholomew is a Turkish citizen and therefore meets the criterion, the application of the citizenship requirement restricts the number of eligible candidates who could be elected to the highest patriarchal dignity. In recent years, the Ecumenical Patriarchate has faced additional domestic pressure from religious extremism. This was particularly evident on

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29 September 1996 when an Islamic terrorist group carried out an attack on the Patriarchate. Although the attack was widely condemned by both Turkish and international actors, even reaching debates within the European Parliament, religious extremism has added pressure to the small number of Orthodox faithful in Turkey.10 In 1994, Bartholomew was allowed to relaunch publication of the Patriarchate’s official journal Orthodoxia, which had been interrupted since 1963. The refusal of the Turkish authorities to reopen the Theological School of Halki has been criticised by the Church as highly detrimental, with a number of scholars even suggesting that not training clergy could lead to the full closure of the Patriarchate in the coming years, for the first time since its establishment in the fourth century. The controversy around the Halki School has been addressed by a wide range of international leaders, for instance on 6 April 2009, when President Barack Obama encouraged further reconsideration of the present status of the School in his speech to the Turkish Parliament.

International relations, symphonia and the environment While the Ecumenical Patriarchate has been facing domestic pressure, Bartholomew has been extremely visible at the international level. He has travelled more widely than any of his predecessors and engaged in dialogue not only with a large number of churches and religious organisations but also with many religious and political leaders on both sides of the Atlantic. In order to consolidate dialogue between Orthodox churches, a few months after his election, on 31 March 1992, Bartholomew set up the first Synaxis of Primates of all autocephalous Orthodox churches. In the following years, the primates met in Istanbul (1992, 2000 and 2008), Patmos (1995) and Jerusalem/ Bethlehem (2000), endorsing the unity of the Orthodox commonwealth and their support for the ‘ecumenical status’ of the Constantinopolitan See. Bartholomew has also continued ecumenical dialogue with other major Christian confessions. He welcomed the visits of Archbishops of Canterbury George Carey (October 1992) and Rowan Williams (November 2003) to the headquarters of the Church. Both visits confirmed a strengthening Anglican– Orthodox dialogue, which started in 1973, and the work of the International Commission for Anglican–Orthodox Theological Dialogue, which has been active since 1989. On a similar note, relations with the Roman Catholic Church have been perceived in a positive light by both churches, as evident in 2004, when Pope John Paul II returned the relics of Sts John Chrysostom and Gregory of Nazianzus to the Ecumenical Patriarchate. Two years later, on 29 and 30 November 2006, for the feast day of St Andrew the Apostle, Pope Benedict XVI visited the Patriarchate. At the end of the visit, the church leaders issued a joint communiqué which encouraged the Orthodox and Roman Catholic faithful to engage in ‘prayer, dialogue and understanding’. In particular, in

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what could be seen as an unusual type of message transcending theological debates, the communiqué made reference to the political evolution of the European Union, stating that: We have viewed positively the process that has led to the formation of the European Union. Those engaged in this great project should not fail to take into consideration all aspects of it that affect the inalienable rights of the human person, especially the right of religious freedom, a witness and guarantor of respect for all other freedoms. In every step towards unification, minorities must be protected along with their cultural traditions and the distinguishing features of their religion. In Europe, while remaining open to other religions and to their cultural contributions, we must unite our efforts to preserve Christian roots, traditions, and values, to ensure respect for history, and so to contribute to the European culture of the future and to the quality of human relations at every level.11 Relations with the Roman Catholic Church strengthened after the signing of the Declaration of Ravenna on 13 October 2007 which tackled a sensitive issue for both churches, namely ecclesiastical communion. The Declaration stated that ‘Rome, as the Church that “presides in love” according to the phrase of St Ignatius of Antioch (To the Romans, Prologue), occupied the first place in the taxis, and that the bishop of Rome was therefore the protos among the patriarchs.’12 Despite this rather bold statement, the Declaration emphasised that Orthodox and Roman Catholic churches need to reflect further on the ecclesiastical role of the Bishop of Rome. The positive dialogue progressed in 2008, when Patriarch Bartholomew returned Pope Benedict XVI’s visit in Rome. Furthermore, on 20 March 2013, for the first time in the history of relations between the two churches, Patriarch Bartholomew attended Pope Francis I’s installation in Rome, a gesture which has been interpreted as having ecclesiological consequences which will become clearer in the next decades.13 In addition to dialogue with Christian churches, Patriarch Bartholomew was instrumental in addressing issues of concern with other religions. A few weeks after 9/11, together with the European Commission, the Patriarch supported an inter-faith ‘Conference on Peaceful Coexistence between Judaism, Christianity and Islam’ which took place in Brussels. The Conference reendorsed the 1992 Berne Inter-Faith Declaration, which stated that ‘War in the name of religion is war against religion.’14 For his services to inter-religious dialogue, in 1997 Patriarch Bartholomew was awarded the US Congressional Gold Medal. In 1994 the Ecumenical Patriarchate was the first Orthodox Church to open an office in Brussels which acted as a direct liaison body with European institutions. In the 1990s the Patriarchate held nine meetings with representatives from Orthodox churches, the European People’s Party and the European Democrats Group in the European Parliament. The meetings were held in the context of the Patriarchate’s support for Turkey’s membership of the

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European Union, with Patriarch Bartholomew publicly expressing his support, such as on 19 April 1994 and 24 September 2008 in speeches before the European Parliament.15 The 1994 address in particular demonstrated Patriarch Bartholomew’s view of the role of the European Parliament in the unity of Europe by stating that: You are the primary contributors to European unification. It is your obligation as political leaders, especially since you are the ones exercising legal authority, to see the protection of the weak and every kind of minority, the safeguarding of freedom of thought and speech, as well as freedom to move and reside where people’s natural, spiritual, and social needs require.16 In his opinion, the political realm is directly linked to the removal of ‘inequality of development that is evident between the wealthy “developed” world and the “underdeveloped” world. Such inequality endangers the future of humanity and the natural world’.17 A few years later, in an article published in European View, Bartholomew took these ideas further and pointed out the interdependence between religion and politics, stating that political action is limited without spiritual support: Of course, politicians alone cannot heal the rifts brought about by extreme nationalism. Religious leaders have a central and critical, indeed inspirational, role to play. We must help bring the spiritual principles of genuine ecumenicity and tolerance to the fore. Our deep and abiding spiritual message stands as a complement to political action, even if sometimes in stark contrast to the secularism of modern politics.18 Bartholomew’s vision of politics reflects the concept of symphonia that developed in the Byzantine Empire. Bartholomew presented his view in more detail in a speech given in November 2005 at the London School of Economics and Political Science in which he argued that symphonia as set out in Emperor Justinian’s Sixth Novel was desirable and should be applied to contemporary church–state relations in Europe.19 Bartholomew has not been the only hierarch in the post-Cold War period to make reference to symphonia. During his enthronement Russian Patriarch Kirill also praised the symphonia model and pointed out that Russia offered a unique case of church–state relations as the political authorities could not overrule religious freedom. Although both Bartholomew and Kirill made reference to the validity of symphonia for contemporary society, the Ecumenical Patriarchate’s vision of church and state has to be understood in a wider transnational context rather than being associated with a specific national model.20 The fall of the Iron Curtain gave the Ecumenical Patriarchate the possibility of publicly supporting Orthodox churches in Eastern Europe. For example, in 1992, Patriarch Bartholomew appointed Archbishop Anastasios of Tirana

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and Albania, who redesigned the religious structures of his Church in a country deeply affected by an atheist policy. Similarly, attempting to strengthen the unity of the Orthodox Church in the Czech Republic and Slovakia after the dissolution of Czechoslovakia, in 1998 Bartholomew gave a Tomos recognising the autocephaly of the new Church. However, Bartholomew’s actions in Eastern Europe have not always been welcomed by other Orthodox churches. In particular, the Moscow Patriarchate was critical of the Ecumenical Patriarchate’s challenging of the status quo of the Orthodox commonwealth. In the Czech Republic, the Russian Orthodox Church was interested in meeting the spiritual needs of the country’s Russian citizens rather than they be subject to Constantinople’s authority. In 2007, the Russian Orthodox Church was officially recognised by the state as having a ‘Representation’ in Karlovy Vary to act as a diplomatic representation to the Czech Church and minister to the Russian faithful. The Czech case was repeated, when, similarly, after a prolonged legal dispute, in 2005 the Russian Orthodox Church was allowed to be in charge of the Cathedral of the Dormition of the Mother of God in Budapest, Hungary, whose religious jurisdiction was disputed by the Hungarian Exarchate of the Ecumenical Patriarchate. The Russian political authorities welcomed the decision, with Prime Minister Mikhail Fradkov visiting the cathedral shortly after legal recognition.21 While the Czech and Hungarian cases demonstrated that relations between Moscow and Constantinople had become tense as the result of the legal actions of third-party churches, public conflict between the two Patriarchates arose as a result of the existence of two Estonian Orthodox churches, one in the country and one in exile. In 1923, the Ecumenical Patriarchate issued a Tomos of recognition for the Estonian Orthodox Church; however, after the Second World War a significant number of the church leadership went into exile, with its headquarters throughout the Cold War period in Sweden. As Estonia was part of the Soviet Union, the Russian Orthodox Church integrated the local Estonian Church into its own structures. After the dissolution of the Soviet Union in the early 1990s, Patriarch Bartholomew became personally involved in the reconstruction of the Estonian Orthodox Church. In 1996, the Ecumenical Patriarchate issued a new Tomos of recognition for the Estonian Orthodox Church as an autonomous entity under Constantinople’s jurisdiction. The decision was avidly condemned by Moscow, leading to a conflict between Patriarch Bartholomew and Patriarch Aleksii II. The latter ceased to mention the name of the Ecumenical Patriarch from the diptychs, an act with ecclesiological consequence resulting in the dissolution of communion between the two churches.22 The Estonian case showed not only the divergent jurisdictional interests of Moscow and Constantinople but was interpreted by Church hierarchs as having a wider impact. In particular, the impact could be seen in the unclear jurisdictional status of competing churches in Ukraine, with three churches.23

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In addition to the Estonian case, in 2003 and 2004 the Ecumenical Patriarchate was engaged in a public conflict with the Orthodox Church of Greece regarding the appointment of three metropolitans in Greece. The Orthodox Church of Greece, which had the support of the state, claimed that it held de facto control of the appointment; however, the Patriarchate made reference to the 1928 Patriarchal and Synodical Act which detailed its jurisdiction in Greece and instead gave it the final word on appointments. The 2003–4 divergence not only demonstrated the Patriarchate’s right to oversee the appointment of higher clergy in disputed territories, but also its position as being above local political authorities. As Victor Roudometof argues, ‘the Patriarchate postulated that its own chapters and regulations take precedence over secular legislation, and that, in the final analysis, a national church owed allegiance primarily to the Patriarchate – and not to secular governments – as the supreme religious authority’.24 The complex religious situation in Eastern Europe and the former Soviet territories has highlighted the uncertain situation of the Orthodox faithful living in Western Europe and more broadly in Asia, and North and South America. The meaning of ‘Diaspora’ is one of the major issues to be discussed at the forthcoming Pan-Orthodox Council which aims to bring together in dialogue all autocephalous churches. The Council, whose preparation goes back to the 1960s, aims to provide a solution to competing jurisdictions and to bring light to the process of awarding church autocephaly and autonomy.25 The Ecumenical Patriarchate has been a key player in encouraging preparatory discussions on the Pan-Orthodox Council, holding four preconciliar conferences in Chambésy, Geneva, on this topic up to 2009. Patriarch Bartholomew has distinguished himself through an active role and promotion of awareness on environmental issues, to the extent that he was labelled the ‘green patriarch’.26 Previous to his spiritual leadership, the topic of protecting the environment was discussed at the 1986 third session of the Pre-Synodal Pan-Orthodox Conference in Chambésy, Switzerland, while in 1989 Ecumenical Patriarch Dimitrios consecrated 1 September as the annual day of prayer on environment, a decision applied to all Orthodox faithful under the Ecumenical Patriarchate’s jurisdiction.27 One month after his inauguration in 1991, Bartholomew placed additional emphasis on environmental issues by organising a conference on ‘Living in the Creation of the Lord’ in Crete, which was officially opened by Prince Philip, the Duke of Edinburgh. Over the following two decades, Patriarch Bartholomew has held six international symposiums on the environment bringing together academics and policy-makers covering a wide geographical area, such as ‘Revelation and the Environment’, held on a ship travelling through the Aegean and Eastern Mediterranean, 1995; ‘The Black Sea in Crisis’, with the participants visiting the neighbouring countries of the Black Sea, 1997;28 ‘River and Life’, held on a ship travelling on the Danube, 1999;29 ‘The Adriatic Sea: A Sea at Risk, a Unity of Purpose’, held in Durrës, Albania and Venice, Italy, 2002; ‘The Baltic Sea: A Common Heritage, a Shared Responsibility’, held in Gdansk,

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Kaliningrad, Tallinn, Helsinki and Stockholm, 2003; ‘The Amazon: Source of Life’, held on a boat travelling the Amazon; 2006; and a symposium in 2007 on a boat travelling on the Arctic Sea.30 Patriarch Bartholomew’s concern for the long-term impact of environmental changes has been supported not only by a wide range of high-ranking political leaders (such as Jacques Santer and Romano Prodi, former Presidents of the European Commission; Kofi Annan, former SecretaryGeneral of the United Nations; and Bill Clinton, former US President), but also encouraged other religious leaders to tackle this topic within their own churches. A significant inter-religious outcome was the signing of the Venice Declaration on 10 June 2002 in the Palazzo Ducale, a document on environmental ethics under the signatures of Patriarch Bartholomew and Pope John Paul II, which stated that the protection of the environment concerned not only governments throughout the world but was also a moral and spiritual duty for churches.31

Conclusion Despite domestic tension, the role of the Ecumenical Patriarchate in the contemporary Orthodox commonwealth has been identified with the initiatives taken since November 1991 by its hierarch, Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew. Bartholomew’s support for regular meetings of Orthodox hierarchs and for Turkey’s application for EU membership, strengthening dialogue with the Roman Catholic Church and the promotion of an agenda raising awareness on environmental issues have found support among both the faithful of his own Church and beyond. These measures have been paralleled by the attempt to forge a new international status for the Church. The re-emergence of Orthodox churches in the former territory of the Soviet Union and the changing nature of the Orthodox diaspora in the West have led to jurisdictional disputes between the Ecumenical Patriarchate and the Russian Orthodox Church. In order to reach consensus, the Ecumenical Patriarchate has taken a key role in organising the Pan-Orthodox Council as the most suitable body to provide the framework for asserting the unity of the Orthodox commonwealth.

Appendix 1

Religious leaders

• •

Dimitrios (Demetrios Papadopoulos) (1914–91), in office 1972–91 Bartholomew (Demetrios Archontonis) (1940–), in office 1991–.

2

Biography

Title: Archbishop of Constantinople, New Rome, and Ecumenical Patriarch.

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Bartholomew (Demetrios Archontonis) was born on 29 February 1940 on the island of Imvros, Turkey. In 1961 he completed his studies at the Theological School of Halki and in the same year he took monastic vows under the name of Bartholomew and was ordained deacon. He held a number of scholarships at the University of Munich, the Ecumenical Institute in Bossey, Switzerland, and the Institute of Oriental Studies of the Gregorian University in Rome. In Rome he attended a number of sessions of the Second Vatican Council and defended a doctorate in canon law on ‘The Codification of the Holy Canons and of the Canonical Institution in the Orthodox Church’. In 1969 he was ordained a priest, in 1972 was appointed director of the Personal Office of Patriarch Demetrios, in 1973 Metropolitan of Philadelphia and in 1990 Metropolitan of Chalcedon. He was elected Ecumenical Patriarch on 22 October 1991 and enthroned on 2 November 1991. 3

Theological publications

• •

Orthodoxia Bulletin d’information Episkepsis (Chambésy).

4

Congregations32

Structure of the Church: Between 2,500 and 4,000 faithful in Turkey, most of whom live in Istanbul; around 300 Orthodox faithful live in Imvros and Tenedos. The size of the Orthodox congregations under the jurisdiction of the Ecumenical Patriarchate remains disputed: the World Council of Churches suggests 5,255,000 faithful;33 the CNEWA’s website (the Papal Agency for Humanitarian and Pastoral Support) lists 3,500,000 faithful;34 while other sources suggest around 16 million Orthodox faithful.35 Archdioceses: Archdiocese of Constantinople and New Rome; Greek Orthodox Archdiocese of America and Exarchate of the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans; Greek Orthodox Archdiocese of Australia; Greek Orthodox Archdiocese of Crete; Greek Orthodox Archdiocese of Thyateira and Great Britain; Greek Orthodox Archdiocese of Italy and Malta and Exarchate of Southern Europe (Venice). Metropolitanates outside Turkey and Greece: Holy Metropolitanate of France; Holy Metropolitanate of Germany; Holy Metropolitanate of Austria; Holy Metropolitanate of Sweden and All Scandinavia; Holy Metropolitanate of Belgium; Holy Metropolitanate of New Zealand; Holy Metropolitanate of Switzerland; Holy Metropolitanate of Italy; Holy Metropolitanate of Toronto; Holy Metropolitanate of Buenos Aires; Holy Metropolitanate of Mexico; Holy Metropolitanate of Hong Kong; Holy Metropolitanate of Spain and Portugal; Holy Metropolitanate of Korea; Holy Metropolitanate of Singapore.

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Dioceses outside Turkey and Greece: American Albanian Orthodox Diocese (Boston); American Carpatho-Russian Orthodox Diocese (Johnstown, PA); Ukrainian Orthodox Church of Western Europe; Ukrainian Orthodox Metropolis of Canada; Ukrainian Orthodox Church of the USA; Patriarchal Exarchate for Orthodox Parishes of Russian Tradition in Western Europe (Paris). The Monastic Commonwealth of the Holy Mountain; The Patriarchal Exarchate of Patmos; The Sacred, Patriarchal and Stavropegial Monastery in Chalkidiki of St Anastasia Pharmakolitria; The Sacred, Patriarchal and Stavropegial Monastery of Vlatadon; The Sacred, Patriarchal and Stavropegial Monastery of the Honourable Forerunner in Essex, England; The Sacred Patriarchal and Stavropegial Monastery of the Entry of the Theotokos in Alabama, USA; The Sacred Patriarchal and Stavropegial Monastery of St Irene Chrysovalantou, USA. Patriarchal institutions: The Patriarchal Institute for Patristic Studies in Thessaloniki; The Patriarchal and Stavropegial and Orthodox Centre of the Ecumenical Patriarchate in Chambésy, Geneva; Patriarchal Institution for Orthodox Missionary Work in the Far East, Athens; The Patriarch Athenagoras Orthodox Institute, Berkeley, CA, USA; Institute for PostGraduate Studies in Orthodox Theology in Chambésy, Geneva; Institute for the Patronage of the Ecumenical Patriarchate in Athens. Patriarchal organisations: Permanent Delegation to the World Council of Churches; Secretariat Committee for the Preparation of the Holy and Great Synod of the Orthodox Church; The Order of the Holy and Great Church of Christ Panaghia Pammakaristos in Athens; The Liaison Office of the Orthodox Church to the European Union; Office of the Representative of the Ecumenical Patriarchate in Athens. The Finnish Orthodox Church and the Estonian Orthodox Church (autonomous churches). Number of clergy and church buildings: 37 communities; 28 parish priests; 2 parish deacons; 4 high schools; and 12 primary schools (Archdiocese of Constantinople and New Rome).36 For data on other archdioceses and metropolitanates see their websites. 5

Population

In 2010, the Turkish Statistical Institute estimated a population of 73,722,988 people living in the country.37 As a secular state (laïcité) Turkey does not officially make a distinction between ethnic groups, while the 1923 Treaty of Lausanne identified as minorities only Greeks, Jews and Armenians. The unofficial ethnic division data are Turkish 70–75 per cent, Kurdish 18 per cent, other minorities 7–12 per cent.38 Religious demography is divided between Muslim (Sunni), 99.8 per cent and 0.2 per cent Christians and Jews.39

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Notes 1 Visit of His Holiness Ecumenical Patriarch Dimitrios I to the Russian Orthodox Church, 18–26 and 29–30 August 1987, Moscow: Moscow Patriarchate, 1987. 2 Elizabeth H. Prodromou, ‘Turkey between Secularism and Fundamentalism? The “Muslimhood Model” and the Greek Orthodox Minority’, Brandywine Review of Faith & International Affairs, 2005, 3 (1), 11–22. 3 Paschalis M. Kitromilides, ‘The Ecumenical Patriarchate’, in Lucian N. Leustean (ed.), Eastern Christianity and the Cold War, 1945–91, Abingdon and New York: Routledge, 2010, pp. 221–39. 4 Ibid. 5 John Chryssavgis (ed.), Cosmic Grace and Humble Prayer. The Ecological Vision of the Green Patriarch Bartholomew I, Grand Rapids, MI and Cambridge: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 2003, pp. 2–3. See also Bartholomew, Ecumenical Patriarch, Encountering the Mystery: Understanding Orthodox Christianity Today, New York: Doubleday, 2008; Olivier Clément, Conversations with Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew I, translated by Paul Meyendorff, Crestwood, NY: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 1997. 6 Heinz Ohme, Das Ökumenische Patriarchat vom Konstantinopel und die türkische Religionspolitik, Erfurt: Erfurter Vorträge zur Kulturgeschichte des Orthodoxen Christentums 6/2007. Online at: http://www.uni-erfurt.de/fileadmin/user-docs/ Orthodoxes_Christentum/Mitarbeiter/Erfurter%20Vortr%C3%A4ge%206%20 Ohme.pdf (accessed 1 March 2013). 7 Prodromos Yannas, ‘The Soft Power of the Ecumenical Patriarchate’, Mediterranean Quarterly, 2009, 20 (1), 77–93. 8 Ibid. 9 James Helicke, ‘Turkey Policies on Minorities Spark Debate’, Associated Press, 7 December 2004. Online at: www.archons.org/news/detail.asp?id=25 (accessed 1 March 2013). 10 ‘Written Question P-2691/96 by Nikitas Kaklamanis (UPE) to the Commission (9 October 1996). Subject: Terrorist attack against the Ecumenical Patriarchate’, Official Journal of the European Communities, 20 March 1997, vol. 40, C 91. 11 The full text is available in ‘Ecumenical Patriarchate, 30 November 2006, Pope Benedict XVI and Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew’, in John Chryssavgis (ed.), Speaking the Truth in Love. Theological and Spiritual Exhortations of Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew, New York: Fordham University Press, 2011, pp. 417–20. 12 See: http://www.vatican.va/roman_curia/pontifical_councils/chrstuni/ch_orthodox_docs/rc_pc_chrstuni_doc_20071013_documento-ravenna_en.html (accessed 1 May 2013). 13 George E. Demacopoulos, ‘The Extraordinary Historical Significance of Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew’s Presence at Pope Francis’ Installation as Bishop of Rome’. Online at: http://www.goarch.org/ourfaith/patriarch-present-atpope-francis-installation/ (accessed 1 May 2013). 14 John Chryssavgis, ‘Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew and Interfaith Dialogue: Mystical Principles, Practical Initiatives’, in Waleed El-Ansary and David K. Linnan (eds), Muslim and Christian Understanding. Theory and Application of ‘A Common Word’, New York: Palgrave, 2010, pp. 81–92. 15 Teresa Küchler, ‘Orthodox Patriarch Blesses Turkish Entry’, EUObserver, 24 September 2008. Online at: http://euobserver.com/article/26800 (accessed 1 March 2013). In addition to addressing the European Parliament, Bartholomew has also given speeches to the European Court of Justice, UNESCO and the World Economic Forum.

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16 ‘Address to the Plenary of the European Parliament in Strasbourg, France, 19 April 1994’, in Chryssavgis (ed.), Cosmic Grace and Humble Prayer, pp. 102–7. Italics in original. 17 Ibid. Italics in original. 18 Patriarch Bartholomeos, ‘The Ecumenical Patriarchate as a Beacon of Hope: Insights into the Role of Religion in a Changing World’, European View, 2007, 6, 117–24. 19 Patriarch Bartholomew I, ‘The Role of Religion in a Changing Europe’, lecture for the London Hellenic Society, London School of Economics and Political Science, 3 November 2005. Online at: http://www.ec-patr.org (accessed 22 February 2013). 20 For a discussion of symphonia see Lucian N. Leustean, ‘The Concept of Symphonia in Contemporary European Orthodoxy’, International Journal for the Study of the Christian Church, 2011, 11 (2), 1–15. 21 ‘The Prime Minister of the Russian Federation M. E. Fradkov Visits the Cathedral of the Dormition of the Mother of God in Budapest’. Online at: http://orthodoxeurope.org/page/14/75.aspx (accessed 1 May 2013). 22 Lukasz Fajfer and Sebastian Rimestad, ‘The Patriarchates of Constantinople and Moscow in a Global Age: A Comparison’, International Journal for the Study of the Christian Church, 2010, 10 (2–3), 211–27. 23 Daniel P. Payne, ‘Nationalism and the Local Church: The Source of Ecclesiastical Conflict in the Orthodox Commonwealth’, Nationalities Papers: The Journal of Nationalism and Ethnicity, 2007, 35 (5), 831–52. 24 For a detailed overview of the 2013–14 conflict between the Ecumenical Patriarchate and the Orthodox Church of Greece see Victor Roudometof, ‘Greek Orthodoxy, Territoriality, and Globality: Religious Responses and Institutional Disputes’, Sociology of Religion, 2008, 69 (1), 69–71. See also Vasilios N. Makrides, ‘Scandals, Secret Agents and Corruption: The Orthodox Church of Greece during the 2005 Crisis – Its Relation to the State and Modernization’, in Victor Roudometof and Vasilios N. Makrides (eds), Orthodox Christianity in 21st Century Greece. The Role of Religion in Culture, Ethnicity and Politics, Farnham: Ashgate, 2010, pp. 61–87. 25 Basil Osborne, ‘Orthodoxy in a United Europe: The Future of Our Past’, in Jonathan Sutton and Wil van den Brecken (eds), Orthodox Christianity and Contemporary Europe, Leuven: Peeters, 2003, pp. 1–18; Kallistos Ware, ‘Towards the Great Council?’, Eastern Churches Review, 1972, 4 (2), 162–8. 26 Crina Gschwandtner, ‘Orthodox Ecological Theology: Bartholomew I and Orthodox Contributions to the Ecological Debate’, International Journal for the Study of the Christian Church, 2010, 10 (2–3), 130–43. See also, Paschalis M. Kitromilides, ‘A Religious International in Southeastern Europe?’, in Abigail Green and Vincent Viaene (eds), Religious Internationals in the Modern World: Globalization and Faith Communities since 1750, Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2012, pp. 252–68. 27 John Chryssavgis, ‘Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew: Insights into an Orthodox Christian Worldview’, International Journal of Environmental Studies, 2007, 64 (1), 9–18. 28 On this particular conference see ‘Address of His All Holiness the Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew I’, in Sarah Hobson, Laurence David Mee and Sally Morgan (eds), Religion, Science and the Environment. Symposium II: The Black Sea in Crisis. An Encounter of Belief: A Single Objective, 20–28 September 1997, Singapore, New Jersey, London and Hong Kong: World Scientific Publishing, 1998, pp. 19–23. 29 On this particular conference see His All Holiness The Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew I, ‘Keynote Speech at the Opening Session of the International

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30 31 32 33 34 35

36 37 38 39

37

Symposium “The Danube, a River of Life”’, Journal of Balkan Ecology, 2000, 3 (1), 5–9. Chryssavgis, ‘Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew: Insights’. Ibid. For the administration of the Ecumenical Patriarchate, see: http://www.patriarchate.org/patriarchate/jurisdiction/administration/synod (accessed 1 May 2013) See: http://www.oikoumene.org/en/member-churches/ecumenical-patriarchate (accessed 1 June 2013). See: http://www.cnewa.org/default.aspx?ID=13&pagetypeID=9&sitecode=US&p ageno=5 (accessed 1 June 2013). Prodromou, ‘Turkey between Secularism and Fundamentalism?’, quotes the 2004 US State Department Report on International Religious Freedom which estimates around 3,000 faithful; Fajfer and Rimestad, ‘The Patriarchates of Constantinople and Moscow’, estimate around 4,000 faithful; Yannas, ‘The Soft Power of the Ecumenical Patriarchate’, estimates at 16 million the Orthodox faithful outside Turkey under the jurisdiction of the Ecumenical Patriarchate and between 2,500 to 3,000 Orthodox faithful in Turkey. See: http://www.patriarchate.org/patriarchate/jurisdiction/administrative-structure/dioceses/Constantinople (accessed 1 March 2013) ‘Press Release’. Online at: http://www.turkstat.gov.tr/PreHaberBultenleri. do?id=8428 (accessed 1 March 2013). CIA World Factbook demographic statistics. Online at: https://www.cia.gov/library/ publications/the-world-factbook/geos/tu.html (accessed 1 March 2013). Ibid.

3

The Russian Orthodox Church Zoe Knox and Anastasia Mitrofanova

Assessments of Russian Orthodoxy and politics in the post-Soviet period routinely take stock of one of the most striking symbols of the Church’s position in today’s Russia, the Cathedral of Christ the Saviour in Moscow. The cathedral was consecrated in September 1997, during the Yeltsin years, but has a much longer history. It was originally commissioned by Tsar Aleksandr I to commemorate the victory of Russian forces over Napoleon’s invaders in 1812. After changes to both the initial location and architectural design, the cathedral was finally consecrated in 1883 on a site close to the Kremlin. It was demolished with great fanfare in December 1931, part of a savage and sustained assault on Orthodoxy which began with the October 1917 Revolution. The site was slated for the construction of a Palace of Soviets, a monument to communist might, but these plans were abandoned when the site was found too marshy to support the construction and steel from the scaffolding was needed for the Soviet effort in the ‘Great Patriotic War’. The profane use of the site as an open-air swimming pool from 1960, at the height of Khrushchev’s anti-religious campaign, underscored the regime’s attempt to obliterate Orthodoxy’s physical presence from the urban landscape and to expunge religious practice from the daily rituals of Muscovites. After the collapse of the Soviet Union in December 1991, the post-communist political authorities adopted an altogether different approach toward the Church, one born of recognition of the potency of demonstrating Orthodox piety (a product of the rise of an invigorated Russian nationalism and the resurgence of faith) and a search for usable traditions from the pre-revolutionary past. Yuri Luzhkov, mayor of Moscow, seized on the political capital to be gained from Orthodox adherence and, in May 1994, announced that the cathedral would be rebuilt as part of an ambitious programme to mark the city’s 850th anniversary. Today the Cathedral of Christ the Saviour stands as one of the most prominent features in the Moscow cityscape. The story of the cathedral is certainly interesting in and of itself, but what is most intriguing is what its reconstruction reveals about the Church’s position in the late twentieth and early twenty-first centuries, in particular its connection with politics, national identity and the broader Eastern Orthodox world.1

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It is not practical to explore all the debates surrounding the reconstruction of the cathedral here (Ekaterina V. Haskins has described it as ‘a magnet for competing versions of Russia’s traumatic past’);2 suffice to say that it was highly controversial and generated vigorous debate about religion and the nation in the new Russia.3 Of interest in this examination is the cathedral’s bold statement about the position of Orthodoxy in post-Soviet society. Russia is a secular and multi-confessional state, and the size and scale of the cathedral stand as testament to the political will behind its reconstruction. It is held up as an example of the Church’s influence in modern Russia and as a symbol of the continuities between the Imperial period, when it was privileged as the state church, and the post-Soviet period, when it is again accorded special status. In this analysis, the communist era is presented as a historical rupture. We would like to suggest that although there are continuities, the reality is much more complex. To this end, this chapter will offer a survey of the changing relationship between church and state over the past century, from the Church’s position as the official religion of the Empire and its marginalisation following the Bolshevik Revolution to its return to centre stage in Yeltsin’s Russia and its increased independence under the Putin–Medvedev regime. It will consider the relations between the episcopate and the state as well as the Church’s interactions with other ‘traditional’ religions. The different internal currents in contemporary Orthodoxy will be highlighted by the discussion of the activities of the clergy and laity. The former will demonstrate the diversity of opinion within church structures, whilst the latter will reveal the highly contested politics of popular Orthodox belief.4

Church–state relations in historical perspective The Christian tradition arrived in Kyivan Rus’ from Constantinople in 988 and in its relations with the political leadership followed the Byzantine model of symphonia, in which the spiritual and secular powers are intimately linked. There is, therefore, a long history of close relations between church and state in Russia. This chapter must be brief in its overview of the historical development of church, state and politics; it will take as its starting point the reign of the last Tsar, Nikolai II, who came to the throne in 1894. Both Nikolai and his German wife Alix of Hesse were deeply pious. Alix was christened Aleksandra Feodorovna on her conversion from Lutheranism to Russian Orthodoxy and embraced her new faith. Although convinced of the bond between Tsar and subject, and the appropriateness of autocracy for Russia, conditions were about to change irreversibly for Russia’s rulers – the humiliating loss in the Russo-Japanese War, ‘Bloody Sunday’ and subsequent unrest of 1905 and 1906, the scandalous presence of Rasputin at the royal court and entry into the First World War all destabilised the autocracy. In terms of broader social changes, rapid industrialisation and concomitant urbanisation, the radicalisation of workers in city factories and the changes world war brought to the social structure (particularly migration and the

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conscription of peasants) also forced change upon a monarchy fiercely resistant to modernising forces. There was an attempt by Nikolai to ‘resacralise’ the monarchy, as Gregory Freeze called it, when Orthodox spiritual authority and tradition were called upon to lend legitimacy to the autocracy and so increase its popularity. This was most evident through the flurry of canonisations; there were seven canonisations during the last two decades of Romanov rule, more than in the previous two centuries, during which there were but four. This attempt was ultimately unsuccessful and served to alienate nonOrthodox religious groups as well as the secularised liberal elite.5 The position of Chief Procurator (Ober-prokuror) is key to understanding church–state relations in late Imperial Russia. This lay position was created by Peter the Great in the Spiritual Regulation (Dukhovnyi reglament)6 of 25 January 1721. The most significant of his church reforms was the abolition of the Patriarchate and the creation of the Ecclesiastical College, later known as the Holy Synod, in its place, headed by the Chief Procurator, a civil appointment. With this, the Church was ruled by a civil authority. The full extent of the Procurator’s control was realised under Konstantin Pobedonostsev, who held the post from 1880 to 1905. Pobedonostsev was the chief adviser to Aleksandr III and Nikolai II. Murray Polner summarised his influence thus: ‘Reactionary, obscurantist, chauvinistic, he helped shape Imperial Russian policies so much so that it is difficult to think of Tsarist reaction and nihilism without immediately calling to mind the name of Pobedonostsev.’7 The encroaching liberalism which advanced the separation of church and state was regarded with utmost hostility by Pobedonostsev, as were many other aspects of the liberal agenda, from parliamentary government to freedom of expression in the media. The views of Pobedonostsev can be taken as the prevailing attitude of the political elite. To turn from rulers to subjects, in 1897 an estimated 69.4 per cent of the Empire’s population were Orthodox adherents.8 Russians, Ukrainians and Belarusians were assumed to be Orthodox. It was illegal to convert from Orthodoxy to another faith; as Heather Coleman observed ‘The law treated Orthodoxy as a marker of Russian nationality and as a hereditary characteristic.’9 Non-Russians were allowed to worship according to their own national traditions, so long as this did not extend beyond their ethnic group. There continued to be repression against Russians adhering to non-Orthodox faiths, particularly the growing number of so-called Shtundisty (Shtundists), Baptists and evangelical Christians. This changed with the Law on Religious Toleration of April 1905, which legalised moving from Orthodoxy to another faith and also permitted ‘schismatics’ to build their own prayer houses and conduct services either there or in private homes, a right celebrated by Russians who were members of religious minority groups. This was not welcomed by the Orthodox Church, nor by conservatives in government, however, who regarded these groups as threats to the Church’s predominance. The events of 1917 meant a dramatic end to these developments, as to the Romanov dynasty. Likewise, the move toward church reform,10 the emergence

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of grassroots political activism,11 the support within the episcopate for greater independence from the state, the restoration of the Patriarchate and the revitalisation of parish life were cut short by the Revolution.12 In his essay ‘The Attitude of the Workers’ Party to Religion’, published in Proletarii [The Proletarian] in 1909, Vladimir Lenin asserted that, as far as the state is concerned, religion should be a private matter.13 Once in power, however, Lenin and his comrades treated religious belief (as well as non-belief) as a political concern. The attempts to undermine the Orthodox Church began soon after the revolution, with the first legislation (‘Decree on the Separation of the Church from the State and the Church from the School’) passed in January 1918. After several years, when it became clear that brutal efforts to ensure the demise of religious life were unsuccessful, the Bolsheviks sought to draw on the voices calling for reform in church life – particularly those agitating against the persistent division between white and black clergy and the privileges of the bishops – to support the Living Church, whose clergy taught that Orthodoxy and socialism were compatible. These ‘red priests’ were supported for a time, but by the early 1930s, when it became clear this attempt to lure believers away from the Moscow Patriarchate was not working, state support for the Living Church ended.14 In 1927, Metropolitan Sergii (Stragorodskii), the Patriarch locum tenens, issued a statement on behalf of the Orthodox Church, a ‘Declaration of Loyalty’ to the Soviet Motherland. Some viewed these efforts to ensure Orthodoxy’s survival as an institution as spiritual corruption. This resulted in the creation of schismatic Orthodox churches by communities of priests and believers who refused to recognise the authority of the Moscow Patriarchate because of what they saw as its compromises with the new, atheist regime. The objectives of Soviet religious policy were to reduce the influence, activity and following of religious institutions and to discredit non-scientific belief. The body created to mediate between church and state was the Council for the Affairs of the Russian Orthodox Church (CAROC), founded in 1943, when the demands of the war years meant temporary relief from the worst excesses of Iosif Stalin’s reign of terror. Tatiana Chumachenko’s study of CAROC portrayed an institution beleaguered by the changing whims of the government and regional authorities who refused to enact central decrees and forced to move from an institution mediating between church and state to one defending clergy and believers from the worst encroachments of the party. Georgii Karpov, leader of CAROC from its creation to its amalgamation with the Council for the Affairs of Religious Cults in 1965, was unambiguous about the position of Orthodox hierarchs: ‘The Council is not interested in having diocesan bishops in the USSR who would be energetic and theologically educated men. A certain number of cultured and theologically educated hierarchs is necessary, however, for the church’s work abroad and to represent the church [to foreigners].’15 The regime’s policy toward the Church was largely shaped by its use as an instrument of Soviet foreign policy.

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These objectives shaped religious policy throughout the communist era, although the intensity of anti-religious and atheist campaigns wavered with the whims of the regime. Elements of the Church benefited from the early ‘thaw’ of the Nikita Khrushchev years, which allowed the return of clergy and prisoners of conscience from the camps, as well as the return of the intelligentsia, who increasingly found the Church, but this was soon followed by the anti-religious campaign of 1958–64, begun at the behest of Khrushchev, which resulted in widespread church closures and the ridicule of religious belief in the media. John Anderson memorably described the Brezhnev era as introducing to religious policy ‘an element of continuity minus excess’, describing essentially continuity in the state’s policy but no overt attack on religion in the manner of the Khrushchev campaign.16 The most notable development in religious policy between Brezhnev’s death in November 1982 and Mikhail Gorbachev’s accession in March 1985 was the June 1983 Central Committee Plenum, held about eight months into Yuri Andropov’s brief period of leadership. At the Plenum, Konstantin Chernenko, who was to become his successor, expressed his concern over continued religious belief in Soviet society.17 There followed a great number of articles in newspapers and journals about the ongoing religious presence, which signalled a sharp increase in anti-religious propaganda after a lapse under Brezhnev.18 The celebration of the millennium of Christianity in the region in 1988 marked a profound turning point in relations between church and state. The Moscow Patriarchate was accorded a new visibility and, in meetings between Orthodox leaders and communist politicians, a new legitimacy. These changes had, of course, been facilitated by Gorbachev’s policies of glasnost and perestroika. Gorbachev needed the support of all citizens, including believers, to push through his reforms. Religious legislation adopted in October 1990 endorsed the new freedoms.19 John Garrard and Carol Garrard argue that the Orthodox Church’s return to national life was secured by a single event: Patriarch Aleksii II’s condemnation of the coup against Gorbachev by communist hardliners in August 1991. In appeals broadcast outside Moscow’s White House, he condemned Gorbachev’s arrest, urged the military to show restraint and appealed for an end to violence. According to the Garrards, this averted Russia’s descent into civil war.20 Whilst this interpretation overstates the significance of a single personality and a single event, it does demonstrate the new profile of the Church and its functioning as an independent political actor. By the time of the USSR’s dissolution, the Soviet state’s tight control of the religious sphere was a thing of the past. The Russian Orthodox Church (hereafter ROC) was free from the shackles of a party-state apparatus which had as its explicit aim the demise of religious superstition. The Church was faced with intense challenges, however, a product of the new religious pluralism, the widespread turn to religion in a search for stability and meaning and the dramatic changes in every sphere of society.

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The Orthodox Church in the Yeltsin years, 1991–1999 The rapid changes in religious life continued in post-Soviet Russia, under the leadership of Boris Yeltsin, elected the Russian republic’s first President on 12 June 1991. A wide range of religious groups, both Russian and foreign, took advantage of the new freedom to minister, missionise and proselytise. Western Protestant churches, especially from the United States, were particularly active, establishing a wide range of social welfare and outreach programmes.21 The Orthodox Church, poorly prepared to minister to a population struggling to find meaning in the dramatic changes, responded by launching a campaign against what it regarded as foreign interlopers.22 The campaign was ultimately successful and led to the passage of a more restrictive religious law in 1997, ‘On Freedom of Conscience and Religious Associations’. Irina Papkova has argued that the passage of the law was not evidence of Orthodoxy’s political clout but was instead the result of the confluence of three broader developments, namely the growth of the Russian anti-cult movement, a xenophobic and nationalist Duma and the state’s recognition that it needed to control religious life.23 The legislation has a number of contentious features which remain the subject of debate, most notably the wording of the preamble, which affirms that Russia is a secular state but goes on to refer to the ‘special contribution of Orthodoxy to the history of Russia and to the establishment and development of its spirituality and culture’. There were numerous other contentious features which have been discussed at length elsewhere.24 Boris Yeltsin, who signed off on the 1997 law, was receptive to the Orthodox Church’s attempts to reclaim its position at the centre of Russian culture and society after its forced marginalisation during the communist era. Following the same reasoning which lead Luzhkov to begin the reconstruction of the Cathedral of Christ the Saviour, support for the Orthodox Church was understood by Yeltsin as a sure-fire way to gain votes come election time.25 Orthodoxy was frequently invoked by Russian nationalists in the 1990s. In some instances, this was wedded to a renewed call for the recognition of the monarchy as the rightful form of government for the new Russia. The Moscow Patriarchate was, for the most part, careful to distance itself from calls for Orthodoxy to again become the state religion, no doubt mindful of the severe persecution which followed the Revolution, which was as much a product of its support for the Imperial regime as it was of its religious calling. By the time of Yeltsin’s resignation on the eve of the new (Gregorian) millennium, the Church had emerged as the most highly visible social or cultural institution in post-Soviet Russia. Garrard and Garrard attribute this almost singularly to the political savvy and the astute leadership of Patriarch Aleksii II.26 Whilst it is true that during Aleksii II’s tenure the Church regained its pre-revolutionary visibility, and was perceived by some observers to exercise a great deal of political influence, a closer look at the emergence of different factions within the Church and the concessions to those promoting a more exclusive understanding of the Orthodox tradition demonstrates that, during

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the Yeltsin years at least, the Church had yet to come to terms with a complex and rapidly evolving political environment in which a range of politicians, parties and movements of various ideological stripes called on Russia’s Orthodox tradition for inspiration, relevancy and legitimacy in the new, postSoviet environment. A major challenge for the Church was to maintain its unity of purpose despite these attempts to co-opt Russia’s religious tradition. This was to intensify as the Church entered the twenty-first century.

The Russian Orthodox Church under Putin Since the election of Patriarch Aleksii II in 1990, the restoration of what had been lost in the Soviet period was a key concern of the Church. By 2000 the Moscow Patriarchate found itself powerful enough to become an independent actor in Russian civil society. As the Patriarch explained in an interview with Vesti: ‘The Church is separated from the state but the Church cannot be separated from society, because it is people who make the Church.’27 There were major challenges posed by the legacy of state atheism, however, such as restoring unity between the Moscow Patriarchate and the schismatic Russian Orthodox Church Abroad. The Patriarch also had to find a middle way between intra-church liberalism (or modernism) and conservatism (or traditionalism). These tendencies diverged on many issues, both general (such as globalisation and ecumenism) and specific (such as liturgical language and the Church calendar). Aleksii II was largely successful in finding a compromise position between competing factions within the Church. The most important decisions were made at the Holy Bishops’ Council, held from 13 to 16 August 2000 in the Cathedral of Christ the Saviour. It adopted several important documents. The first was the new Statute of the ROC (Ustav Russkoi Pravoslavnoi Tserkvi), which effectively centralised the ecclesiastical administration. In comparison with the previous Statute, adopted in 1988,28 it restricts the authority of the highest and the most representative (because even laymen can participate in it) body of the church: the Local Council. This provoked accusations from both liberals and traditionalists of establishing hierocratic order and even of ‘papism’. The next important document, the Basis of the Social Concept of the ROC29 (hereafter referred to as simply ‘the Basis’), was the first Orthodox social document, comparable to the Roman Catholic Church’s Rerum novarum encyclical of 1891. The Basis was prepared by a working group headed by Kirill, then Metropolitan of Smolensk and Kaliningrad. There are two noteworthy elements of the document: first, it primarily addresses Russian state and society paying limited attention to international issues and second, it discusses sociopolitical issues of nationwide importance but pays little attention to grassroots social activism. Although the general public expected the Basis to promote patriotism and obedience to political authority, it reveals no admiration for the state. It explicitly acknowledges that in the hierarchy of forms of government the state as a worldly institution is placed lower than theocracy, or the direct authority

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of God as described in the Book of Judges (3:7). The Basis was criticised by traditionalists for failing to promote monarchy as the only God-given form of state.30 The Basis, however, goes much further, stating that theocracy (or hierocracy, if we follow the Book of Judges) is the highest possible form of government. Therefore, democracy without the leadership seeking divine sanction is positioned in this hierarchy even lower than monarchy (which became the object of liberal criticism). Egor Kholmogorov, a traditionalist and nationalist author, accused the Basis of manifesting Orthodox fundamentalism, arguing that the document questions the divine nature of the state and promotes hierocracy.31 Kholmogorov’s position may be regarded as radical, but the Basis understands the state as an institution which is spiritually lower than the direct rule of God (through the Church). In this way, it represents a break with both the Imperial and the Soviet periods. The Church intended to recreate symphonia in church–state relations, perhaps harbouring more ambitious plans for the future. It is also significant that, for the first time since the October 1917 Revolution, the Church proclaimed the right of Orthodox Christians to disobey the government in instances when ‘the authority forces Orthodox believers to apostatise from Christ and His Church and to commit sinful and spiritually harmful actions’ (Article III.5). This endorsement of potential civil disobedience has been evaluated by some scholars as a ‘revolution of ideas’ in church doctrine.32 In fact, the article was formulated broadly enough to allow both literal and more open-ended interpretations. At a roundtable discussion held on 24 October 2000, Metropolitan Kirill answered a question on whether the ‘civil disobedience’ mentioned in the Basis indicated the ROC’s authorisation of mass protests against salary non-payments. He stressed that: [N]o salary non-payments and no ideal of social justice may become a foundation for civil disobedience. There can be two reasons for civil disobedience. First, if state law completely breaks ties with moral law given by God …. If, for example, tomorrow we have a law allowing children to throw parents from their homes … the Church will declare civil disobedience …. The second reason for civil disobedience involves calls for direct sins or the denial of one’s faith.33 Article VI.6 of the Basis states that ‘The Church teaches that refusing to pay a fair salary for labour is not just a crime against person but a sin against God.’ Thus, salary non-payment may well be determined to be a sinful deed which should be answered by civil disobedience. Nevertheless, the ROC constantly resisted such an interpretation. It is significant, nonetheless, that in this vision of state authority lays the potential for the Church to sanction civil disobedience. For the most part, the Basis addresses domestic questions. It does, however, touch on international issues in its final Article, where it once again manoeuvres between the Scylla of traditionalism and the Charybdis of modernism.

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It does not unequivocally condemn globalisation, recognising it as ‘inevitable and natural and in many ways facilitating people’s communication, dissemination of information and more effective production and enterprise’ (Article XVI.3). At the same time, the Basis points out the negative effects of globalisation: This process, however, has been accompanied by attempts to establish the dominion of the rich elite over the rest of the people and of some cultures and worldviews over others, which is especially intolerable in the religious field … Globalisation developing in this way is compared by many in Christendom to the construction of the Tower of Babel. (Article XVI.3) The 2000 Council made a direct appeal to President Vladimir Putin, dispatching a letter about handing to the Church various items of religious significance, including buildings, icons and land. This issue is often misinterpreted as the ‘restitution’ of church property, which included, before nationalisation, objects of no religious significance. In June 2001 the government indicated that property without religious purpose would not be ‘returned’ to the Church. In 2004 religious organisations were granted the right to permanent use of land located under religious buildings. Up to 2010 the majority of buildings were given without full property rights as well; only about a hundred buildings, as indicated by Putin in an interview in Vesti, became the property of the Church.34 The public debates related to the property issue were largely initiated by museums, which administered most of the objects related to religion (including church buildings which were often occupied by museums). In some cases conflicts between museums and the ROC were resolved to mutual satisfaction. For example, a wonder-working Byzantine icon of Our Lady of Vladimir had, since 1928, been kept at the State Tretiakov Gallery. In 1996 the gallery reopened its home Church of St Nikolas, now functioning both as an exhibition hall of the gallery and as a church. The icon is sealed in a special case to control temperature and humidity. There have also been cases in which the Church and museums have not been successful in their attempts to find mutually satisfactory solutions with regard to property confiscated during the communist era. For example, the building of St John the Divine Church in Moscow was returned to the ROC in 1992 (this did not include the transfer of ownership but allowed the parish gratis use of the building). At the time the building was occupied by the Museum of Moscow, which refused to move to another building until July 2011. Such conflicts are typical. In 2004, several museum employees at Ipatievsky Monastery in Kostroma even went on an eight-day hunger strike in protest against returning the architectural complex to the Church, but it was of no effect.35 The 2000 Council also discussed the issue of canonical unity of all the Orthodox in the diaspora and made important steps towards restoring

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communion with the Russian Orthodox Church Abroad (ROCA, also known as the Russian Orthodox Church outside Russia – ROCOR). It approved the canonisation of the Russian new martyrs eliminated or persecuted for their Christian faith in the Soviet period. Most importantly, the Council canonised Nikolai II, Aleksandra and their four children as passion-bearers but found no grounds for recognising them as martyrs. This departed from the position of the ROCA, which canonised the members of the imperial family in 1981 as martyrs. The status of the last Tsar and his family remains politically controversial. The traditionalist position is that passion-bearers are Christians killed by other Christians, while Bolshevism is seen as a satanic ideology. According to the ROCA, the imperial family was executed by enemies of Christ and its members are, thus, martyrs. For the Moscow Patriarchate, adopting this position would mean admitting to its cooperation with a satanic regime. It was permitted to function openly during the Soviet period – albeit with its activities much curtailed and closely monitored by the authorities. Still, traditionalists call the imperial family ‘martyrs’ even during church services. Orthodox liberals, in contrast, regard this canonisation as based on political rather than spiritual grounds. In 2000 the Church started to advance into spheres previously reserved for the state, most notably the educational system and the Army. The Moscow Patriarchate hoped to introduce Orthodox teaching as a compulsory element of education in state schools. It was not envisaged that this would entail lessons in Orthodox doctrine but instead the foundations of Orthodox culture. In November 2002 the Ministry of Education produced a circular letter on contents of a school curriculum on ‘Orthodox Culture’, which was immediately attacked by liberals, secularists and atheists on the grounds that it taught nationalist ideology. The debate centred on the textbook Foundations of Orthodox Culture by a literature scholar and Orthodox political activist, Alla Borodina, written in 2002. It was criticised by liberal intellectuals for promoting xenophobia and chauvinism. As a result, it was not approved by the Ministry of Education. The Holy Bishops’ Council of 3–8 October 2004 appealed to Orthodox parents to support the teaching of the foundations of Orthodox culture in state schools. But the public debate revealed strong opposition to the ROC’s vision of the curriculum and signalled a public unwilling to accept all of the Church’s initiatives. An open letter signed by ten academicians on 24 July 2007, including two Nobel Prize winners, accused the Church of the creeping clericalisation of Russian society and of ‘Orthodox chauvinism’.36 The obligatory teaching of the ‘Foundations of Orthodox Culture’ was also opposed by non-Orthodox religious leaders. Fierce discussion of the ‘clericalisation of education’ forced Muslim leaders to campaign for the inclusion of Islamic culture in a broader course on the ‘Foundation of Religious Cultures’. Mufti Marat Murtazin, rector of the Moscow Islamic University, said that it was ‘an imposed step rather than our initiative’.37

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The objections from the other religious communities in Russia had much more weight than the arguments of a small number of atheists. If the Church actually hoped to teach Orthodox culture to all children, of all religious backgrounds, it had to withdraw from this position. The initial idea of teaching ‘Orthodox Culture’ evolved into the ‘Foundations of Religious Cultures and Secular Ethics’. It is not likely that the Church had ever planned to teach Orthodoxy to children from non-Orthodox families. The first contact between the Church and the Army began in separate military units in the form of contracts with specific priests without the status of servicemen. In that period several military higher-education facilities launched programmes or even departments of Orthodox culture (for example, a department was created in the Smolensk Military Academy of Anti-Aircraft Defence in 2000). The Patriarch officially consented to the training of special priests for the Army in early 2006. Simultaneously, the Main Military Prosecutor’s Office produced a bill on military clergy. Its most provocative article (3.2) stated that military presbyters may counter the activities of ‘extremist religious currents and sects’.38 The non-Orthodox expressed concerns that their rights might be violated. In that period, non-Orthodox religious organisations paid little attention to interaction with the Army (mostly because only Christianity has a specific stratum of presbyters performing functions which are impossible for laity). The activity of the ROC nearly forced the other ‘traditional’ religions to send their representatives to the Army. Thus, in the sphere of Church–Army interaction one can find trends similar to those in the sphere of Church–school interaction. In relation to the civil conflicts in Chechnya, the ROC as an institution did not sponsor anti-war activities, calling only for reconciliation and the observation of the principles of humanity by the conflicting parties. The Church did not present the conflict as a ‘war’ between Orthodoxy and Islam. On 25 March 2000 Patriarch Aleksii II wrote to the Minister of Internal Affairs stating ‘we do not fight against Chechen people; we respect the traditions of Islam’.39 These developments offer an insight into what the state expected from the Church and vice versa in the Putin era. The Church, forcibly marginalised under Soviet communism, wanted not only the return of its property, but to win back its flock (or, as Patriarch Aleksii put it, ‘not to restore walls of churches and monasteries, but to restore distorted souls’40). Young people were of particular concern. It was not possible to establish a parallel system of religious socialisation providing Russian youth with an alternative to secular education; instead the Church hoped to penetrate the state educational system. The Army also provided the opportunity for catechising young men torn from their normal social environment. These goals did not necessarily mean that the Church intended to play into the hands of the state and educate the younger generation as loyal citizens, but rather as good (Orthodox) Christians.

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The state, for its part, wanted to utilise the ‘national’ church in order to claim moral legitimacy and to integrate citizens belonging to various ethnic and confessional groups into a single nation. After the dissolution of the Soviet Union, Russia remains a non-integrated nation, where political, social, ethnic and other groups have different visions of national values and goals.41 Promoting patriotism for the state is, under such conditions, an impractical task, because citizens have no shared vision of patria, or motherland. The state’s support of the Church–Army interaction is determined by the nature of a conscription army. Unlike a professional army, in which service is for salary, it needs an ideology to maintain commitment. In most countries it is nationalism, but in Russia nationalism is problematic. The temptation to use religion instead of national ideology is, therefore, strong. It is what the Russian state actually understands as symphonia (which might more accurately be described as caesaropapism). Orthodoxy as ideology has also been used by the state to ensure Russia’s great power position on the international stage. In September 2005, addressing the Holy Community of the Holy Mountain of Athos, President Putin said: Of course, in Russia with its 145 million people, Orthodox Christians are the overwhelming majority, about 130 million people. And the resurrection of Russia for us is connected, first of all, with its spiritual resurrection … When Russia is, probably, the largest Orthodox power, then Greece and Athos are, of course, sources of our spiritual kinship.42 He did not explain, however, what makes Russia an Orthodox power. But on the basis of other foreign policy documents and speeches, one can deduce that for Putin this is partly defined by the ‘spiritual’ (here interpreted as ideological) opposition to Western unipolar rule and Russia’s geopolitical role as a key power on the world stage. On 1 February 2007 a journalist from Sarov43 asked Putin two interconnected questions: what is the place of Orthodoxy in the future of Russia and what is his nuclear strategy? Putin’s answer was revealing: ‘Both topics are closely related to each other because both the traditional confession of the Russian Federation and the nuclear shield of Russia are components increasing Russian statehood, creating preconditions necessary to provide internal and external security of the country.’44 The establishment of a connection between Orthodoxy and nuclear weapons is not surprising. Together they are understood by leaders and most citizens as guarantees of Russia’s twofold independence: spiritual and geopolitical. Interestingly, the new Military Doctrine of Russia, introduced in 2000, unlike the previous one, lifted the old Soviet obligation not to use nuclear weapons pre-emptively. It is also noteworthy that on 20 February 2005 several traditionalist Orthodox political organisations in Moscow demonstrated for the ‘nuclear sovereignty of Russia’.45

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The ROC and inter-religious dialogue Harmonious relations between Russia’s religious traditions is mostly maintained by associating each religion with a specific ethnic group (for example, Orthodox Christianity for the Russians and the Belarusians; Islam for the Tatars and the Chechens; Buddhism for the Kalmyks and the Tuvinians). It would be more accurate to speak not of religions but of the religious organisations representing them. In 2005 the Minister of Justice even suggested ‘legally to provide for the existence of only one central organisation of one confessional orientation on a given territory as a body corporate’.46 The Moscow Patriarchate’s relations with other religions and Christian denominations in Russia have, at times, been strained.47 A repeated source of conflict has been the issue of proselytism. The Patriarchate’s claims to Russian souls have been challenged by foreign Protestant organisations, by new religious movements and by the emissaries of radical Islamic groups. The leaders of Russia’s ‘traditional religions’ have united in their opposition to proselytisers from abroad, mostly through the framework of the Interreligious Council of Russia. For example, in September 2004 the Council opposed the Hare Krishna charity programme ‘Food of Life’ on the basis that it implies giving out food sacrificed unto idols.48 But the most painful aspects of relations between the ROC and other Christian churches are not related to their doctrinal differences but to their opposing visions of proselytism. Neither Roman Catholics nor Protestants have anything resembling the Orthodox concept of canonical territory.49 In 2002 the relationship between the ROC and the Catholic Church was severely strained when the visas of several (Polish) Catholic clergy were terminated and they were deported from Russia. This response was prompted by the Pope’s decision to establish four Catholic dioceses in Russia instead of temporary apostolic administrations. The ROC considered this move to be an encroachment upon its canonical territory. Catholic leaders, refusing to accept that Catholicism in Russia is only tolerated as the religion of the Poles and some other ethnic groups, considered it a violation of freedom of faith.50 Since the early 1990s, the ROC has continuously accused the Roman Catholic Church of proselytising on its canonical territory and of supporting the seizure of church buildings by Greek Catholics in western Ukraine (these buildings were owned by Greek Catholics prior to 1946). Because of these tensions, between 2000 and 2005 the activities of the Joint International Commission for Theological Dialogue between the Catholic Church and the Orthodox Church were suspended.51 It should be stressed that this dialogue was conducted not by the ROC exclusively but by the Orthodox Church as a whole (from 2007 to 2009, the Joint Commission functioned without the ROC’s involvement). The dialogue is particularly complicated for the Russian Church because Greek Catholicism (or Uniatism) has become not so much an ecclesiological as a political problem in Ukraine (in the Russian Federation there are a small number of Greek Catholic communities, although no precise

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figures are available). This issue has prevented the meeting of the Patriarch and the Pope. In 2004 a Joint Working Group was initiated to discuss problematic issues between the ROC and the Roman Catholic Church in Russia, but at the time of writing it has not produced practical moves towards improved relations. The relationship between the churches has been characterised by Alexei Dikarev, an official of the Department of External Church Relations of the ROC, as a ‘strategic partnership’ based on protecting traditional Christian values in the conditions of moral relativism.52 This partnership can be explained by the conservative position of Benedict XVI. In 2009, for example, the ROC expressed its support of Roman Catholicism with regard to the Lautsi v. Italy case in the European Court of Human Rights. In October 2007 the first Orthodox veneration of the Holy Crown of Thorns (headed by Aleksii II) took place at Notre-Dame Cathedral in Paris to signify the relative détente in relations between the two churches. The Patriarch’s prayer in a Catholic cathedral was severely criticised by the traditionalist wing, for example by Bishop Diomid. Of all Christian faiths, dialogue with the Old Believers inside Russia is most important for the ROC. The 2004 Bishops’ Council founded a special Commission on Old Believer Parishes (those within the ROC) and Interaction with Old Believers (those outside the ROC). The latter are now seen by the ROC not so much as schismatics but as a religious organisation in their own right, much like the ROCA. Dialogue with the Old Believers is complicated by three factors. First, the Old Believers embrace many religious communities, with various levels of hierarchisation and attitudes to the ROC. Second, the differences between the ROC and the Old Believers have become not so much about ritual as about politics. People finding the ROC too ‘liberal’, or accusing it of cooperation with the state authorities (especially in the communist era), seek refuge in the Old Believer tradition. Third, some Old Believer communities have established connections with Orthodox schismatics outside Russia, such as the Greek Old Calendarists. Improving relations with Old Believers could mean souring relations with the local churches. Participation in international ecumenical bodies, such as the World Council of Churches (WCC) and the Conference of European Churches (CEC), has never been of particular importance for the ROC. In the Soviet period it joined these organisations at the behest of the communist authorities. The increasing liberalisation of Protestant communities, especially on issues such as the toleration of same-sex marriages and the ordination of women, has led the Orthodox Church to reconsider its participation in the WCC (it is worth noting that the ROC’s participation was discussed not by the ROC alone, but at Pan-Orthodox Conferences). Since most of the demands of the Orthodox Church were met by the 2006 WCC Assembly, the ROC continues to participate in the WCC. The ROC also promoted the creation of the World Christian Forum as a non-institutionalised alternative to the WCC. In 2008

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the ROC suspended its membership in the CEC because of the jurisdictional conflict with the Ecumenical Patriarchate in Estonia.

The ROC and inter-Orthodox relations Restoring communion with the ROCA was the most significant ecclesiastic achievement of Aleksii II. There were three main points of disagreement: the cooperation of the ROC with the communist regime; its participation in ecumenical activities; and preserving the autonomy of the ROCA. Obstacles were gradually eliminated by the deconstruction of a church–state cooperation system introduced by Metropolitan Sergii, by the canonisation of the new martyrs and by formulating clear guidelines on relations with nonOrthodox Christians. The Act of Canonical Communion53 signed on 17 May 2007 defined the ROCA as an independent but indissoluble part of the ROC (with a status equal to that of autonomous churches). In fact, communion was restored only with the part of the ROCA headed by Lavr (Shkurla), Metropolitan of New York and Eastern America. In 2001 the Church survived a schism led by its former First Hierarch Metropolitan Vitalii (Ustinov); a new jurisdiction emerged unofficially known as ROCA-V (V for Vitalii) which still has a number of parishes (in Russia as well). Some communities also parted from the ROCA shortly before the 2007 reconciliation, including the famous Lesná Monastery in France, which joined the catacomb church. The majority of the Orthodox in Russia and in the diaspora, however, welcomed the reconciliation. The ROCA-V split several times, resulting in a number of alternative Orthodox jurisdictions. The one initially founded by Vitalii is the largest (although exact figures are not available).54 From time to time parishes or individuals in Russia, dissatisfied with the policy of the ROC (most notably by its close relations with the political authorities), break with the Moscow Patriarchate and join offshoots of the ROCA-V. For example, in 1998 the St Afanasii Monastery near Syktyvkar (in the Republic of Komi) left the ROC to join first the mainstream ROCA, then (in 2001), the ROCA-V and finally (in 2006), a schismatic Rossiiskaya Pravoslavnaya Tserkov (Orthodox Church of Russia). The latter emerged as a result of an assembly held in Mansonville (Canada) and is now headed by the self-proclaimed Metropolitan of Moscow, All-Russia, Los Angeles and All-Abroad Anatolii (Orlov).55 The abbot of the monastery, Hieromonk Stephan (Babaev), became the Bishop of St Petersburg and Northern Russia of that jurisdiction and the Deputy of Metropolitan Anatolii (Orlov). There are tensions in relations between the ROC and the Constantinople (Ecumenical) Patriarchate. The Russian Church does not accept the right of the Ecumenical Patriarch either to recognise the autonomy of the new Orthodox churches or to guide the Orthodox diaspora. The jurisdictional conflict on the Estonian Orthodox Church has been the most divisive. In 1996 part of the Estonian Church (the Estonian Apostolic Orthodox Church)

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declared autonomy without the consent of the Moscow Patriarchate and was immediately admitted to the jurisdiction of the Ecumenical Patriarchate. As a result, the Orthodox parishes of Estonia are currently split between the two jurisdictions. In Europe there are property disputes between the patriarchates, for example, over the Dormition Cathedral in Budapest and the Church of St Nicolas in Nice (both disputes have been resolved for the benefit of the ROC). However, the two patriarchates remain in communion. Another jurisdictional conflict exists between the ROC and the Romanian Orthodox Church (RomOC). In 1992 the RomOC proclaimed the restoration of its Bessarabian Metropolitanate on the territory of Moldova (the Moldovan Orthodox Church is a self-governing part of the ROC); nowadays parishes of the Bessarabian Metropolitanate exist in Ukraine as well. In November 2007 representatives of the two churches met in Bulgaria with the mediation of the Bulgarian Orthodox Church but were unable to arrive at a common position. The patriarchates, nevertheless, continue cooperation and stay in communion.

Popular religion The resurgence of ecclesiastical life led to expectations that the church–state arrangement of the Imperial period might be restored. However, enormous politically significant changes have taken place in mass religious consciousness, conditioned by the influence of the subculture of the Soviet religious underground (the Catacombs) on the Orthodox milieu in general. Alexei Beglov stresses two of its important characteristics. The first is the degradation of the traditional ecclesiastic culture. As a result of the extermination of the clergy, liturgical life nearly ceased to exist and was replaced by various popular services, often conducted by laymen and even women.56 Reciting acafisti (hymns to God, His Mother or saints) became particularly popular. In the absence of churches, practices of veneration of water springs and trees moved from the periphery to the centre of religious life. Second, Beglov points to the erosion of the church hierarchy and of the hierarchal principle. Instead, believers follow charismatic personalities, including those holding no position in the hierarchy, as primary bearers of grace.57 These changes have profoundly shaped popular religious expression. This examination will explore only the politically significant aspects of popular religiosity.58 Popular religio-political concepts are partly shaped by the fact that the majority of Orthodox believers in modern Russia are relatively recent converts. Their past makes them doctrinally flexible and unwilling to trust the Moscow Patriarchate unequivocally. These intertwined factors have contributed to a decline of the pre-revolutionary parochial system and the emergence of the ‘alternative hierarchy’ of charismatic ‘elders’ (startzy) who form non-territorial parishes uniting people living dispersedly. Such developments are criticised by the official church hierarchy, labelling alternative leaders ‘young elders’ (mladostartzy).59

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The collapse of the Soviet Union engendered a wave of eschatological expectations, similar in many ways to those caused by the revolutionary turmoil of the early twentieth century. Initially everything associated with the Soviet state (passports, census, elections, trade unions) was seen as a sign of the coming of the Antichrist. Simultaneously, eschatologically orientated groups developed a negative view of the ‘official Church’, previously meaning Living Church and later, in the 1940s, the legal ROC clergy. The same patterns can be found after 1991. The rejection of the bureaucratic apparatus of the new Russia (most notably the Taxpayer Identification Number, new passports and census-taking) is accompanied by a distrust of the Moscow Patriarchate as apostate for cooperating with ‘godless authorities’. The most important intra-ROC popular political movement of this period was directed against the Taxpayer Identification Number (TIN), made obligatory for all citizens of Russia in 2000. A number of radical Orthodox believers supported by certain priests have claimed that TINs are the seal of the Antichrist, which, according to the Book of Revelation, would be necessary to sell and buy anything. Protest against TINs included demonstrations and protest letters sent to the Patriarch and other Church hierarchs. On 19–20 February 2001 the seventh extended plenary session of the Synodal Theological Commission was held to discuss the TIN issue. After a lengthy discussion, the commission came to the conclusion that the TIN issue was of no religious significance and that the acceptance or rejection of a TIN should be regarded as the private choice of each individual believer.60 The final decision of the session referred to the tradition of the Holy Fathers, who have clearly stated that the seal of the Antichrist would be something that a person would freely accept, thus voluntarily rejecting Christ. The anti-TIN movement did not disappear, however, but became virtualised.61 An increase of eschatological (and anti-governmental) sentiments occurred in 2002 as a result of the exchanging of old Soviet passports for Russian ones and conducting the national census. Radical traditionalists saw both as signifying the coming of the Antichrist. The ROC leadership firmly opposed this interpretation. Aleksii II obtained a new passport himself, commenting: ‘is the “sickled and hammered” one dearer for you than the new one with the two-headed eagle and St. George?’.62 Paradoxically, traditionalists still consider the Soviet passport less dangerous than the new one: some have been fined for refusing to exchange passports.63 Popular (unofficial) canonisations based on political grounds represent another important aspect of lived Orthodoxy. Venerators of unofficial saints have developed complete ritualistic systems, including icons, prayers and acafisti.64 Acafisti are popular because they provide an opportunity for a service without an ordained priest. Political canonisations mostly reflect the popular veneration of people who have done something significant for Russia, or who suffered for Russia or were killed on a battlefield for Russia. Evgenii Rodionov (1977–96), an eighteen-year-old conscript killed in Chechnya supposedly for refusing to convert to Islam, is one of the most widely venerated, though not

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officially recognised, martyrs. Unsanctioned examples of popular ‘canonisations’ are historic figures such as Ivan the Terrible, Grigorii Rasputin and even Iosif Stalin. Deacon Maxim Pliakin, secretary of the Saratov Diocesan Commission on Canonisation, stressed that in such cases ‘their political activity (which is debatable itself) rather that their Christian virtues’ are the criterion of ‘sainthood’.65 Even images of sailors from the Kursk submarine could be found on non-canonical icons (depicted in the margins). There are examples of non-canonical icons and other forms of veneration of officially recognised saints having political connotations. The ‘excessive’ veneration of Nikolai II and the imperial family has been labelled as ‘czartheism’ (tzarebozhnichestvo). Venerators are accused of believing that Nikolai is ‘the second Christ’ who has ‘redeemed’ the sins of the Russian people. Some ‘tsar-theists’ produce icons of St Tsar Nikolai with a cruciform nimbus (‘Zhertva userdnaya’, or ‘Zealous Sacrifice’) – such a nimbus can be used only for Christ himself; or they paint all tsars and emperors of Russia with nimbuses (including such controversial rulers as Pavel I, or Catherine II). Political ideas can be found behind several non-canonical (officially banned) icons of the Mother of God, such as Voskreshaushchaya Rus (Resurrecting Rus), Samoderzhavnaya (Autocratic), Dary Dayushchaya (Giving the Gifts) and others. There is a popular belief that after the elimination of the monarchy she became the mystical custodian of the Russian throne. The popular veneration of the Virgin sometimes becomes (at least from the viewpoint of the ROC) excessive. For example, in the Dary Dayushchaya icon she is dressed in an episcopal robe and holding a chalice (like an ‘archpriestess’). The ROC opposes unauthorised venerations and canonisations. The Synodal Commission on Canonisation officially declined the canonisation of Evgenii Rodionov in 2004. In spite of this decision, the veneration of St Martyr Warrior Evgenii is supported by some clergy of the ROC, such as Fr Dmitrii Smirnov and Fr Alexandr Shargunov. They hope for a gradual change of the official position in response to pressure from below. Many canonisations seem to follow popular demands rather than official design. For example, the 2004 Bishops’ Council canonised the Righteous Warrior Feodor (Admiral Ushakov) and St Matrona of Moscow, a laywoman venerated by ordinary people and disapproved of by some clergy (at least before the official canonisation).66 As of 2011, the ROC clergy counts 190 dioceses and 30,675 parishes with 227 bishops, 29,324 priests and 3,850 deacons.67 They have, of course, different political orientations. Among priests openly expressing their political positions one may find both liberals (such as Hegumen Petr Meshcherinov, Fr Alexandr Borisov, Fr Georgii Mitrofanov and Fr Georgii Kochetkov) and traditionalists (such as Fr Alexandr Shargunov, Archimandrite Petr Kucher and Fr Oleg Steniaev). Bishops normally do not express clear adherence to this or that camp. The only exception is known as ‘Casus Diomid’. Bishop Diomid (Dziuban, born 1961) became the head of the new diocese of Anadyr and Chukotka in 2000. His first ‘Appeal’, signed by several other

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clergy, from his diocese was published on 22 February 2007. The document criticised church leaders for their ecumenical and inter-religious contacts; submission to mundane (‘anti-people’) authorities; unwillingness to protest against the TIN and other initiatives, which, taken together, formed a general accusation of apostasy against the Moscow Patriarchate. The ‘Appeal’ caused wide public discussion; the traditionalist camp in the ROC was for a while enthusiastic about finding the leader. But Diomid soon switched from general criticism of the Church to personal accusations directed at Patriarch Aleksii. The second ‘Appeal’, issued on 6 November 2007, signed by Diomid alone, accused the Patriarch of apostasy for participation in the veneration of the Holy Crown of Thorns (in Notre-Dame, Paris) together with Roman Catholics. Diomid demanded he repent. The two appeals actually promoted ecclesiastical democracy by advocating handing power over from the Bishops’ Council to the Local Council. As a result, the 2008 Bishops’ Council, held from 24 to 29 June, not only condemned Diomid’s activities but committed to defrock him unless he repented. On 17 July 2008 Diomid published his third ‘Appeal’, signed only by him. He accused the leadership of the ROC and Patriarch Aleksii of heresy and apostasy and declared the Church ‘the great whore’. Diomid excommunicated the Patriarch and all the hierarchs of the ROC and declared anathema on them unless they repent. By doing this, he proclaimed himself the head of the Russian Orthodox Church. Until that time he had enjoyed relative support from various respectable traditionalist organisations and communities. But excommunicating the Patriarch changed everything. On 6 October 2008, the Holy Synod, in the absence of Diomid himself, defrocked him. In spite of many prognostications, this did not cause a schism or any protest from the traditionalists. Only a small number of them joined Diomid’s ‘jurisdiction’; the majority accused him of being a provocateur aiming at forcing traditionalists out of the Church (supposedly on orders from the liberals). Alexandr Shtilmark, leader of the traditionalist organisation ‘Black Hundred’, explained: That Diomid was defrocked – it was the greatest tragedy for us. Not the banishment itself, but his behaviour as such. Because he blessed us before and his behaviour is simply tragic for us. For if he stayed in the Church, if he never wrote these completely idiotic letters, but worked with his hands and teeth clenched, and gathered Orthodox people around him, like Metropolitan Ioann (Snychev) did before, who never wrote that the Patriarch is bad and so on. In this case he could have become the national leader, become the leader of the Orthodox patriotic movement. We are terrified that he was not able to bear this burden and it is, on a large scale, a betrayal from his side. He, of course, does not understand it and we are sorry for him personally and some people who stay with him. We are very sorry because they have fallen into pride, and are on a terrible path.68

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The story of Diomid demonstrates that traditionalists, even when highly critical of the hierarchy, do not want a schism. Eschatological expectations with anti-governmental and anti-church connotations are widespread but in most cases not transferred into real sociopolitical life.

The ROC under Patriarch Kirill Patriarch Kirill was enthroned as Aleksii II’s successor in February 2009. Since then he has initiated a number of interconnected reforms. By 2012, five of these appeared to be particularly significant. First, new Synodal departments were established, namely the Department of Inter-relations between Church and Society, the Department of Penitentiary Diaconia and the Information Department. The Church also opened a doctoral and postdoctoral school. Second, since 2010 the positions of staff social worker, catechist and youth organiser have been made obligatory for every parish, although there are still not enough specialists to occupy all vacancies. Third, the Patriarch has promoted members of the laity and married priests. For example, on 22 August 2010 at Solovetskii Monastery he sharply criticised ‘monastic careerism’ (when young men use monastic vows for social mobility);69 the widowed Archimandrite Panteleimon (Shatov) was consecrated bishop and, in 2009, Vladimir Legoida became the first layman to head the Synodal Information Department. Fourth, several large dioceses of the ROC have been divided into smaller ones and new bishops consecrated. Finally, at the end of 2011, the Patriarchate put forward a project to make catechisation compulsory for the sacraments of baptism (in the case of infants, this was for the parents) and of marriage. These five reforms, although they may seem disparate, have much in common. They continue Patriarch Aleksii II’s policy of drawing Church and society closer together, this includes not only regular churchgoers, but the rest of society as well. In parallel, Kirill seemingly intends to narrow the gap between clergy and laity and between monks and married priests. He also aims to raise the religious consciousness of the ‘nominal’ Orthodox and persuade them to live in accordance with Christian ethics. If these ambitious aims are achieved, the Church may become an independent political actor able to implement its ideological position in the national political agenda.

Conclusion To return to the Cathedral of Christ the Saviour, the reconstruction project might be presented as illustrating continuity in church–state relations from the Imperial to the post-Soviet eras. As we have pointed out, its reconstruction has been interpreted as returning to the themes of imperial power, divine favour and national pride. This is problematic in two senses – first of all, the Soviet experience is treated as a moment of historical rupture, when the communist period has informed the interaction of Russian Orthodoxy and politics in the twenty-first century as much as – if not more than – church–state relations in

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the Imperial era. Further, this is to minimise important developments such as the Church’s increased independence as a political, cultural and social actor since the collapse of communism. This is not an arrangement whereby one partner in the church–state relationship is bound to support the other, but instead where the alliance between the two has been expedient on a number of occasions (such as Aleksii II’s condemnation of the coup against Gorbachev in August 1991, the Patriarchate’s support for Yeltsin in 1996 and the passage of the 1997 law). There have, however, been other instances where this alliance has been broken, such as in the matter of Orthodox education, which points to a cooperation born of expediency and pragmatism rather than unconditional loyalty or adherence to particular historical models. As the Church has gained confidence as an independent political actor and lobbyist in post-Soviet Russia, its line has become hardened as well as autonomous. In the new millennium, the Church is neither the ‘handmaiden of the state’ nor a junior partner in church–state affairs. Instead, it is an independent institution which is carving out its own social, political and cultural role. It is faced with serious internal issues, most notably the tensions between social activism and outreach and between distance and authority, which returns it to some of the debates of the turn of the twentieth century. Internal challenges have the potential to bring serious, long-lasting changes to church politics and structures (and, it has been suggested, schism70), which we do not have room to elaborate on here. We shall see, as the century progresses, how the accession of Patriarch Kirill shapes the interaction between the Russian Orthodox Church and politics in modern Russia. The past hundred years have been a period of great turmoil and, as a democratic state, Russia is in its infancy, with little historical precedent to draw on. Although we cannot be certain what pattern, or model, of church–state relations will develop, one thing is certain: Orthodoxy will continue to have a central role in Russian politics, culture and society. The Russian Orthodox Church is raising its voice as an independent actor more vociferously than at any time in Russia’s modern history. The Russian Orthodox Church might be regarded as a source of both stability and change: stability in the sense that it will continue to be a key component of Russian identity, and therefore maintain its social and political currency, and change in the sense that there will be an increased confidence in the Church’s dealings with the Russian state and interactions with politics. How the competing visions of Orthodox life by those dissatisfied with the Moscow Patriarchate will shape the Church under Patriarch Kirill is unclear.

Postscript Since this chapter was submitted in 2011, there has been one incident which deserves mention for the international attention it has drawn to church–state relations in Russia. On 21 February 2012, five members of a feminist punk group, wearing brightly coloured outfits complete with balaclavas, danced

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on the soleas, an extension of the sanctuary platform, in the Cathedral of Christ the Saviour, jumping up and down and kicking and punching the air. The women later explained that they were protesting against the Russian Orthodox Church’s support for Putin in the Duma elections the previous December. Footage of the protest was made into the video for Pussy Riot’s song ‘Punk Prayer – Mother of God, Chase Putin Away’ (Bogoroditsa, Putina progoni) and uploaded to YouTube. The lyrics included the refrain ‘the Lord’s shit’ (sran’ Gospodnia). The release of the song represented a very modern protest, but Pussy Riot’s central objection – the close links between church and state – reflected debates about the appropriate relationship between the Orthodox Church and the Russian state which are as old as the introduction of Byzantine Christianity to the Rus’ lands. These have been revived by both domestic and international commentators since the release of the Moscow Patriarchate from the strictures imposed by the Soviet authorities. As this chapter argued, the Cathedral of Christ the Saviour has symbolic weight within these debates, and Pussy Riot’s choice of protest space reflects this. The protracted detention, trial and conviction of three of Pussy Riot’s members for hooliganism motivated by religious hatred coupled with the Western media’s intense interest in the Putin regime meant that the fate of the protestors became a cause célèbre for human rights campaigners and for those critical of the Moscow Patriarchate’s links with state authority. One member was released in October 2012 on the grounds that she was prevented from fully participating in the performance by guards at the cathedral. At the time of writing, there remains intense international scrutiny of the fate of the two other women, who are serving sentences in penal colonies in Mordovia and Perm oblasts, far from their families in Moscow. The wide range of views within Russia on the incident demonstrates the diversity of opinions on the issues of freedom of conscience, church–state relations and the status of sacred space in a secular state. Though many political figures opposing Putin have been vocal supporters of Pussy Riot, there has generally been less sympathy for the group in Russia than internationally. The guerrilla performance was condemned by some as obscene and blasphemous, and there remains limited support for its broader political agenda. Believers and clergy differ on this issue, as on others. It continues to be debated in both Russia and the West, thereby highlighting the ongoing importance of the Orthodox Church to political and cultural discussions in contemporary Russia.

Appendix 1

Religious leaders

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Patriarch Aleksii II (Ridiger Alexei Mikhailovich) (1929–2008), in office 1990–2008

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Patriarch Kirill (Gundiaev Vladimir Mikhailovich) (1946–), in office 2009–.

2

Biography

Title: Patriarch of Moscow and All Russia. Patriarch Kirill I was born Vladimir Mikhailovich Gundiaev in Leningrad on 20 November 1946. In 1969, he took monastic vows, becoming an Orthodox priest like his father and grandfather before him. He studied at the Leningrad Theological Academy, graduating in 1970, and rose swiftly through the ranks of the Church, becoming Archbishop (later Metropolitan) of Smolensk and Kaliningrad in 1984, Chairman of the Department of External Church Relations in 1989, and a permanent member of the Holy Synod in the same year. He was enthroned the sixteenth Patriarch of Moscow and all Rus’ on 1 February 2009 in a ceremony conducted in the Cathedral of Christ the Saviour in Moscow. 3

Theological publications

• • •

•

Alfa i Omega [Alpha and Omega] Bogoslovskie trudy, almanac [Theological Works] Bogoslovskii vestnik Moskovskoi Pravoslavnoi Dukhovnoi Akademii [Theological Bulletin of the Moscow Theological Academy] Hristianskoe chtenie [Christian Reading]; Trudy Minskoi Dukhovnoi Akademii, almanac [Proceedings of the Minsk Theological Academy] Vestnik Pravoslavnogo Sviato-Tikhonovskogo Gumanitarnogo Universiteta [Bulletin of the St Tikhon Orthodox Humanitarian University in Moscow] Pravoslavnyi put [Orthodox Way], published by the ROCA Trudy Kievskoi Dukhovnoi Akademii, biannual publication [Proceedings of the Kyiv Theological Academy] Tserkov i vremya [Church and Time] Vestnik tserkovnoi istorii [Bulletin of Church History] Voda zhivaya. Sankt-Peterburgskii tserkovnyi vestnik [Aqua Vita. The Church Bulletin of St Petersburg] Zhurnal Moskovskoi Patriarkhii [Journal of the Moscow Patriarchate].

4

Congregations

• • •

• • • • •

There are 33,174 clergy; 805 monasteries, of which 407 are nunneries; the number of church buildings is unknown; 30,675 parishes; 190 bishoprics.71 The most important dioceses are the Metropolitanate of Kyiv and All Ukraine, the Metropolitanate of St Petersburg and Ladoga, the Metropolitanate

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of Krutitsy and Kolomna, the Metropolitanate of Minsk and Slutsk, the Metropolitanate of Chişinău and All Moldova (the heads of these bishoprics are the permanent members of the Holy Synod). 5

Population

The 2010 Russian census reported a population of 142,946,800. The ethnic composition is as follows: Russians, 80.9 per cent, Tatars, 5.31 per cent, Ukrainians, 1.93 per cent, Bashkirs, 1.58 per cent, Chuvashs, 1.44 per cent, Chechens, 1.43 per cent, Armenians, 1.81 per cent, other ethnic groups, less than 1 per cent each.72 The census did not include a question on religion (nor did the previous census, taken in 2002). For this reason, figures on religious affiliation are not available. Sociological data on religious affiliation are very diverse. In 2010 a poll conducted by the government-sponsored All-Russian Centre for the Study of Public Opinion (VTsIOM) found that 75 per cent of the respondents claimed to profess Orthodoxy; Islam, 5 per cent; Catholicism, 1 per cent; Protestantism, less than 1 per cent; Buddhism, less than 1 per cent; Judaism, 1 per cent; non-confessional believers, 3 per cent; non-believers, 8 per cent; uncertain, 5 per cent.73 An independent sociological service ‘Sreda’ in 2011 provided different data: Orthodox, members of the ROC, 42 per cent; Orthodox, non-members of any church, 7 per cent; Orthodox, members of a church other than the ROC, 1 per cent; non-confessional believers, 27 per cent; non-believers, 13 per cent; Muslims (Sunni and non-Sunni), 4 per cent.74

Acknowledgement The preparation of this chapter was supported by the British Academy Visiting Scholars Scheme.

Notes 1 For more detailed discussion of the cathedral see Andrew Gentes, ‘The Life, Death and Resurrection of the Cathedral of Christ the Saviour, Moscow’, History Workshop Journal, 1998, 46, 63–95, and Dmitri Sidorov, ‘National Monumentalization and the Politics of Scale: The Resurrections of the Cathedral of Christ the Savior in Moscow’, Annals of the Association of American Geographers, 2000, 90 (3), 548–52. 2 Ekaterina V. Haskins, ‘Russia’s Postcommunist Past: The Cathedral of Christ the Savior and the Reimagining of National Identity’, History and Memory, 2009, 21 (1), 25–62, p. 25. 3 For more on these broader debates, see Bruce Grant, ‘New Moscow Monuments, or, States of Innocence’, American Ethnologist, 2001, 28 (2), 332–62, p. 335; Donald N. Jensen, ‘The Boss: How Yuri Luzhkov Runs Moscow’, Demokratizatsiya, 2000, 8 (1), 83–122; Zoe Knox, ‘The Symphonic Ideal: The Moscow Patriarchate’s PostSoviet Leadership’, Europe-Asia Studies, 2003, 55 (4), 575–96; Leslie L. McGann, ‘The Russian Orthodox Church under Patriarch Aleksii II and the Russian State: An Unholy Alliance?’, Demokratizatsiya, 1999, 7 (1), 12–27; Kathleen E. Smith, Mythmaking in the New Russia, Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 2002,

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4 5 6

7 8

9 10 11 12

13 14 15 16 17 18 19

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Zoe Knox and Anastasia Mitrofanova pp. 102–30; Thanos Pagonis and Andy Thornley, ‘Urban Development Projects in Moscow: Market/State Relations in the New Russia’, European Planning Studies, 2000, 8 (6), 751–66. Interested readers are directed to the works cited in the notes (which are, where possible, in English) for more detailed discussion of the individuals, issues, movements and events referred to necessarily only cursorily here. Gregory L. Freeze, ‘Subversive Piety: Religion and the Political Crisis in Late Imperial Russia’, Journal of Modern History, 1996, 68 (2), 308–50, p. 349. An extended discussion of the most accurate English translation of Dukhovnyi reglament can be found in the introduction to Alexander V. Muller (translated by and ed.), The Spiritual Regulation of Peter the Great, Seattle: University of Washington Press, 1972, pp. 85–7. Murray Polner, ‘Foreword’, in Konstantin P. Pobedonostsev, Reflections of a Russian Statesman, Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1965, p. v. This figure includes Old Believers. V. M. Kabuzan, Rasprostranenie pravoslaviia i drugikh konfessii v Rossii v XVIII–nachale XX v. (1719–1917 gg.) [Diffusion of Orthodoxy and other Confessions in Russia in the Eighteenth–Early Twentieth Centuries (1719–1917)], Moscow: Institut rossiiskoi istorii (Rossiiskaia akademiia nauk), 2008, p. 247. Heather J. Coleman, Russian Baptists and Spiritual Revolution, 1905–1929, Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2005, p. 19. James W. Cunningham, A Vanquished Hope: The Movement for Church Renewal in Russia, 1905–1906, Crestwood, NY: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 1981. Jennifer Hedda, His Kingdom Come: Orthodox Pastorship and Social Activism in Revolutionary Russia, DeKalb: Northern Illinois University Press, 2008. For debates on the Church’s independence from the state, see the different interpretations in Richard Pipes, Russia under the Old Regime, London: Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 1974, pp. 221–48, and Gregory Freeze, ‘Handmaiden of the State? The Orthodox Church in Imperial Russia Reconsidered’, Journal of Ecclesiastical History, 1985, 36, 82–102. Vladimir I. Lenin, ‘The Attitude of the Workers’ Party to Religion (1909)’, in Collected Works, vol. 15 (March 1908–August 1909), London: Lawrence & Wishart, 1963, pp. 402–13. See Edward E. Roslof, Red Priests: Renovationism, Russian Orthodoxy, and Revolution, 1905–1946, Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2002. Tatiana A. Chumachenko, Church and State in Soviet Russia: Russian Orthodoxy from World War II to the Khrushchev Years, ed. and translated by Edward E. Roslof, Armonk, NY and London: M. E. Sharpe, 2002, p. 116. John Anderson, Religion, State and Politics in the Soviet Union and Successor States, 1953–1993, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1994, p. 68. Chernenko’s speech is reproduced in Sovetskaia Rossiia, 15 June 1983, p. 3. For an overview of the renewed polemic against religion in the Soviet media, see Paul D. Steeves, ‘The June 1983 Plenum and the Post-Brezhnev Anti-Religious Campaign’, Journal of Church and State, 1986, 28 (3), 439–57, p. 442. Zakon Soyuza Sovetskikh Sotsialisticheskikh Respublik, O svobode sovesti i religioznykh organizatsiiakh [On Freedom of Conscience and Religious Organisations], in Novye zakony SSSR, Moscow: Iuridicheskaia literatura, 1991, pp. 4–16. John Garrard and Carol Garrard, Russian Orthodoxy Resurgent: Faith and Power in the New Russia, Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2008, p. 34. For two examples, see the soup kitchen run by the Christian Church of Moscow examined in Melissa Caldwell, Not by Bread Alone: Social Support in the New Russia, Berkeley, Los Angeles and London: University of California Press, 2005 and the educational initiatives of CoMission explored in Perry L. Glanzer, The

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23 24

25

26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33

34 35 36

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Quest for Russia’s Soul: Evangelicals and Moral Education in Post-Communist Russia, Waco, TX: Baylor University Press, 2002. For an examination of the Moscow Patriarchate’s response to the activities of one American religious organisation, see Emily B. Baran, ‘Contested Victims: Jehovah’s Witnesses and the Russian Orthodox Church, 1990–2004’, Religion, State and Society, 2007, 35, 261–78. For broader debates, see John Witte, Jr and Michael Bourdeaux (eds), Proselytism and Orthodoxy in Russia: The New War for Souls, New York: Orbis Books, 1999. Irina Papkova, The Orthodox Church and Russian Politics, New York: Oxford University Press and Washington, DC: Woodrow Wilson Center Press, 2011, p. 76. See John D. Basil, ‘Church–State Relations in Russia: Orthodoxy and Federation Law, 1990–2004’, Religion, State and Society, 2005, 33 (2), 151–63; Zoe Knox, Russian Society and the Orthodox Church: Religion in Russia after Communism, London: Routledge, 2005, pp. 1–4 and 167–72; and Christopher Marsh, Religion and the State in Russia and China: Suppression, Survival and Revival, New York and London: Continuum, 2011, pp. 110–47. Edwin Bacon, ‘The Church and Politics in Russia: A Case Study of the 1996 Presidential Election’, Religion, State and Society, 1997, 25 (3), 253–66. Papkova has argued that the misguided belief of key political figures that aligning with the Orthodox Church would garner votes placed the Church at the forefront of political rhetoric in the mid- to late 1990s. Papkova, The Orthodox Church, pp. 152–91. Garrard and Garrard, Russian Orthodoxy Resurgent. ‘Alexii II: tserkov otdelena ot gosudarstva, no ne ot obshchestva’ [Aleksii II: the Church is Separated from State, not from Society], Vesti.ru. Online at: http://www. vesti.ru/doc.html?id=152060 (accessed 13 December 2007). The old Statute (in Russian) may be found online in the Open Orthodox Encyclopedia ‘Drevo’ at: http://drevo-info.ru/articles/17772.html (accessed 13 December 2007). The official English translation may be found on the official website of the Department of External Relations of the ROC, at: http://www.mospat.ru/en/documents/social-concepts/ (accessed 23 January 2012). Miroslav Bakulin, ‘Chto nam naviazyvaiut?’ [What Is Being Imposed on Us?], Russkaya nedelya, 14 September 2009. Online at: http://russned.ru/politika/chtonam-navyazyvayut (accessed 23 January 2012). Egor Kholmogorov, ‘Zastenchivaia ierokratiia’ [A Shy Hierocracy], Otechestvennye zapiski, 2001, 1. Online at: http://www.strana-oz.ru/?numid=1&article=107 (accessed 23 January 2012). ’Natsionalnaia tserkov: privelegia ili otvetstvennost? Kruglyi stol’ [National Church: Privilege or Responsibility? A Roundtable Discussion], Otechestvennie zapiski, 2001, 39 (1). ‘Osnovy sotzialnoi kontzeptzii Russkoi Pravoslavnoi Tserkvi. Kruglyi stol. 24 octiabria 2000 g. RAGS, Moskva’ [The Basis of the Social Concept of the Russian Orthodox Church. A Roundtable Discussion. 24 October 2000. RAGS, Moscow], Gosudarstvo, religia, tserkov, 2001, 41 (2). Olga Skabeeva, ‘Dialog gosudarstva i tserkvi vyshel na novyi uroven’ [The Dialogue between State and Church Has Reached a New Level], Vesti.ru. Online at: http:// www.vesti.ru/doc.html?id=334473 (accessed 5 January 2010). ‘Golodovka v monastyre’ [Hunger Strike in a Monastery], Rossiiskaia Gazeta – Verkhniaia Volga. Online at: http://www.rg.ru/2004/12/22/golodvka.html (accessed 22 December 2004). ‘Otkrytoe pismo desiati akademikov RAN prezidentu Rossiiskoi Federatzii V.V. Putinu’ [An Open Letter of the Ten Academicians of the Russian Academy of Science to the President of the Russian Federation V. V. Putin]. Online at: http:// www.skeptik.net/religion/science/10academ.htm (accessed 10 October 2011).

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37 ‘Prepodavanie “Osnov islamskoi kultury” v shkolah – ne bolee chem vynuzhdennaia mera, priznaiut v Sovete muftiev Rossii’ [Teaching ‘The Foundations of Islamic Culture’ at Schools is Nothing but an Imposed Measure, the Council of Muftis of Russia Admits]. Online at: http://www.patriarchia.ru/db/text/137335. html (accessed 31 August 2006). 38 ‘Proekt Federalnogo zakona RF ‘O voennykh sviashchennikakh’, podgotovlennogo Glavnoi voennoi prokuraturoi’ [The Project of the Federal Law of the Russian Federation ‘On Military Chaplains’ Prepared by the Main Military Prosecutor’s Office], Portal Credo.ru. Online at: http://www.portal-credo.ru/site/?act=news&id =40660&topic=133 (accessed 21 February 2006). 39 ‘Slovo Sviateichego Patriarkha Aleksiia ministru vnutrennikh del RF Rushailo V.B.’ [The Word of His Holiness Patriarch Aleksii to the Minister of Internal Affairs of the Russian Federation Rushailo V.B.], Miloserdie.ru, An Orthodox Portal on Charity and Social Work. Online at: http://www.miloserdie.ru/index_old. php?ss=1&s=69&id=7614 (accessed 25 March 2000). 40 ‘Kazhdyi rossiyanin dolzhen znat osnovy pravoslavnoi kultury, schitaet patriarkh Aleksii’ [Each Russian National Should Know the Foundations of the Orthodox Culture, Patriarch Aleksii Thinks], Interfax-religion. Online at: http://www.interfax-religion.ru/?act=news&div=7721 (accessed 23 November 2005). 41 Anastasia V. Mitrofanova, The Politicization of Russian Orthodoxy: Actors and Ideas, Stuttgart: Ibidem-Verlag, 2005. 42 ‘Zakluchitelnoe slovo na vstreche s chlenami Sviashchennogo Kinota’ [Concluding Remarks at the Meeting with the Members of the Holy Community of Mount Athos], President Rossii, Official Website of the President of Russia. Online at: http:// archive.kremlin.ru/text/appears/2005/09/93574.shtml (accessed 23 January 2012). 43 Sarov (former Arzamas-16) is a closed city where the Federal Nuclear Centre is based; at the same time, it is a monastery where one of the greatest Russian saints lived, St Seraphim of Sarov. 44 ‘Rossiiu ukrepliaiut pravoslavie i iadernoe oruzhie, schitaet Putin’ [Russia is Strengthened by Orthodoxy and Nuclear Weapons, Putin Thinks]. Online at: http://news.mail.ru/politics/1247943/ (accessed 1 February 2007). 45 ‘Pravoslavnaya obshchestvennost na mitinge v Moskve potrebovala ne dopustit kontrolia SShA nad iadernymi silami Rossii’ [The Orthodox Community at the Meeting in Moscow Demands not to Permit US Control over Russian Nuclear Force], Portal Credo.ru. Online at: http://www.portal-credo.ru/site/?act=news&id=30971 (accessed 21 February 2005). 46 Quoted in: Boris Falikov, ‘Razdroblennost vo blago’ [Atomisation is Beneficial], Gazeta.Ru. Online at: http://portal-credo.ru/site/?act=monitor&id=7249 (accessed 2 December 2005). 47 The 2000 Bishops’ Council adopted ‘The Basic Principles of Relations between the ROC and Other Christian Faiths’. The official English translation may be found on the official website of the Department of the External Church Relations, at: http://www.mospat.ru/en/documents/attitude-to-the-non-orthodox/ (accessed 2 December 2005). 48 ‘Mezhreligioznyi Sovet Rossii vystupil protiv blagotvoritelnoi programmy krishnaitov ‘Pishcha zhizni’ [The Inter-religious Council of Russia Speaks against the Charity Programme of the Hare Krishna ‘Food of Life’], Komsomolskaia Pravda. Online at: http://kp.ru/online/news/17793/ (accessed 23 September 2004). 49 Olga Kazmina, Russkaia Pravoslavnaia Tserkov i novaia religioznaia situatsia v Rossii [The Russian Orthodox Church and the New Religious Situation in Russia], Moscow: Izdatelstvo MGU, 2009. 50 Zoe Knox, ‘Religious Freedom in Russia’, in Mark D. Steinberg and Catherine Wanner (eds), Religion, Morality, and Community in Post-Soviet Societies, Washington, DC and Bloomington: Woodrow Wilson Center Press and Indiana University Press, 2008, pp. 281–314.

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51 Alexei Dikarev, ‘Sovremennoe sostoyanie otnoshenii mezhdu Russkoi Pravoslavnoi i Rimsko-Katolicheskoi Tserkvami: ofitsialnyi vzgliad’ [Contemporary Relations between the Russian Orthodox and the Roman Catholic Churches: The Official Position]. Online at: http://www.mospat.ru/ru/2010/02/16/news13315/ (accessed 16 February 2010). 52 Ibid. 53 The official English translation may be found on the official website of the Department of the External Church Relations, at: http://www.mospat.ru/en/documents/act-of-canonical-communion/ (accessed 23 January 2012). 54 More information may be found on the official website, at: http://www.roca-sobor. org/ (accessed 23 January 2012). 55 More information on this jurisdiction may be found on its official website, at: http://www.rospc.org/ (accessed 23 January 2012). 56 Alexei Beglov, ‘V poiskakh ‘bezgreshnykh katakomb’. Tserkovnoe podpolie v SSSR [In Search of the ‘Sinless Catacombs’. The Church Underground in the USSR], Moscow: Arefa, 2008, p. 205. 57 Ibid., p. 210. 58 For other, non-overtly political aspects of lived Orthodoxy, see Stella Rock, ‘“They Burned the Pine, but the Place Remains All the Same”: Pilgrimage in the Changing Landscape of Soviet Russia’, in Catherine Wanner (ed.), State Secularism and Lived Religion in Soviet Russia and Ukraine, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012, pp. 159–89; Inna Naletova, ‘Orthodoxy beyond the Walls of the Church: A Sociological Inquiry into Orthodox Religious Experience in Contemporary Russian Society’, PhD dissertation, Boston University, 2006; Mitrofanova, The Politicization of Russian Orthodoxy and the various chapters in Steinberg and Wanner (eds), Religion, Morality, and Community in Post-Soviet Societies. 59 On the tradition of spiritual elders, see Irina Paert, Spiritual Elders: Charisma and Tradition in Russian Orthodoxy, DeKalb: Northern Illinois University Press, 2010. 60 ‘Itogovii document zasedania rasshirennogo plenuma Sinodalnoi Bogoslovslkoi komissii’ [The Final Document of the Expanded Plenary Session of the Synodal Theological Commission], Mosksovskii Zhurnal, 2001, 31 (4). 61 Like many other controversial issues in Church life, the TIN continued to be debated on internet chat rooms, discussion boards and on blogs. 62 ‘Alexii II prizyvaet ne iskat priznakov kontza sveta’ [Aleksii II Calls Not to Look for the Signs of the Apocalypse], Mir religii. Online at: http://www.religio.ru/ news/4049.html (accessed 15 July 2002). 63 ‘Zhiteli Tylskoi oblasti otkazyvaiutsya ot poluchenia rossiiskogo pasporta’ [People from the Tula Oblast Refuse to Receive Russian Passports], Religia i SMI. Online at: http://www.religare.ru/2_86627.html (accessed 1 June 2011). 64 Various non-canonical icons can be found at: A. V.Slesarev, ‘Sovremennye psevdopravoslavnye ikony’ [Modern Pseudo-Orthodox Icons], Anti-Raskol. Online at: http://www.anti-raskol.ru/pages/1251 (accessed 23 September 2011). 65 Quoted in: Julia Zaitseva, ‘Akafisty Ivanu Groznomu, Iosifu Stalinu i Igoriu Talkovu kak forma okolotserkovnogo folklora’ [Acafisti to Ivan the Terrible, Joseph Stalin and Igor Talkov as a Form of Para-ecclesiastical Folklore], Kievskaya Rus’. Online at: http://www.kiev-orthodox.org/site/worship/2136/ (accessed 4 December 2009). 66 Deacon Andrei Kuraev, Okkultizm v pravoslavii [Occultism in Orthodoxy], Moscow: Blagovest, 1998, pp. 215–18. 67 ‘Doklad Patriarkha Moskovskogo i Vseiya Rusi Kirilla na Arkhiereiskom Sobore Russkoi Pravoslavnoi Tserkvi (2 fevralya 2011 goda)’ [The Report of the Patriarch of Moscow and All Rus’ Kirill to the Bishops’ Council of the Russian Orthodox Church (2 February 2011)], Official Website of the ROC. Online at:

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Zoe Knox and Anastasia Mitrofanova http://www.patriarchia.ru/db/text/1399993.html (accessed 2 February 2011); ‘Eparkhii Russkoi Pravoslavnoi Tserkvi, obrazovannye v 2009–2011 godakh’ [The Dioceses of the Russian Orthodox Church Created in 2009–2011], Pravoslavie i mir. Online at: http://www.pravmir.ru/eparxii-russkoj-pravoslavnoj-cerkvi-obrazovannye-v-2009–2011-godax/ (accessed 3 June 2011). Interview conducted by Anastasia Mitrofanova with Alexandr Shtilmark, 26 December 2008, Moscow. ‘Sviateishii Patriarkh Kirill: samoe otvratitelnoe v Tserkvi eto monasheskii karierizm’ [His Holiness Patriarch Kirill: Monastic Careerism is the Most Disgusting Thing in the Church], Official Website of the Moscow Patriarchate. Online at: http://www.patriarchia.ru/db/text/1256252.html (accessed 23 August 2010). Papkova, The Orthodox Church and Russian Politics, p. 196. ‘Doklad Patriarkha Moskovskogo i Vseiya Rusi Kirilla na Arkhiereiskom Sobore Russkoi Pravoslavnoi Tserkvi (2 fevralya 2011 goda)’; ‘Eparkhii Russkoi Pravoslavnoi Tserkvi, obrazovannye v 2009–2011 godakh’. ‘Ob itogakh vserossiiskoi perepisi naseleniya 2010 goda (prezentatsiya)’ [On the Results of the 2010 All-Russian Population Census: A Presentation]. Online at: http://www.perepis-2010.ru/results_of_the_census/result-december-2011.ppt (accessed 15 March 2012). The data relate only to people who indicated their nationality. ‘Verim li my v Boga?’ (Do We believe in God?), VTsIOM Press Release No.1461, 30 March 2010. Online at: http://wciom.ru/index.php?id=459&uid=13365 (accessed 15 March 2012). ‘Veroispovedanie rossiyan – kto i chto ispoveduet?’ [Religious Affiliation of Russian Nationals – Who Professes What?], Official Website of Sreda. Online at: http://sreda.org/opros/v-boga-veryat-82-rossiyan (accessed 4 March 2011).

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In contrast to other church histories since 1989, periodisation is not so easy in the case of the Serbian Orthodox Church (SOC). Did communism end with the ascent to power of Slobodan Milošević (1986), with the first free elections (1990), with the violent break-up of the Yugoslav state (1991/1992) or with the fall of Milošević (2000), who claimed to continue everything that was valuable in communism while correcting its ‘anti-Serb’ shortcomings? This question is hard to answer, but it seems clear that the history of the SOC since 1989 has followed a rhythm of its own. A first period stretches from the national mobilisation of the late 1980s until the end of the war in Bosnia-Herzegovina and Croatia in 1995; it is a period dense with national issues, and the main questions of researchers concern the role of the Church during the wars. A second period extends from the 1995 Dayton Peace Agreement until October 2000 with the ousting of Yugoslav President Slobodan Milošević. These years were marked by a growing awareness that the national aims were impossible to achieve, and a sharpened sensitivity towards Serbia’s inner problems such as a lack of democracy and strong ties between the state and organised crime. A third period began after the revolution of 5 October 2000, its basic traits being a new closeness between church and state, intense conflict between the SOC and the liberal intelligentsia which resented this new symphonia and growing rifts within the Church over issues such as Kosovo, ecumenism and the West. Serbian discourse on religion is generally very controversial since it is closely connected to other central questions that have been troubling the public since the country’s breakaway from the Ottoman Empire in the early nineteenth century: its geopolitical orientation (East or West?) and its understanding of society (open and pluralistic or closed and united?). Yugoslav communism, just as other communist regimes, had frozen discussions about the public role of the churches by pushing religion to the margins of society. In Serbia, the rule of Milošević and the wars of the 1990s have further postponed the inevitable discussion which emerged with great intensity after he was ousted from power. Just as Yugoslav communism was something unique, so was the relationship of the country’s major religious communities towards the country’s order. Even notions about what a post-communist state should look like can

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partly be explained by the peculiarities of the Yugoslav system. Briefly speaking, Yugoslavia was the only communist state that from the 1960s took a path of thorough decentralisation. While most Yugoslav republics welcomed this development, which was driven by Tito’s chief ideologue Edvard Kardelj, a Slovene, it was unpopular among many Serbs. But, until Tito’s death in 1980, there was no other way to react but to mumble about ‘injustices’ or a ‘lack of brotherhood’ allegedly suffered by the most populous nation. While secular intellectuals discussed whether it was legitimate to articulate national instead of class interests, the Serbian Orthodox Church harboured a clearly national discourse. In a Yugoslavia in which the republics could claim ever greater sovereignty, the Church feared a lack of national and ecclesiastical unity. Other communist regimes co-opted ‘their’ Orthodox churches by increasingly stressing nationalism and by admitting that Orthodoxy had been useful for preserving the nation during periods of foreign rule. Serb communists could hardly follow this path since the cohesion of the state was largely based on the equality of Yugoslavia’s nations. While laying the foundations of a new Yugoslavia during the Second World War, the communist-led partisan movement had made a promise not to fall back into the Serbian dominance of interwar Yugoslavia but to grant political equality to the minor South Slav nations. This promise looked rather theoretical in the 1950s, but since the 1960s it began to materialise. For an old-fashioned nationalist Serb institution such as the SOC, communism was thus problematic not only for its ‘godlessness’ (bezbožništvo) but also because of its stance towards nationalism. In the late 1940s, and again from the 1960s, clergy criticised Yugoslav communism for neglecting Serb interests, for denying the great merits of the Serbs in uniting the country and for granting too much power to members of ‘less reliable’ nations.1

The SOC and national mobilisation, 1982–1995 When East European communism came to an end in the late 1980s, most of the Serbian Orthodox establishment seemed to be convinced that de-communisation first of all should mean recentralising the country, assuring the sovereignty of the Republic of Serbia over its autonomous provinces Kosovo and Vojvodina and bringing the other republics under the control of the central government. All other aspects of transition were neglected in the church press, at least between the ascent of Milošević to power in 1986 and March 1991, when, for the first time, police and military force were used against a student demonstration in Belgrade. Bishop Atanasije Jevtić joined the demonstrators and conveyed through a public speech that we have heard enough lies, Mr Milošević, the Serbs don’t believe you anymore. Keep in mind that many of us fought honourably for Serb Kosovo and universal Serbdom long before you started to do so. You

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and your communists should not dare to claim a monopoly on fighting for Serbia!2 Jevtić’s claim about Orthodox ‘merits’ of the Kosovo issue were absolutely correct. Since the 1950s the Serbian clergy had witnessed the gradual withdrawal of the Serb Orthodox population from the province. Kosovo’s Bishop Pavle Stojčević, later the Patriarch, already in 1961 ascribed this process mainly to Albanian threats and political discrimination against Serbs. In 1982, half a decade before Milošević and the Serbian intellectuals discovered the Kosovo issue for their own purposes, Orthodox clergy had started to lobby and to call for a Serbian crackdown on Albanian separatists, thus preparing society for an overt return of the national paradigm.3 After Milošević took over the leadership of the League of Communists of Serbia in 1986, the SOC backed Milošević’s policies that aimed at a reserbianisation of the province. But from the beginning of the 1990s, the Church grew more and more disappointed with Milošević because he proved unwilling to accept a major role for the Church in society. Unlike post-communist politicians in the neighbouring countries, Milošević rarely tried to boost his authority by seeking the support of the Church. Rather, he mixed partisan mythology with Orthodox elements to solidify his own rule. Under Milošević, the public marginalisation of the SOC came to end, and believers were no longer discriminated against. But the Milošević regime did not feel any necessity to compensate the Church for the deprivations of communism. The SOC expected the government to return religious education to state schools, to reintegrate the Theological Faculty into the University of Belgrade, to reintroduce Orthodox chaplains into the Army and last, but not least, to restore property that between 1945 and 1948 had been nationalised. In all of these issues, significant change had to wait until the ‘Bulldozer Revolution’ of October 2000.4 The Church, however, did not consider these matters to be the most central ones. During the wars in Croatia (1991–5) and Bosnia-Herzegovina (1992–5) national unity was clearly the dominant theme of ecclesiastical discourse, and politicians were judged mainly by what they were doing in this direction. In these years the Church was the embodiment of Serb national trauma. Nationalists were convinced that separatism in Kosovo and Croatia would have the same consequences as the break-up of Yugoslavia in the Second World War, i.e. persecution or genocide of the Serbs living in the respective territories. In 1941 hundreds of Orthodox priests had been killed by Croatian fascists, and Orthodox clergy felt an obligation to prevent a repetition of the catastrophe. While this seems psychologically understandable, it is obvious that Serbian nationalism was polluted by historical half-truths. In church publications just as in the utterances of secular nationalists, the number of Serb victims of the Second World War was regularly exaggerated, while the Serb share in war atrocities, especially those committed in Bosnia and Croatia by Četnik paramilitaries, were played down or even glorified as patriotism. The SOC was no exception here, and in the 1980s and 1990s a considerable

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number of clergy played a leading role in the nationalist movement. Against the background of a manipulated history where Serbs allegedly had always been victims, Serb nationalists felt justified in attacking Croats and Bosnian Muslims just in order to ‘prevent premeditated plans’ allegedly aimed at completing the Second World War genocide of the Serbs. In this movement, several bishops played a key role, such as Atanasije Jevtić of Zahumlje-Herzegovina and Amfilohije Radović of Montenegro and the Littoral. For these church leaders, the problem with Yugoslavia was not only what they labelled genocidal tendencies among other Yugoslav peoples. Their view of Yugoslavia was firmly framed in an anti-Western perception of the world, where the West was blamed for all the evils of modernity such as secularism, individualism, materialism and communism. Fully in the tradition of interwar Serbian theologians such as Nikolaj Velimirović (1881–1956) and Justin Popović (1894– 1979), they ascribed to Western culture an eternal striving to put sinful man in God’s place and to dominate and exploit others, i.e. non-Westerners. In this perspective the Yugoslav crisis gained cosmic significance, the Serb’s local enemies such as Croats, Bosnians and Albanians turned into fellow-travellers of the West, which was allegedly on its way to replace all local cultures by a unified, materialist and anti-religious civilisation.5 The Serbian Orthodox émigré philosopher Marko S. Marković stated in 1994 that the West was about to fulfil its old dream and to destroy Orthodox Russia. To be able to do so, it would first have to smash Orthodoxy’s safeguard on the borderlands to the West, i.e. Serbia. Defending the Serbian cause, according to Marković, meant nothing less than defending the world against the rule of Evil. Within Serbia, views as these were accepted by a significant audience, including not only Orthodox youth organisations such as Obraz (Face/Honour, founded in 1994) but also leftist and atheist forces such as the JUL (Jugoslovenska levica, Yugoslav Left) Party, lead by Slobodan Milošević’s wife Mira Marković. In this ideologised climate, questions about one’s own responsibility for the wars necessarily seemed superfluous, if not blasphemous.6 Others, such as the Serbian Orthodox Patriarch Pavle Stojčević, who headed the Church from 1990 to his death in 2009, were more moderate and refrained from engaging in hate speech. But even Patriarch Pavle was initially convinced that a sovereign Croatia would automatically endanger the Serbs living there, since genocide would be the inevitable consequence. In a letter to Lord (Peter) Carrington, then acting as a negotiator for the European Community, Patriarch Pavle wrote in 1990: For the second time this century, the Serbian people are confronted by genocide and expulsion from those territories where it has been living for centuries. … Our compatriots of the same faith and blood have only one fatal choice: either to fight for their lives with a weapon in their hand or to be forced to leave this new Independent State of Croatia sooner or later. There is no third alternative. The Serbian state thus must defend them by all legitimate means, including armed self-defence of

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Serbian lives and of all Serbian borderlands. Those territories where the Serbian people has been living for centuries and where it has had an ethnic majority before the genocide of the Croatian quisling powers in April 1941, cannot remain within any kind of independent Croatia but must find themselves within one state with today’s Serbia and all other Serbian borderlands.7 Patriarch Pavle, while known as an ascetic and mild person, judged the situation at the beginning of the wars within the framework of Serb traumatic nationalism. The same can be said about other moderate hierarchs such as Jovan Pavlović of Zagreb, who later changed his mind. In 1995, Jovan accused the secular intellectuals of the Serbian Academy of Science and Art (SANU) of drawing the Church into the wars.8 During his reign, Patriarch Pavle proved unwilling to execute strong leadership and left the individual bishops with considerable freedom. The radicals were thus free to conduct political propaganda, while the moderates were more willing to accommodate themselves to circumstances but ultimately shared some aspects of the nationalist worldview. During and after the war in Bosnia-Herzegovina, the SOC showed great sympathy for Bosnian Serb leader Radovan Karadžić. When compared to the former communist functionary Milošević, the psychiatrist and poet seemed to be more sincere and ‘classical’ in his nationalism. Within the ethnically cleansed territories of the Republika Srpska, Karadžić not only ‘defended Serbdom’ but also cooperated closely with the Church, allowing it to institute its cultural and symbolic hegemony over the Serb-held parts of Bosnia.9 The Bosnian Serb leadership invited the SOC to play a central role in public life, quickly established religious instruction in schools and in the Bosnian Serb Army and helped the Church to create its structures in newly conquered regions. It also proved willing to restore property confiscated by communist Yugoslavia. In some cases, it even granted the Church the property of expelled Muslims. Thus Vasilije Kačavenda, Bishop of Zvornik-Tuzla, could construct an ostentatious residence with a monastery and a large garden in the Eastern Bosnian town of Bijeljina, which had previously been cleansed of its Muslim majority by the paramilitaries of Željko ‘Arkan’ Ražnjatović and others. To gain space for the project, Bishop Vasilije had ten abandoned Muslim houses torn down. Ten years later, in 2005, a court ruled that the legitimate owners of the real estate were entitled to receive compensation of 2 million Convertible Marks (about €1 million) plus interest.10 In the Serbian press, it has become common to speculate about ‘wings’ and ‘factions’ among the Serbian Orthodox bishops. While it has not always been clear along which lines the episcopate can be divided, disunity has been a characteristic of the church leadership during the last two decades. Generally speaking, theologians differ from one another theologically (the main poles being ecumenists and fundamentalists) and politically, where they display a softer or tougher nationalist profile. It is important to stress that there is no

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automatic connection between radical nationalist and Orthodox fundamentalist views, since some conservative theologians such as the already mentioned Father Justin Popović considered the nation to be less important than the transnational community of believers. But in practice theological and political views are often interwoven, uniting the proponents of open modes of thinking on the one hand and the supporters of closed, severe, homogeneous models on the other. An obvious example of disunity occurred during the wars of the 1990s. At first no bishop dared to express the view that there might be legitimate political interests based on regional issues and not on national ones. But this view changed when it became obvious that it would not be easy to achieve a greater Serbia. In 1993, the Holy Synod11 still supported Radovan Karadžić against Slobodan Milošević when the latter pressed the Bosnian Serbs to stop fighting and sign the Vance–Owen peace plan. In August 1995, when it had become obvious that the United States would not allow further Serb conquests in Bosnia, the bishops in Serbia changed their minds – they turned their back on the Bosnian Serb leadership which insisted on continuing the war, and legitimised Milošević to sign the Dayton Peace Agreement on behalf of the Serbs. Tired of the economic crisis and the heavy sanctions imposed on Serbia, they thus hoped to ease the situation, even if this meant giving up the idea of including the Bosnian Serbs in Serbia. When Patriarch Pavle signed the document which empowered Milošević to negotiate in Dayton, Ohio, the bishops of Bosnia and some outside the region were outraged. They argued that the patriarch should resign, since he had placed the fate of the Bosnian Serbs into the hands of the ‘godless ruler’ Milošević who had allegedly betrayed the Serbian cause. In the end, a compromise was found: Pavle stayed in office, but his signature on the August agreement was declared invalid, since it had ostensibly been misused by Milošević. Though this was not enough to cancel the Dayton Peace Agreement, it had nevertheless become clear that a significant part of the Serb Orthodox leadership did not consider this peace a just one.12

Between Milošević and the opposition, 1995–2000 By late 1995, the wars in Croatia and Bosnia-Herzegovina had ended, but the atmosphere was far from favourable for coming to terms with the past. National discourse centred on the question of who was to blame for the lost wars, and only a minority doubted that the Serbs had fought for a just cause. While this was true not only for the broad public but also for the SOC, elements of change nevertheless appeared quickly. Just as with the political opposition, many in the Church had the impression that Milošević had never been interested in solving Serbia’s national questions but rather had been using the issue in order to present himself as the only possible saviour, while simultaneously letting a vast network of minions exhaust the country by corruption, smuggling and theft of state property. When in late 1996 Milošević

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revoked the results of the council elections because they were not favourable to him, Patriarch Pavle openly sided with the opposition.13 What led the SOC even further away from the regime was the unresolved Kosovo issue. Among Kosovo Albanian youth, many were no longer willing to continue Ibrahim Rugova’s course of peaceful struggle for independence but were longing for force. The Kosovo Liberation Army (KLA) started terror attacks against Serb police and civilians as well as Albanian ‘traitors’ in 1996, and in November 1997 KLA fighters made their first public appearance. Unlike the cases of Croatian or Bosnian separatism in the early 1990s, this time the SOC refrained from crying to Milošević for help but tried to steer an autonomous course. This is especially true for the (now former) Bishop of Raška-Prizren, Artemije Radosavljević, whose diocese largely coincides with the province of Kosovo. Bishop Artemije is a complex and important figure, and will be mentioned more than once in this chapter. Artemije was consecrated a monk by Archimandrite Justin Popović in 1960, was a teacher in Orthodox seminaries under communism and in the late 1970s became head of the Crna Reka Monastery in the historical province of Sandžak, bordering Kosovo. Artemije managed to build up a growing community of committed monks, many of whom possessed a higher education. This phenomenon was unique for Orthodoxy in communist Yugoslavia, such was the charisma of Artemije. Just like his mentor Justin Popović, Artemije was (and still is) strongly opposed to ecumenism, which he viewed as a danger to the purity of the Orthodox faith; many of Artemije’s disciples follow the same spirit. When national turmoil evolved around Kosovo in the 1980s, they went to revive medieval monasteries in the province, being well aware that this was both a spiritual and a national deed. While ordinary Serbs did not stop fleeing Kosovo even under Milošević, the SOC enhanced its presence, thus giving an ever stronger Orthodox flavour to Kosovo’s Serb community.14 In 1997 many observers were surprised by Artemije’s ability to detach himself from Milošević and to embrace democratic principles. His inflexible theological views notwithstanding, he understood that the future of Kosovo could hardly be predominantly Serb and Orthodox but must be democratic and multicultural. In speeches to international audiences and to the domestic opposition in Serbia, he warned that the brutality of the Milošević police against Albanians would destroy any prospects of Serb–Albanian coexistence, and that only a democratic Serbia would be able to contain Albanian separatism, since democracy would end manipulation and injustice.15 From today’s perspective we know that Artemije has not followed this line but has expanded his theological anti-Westernism to embrace political anti-Westernism as well. While this change of mind is clearly connected to frustrations with the rather pro-Albanian stance of the West since the NATO bombings of 1999, the example of Kosovo also shows that many Serbian bishops embarked on post-socialism without a clearly fixed set of political convictions. Rather, they went through various phases of development, as did other post-socialist

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individuals. During his ‘democratic’ phase Artemije was influenced by two of his younger disciples, his then secretary Sava Janjić in Kosovo and Abbot Teodosije Šibalić, who have remained open to dialogue with the international community.16 Between 1997 and 2000, Artemije turned into an important figure of the anti-Milošević opposition. In these years, when the end of the dictatorship was a central issue in Serbian discourse, the enormous differences between figures like Artemije and the secular liberals did not mean much. While some bishops such as Metropolitan Jovan Pavlović of Zagreb or Bishop Irinej Bulović of Novi Sad continued to support Milošević, it was obvious that a majority of bishops including Patriarch Pavle could not decide whether to back Milošević or the opposition. But sympathies towards Artemije’s position spread steadily. The magical concept of democratisation, it seemed, might solve many of Serbia’s problems at once – international isolation, Albanian separatism and domestic misrule.17

The SOC in post-Milošević Serbia, 2000–2011 Large parts of the SOC thus experienced the overthrow of Slobodan Milošević on 5 October 2000 with relief and happiness. When it became clear that Milošević would not attempt a counter-insurgency, Patriarch Pavle celebrated a divine service with about 150,000 participants for the ‘Healing and Reconciliation of the Serbian People’ in front of St Sava Cathedral in Belgrade. The revolution marked a new era for the SOC both externally and internally. It was a new era externally, because the Western diplomats now flowing into Serbia were looking for trustworthy and prestigious representatives of the ‘better Serbia’ to talk to. In this situation the modest and peaceful figure of Patriarch Pavle looked like a necessary partner. When Romano Prodi came to Serbia as President of the European Commission on 11 October 2000, he thanked ‘His Holiness Patriarch Pavle and the Orthodox Church led by him for their moral and civil authority in these difficult years, for their constant condemnation of tyranny and their incessant demand to return freedom’.18 Ever since then, the SOC has been an important actor in the eyes of the West. The SOC is in most cases treated delicately, as a key to the heart of a people whose relationship towards Europe remains difficult. While this approach seems politically feasible, it has nevertheless allowed the Church to brush aside Western questions about its own participation in the nationalist mobilisation of the 1990s. Internally, the post-2000 situation turned even more complex than it had been before. It became clear that within Serbian society there were a number of different prospects for a democratic Serbia. Differentiation soon emerged among politically active youths. Young people, who had been demonstrating together against Milošević, divided into those who decided to engage in the flourishing liberal-minded NGO sector, while others joined Orthodox youth

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organisations such as Obraz (‘Honour’) or Dveri Srpske (‘Serb Gates’). These organisations were rooted in the 1990s but after 2000 Dveri Srpske in particular grew more rapidly. The Orthodox youth organisations lack the ‘missionary innocence’ of other contemporary religious youth movements and stress the notion of a nation tied together by common resentments against outsiders. As the core source they chose Serbian Orthodoxy, which they perceived as a clear instruction of how to identify enemies – Catholics, Muslims, the West, Jews, liberals, communists and so on. In the scriptures of interwar Orthodox authors such as Nikolaj Velimirović and others they found the necessary elements which they assembled into a new anti-globalist ideology. Though the Orthodox youth organisations were never really officially integrated into the structures of the SOC, they could count on the support of likeminded bishops, priests, monks and nuns, who appeared at their gatherings to lend them ‘divine authority’.19 The SOC, while keeping its rhetoric of being the ‘mother of the nation’ above all political parties, soon started to voice its own interests, which it had been harbouring since the late 1980s – namely, to become a central institution in Serbian society, to be respected by all Serbs, to be hailed for its role in history and to be saved from perceived evils such as sects and secularist critics. Within the Democratic Opposition of Serbia alliance, both secular(ist) liberals and Orthodox nationalists were represented, the best-known representatives being Zoran Đinđić for the former and Vojislav Koštunica for the latter poles. The leader of the Democratic Party, Zoran Đinđić, who became the first Prime Minister of Serbia after the revolution in 2000, proved willing to meet some of the SOC’s central demands and introduced religious instruction in schools in 2001, most probably a concession made to appease the nationalists, who were outraged by Milošević’s extradition to the International Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia (ICTY).20 But the sympathies of many clergy lay with Vojislav Koštunica and his Democratic Party of Serbia. Koštunica, a lawyer who served as President of Yugoslavia between 2000 and 2003 and as Prime Minister of Serbia between 2004 and 2008, was an exponent of a religiously loaded nationalism which asserts that a morally purified Serbian nation would ultimately be successful in its national claims, too. Another aspect of Koštunica’s political profile was a strong insistence on legal procedures. This tendency was visible in his works on the Kosovo question, in which he claimed that ‘no international convention on national minorities includes the right to territorial autonomy’;21 or in a new Constitution of Serbia passed in 2006, the preamble to which stated that Kosovo-Metohija was an inalienable part of the country, which meant that any future Serbian government willing to negotiate the independence of Kosovo could be accused of violating the Constitution.22 The reintegration of the SOC into Serbian society was strongly driven by public figures such as Koštunica and likeminded intellectuals and politicians.23 What they had in common was a highly cultured tone, keen to make an impression on domestic and international audiences, and a language void of

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the brutal expressions so characteristic of the national rhetoric of Miloševićera figures such as Vojislav Šešelj. At the same time, they pursued the basics of Serbian nationalism. Eager to display historical erudition, they regularly forgot the histories of those who suffered in the past not as Serbs but from Serbs. They understood Serbia as part of Europe but stressed that they mean a ‘Christian Europe’ which they expect to foster conservative national identities against US-driven soulless globalisation. While displaying the habitus of an intellectual vanguard, they frequently hailed Serb and other interwar rightist thinkers deeply suspicious of modernity, thus striking a note alien to the pro-Western foundations of the European Union.24 In the SOC the new religious intellectuals were perceived as a blessing. Between the late nineteenth century and 1941 the SOC had been bemoaning the fact that, with the beginning of the country’s Westernisation, the elite had become alienated from Orthodox traditions. While the Church was trying to catch up with modernity at least in terms of its organisation, monks and bishops were longing for ‘Orthodox intellectuals’ that had yet to be formed – i.e. educated people able to participate in the most advanced circles of society, but who would not ‘betray’ either the Orthodox faith or the heroic national traditions alive among the simple folk. Some success in this direction had been achieved during the 1930s, but the Second World War and subsequent communist rule had spoiled it all. After another period of disappointment – Milošević’s ‘false’ nationalism – one felt finally entitled to have a partner who was ready to help the Church even without being asked. What might seem to the Westerner an unhappy mixture of cosmopolitan intellectual pretension and nationalism was in fact no problem for the SOC, whose elite highly valued this combination. The best example of this mixture of charismatic intellectual grandeur and polyglotism on the one hand and nationalist provinciality is Nikolaj Velimirović (1881–1956), an interwar bishop canonised in 2003.25 The close relationship between the new pro-Orthodox elite and the SOC has been interpreted in different ways. Characteristically, it aroused much more concern in Serbian liberal and NGO circles, who had been complaining about a ‘clericalisation’ and even the danger of ‘clero-fascism’ in postMilošević Serbia. On a European level, the situation looked quite different. Serbian politicians as well as church leaders developed a network of contacts, especially in Germany and Austria, e.g., with Christian democratic foundations and members of parliament, and with the Catholic Church.26 These partners supported the SOC and perceived its longing for a central public role as legitimate and as something compatible with the cooperation of church and state established in their countries. The liberal opponents within Serbia, on the other hand, stressed that Europeanisation presupposes a separation of church and state and clearly perceived the French laicist model as the blueprint of Europeanness. Neither side is completely wrong. The SOC, while expecting compensation for the losses it suffered from communism, seems to have understood

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during the late 1990s that it needed partners if it wanted to achieve its goals, and that partnerships require willingness to compromise. It is obvious that all historical mistrust against Westerners and members of other faiths notwithstanding, the SOC has created pragmatic partnerships both within and outside Serbia. In May 2001 the Holy Synod demanded that alongside the SOC, the other ‘traditional’ religious communities should also be entitled to religious instruction at state schools. After years of tense inter-church relations, Belgrade’s Catholic Archbishop Stanislav Hočevar stated shortly thereafter that the cooperation of Catholics, Orthodox, Protestants, Muslims and Jews in Serbia was good.27 As with other Orthodox churches in post-socialism, the SOC takes a critical stance towards religious pluralism on what it considers its own ‘canonical territory’. In particular, it differentiates between non-Orthodox communities with a long tradition in Serbia (namely those which can prove their presence in the period from 1836 to 1930) and newer communities actively engaged in missions among Serbs. The difference between ‘traditional’ and ‘non-traditional’ faiths has become central to religious legislation in the post-Milošević period. Religious instruction was granted to the SOC, the Catholic Church, to three older Protestant communities traditionally established among the Slovaks and Hungarians in Vojvodina (the Slovak Evangelical Church, the Reformed Christian Church, the Evangelical Christian Church), to the Islamic and the Jewish religious communities. In the ‘Law on Churches and Religious Communities’ passed in 2006, the same categorisation was used. While the ‘traditional’ communities were spared registration, the others were called ‘confessional communities’. In this group we find among others Baptists, Adventists and Methodists, which had been denied registration by the interwar Yugoslav monarchy. Between 2007 and 2011, seventeen confessional communities successfully passed registration, which meant that they were regarded as a corporate body and may function legally, though not on an equal footing with the ‘traditional’ religious communities.28 The most difficult part of de-communisation has been, in all former Yugoslav republics, the return of nationalised church property. The communist regime did not consider the possibility that nationalised lands and real estates would have to be returned one day. Instead it built houses on territories it had seized from religious communities, tore down buildings, used them for new purposes and built new ones. While practical reasons often inhibit the return of nationalised objects, monetary compensation is an expensive alternative which most post-Yugoslav states can hardly afford.29 On 1 October 2006 Serbia put into force a ‘Law on the Restitution of Property to Churches and Religious Communities’. It prescribed an equal treatment of all religious communities and a priority of return (with material or financial compensation only as a second alternative), but church representatives complained that it was rarely applied and that only a small part of the nationalised properties were returned. Meanwhile, politicians stressed that complete compensation would lead to a breakdown of the state budget.30

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These problems notwithstanding it can be argued that in the post-Milošević period, most of the SOC’s desires concerning its public role were fulfilled. When the Serbian government founded a radio control agency in 2003, the SOC executed considerable influence on the composition of its council, thus provoking protest from liberal media representatives such as Veran Matić, President of the Association of Independent Electronic Media (ANEM).31 Since then, the SOC has represented the religious communities in that body. Another field of church–state cooperation has been the Army, which retained some of its communist-secularist character under Milošević. The rapprochement between church and state was crowned on 28 June 2011 (the national holiday of Vidovdan or St Vitus Day, which commemorates the battle of Kosovo against Ottoman invaders in 1389) by an agreement which regulates the work of Orthodox military chaplains.32 It is noteworthy that diverse political changes in post-Milošević Serbia have influenced the relationship between church and state only to a minor degree. Even Zoran Đinđić, the most charismatic personality among the secular liberals until his assassination in 2003, was aware that he needed to cooperate with the SOC in order to achieve political stability. The same is true for President Boris Tadić, who has been leading Serbia since 2004 and has become the weightiest figure in Serbian political life. When the overtly pro-Orthodox Prime Minister Vojislav Koštunica resigned from office in 2008,33 the liberals came to dominate the political field. This has resulted in some changes, for example the state’s influence on the staffing policy of the SOC. While Koštunica maintained good ties with conservative and nationalist hierarchs, the successor government of Prime Minister Mirko Cvetković which came into power in July 2008 prefers open-minded personalities. This tendency is also perceptible in the Church’s Kosovo policies. After the Albanian riots of March 2004, Bishop Artemije Radosavljević changed his hitherto open-minded course. According to church data, the events left 19 Serbs killed, 950 wounded, more than 4,000 displaced and 35 churches destroyed.34 Artemije, who had previously been a key spokesperson in talks between the Kosovo Serbs and the international institutions, reduced contact with Kosovo Force (KFOR) and Western representatives to a minimum and refused any communication with Albanian structures. Instead, he looked for support among Belgrade’s nationalists, in Russia and the United States, where he travelled warning that an Albanian Kosovo would be a centre of crime and Islamist terrorism. Both President Tadić and a majority of bishops were realistic enough to see that Artemije’s efforts would have a negative impact. Consequently, in 2005 the Serbian Bishops’ Assembly transferred considerable competences concerning the public relations of the church in Kosovo to the abbot of Dečani monastery, Bishop Teodosije Šibalić. When Artemije sued the NATO member states in whose zones the pogroms had happened at the European Court of Human Rights in Strasburg, the Synod in Belgrade found this too radical and withdrew support for him.35 Bishop Artemije’s ecclesiastical rule over Kosovo ended in February 2010, when the Holy Synod

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deprived him of his diocese on account of financial abuse by his secretary Simeon Vilovski and building contractor Predrag Subotički. Both men had misused humanitarian aid, state subsidies and donations for personal enrichment and political lobbying in the United States. Serious voices in the press stressed that the bishop’s removal had little to do with the affair but was motivated politically, since the intransigent Artemije had been too great a nuisance to both President Tadić and, finally, the West.36

A new Patriarch It is not clear to what extent the election of Patriarch Irinej Gavrilović can also be linked to a moderating state influence. When Patriarch Pavle died on 15 November 2009 in Belgrade at the age of ninety-five, he had been ill and unable to perform his office for at least two years. In October 2008 Pavle offered his resignation to the Holy Synod. The Synod declined, most probably because the factions between the bishops were deep and elections could have revealed this, thus damaging the Church’s reputation as an institution which is above the everyday quarrels of secular politics. Two bishops, Metropolitan Amfilohije Radović and Bishop Vasilije Kačavenda, the unofficial leader of the nationalist ‘Bosnian lobby’, were even accused in the Serbian weekly Standard of deliberately leaving the dying Patriarch Pavle in office to gain time to improve their own chances of succeeding him.37 By then, the bishops were deeply divided not only along theological and political, but also generational lines. The younger bishops who had studied theology after the break-up of Yugoslavia are generally seen as a rather open-minded element. Their most prominent figure is probably Grigorije Durić of Zahum-Herzegovina (b. 1967), who in April 2005 aroused the anger of Serbian nationalists when he publicly called on former Bosnian Serb leader Radovan Karadžić to surrender to the ICTY. More willing to acknowledge Serbian war crimes than some older bishops who had actively supported the Serbian nationalist cause in the 1990s, Grigorije was considered a favourite of Serbia’s President Tadić to succeed Patriarch Pavle.38 However, state support can harm a bishop’s reputation within the SOC. Western stereotypes about the docility of Orthodoxy towards secular power notwithstanding, since the late nineteenth century, the Serb hierarchy does have a tradition of struggling against political interference. The communists heavily influenced the patriarchal elections of 1950 and 1958, a fact that only intensified old fears among the bishops. In 1967, the Church reacted to the frustrations inflicted by the government and redesigned the electoral procedure. While the influence of laypeople in the electoral assembly was drastically reduced, the final choice was left to ‘divine chance’ in that a new paragraph in the church constitution directed that three candidates were to be elected by a two-thirds majority, from which the future patriarch was to be chosen by lot. This procedure was practised for the first time in 1990 during the election of Patriarch Pavle. During Pavle’s reign there were occasional comments that

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the lot system should be abolished, since it had not facilitated the election of a strong church leader and left the leadership of one of the most central Serbian institutions to chance.39 However, the rules remained and were applied once again in the election of Irinej Gavrilović in January 2010. For more than a year prior to the election, the press was full of speculations. Bishop Grigorije did not have a great chance of succeeding since observers considered him not only too young but also too compromised by the preferential treatment he received from Milorad Dodig, the Prime Minister of Bosnia’s Serb entity Republika Srpska, and Serbia’s President Boris Tadić.40 The favourites most frequently mentioned were Metropolitan Amfilohije Radović, who was presented as some kind of compromise between the nationalists and the more accommodating bishops, and Vasilije Kačavenda, the unofficial leader of the powerful ‘Bosnian lobby’ and representative of an intransigent nationalism. In the end the electoral assembly displayed a different mood. Vasilije Kačavenda had not run for office, and out of the three personalities elected, only one was strongly connected with the nationalist past – Metropolitan Amfilohije. While only Amfilohije Radović and Irinej Bulović could be considered truly public personalities, the lot fell upon Irinej Gavrilović, the eldest of the three (b. 1930) and hitherto less known to the wider public.41 During his first months in office, Patriarch Irinej proved astonishingly active. Concerning basic national and ecclesiastical questions such as the independence of Kosovo or the autocephaly of the Macedonian Orthodox Church he has been in the conservative mainstream but displays diplomatic manners. Towards the Catholic Church he has shown considerable openness. For example, Irinej argued before and after his election that it would be a good idea to invite the Pope to the southern Serbian city of Niš in 2013. In that year, worldwide Christianity celebrates the 1,700th anniversary of the Edict of Milan, by which the Roman emperors Constantine I and Licinius proclaimed the principle of religious toleration. The Tadić/Cvetković administration would like to stress that Serbia belongs to that tradition, and since Constantine I was born in Naissus (today’s Niš), they decided to support an international celebration there. Until mid-2011, the idea to invite the Pope on that occasion was promoted by President Tadić and Patriarch Irinej, but considerable opposition within the Church and among some believers ended this endeavour. Many clergy continue to think that an apology from the Vatican for the horrors of the Ustaša regime during the Second World War should be a prerequisite for any pope who wishes to visit Serbia. Others, who are more willing to forget history, nevertheless look for approval in the rest of the Orthodox world, especially from the Russian Orthodox Church, from which they receive rather negative signals. Last but not least, many bishops fear that fundamentalist groups might initiate violent protests and label all those ready to invite the Pope as traitors.42 Initially there was relief in the Serbian public that Patriarch Irinej, in contrast to his predecessor Pavle, seemed to lead the Church much more actively.

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This mood came to the surface in 2010 when Bishop Artemije Radosavljević was removed from his diocese. Since Artemije proved unwilling to accept this decision, the Bishops’ Assembly demoted him to the rank of simple monk. This was the first time such an event had taken place since the 1960s, when the Church was forced to send a bishop to the United States and Canada, Dionisije Milivojević, under communist pressure. The proceedings against Artemije, whether justified or not, were a strong signal that arbitrary behaviour by individual bishops would no longer be tolerated, and observers expected that other hierarchs would be punished too. But in October 2011 the weekly journal NIN stated disappointedly that the cleansing of the Church had been stopped and that bishops worse than Artemije were not being called to account for their misdeeds.43

Crime and scandals Most observers of the SOC during the post-socialist period have focused closely on national problems, war, reconciliation and ecumenism. While these matters are undoubtedly important, the encounter with the ‘other’ is not the only issue. Especially in Serbia proper, where the population is (at least in name) rather homogeneously Serb Orthodox, it is neither other nations nor other religions or cultures that matter, but relationships between Serbs themselves. Besides the rift between ‘Westerners’ and ‘Easterners’, between the adherents of liberalism and Orthodox integralism, there is a considerable social divide between a minority that has become wealthier during the years of wars and transition, and a majority that even today has hardly caught up with the standard of living it enjoyed in the later days of socialist Yugoslavia. Ideally it would be a church’s task to help people overcome injustice and frustration, but the SOC seems unable to satisfy such expectations. With its strong tradition of nationalism, its care for the worldly aspects of life has often been limited to national aspects while ignoring the other needs of the population. This weakness is aggravated by the fact that parts of the clergy have profited from the new possibilities for personal enrichment offered by post-socialism. Under Patriarch Irinej, there are certain signs that the Church is trying to curb some of the major malpractices, but generally a state of chaos prevails which offers great possibilities for personal gain and various abuses. Since many defenders of the SOC perceive any attack on the Church’s practices as directed against the very identity and existence of the Serbian people, it is very difficult to establish legal control on church finances. In Serbia, there is no church tax, and the clergy receives no salary from the state. Instead, the Church finances itself by what it owns through religious services such as baptisms, weddings, funerals or intercessions, for which the believers pay individually. The SOC also receives donations from believers and subsidies from the state and has some income from its property. The recognition of the Church’s prominent role in Serbian history becomes visible in considerable freedoms. Unlike in the communist state or even the interwar

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Kingdom of Yugoslavia, the government possesses very little information about the financial situation of the religious communities, which are not taxed. The budgets of the patriarchate and of the bishoprics are treated as confidential, with only details on state funding being published. The Church frequently stresses that Orthodoxy ascribes little importance to money, and it seems that this Christian ‘ignorance’ has added to the general unwillingness to regulate the financial aspects of religious activity.44 There is ample evidence that donations have enabled the SOC to build or reconstruct about 500 church buildings, i.e. one sixth of the Church’s overall property has been built or renovated since the late 1980s.45 The Church is usually unwilling to talk about its donors but stresses that it is the ordinary people who show their attachment to their faith in this way. However, it seems clear that many Serbian businessmen and politicians donate considerable sums to bishoprics, church communities and monasteries. Sometimes bishops respond by decorating the donor with medals, a practice that has included businessmen with an evil reputation, or politicians known for misusing clientelist networks. Some regions, for example the southern bishoprics of Vranje or Mileševo, are full of churches where it is unclear whether they were built with ‘clean’ or ‘dirty’ money and what the respective clergyman gave in return. Some observers have commented that church construction, while being a matter of prestige for the bishops, should not be a top priority. Rather, the SOC should concentrate on social work and the wellbeing of its believers.46 Another contentious issue is the standard of living of the clergy. Several bishops have been accused in the media of an obsession with luxurious residences, and most observers agree that the lower clergy is significantly better off than the majority of their community. While it is evident that generalisations about the wealth of the Serbian Orthodox clergy are inappropriate, the tendency in the Church’s discourse is that after the deprivations of communism and war, the Church and its servants are entitled to some kind of wellbeing. The late Patriarch Pavle was very unhappy about this development. Observing that several hierarchs arriving at the Bishops’ Assembly in expensive cars, he purportedly asked: ‘And what vehicles would they drive if they hadn’t taken monastic vows?’47 Another problem is monastic paedophilia, a phenomenon which Serbian nationalists see as something typical for the Catholic but not for the SOC. In a traditionally homophobic society, any talk about gay identity is difficult, and many people react with instinctive disgust to any mention of this. They do not seem to differentiate much between a homosexual orientation as such and paedophile sexual abuses but react to both with pathologising and violent comments. When the SOC is in question, Serbian nationalists perceive allusions to this matter as the bad intent of outsiders whose only wish is to weaken the SOC. Under such circumstances it would be illusionary to expect an ongoing constructive discourse on clerical homophilia such as takes place in some Western societies, where the Catholic Church is in question. Rather,

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Serbian discourse is a mixture of outbursts, conspiracy theories, downplaying and lethargy. A good example of this is the affair of Bishop Pahomije Gačić, who resides in the southeastern Serbian town of Vranje. It began in January 2003 when a local court started litigation against the bishop, who was accused of sexual abuse by five of his former altar boys. While the youngsters were supported by several priests and nuns of the diocese, the bishop depicted himself as a victim of a conspiracy between Albanian separatists and the United States trying to weaken the Serbian factor in the region.48 The Holy Synod temporarily suspended Pahomije from office and sent Bishop Ignjatije Midić as an administrator, but showed no interest in investigating the matter itself. Instead, Bishop Ignjatije told the clergy of Vranje that a battle against the Church was at work, while not even considering whether the five boys might be right.49 In the following years, Pahomije avoided court summons by claiming that his health was bad, and the Supreme Court helped to delay the affair by handing it from one court to another. In 2007, the case was closed for lack of evidence; the Supreme Court stated that two out of four criminal offences were time-barred and that there had been shortcomings in the court procedure. In the meantime, the boys’ families and other supporters of the victims had been harassed by death threats, and sympathising clergy had been forced to leave Pahomije’s diocese.50 But this ‘victory’ did not convince all. Bishop Grigorije complained to his fellow bishops in a letter that the SOC was obviously lacking force and will for catharsis and that the Church had evaded its obligation to investigate the case itself.51 The religious analyst Mirko Đorđević stressed that the affair had shown how far the SOC was behind the Catholic Church in admitting guilt: ‘We must admit that our Roman Catholic brothers face negative facts which destroy the Church in a more open and courageous manner.’52 Things became even more problematic in the case of Bishop Vasilije Kačavenda. Bishop Kačavenda has a longstanding reputation as a practising homosexual or bisexual, and published documents show that since 1960 he was a collaborator with the communist secret service. Some sources suggest that both phenomena were interconnected and that he was forced to collaborate because the service possessed compromising material about his private life.53 In 1970, the service characterised Kačavenda, then still a simple Bosnian monk, as a ‘reliable’ source of information, but later he turned nationalist so that in 1988 another Orthodox priest was hired with the special task of observing Kačavenda.54 While this profile deeply contradicts the SOC’s social agenda, Kačavenda occupies a central position in the nationalist network and cannot easily be marginalised. Informed sources note that many consider Kačavenda very critically but are afraid of revenge, which might take violent forms. This explains why the official Church has never shown any inclination to inquire the charges against him, which range from recent contact with a Novi Sad stripper55 to the story of Milić Blažanović, a student of theology who resisted Vasilije’s sexual attacks and was allegedly killed in 1999 after he

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started to talk to others about his experiences.56 The only exception among bishops is Grigorije Durić, who is said to be protected by Republika Srpska’s Prime Minister Milorad Dodig. According to the daily Borba, Grigorije confronted Vasilije with the case of Blažanović at the Bishops’ Assembly in autumn 2008, with the result that Vasilije broke down and had to be taken to hospital.57 Vasilije remains a member of the Bishops’ Assembly. Bishop Grigorije is also known for his suggestion of starting a lustration process within the Church in order to establish which clergy collaborated with the communist secret service.58

Religious belief and church attendance Serbian Orthodox religiosity has long displayed a typical Balkan profile, i.e. during much of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries the SOC has been important mainly as a pillar of national identity rather than solely as a religious factor. Serbian priests were already known for a rather secular morale prior to the First World War, and it seems that this profile has never really changed. Serb believers have often been described as weak churchgoers with a rather pragmatic and ‘everyday’ relationship to God.59 They have high regard for their Church and are ready to defend it against outsiders, but respect for the clergy and for dogmatic ‘truths’ have been rather modest. There have been exceptions to this rule, such as the remarkable Orthodox movement among educated people in the 1930s or the development of monasticism since the 1980s. In Titoist times sociologists observed a dramatic decline of both religious identification and religious practice, so that by the early 1980s Orthodox religiosity was a phenomenon basically limited to older villagers, especially women. During the 1990s this situation changed thoroughly in all Serb-inhabited regions of (former) Yugoslavia, with about 80–90 per cent expressing a Serbian Orthodox self-identification and about 60 per cent declaring themselves as believers. Orthodoxy re-entered the cities, returned into intellectual circles and youth culture. A peak of that development was reached in 2002/2003. The Serbian sociologist of religion Mirko Blagojević then stated that while the growth of religiosity was at first sight impressive, the revival of Orthodoxy remained selective, i.e. that a majority of the population attended mass only on major holidays, and that belief in religious dogma was, at best, partial.60 Recently, religiosity has been showing signs of decline, and the large church-building programmes often look superfluous in light of poorly attended Sunday masses. Apparently the SOC has not managed to bond with the majority of undetermined personalities, who react with great sensitivity to public discourse, and who revoke their option for religion when they feel that the Church does not give them what they have been looking for.61 Undoubtedly, some problems have left traces in everyday church life – such as the obvious inability of a divided church leadership to give orientation, the material hunger of the clergy and various scandals which the Church does not even try to confront.

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The other post-Yugoslav republics Nationalism remains a driving force not only because of Serbian Orthodox traditions; it is also continuously fuelled by developments outside of Serbia proper. Serbian nationalism restarted its public life in the 1980s by stressing that communist Yugoslavia had betrayed its allegedly most loyal supporters, i.e. the Serbs, by dividing them along the ‘artificial’ borders of the federal units, leaving millions of Serbs at the mercy of ever more anti-Serb leaderships in these units. While in the case of Croatia this question was virtually ‘solved’ in 1995 when the Serb minority was driven out of the country, the situation in other regions of former Yugoslavia keeps the old fear of dismemberment alive. In this sense, Kosovo has been playing the dominant and most continuous role during the last three decades, and it is unlikely that this will change in the near future. Another problem is Montenegro, which returned to independence in 2006, after almost ninety years of Serb-Montenegrin alliance within Yugoslavia. As in other East European state-building processes, Montenegrin politicians have charged that state independence should be solidified by (re)establishing a national Orthodox church, independent from Serbia. In 1993, Montenegrin nationalists founded a separate Montenegrin Orthodox Church (MnOC), which has never been recognised by the canonical autocephalous churches and which has in fact remained rather small. While the minor but influential Social Democratic Party of Montenegro (SDP) backs the autocephalists and would prefer to drive the SOC and all its priests out of Montenegro, the mainstream Democratic Party of Socialists (DPS) has rather chosen to push the SOC’s Montenegrin Metropolitanate for more independence from Belgrade. Leading DPS politicians such as ‘state founder’ Milo Đukanović or Prime Minister Igor Lukšić have pressed Metropolitan Amfilohije Radović to unite with the MOC, something impossible to achieve since, in the view of other Orthodox churches, the MOC is a heretical organisation which has no legitimate leadership and cannot even claim to be called a church in terms of Orthodox canonicity. The Speaker of Parliament, SDP politician Ranko Krivokapić, has gone even further and declared the SOC illegal; consequently, he has argued that the state should nationalise all property ‘usurped’ by the SOC (i.e. about 600 churches and monasteries) and hand them over to the MnOC. In public discourse, the SOC’s claims are regularly delegitimised by pointing out that this church and its local leader, Metropolitan Amfilohije, were deeply involved in Serbian nationalism in the 1990s. All in all, the Montenegrin situation, as with the Kosovo question, has been keeping the SOC in a constant state of tension.62 Another source of conflict continues to be Macedonia. In 1967, an assembly of Macedonian clergy and laymen proclaimed autocephaly from the Patriarchate of Belgrade, a step the SOC never officially accepted. During the Milošević era, the SOC took steps to reconquer Macedonia ecclesiastically, establishing a parallel hierarchy in 1992. Things seemed to change in 1997 when Yugoslavia recognised the independence of Macedonia. Representatives

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of the Serbian and Macedonian Orthodox churches met several times and the SOC sent signals that it was no longer in principle opposed to Macedonian autocephaly, provided that it was attained in the canonical way, i.e. with prior consent of its Serbian ‘mother church’. A solution seemed close when, in 2002, Serbian and Macedonian bishops met in Niš and signed a protocol which stated that the Macedonian Church should return to the jurisdiction of Belgrade but with ‘real autonomy’. However, the agreement failed because, after returning to Skopje, the Macedonian Holy Synod refused to ratify it. When the Metropolitan of Vardar, Jovan Vraniškovski, announced that he had reintegrated his metropolitanate into the structure of the SOC, Macedonian public opinion revolted. Vraniškovski was excommunicated by the Macedonian bishops and punished with prison sentences by the Macedonian state courts; however, in 2010, he managed to escape to Bulgaria. Since 2005, the SOC considers Vraniškovski to be the legitimate head of Macedonian Orthodoxy, while in Macedonia he is labelled a traitor.63 Compared to this, the situation in Croatia is stable. Since the death of Croatia’s first post-communist President Franjo Tuđman in 1999, Croatian governments have improved the legal and real position of the Serbian minority and the SOC. Confiscated Church property is being slowly returned (up to July 2011 about 15 per cent of the SOC’s overall pre-1941 property). The police require registration of priests from outside Croatia but rarely misuse this prerogative. The Church runs a Serbian Orthodox grammar school in Zagreb with Orthodox religious instruction and Serb language in the curriculum. Apart from occasional vandalism of Church objects in Dalmatia, the main problem for the SOC is that the Serbs in Croatia seem to be dying out. Between the censuses of 1991 and 2001, their share has fallen from 12.1 to 4.5 per cent of the population. Their real weight is even lower, since it is mainly the elderly who have returned, and many people just register in Croatia without residing there.64 Regarding Bosnia-Herzegovina, it is impossible to characterise the position of the SOC in just one sentence. First of all there is a great difference between the Serb entity Republika Srpska, where the SOC has enjoyed a very central social position since the wars of the 1990s, and the rest of the country, i.e. the Bosnjak-Croat Federation. In the latter, the Church suffers from financial shortages since the majority of its believers fled the region in the 1990s.65 Another problem is the restitution of property, first and foremost the building of the Serbian Orthodox seminary in Sarajevo, which was closed in 1941 by the Croatian Ustaša government and nationalised in 1960 by the communists. The Metropolitan of Dabar-Bosna Nikolaj Mrđa stressed in March 2011 that the unwillingness of the Federation to return the building (which is being used by the university’s faculty of economics) was a sign that discrimination against the SOC, started by the Croat quisling forces in 1941, had not yet ended.66 While during the 1990s the SOC in Bosnia-Herzegovina looked like a monolith united by national struggle, these times seem to be over and divisions are almost as deep as in Serbia. Metropolitan Nikolaj, who resides in the Federation, often stresses the country’s multicultural traditions and insists

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on a climate that enables exiled Serbs to return to Sarajevo. In the Republika Srpska, the bishops more easily express a critical stance towards a common Bosnian state as such, but besides that bias, they seem to have little in common. In the Serb-held part of Herzegovina, the Church is polarised between the reformist Bishop Grigorije Durić and his retired predecessor Atanasije Jevtić, one of the leaders of Serb Orthodox nationalism. Furthermore, bishops Vasilije Kačavenda and Grigorije Durić, while residing in geographically close bishoprics, represent opposite sides within Serbian Orthodox discourse. All of this leads to the impression that currently the Serbian Orthodox Church no longer functions as a uniting factor among the Serbs in BosniaHerzegovina.

Conclusion After intense involvement in the Serbian national movement during the wars in Croatia and Bosnia-Herzegovina, since about 1997 the SOC has begun to show signs of diplomatic flexibility. Disillusioned by Slobodan Milošević, a large part of the clergy helped to oust the dictator in 2000 and welcomed democracy. Only then did many of the transformations typical of postcommunist church–state relations begin to take place in Serbia. The SOC assumed an unprecedented role in public discourse and came to be courted by nearly all political forces. During the first years after the democratic revolution it seemed that the Church would also gain a central position in society and everyday life, but these expectations have proved exaggerated. Problems of leadership, disunity among the bishops regarding questions of theology, politics and collective memory, as well as a new clerical habitus of entitlement, have started to alienate many of those who seemed to be attracted by the Orthodox revival a few years ago. In comparison to the national homogenisation of the 1990s, the SOC displays far more pluralism today. This includes a rather open stance within the Orthodox ecumene, i.e. the Serbian Church maintains good contact not only with its traditional allies in the Russian Orthodox Church but also with the Church of Greece and the Ecumenical Patriarchate. In addition, the SOC maintains ties with the Catholic Church and some Protestant denominations. This means that young theologians today have considerable opportunities to develop a broad, cosmopolitan outlook, a fact that most probably will shape the SOC’s future behaviour. However, as to the present situation in general, the SOC shows signs of disorientation and lacks direction.

Appendix 1

Religious leaders

• •

Patriarch Pavle (Stojčević) (1914–2009), in office 1990–2009 Patriarch Irinej (Gavrilović) (1930–), in office 2010–.

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Title: Archbishop of Peć, Metropolitan of Belgrade-Karlovci and Serb Patriarch. Patriarch Irinej I was born Miroslav Gavrilović in the village of Vidova near Čačak on 28 August 1930. After secondary school in Čačak, he studied theology at the Orthodox seminary in Prizren and at the Orthodox Theological Faculty in Belgrade. In 1959, he was consecrated as a monk by Serbian Patriarch German Đorić. In 1962 he left Yugoslavia for graduate studies at the Theological Faculty in Athens. After his return he became an administrator of the monastic school in Ostrog (Montenegro). He was consecrated a bishop in 1974; after one year as a vicar to Patriarch German, he was elected bishop of Niš in 1975, a position he maintained until he was elected Patriarch on 22 January 2010. 3

Theological publications

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Glasnik: Službeni list Srpske Pravoslavne Crkve [The Herald: Official Journal of the Serbian Orthodox Church] Pravoslavlje: Novine Srpske Patrijaršije [Orthodoxy: Newspaper of the Serbian Patriarchate] Bogoslovlje: Časopis Pravoslavnog Bogoslovskog Fakulteta Univerziteta u Beogradu [Theology: Journal of the Orthodox Theological Faculty of the University of Belgrade].

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Congregations

Structure of the Church: 32 bishoprics, 5 metropolitanates (plus 1 autonomous archbishopric in Macedonia which is further divided into 1 metropolitanate and 6 dioceses; these bodies are not recognised by the Former Yugoslav Republic of Macedonia and rather constitute a ‘shadow church’ than a vital structure of the SOC), 3,600 parishes.67 The most important metropolitanate is the Archbishopric of Belgrade-Karlovci. Number of clergy and church buildings: 2,000 priests, 230 monks and 1,000 nuns; more than 200 monasteries, approximately 3,500 churches and chapels.68 5

Population

The overall number of Serbs in the world is hard to establish but most probably does not exceed 10 million,69 about 5.9 million of whom live in Serbia (excluding Kosovo).70 There is no formal registration of church membership, so that the number of Serbian Orthodox believers must be derived from the average identification of Serbs with the SOC in censuses and polls. The 2002 census in Serbia showed that 85 per cent of the population declared itself to be Orthodox, so that the overall church membership may be estimated at

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5 million in Serbia (excluding Kosovo) and 8.5 million worldwide. Important national minorities in Serbia are Hungarians (mostly Catholic, 3.9 per cent), Bosnians (Muslim, 1.8 per cent) and Roma (mostly Orthodox and Muslim, 1.4 per cent).

Notes 1 Klaus Buchenau, ‘What Went Wrong? Church–State Relations in Socialist Yugoslavia’, Nationalities Papers, 2005, 33 (4), 547–67. 2 A. Jevtić, ‘Otvorena poruka Slobodanu Miloševiću’ [Open Message to Slobodan Milošević], Glas Crkve, 1991, 7 (2), 68–9. 3 The central document for this early contribution to national mobilization is the ‘Apel za zaštitu srpskog življa i njegovih svetinja na Kosovu’ [Appeal for the Defence of the Serb Population and its Sanctuaries in Kosovo], signed by twentyone priests and monks of the Serbian Orthodox Church, and published in the Patriarchate’s bimonthly journal Pravoslavlje, 15 May 1982, no. 364, pp. 1–4. 4 Radmila Radić, ‘The Church and the “Serbian Question”’, in Nebojša Popov (ed.), The Road to War in Serbia: Trauma and Catharsis, Budapest: CEU Press, 2000, pp. 247–73. 5 Rich evidence of this kind of thinking can be drawn from an edited volume published in 1996 by the Metropolitanate of Montenegro and the Littoral: Radoš M. Mladenović and Jovan Ćulibrk (eds), Jagnje Božje i zvijer iz bezdana: Filosofija rata: Zbornik radova s drugog bogoslovsko-filozofskog simposiona u dane svetih Kirila i Metodija [The Lamb of God and the Beast from the Abyss: The Philosophy of War: Works of the Second Theologico-Philosophical Symposium on the Days of the Saints Cyril and Methodius], Cetinje: Svetigora, 1996. 6 Klaus Buchenau, ‘From Hot War to Cold Integration? Serbian Orthodox Voices on Globalization and the European Union’, in Victor Roudometof, Alexander Agadjanian and Jerry Pankhurst (eds), Eastern Orthodoxy in a Global Age: Tradition Faces the Twenty-First Century, Walnut Creek, CA: AltaMira Press, 2005, pp. 58–65. 7 ‘Pavlovo pismo Karingtonu’ [Pavle’s Letter to Carrington], Pravoslavlje [Orthodoxy], 1 November 1991, p. 1. 8 A. Herbst, ‘Serbische Bischöfe gegen Patriarchen’ [Serbian Bishops against the Patriarch], G2W, 1996, 24 (3), p. 14. 9 R. Radić, Patrijarh Pavle, Belgrade: Tanjug, 1997, pp. 75–7. 10 J. Gligorijević and Z. Majdin, ‘Poslovi i priključenja vladika srpskih’ [Affairs and Adventures of the Serbian Bishops], Vreme, 18 February 2008, p. 10. 11 For a short description of the organisational structure of the SOC in English, see: http://www.spcportal.org/index.php?pg=508&lang=en (accessed 9 March 2012). 12 Herbst, ‘Serbische Bischöfe’, p. 14. 13 ‘Orthodoxe mit Demonstranten’ [Orthodoxy with the Demonstrators], G2W, 1997, 24 (12) p. 7; G2W, 1997, 25 (1), p. 6. 14 Ryassaphore Nun Natalya, ‘A Pilgrimage to Kosovo Today: An Inspiring Pilgrimage Report by a Nun of Holy Cross Skete with Impressions from her Visit to the Orthodox Shrines of Kosovo in 1996’. Online at: http://www.kosovo.net/ pilgrimg.html (accessed 7 February 2012); Interview with Abbot Theodosios of Decani monastery. Online at: http://www.kosovo.net/theodos.html (accessed 7 February 2012). 15 Klaus Buchenau, ‘Vom traumatischen Gedächtnis zur politischen Aktion: Die Serbische Orthodoxe Kirche im Kosovokonflikt’ [From Traumatic Memory to Political Action: The Serbian Orthodox Church in the Kosovo Conflict], in Werner Rammert, Gunther Knaute, Klaus Buchenau, Florian Altenhöner (eds), Kollektive

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27 28

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Klaus Buchenau Identitäten und kulturelle Innovationen: Ethnologische, soziologische und historische Studien, Leipzig: Leipziger Universitätsverlag, 2001, pp. 146–9. Interview by the author with Sava Janjić on 12 February 2006 in Dečani Monastery, Kosovo. Klaus Buchenau, ‘Die Serbische Orthodoxe Kirche seit 1996: Eine Chronik’ [The Serbian Orthodox Church since 1996: A Chronicle], Journal for Eastern Christian Studies, 2003, 55 (1–2), 104–5. Anne Herbst, ‘Belohnter Widerstand: Die Serbisch-Orthodoxe Kirche und der Machtwechsel in Jugoslawien’ [Resistance Rewarded: The Serbian Orthodox Church and the Change of Power in Yugoslavia], G2W, 2000, 28 (11), 11–12. Buchenau, ‘From Hot War to Cold Integration’, pp. 62–3. Bojan Aleksov, ‘The New Role for the Church in Serbia’, Südosteuropa, 2008, 56 (3), p. 356. Christian A. Nielsen, ‘Ruling Voices. Two Collections of Essays by Kostunica and his Colleague Highlight the Reasoning behind the Regime’, Transitions Online, 16 August 2001. Online at: http://www.tol.org/client/article/1869-ruling-voices.html (accessed 17 January 2012). For an English translation of the Serbian Constitution, see: http://www.mfa.gov.rs/ Facts/UstavRS_pdf.pdf (with the preamble’s mention of Kosovo on p. 2) (accessed 17 January 2012). Such as the law professor Kosta Čavoški, the historians and diplomats Dušan Bataković and Milan St. Protić, the philosophers Bogoljub Šijaković and Milan Radulović, both of whom served terms as minister of religion under Koštunica. Nielsen, ‘Ruling Voices’. For Velimirović as a historical figure see Klaus Buchenau, Auf russischen Spuren: Orthodoxe Antiwestler in Serbien, 1850–1945 [On Russian Traces: Orthodox AntiWesterners in Serbia, 1850–1945], Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 2011, pp. 140–71, 223–30, 444–66. On Velimirović’s rehabilitation since 1989 see Jovan Byford, Denial and Repression of Anti-Semitism: Post-Communist Remembrance of the Serbian Bishop Nikolaj Velimirović, Budapest and New York: CEU Press, 2008. See, for example, the activities of the office of the Christian Democratic Konrad Adenauer Foundation in Belgrade, as exemplified in the conference volume Hrišćanstvo i evropske integracije [Christianity and European Integration], Belgrade: Hrišćanski kulturni centar, 2003. A key mediator between Serbian Orthodoxy and German Catholicism was Bishop Josef Homeyer (1929–2010) of Hildesheim, who initiated numerous Serbian–German meetings and conferences. In 2004, the SOC awarded him the Church’s highest decoration, the Medal of St Sava. Buchenau, ‘Die Serbische Orthodoxe Kirche seit 1996’, p. 107. Zorica Kuburić, Verske zajednice u Srbiji i verska distanca [Religious Communities and Religious Distance in Serbia], Novi Sad: CEIR, 2010, p. 144; an up-to-date list of registered religious communities is published on the website of the Ministry of Religions and Diaspora (Ministarstvo Vere i Diaspore): http://www.mvd.gov.rs/ download/dokumenti/spisak_crkava_i_verskih_zajednica_srb2011.pdf (accessed 13 February 2012). Jelena Jorgačević, ‘Slučajevi, zakoni i njihova tumačenja’ [Affairs, Laws and Their Explanations], Vreme, 7 August 2011, p. 20. Zakon o vraćanju (restituciji) imovine crkvama i verskim zajednicama [Law on the Restitution of Property to Churches and Religious Communities]. Online at: http:// www.zakonski.info/dokumentacija/srbija/propisi/skupstina/zakoni/z%20a%20 k%20o%20n%20o%20vracanju%20(restituciji)%20imovine%20crkvama%20i%20 verskim%20zajednicama/body.pdf (accessed 20 January 2012). Nachrichtendienst Östliche Kirchen (NÖK) 30/11 and 33/11. Online at: http://www.kirchen-in-osteuropa.de (accessed 20 January 2012).

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31 Večernje Novosti, 26 Julу 2002. ANEM: Asocijacija nezavisnih elektronskih media. 32 See the website of the Ministry of Defence: http://www.mod.gov.rs/novi_lat. php?action=fullnews&id=3677 (accessed 20 January 2012). 33 The break-up of the coalition between Tadić’s DS (Demokratska stranka – Democratic Party) and Koštunica’s DSS (Demokratska stranka Srbije – Democratic Party of Serbia) related to Kosovo’s declaration of independence in February 2008. While the DS was willing to continue Serbia’s policy of EU integration, Koštunica demanded that Serbia should in fact cancel its contact with the EU since a majority of its member states supported Kosovo’s independence. 34 Informationsdienst der Serbischen Orthodoxen Diözese für Mitteleuropa, 22 June 2009. Online at: http://www.serbische-diozese.org/03/index.php?option=com_con tent&view=article&id=413%3Aserbien-gedenkt-der-opfer-der-kosovo-ausschreitungen-vom-maerz-2004&catid=48%3Anews-&Itemid=75&lang=de (accessed 20 January 2012). 35 Jovan Janjić, ‘Vera i pronevera’ [Faith and Embezzlement], NIN, 18 February 2010, p. 34. 36 Jelena Tasić, ‘Rasplet ‘slučaja’ vladika Artemije’ [Dissolution of the Bishop Artemije Affair], Danas, 26 April 2010, p. 4; Janjić, ‘Vera i pronevera’. 37 Standard, 31 October 2008, p. 14; 14 November 2008, p. 14; 15 May 2009, p. 24. 38 Klaus Buchenau, ‘The Churches and the Hague Tribunal: A Serbian Orthodox and a Croat Catholic Perspective’. Online at: http://www.fpsoe.de (accessed 20 January 2012); Standard, 31 October 2008, p. 14. 39 Voja Žanetić, ‘Kad se s neba žreba’ [When Heaven Casts Lots], Večernje Novosti, 24 January 2010, p. 4; Politika, 18 January 2010, p. A5. 40 Gligorijević and Majdin, ‘Poslovi i priključenja’, p. 10; Standard, 31 October 2008, p. 14. 41 N. M. Jovanović and Ž. Jevtić, ‘Vladika s najviše glasova saradnik tajne službe’ [The Bishop with the Most Votes – A Collaborator of the Secret Service], Blic, 15 January 2010, p. 4; www.sok-aktuell.org (accessed 3 October 2010). 42 V. P. and I. K., ‘Papa (ne)dolazi!’ [The Pope Will (Not) Come!], Alo, 20 May 2011; V. S., ‘Papa Benedikt XVI neće doći u Srbiju bez poziva SPC’ [Pope Benedict XVI Will Not Go to Serbia without an Invitation by the SOC], Nacionalni građanski, 3 July 2011; R. Lončar, ‘Rusi ne daju papi u Niš?’ [The Russians Don’t Admit the Pope to Niš?], Vesti online, 14 May 2011. 43 Sandra Petrušić, Nikola Jablanov and S. Ikonić, ‘Gresi duhovnika: Vrednosni haos u SPC’ [Clerical Sins: Value Chaos in the SOC], NIN, 27 October 2011, p. 32; religious analyst Živica Tucić considers that after a short spring in 2010, the SOC has entered a period of stagnation. Živica Tucić, ‘SPC: U očekivanju promena’ [SOC: Awaiting Changes], NIN, 5 January 2012, p. 20. 44 Živica Tucić and Dragana Nikoletić, ‘Iskušenja mamona’ [The Temptations of Mammon], NIN, 17 February 2011, p. 34. 45 Večernje novosti, 4 November 2011. Online at: http://www.novosti.rs/vesti/naslovna/ aktuelno.290.html:352108-Molitva-medju-skelama (accessed 3 February 2012). 46 Petrušić et al., ‘Gresi duhovnika’. 47 Gligorijević and Majdin, ‘Poslovi i priključenja’. 48 N. A., ‘Vladika optužen pod pritiskom ambasade SAD’ [Bishop Accused Due to Pressure from the US Embassy], Blic, 24 April 2003, p. 10; Veselin Pešić, ‘Vladika pretio dečacima’ [Bishop Threatened Kids], Blic, 6 November 2007, p. 14; Zoran Majdin, ‘Crkvena prašina’ [Church Dust], Vreme, 9 March 2006, p. 18. 49 M. R. Pretnje ‘Crnom Rukom’ [Threats with the ‘Black Hand’], Večernje Novosti, 28 June 2003, p. 15; Jovan Janjić, ‘Optužbe po mantiji’ [Accusations by Cassock], NIN, 16 January 2003, p. 31.

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50 V. Pešić and V. Z. Cvijić, ‘Pahomije oslobođen zbog sprege države i crkve’ [Pahomije Absolved Because of Union of Church and State], Blic, 24 June 2008, p. 16. 51 Parts of the letter were published by the daily Večernje Novosti, 10 December 2008, p. 5. 52 S. Tuvić, ‘Papina lekcija srpskoj crkvi’ [The Pope’s Lection to the Serbian Church], Večernje novosti, 10 December 2008, p. 5. 53 See the interview with Kačavenda’s former deacon Bojan Jovanović on Radio Sarajevo, 20 June 2011. Online at: http://www.radiosarajevo.ba/novost/56515/ ispovijest-kacavendinog-monaha-pedofilija-i-razvrat (accessed 2 February 2012). 54 Ivan Beslić (ed.), Čuvari Jugoslavije: Saradnici UDBE u Bosni i Herzegovin, vol. IV, Srbi [The Guards of Yugoslavia: Collaborators of the UDBA in BosniaHercegovina, vol. IV, Serbs], Posušje: Samizdat, 2003, pp. 522–5. For more details see Jovanović and Jevtić, ‘Vladika s najviše glasova saradnik tajne službe’. 55 Petrušić et al., ‘Gresi duhovnika’. 56 See the coverage on Radio Sarajevo, 20 June 2011, 5 July 2011, 7 July 2011, 22 July 2011, 10 August 2011, 17 August 2011, 5 September 2011, http://www.radiosarajevo.ba/ (accessed 2 February 2012). 57 Borba, 18 May 2009, p. 5. 58 Zoran Tomić, ‘Očajnička akcija mladih vladika’ [The Desperate Action of Young Bishops], Standard, 15 May 2009, p. 24. 59 Radmila Radić, Narodna verovanja, religija i spiritizam u srpskom društvu 19. i u prvoj polovini 20. veka [Folk Beliefs, Religion and Spiritualism in Serbian Society during the Nineteenth and the First Half of the Twentieth Century], Beograd: Inis, 2009, pp. 70–136. 60 Mirko Blagojević, Religija i Crkva u transformacijama društva: Sociološko-istorijska analiza religijske situacije u srpsko-crnogorskom i ruskom (post)komunističkom društvu [Religion and Church in the Transformations of Society: Socio-historical Analysis of the Religious Situation in the Serbo-Montenegrin and Russian PostCommunist Society], Beograd: Filip Višnjić, 2005. 61 Sonja Vlajnić, ‘Crkva se plaši promena’ [The Church is Afraid of Changes], Nedeljni Telegraf, 13 May 2009, p. 8. 62 Stefan Kube, ‘Serbische Kirche und Kosovo’ [The Serbian Church and Kosovo], G2W, 2008, 36 (3), 26–7; and 36 (4), 22–3; RTS, 15 September 2011. Online at: http://www.naslovi.net/2011-09-15/rts/krivokapic-spc-nelegalna-u-crnojgori/2809651 (accessed 3 February 2012); B92, 18 May 2011. Online at: http:// www.naslovi.net/2011-05-18/b92/crna-gora-ima-drzavu-pa-bi-i-crkvu/2546255 (accessed 3 February 2012). 63 Buchenau, ‘Die Serbische Orthodoxe Kirche seit 1996’, pp. 111–13; Jorgačević, ‘Slučajevi’, p. 20. 64 Jorgačević, ‘Slučajevi’, p. 20. 65 Ibid. 66 RSplaneta, 18 March 2011. Online at: http://www.rsplaneta.com/rs-bih/mitropolit-nikolaj-uputio-apel-za-vracanje-zgrade-pravoslavne-bogoslovije (accessed 3 February 2012). 67 Neither the Belgrade Patriarchate nor the Republic of Serbia regularly publishes statistics on the SOC. The data are taken from the SOC’s parish in Lucerne, which has a well-run website including an overview of the eparchies (http://www. spcportal.org/), and from the Serbian Orthodox News Portal (www.sok-aktuell. org), accessed 3 October 2010). See also Radomir Popović’s work Kratak pregled Srpske Crkve kroz istoriju [A Short Overview of the Serbian Church through History] published as a book in 2002 and which is partly available online at: http://www.svetosavlje.org/biblioteka/istorija/SPC05.htm (accessed 6 February 2012).

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68 See: www.sok-aktuell.org, 3 October 2010; Večernje novosti, 4 November 2011. Online at http://www.novosti.rs/vesti/naslovna/aktuelno.290.html:352108-Molitvamedju-skelama (accessed 3 February 2012). 69 Goran Nikolić, ‘Koliko zapravo ima Srba?’ [How Many Serbs Are There Really?], 1 March 2011. Online at: http://blog.b92.net/ (accessed 6 February 2012). 70 The number of Serbs in Serbia is derived from a combination of the total number of population according to the last census in 2011 (of which the results have as yet only partly been published) and figures for the national composition of Serbia from the census of 2002, which showed that 83 per cent of the population declared themselves as Serbs. Online at: http://popis2011.stat.rs/ and http://en.wikipedia. org/wiki/Demographics_of_Serbia (accessed 6 February 2012).

5

The Romanian Orthodox Church Lucian Turcescu and Lavinia Stan

According to the 2002 Romanian census, the dominant religious group is the Romanian Orthodox Church, claiming the allegiance of some 86.7 per cent (or 18.8 million) of the country’s total population of 21.7 million. Other significant groups are the Roman Catholic Church (4.7 per cent), the Reform Church (3.2 per cent) and the Pentecostal Church (1.5 per cent). The Romanian Greek Catholic Church United with Rome represents just less than 1 per cent, Judaism under 0.1 per cent and atheists also under 0.1 per cent. Some 0.3 per cent of the population belongs to Islam.1 The Roman Catholic and Reform Churches attract a lot of ethnic Hungarians living in Transylvania. The country’s Romanian majority represents 90 per cent of the total population, while the Hungarians and the Roma amount to 6.6 and 2.5 per cent, respectively.2 To understand how the Romanian Orthodox Church (RomOC) has and will continue to perform in the twenty-first-century political landscape, it is important to begin a little earlier. The collapse of communism in Eastern Europe (1989) and the former Soviet Union (1991) was a watershed in terms of the redefinition of church–state relations. The year 1989 brought for Romania and its majority church new opportunities for cooperation between church and state. Although RomOC went through some persecution and rather heavy clergy collaboration with the communist secret police and the party-state, after 1989 it managed to position itself as one of the country’s most important political and social actors that contributed to the shaping of the new Western-style liberal democracy the country sought. This chapter begins by looking at how RomOC has dealt with its recent past, particularly the collaboration of its higher clergy with the communist authorities. This will help us understand how the church positioned itself in twenty-first-century politics by refusing to fully acknowledge its collaboration and to make reparations for the victims of its actions. Then we will consider post-communist issues such as the church’s involvement in party politics as a means for RomOC to have a better say in issues that are relevant to it. The new law on religion of 2006 is another section of this chapter. Last, we will present the evolving models of church–state relations according to the RomOC, arguing that RomOC appears to have moved away from seeking the

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status of established (or state) church for itself to a model of collaboration with the state in the increasingly pluralistic religious landscape in democratic Romania at the beginning of this century.

Dealing with the past: clergy collaboration with the communist authorities An issue that has caused headaches for Christians ever since the beginning of their religion is that of collaboration with the persecutor and how to reconcile members of the Church with one another and with society at large once persecution ceases. After 1989, many churches in Eastern Europe were faced with the issue of collaboration with communist authorities. RomOC was not alone in collaborating with the communist secret police in enforcing the goals of the party-state. As researchers access new archival evidence and former collaborators confess to their activities, a more complete picture will eventually emerge. What we know so far is that, despite awareness among the clergy that confessing one’s personal sins is a welcome gesture and a cleansing practice, which they encourage other people to undertake, few Orthodox clergy have confessed to their past collaboration. Even among those who did, like the Metropolitan of Banat Nicolae Corneanu, the full extent of their collaboration with the Securitate did not become known until excerpts from their personal files compiled by the communist political police were made public. They did not resign their positions after the public revelations. Our book, Religion and Politics in Post-Communist Romania,3 presents the most relevant cases of clergy collaboration that were available to us. In the meanwhile, additional information has become available. Access to secret files remains a very sensitive subject in Romania, and politicians and church leaders managed to curtail access to the files of various social categories, including the clergy. Unlike other former communist Eastern European countries, Romania has lagged behind in the transitional justice process that began in 1990 and was fuelled by repeated calls for the condemnation of the communist past, for the banning of communist officials and collaborators from post-communist political life and for the disclosure of the names of the informers who provided the political police with information on their neighbours, friends, relatives and work colleagues.4 According to the Law on Access to the Securitate Files 187 of December 1999, the National Council for the Study of the Securitate Archives (CNSAS) is the government agency that grants Romanians access to their own files and investigates citizens’ past involvement with the Securitate, including public officials, electoral candidates, bureaucrats, administrators, diplomats, religious leaders, journalists and university professors.5 In response to calls for disclosing the collaboration of clergy, RomOC mounted the most vocal campaign opposing access to the files of its leaders and clergy. Many local observers have seen this as a sign of RomOC’s extensive collaboration with the Securitate and its fears that, if this past were

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publicly disclosed, it would lessen the Church’s moral authority with the Romanian public. An increasing number of scholars are now arguing, based on archival evidence, that the Church collaborated closely with the communist regime in exchange for protection of its assets from nationalisation and for a privileged position among religious denominations. In post-communist times, two of the most infamous revelations of collaboration with the communist Securitate were those of Patriarch Teoctist and Metropolitan Nicolae Corneanu. They were not the only ones.6 Teoctist failed to criticise the nation’s dictator even after the anti-Ceauşescu revolt started in the western city of Timişoara in 1989. On 19 December 1989, three days after the massacre in front of the Timişoara Orthodox cathedral, Teoctist sent a telegram to Ceauşescu, marking the end of the National Church Assembly annual meeting and congratulating the dictator for his predictable re-election as Communist Party leader one month earlier. The public outcry that followed shortly after 22 December 1989, the day the dictator was ousted, led to the resignation of Teoctist as head of RomOC, for what he diplomatically referred to as ‘reasons of health and age’. Teoctist asked God and believers for forgiveness for lying under duress and failing to oppose the dictatorship, but his penitential mood did not last for too long. Practical considerations pertaining to canon law and leadership continuity prevailed over the need to deal with the painful communist past. Three months later he returned to lead the Church. An archival document discovered in 2001 portrays Teoctist as an Iron Guard member and a participant in the January 1941 fascist rebellion, which resulted in the death of 416 people, of whom 120 were Jewish. The communist regime forced many former Iron Guard members to collaborate under threat of disclosing their past fascist sympathies. The document, which the Securitate agents drafted based on information supplied by unnamed informers, suggested that the twenty-six-year-old Teoctist ransacked a Bucharest synagogue, together with other priests and Iron Guard members. The patriarchate spokesman dismissed the document as ‘pure fabrication’, but historian Gabriel Catalan reported that in fond D, file 7755, volume 3, page 239 of the Securitate archive he found Note 131 of 4 October 1949 linking Teoctist to the Iron Guard and the synagogue destruction. Historian Cristian Troncota, who had access to Teoctist’s Securitate file, confirmed Teoctist’s membership of the Guard but not his participation in the synagogue destruction. Troncota described the file as ‘impressive’, containing eight thick volumes, and revealed that Teoctist ‘was followed until he became the patriarch. Some bishops reported on him, and many synod members opposed him.’7 On 23 March 2001, the Romanian Information Service (SRI) announced that, after carefully analysing Teoctist’s secret file 62046, it concluded that the Securitate pursued the Patriarch, who was its victim, not its informer. Soon afterwards, CNSAS tried to exonerate the Patriarch of collaboration, an action criticised by the opposition Democratic Party, which accused the CNSAS of rushing to clear the Patriarch without considering his voluminous file. The case speaks

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for the tremendous difficulties facing transitional justice in a divided country like Romania.8 The case of Metropolitan Nicolae Corneanu is equally illuminating. Along with Fr Eugen Jurca, Corneanu confessed to his collaboration and asked for forgiveness. A bishop since 1961, Corneanu made compromises with the communist government, but in a 1997 interview he candidly admitted to defrocking five dissident priests in 1981 under pressure from the Securitate. In August 2007, CNSAS confirmed the collaboration of Metropolitan Corneanu with the Securitate as a political police. Corneanu chose not to challenge the CNSAS decision in court, probably because his collaboration was far more extensive and dramatic than that of any other bishop or priest known to this day. His code names were many: ‘Munteanu’, ‘Popa Vasile’, ‘Popescu Ion or Popescu Ioan’, ‘Munteanu Ioan’. His file, handed over by the SRI to the CNSAS (no. R 315), has no fewer than ten volumes and covers almost four decades (1950–88). For example, in 1953 Corneanu is described as a source ‘who is full of sincerity and willingness to work [for the Securitate], displaying a serious attitude toward the tasks with which he is entrusted’9 and having obtained his position of bishop in 1961 as a result of help from the Securitate. From 1951 to 1957, he was on the payroll of the Securitate and received some 500 lei (€120) per month, the equivalent of an average salary, for activities performed both inside and outside Romania. In 1963, only two years after being elected a bishop, Corneanu was described as ‘someone who does not believe in the church teachings and dogmas, and who is convinced that the Church was always used to deceive the masses’.10 There were also clergy who did not collaborate with or opposed the Securitate. Some of them were persecuted or died in the communist prisons during the early years of communism, while just a few (such as Gheorghe Calciu-Dumitreasa) became dissidents and were forced into exile in the 1980s. The ones who did not collaborate were probably very few, because, according to former Securitate officer Roland Vasilievici (who was directly responsible for recruiting priests for the Timişoara branch from 1976 to 1986), 80 to 90 percent of the Orthodox clergy were recruited. Vasilievici suggested that: [T]his information network [of priests] was gradually educated in a nationalist, chauvinist, and xenophobic spirit. Church leaders were supervised by the intelligence and counterintelligence departments, were subjected to complex training programmes, and sent abroad to serve their socialist country by collecting information, participating in nationalist-communist propaganda activities and disinformation campaigns, providing false information to emigration leaders, infiltrating Radio Free Europe, and mending the broken image of Romania and its communist leadership.11 In 2008, the use of the Securitate files to verify collaboration with the Securitate became so annoying to the Conservative Party leader Dan Voiculescu that he decided to block it by challenging the constitutionality of

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Law 187/1999 in the Constitutional Court. The Court ruled in his favour and struck down the law as unconstitutional on 31 January 2008. In response, the government introduced Emergency Ordinance (OUG) 1/2008 to ensure the continuity of some activities of the CNSAS. Article 2.B.tz of the Ordinance stipulated that CNSAS must verify, through its Investigation Department, the following groups of people, in order to establish whether they worked as case (full-time) officers or (part-time) collaborators with the Securitate by transmitting information, in any format, as written notes and reports, verbal communications written down by case officers, through which they denounced the activities and attitudes critical toward the totalitarian communist regime, and which infringed on fundamental human rights. One such category includes the ‘leaders and members of officially registered religious denominations down to, and including, the priests and those working as such in parishes located in Romania and abroad’.12 Later in 2008, Parliament rejected OUG 1/2008 and instead passed Law 293 of 2008 which reads that ‘leaders and members of officially registered religious denominations down to, and including, the priests and those working as such in parishes located in Romania and abroad [were to be verified by the CNSAS] at the request of the representatives of the religious denomination to which they belonged’. This makes verification of clergy collaboration almost impossible to request unless authorized by the religious leaders of their respective denominations. The RomOC spokesman, Fr Constantin Stoica, welcomed the decision reached by Parliament and not imposed by the RomOC, and stressed that the RomOC intends to respect the legislation adopted by Parliament.13

Religion and party politics Religion and party politics have been reflected in the direct involvement of priests and prelates in politics as party members and candidates for local or central governmental office; the support given by clergy to electoral candidates in exchange for legislation favourable to their religious group; and the candidates’ use of religious symbols to win votes. The Orthodox Church has been a force to be reckoned with, an indispensable ally for presidential candidates and political parties and the most vocal denomination during electoral campaigns. By contrast, evangelical Protestant groups and new religious movements lack the numbers that would make them attractive to politicians and parties, and they seldom play a role in elections. Most Roman Catholic and Reformed faithful are drawn from among the Transylvanian German and Hungarian minorities, each represented politically by a democratic federation of political parties.14 Priests have been actively involved in elections, advising parishioners to vote for candidates, blessing electoral banners and praising their favourite parties

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from the pulpit. But the Orthodox Church’s leadership body, the Holy Synod, has oscillated in its position regarding clergy involvement in politics, sometimes encouraging it and at other times discouraging it. In the early 1990s, the Synod sought to ban priests, monks and bishops from engaging in partisan politics, but its attempts were disregarded. Dozens of hierarchs and priests joined political parties, and some of them secured seats in Parliament and the cabinet. After 2000, more Orthodox priests entered politics, with Ilie Sârbu becoming Minister of Agriculture and Ioan Aurel Rus renewing his mandate and continuing to represent the nationalist Greater Romania Party in the Senate until 2008. Rus ended up being defrocked for disobeying the Synod ruling against partisan politics for priests, but in 2011 he withdrew from all his political positions for health reasons.15 The 2000 local elections saw an unprecedented number of Orthodox, Greek Catholic, Baptist, Evangelical and Reformed clergy become members of parliament, mayors and deputy mayors, local and county council members. In 2008, the Synod allowed Orthodox priests to seek election as town, city and county councillors as independent candidates, but not in mayoralties or positions in the central government.16 The Synod decision was not accepted by Metropolitan Bartolomeu Anania of Cluj, who told his priests that they were not allowed to enter politics at any level.17 While the national Orthodox Church leaders have seen benefits in priests’ participation in politics, local leaders have worried that priests will lose their political neutrality by promoting party politics in their parishes. After 1996 religion moved to the forefront of electoral debates, compelling all contenders to define their position vis-à-vis the Orthodox Church and Christianity. Presidential candidates included visits to Orthodox churches in their electoral itineraries, showed up for religious services on major Orthodox feast days and were photographed surrounded by Orthodox icons, calendars and crosses. Some made substantial donations for church enlargement and reconstruction; others godfathered orphans and witnessed marriages in widely publicised ceremonies. The highlight of the 1996 presidential race was the televised debate in which the Christian Democrat Emil Constantinescu surprised the incumbent Ion Iliescu, a self-declared atheist, by asking him whether he believed in God. In the end, Constantinescu won and, in a token of gratitude, became the first post-communist Romanian president to take his solemn oath, hand on the Bible, in the presence of the Orthodox Patriarch. Since then, the Patriarch has opened each legislative session by encouraging legislators to promote the interests of the people. Traian Băsescu, president since 2004, at first was not interested in forging good ties with the Orthodox Church. While mayor of Bucharest (2000–4), he denied approval of a construction permit for the erection of the National Salvation Cathedral, although the government had transferred a sizeable lot to the Church in Carol Park.18 Băsescu continued to oppose the cathedral project on technical grounds during the presidential electoral campaign of 2004 but, as the election day drew near and he realised the importance of the Orthodox vote, his attitude changed. He retracted support for homosexual

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marriages and the legalisation of prostitution and pledged to return property to the Archbishopric of Suceava if elected president, in an effort to outbid his main rivals for the presidential seat. Hours before the poll, Băsescu attended mass at a Bucharest church, mumbled the Our Father and was blessed and sprinkled with holy water by the priest. That last-minute display of religiousness may have helped him to win the elections. Just before the 2009 presidential elections, Băsescu again burned his bridges with the Orthodox Church by endorsing the report of the Presidential Commission for the Analysis of the Social and Demographic Risks, which recommended the legalisation of prostitution and drug usage and singled out the clergy as a privileged and influential group in Romanian society. According to the report, clergy benefited from public funds through state-sponsored salaries, subsidies for buildings and church repairs and the mandatory character of religious education in public schools, which guarantees employment for theology graduates. When Patriarch Daniel condemned the report, sociologist Cristian Pârvulescu warned that the endorsement of the report could cost Băsescu votes, because Romania is an ultra-conservative society and ‘no church in the world would endorse the legalisation of prostitution and drug consumption’.19 Several parties have included references to God and Christianity in their platforms. The Christian Democrat Peasant Party, which reregistered officially immediately after the 1989 Revolution and included many Transylvanian Greek Catholic leaders, presented itself as defender of Christian values in the face of atheism and secularism and frequently reminded its members and the larger Romanian society of the contribution the Greek Catholic and Orthodox Church made to nation- and state-building. The party won seats in Parliament in 1990 and formed the government from 1996 to 2000, but was almost wiped out in 2000. Since then, it has garnered only a small fraction of the national vote, remaining an out-of-parliament party. The two other parties that have used Christian values are the nationalistic Greater Romania Party of Corneliu Vadim Tudor and the New Generation – Christian Democrat Party of Gigi Becali. A former court poet of communist dictator Ceauşescu, Tudor has made a habit out of abusing Orthodox symbols and presenting himself as the country’s messianic saviour. Christian charity and tolerance, however, have made no impact on the party’s platform, which remains anti-Semitic, nationalist and chauvinist. While he competed in almost all post-communist presidential elections, only in 2000 did Tudor have a real chance of winning, but ultimately Ion Iliescu defeated him. He served as a senator in the Romanian Parliament between 1992 and 2008, and became a member of the European Parliament afterwards. One of Romania’s richest individuals, Becali has led the tiny New Generation – Christian Democrat Party since January 2004 and unsuccessfully ran in the presidential elections organised in 2004 and 2009. In June 2009 he became a member of the European Parliament.20 Conducting his politics under the slogan ‘In the Service of the Cross and the Romanian Nation’, Becali is known for his frequent references to God and Christianity, dislike of homosexuals and support

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for traditional family values and very conservative and extreme nationalist views, which he has imparted to his party.21 In Romania, the party has gained no parliamentary representation to date.

A new law on religion As in other East European countries, the interplay between religion and politics underwent fundamental changes after the 1989 regime transformation from communism to democracy. In Romania, the most repressive aspects of state control over religious affairs were removed, freedom of conscience and religion was upheld by the 1991 Constitution, religion classes, religious symbols and prayers were introduced in public schools at all pre-university levels, theological programmes were opened in higher-education institutions throughout the country, the state supported financially the building of thousands of new places of worship, the Greek Catholic Church and Roman Catholic religious orders were relegalised and some of the property abusively confiscated by communist authorities was returned to denominations. All these developments occurred in the absence of arguably the most important piece of legislation related to religious affairs: a new Law on Religion designed to supersede the communist legislation. Indeed, the communist Decree 177/1948 on religious groups remained in effect until 2006, when Parliament adopted Law 489 on Religious Freedom and the General Regime of Religious Denominations (known as the Law on Religion). The communist decree provided for state control over religious affairs, prohibited denominations from engaging in relations with foreign churches without the approval of the Romanian government, dismantled certain religious orders, drastically reduced the number of theological schools for all faiths and banned the organisation of political parties along religious lines.22 After 1989, governments chose not to apply the most restrictive and oppressive stipulations of the communist decree but, in the absence of a new Law on Religion, religious affairs depended on the whim of political rulers, who could decide which legal provisions to enforce or ignore at any given time. It is unsurprising, therefore, that religious denominations began asking for a new Law on Religion in the days immediately following the Revolution of December 1989. During the 1990s, the State Secretariat for Religious Affairs, the governmental agency supervising religious affairs in Romania, worked on a draft bill but acute political instability, wide divergence between the religious majority and minority groups and adamant opposition from the Orthodox Church to legislation not recognising it as the de jure national church delayed the formulation of a bill agreeable to the country’s main political and religious actors. Only after 2000 did State Secretary Laurenţiu Tănase, representing the Party of Social Democracy, make significant progress on a draft bill as a result of consultations with registered religious denominations. Of course, his proposal did not satisfy everyone, the more so since Tănase, a graduate of the Bucharest Faculty of Orthodox Theology who maintained close ties to

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the Orthodox Patriarchate, privileged the position of the Orthodox majority. While not granting the status of full ‘national church’, the bill made important concessions to the Orthodox Church. It raised requirements for the official registration of denominations to a minimum membership equivalent to 0.1 per cent of the total population and a minimum presence in the country for ten years, responding to Orthodox apprehensions about the range of new religious movements and groups that entered the country after 1989. The bill also presented as compulsory religion classes in public schools, most of which have been offered in the Orthodox faith. In reality, these religion classes are not compulsory, thanks to the international covenants guaranteeing freedom of conscience which Romania has signed. Despite its shortcomings, the draft Law on Religion represented a significant step towards preventing the state from encroaching on religious life, making relations between denominations and the state more transparent and permanent, and reaffirming the state’s commitment toward democratic religious plurality. Neither President Băsescu nor his Truth-and-Justice Alliance had major input in the formulation of the bill, whose text was already in place in late 2004 when the Social Democrats were defeated and Băsescu backed by a Democratic-Liberal government assumed power. During the following two years, the bill was introduced in Parliament, discussed in commissions, debated by legislators and voted upon. Its adoption in December 2006, just days before the country was scheduled to join the European Union, reflected the perceived need, shared by Romanian politicians and the general public, to ‘put the house in order’ and rush the adoption of key pieces of legislation before the country became a European Union member. The acquis communautaire did not explicitly require the adoption of a new Law on Religion (Slovenia adopted such a law years after it joined the Union). Yet, as with official condemnation of the communist regime presented also in mid-December 2006, the general belief was that the action was useful and symbolic of shedding the past and preparing to enter a new era. Thus the Ministry of Culture and Religious Affairs reported that the law was ‘called for by Romania’s accession to the European Union and in accordance with similar stipulations adopted in other European countries and with Romanian post-communist reality’.23

Changing times for the RomOC: the death of Patriarch Teoctist and the election of Patriarch Daniel The year 2007 was momentous in Romania from both a political and religious viewpoint. On January 1, Romania became a member of the European Union. In the spring, Traian Băsescu was the first Romanian president impeached by a parliamentary majority united only in hatred against him. One month later, a national referendum brought Băsescu back to the presidency by popular support. Months later, on July 30, the ninety-two-year-old Patriarch Teoctist unexpectedly died from cardiac complications following prostate surgery, opening the thorny issue of his succession.

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After the fall of Ceauşescu, the Orthodox Church and Patriarch Teoctist were strongly criticised for supporting the communist regime to its very end. The Synod’s response of 10 January 1990 apologised for those ‘who did not always have the courage of the martyrs’, and voiced regret that it had been ‘necessary to pay the tribute of obligatory and artificial praises addressed to the dictator’ to ensure limited liberties.24 Faced with increasing criticism, Patriarch Teoctist resigned his office on 18 January 1990, only to return three months later at the insistence of the Synod. Some religious and cultural leaders protested at his return, but the Synod opted for continuity in the face of political change and acknowledged the views of the other Orthodox churches that had continued recognising Teoctist as Patriarch. Once reinstated, Patriarch Teoctist made the building of the national cathedral his personal goal, managed to keep balance between the reformist and conservative factions of the Church and struggled to gain privileges for the Orthodox Church. Overall, his post-1990 reign was beneficial to the Church and the country as a whole. Under his leadership, the Church gained unprecedented recognition, its communist-era faults were largely forgiven and forgotten by the faithful and a plurality of views were voiced within the Church which launched new social programmes, regained lost properties, restored its places of worship and built numerous others and gained the support of trusted allies within the political establishment without being dragged into any major public scandals. The introduction of religion in public schools boosted the Church’s influence in society so much that the Church has consistently ranked as the most trusted institution in the country, well above Parliament.25 Teoctist was a flexible and skilful negotiator and a sensible reader of public sentiment who wished his Church to remain in sync with post-communist realities. He opposed neither Romania’s accession to the EU, supported by most of the population, nor Pope John Paul II’s visit to Bucharest in May 1999, seen as necessary for Romania’s rapprochement with the West. Many Romanians genuinely mourned Teoctist’s death in 2007. The Romanian Orthodox Church became autocephalous in 1888, being elevated to the rank of a Patriarchate in 1925. No written rules governed succession to its highest office, but tradition dictated that the Metropolitan of Moldova, Romania’s most traditional and least developed province, was anointed the new Patriarch. This unwritten rule was observed for Teoctist and all of his four predecessors. However, the traditional rule was challenged in the aftermath of Teoctist’s death, and the Romanian Patriarch was formally elected for the first time in 2007. According to the revised Orthodox Church Statutes, the election of the new Patriarch was to be organised within forty days and decided behind closed doors by an Ecclesiastical Church College of 161 clergy and laymen. Divisions within the Orthodox Church meant that competition was real – between the more reformist and ecumenical clergy gathered around the fifty-six-year-old Metropolitan of Moldova, Daniel Ciobotea, and the more conservative priests and monks supporting the eighty-six-year-old Metropolitan of Cluj, Bartolomeu Anania. After two rounds of balloting,

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on 12 September, Daniel became the new Patriarch with ninety-five votes compared to sixty-six obtained by Bartolomeu. The new, younger Patriarch was educated in France and Germany before teaching for eight years at the Ecumenical Institute in Switzerland. He was known for his administrative and managerial successes as Metropolitan of Moldova, an office he occupied from 1990 until 2007. In that position, he formed over 300 new parishes, built over 250 churches, launched the powerful religious network Trinitas, which included twenty-six radio stations, established a religious printing press and launched an internet-based shop selling religious artefacts.26 The significance of Daniel Ciobotea’s appointment as head of the Romanian majority church cannot be overstressed. First, the new Patriarch represents the reformist wing of the Orthodox Church, those priests, monks and theology professors who are pro-Western and are looking to the United Kingdom and Germany as possible models of church–state relations. Like Daniel, many of his supporters were educated in Western universities, have travelled extensively outside Romania and have direct knowledge of Roman Catholicism and Protestantism and the way in which these churches have positioned themselves vis-à-vis the state and have faced growing secularisation in consolidated democracies. They tend to be younger and more educated, so they can better speak the language of the growing faithful youth who have joined the Church in the last two decades, mostly as a result of religious instruction in public schools. As a man of the world, Daniel represents a departure from Teoctist and Anania, both of whom spent decades serving as monks before reaching the highest ecclesiastical office. The monastic tradition remains important for the Romanian Orthodox Church, but the vast majority of its faithful live outside the walls of the monasteries, leading lives within families and communities and facing problems quite different from those of the sheltered monks. Whereas Teoctist promoted a nationalist interpretation of history and insisted on rewriting church history to recast his protector, Patriarch Justinian Marina (1948–77), in a positive light, Daniel apparently has no such inclination. Last but not least, as younger members of the church leadership, Daniel and his collaborators are not burdened by association with the communist regime and the interwar fascist Iron Guard, a past that weighed heavily on Teoctist and Anania.27 True, since becoming Patriarch, Daniel has insisted that clergy be exempted from verification of their collaboration with the communist secret police, but the move stemmed from a desire to protect the Church’s public image more than the wish to hide the Church’s tainted past. Indeed, in early 1990 Daniel was part of the reformist Group for the Renewal of the Church which called on Teoctist and other church leaders to acknowledge and repent their past collaboration. Patriarch Daniel is expected to help the Church to modernise its discourse and to step up its social work, while simultaneously maintaining its traditions, protecting its general interests and multiplying its wealth. Only five years into his reign, Patriarch Daniel has promoted a new type of relationship with the state, conceptually different from the model cherished by his predecessor.

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Patriarch Teoctist insisted on formal recognition for the Orthodox Church as the official, national church and even proposed that bishops be appointed as senators for life, the same way they were treated during the interwar years (1918–45).28 For him, the Orthodox Church deserved a privileged place among religious denominations by virtue of its numbers and history more than for its social contribution, moral rectitude or courage in denouncing social inequality and communist oppression. Neither his education and experience (limited to monasticism and Romania) nor his personal convictions (privileging nationalism in the form of fascism in his youth and of national communism later on) allowed Teoctist to understand that his cherished established-church model was ill suited for the religious market of post-communist times. Since his appointment, Patriarch Daniel has no longer pursued Teoctist’s agenda, promoting instead a partnership (parteneriat) permitting the Orthodox Church to interact with the state on an equal footing and retaining some autonomy from the government, inspired by the German model with which he became familiar while a student. Equally important is the fact that Patriarch Daniel has understood the power of communication. Since coming to Bucharest, he has consolidated Trinitas, which now includes radio and television stations that broadcast throughout the country and online, finalised the church’s news agency, Basilica, which also has an internet presence, and continued the publication of Lumina, a daily dedicated to Orthodox issues.29 The Patriarch’s realisation of the power of communication also prompted him to insist on caution and restraint on the part of his collaborators when approached by the media, although in some circles this has been seen as the centralisation of power by the Patriarch. Whereas a diversity of opinions were voiced by church leaders under Patriarch Teoctist, many formerly vocal bishops and vicars have kept quiet, allowing the Patriarchate to voice the Church’s official position on different matters.

The church–state partnership During the first year after his appointment, Patriarch Daniel signed with the Liberal government of Prime Minister Călin Popescu-Tariceanu two important documents on behalf of the Orthodox Church. The Protocol of Cooperation in the Area of Social Inclusion (Protocolul de Cooperare în Domeniul Incluziunii Sociale) was finalised in October 2007, whereas the Protocol of Collaboration on the Medical and Spiritual Assistance Partnership (Protocolul de Colaborare privind Parteneriatul de Asistenţă Medicală şi Spiritualitate) was signed in summer 2008. Patriarch Teoctist had signed only one such protocol, in 1995, in an effort to promote cooperation with the government in the field of medical and spiritual assistance. By contrast, Patriarch Daniel seems to place significantly greater emphasis on the capacity of this bilateral instrument to make church–state relations more transparent, predictable and comprehensive.

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The Protocol of Cooperation in the Area of Social Inclusion is meant to simplify church–state collaboration procedures dealing with social projects, especially those benefiting disadvantaged persons and minorities. According to the document, church and state collaborate with the purpose of strengthening social inclusion in Romania, promoting public debates for improving the relevant legislative and institutional framework, identifying the key priorities and addressing the social needs of disadvantaged people and exchanging information and providing assistance. Collaboration was envisioned for ten years. If unchallenged by either side, the protocol would extend beyond that time frame on a yearly basis. The government, through the Ministry of Work, Family and Equality, pledged to include the Orthodox Church in the formulation of legislation in the field, in workshops and meetings on the topic of social inclusion and in the activity of the National Commission for Social Inclusion. It also declared its willingness to collaborate with the Church on joint projects, to inform the Church about possibilities for financial support from the government and to collaborate with the NGOs that operate as part of or with the blessing of the Orthodox Church. Among the government’s most important pledges was to offer spiritual assistance on the premises of governmental social service providers, and to support the hiring of graduates of social theology programmes from the faculties of Orthodox theology. In turn, the Church pledged to work with the government in providing social assistance to disadvantaged groups, to provide spiritual counselling through trained workers, to support the implementation of relevant government programmes and to offer the government information about its NGOs. Given its unparalleled reach into the rural and urban areas, the Church also vowed to identify (through its priests and social workers) and to communicate to the government information about persons in need.30 In signing a new Protocol of Collaboration on the Medical and Spiritual Assistance Partnership, the Orthodox Church and the government, through the Ministry of Health Care, agreed to coordinate and integrate their medical, social and spiritual assistance programmes. Collaboration aimed to achieve ‘a community that is healthy from a physical, mental, social, and spiritual point of view by increasing one’s awareness and involvement in actions of prevention and treatment of the practices that are damaging to one’s health’.31 The protocol sought to promote health through joint programmes that would raise the quality of life and a healthy life style; to facilitate medical, social and spiritual assistance in the country; and to identify key priorities and to address the medical and spiritual needs of those in distress. It envisaged regular meetings between church and state representatives, and compelled the government and the Church to assume obligations similar to those specified in the 2007 collaboration protocol. Upon the signing of the first protocol, Patriarch Daniel emphasised its significance. According to him, the document was called for by the new Law on Religion, which recognised denominations as the government’s social partners, and demonstrated the commitment of the Orthodox Church and the

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Romanian government to help the poor, orphans, children whose parents work abroad, the elderly and other disadvantaged groups. The social work of the Church is both a spiritual vocation and a practical necessity, and thus will be promoted vigorously in the future.32 While the two protocols were the most important such documents, they were not the only ones. Orthodox bishoprics and local governments signed similar documents. In 2008, for example, the Patriarch, as the Bucharest Metropolitan, signed a protocol with the Bucharest District 1 mayor’s office for the organisation of common programmes and activities and the restoration of local churches.33 In 2008, 2009 and 2010, the Bishopric of Giurgiu signed protocols with the Centre for Antidrug Prevention, Evaluation and Counselling for discouraging the use of alcohol, drugs and cigarettes by children; with the Giurgiu Department for Social Assistance and Child Protection for alleviating social problems like violence in the family, drug use and child abandonment; and with the Gendarmerie for the organisation of social, cultural and religious activities.34 These partnerships represent a significant departure from the Byzantine concept of harmony or symphonia the Church observed historically and from the established church model upheld during the interwar period and wished for in the 1990–2007 period. Symphonia recognised the Orthodox Church as first among denominations and a privileged partner for the state, but the church–state marriage it implemented was not a marriage of equals but rather a highly asymmetrical cohabitation, where the state in practice took precedence over the Church in all aspects of life.35 By contrast, the new partnerships recognised church and state as equals that share similar responsibilities and derive comparable benefits from mutual cooperation. Inspired by the position of the Orthodox Church in Greece, the Anglican Church in England and the Lutheran Church in Scandinavia, Patriarch Teoctist insisted on Romania adopting the established church model, which would have elevated his Church over other denominations by granting it a privileged political and constitutional – not social – position in the state.36 By contrast, Patriarch Daniel apparently believes that the partnership protocols can boost the social role of the Church, bring it closer to the people more than any political role could do and legally enshrine a privileged working relationship with the local and central government in the absence of constitutional guarantees for superiority over other denominations. In short, the partnership protocols retained the Orthodox Church’s organisational advantages without exposing the Church and the Romanian state to charges of infringing upon religious plurality.

Conclusion Understanding the RomOC and politics in the twenty-first century requires first going back to the country’s recent past and trying to make sense of how it came to bear on the present. This chapter has looked in particular at the collaboration of its higher clergy with the communist authorities,

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demonstrating that there was a reluctance on the part of the RomOC to acknowledge its past collaboration and make a clean break with its tainted past. This reluctance came to haunt the Church first post-communist Patriarch, because he himself was one of the main collaborators with the communists. However, the vast majority of the Orthodox faithful forgave and forgot that collaboration and in numerous polls ended up declaring that the RomOC is the most trusted institution in the country. In considering the Church’s involvement in party politics and the oscillating attitude of its Holy Synod about this, as well as the new Law on Religion the country adopted in 2006 (just days before its admission into the European Union), this chapter has shown how the post-communist landscape led to major transformations in the attitudes of the Orthodox Church’s leaders and priests towards politics. Moreover, the Law on Religion paved the way for Romania to be a Western-type secular democracy, without any state religion. While a few of the RomOC leaders voiced opposition toward their country’s integration in the European Union, most (including the Patriarch) supported the move and saw many benefits for their Church. Last, we argued that RomOC appears to have moved away from seeking the status of established (or state) church for itself to a model of collaboration with the state in the increasingly pluralistic religious landscape in democratic Romania at the beginning of this century. Thus, the traditional Byzantine model of harmony (symphonia) between the Orthodox Church and state was abandoned in favour of a German-inspired model of a partnership between equals.

Appendix 1

Religious leaders

• •

Patriarch Teoctist (Arăpaşu) (1915–2007), in office 1986–2007 Patriarch Daniel (Ciobotea) (1951–), in office 2007–.

2

Biography

Title: Patriarch of the Romanian Orthodox Church. Patriarch Daniel was born Dan Ilie Ciobotea in Dobreşti (Timiş county), Romania, on 22 July 1951. He studied at the Institute of Orthodox Theology in Sibiu, Romania (1970–4), and later at the Protestant theology faculty in Strasburg, France, where he obtained his doctorate in 1979 with a doctoral dissertation entitled: ‘Réflexion et vie chrétiennes aujourd’hui. Essai sur le rapport entre la théologie et la spiritualité’. Between 1980 and 1988, he was a lecturer in ecumenism at the Ecumenical Institute in Bossey, Switzerland, and the Institute’s Adjunct Director from 1986 to 1988. In 1987, he took monastic vows. In 1990 he became Archbishop of Iaşi and Metropolitan of Moldova and Bukovina. He has represented the Romanian

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Orthodox Church at numerous ecumenical encounters abroad. He was enthroned as the sixth Patriarch of the Romanian Orthodox Church on 30 September 2007. 3

Theological publications

• • • • •

Biserica Ortodoxă Română [Romanian Orthodox Church] Ortodoxia [Orthodoxy] Studii Teologice [Theological Studies] Vestitorul Ortodoxiei [Orthodox News] Chemarea Credinţei [Call of the Faith].

4

Congregations

Structure of the Church:37 39 bishoprics, 9 metropolitanates (3 of them are in the Diaspora); 13,527 parishes. Number of clergy and church buildings: 14,513 priests and deacons servicing 15,218 places of worship; 637 monasteries and sketes with more than 8,000 monks and nuns.38 5

Population

According to the 2002 Romanian census, the dominant religious group is the Romanian Orthodox Church, claiming the allegiance of some 86.7 per cent (or 18.8 million) of the country’s total population of 21.7 million. Other significant groups are the Roman Catholic Church (4.7 per cent), the Reform Church (3.2 per cent) and the Pentecostal Church (1.5 per cent). The Romanian Greek Catholic Church United with Rome represents just less than 1 per cent, Judaism under 0.1 per cent and atheists also under 0.1 per cent. Some 0.3 per cent of the population belongs to Islam.39 The Roman Catholic and Reform churches attract a lot of ethnic Hungarians living in Transylvania. The country’s Romanian majority represents 90 per cent of the total population, while the Hungarians and the Roma amount to 6.6 and 2.5 per cent, respectively.40

Notes 1 Official information about the 2002 census is available at the Romanian National Institute for Statistics, Populaţia după religie la recensământul din 2002 [Population According to Religion in the 2002 Census], http://recensamant.ro/datepr/tbl6.html (accessed 18 February 2010). 2 Sorin Sandor and Marciana Popescu, ‘Religiosity and Values in Romania’, Transylvanian Review of Administrative Sciences, 2008, 22, pp. 172–80. 3 Lavinia Stan and Lucian Turcescu, Religion and Politics in Post-Communist Romania, New York: Oxford University Press, 2007, pp. 65–89. 4 Romania’s handicap is demonstrated by Lavinia Stan (ed.), Transitional Justice in Eastern Europe and the Former Soviet Union, New York: Routledge, 2009, pp. 128–51.

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See also Lucian Leustean, Orthodoxy and the Cold War: Religion and Political Power in Romania, 1947–65, New York: Macmillan, 2009; Cristian Romocea, Church and State: Religion Nationalism and State Identification in Post-Communist Romania, New York: Continuum, 2011; Lavinia Stan, ‘Access to Securitate Files: The Trials and Tribulations of a Romanian Law’, East European Politics and Societies, 2002, 16 (1), 55–90, Lavinia Stan, ‘Moral Cleansing Romanian Style’, Problems of PostCommunism, 2002, 49 (4), 52–62; Dennis Deletant, Ceauşescu and the Securitate: Coercion and Dissent in Romania 1965–1989, Armonk, NY: M. E. Sharpe, 1996; Olivier Gillet, Religion et nationalism: L’ideologie de l’Église orthodoxe roumaine sous le régime communiste, Brussels: Éditions de l’Université de Bruxelles, 1997. Law on File Access 187 of December 1999, Monitorul Oficial [Official Monitor], no. 603 (9 December 1999). After 1989, RomOC’s leadership encouraged historical revisionism and even appointed an ‘official’ historical commission to write the history of the RomOC under communism and thus disprove allegations raised by independent historians that the Church did nothing but collaborate for most of the communist times. For an authoritative study documenting RomOC’s communist-era collaboration, see Cristian Vasile, Biserica Ortodoxă Română în Primul Deceniu Comunist [The Romanian Orthodox Church in the First Communist Decade], Bucharest: Curtea Veche, 2005, and Vladimir Tismaneanu, Dorin Dobrincu and Cristian Vasile, Comisia Prezidenţială pentru Analiza Dictaturii Comuniste din Romania. Raport Final [The Presidential Commission for Analysis of the Communist Dictatorship in Romania. Final Report], Bucharest: Humanitas, 2007. RomOC has defended the work of George Enache, Radu Preda, Radu Carp and a number of other historians who argued that, contrary to what the archival documents attest to and the Romanian people lived through, the Church, its leaders and its priests openly collaborated with the communist regime only to hide their own dissidence and opposition. The instances of dissidence are few, but they are seen as far outweighing those of collaboration. See, for example, George Enache, Ortodoxie şi Putere Politică în România Contemporană [Orthodoxy and Political Power in Contemporary Romania], Bucharest: Nemira, 2005, and George-Eugen Enache et al., ‘Biserica Ortodoxă Română în anii regimului communist: Observaţii pe marginea capitolului dedicate cultelor din Raportul final al Comisiei prezidenţiale pentru analiza dictaturii comuniste din România’ [The Romanian Orthodox Church during the Communist Regime. Observations Regarding the Chapter on Religious Confession in the Final Report of the Presidential Commission for Analysis of the Communist Dictatorship in Romania], Studii Teologice [Theological Studies], 3rd series, April–June 2009, 5 (2), 7–104. Stan and Turcescu, Religion and Politics in Post-Communist Romania, p. 72. Ibid., pp. 72–3. We were able to include the newer information in the Romanian translation of our book, Lavinia Stan and Lucian Turcescu, Religie şi Politică în România postcomunistă, Bucharest: Curtea Veche, 2010, p. 162. CNSAS Decision No. 2410/28 August 2007. August 2007. Online at: http://www. cnsas.ro (accessed 15 March 2008). Tudor Flueras, ‘Preoţii informatori erau un organ de sondare a opiniei publice’ [Informer Priests Were a Means of Knowing Public Opinion], Evenimentul zilei [Daily News], 14 June 1999. Emergency Ordinance for ensuring the continuity of some activities of the National Council for the Study of the Archives of the Securitate no. 1 of 2008. Monitorul Oficial, part I, no. 95, 6 February 2008. Online at: http://www.dreptonline.ro/legislatie/ordonanta_continuarea_activitatii_#32#cnsas_1_2008.php (accessed 25 October 2009).

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13 Law 293 of 2008 was published in the Monitorul Oficial no. 800 (28 November 2008) and is available at http://www.lege-online.ro/lr-LEGE-293-2008-(99667). html (accessed 18 February 2014). ‘BOR va respecta legea privind accesul la propriul dosar si deconspirarea Securitatii’ [The Romanian Orthodox Church Will Respect the Law Regarding Access to Personal Files and Securitate Disclosure], Mediafax, 16 April 2008. Online at: http://www.mediafax.ro/social/ bor-va-respecta-legea-privindaccesul-la-propriul-dosar-si-deconspirarea-securitatii-2559986 (accessed 15 October 2009). 14 Lavinia Stan and Lucian Turcescu, ‘Pulpits, Ballots and Party Cards: Religion and Elections in Romania’, Religion, State and Society, 2005, 33 (4), 347–66. 15 ‘Ioan Aurel Rus demisionează din toate funcţiile deţinute în PRM’ [Ioan Aurel Rus Resigns from all Positions in PRM], Mesagerul de Bistrita-Nasaud [Messanger of Bistrita-Nasaud], 23 September 2011. Online at: http://www.ziare.com/bistrita/ stiri-actualitate/ioan-aurel-rus-demisioneaza-din-toate-functiile-detinute-inprm-2489204 (accessed 12 November 2011). 16 ‘Preoţii care se înscriu într-un partid sau candidează la primării riscă să fie excluşi din preoţie’ [The Clergy who Enrol in a Party or Stand for City Concil Positions Should be Excluded from the Priesthood], Mediafax, 29 May 2008. Online at: http://www.mediafax.ro/social/preotii-care-se-inscriu-intr-un-partid-sau-candideaza-la-primarii-risca-sa-fie-exclusi-din-preotie-2670110 (accessed 12 November 2011). 17 ‘Disputa între Patriarhie şi Mitropolia Clujului pe tema preoţilor-candidati la alegerile locale’ [The Dispute between the Patriarchate and the Cluj Metropolitanate Regarding Candidate Clergy in Local Elections], Hotnews, 13 March 2008. Online at: http://www.hotnews.ro/stiri-esential-2572264-disputa-intre-patriarhie-mitropolia-clujului-tema-preotilor-candidati-alegerile-locale.htm (accessed 25 March 2010). 18 Lavinia Stan and Lucian Turcescu, ‘Politics, National Symbols and the Romanian Orthodox Cathedral’, Europe-Asia Studies, 2006, 58 (3), 1119–39. 19 See also Adriana Duţulescu, ‘Zeus prigoneşte Biserica: Ruptura între Cotroceni şi Patriarhie’ [Zeus Oppresses the Church. The Rift between Cotroceni and Patriarchate], Jurnalul Naţional [National Journal], 24 September 2009. 20 Lavinia Stan and Razvan Zaharia, ‘Romania’, European Journal of Political Research, 2010, 49 (7), 1096–9. 21 The slogan is posted on the party website. See Partidul Noua Generaţie – Creştin Democrat (The New Generation Party – Christian Democrat), http://www.png.ro (accessed 28 April 2010). 22 Decree No. 177 of 1948. ‘Pentru regimul general al cultelor religioase, decretul nr. 177/1948’ [General Regime of Religious Confessions, no 177/1948], Monitorul Oficial al României, 3 September 1948. Online at: http://legislatie.resurse-pentrudemocratie.org/177_1948.php (accessed 30 April 2010). For a discussion of the post-communist legislative framework in Romania pertaining to religion, see Lavinia Stan and Lucian Turcescu, Church, State, and Democracy in Expanding Europe, New York: Oxford University Press, 2011, pp. 138–41, 182–95. 23 Secretariatul de Stat pentru Culte, Legea nr. 489/2006: Privind libertatea religioasă şi regimul general al cultelor. Scurt istoric [State Secretariat for Cults. Law no 489/2006: On Religious Liberty and the General Regime of Cults], available at: http://www.culte.ro/DocumenteHtml.aspx?id=1663 (accessed 30 April 2010). 24 Lavinia Stan and Lucian Turcescu, ‘The Romanian Orthodox Church and PostCommunist Democratization’, Europe-Asia Studies, 2000, 52 (8), p. 1470. 25 Roxana Dumitriu, ‘Românii au cea mai multa încredere în Biserică şi Primărie’ [Romanians have Highest Trust in Church and City Hall], Evenimentul Zilei, 29

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27 28

29

30

31

32 33

34

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June 2008. Online at: http://www.evz.ro/detalii/stiri/romanii-au-cea-mai-mareincredere-in-biserica-si-primarie-810134.html (accessed 4 May 2010). Horaţiu Ardelean, ‘Prea Fericitul Daniel si prea nefericitul sau frate’ [His Highness Daniel and Not His Highness Brother], Bănăţeanul, 7 July 2009. Online at: http:// banateanul.gandul.info/banatul/arhiva-banateanul-prea-fericitul-daniel-si-preanefericitul-sau-frate-3726861 (accessed May 4, 2010). Lavinia Stan and Lucian Turcescu, ‘The Devil’s Confessors: Priests, Communists, Spies and Informers’, East European Politics and Societies, 2005, 19 (3), 655–85. Bartolomeu Anania, Memorii [Memoirs], Bucharest: Polirom, 2008. For pertinent accounts of the relations between RomOC and the state in the interwar period, see Mirel Bănică, Biserica ortodoxă, stat şi societate în anii ’30 [The Orthodox Church, State and Society in the 1930s], Iaşi, Romania: Polirom, 2007, and Romocea, Church and State. Elvira Gheorghiţă, ‘Un an de frământări în Biserica Ortodoxă, după moartea Patriarhului Teoctist’ [A Year of Unrest in the Orthodox Church after the Death of Patriarcht Teoctist], Mediafax, 25 July 2008. Online at: http://www.mediafax. ro/main-story/focus-un-an-de-framantari-in-biserica-ortodoxa-dupa-moarteapatriarhului-teoctist-2815394 (accessed 4 May 2010). ‘Protocol de Cooperare în Domeniul Incluziunii Sociale între Guvernul României şi Patriarhia României’ [Protocol between Romanian Government and the Romanian Patriarchate in the Area of Social Inclusion], 2 October 2007. Online at: http://www.patriarhia ro/ro/opera_social_filantropica/biroul_pentru_asistenta_ social_filatropica_2.html (accessed 4 May 2010). ‘Protocol de Cooperare privind Parteneriatul de Asistenţă Medicală şi Spirituală’ [Protocol of Collaboration on the Medical and Spiritual Assistance Partnership], 25 July 2008. Online at: http://www.basilica.ro/_upload/doc/1216886201076490400. pdf (accessed 4 May 2010). Patriarch Daniel Ciobotea, ‘Cuvânt al Prea Fericitului Patriarh Daniel’ [Speech of His Highness Patriarch Daniel], 12 October 2008. Unpublished manuscript in authors’ possession. ‘Protocol de Parteneriat între Patriarhia Română, Arhiepiscopia Bucureştiului şi Consiliul Local al Sectorului 1 Capitală’ [Protocol of Partnership between the Romanian Patriarchate, the Archbishopric of Bucharest and Bucharest District 1 Mayor’s Office], 13 November 2008. Online at: http://www.basilica.ro/ro/stiri/ protocol_de_parteneriat_intre_patrarhia_romana_arhiepiscopia_bucurestilor_ sI_consiliul_local_al_sectorului_1_capitala.html (accessed 4 May 2010). ‘Protocol de Cooperare între Episcopia Giurgiului şi Centrul de Prevenire, Evaluare şi Consiliere Antidrog Giurgiu’ (31 March 2008) [Protocol of Cooperation between the Bishopric of Giurgiu and the Giurgiu Centre for Antidrug Prevention, Evaluation and Counselling]. Online at: http://www.basilica.ro/ro/stiri/protocol_ de_cooperare_intre_episcopia_giurgiului_si_centrul_de_prevenire_evaluare_si_ consiliere_antidrog_giurgiu_html (accessed 4 May 2010); ‘Protocol de Colaborare in domeniul asistentei sociale la Giurgiu’ [Protocol of Cooperation in the Areas of Social Assistance in Giurgiu], Radio Trinitas, 5 August 2009. Online at: http:// www.basilica.ro/ro/stiri/protocol_de_colaborare_in_domeniul_asistentei_sociale_ la_giurgiu.html (accessed 4 May 2010); ‘Parteneriat in organizarea de activitati social-culturale si religioase la Giurgiu’ [Partnership Regarding Religious and Social-Cultural Activities in Giurgiu], 2010. Online at: http://www.basilica.ro/ro/ stiri/parteneriat_in_organizarea_de_activitati_social_culturale_si_religioase_la_ giurgiu.html (accessed 4 May 2010). Stan and Turcescu, Religion and Politics in Post-Communist Romania, p. 25. Ibid., pp. 29–32. See also Secretary of State for Religious Denominations Laurenţiu Tănase, personal interview by Lucian Turcescu, Bucharest, 9 June 2004; Daniel

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40

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Barbu, Şapte teme de politică românească [Seven Themes of Romanian Politics], Bucharest: Antet, 1997, p. 119. Data from http://www.patriarhia.ro/ro/structura_bor/organizarea_administrativa. html (accessed 4 May 2010). This number is from http://www.patriarhia.ro/en/scurta_prezentare_en.html (accessed 4 May 2010). Official information about the 2002 census is available at the Romanian National Institute for Statistics, Populaţia după religie la recensământul din 2002 [Population According to Religion in the 2002 Census], http://recensamant.ro/datepr/tbl6.html (accessed 18 February 2010). Sorin Sandor and Marciana Popescu, ‘Religiosity and Values in Romania’, Transylvanian Review of Administrative Sciences, 2008, 22, 172–80.

6

The Bulgarian Orthodox Church Daniela Kalkandjieva

The contemporary development of the Bulgarian Orthodox Church (BOC) has been conditioned by two main events – the fall of communism and the process of Eurointegration. The first wiped out the monopoly of militant atheism, while the second promoted pluralism in society. Both provoked a series of changes in the Church’s legal status that started with the introduction of a new Constitution in 1991 and ended with the adoption of the Denominations Act of 2002. The implementation of these changes, however, has been complicated as it needs to deal with the tensions between the traditional notion of the Bulgarian Orthodox Church as a saviour of the Bulgarian nation and state over many centuries and evidence of the cooperation of its hierarchy with the communist regime. At the same time, the BOC’s post-1989 development has revealed important non-religious aspects of this institution connected with its economic potential and the geo-political impact of its international activities. All of these issues are analysed in this chapter.

The Church’s legal status Since the rebirth of the Bulgarian Orthodox Church in 1870 its legal status has undergone several stages. In the Ottoman Empire it was recognised as one of the ethno-religious minorities (millets) that enjoyed internal autonomy under the Sultan’s rule. After the Liberation of Bulgaria (1878) Eastern Orthodoxy was declared the dominant religion in the country (Tarnovo Constitution, Article 37). This situation was radically changed in 1947, when the communist rulers imposed the Dimitrov Constitution that separated the church from the state (Article 78). The same act removed the study of religion from state schools (Article 79) and guaranteed exclusive rights of the new regime in youth education (Article 77). Similarly, marriage and the family were put under state control (Article 76). These restrictions were further developed by the 1971 Constitution that introduced the freedom of anti-religious propaganda (Article 53 §1) as a tool to remove religion not only from the public, but also from the private life of people. The implementation of the above mentioned constitutional principles was realised through the Law of Religious Denominations, adopted in 1949,

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which gave rights to the state authorities to grant and withdraw the status of judicial entity to religious denominations (Article 6), while making the religious leaderships responsible to the communist party-state (Article 9). The same bill forbade foreign citizens from taking up office in local religious institutions (Article 10). Central state authorities were able to dismiss clerics under the pretext that they had violated national legislation, public order and social morals (Article 12). The financial (Article 13) and educational (Article 14) activities of religious denominations also came under state control. No religious publications were possible without being cleared by the state authorities (Article 15). At the same time, the law deprived religious denominations of the right to set up and maintain charitable institutions (Article 21) and to take care of the upbringing of children (Article 20). Communication between religious denominations and their headquarters or branches abroad was permitted only with state consent (Articles 22–25). Finally, Article 31 obliged religious denominations to submit lists of the names of their clerics and only those who were not objected to by the state authorities were able to preserve their positions. After the adoption of the first post-communist Constitution (1991) the Law on Religion Denominations came into question. On 16 April 1992, its articles 12, 14, 15, 22 and 31 were attacked by Bulgarian parliamentary deputies before the Constitutional Court, which, in June, issued Judgment No. 5 that declared as null and void only two of the contested articles (12 and 22) while preserving the others. Meanwhile, it declared as anti-constitutional articles 10, 18, 20, 21 and 23.1 Despite the amendments religious minorities continued to have concerns about the text of Article 13 §3 of the 1991 Constitution that proclaimed Eastern Orthodox Christianity ‘the traditional religion in the Republic of Bulgaria’. In 1998, this problem was solved by the Constitutional Court, which clarified: ‘[T]he traditional nature of Eastern Orthodoxy expresses its cultural and historical role and meaning for the Bulgarian state as well as its present significance for state life that has a great impact especially on the system of official holidays (all Sundays, Easter, Christmas).’2 The next step in shaping the BOC’s post-communist status was taken on 29 December 2002, when Parliament voted the new Religious Denominations Act. At first glance, it repeated Article 13 §3 of the 1991 Constitution. However, it made an important amendment: the Constitution mentions Eastern Orthodoxy, while the Act’s preamble refers to ‘the special and traditional role of the Bulgarian Orthodox Church in the history of Bulgaria to establish and develop its spirituality and culture’.3 Thus it limits the broader notion of Orthodoxy as religion to a particular religious institution. This transformation is clearly articulated in Article 10 §1 of the Act, which reads: Eastern Orthodoxy is the traditional denomination in the Republic of Bulgaria. It has played a historical role for the Bulgarian State and has current meaning for state life. Its spokesman and representative is the autocephalous Bulgarian Orthodox Church that under the name

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Daniela Kalkandjieva Patriarchate is the legitimate successor of the Bulgarian Exarchate and is a member of the United, Holy, Ecumenical and Apostolic Church. It is governed by the Holy Synod and represented by the Bulgarian Patriarch, who is also the Metropolitan of Sofia.4

The second paragraph of Article 10 proclaims the Church as a legal entity. Although it is followed by guarantees that this recognition shall not serve as grounds for granting privileges, it has provoked fears among religious minorities (articles 14–20). Article 10 was therefore attacked before the Constitutional Court ‘as incompatible with the Constitution and inconsistent with the European Convention for the Protection of Human Rights and Fundamental Freedoms and the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights’.5 Significantly, the majority of judges who attended the corresponding Constitutional Court session did not support Article 10, but lacking a sufficient number of votes they were not able to declare its text contradictory to the Constitution. As a result, the Court’s Judgment No. 12/2003 had no effect on the Denominations Act. Meanwhile, the BOC succeeded in benefiting from Article 10. In 2005, the Church was exempted from VAT and other state taxes by the Minister of Finance, while the same was not the case for other religious denominations.6 Article 10 also proved to be beneficial for one of the two synods that appeared after the split in the BOC’s leadership in 1992.

The schism in the Bulgarian Orthodox Church Although the end of militant atheism provoked a religious revival, it soon lost its initial speed. In March 1992, the Bulgarian Orthodox Church fell into a crisis when documents appeared suggesting that the election of Patriarch Maxim (1971) had infringed Orthodox canons, Church Statutes (1951) and the Law of Religious Denominations (1949).7 His elevation to the patriarchal throne had been sanctioned by the Politburo of the Central Committee of the Bulgarian Communist Party on 8 March 1971, i.e. the day after the death of the previous patriarch.8 In this way, according to church doctrine, the Holy Apostles’ Canon XXX that reads: ‘If any bishop obtain possession of a church by the aid of the temporal [secular] powers, let him be disposed and excommunicated, and all who communicate with him’ was violated.9 Meanwhile, an investigation of his patriarchal election revealed deviations from the requirements of the then acting Church Statutes. It was also discovered that the Committee for the Affairs of the Bulgarian Orthodox Church and Religious Cults had not registered Patriarch Maxim as the BOC’s leader, which was a violation of Article 16 of the Law of Religious Denominations. On these grounds, on 9 March 1992, the Directorate of Religious Affairs at the Council of Ministers issued Decision No. 92 that declared the illegitimacy of Patriarch Maxim, and soon afterwards several metropolitans set up their own administration that did not recognise him as the BOC’s canonical leader.10 On 25 May 1992, the Director of Religious Denominations appointed one

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of the rebellious metropolitans, Pimen of Nevrokop, as the chairman of the Provisional Synodal Government to administer the Orthodox Church until the convocation of a Church-People’s Council – the only body eligible to solve the problem. In response, Patriarch Maxim objected to this decision before the Supreme Court.11 The Court, however, issued a judgment that satisfied neither of the rivalling church administrations. It declined Maxim’s appeal and declared the appointment of a Provisional Synod by the Directorate of Religious Denominations as an act beyond its competence.12 As a result, the BOC’s development over the next years was influenced by this conflict between the two synods. The timing of the 1992 schism is significant, although it is usually omitted in most analyses. In fact, its start coincided with the restitution of church property nationalised under communism.13 It is also often omitted that this restitution was not limited to the return of churches and movable items necessary for religious services, but included arable lands, forests and industries. In fact no other former communist state has undertaken such total restitution. It is also important to notice the parallel with the Muslim community in Bulgaria, the other religious denomination that benefited most from the all-embracing property return and whose leadership also split in 1992.14 The property issue, therefore, remains understudied when the schism of the BOC is analysed. At the same time, the Alternative Synod has presented its conflict with Patriarch Maxim as a fight for the liberation of the BOC from the communist legacy. During the years that followed, the BOC’s division followed the model of political polarisation in the country: Maxim’s Synod was protected by the former communists, who swiftly changed their name to socialists, while the Alternative Synod was supported by the Union of Democratic Forces (UDF). Thus, the former benefited from the restitution when socialists were in power, while the latter benefited under the UDF government.15 In July 1996, the rebellious metropolitans convoked a Church Council that declared Pimen of Nevrokop as Patriarch; however, they were under pressure from the then-ruling socialists. Their situation improved upon the election of the democrat Peter Stoyanov as Bulgarian President, who took his oath before Metropolitan Pimen (22 January 1997), and stabilised several months later, when the UDF government of Ivan Kostov was established. Its clerics were presented at major state holidays, while those of Patriarch Maxim disappeared from the scene. In 1998, however, the UDF government withdrew its support for Patriarch Pimen as evidence appeared that metropolitans from his synod had also collaborated with the totalitarian regime. In May 1998, a group of laymen submitted a petition to President Stoyanov to assist in the unification of the two synods. Maxim’s Synod, however, wrecked this plan by proposing an ‘ecclesiastical solution’ and convoked a ‘Pan-Orthodox Council’ in Sofia (30 September–1 October 1998).16 The forum was attended by the patriarchs of Constantinople, Alexandria, Antioch, Moscow, Romania and Serbia as well as other lower-ranking clergy from all Orthodox churches and was perceived as an act of recognition of the

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canonical leadership of Patriarch Maxim. Under these circumstances, fourteen bishops of the Alternative Synod, including Patriarch Pimen, returned under the jurisdiction of Patriarch Maxim. Most of them, however, were about to lose their rights as diocesan hierarchs because they were appointed to lower administrative offices.17 Therefore, on 8 October, Pimen’s Synod was restored, an initiative, however, which allowed Maxim’s Synod to declare its organisation as schismatic. On 9–10 November 1998, the Alternative Synod organised an ‘Extraordinary Church-People’s Council’, attended by 11 metropolitans, 384 priests and 730 laymen, but no foreign hierarchs or clergy. This forum took responsibility for the dismissal of Patriarch Maxim, rejected the 1951 Church Statutes as unlawfully imposed by the communist regime and adopted new ones. In April 1999, Patriarch Pimen died and his place was taken by Metropolitan Inokentiy of Sofia. As a result of these developments, on 18 October 2000, the Supreme Administrative Court passed Decision No. 6300 which accepted that in the course of the conflict ‘two religious organisations bearing the name Bulgarian Orthodox Church’ had appeared and concluded that ‘the Church presided over by Patriarch Maxim had no standing to appeal against decisions concerning the Church’ presented by the Alternative Synod.18 On these grounds Inokentiy was registered as a Metropolitan of Sofia and some churches and properties of Maxim’s Synod were transferred to the Alternative Synod. After the establishment of the government of the former Bulgarian King Simeon Saxe-Coburg-Gotha (2001), Patriarch Maxim finally succeeded in stabilising his positions. The new authorities proposed a solution to the schism by advancing a Religious Denominations Act that promoted the civil legitimacy of Maxim’s Synod on the grounds of the decisions of the PanOrthodox Council (1998).19 Therefore, the text of Article 10 §1 included a detailed inscription of who represents the Bulgarian Orthodox Church: ‘the Bulgarian Patriarch, who is also the Metropolitan of Sofia’.20 Bearing in mind that by that time the Alternative Synod was presided over by Metropolitan Inokentiy of Sofia, who had no patriarchal authority, it becomes clear who benefited from the paragraph quoted. In addition the new bill confirmed that the Alternative Synod, whose hierarchy had left the canonical Church, had no right to use the name ‘Bulgarian Orthodox Church’ or to own its property. According to paragraph 3 of its ‘Transitory and Final Provisions’: Persons, who, at the time of introducing this bill, have separated themselves from the registered religious institution in violation of its statutes, could not use an identical name or use or manage property of the same institution.21 Challenges to the Religious Denominations Act before the Constitutional Court had no success. Although six out of its twelve judges found that the text of Article 10 §1 was ‘incompatible with the Constitution and inconsistent with the European Convention on Human Rights’, it remained unchanged

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because the number of their votes did not constitute a sufficient majority according to the ‘Regulations on the Constitutional Court’s Organization and Activities’.22 Having no other choice, the Alternative Synod of Metropolitan Inokentiy referred to the European Court of Human Rights (ECHR) in Strasburg (Application No. 412/03). Meanwhile the Religious Denominations Act was used by the Chief Prosecutor of Bulgaria to order police raids against this Synod on 21 July 2004. As a result, its properties were confiscated and transferred to Patriarch Maxim. This violation provoked the protests of many human rights organisations. On 7 September 2004, the Parliamentary Assembly of the Council of Europe (PACE) issued Resolution No. 1390 that criticised Article 10 §1 as one that ‘intended to settle the dispute between Maxim and Inokentiy in favour of the former’.23 It recommended Bulgarian authorities ‘to ensure that the special recognition given to Eastern Orthodoxy does not lead to the discrimination of other religions for practical purposes such as state or municipal support, restitution of property, treatment of taxation matters, teaching of religion, etc.’.24 It also proposed a change of Article 10 §2 that granted ex lege recognition solely to Maxim’s Synod. According to the PACE, the BOC would be subject ‘to the same registration requirements as other religious communities’.25 Bulgarian authorities, however, did not make any amendments. In 2007, the Court in Strasburg passed its admissibility decision on the case of Metropolitan Inokentiy, holding that the Bulgarian State had violated Article 9 of the European Convention of Human Rights.26 The same conclusion was confirmed in its merits (22 January 2009) and Grand Chamber’s (18 September 2010) judgments. None of them, however, met the expectations of Bulgarians for an effective resolution of the church schism. The ECHR did not answer the question of which is the legitimate leadership of the BOC. Instead it declared that: [A]lthough the ex lege recognition of the Church cannot be seen as incompatible with Article 9 in principle, its introduction in a time of deep division was tantamount to forcing the believers to accept a single leadership against their will. Those provisions of the 2002 Act – still in force – continue to generate legal uncertainty, as can be seen from the contradictory judicial decisions that have been adopted and the events that have unfolded since the Act’s entry into force.27 The ECHR also proposed amendments to the Religious Denominations Act (2002) ‘to ensure that leadership conflicts in religious communities are resolved by the religious community concerned and that disputes about the civil consequences of such conflicts are decided by the courts’. However, this did not solve the property conflict. In the Court’s view: [T]he massive evictions carried out in July 2004 on the prosecutors’ orders cannot be considered lawful, with regard to the provisions of the

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Daniela Kalkandjieva Bulgarian Constitution on the freedom of religion, the lack of a clear basis to identify the ‘valid’ leadership of the Church … purported to ‘resolve’ private disputes, including those concerning property, which fall under the jurisdiction of the courts.28

This judgment was presented by the official Bulgarian media as a victory for Patriarch Maxim over the Alternative Synod. Meanwhile, many clerics left the latter in order to earn their living. Some returned to Patriarch Maxim, but there were also a few clerics who moved to Metropolitan Inokentiy.29

Maxim’s Synod and church property The Religious Denominations Act (2002) opened a new stage in the BOC’s development. Under its provisions, the Bulgarian Orthodox Church has been entirely associated with Patriarch Maxim, while Metropolitan Inokentiy has been labelled as a leader of schismatics outside the canonical church. Maxim’s Synod now concentrated its efforts on the management of the restored property, estimated at €5 billion.30 The Church, however, did not have the necessary experts for its management and began to lease the newly obtained estates to firms and individuals. Such deals were especially attractive for the grey sector ‘businessmen’ because the transactions made by registered religious denominations ‘shall not be considered commercial within the meaning of the Commerce Act’ (Religious Denominations Act, Article 23 §§1 and 2). Moreover, the Church’s partners were not required to certify the origin of their financial resources. As a result, the rented properties were often transferred to third parties. In this way, the deals were always beneficial for the first leaseholders of the church properties, but neither the Church as a lender nor the third parties had sufficient guarantees of applying legislation. Therefore, sometimes Maxim’s Synod did not receive the rent for its property.31 Such abuses seriously undermined the prestige of the Orthodox hierarchy in society. The management put in place by Maxim’s Synod after 2004, when it had acquired full control over all restored church possessions, has disclosed another set of problems which were provoked by the discrepancy between the centralised return of property and its decentralised management. In fact only a small part of the restored estates is administrated by Maxim’s Synod. It includes assets that belong to the so-called stavropigias that are not subject to any diocesan hierarch but to the central church authorities, for example the Rila Monastery. Most restored estates are under the control of the metropolitan in whose diocese they are located. However, neither the Church Statutes of 1951 nor the new Church Statutes of 2008 contain detailed norms about the responsibilities of the central and diocesan Church authorities in the sphere of property management. According to these Statutes, this task is entrusted to the Supreme Church Board for stavropigia and to diocesan boards for the individual eparchies. As chairmen of these boards, metropolitans de facto

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have the monopoly over the corresponding church properties.32 At the same time, the Church Statutes do not oblige the Synod or the diocesan hierarchs to inform their flock about how they have used church property or the income derived from it. As a result, metropolitans are able to conclude deals of dubious benefit to the Church. To improve this situation, the new Church Statutes (2008) foresee the establishment of a unified synodal register as well as diocesan ones (Article 249). Only metropolitans have full access to this information, while the ordinary priests and laymen are left ignorant about the economic status of their own Church (Article 252). Meanwhile, the demonstration of wealth and luxury by Orthodox hierarchs is provoking a growing criticism in society. Voices of protest have appeared among priests as their elementary social needs are often neglected by their diocesan hierarchs; for example, until 2009 it was a common practice for metropolitans to pay their clergy in candles.33 Meanwhile, Maxim’s Synod has not paid priests’ social insurance for a number of years. According to information announced in July 2010, it owes about BGN 2.5 million (€1.75 million) to the pension fund and the health insurance fund.34 To solve this problem a Syndicate of Priests and Church Officials was established at the National Confederation of Labour ‘Podkrepa’ on 10 December 2010. It was immediately declared unlawful by Maxim’s Synod, which claimed that the establishment of a Priest’s Syndicate infringed the Constitution, namely the principle of separation of church and state (Article 13 §2) and the ban on the use of religion for political ends (Article 14 §4). The metropolitans also referred to the Church Statutes (2008) that forbid priests to apply for and to occupy any positions as European, state or municipal officials or to participate in politics. They insisted that nobody who is a servant of God can be subject to labour law but should observe only canons. As such priests are allowed to appeal only to their diocesan hierarch, ecclesiastical court and priests’ conferences, but have no right to refer to secular authorities and courts. The Synod declared that by taking the oath to God upon his ordination each priest becomes ineligible to enter into labour relations with his metropolitan. These objections did not stop the activities of the National Syndicate of Priests and Church Servants (Natsionalen sindikat na sveshteno i tsarkovnosluzhitelite), known as the Priests’ Syndicate. In January 2011, the Chairman of the Confederation of Labour Podkrepa (Konfederatsia na truda Podkrepa) asked the Minister of Labour and Social Policy to examine the ways in which the BOC leadership applied labour and insurance laws.35 In order to soften the conflict the metropolitans initiated conferences for priests from their dioceses to discuss their salaries.36 Meanwhile, in May 2011 the Priests’ Syndicate presented documents showing that only 663 out of 1,100 clerics (metropolitans, non-diocesan bishops, priests, monks and nuns) of the Bulgarian Orthodox Church had social insurance.37 To some extent this failure of Maxim’s Synod can be explained by the lack of such experience under communism, when Orthodox clergy were not treated as employees on labour contracts.38 The

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post-1989 changes in the Church’s status and the restoration of its property, however, made such behaviour inexcusable. Moreover, the inability of the church hierarchy to meet the social expenditures of its clergy questions the meaning of the restitution of such assets as arable lands or forests that neither assist the Church’s liturgical and sacramental life nor are able to secure priests’ salaries. Meanwhile, the lack of transparency and accountability about the metropolitans’ incomes from such estates has comparably turned them into contemporary feudal lords.

Maxim’s Synod in action By recognising Patriarch Maxim as the BOC’s legitimate leader the new religious bill eliminated his rival. In this way, Maxim’s Synod became the highest authority on Orthodoxy-related problems. In this respect, it took special measures for the consolidation of all Bulgarians affiliated with Eastern Orthodoxy, the first of which concerned youth evangelisation. Since 1997, when ‘Religion’ was introduced as a facultative discipline in Bulgarian public schools, it has not significantly developed. During the strenuous battle between the two church leaderships its study remained limited to elementary schools. The new Denominations Act allowed Maxim’s Synod to exert pressure over the Ministry of Education and the facultative study of religion was expanded to all school grades – from the first to the twelfth. Despite these efforts, less than 2 per cent of all Bulgarian students opted for religious classes. Therefore, in 2008 the Orthodox hierarchs tried to change the situation by advancing a new concept for the study of religion that would be mandatory for all students.39 Still it had no success. The weak social support for this initiative is an outcome of a lack of strong traditions in religious education. During the period of the Ottoman conquest of Bulgaria from 1396 to 1870 there was no Bulgarian Orthodox Church to organise the religious instruction of its flock in its native language. During the Third Bulgarian Kingdom (1878–1946), the study of religion was severely restricted in state schools. Generally, it was taught one hour a week in the fourth grade of elementary school and was mandatory only for Orthodox Bulgarians. It was extended to all stages of state school (elementary, pre-gymnasium and gymnasium) for a short time during the Second World War, but was not introduced in all grades. Moreover, the religious curricula were under the control of the Ministry of Education despite the constitutional provisions about Orthodoxy as the dominant religion in Bulgaria. When the communists came to power in September 1944, the study of religion was removed from state schools and the Church was banned from organising parochial Sunday schools. This history, together with the constitutional principles of church– state separation and freedom of religion, including one’s right to change religion or not to believe, was neglected by Maxim’s Synod in 2008, which insisted on mandatory religious instruction in all grades of public school and full control over the curricula.

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Other Synodal activities concerned the BOC’s relations with non-Orthodox communities at the domestic and international levels. After the Cold War the Bulgarian Orthodox Church was unable to preserve its previous attitude towards Western Christianity. Its criticism of American evangelical churches and the Vatican lost their previous ideological fervour and attenuated, emphasising instead the theological weakness of the non-Orthodox forms of Christianity. This new religious policy was demonstrated by the Bulgarian Orthodox Church in 1998, when it left the World Council of Churches and the Conference of European Churches. However, its negative attitude to nonOrthodox Christianity had to take into account Bulgaria’s Eurointegration. In this respect, Maxim’s Synod developed a more specific attitude to the Catholic Church. From the restoration of the Bulgarian Orthodox Church in 1870 to the end of the Cold War, its hierarchy perceived the Roman Pope as an enemy, whose only aim was to destroy the national unity of Bulgarians and to undermine their Orthodox and Slavonic identity. The communist regime did not miss the opportunity to utilise this approach for its own ends. In the 1960s, it gave the green light to Patriarch Kiril to write about the destructive effect of Catholic propaganda on the Bulgarian nation.40 This behaviour changed upon the visit of Pope John Paul II to Bulgaria (23–26 May 2002), when his decision to have official talks with Patriarch Maxim, while neglecting the Alternative Synod, contributed to the international prestige of the former.41 At the same time, although Maxim’s Synod avoided the nationalist motives of the past, its official rhetoric emphasised the theological incompatibility between the two Christian branches. The Bulgarian Patriarch refused to welcome the Roman Pope as the head of a church and referred to him as a political leader. Meanwhile, some of his metropolitans have demonstrated a negative attitude towards the Catholic Church, including Nikolay – the former vicar bishop of Patriarch Maxim and the present Metropolitan of Plovdiv, whose references to the Roman Pope as ‘schismatic’ have provoked tensions in his diocese, inhabited by a great number of Latin and Eastern rite Catholics.42 The Sofia Centre for Religious Studies and Consultations ‘St Cyril and St Methodius’, established in 2004, under the auspices of the Sofia Metropolinate, shares this attitude by listing Protestantism and Roman Catholicism as Christian sects.43 In general, Maxim’s Synod declines invitations to send its representatives to theological forums dedicated to Orthodox– Catholic dialogue.44 Individual metropolitans who have been in contact with Catholic clergy without the Synod’s permission become the subjects of special investigations. It seems that the Orthodox hierarchy is more cooperative when the visits of Catholic hierarchs involve meetings with high-level state officials.45 If the critical attitude of Maxim’s hierarchy to well-established nonOrthodox churches is tamed by the EU membership of Bulgaria, it is often demonstrated in relation to smaller religious denominations, especially to new religious movements. In 2001, the Fifth Church-People’s Council (Peti tsarkovno-naroden sabor), chaired by Patriarch Maxim, protested against

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their registration by the Directorate of Religious Denominations. According to the proceedings of the Council, it is a moral duty of Orthodox clergy and lay believers ‘to uproot these weeds in the rich spiritual garden’ of Orthodox Bulgaria.46 When such statements find their place in sermons, their mixture with nationalist rhetoric reveals a dangerous tendency, as has been demonstrated in the case of Jehovah’s Witnesses, who often become the victim of joint attacks initiated by extreme nationalists and Orthodox clerics.47 At the same time, the Bulgarian Orthodox Church does not support nationalist assaults of ethnic minorities such as Turks or Roma. Maxim’s Synod works together with the Chief Mufti’s office in the sphere of religious education and supports the efforts of the latter for a mandatory study of Islam by Muslim children in public schools. Its attitude to the Jewish community is also very tolerant. In this respect, metropolitans always stress the role of the late Exarch Stefan (1945–8) and Patriarch Kiril (1953–70) concerning the rescue of Bulgarian Jews during the Second World War.48 The end of the Cold War changed the BOC’s relations with the Orthodox churches of Constantinople and Greece. Thanks to improved relations, Maxim’s Synod succeeded in increasing the number of monks in the Zograf Monastery at Mount Athos and in restoring its significance as a traditional holy place for pilgrimage. It also began regularly sending its representatives to Bulgarian parishes in neighbouring countries during the celebration of major Orthodox and national festivities. The Bulgarian dioceses of Akron and New York have been united into one overseas diocese.49 At the same time, in 1994, Maxim’s Synod broadened the jurisdiction of Western European Metropolitan Simeon by subjecting the Bulgarian parishes situated in the former Central European socialist countries to his authority.50 Meanwhile, the Church Statutes (2008) permitted the participation of delegates from the dioceses abroad in the councils of the Bulgarian Orthodox Church.51 Patriarch Maxim even began to issue English translations of his epistles to reach all generations of Bulgarian emigrants.52 In the last years, Maxim’s Synod has paid special attention to its public image in Bulgaria by developing its own electronic media. After having no website for a decade, it finally launched one in 2009 and established diocesan and local Orthodox media. Especially active is Metropolitan Nikolay of Plovdiv, who has started his own eparchial television, while other hierarchs are negotiating the broadcast of Orthodox programmes with local operators. By 2012, ten BOC dioceses had their own websites.53 In this way, Maxim’s Synod is not only actively able to propagate its activities, but also to oppose unfavourable information that appears in the lay media, especially in cases of misuse of church resources or misbehaviour of hierarchs. While the printed issues of Tsarkoven Vestnik [Church Newspaper] are distributed by the network of parochial churches and thus have a limited audience,54 the Patriarchal website has become a more effective tool of church presence in the public arena. It publishes such official BOC documents as declarations of its leadership or proceedings of the Synodal sessions. Interestingly, on some

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occasions, Maxim’s Synod has softened its preliminary visions, for example it changed its rejection of in vitro fertilisation and agreed that it is acceptable on some occasions.55 Such retreats, however, have not been the result of sharp social critics, but of delayed attempts to harmonise the BOC’s position with that of other Orthodox churches.56 Another sphere which the Bulgarian Orthodox Church has focused on in relation to the 2002 Denominations Act has been in nurturing the religiosity of its believers by organising the mass veneration of miracle icons and holy relics.57 In this respect, Maxim’s Synod developed a reversed pilgrimage: icons and relics are taken from their normal positions and exposed in cathedrals and main city churches, where thousands of believers queue for days to worship them instead of going to their original sites. Sometimes icons and relics were brought from abroad.58 The care of religiosity is also demonstrated by the newly built and restored churches and monasteries. All of this, however, is not realised with church resources, but with the voluntary donations of lay people and thanks to annual subsidies from the state budget. Religious charity thus remains the most underdeveloped sphere of the BOC’s activities. Its hierarchy supports social projects initiated by the state or civil society organisations, but it has neither developed its own social concept nor made any attempt to restore its pre-communist charity structures. Only a few ordinary priests have been engaged in, for example, building houses for the homeless, maintaining social kitchens for the poor or organising community treatment for the drug-addicted. Their charity relies on resources that are raised outside the Church. Recently Maxim’s Synod has begun to discuss the possibility of running social projects that are subsidised by the European Commission.59

Maxim’s Synod and the communist security services On 17 January 2012, the Committee for Disclosing the Documents and Announcing Affiliation of Bulgarian Citizens to the State Security and the Intelligence Services of the Bulgarian National Army during Communism (Dossier Committee) issued Decision No. 298 that disclosed eleven metropolitans from Maxim’s Synod as communist security agents.60 Bulgarian society was shocked that almost the entire church leadership had violated its oaths to God and had served an atheist regime. The supporters of Patriarch Maxim immediately accused the Dossier Committee of violating the constitutional separation between church and state. Their claims, however, were rejected by the argument that the revealed facts have no relation to the metropolitans’ religious responsibilities but only to their activities as communist agents. Meanwhile, the state authorities held back from making any comment that could be perceived as an intervention in church affairs and the Director of the Department of Religious Denominations expressed his opinion that such collaboration was unavoidable under communism.61 Since the public disclosure of the dossiers only Metropolitan Kalinik of Vratsa has declared his readiness to ask for forgiveness from the people.62 Some of his

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colleagues justified their collaboration with the communist security services in terms of the divine origins of all earthy powers, including communist power. Others claimed that nothing they had done was against their conscience or canons. For their part, the metropolitans Kiril of Varna Vratsa, Natanail of Nevrokop and Galaktion of Stara Zagora issued a joint declaration that under communism they had defended the Church’s interests and had fought for the rights of the clergy.63 During the whole time, Maxim’s Synod issued no official statement, nor did it make a gesture of repentance on the eve of the Orthodox Lent (26 February 2012), when Orthodox people ask for forgiveness from those around them. The disclosed list of agents-metropolitans included only those whose registration cards were preserved. The personal files of several of them, however, were declared as destroyed after 1989. At the same time, the preserved ones had been ‘cleaned up’, thus frustrating the reconstruction of many aspects of the metropolitans’ collaboration. Therefore, there is no guarantee that the four metropolitans whose names were not mentioned by the Dossier Committee did not collaborate with the communist security agencies. Soon after the issuance of Decision No. 298, a document was presented on Bulgarian National Television proving that there is one more agent-metropolitan, but his name was omitted.64 The reason lies in the Law for Access and Disclosure of Documents and Announcing Affiliation of Bulgarian Citizens to State Security and the Intelligence Services of the Bulgarian National Army Act that does not foresee the disclosure of agents whose names are mentioned in the personal dossiers of other people. As the disputed metropolitan had no preserved file or registration card, the Dossier Committee has no right to reveal his name. Therefore, the journalists presented the discussed document with a redacted name while the rest of the text left no doubt as to who he was. Meanwhile, private persons who were not obliged to keep silent mentioned the name of Patriarch Maxim,65 according to whom, his personal file and registration card were destroyed upon his patriarchal election. Bearing in mind that, on 18 August 1949, the Politburo of the Central Committee of the Bulgarian Communist Party made the decision only to assist the appointment of hierarchs who had the government’s confidence, while curbing the career progress of ‘reactionary clerics’, it was impossible for true churchmen to pass through the communist security agencies’ sieve. The affiliations of the Russian Patriarch Aleksii II and the Romanian Patriarch Teoctist with the KGB and the Securitate respectively, revealed in the 1990s, give additional strength to claims regarding Patriarch Maxim’s collaboration.66 Although it is too early to draw general conclusions about the case, some preliminary remarks can be made on the basis of the Dossier Committee’s Decision No. 298 and the official biographies of the agents-metropolitans, the analysis of which reveals an interesting model.67 In general, the recruitment of metropolitans preceded their episcopal consecration, i.e. they were agents before being elected as diocesan hierarchs.68 In this regard, it is important to distinguish between the role of bishop – the highest spiritual rank in

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Eastern Orthodoxy that connects with the apostolic legacy – and the status of a metropolitan, which is an administrative office for a diocesan hierarch in the Bulgarian Orthodox Church. The episcopal consecration is a condition for the appointment to such offices as vicar or metropolitan. This means that the aim of the communist security agencies was not only to spread their power over the BOC’s administration, but also over its sacramental life by deciding who would become a bishop. In this way, the totalitarian regime not only profaned the episcopal consecration but turned it in a political act. Through its control over the ‘manufacture of bishops’ the communist regime injured the very heart of the Church – its sacramental life, as only bishops have the right to accomplish the sacraments and to ordain lower-rank clergy. In this regard, one could expect that the forthcoming disclosure of agents among the nondiocesan hierarchs will reveal a high number of agents as well. Another specificity of the careers of the announced agents-metropolitans is that their studies in the Moscow Ecclesiastical Academy preceded their recruitment by the Bulgarian communist security services, with a few exceptions: Metropolitan Kiril of Varna was already an agent when he went to Moscow, while Grigoriy of Veliko Tarnovo and Natanail of Nevrokop did not study there at all. At the same time, recruitment by the communist security agencies preceded the trips of Bulgarian clerics to the West. Metropolitans Josif and Simeon were sent to supervise the Bulgarian dioceses in the United States and Western Europe after becoming agents.69 Eight other metropolitans were sent to study in Western universities.70 According to archival material, three of them went abroad before being recruited: Dometian of Vidin was in France, Switzerland and Great Britain from 1967 to 1969 and was recruited in 1972; Yoanikiy of Sliven went to Switzerland in 1970 and was recruited in 1977; Metropolitan Natanail of Nevrokop studied in Athens in 1976 and was recruited in 1980. The above-mentioned Decision No. 298 also reveals a direct link between collaboration with the communist security agencies and the domestic progress of the agents-metropolitans. Some of them reached the office of the General Secretary of the Holy Synod,71 while others had been appointed as vicars of the Metropolitan of Sofia, whose office was united that of the Patriarch upon the election of Maxim in 1971.72 Another important position was that of the BOC’s representative at the Moscow Patriarchate. It was occupied by Patriarch Maxim (1950–5), Metropolitan Kiril (1982–6) and Metropolitan Gavriil of Lovech (1986–91), although the latter has not been disclosed as an agent. Combined with previously known facts about the collaboration of the late metropolitans Pankratiy or Pimen of the Alternative Synod,73 the recent disclosure of the agents in cassocks sheds new light on the BOC’s post-communist development. There are no longer any doubts that by 1989 the entire Synod consisted of agents. From such a perspective the 1992 schism seems to have been orchestrated by former security officers who had an interest in establishing control over the Church’s economic resources. This discovery also questions the true intentions of Maxim’s Synod when doggedly insisting

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on compulsory religious instruction in public schools. This state of affairs is especially tragic for believers, whose faith in God has been left desolate after losing their trust in the hierarchy. To celebrate the Eucharist, which is the centre of sacramental life in Eastern Orthodoxy, they need to confess in order to receive Holy Communion. But how should believers confess to communist security agents? The twenty-seven-volume file of the Western and Central European Metropolitan Simeon shocked his flock and several of his parishes decided to move under the jurisdiction of the Ecumenical Patriarch of Constantinople.74 Meanwhile, already having repented of his sin of collaboration in 2008, Metropolitan Josif seems to have saved himself and his flock from such developments.75 The announcement of the agents-metropolitans also revived the BOC’s schism. In January 2012, it was used by the alternative Metropolitan Inokentiy of Sofia to invite the Ecumenical Patriarch of Constantinople as arbiter in his dispute with Maxim’s Synod.76 From a canonical point of view, such an initiative neglects the BOC’s autocephaly, a status that forbids any other church to interfere with in domestic affairs. At the same time, by sending a similar invitation to the Bulgarian President, Metropolitan Inokentiy seems to infringe the constitutional separation of church and state.77 His requests to the Ecumenical Patriarch and the Bulgarian President to convoke a People’s-Church Council also seems inappropriate as neither of them has the right to do so. Moreover, the Church Statutes of Maxim’s Synod and of the Alternative Synod foresee different procedures for its convocation. In this regard, it is important to remember that the Alternative Synod has also been the creation of agents-metropolitans,78 though the Dossier Committee has not yet checked its present staff. The Church was slipping into a deep crisis throughout 2012, when Patriarch Maxim passed away on 6 November at the age of ninety-eight. Four days later, the Synod voted for the appointment of Metropolitan Kiril of Varna Vratsa as patriarchal locum tenens.79 At the end of the month, it made another important decision by scheduling the election of the next patriarch for 24 February 2013.80 Meanwhile, the personality of the future patriarch provoked heated debates in society. If the Church wanted to elect a hierarch with a clean past then it had a limited choice. There were only three metropolitans who had not been disclosed as agents: Gavriil of Lovech, Nikolay of Plovdiv and Amvrosiy of Dorostol, i.e. the present-day city of Silistra. Only the first of them, however, was eligible for nomination as a candidate for the patriarchal office. Otherwise the canonical requirements for five years service as diocesan hierarch and to be aged fifty or more (2008 Church Statutes, Article 40, paragraphs 2 and 3) would be infringed. The Metropolitan of Plovdiv was younger, while that of Dorostol had not carried out sufficient years of service as a diocesan hierarch. Under these circumstances the result of the future patriarchal election seemed to be inevitable. However, the struggle for church leadership took an unexpected turn. According to the 2008 church Statutes, the Holy Synod nominated three

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metropolitans out of which a Church Council would elect the future patriarch. Each of these nominees had to receive at least two-thirds of the votes of his colleagues through a secret ballot (Article 45, paragraph 1). As the Synod was composed of fourteen metropolitans, the Church Council decided that two-thirds would be ten votes. Curiously enough, the first who seemed to receive support from colleagues was not Gavriil of Lovech or the two other favourites for the patriarchal office – Kiril of Varna and Neophyte of Russe – but the controversial Metropolitan Galaktion. In 2007, Galaktion was condemned by the Synod for introducing and conferring the archont title on a number of lay Bulgarians who were unable to justify their wealth.81 Neither Gavriil of Lovech, Kiril of Varna nor Neophyte of Russe received the mandatory ten votes. Facing a stalemate the Synod changed the rules and agreed that nine votes were sufficient to be nominated as a candidate for the patriarchal throne. As a result, Metropolitan Kiril was dropped from the list of nominees. On 16 February 2013, the Holy Synod announced the names of three metropolitans who deserved to be elected as Bulgarian patriarch, namely Galaktion of Stara Zagora, Gavriil of Lovech and Neophyte of Russe.82 Taking into account that Metropolitan Galaktion had no real chance of reaching the patriarchal office, it is highly likely that his nomination was aimed to eliminate Kiril from the competition. This proposition seems cogent in the light of the results from the voting of the Church Council on 24 February 2013. In the first round, seventy-one of its participants voted for Neophyte, forty-three for Gavriil and twenty-two for Galaktion (most probably these were votes from his diocese). As none of the three received two-thirds of the votes, there was a second round between the first two candidates. In the second round Metropolitan Neophyte received ninety votes, while Gavriil received forty-seven.83 Thus, Neophyte was appointed the third Patriarch of Bulgaria since the restoration of the patriarchal dignity of the Bulgarian Orthodox Church on 10 May 1953.84 Generally, his election was greeted with relief by Orthodox Bulgarians, who are attracted by Neophyte’s gentle appearance and a lack of discrediting documents in his file to suggest that he was an agent of the communist state security services. Also important was that his election was characterised by a lack of state intervention, which was obvious in 1953 and 1970.

Conclusion The contemporary encounter of the Bulgarian Orthodox Church with politics raises many questions. The first concerns the return of religion in a postatheist public arena, which has not gone as smoothly as initially expected and has provoked confusion among both state and church representatives. In the process of democratisation, it became clear that the collapse of communism could not bring about a restoration of the interwar situation, but requires a critical reassessment of past experiences and the present conditions. Another group of questions has been provoked by the Eurointegration of Bulgaria,

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during which the claims of the Orthodox hierarchy for a dominant status similar to that under the Tarnovo Constitution (1879–1947) are objected to by the local religious minorities and civil society organisations. Meanwhile, the 1992 schism contested the boundary between the secular and the religious in Bulgarian society. The conflict between the two Synods revealed that neither the national civil courts nor the European Court in Strasburg is able to offer an effective decision, because their competence is limited to civil law and they have no proficiency in Orthodox canons. The schism pointed to an epistemological problem too. On the one hand, the controversy between the rival church administrations cannot be solved on entirely theological grounds, i.e. by approaching the Orthodox Church as a divine– human organism. On the other hand, the secular concepts that regard it as a national or state body are not effective either. Meanwhile, the BOC’s schism challenged the secular and the religious authorities not only in Bulgaria but also abroad. Finally, the recent disclosure of the collaboration of the present church leadership with the communist security services increases the uncertainty about the BOC’s future encounter with politics. The specificity of Eastern Orthodoxy, of which the hierarchy is a self-reproducing system, the BOC’s autocephalous status and the constitutional separation of church and state, mean that the purification of the Bulgarian Orthodox Church from the agents-bishops and their replacement with true churchmen will be a long and difficult process, which is additionally complicated by the lack of transparency and accountability about the economic and financial affairs of Maxim’s Synod. It seems that the cure of the Bulgarian Orthodox Church is in the hands of its laity, but the question remains of how prepared it is for this task.

Appendix 1

Religious leaders

• •

Maxim (Marin Naydenov Minkov) (1914–2012), in office 1971–2012 Neophyte (Simeon Nikolov Dimitrov) (1945), in office 2013–.

2

Biography

Title: Patriarch of Bulgaria and Metropolitan of Sofia. Patriarch Neophyte (Simeon Nikolov Dimitrov) was born in Sofia on 15 October 1945. In 1965, he graduated from the Sofia Ecclesiastical Seminary. From 1967 to 1971 he studied Orthodox theology at the Ecclesiastical Academy ‘St Kliment Ohridski’ in Sofia, followed by two years of ‘Church Singing’ at the Moscow Ecclesiastical Academy. Upon his return to Bulgaria he was appointed to teach ‘Eastern Church Singing’ at the Ecclesiastical Academy ‘St Kliment Ohridski’ in Sofia. In 1975, he took monastic vows under the name

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Neophyte. In 1977, Neophyte was elevated to the dignity of Archimandrite by Patriarch Maxim and in 1981 was appointed Protosyngellos of the Metropolinate of Sofia. In 1985, upon his consecration as bishop, Neophyte became Second Vicar of Metropolitan Maxim of Sofia. After the fall of Todor Zhivkov, on 1 December 1989, Bishop Neophyte was appointed Rector of the Ecclesiastical Academy ‘St Kliment Ohridski’. After the reunion with Sofia University ‘St Kliment Ohridski’ in 1991, Neophyte became the first dean of the Theological Faculty in the same university. In 1992, he was appointed Chief Secretary of the Holy Synod of the Bulgarian Orthodox Church and on 27 March 1994, Metropolitan of Dorostol and Cherven. In 2001, his diocese was divided in two and Neophyte became Metropolitan of Russe. After the death of Patriarch Maxim, on 24 February 2013, Metropolitan Neophyte was elected Patriarch of Bulgaria and Metropolitan of Sofia. 3

Theological publications

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Tsarkoven vestnik [Church Newspaper] Dukhovna kultura [Spiritual Culture] Pravoslavna Misal [Orthodox Thought]85 Chronicle of the Bulgarian Orthodox Church, Sofia: Balgarski bestselar, Natsionalen muzey na balgarskata kniga i poligrafiya, 2010 (a bilingual edition in Bulgarian and English).

4

Congregations

Structure of the Church:86 15 eparchies (13 in Bulgaria and 2 abroad) headed by 15 metropolitans; 15 bishops without eparchies; about 70 deaneries and about 3,000 parishes.87 Though the 13 dioceses situated within the Bulgarian state borders are equally important as their diocesan hierarchs enjoy equal rights in the church government as members of the Holy Synod. The Metropolitanate of Plovdiv has the largest territory.88 Number of clergy and church buildings:89 1,280 priests, 120 monks and 140 nuns, over 3,000 churches and cathedrals,90 170 monasteries.91 5

Population92

The 2011 census abandoned the practice of the previous censuses that obliged Bulgarian citizens to define their religiosity and ethnicity according to that of their parents and grandparents. It allowed citizens to answer or not to the questions about their religious affiliation, ethnicity and mother tongue. According to the 2011 census, Bulgaria numbered 5,758,301 Orthodox believers (811,819 less than in 2001) out of 7,364,570 total population. During the 2011 census 6,611,513 Bulgarian citizens declared themselves as ethnic Bulgarians, 585,024 Turks, 320,761 Roma, 9,868 Russians, 6,360 Armenians, 3,598 Wallachians, 2,511 Karakachans, 1,763 Ukrainians, 1,609

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Macedonians, 1,356 Greeks, 1,130 Jews, 866 Romanians, 19,260 others and 53,107 did not identify themselves. During the census 78.19 per cent of the population replied to the questions in the section on ‘Religion’. According to its results, 59.40 per cent of Bulgarian citizens self-defined themselves as Orthodox, followed by 7.41 per cent Sunni Muslims and 0.32 per cent Shii Muslims, 0.88 Protestants, 0.66 per cent Catholics. There were also 5.67 per cent who identified themselves as religious without concrete affiliation and 3.70 per cent, people with no religion. There were also some small groups including 3,728 who identified themselves simply as Muslims as well as 1,715 Orthodox Armenians and 706 as belonging to Judaism. The total number of those who belonged to smaller religious groups was 9,023.

Notes 1 Constitutional Court’s Judgment No. 5 of 11 June 1992, Darzhaven vestnik [State Herald], no. 49, 16 June 1992. Available online in Bulgarian at: http://www.constcourt.bg/Pages/Document/Default.aspx?ID=36 (accessed 20 December 2012). 2 Ibid. 3 Religious Denominations Act, Darzhaven vestnik, No. 120, 29 December 2002. Available in Bulgarian at: http://sadebnapraktika.com/sites/default/files/file/ ЗАКОН%20ЗА%20ВЕРОИЗПОВЕДАНИЯТА.pdf (accessed 20 December 2012). 4 Ibid. 5 The BOC’s Synod and its members have pointed on various occasions to the role of their predecessors, the metropolitans Setfan of Sofia and Kiril of Plovdiv, in the rescue of Jews in Bulgaria. On 24 March 2012, the BOC’s website published information entitled ‘Documentary exhibition “Condemned and Saved” in Vidin’, available in Bulgarian at: http://www.bg-patriarshia.bg/news.php?id=41758 (accessed 20 December 2012). The BOC’s resistance to the Holocaust in Bulgaria was also stressed in many condolence letters sent to the Holy Synod of the Bulgarian Orthodox Church after the death of Patriarch Maxim on 6 November 2012. See the condolence letters of the Central Jewish Spiritual Consistory (Tseltralen Izariltyanski duhoven savet) published on 6 November at: http://www.trud.bg/Article.asp?ArticleId=1621937 or that of the Branch Shalom Organisation in the city of Plovdiv at http://marica.bg/ show.php?id=93008 (accessed 20 December 2012). 6 ‘Minister Velchev ordered: No VAT for the Trade with Candles and Church Items’, published on 13 January 2005 at: http://www.religiabg.com/?p=oldnews&id=3653 (accessed 7 November 2012). 7 According to the Bulgarian Orthodox Church’s Statutes (1951), the representatives of the dioceses have to be elected every four years. As there have not been such elections since 1952, the participants in the 1971 patriarchal elections had no legitimacy. On these grounds the metropolitans – Paisiy of Vratsa, Josif of Varna and Pimen of Nevrokop – protested against the convocation of the Church Council for the election of next patriarch before having elections for new diocesan representatives and later contested the patriarchal election of Maxim. Daniela Kalkandjieva, ‘The Bulgarian Orthodox Church and the Challenges of Pluralism’, in E. Kalinova, M. Gruev, L. Zidarova (eds), Prelomni vremena. Yubileen sbornik v chest na 65-godishninata na professor Lyubomir Ognyanov [Crucial Times: Jubilee volume, dedicated to the sixty-fifth anniversary of Professor Lyubomir Ognyanov], Sofia: UI Sv. Kliment Ohridski, 2006, p. 884. 8 TsDA [Central State Archive], f. [fond] 1b [Bulgarian Communist Party], op. [inventory] 35, a.e. [archival unit] 2040, p. 1.

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9 Pravila na Sv. Pravoslavnna Tsarkva [Canons of the Holy Orthodox Church], translated by and ed. Ivan Stefanov, Sofia: Pechatnitsa T.T. Dragiev i S-ie, 1936, p. 69. 10 By 1989 the BOC has eleven elected metropolitans whose dioceses were on the territory of Bulgaria and two appointed metropolitans for the eparchies abroad (1951 Church Statutes, Articles 3 and 52). The list of rebellious metropolitans included Pimen of Nevrokop, Stefan of Veliko Tarnovo, Pankratiy of Stara Zagora, Sofroniy of Ruse, Kalinik of Vratsta and Yoanikiy of Sliven. 11 Supreme Court Judgments Nos. 255/1992 and 662/1992. See the ECHR’s Admissibility Decision on the case of Holy Synod of the Bulgarian Orthodox Church and Others v. Bulgaria (Applications nos. 412/03 and 35677/04), 22 May 2007, available at: http://www.religlaw.org/document.php?DocumentID=3958 (accessed 7 November 2012). 12 The origins and development of the schism in the Bulgarian Orthodox Church are summarised in the ECHR’s Judgment (merits) on the Case of Holy Synod of the Bulgarian Orthodox Church (Metropolitian Inokentiy) and Others v. Bulgaria, issued on 22 January 2009, available at: http://www1.umn.edu/humanrts/ research/bulgaria/HOLY%20SYNOD%20OF%20THE%20BULGARIAN%20 ORTHODOX%20CHURCH%20AND%20OTHERS.pdf (accessed 7 November 2012). 13 The hypothesis about the restitution of church property as the main reason for the eruption of the Bulgarian schism in 1992 is developed in Daniela Kalkandjieva, ‘The New Denominations Act and the Bulgarian Orthodox Church (2002–2005)’, in Irimie Marga, Gerald G. Sander and Dan Sandu (eds), Religion zwischen Kirche, Staat und Gesellschaft – Religion between Church, State and Society, Hamburg: Verlag Dr. Kovac, 2007, pp. 108–10. 14 ‘Chief Mufti’s Office after the Democratic Changes’, published on 26 March 2011 on the website of Muslim Denomination – Chief Mufti’s Office, available at: http://www.genmuftibg.net/bg/stand/1390-2011-03-25-09-49-22.html (accessed 7 November 2012). 15 Maxim’s Synod was supported by the socialist governments of Jean Videnov (1995–7) and Sergey Stanishev (2005–9) as well as by those that had socialist support, i.e. those of Lyuben Berov (1992–4) and Simeon Saxe-CoburgGotha (2001–5), while the UDF governments of Philip Dimitrov (November 1991–December 1992) and Ivan Kostov (May 1997–July 2001) supported the Alternative Synod. 16 Mainly Bulgarian and Russian media referred to this council as ‘pan-Orthodox’; the other Orthodox churches did not use this term. According to the Journal of the Moscow Patriarchate [JMP], ‘the council was convened on the initiative of the Bulgarian Orthodox Church with His Holiness Patriarch Maxim at the head who asked all Orthodox churches to support canonical Orthodoxy in Bulgaria and to affirm the unity of the Orthodox Church in Bulgaria by the authority of the PanOrthodox Council’. See ‘Church Schism in Bulgaria Healed’, JMP, 1998, no. 11, 38–41. Meanwhile, Bulgarian media claimed that the council was convened by the Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew himself. See Schism’s Chronology, available at: http://www.pravoslavieto.com/docs/razkol_chronology.htm (accessed 7 November 2012). 17 Patriarchal and Synodal Encyclical Letter to the clergy and flock of the Bulgarian Orthodox Church concerning the decisions of the Pan-Orthodox Church Council, held in Sofia (30 September–1 October 1998) issued by Maxim’s Synod and published in Tsarkoven Vestnik [Church Newspaper], no. 20, 16–31 October 1998, pp. 1–2. 18 See ECHR’s Admissibility Decision on The Holy Synod of the Bulgarian Orthodox Church and Others v. Bulgaria (22 May 2007). This excerpt from the Supreme

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Administrative Court’s Decision No. 6300 is available in a legal analysis about the perspective before the Bulgarian Orthodox Church after the death of Patriarch Maxim, who passed away on 6 November 2012, published in the online platform of Bulgarian advocates under the title ‘The death of Patriarch Maxim is a test for the Church’s potential to make choices’, available in Bulgarian at: http:// www.advocati.org/index.php?menu=2&podmenu=3/ (accessed 17 November 2012). Interview with Borislav Tsekov, the main author of the Religious Denominations Act (2002), published under the title ‘Schismatic Clergy Involved in Suspicious Affairs’, Kesh [newspaper], no. 50, 20 December 2002, p. 6. Denominations Act, Darzhaven vestnik [State Herald], no. 120, 29 December 2002. Ibid. Constitutional Court Judgment No. 12, 15 July 2003, on the constitutional case No. 3/2003, published in Darzhaven vestnik [State Herald], no. 66, 25 July 2002. Available at: https://sites.google.com/site/pravosver/ksrb/ks-12-2003 (accessed 7 November 2012). PACE’s Resolution No. 1390 (2004) is available at: http://assembly.coe.int/Mainf. asp?link=/Documents/AdoptedText/ta04/ERES1390.htm (accessed 7 November 2012). Ibid. Ibid. ECHR’s Judgment on The Holy Synod of the Bulgarian Orthodox Church and Others v. Bulgaria – Admissibility Decision (22 May 2007), available at: http://www. religlaw.org/document.php?DocumentID=3958 (accessed 7 November 2012). ECHR’s Judgment on The Holy Synod of the Bulgarian Orthodox Church and Others v. Bulgaria – Chamber Decision (16 September 2010), available at: http:// www.religlaw.org/document.php?DocumentID=3957 (accessed 7 November 2012). Ibid. Archimandrite Visarion A. Dobrev, who was consecrated as bishop by the Alternative Synod, was sued by the Sliven Diocesan Court and sentenced to a deprivation of priestly dignity without excommunication from the Orthodox Church. See Judgment No. 1 of the Sliven Diocesan Court, 5 March 2010, available at: http://bg-patriarshia.bg/news.php?id=20528 (accessed 7 November 2012). Konstantin Sabchev, ‘The Holy Synod is permanently unable to put in order its estates’, Standart [newspaper], 28 June 2006, p. 22. This practice was confirmed by Metropolitan Kiril of Varna in his interview published in Monitor [newspaper], 27 June 2006, p. 17. Mr Ivan Zhelev, who then headed the Directorate for Religious Denominations, defined such double transactions with church property as bad economic policy in his interview, published in Monitor, 26 June 2006, p. 3. An example is the case of Fr Veliko in the village of Rogachevo near Varna, who opposed the business plans of the local metropolitan and was simply replaced by a more docile cleric. See Georgi Dimov, ‘A hierarch commutes a church property for a sea resort’, Trud [newspaper], 6 September 2006, p. 7. Konstantin Sabchev, P. Tsvetkova and R. Tosheva, ‘On Easter Eve many priests live in misery’, published on 4 April 2006 at: http://www.dveri.bg/content/ view/1982/172/ (accessed 7 November 2012); Dobroslav Ivanov, ‘Priests are in dire need’, published on 11 December 2008 at: http://dariknews.bg/view_article. php?article_id=312505 (accessed 7 November 2012). Ivan Kutuzov, ‘The Church’s grey sector’, Dnevnik [newspaper], 25 July 2010, available at: http://www.dnevnik.bg/analizi/2010/07/04/927682_siviiat_sektor_na_ curkvata/ (accessed 7 November 2012).

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35 Letter from the Chairman of the Labor Confederation ‘Podkrepa’ to the Minister of Labour and Social Policy, 11 January 2011, available at: http://podkrepa.org/ content/img/news/files/352_T.Mladenov.pdf (accessed 7 November 2012). 36 Such priest conferences were held in the spring of 2011. Information about them is available on the official website of the Bulgarian Orthodox Church (Patriarch Maxim), at: http://bg-patriarshia.bg/ (accessed 7 November 2012). 37 ‘Tax-free Paradise for the distributors of faith’, reprinted article from Banker [newspaper], published 11 May 2011, at: http://www.vlastta.com/nivo1.php?id1= &id2=&id3=7599&table=analizi&sluchai=1 (accessed 7 November 2012). 38 Decision of the Supreme Court of the People’s Republic of Bulgaria 448 on civil case 225/72 by the Court’s 3rd civil section issued on 22 April 1972. It is based on the ‘Instruction for the implementations of the provisions of the Labour Codex in the case of church servants’, published in Sadebna praktika of VS na NRB – grazhdanski otdelenia, 1972 [Cases of the Supreme Court of the People’s Republic of Bulgaria in 1972], Sofia: Nauka i izkustvo, 1973. Available online at: http:// hpberov.blogspot.com/ (accessed 7 November 2012). 39 Concept of the Holy Synod [under Patriarch Maxim] of the Bulgarian Orthodox Church concerning the status of the discipline ‘Religion’ in Bulgarian public schools, issued in 2008. Available at: http://bg-patriarshia.bg/index.php?file=concepts_1. xml (accessed 7 November 2012). 40 Patriarch Kiril of Bulgaria, Katolicheskata propaganda sred balgarite prez vtorata polovina na XIX vek [The Catholic Propaganda among Bulgarians in the Second Half of the Nineteenth Century], Sofia: Sinodalno izdatelstvo, 1962; Patriarch Kiril of Bulgaria, Prinos kam uniatstvoto v Makedoniya sled Osvoboditelnata voyna (1879–1895) [Contribution to Uniatism in Macedonia after the Liberation War] (1879–1895)], Sofia: Sinodalno izdatelstvo, 1968. 41 On the visit of Pope John Paul II to Bulgaria see: http://www.popeinbulgaria.com (accessed 7 November 2012). 42 The late Metropolitan Ilarion of Dorostol (Silistra) was accused of unauthorised contact with Catholic monks who visited his church during the liturgy and had conversations with him. His written explanations to the Synod, published on the BOC’s webpage on 14 July 2009, are available at: http://bg-patriarshia.bg/news. php?id=10568 (accessed 7 November 2012). 43 See: http://www.symvol.org/rm/eresi/ (accessed 7 November 2012). 44 Decisions of the Holy Synod (Patriarch Maxim) concerning the invitation to participate in dialogue between Orthodox and Catholic theologians (Cyprus, 16–23 October 2009), Synodal Proceedings of 8 July 2009, available at: http://bg-patriarshia.bg/news.php?id=10497 (accessed 7 November 2012). 45 The Synod of Patriarch Maxim blessed metropolitans Dometian of Vidin and Neofit of Ruse to be its representatives during the visit of Cardinal Raffaele Farina to Bulgaria in June 2010. Synodal Proceedings of 4 June 2010, published on 17 June on the BOC’s website: http://bg-patriarshia.bg/news.php?id=24487 (accessed 7 November 2012). 46 Proceedings of the Fifth Church-People’s Council (17 December 2001) available at: http://synpress-classic.dveri.bg/01-2002/sabor_doc.htm (accessed 7 November 2012). 47 The Metropolitan of Veliko Tarnovo used nationalist rhetoric in his sermon against the plans of Jehovah’s Witnesses to build a prayer house in the city, delivered on 26 February 2009. Available at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_pQL3gOoyhg (accessed 7 November 2012). 48 After the fall of communism, Bachovo Monastery near the city of Plovdiv, where Exarch Stefan and Patriarch Kiril are buried, began to conduct annual services rendering homage to their role for the rescue of the Jews in Bulgaria during the Second World War. See ‘64 years passed since the rescue of the Bulgarian Jews’,

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10 March 2003, at: http://society.actualno.com/Navyrshvat-se-64-godini-otspasenieto-na-bylgarskite-evrei-news_95600.html (accessed 7 November 2012); ‘A commemorative plate is inaugurated in tribute to Patriarch Kiril and Exarch Stefan in the Bachovo Monastery’, 21 April 2009, at: http://dariknews.bg/view_ article.php?article_id=349710; ‘The recognition of the Bulgarian Patriarchate: the ever-memorable late Kiril – Patriarch of Bulgaria and Metropolitan of Sofia’, 10 March 2010, at: http://bg-patriarshia.bg/index.php?file=recognition_ patriarchate.xml (accessed 7 November 2012). In 2008 there were two parallel commemoration services by an Orthodox priest and a Jewish rabbi. See: ‘Plovdiv commemorated the 65th Anniversary of the rescue of the Bulgarian Jews’, 9 March 2008, at: http://society.actualno.com/news_152406.html (accessed 7 November 2012). The biography of Metropolitan Josif of USA, Canada and Australia is available at: http://bg-patriarshia.bg/index.php?file=east_bul_diocese_bishop.xml (accessed 7 November 2012). The biography of the Western and Central European Metropolitan Simeon is available at: http://bg-patriarshia.bg/index.php?file=west_eu_diocese_bishop.xml (accessed 7 November 2012). The Synod of the Bulgarian Orthodox Church (Patriarch Maxim) confirmed the members of the Western and Central European Diocese as delegates to the next Church Council, published on 3 November 2011. See: http://bg-patriarshia.bg/ news.php?id=54435 (accessed 7 November 2012). Synodical Epistle for the Nativity of Christ 2010, at: http://bg-patriarshia.bg/news. php?id=35536 (accessed 7 November 2012). In January 2012 the metropolitan offices of Vratsa, Veliko Tarnovo, Pleven and Silistra did not have their own websites (accessed 7 November 2012). The Metropolinate of Sofia uses the website of the Bulgarian Orthodox Church, while that of Nevrokop has not uploaded any information to its website. According to sociological surveys, regular Orthodox churchgoers number between 3 and 7 per cent of the entire population in Bulgaria. ‘Bulgarian Holy Synod reverses in vitro opposition’, published at novinite.com on 4 January 2012: http://www.novinite.com/view_news.php?id=135383 (accessed 7 November 2012). Maxim’s Synod edited its declaration about in vitro fertilisation and surrogate motherhood in agreement with the views of the Russian and Greek Orthodox thus making some concessions in the case of in vitro fertilisation. See ‘The Holy Synod made more precise its declaration on the assisted reproduction methods’, published on 3 January 2012 at: http://www.dveri.bg/content/view/14390/29/ (accessed 7 November 2012). ‘The miracle Icon of God’s Mother with three hands from Troyan monastery arrives in the Diocese of Varna and Veliki Preslav’, published on 17 July 2009 at: http://bg-patriarshia.bg/news.php?id=10629 (accessed 7 November 2012). ‘About the origin of the miracle-doing God’s Grave Fathers icon of God’s Mother’, published on 31 July 2010 at: http://bg-patriarshia.bg/news.php?id=26637; ‘Unexpected joy!’, published on 2 July 2011 at: http://bg-patriarshia.bg/news. php?id=47848 (accessed 7 November 2012). ‘Decision of the BOC’s Holy Synod (Patriarch Maxim) about the opportunities to apply for European Programmes’, published on 23 June 2010 at: http://bg-patriarshia.bg/news.php?id=24778 (accessed 7 November 2012). The Dossier Committee’s Decision No. 298 is available at: http://www.comdos.bg (accessed 7 November 2012). See also ‘Men in black: what did Bulgarian Orthodox Church clergy do while spying for the communist state?’, published in Sofia Echo,

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18 January 2012, available at: http://sofiaecho.com/2012/01/18/1747679_men-inblack-what-did-bulgarian-orthodox-church-clergy-do-while-spying-for-the-communist-state (accessed 7 November 2012). ‘Emil Velinov: there is a purposeful attack against the Bulgarian Orthodox Church’, Tanya Milusheva’s interview with the Director of the Department of Religious Denominations, broadcast by the Horizont programme (Bulgarian National Radio (BNR)) on 18 January 2012. Available at: http://bnr.bg/sites/horizont/Shows/Current/BeforeEveryone/Society/Pages/velinov1801.aspx (accessed 7 November 2012). Broadcast by BNR’s Horizont on 18 January 2012. Available at: http://bnr.bg/ sites/horizont/News/Bulgaria_news/Pages/1801vraca.aspx (accessed 7 November 2012). ‘Three metropolitans issued a joint declaration on the disclosed state security files’, 28 January 2012, available at: http://www.dveri.bg/content/view/14529/29/ (accessed 7 November 2012). This document was shown on Vyara i obshtestvo [Faith and Society], Channel One of Bulgarian National Television (BNT), broadcast on 21 January 2012. Available at: http://bnt.bg/bg/productions/44/edition/19445/vjara_i_obshtestvo_21_januari_2012 (accessed 7 November 2012). ‘Patriarch Maxim was also a DS agent [State Security agent]’, published on 21 January 2012, at: http://www.glasove.com/i-patriarh-maksim-e-bil-sutrudnik-nads-18760 (accessed 7 November 2012). The website presents also a scanned copy of the corresponding archival document. The same opinion was expressed by Lyubomir Mladenov, the former director of Religious Denominations, in Vyara i Obshtestvo broadcast by BNT’s Channel One on 28 January 2012. Available at: http://bnt.bg/bg/productions/44/edition/19689/vjara_i_obshtestvo_28_januari_2012 (accessed 7 November 2012). The affiliation of the Russian Patriarch Aleksii II was announced after the collapse of the Soviet Union on the basis of documents from archives of the former Soviet security services in Estonia. See Gleb Yakunin, Krest i Molot [Cross and Hammer], Moscow: Blagovesnik, 1998. Similar information was found about the Romanian Patriarch Teoctist, who was affiliated with the Securitate. See Lavinia Stan and Lucian Turcescu, Religion and Politics in Post-Communist Romania, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007, pp. 68–73. Personal data on the agents-metropolitans is available in Bulgarian from the Dossier Committee’s website: http://comdos.bg, while the official biographies of the fifteen metropolitans from Maxim’s Synod are available on its website: http:// bg-patriarshia.bg (accessed 7 November 2012). There was only one exception, namely Metropolitan Yoanikiy of Sliven, who was consecrated in 1975 but was recruited as a security agent in 1977. There is also another interesting case – that of Metropolitan Josif, who is in charge for the Bulgarian Eparchy in the USA, Canada and Australia. His episcopal consecration on 7 December 1980 de facto coincided with his recruitment by the communist security services on 19 December 1980. He was also the only one who announced his affiliation with the former communist services and repented before the Bulgarian people in 2008, i.e. years before the declassification of the secret archives. His letter of repentance, entitled ‘Forgive me, Bulgarian people!’, was published on 1 July 2008 at: http://www.pravoslavie.bg/Документи/Прощавай,български-народе! (accessed 17 November 2012). Metropolitan Dometian of Vidin was recruited by the communist security services in 1972 and served as Bulgarian bishop in the USA from 1979 to 1983. Simeon, the present Metropolitan of the Western and Central European Diocese, was

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recruited in 1964 and sent as protosingel to the Bulgarian Diocese in the USA in 1966. In 1979 he was moved to Western Europe to serve first as vicar bishop of the Bulgarian Patriarchate and in 1986 as metropolitan of the same diocese. Metropolitan Josif was recruited in 1980 and was sent to the USA in 1983. Metropolitan Kalinik was recruited in 1968 and sent to Switzerland for the academic year 1968/69, Metropolitan Kiril recruited in 1976 and sent to Athens in 1976/77, Metropolitan Grigoriy of Veliko Tarnovo, recruited in 1975, sent to Switzerland and Great Britain in 1982/85, Metropolitan Ignatiy of Pleven, recruited in 1980, sent to Regensburg in 1980/81, Metropolitan Galaktion of Stara Zagora, recruited in 1981, to the same place in 1981/82. The office of the Synod’s General Secretary was occupied by Metropolitan Kiril of Varna in 1987/9, Metropolitan Neofit of Russe in 1992/4 and Natanail of Nevrokop in 1989. In this regard, the case of Metropolitan Dometian deviates from the rule as he served as General Secretary of the Synod from 1970 to 1979, while being recruited as an agent in 1972. The office of the Vicar of the Metropolitan of Sofia was occupied by several agentsmetropolitans: Josif in the period 1980–3, Dometian, 1983–7, Neofit, 1985–9 (as Second Vicar), and Natanail, 1989–94. There are also two metropolitans without files: Gavriil, 1998–2001, and Nikolay, 2001–7. ‘There were security agents in the Alternative Synod as well’, announced Mihail Ivanov on the ‘Nedelya 150’ channel, broadcast by BNR on Horizont, 22 January 2012: http://www.livenews.bg/I-v-alternativniya-sinod-e-imalo-satrudnitsi-naDS-26437 (accessed 7 November 2012). ‘Eight Bulgarian parishes abroad are moving under the Ecumenical Patriarch’, 24 chasa, 23 January 2012, available at: http://www.24chasa.bg/Article. asp?ArticleId=1199385 (accessed 7 November 2012). Metropolitan Josif, ‘Forgive me, Bulgarian people’, first published on 1 July 2008 at: http://www.pravoslavie.bg/. Letter from the Bulgarian Orthodox Church, the Holy Synod (Metropolitan Inokentiy) to Patriarch Bartholomew of Constantinople, sent on 31 January 2012. Available at: http://desebg.com/images/stories/Who_is_who/Sinod/pdf/ Vartolomei-BPC_Sv_Syn-blanka.pdf (accessed 7 November 2012). Letter from the Bulgarian Orthodox Church, the Holy Synod (Metropolitan Inokentiy) to the Bulgarian President Rosen Plevneliev, sent on 31 January 2012. Available at: http://desebg.com/images/stories/Who_is_who/Sinod/pdf/PrezidentBPC_Sv_Syn-blanka.pdf (accessed 7 November 2012). See note 73, above. The Holy Synod’s Decision about the patriarchal locum tenens of 10 December 2012, available at: http://bg-patriarshia.bg/news.php?id=91235 (accessed 3 January 2013). Proceedings of the Holy Synod concerning the Church’s Patriarchal Elections Council, 27 November 2012. Available at: http://bg-patriarshia.bg/news. php?id=92824 (accessed 3 January 2013). Plovdivskiyat mitr. Nikolay proizvede svoya parvi arhont [Metropolitan Nikolay of Plovdiv produced his first archont], 10 June 2012. Available at: http://dveri. bg/3hx39 (accessed 10 May 2013). Akt-izlozhenie za trimata dostoizbiraemi za patriarch balgarski mitropoliti [Memorandum on the three Bulgarian metropolitans deserving to be elected as Patriarch], 16 February 2013. Available at: http://bg-patriarshia.bg/news. php?id=100664 (accessed 10 May 2013). Akt-izlozhenie za isbor na Balgarski patriarch i Sofiiski mitropolit [Memorandum for the Election of Patriarch of Bulgaria and Metropolitan of Sofia], 24 February 2013. Available at: http://bg-patriarshia.bg/news.php?id=101535 (accessed 10 May 2013).

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84 The restoration of the patriarchal dignity of the Bulgarian Orthodox Church in 1953 was recognised by the Patriarchate of Constantinople during Khrushchev’s détente in 1961. 85 Online journal available at: http://bg-patriarshia.bg/reflections.php (accessed 7 November 2012). 86 Data from the website of the Bulgarian Orthodox Church – Bulgarian Patriarchate: http://bg-patriarshia.bg/index.php?file=structure.xml (accessed 7 November 2012). 87 There is no official information about the number of the deaneries and parishes on the website of the Bulgarian Orthodox Church under Patriarch Maxim (http:// bg-patriarshia.bg/) and in its official publications. The website does not provide information about the number of the deaneries in the dioceses on Vidin, Vratsa, Nevrokop, Pleven and Plovdiv. The website of the Vidin eparchy gives information about two deaneries, while the other four do not have any. 88 Metropolitan websites: Vidin Metropolinate – http://vidinskamitropoliya.com; Lovech Metropolinate – http://www.eparhia-lovech.com; Russe Metropolinate – http://www.diocese-ruse.org/index.html; Varna Metropolinate – http://mitropolia-varna.org; Sliven Metroplinate – http://mitropolia.sliven.net; Plovdiv Metropolinate – http://www.plovdivskamitropolia.bg; Nevrokop Metropolinate – http://mitropolia.hit.bg/docs/kalendar.html; Western and Central European Diocese – http://www.rilaeu.com; American and Australian Diocese – http://www. bulgariandiocese.org (all websites accessed on 7 November 2012). 89 There is no such information provided on the official website of the Bulgarian Orthodox Church-Bulgarian Patriarchate. 90 There are 2,338 Orthodox churches and cathedrals listed in the National Register of Churches, Mosques, Synagogues and other religious houses in Bulgaria, which is an ongoing project and has not yet included all of them: http://www.hramove. bg/myadmin/popup_temple.php (accessed 7 November 2012). According to the publication noted below, with data produced in consultation with the Holy Synod, the Bulgarian Orthodox Church has about 3,300 parochial churches and 600 chapels, built in 2,670 cities and villages (out of 5,340 in Bulgaria) as well as 170 monasteries with 120 monks and 140 nuns. Data from Istoria na Balgarskata pravoslavna tsarkva [History of the Bulgarian Orthodox Church] available at: http://religiabg. com/?p=religii&id=27 (accessed 7 November 2012). 91 This number is from Istoria na Balgarskata pravoslavna tsarkva [History of the Bulgarian Orthodox Church], based on information received from Vladimir Petrov, the head of the Administrative Division of the Holy Synod, available at: http://religiabg.com/?p=religii&id=27 (accessed 7 November 2012). 92 Data from the 2011 census. For more information see: http://censusresults.nsi.bg (accessed 7 November 2012).

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The Georgian Orthodox Church Paul Crego

At the end of 1991 the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics ceased to exist. It was replaced by fifteen sovereign republics, including the Republic of Georgia. One could make the case, however, that Soviet power had, in effect, if not in fact, expired in Georgia on the morning of 9 April 1989 when Soviet troops fired on a demonstration in the capital city of Tbilisi. Some demonstrators were killed outright by gunfire and others were bludgeoned to death with shovels.1 After this massacre the Communist Party lost its credibility in Georgia. Multi-party elections were held in Georgia in October 1990, with Zviad Gamsaxurdia’s Roundtable Coalition winning a majority. On 26 May 1991 Gamsaxurdia himself was elected President of Georgia. At the beginning of 1992, after a tumultuous several months in office, he was overthrown. Thus, when the Soviet Union collapsed Georgia’s first ‘post-Soviet’ government was itself nearly finished. At the fall of the Soviet Union the Orthodox Church of Georgia2 was also well ahead of the curve in terms of its development into a post-Soviet institution. From the enthronement of Catholicos-Patriarch Ilia II (Šiolašvili) on 25 December 1977 the Georgian Church had begun a multifaceted period of renewal.3 Churches had been reopened and plans were made to build new ones. The hierarchy had been expanded and strengthened; dioceses long vacant were being filled. The number of publications began ever so slowly to expand. A housecleaning of the Georgian hierarchy was accomplished with the conviction of Metropolitan Gaioz (Bidzina Keratishvili) in 1979 for theft of church property.4 This chapter surveys the ways in which the Georgian Orthodox Church after the collapse of the Soviet Union became an institution at the centre of Georgian society, how it has continued to develop as such, how the Church and the Georgian government have engaged in a not always deft and delicate dance and how it has become a combatant on one side of a growing cultural war that, in part, is being fought over basic human rights in the Republic of Georgia.

Church–state relations and role of the Church in society Like other Orthodox churches, and indeed all religions, the Georgian Orthodox Church was essentially an enemy of the Bolshevik state, and theoretically,

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therefore, an enemy of all Soviet people. After the annexation of Georgia in 1921 the position of the Church deteriorated rapidly. While there were brief periods when religious persecution was relaxed, especially, for example, during the Second World War, the damage to all religious institutions during Soviet rule can scarcely be overestimated. The Orthodox Church as a symbol of Imperial Russia was singled out for its purported role in supporting the oppression of the masses of the Old Regime.5 Many Georgian Orthodox priests were killed as a result of the repression of the Georgian Church and the number of functioning churches fell from hundreds to a scattered few dozen during the Soviet occupation. Many church buildings were destroyed or given over to other uses. Two other historical phenomena are important to understanding the role that the post-Soviet Georgian Orthodox Church would play as a self-conscious subject in the process of nation rebuilding. The first, and more recent, was the absorption of the Georgian Orthodox Church by the Russian Orthodox Church in 1811. The political annexation of Georgian lands had begun in 1801 and the annexation, as it were, of the Church was a logical step in the imperial plan. The suppression of the Georgian language in liturgy and ecclesial education became a rallying point for the Georgian clergy, who would eventually become part of the national reawakening in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. The first Catholicos-Patriarch of the Georgian Church in 1917, Kirion II (Sażaglišvili), was a leader of clerical participation in the struggle against Russian assimilation.6 The other historical phenomenon involves long periods under Muslim rule during which the Georgian Orthodox Church was a guarantor of national identity, religion and language. Arabs, Persians and Turks at various times and in varying degrees controlled parts of Georgian lands. Some Georgians converted to Islam, but the Church maintained the idea that Orthodox Christianity was the faith proper to members of the Georgian nation. The Georgian Church’s role in preserving national identity was not unlike the role played by other Orthodox and Eastern churches under the political control of Islamic states. The Georgian Church in the newest period of Georgia’s independence became an important player in the project to define Georgian national identity. This quest has coloured church–state relations in Georgia and not always to the perceived benefit of the Orthodox Church. The process of national preservation has also involved the Church heavily in issues of minority religious and ethnic relations. This has been especially true in the contexts of the ongoing conflicts with Abkhazia and South Ossetia. A growing relationship of church and state during the brief period of Zviad Gamsaxurdia’s presidency was an important development for the Georgian Orthodox Church and certainly raised expectations from the perspective of the Church. Gamsaxurdia, son of the famous Georgian writer Konstatine Gamsaxurdia, was a leading dissident in the 1970s and 1980s. Georgian Samizdat publications with which the younger Gamsaxurdia was involved criticised the Georgian Orthodox Church for its lax morals, adding

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accusations that the low morality of some Georgian clergy was due to the infiltration of KGB operatives within the Church.7 In his inaugural address of 7 June 1991 Gamsaxurdia, on the basis of his understanding of church–state relations, laid out a plan for the Church’s participation in the life of Georgian society, including the involvement of the Church in education:8 In Georgia, as in any Orthodox Christian country, the union between church and state is traditional. The living faith of the Georgians has put limits on the inimical encirclement of the centuries-old Georgian state. The state, for its part, has aided in many ways the Church in its apostolic mission. At the conclusion of his inaugural address Gamsaxurdia cited the protection of the Blessed Theotokos as the foundation for the identity of the nation and its struggle for independence:9 Georgia is the Lot [cilxvedri]10 of the Theotokos. Our history, the rule of life, the struggle for the faith, for national independence – this is the martyr’s, i.e. the Christlike way of good, of mercy, and love. History has given us the possibility that we might return to the way of our ancestors; that we might renew in faith a free Georgia. Gamsaxurdia was often photographed with Ilia II, thus giving a visible imprimatur to Gamsaxurdia’s words and deeds. Gamsaxurdia’s own mix of Orthodoxy and Anthroposophy11 would later be an indirectly acknowledged embarrassment of sorts to the Church, but this was evident only years after his fall from power and subsequent death.12 Within months of his election Gamsaxurdia was under political siege and had no time to enact his programme for the participation of the Georgian Church in education and other facets of Georgian society. Ilia II himself would become involved in the fall of 1991 in an attempt to reconcile the various parties that were moving towards civil war in Georgia at that time.13 His efforts were in vain, and in the first week of January 1992 Gamsaxurdia fled from Tbilisi and though he waged an insurgency in western Georgia, he never won direct power again. Shortly after Gamsaxurdia’s fall from power Eduard Shevardnadze returned to Georgia to take the reins of government, as Chair of the Georgian State Council.14 The latter’s relationship to the Church can be traced to his days as the First Secretary of the Georgian Communist Party and the thaw in church– state relations that began with the Catholicosate of Ilia II. In his role as postSoviet head of state and, subsequently, as elected president, Shevardnadze maintained good relations with the Church. He eventually was baptised by Ilia II, taking the baptismal name of Giorgi.15 He became a patron of the

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Church and funded the rebuilding of the St Nicholas church within the walls of the Nariqala Fortress in Tbilisi. The Shevardnadze government at first officially operated under the revived 1921 Constitution of the Georgian Democratic Republic that had codified a separation of church and state already in existence from the early days of that republic – a separation that had actually been more ‘separate’ in the years of the independent state than the Church had been comfortable with.16 Georgia adopted a new Constitution in 1995 that essentially enshrined the Georgian Orthodox Church as first among equals. Freedom of religion is among the guarantees, but the Constitution also speaks of the historical precedence of Orthodoxy in Georgia. No other religion or Christian denomination is mentioned as having any historical relevance, nor is any other religion or Christian denomination guaranteed a Constitutional Concordat. Article 9 of the Constitution, as amended, reads: 1

2

The state proclaims the full freedom of belief and confession, at the same time acknowledging the special role Georgia’s Apostolic Autocephalous Orthodox Church in Georgia’s history and its independence from the state. The relationship of Georgia’s state and Georgia’s Apostolic Autocephalous Orthodox Church is to be defined by a Constitutional Concordat. The Constitutional Concordat is to be consistent, in general, with all internationally recognized principles and norms, and, specifically, in the sphere of human rights and fundamental human rights.17

Significantly Shevardnadze’s two inaugural addresses are much less enthusiastic about church–state relations than Gamsaxurdia’s. In both the 1995 and 2000 speeches Shevardnadze thanked the Catholicos-Patriarch and the Church for services that were held in connection with his inauguration at the Church of the Living Pillar (Svetic‘xoveli) in the old capital city of Mc‘xet‘a.18 Little else is said about Orthodoxy and its role in society. A very important development in church–state relations is marked by the signing of the Concordat between the government and the Georgian Orthodox Church on 14 October 2002 by President Shevardnadze and Ilia II at a ceremony in the Church of the Living Pillar. This document fleshed out the relationship of the Orthodox Church to the government of the Republic of Georgia and ratified its primary status in the religious sphere.19 The special status of the Georgian Orthodox Church included tax exemptions, clerical release from military service and special legal status of the Patriarch. An official commentary on the Concordat, Sak‘art‘velos saxelmcip‘osa da Sak‘art‘velos samoc‘ik‘ulo avtokep‘alur mart‘lmadidebel eklesias šoris Konstituc‘iuri šet‘anxmebis komentarebi [Commentaries on the Constitutional Concordat between the Government of Georgia and Georgia’s Apostolic Autocephalic Orthodox Church] written by Davit‘ Č‘ikvaiże promoted the

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idea that the Concordat ratified the Georgian Orthodox Church as the official religion of the Republic of Georgia.20 Church–state relations became agitated in 2003, not long before the Rose Revolution,21 when it was announced that the government of Georgia and the Vatican, in its capacity as a government, had made a treaty that covered, among other items, issues surrounding the status of the Roman Catholic Church in Georgia. The Georgian Church had not been consulted on this matter and a firestorm of criticism from the Church, including street demonstrations, scuttled the agreement altogether.22 The place of the Roman Catholic and other churches in Georgia had long been a bone of contention, with the Orthodox Church in Georgia complaining that the Roman Church, and Protestant missionary churches, especially in the early troubled years of Georgian independence, had attempted to proselytise Georgians by means of their wealth and works of charity. While it is true that the Roman Catholic Church wielded wealth and world power that could threaten Orthodoxy, many of the Protestant missions were staffed by people who had virtually no knowledge of the Georgians, their language, history or culture. When the Rose Revolution came in November 2003 the displeasure of the Patriarch over the Georgia–Vatican treaty may have been part of the reason that the Patriarch did not spend any of his own political capital in supporting the Shevardnadze regime as it slipped from power. He cautioned demonstrators not to resort to violence, but otherwise did not take sides. One might characterise the Church’s position in November 2003 as taking a wait-and-see attitude towards the developing political events. Mixeil Saakashvili, a leader of the Rose Revolution and elected President of Georgia in early 2004, has generally been less enthusiastic about church–state relations, and often opposition party politicians, such as Davit Targmadze of the Christian Democratic Party, have exploited this lack of enthusiasm. Saakashvili’s mention of Orthodoxy in his 2004 inaugural address is notable in that he promotes the antiquity of Georgian Christianity as part of the evidence that Georgia has long been a part of Europe:23 [A]t the same time, let us not forget our own belonging to the European family, and a return to the place once lost some centuries ago. As a Christian country with a very old civilisation, we must certainly return to this place. Our course is European integration. Saakashvili’s European project has often come into conflict with the Church, so this statement is not necessarily an endorsement of the Orthodox Church and its place in Georgian society. The effect of the constitutional preference for Orthodoxy, its ratification in the Concordat, and an ongoing ambiguity about the legal standing of other churches, left the Orthodox Church in charge of some practical aspects of other churches’ status, including most significantly a right to interfere in the property rights of other churches.24 This legal ambiguity was to some extent

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overcome by new legislation that came into effect in July 2012. This legislation gave legal status to all religious organisations that were recognised by the European Council. The first two readings of the legislation had included only the seven historical religions and denominations:25 Orthodoxy, Roman Catholicism, Lutherans, Baptists, Jews, Muslims and the Armenian Apostolic Church. The third and final reading of this legislation included the widely expanded definition, with language that read that the law covered religions ‘that the member countries of the European Council legally recognise as religions’.26 The Georgian Orthodox Church had not been consulted on this change and reacted adversely to the broad basis of the new law. Quickly, however, it appeared that the Church had overreacted and had publicly revealed itself as being in favour of restricting religious freedoms. After some consideration of their public stance the Synod of the Georgian Orthodox Church backed down from most of the severe criticism of the new law, although at the same time it asked the Georgian Parliament that the Church be notified in the future of such changes in Georgia’s religious laws.27 While there are some disagreements in Georgian society and in politics about the extent of human rights, the Saakashvili government and his ruling National Movement Party have pushed an agenda that makes European integration an important part of Georgia’s political development. The parliamentary elections in 2012 saw the replacement of President Saakashvili’s United National Movement by Georgia’s Dream coalition led by Bidzina Ivanishvili. In terms of the Orthodox Church’s power there has been little change. By and large, the new government has continued on the path of developing a democratic and pluralistic society in the Republic of Georgia. When a group of demonstrators marking the International Day against Homophobia on 17 May 2013 were set upon by a very large counter-demonstration led by Orthodox priests, Ivanishvili was careful to emphasise that the Georgian Constitution and legal system guaranteed equal rights for all before the law. There was, however, much criticism of Eka Beselia, Chair of the Georgian Parliament’s Human Rights Committee, for her lack of enthusiasm in investigating the violence. Some interpreted this indifference as a victory for the Orthodox Church’s stand against a broad understanding of human rights and their implementation in Georgia. The election of a new president in October 2013 also did little to change the relationship of church and state. The new president, Giorgia Margvelashvili, is a member of the majority parliamentary coalition, Georgia’s Dream. His powers compared to those of previous presidents is much circumscribed according to constitutional amendments.

Ecumenical relations During the Soviet period the Georgian Orthodox Church was largely isolated from the rest of the world. Visitors to Georgia could see what few remnants of the Georgian Orthodox Church survived as a living church. Relics and

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ruins of former churches were everywhere to be seen as monuments to the historical piety of the Georgian nation. Relationships with other Christian denominations and religions were difficult, although small numbers of Armenian Apostolic, Roman Catholic, Baptist and other churches were present in Georgia. Judaism and Islam were historically also present, Judaism since the first millennium BC and Islam from within two generations after the time of the Prophet Muhammad. In 1961 with many other churches in the Soviet Union the Georgian Orthodox Church joined the World Council of Churches. This new involvement of the Orthodox and other churches from within the Soviet Union was often looked upon with suspicion by representatives of churches in the West. Churches in East Europe and the Soviet Union had been promoters of various peace committees since the Second World War and they were normally approached with caution. The suspicion lingered that the peace work of Soviet and East European churches was a method by which to mislead church people in the West into being more favourably inclined towards the Soviet Union. By the time of the fall of the Soviet Union and as the Orthodox churches on Soviet territory had begun to re-establish their identities outside of the framework of official atheism that had reigned since the 1920s, all of Orthodoxy had begun to question its involvement in the ecumenical movement. Some Orthodox churches, such as the Russian Orthodox Church outside Russia and the Holy Orthodox Church in New America,28 had long condemned ecumenism as heresy and a threat to the true Orthodox faith. The Russian Orthodox Church outside Russia was especially wary of the involvement of churches, Orthodox or otherwise, in organisations that came to include the Russian faithful and the Moscow Patriarchate.29 The high point of the Georgian Orthodox Church’s participation in the ecumenical movement came in 1979–83 during Ilia II’s years as one of the presidents of the World Council of Churches (WCC).30 This office does not involve its holder in the day-to-day running of the Council. This is done by church bureaucrats of various sorts in offices in Geneva, Switzerland, and other places around the world. Rather, it was, in part, a sign that Ilia II and the Georgian Orthodox Church were being recognised for their contributions in the transformation of Georgian society. In the mid-1990s, however, conservative and schismatic elements among the Orthodox in Georgia, represented particularly by some monks, were instrumental in the decision made by the Georgian Orthodox Church to leave both the World Council of Churches and the Conference of European Churches (CEC) in 1997.31 Officially, the Georgian synod cited the ‘WCC leadership’s continued efforts to endow the organisation with unified ecclesiological functions’ and the WCC’s alleged ‘failure to take interests of Orthodox churches fully into account’ as reasons for its decision.32 Many of the conservative monks, however, were disciplined for their rebellion, despite the fact that some of their agenda was enacted.

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The post-Soviet atmosphere within the Georgian Church as with other Orthodox churches in post-Soviet space and, indeed, around the world was much less friendly to the idea of participation in ecumenical bodies made up largely of non-Orthodox denominations. While few have been so dramatic as to leave the World Council of Churches and other organisations, there is no particular need, from its Orthodox perspective, for the Georgian Orthodox to rejoin the WCC and CEC. The withdrawal of the Georgian Orthodox Church from ecumenical bodies is significant in the context of relations with other churches and religions within Georgia. When the Georgian Church upholds the notion that Orthodoxy, and only Orthodoxy, possesses the Truth, then the tolerance of alternatives, either Christian or not, is certainly not undertaken from the position of recognising potential or actual equals.33 It should be noted that there remain small dissident Orthodox churches within the Republic of Georgia. One of these initially referred to itself as the ‘True Orthodox Church of Georgia’, but now simply as the ‘Orthodox Church in Georgia’.34 The two parishes in Georgia are directly under the jurisdiction of the Metropolitan of Boston of the Holy Orthodox Church of North America35 – in turn in communion with the True Orthodox Church of Greece. One of the books published by this Orthodox Church in Georgia is Ekumenizmi: Antik‘ristes religia [Ecumenism: Religion of the Antichrist].36 Another schismatic church has among its leaders Fr Basil Mkalavishvili, who became notorious for the violent persecution of non-Orthodox in the Republic of Georgia.37 Fr Basil’s St George’s parish in the Gldani region of Tbilisi belongs to the jurisdiction of the ‘Holy Synod in Resistance’ Old Calendarists in Greece.38 The Georgian Orthodox Church, to some extent, in its withdrawal from ecumenical organisations relied upon the construction of a straw man – the threat of proselytisation – to define itself over against other Christian denominations. Despite Orthodoxy’s numerical advantages in the Republic of Georgia, the Orthodox Church could raise the spectre, as mentioned above, of the worldwide Roman Catholic Church having the money and resources to lead people astray. Protestant missionaries were also understood to have the power and money to woo Orthodox away from their mother church. The latter certainly, in the early days of the new republic, could more often be characterised by their membership in small denominations and by their naiveté concerning Georgian culture, language, history and church history. Almost none of these missionaries knew Georgian or anything about why Georgian culture was different from Russian culture, or for that matter how it was that Georgia was different from the ‘West’. Other ‘sects’, such as the Jehovah’s Witnesses, found themselves openly persecuted and their literature was often confiscated and burned.39 They were labelled as ‘foreign’ sects and were accused of using foreign money to buy what success they had among Georgians. An article in September 2000 speaks of $700,000 worth of outside aid to the Jehovah’s Witnesses in Georgia.40

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Among other of the world religions present in Georgia are Judaism and Islam. Judaism is an ancient religion in Georgia – 2,600 years of Jewish presence in Georgia was celebrated during the presidency of Eduard Shevardnadze. The number of Jews, however, shrank dramatically during the last decades of the Soviet period, despite a history of tolerance for the Georgian Jews. The Georgian Jews took full advantage of Western pressure on the Soviet Union to allow Jewish emigration and tens of thousands left, mainly for Israel, with a small number going to the United States. Islam has had a presence in Georgia since the first century after the time of the Prophet Muhammad. It was historically the religion of two classes of people, soldiers and merchants. Shi‘ism by way of Persia/Iran and Sunni practices by way of Ottoman Turkey were both represented. The wars of the nineteenth century, especially those between Russia and Turkey, were instrumental in lowering the number of Muslims in Georgian territories, as tens of thousands went into exile. The label ‘foreign’ as a way of marking denominations and religions with what might be called a third-class status (lower than the seven historical denominations/religions that are tolerated) is important to a consideration of the Georgian Orthodox Church and its insistence that the definition of the Georgian nation must include its Christian Orthodoxy. The Georgian Orthodox Church has generally had good relations with the Byzantine family of Orthodox churches with which it is in communion. Ilia II has been actively involved in trying to revive historical Georgian presence in various places including Mount Athos and Jerusalem. In Jerusalem the Georgian Orthodox Church has been exploring the possibility that the Monastery of the Holy Cross, currently in the possession of the Orthodox Patriarchate of Jerusalem, might be returned to Georgian ownership. Vandalism of Georgian inscriptions and frescoes, however, has occurred and this adds to tensions between the Georgians and local Orthodox. The major event in the sphere of the Georgian Church’s relations with the Ecumenical Patriarch was the recognition of the former’s autocephaly on 4 March 1990. Ilia II had assembled scholars from several fields to put together the Georgian case before the Patriarchate of Constantinople. Arguments were made for the antiquity of this self-governing status and these were accepted by Patriarch Dimitrios I.41 The Georgian Church has continued to have good relations with the Ecumenical Patriarch; relations that have been affirmed in mutual visits over the generation of Ilia II’s rule. Relationships with the Russian Orthodox Church have sometimes been strained, especially in the context of the separatist territories of Abkhazia and South Ossetia. Orthodox Christians among the Abkhazians have looked to the Russian Church for education and support in the post-Soviet period and especially after the Republic of Georgia lost control of Sukhumi in 1993. Patriarch Ilia II is personally concerned with the territory of Abkhazia, possessing the title of Metropolitan of C‘xum-Ap‘xazet‘i before he was raised to the patriarchate and again assuming that title in recent years. Ilia’s and the

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Georgian Church’s pronouncements about Abkhazia are always predicated on the idea that this territory is, and has always been, an inalienable part of Georgia.

Church, modernity and culture wars Not unrelated to the issues of ecumenism and its rejection are issues of modernity and the place of the Church within the broader society. The Georgian Orthodox Church is an active participant in what might broadly be called a cultural war in the Republic of Georgia. One of the historical developments – or, better, non-developments – of the Orthodox churches in the Soviet period was that they were not able to spend a lot of time educating the clergy and people except in the most basic elements of faith and liturgy. While this was adequate for their mere survival it meant that they were, to a large extent, isolated from the debates of the twentieth century. These debates included discussions the place of women in church and society, sexuality and the development of pluralist societies based on a broad understanding of toleration and human and civil rights. Orthodox churches outside the Soviet sphere have sometimes also engaged with the modern world reluctantly. It is a phenomenon most strongly observed in some churches when converts consider the Orthodox Church to be a fortress against modernity. ‘Cradle Orthodox’ are sometimes more liberal in their thinking on some issues within the Orthodox churches. In the Republic of Georgia the Orthodox Church went from a position of virtually no power under Soviet communist rule to having a central role in the development and definition of Georgian national culture. It has maintained a high profile, spiritually as well and physically. When one contemplates the skyline of the capital city Tbilisi one gets the impression that Tbilisi is decorated with churches. That impression is now ratified by the new Holy Trinity Cathedral that rises on a hill overlooking the Mtkvari River. For the first few years of the Republic of Georgia’s new independent life the Orthodox Church was involved in re-educating its people about the teachings of Orthodoxy. The communists in power had shut off Christian education of nearly all sorts and the Georgian Orthodox Church began its rebirth by teaching the basics. The Georgian Church also helped to redefine time in Georgia. Gone were the holidays of Soviet rule such as the 7 November celebration of the Revolution, back were the holy days of the Christian calendar. Christian Orthodox time, part of the new Georgian reality since Gamsaxurdia’s presidency, was reaffirmed as part of the Constitutional Concordat of 2002. Several institutions of higher education have been opened and maintained by the Georgian Orthodox Church since the 1980s. The first of these is the Tbilisi Spiritual Academy that was opened in October 1988 as a companion to the seminary in Mc‘xet‘a that had sometimes been open during the Soviet period. In 2006 the Georgian Patriarchate opened St Andrew the First-Called Georgian University in Tbilisi. The latter is a college that focuses on history,

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philology, religion and philosophy. It has a strong emphasis, as one might expect, on Georgian history and the Georgian Orthodox Church.42 The Georgian Church has also opened and promoted social service organisations to benefit the poor and dispossessed in Georgian society. The oldest and most important of these organisations is the Lazarus Foundation, headquartered in Tbilisi, with programmes throughout Georgia.43 The Communist Party of the Soviet Union believed itself to be the ultimate guarantor of personal welfare in the Soviet Union and promoted the idea that everything in Soviet society was working towards a future of prosperity and that the churches were both no longer necessary and inimical to the progress the Communists promoted. The Georgian Orthodox Church’s opposition to and ultimate victory over the mounting of an exhibition of Georgian artefacts at the Walters Gallery in Baltimore shows some of the thinking of the Orthodox Church in relation to the Georgian nation. This exhibition was to have opened in October 1999 but was abruptly cancelled earlier that year because of opposition that was led by the Orthodox Church.44 Religious items were to have been included. The way the inclusion of this material and its ‘alienation’ from Georgia were discussed is indicative of the manner in which some Orthodox speak of their piety in relation to the ‘purity’ of Georgia. It was not merely the case the some feared that religious artefacts would be lost or damaged in transit. Rather, and first of all, there was a basic objection to the idea that religious artefacts were the sort of ‘art’ that could appropriately be displayed in any museum exhibit.45 Further, and perhaps more primordial, was the fear that the sacred qualities of the artefacts would be lost if they were alienated from Georgian territory or that the Georgian lands themselves would suffer for the transfer of such material out of the country. Divine protection could be lost. The sacred quality of the Georgian nation would be preserved if the faith were kept. The material goods of that faith are a part of the faith’s fundamental expression. The Georgian Church and its Patriarch Ilia II have been wary of what they consider to be movement in their country towards ‘Western’- or ‘European’style human rights. They are concerned that these rights and freedoms are not properly understood in any religious context but that they are understood in a secular fashion whereby excess freedom leads to licentiousness. Ilia II has consistently been troubled by what he sees as a contradiction between the true freedom of the Christian faith and the sort of freedom that is offered in its ‘Western’ and often non-religious context. For Ilia and the Georgian Church the ‘West’ and Europe are inadequate sources of what is good for Georgian society:46 Today many are deciding on what the path of our country’s development shall be; toward where it should be directed: to the East or toward the West. The West is the world where everything is permitted and where force reigns. It is strong materially, but spiritually weak, since there money has

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become an idol. Earthly benevolence must not entrance us. The past has much to teach us. Already the ancient Greeks and Romans tell us to pursue wealth with great caution. What can be said: there is much good in Europe, but this good is foreign to us and receiving it would be difficult. A contribution to the issues surrounding freedom and pluralism is an article that was translated from Russian and published in the Patriarchate’s newspaper Madli: ‘The Dictatorship of Pluralism’, by Olesia Nikolaeva. Nikolaeva is a Russian poet and essayist who has written extensively about the idea of freedom in relation to the Orthodox Church. In this essay she sets up postmodernism as the villain of the story and proceeds to promote a viewpoint that this can only lead to some idea of absolute freedom and a total lack of morality. The ‘West’ is implicated for supporting these ideas. Missing from the discussion, conveniently, is the historical development of human freedom and human rights that would have touched upon religious notions of the dignity of humankind.47 Since the Rose Revolution in 2003 the Georgian government has been more intentional, if not always successful, in its attempts to promote legislation that integrates the Republic of Georgia into a ‘European’ understanding of civil and human rights. This has provoked discussion from the side of the Georgian Church, including directly from Catholicos-Patriarch Ilia II, about human rights and what really amounts to the Church’s desire to put limits on civil rights, not only in the sphere of religion, but in others as well. Ultra-conservative organisations with the Georgian Orthodox Church have formed to promote their agenda. One of these is the ‘Saint David the Builder Orthodox Parish Union’ formed from the members of a number of different parishes. Their programme concerning the preservation of Orthodox values was published on their website (religia.ge). They have also been engaged in the sometimes heated dispute about Armenian church buildings in the Republic of Georgia. The society’s monograph, Somxet‘i: mteri t‘u moqvare [Armenia: Enemy or Friend], is a general attack on Armenians with one focus on the disputed churches.48 This dispute between Georgians and Armenians has been carried on in the churches as well as in the academic sphere. There are many monographs that argue the merits of each side’s case. A group calling itself the ‘Orthodox Parents’ Union’ has played a role in urging state and society to maintain conservative Orthodox values. They are concerned that the very survival of the nation is threatened by birth control and abortion. This is the main theme of a work published in 2007 that spins a paranoid tale of conspiracy aimed against the Georgian people: Gamoucxadebeli demograp‘iuli omi Sak‘art‘velos cinaaġmdeg [Undeclared Demographic War against Georgia].49 The Parents’ Union is supported by the Catholicos-Patriarch and recently some of its leadership has been singled out for recognition by Ilia II.

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Most recently the Parents’ Union has been in the forefront of opposition to the emerging gay rights movement in Georgia. A small demonstration on 17 May 2013 by supporters of gay rights was met by a number of young men brought by the Parents’ Union to bring physical pressure against the demonstrators. This incident was indicative of a ‘culture war’ that has become more open in the past several years. It should also be noted that the Georgian Parliament recently added the category of sexual orientation to its hate crimes legislation. Thus, while there is a substantial move toward a broader understanding of human and civil rights on the European model, there is also an active backlash that is sometimes aided by the Georgian Church. The Georgian Orthodox Church, one generation after the collapse of the Soviet Union, is at a very important crossroads in its history. It has been one of the more dominant institutions of Georgian society over the past twentyfive years, but now faces both active opposition and indifference from rivals for a place in that society. The adjustment of the Georgian Church to modernity and to democratic pluralism has been difficult. Its future hinges on its ability to confront and adjust to these phenomena that will continue to be important concepts in the Republic of Georgia.

Conclusion A generation has passed since the fall of the Soviet Union when the Republic of Georgia reclaimed its status as an independent nation. Ahead of the curve, the Georgians had already experienced post-communist rule. The Georgian Orthodox Church was, by this time, also well on its way to reform and revival. It was more than ready to play a prominent role in the Georgian society. Catholicos-Patriarch Ilia II, enthroned in 1977, had already begun the process of renewing church life. He became a central figure in Georgian society; a stable and respected pillar in times of political and social crisis. The Georgian Orthodox Church has grown rapidly in the post-Soviet period, with old churches renovated, new churches, built, educational institutions established and social welfare programmes initiated. At the same time as this growth has taken place, the Georgian Orthodox Church has struggled with its place in an increasingly pluralistic and secular setting. It has been zealous to keep its leading role in society while tolerating other options, religious and otherwise. This toleration, however, has not led to a broad acceptance of the ‘competition’. The current political cycle will help to determine the role that the Church has in the near future. Election outcomes could favour some amount of restoration for the Church’s wider role in the development of society. On the other hand, if more secular forces prevail, the Church will have to continue to develop itself as a player in a more pluralistic society. At the same time it will need to deal more broadly with issues that churches in the West dealt with in the twentieth century. With the internet and social media there will be no option for hiding behind geopolitical borders and at a geographical distance.

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Appendix 1

Religious leaders

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Ilia II (Irakli Šiolašvili) (1933–), in office 1977–.

2

Biography

Title: Patriarch-Catholicos of All Georgia, Archbishop of Mc‘xet‘a and T‘bilisi, Metropoliton of Bičvint‘a and C‘xum-Ap‘xazet‘i. Ilia II (Irakli Šiolašvili) was born on 4 January 1933 to a Georgian family in Vladikavkaz, now the capital city of the Republic of North Ossetia within the Russian Federation. His father Giorgi and his mother Natalia Kobaiże are said to have been pious Christians who raised Irakli in their Orthodox faith, in so far as that was possible in the years of aggressive atheism under Stalin. After schooling in Vladikavkaz, Irakli studied at the Moscow and Zagorsk seminaries. During this period on 16 April 1957 he became a monk, taking the name Ilia. He was ordained a deacon two days later and a monk-priest on 10 May 1959. Ilia’s rise in the Georgian hierarchy was swift, thanks to his intelligence and piety and to the shortage of qualified monks in the Georgian Church. At the age of thirty he was elected bishop and first served as the bishop of the Šemok‘medi diocese. From 1967 until his enthronement as Patriarch-Catholicos in 1977 Ilia was the bishop of C‘xum-Ap‘xazet‘i [Sukhumi-Abkhazia], from 1969 bearing the title of Metropolitan. From 1963 to 1972 Ilia was the Rector of the Mc‘xet‘a Theological Seminary. Ilia has been a President of the World Council of Churches and active in many world Orthodox settings. He personally gathered evidence to convince the Orthodox churches that the Georgian Church’s ancient autocephaly should again be recognised. He has been instrumental in expanding the hierarchy of the Church and encouraging the revitalisation of parish life, physically in terms of buildings and spiritually in terms of educating the faithful in the fundamentals of their religion. The Church’s role in social welfare has importantly been restored and increased during Ilia’s years. Ilia II’s in his long reign as Patriarch-Catholicos of the Georgian Church has both greatly influenced Georgian society with his moral authority and witnessed changes in that society that could not have been foreseen at the time of his accession to the patriarchal throne 3

Theological publications

• • • •

Kalendari50 Jvari vazisa [Grapevine Cross]51 Madli [Grace]52 Aleluia

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• • • • • •

Axalgazrdoba [Youth] Sapatriark‘os ucqebani [Patriarchate Communications] T‘anamemamule [Compatriot]53 Maqvlovani [Place Protected by the Bramble Bush]54 Gza da česmariteba [Way and Truth] Lazares aġdgineba [Raising of Lazarus].55

4

Congregations

Structure of the Church: The Georgian Orthodox Church is headed by the Catholicos-Patriarch. Its administrative functions are divided territorially into eparchies that are headed by bishops or archbishops; some are called metropolitan archbishops. In Orthodoxy the title ‘metropolitan’ is added either by the importance of the eparchy or diocese in question or according to the personal dignity of the current incumbent. Congregations and monasteries in Georgia relate to the leadership of the various eparchies. The bishops and archbishops together form the Holy Synod, which meets periodically to discuss matters of discipline, doctrine and ecclesial life. There are a number of churches among Georgians in their small diaspora. Ilia II has been solicitous of their well-being. Congregations can be found in Paris, Munich, near Washington, DC and in other places in Western Europe and the United States. Often representatives of the Georgian Orthodox Church attempt to persuade Georgians to return to their homeland, considering time away from Georgian to be a temporary phenomenon.56 Number of clergy and church buildings: There are currently over 1,000 clergy in the Georgian Orthodox Church, over 800 churches and 53 monasteries.57 5

Population58

The ethnic breakdown of the Republic of Georgia according to its 2002 census was as follows: Georgian 83.8 per cent, Azeri 6.5 per cent, Armenian 5.7 per cent, Russian 1.5 per cent, other 2.5 per cent. Native languages are as follows: Georgian (official) 71 per cent, Russian 9 per cent, Armenian 7 per cent, Azeri 6 per cent, other 7 per cent; Abkhazian, by definition of the Republic of Georgia, an official language of Abkhazia. The official religious statistics, from the 2002 census: Orthodox Christian 83.9 per cent, Muslim 9.9 per cent, Armenian Church 3.9 per cent, Catholic 0.8 per cent, others 0.8 per cent, none 0.7 per cent. It should be noted that the Armenian Church is part of a communion sometimes called ‘Oriental Orthodox’ that includes Copts and others that are not in communion with the Orthodox churches linked historically to Constantinople. Total population: 4,570,934 (July 2011).

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Table 7.1 Eparchy/church statistics (number of churches and monasteries) in the Georgian Orthodox Church, 1977–2007 Eparchy

Eparchy created or re-created

2007 figures

Mc‘xet‘a-T‘bilisi Rust‘avi and Marneuli K‘ut‘ais-Gaenat‘i Manglisi and Calki T‘erjoli and Tqibuli Ruisi and Urbnisi C‘xum-Ap‘xazet‘i Alaverdi W. Europe Nekresi and Heret‘i Šemok‘medi Nik‘ozi and C‘xinvali P‘ot‘i and Xobi Axalk‘alak‘i and Kumurdo Axalc‘ixe and Tao-Klarjet‘i Bat‘umi and K‘obulet‘i Zugdidi and C‘aiši T‘ianet‘i and P‘šav-Xevsuret‘i Ubisi Cilkani Borjomi and Bakuriani Nikorcminda Xoni and Samtredi Vani and Baghdadi Bodbe Samt‘avisi and Gori Čqondidi C‘ageri and Lentexi Mestia and Upper Svanet‘i Gurjaani and Velisc‘ixe Sagarejo and Ninocminda Dmanisi Step‘ancminda and Xevi Senaki and Č‘xorocqu Bolnisi Xulo and Sxalt‘i Čiaturi and Sač‘xeri Totals

– – – – 2007 – – – 2002 – – – 1995 – – – – – 2002 – 1995 – 1995 1995 – – – – 2002 2002 1995 2003 2002 2003 1995 2007 1995

200 18 90 15 5 100 0 40 14 7 49 6 8 5 26 29 6 5 10 10 15 10 12 22 10 15 20 10 8 10 11 8 10 10 8 10 20 852

Note: Vardosaniże, Ilia II, pp. 219–24. These statistics are not exact. Some figures are given as ‘up to [n]’, while others are rendered as ‘more than [n]’. They do give a good sense, however, of the rapid development of the Georgian Orthodox Church. In eparchies founded after 1977 numbers for that year are given according to those churches within the future eparchy’s territory.

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Notes 1 Manana Sanadiraże (ed.), 9 aprili, T‘bilisi: ‘Merani’; ‘Sabčot‘a Sak‘art‘velo’, 1990. 2 The official name is Sak‘art‘velos samoc‘ik‘ulo avtokep‘aluri mart‘lmadidebeli eklesia, i.e. Georgia’s Apostolic Autocephalous Orthodox Church. In the chapter I will be using the American Library Association/Library of Congress tables of romanisation: http://www.loc.gov/catdir/cpso/roman.html (accessed 13 September 2012). Translations of Georgian titles will also be provided. 3 On the drama surrounding Ilia II’s election, see Sergo Vardosaniże, Sruliad Sak‘art‘velos Kat‘olikos-Patriark‘i Ucmidesi da Unetaresi Ilia II [His Holiness and Beatitude Ilia II, Catholicos-Patriarch of All Georgia], T‘bilisi: Gamomc‘emloba ‘Nat‘lisc‘emloba’, 2008, pp. 114–38. 4 ‘Georgian Orthodox Metropolitan sentenced’, Religion in Communist Lands: http://www.biblicalstudies.org.uk/pdf/rcl/08–2_143.pdf (accessed 13 September 2012). Vardosaniże, Sruliad, p. 217, laments the fact that the trial of Metropolitan Gaioz was used for anti-church propaganda. 5 The role of the Orthodox Church in Imperial Russia is far more complex than is generally acknowledged. For a discussion of the late imperial period, see: James W. Cunningham, A Vanquished Hope: The Movement for Church Renewal in Russia, 1905–1906, Crestwood, NY: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 1981. See also any number of articles by Gregory L. Freeze, including: ‘Russian Orthodoxy: Church, People, and Politics in Imperial Russia’, Cambridge History of Russia, vol. 2, Imperial Russia, ed. Dominic Lieven, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2006, pp. 284–305. 6 K‘et‘evan Pavliašvili, Sak‘art‘velos samoc‘ik‘ulo mart‘lmadidebluri eklesiis istoria, 1800–1945 [History of the Apostolic Orthodox Church of Georgia, 1800–1945], T‘bilisi: 2008. 7 Several samizdat articles are relevant in this context: Shio Avalishvili et al., ‘Obrashchenie k ‘Synam Gruzii’ o nyneshnem polozhenii ᷇tserkvi’ ᷆ [Appeal to the ‘Sons of Georgia’ on the Present Condition of the Church], Arkhiv samizdata [AS], no. 5242, Tbilisi: 10 January 1983; Shio Avalishvili, ‘Poslednoe pismo KatolikosuPatriakhu Gruzinskoĭ pravoslavnoĭ ᷇tserkvi ᷆ Ilii II o nyneshnem polozhenii v ᷇tserkvi’ ᷆ [The Latest Letter to the Catholicos-Patriarch of the Georgian Orthodox Church, Ilia II, on the Present Condition of the Church], AS, no. 5343, Tbilisi: 30 June 1983; Zviad Gamsaxurdia, ‘Otkrytoe pismo Katolikosu-Patriarku vsei ᷇ia᷆ Gruzii Ilii II’ [An Open letter to Catholicos-Patriarch of All Georgia, Ilia II], AS, no. 5241, Tbilisi: 19 December 1982; Gruppa gruzinskikh verȗiȗshchikh khristian, ‘O polozhenii Pravoslavnoĭ tserkvi v Gruzii’ [A Group of Christian Believers, ‘On the condition of the Orthodox Church in Georgia’], AS, no. 1821a, Tbilisi: 14 March 1974. 8 Sak‘art‘velos prezidentebis sainaugurac‘io sitqvebi 1991–2004 clebi: krebuli [Inaugural Addresses of the Presidents of Georgia, 1991–2004: Collection], T‘bilisi: ‘Axali azri’, 2007, pp. 12–14. 9 Ibid., pp. 17–18. 10 The received history of the Georgian Orthodox Church includes the recollection that the Blessed Virgin Mary, at the time of Pentecost, when the mission fields of the new religion were being mapped out, drew Georgia’s lot. The theme of Georgia as the ‘Lot [cilxvreda] of the Theotokos’ is accompanied by the story that Mary was told by her risen Son that her earthly life would soon end and that Andrew would take her place. St Andrew, the First Called [in the Gospel of John], then becomes the Apostolic founder of the Orthodox Church in Georgia. 11 Sometimes called ‘Steinerism’ after its founder Rudolf Steiner (1861–1925). Subsequent articles in church publications that criticise Steinerism can

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13 14

15 16 17

18 19 20

21

22

23 24

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be interpreted as ex post facto criticisms of Gamsaxurdia. Two essays by Gamsaxurdia, ‘K‘ebay da didebay k‘a[r]t‘ulisa enisay’ [Praise and Glory of the Georgian Language] and ‘Sak‘art‘velos sulieri misia’ [Georgia’s Spiritual Mission], are instructive for understanding the developments of Gamsaxurdia’s own faith. Zviad Gamsaxurdia, Cerilebi, esseebi [Articles, Essays], T‘bilisi: Xelovneba, 1991, pp. 3–45, 191–227. ‘Ant‘roposop‘ia: štainerizmis šesaxeb’ [Anthroposophy: About Steinerism], Madli [Grace], January 2003, 13 (1–2), 15–16: ‘Anthroposophy is an anti-Christian, occultic-mystical teaching about humanity that the German theosophist Rudolf Steiner (1861–1925) fabricated.’ Vardonsaniże, Ilia II, pp. 291–6. By this time Shevardnadze had already played his part in the era of Gorbachev’s perestroika and in some of the foreign policy decisions that would eventually lead to the dissolution of the Soviet Union. While he is celebrated in the West for this role, Russia’s conservative ruling classes have never forgiven him. On Shevardnadze’s personal faith, including his baptism, see Ilia II’s article, ‘Nat‘loba’ [Baptism], in Ševardnaże, T‘bilisi: ‘Samšoblos p‘orte’, 1998, pp. 23–7. Sergo Vardosaniże, Sak‘art‘velos mart‘lmadidebeli samoc‘ik‘ulo eklesia 1917– 1952 clebši [The Orthodox Apostolic Church of Georgia 1917–1952], T‘bilisi: ‘Mec‘niereba, 2001, pp. 33–4. Translate from the Georgian at: http://www.cec.gov.ge/files/2012/KANONEBI/ KONSTITUCIA/_%E1%83%99%E1%83%9D%E1%83%9C%E1%83%A1%E1 %83%A2%E1%83%98%E1%83%A2%E1%83%A3%E1%83%AA%E1%83%98 %E1%83%901.pdf (accessed 13 September 2012). The wording reflects language current from 2001. Sak‘art‘velos prezidentebis, pp. 19, 29. http://www.patriarchate.ge/_en/?action=eklesia-saxelmcifo (accessed 13 September 2012). Davit‘ Č‘ikvaiże, Sak‘art‘velos saxelmcip‘osa da Sak‘art‘velos samoc‘ik‘ulo avtokep‘alur mart‘lmadidebel eklesias šoris Konstituc‘iuri šet‘anxmebis komenatariebi [Commentaries on the Constitutional Concordat between the Government of Georgia and Georgia’s Apostolic Autocephalic Orthodox Church], T‘bilisi, 2005, p. 7. In Georgian the term for what is called in English the ‘Rose Revolution’ is ‘Vardebis revoluc‘ia’, i.e. ‘The Revolution of the Roses’. It is incorrect to call this a ‘colour revolution’ as it is so often in the West. Otherwise it would have to be in Georgian ‘Vardisp‘eris revolucia’. Nicole Winfield, ‘Vatican rebukes Georgia, Orthodox Church’, Worldwide Religious News, 20 September 2003: http://wwrn.org/articles/856/ (accessed 13 September 2012). See also ‘Saprotesto ak‘c‘ia Sak‘art‘velo-Vatikanis xelšekrulebis cinaaġmdeg’ [Protest against Georgian–Vatican Treaty]’, Civil.ge, 19 September 2003: http://www.civil.ge/geo/article.php?id=4817 (accessed 13 September 2012). Sak‘art‘velos prezidentebis, 47. The author recalls a conversation with the Rector of the Roman Catholic SulxanSaba Orbeliani School of Theology in which he complained about the control of the Orthodox Church in regards to property rights. See also, Felix Corley, ‘Georgia: religious minorities still second-class faiths?’, Forum 18 News Service, 15 November 2005. These seven had been defined elsewhere as historically present in Georgia and represented histories that predated the twentieth century. From Georgia’s Ministry of Justice website: https://matsne.gov.ge/index. php?option=com_ldmssearch&view=docView&id=1397061 (accessed 13 September 2012).

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27 ‘Sruliad Sak‘art‘velos Kat‘olikos-Patriark‘is ganc‘xadeba’ [Communique of the Patriarch-Catholicos of All Georgia], 4 July 2011; ‘Sak‘art‘velos saptriark‘os ganc‘xadeba’ [Communique of the Georgian Patriarchate], 6 July 2011; ‘Cmida sinodis sxdomis ok‘mi’ [Acts of the Meeting of the Holy Synod], 11 July 2011. From the website of the Georgian Patriarchate: www.patriarchate.ge (accessed 13 September 2012). 28 The latter has its headquarters at the Holy Transfiguration Monastery in Brookline, MA. This church and the Russian Church outside Russia were once in communion, but they went their separate ways in the 1980s. 29 The Struggle against Ecumenism, Brookline, MA: Holy Transfiguration Monastery, 1998, is a detailed attack on the involvement of Orthodox Church in the twentieth century’s ecumenical movements. 30 Vardosaniże, Ilia II, p. 205. 31 Andrey Zolotov, ‘Georgian Orthodox Church to leave WCC and CEC’, Ecumenical News International, ENI News Service, 26 May 1997: http://orthodoxinfo.com/ ecumenism/georgia_wcc.aspx (accessed 13 September 2012). 32 Ibid., citing the Metaphrasis religious news agency based in Moscow. 33 See Gvanc‘a Koplataże, ‘Rjult‘šemcqnarebloba k‘art‘uli erisa’ [Religious Tolerance of the Georgian People], Sami saunje, 2011, 2 (2), 50–8. 34 ‘In’ not ‘of’, thus differentiating itself from the established church. 35 See note 28, above. 36 Ekumenizmi: Antik‘ristes religia [Ecumenism: Religion of the Anti-Christ], T‘bilisi: Mart‘lmadidebeli eklesia Sak‘art‘veloši, 2002. It is similar in its tone to some publications of ROCOR’s Holy Trinity Monastery in Jordanville, NY and to the Holy Transfiguration Monastery’s Struggle against Ecumenism. 37 ‘Religious Intolerance in the Republic of Georgia’, Religious Tolerance website, 2001: http://www.religioustolerance.org/rt_georg.htm (accessed 13 September 2012). 38 See the website of the Old Calendar Orthodox Church of Greece: Holy Synod in Resistance: http://www.synodinresistance.org (accessed 13 September 2012); Fr Basil himself appeared to act with impunity during the presidency of Eduard Shevardnadze and it is said that the prominent politician Guram Shuradze was Fr Basil’s primary protector. Upon the accession of Mixeil Saakashvili to the presidency, however, Fr Basil lost his protection and was arrested within weeks of the new regime’s accession to power. 39 Liz Fuller, ‘Georgians increasingly intolerant of Jehovah’s Witnesses’, RFE/RL Newsline, 29 April 1999. 40 K‘et‘i Bežiašvili, ‘Č‘ven sarcmunoebisa da kanonis sašualebit‘ vibrżvit’ [We Should Struggle by Means of Faith and Law], Meridiani 44, 11 September 2000, accessed through: www.opentext.org.ge/00/meridiani/100/100–5.htm (accessed 13 September 2012). 41 Vardosaniże, Ilia II, pp. 173–8. 42 Further information on this important institution of higher education can be seen on its website: http://www.sangu.ge/ (accessed 13 September 2012). 43 For information on the mission and work of this foundation see its website: http:// www.lazarus.org.ge (accessed 13 September 2012). 44 The exhibition catalogue was published in Ori Z. Soles (ed.), National Treasures of Georgia, London: Philip Wilson, 1999. This catalogue is to be commended for its photographs of objects to be included in the exhibit. The accompanying text, however, has suffered from editorial interference that added inaccuracies to the texts that had been submitted by experts in the field. 45 In an interview for the newspaper Sak‘art‘velo [Georgia], a Fr Zak‘aria of the Sioni [Zion] cathedral in Tbilisi referred to the exhibition of religious artefacts as

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a ‘sin’. ‘T‘u xatebi Sak‘art‘velos datoveben, didi ubedureba dagvatqdeba t‘avs’ [If the icons are taken from Georgia, a great catastrophe will take place], Sak‘art‘velo, 4–10 May 1999. Ilia II, ‘Sašobao epistole’ [Christmas Letter], 1994–5. Epistoleni, sitqvani, k‘adagebani [Letters, Speeches, Sermons], T‘bilisi: Sak‘art‘velos Sapatriak‘os gamomc‘emloba, 1997, pp. 1–305. Olesia Nikolaeva, ‘Plurazmis dik‘tatura’ [Dictatorship of Pluralism], Madli, 2001, no. 7/8; republished in ‘Madlis’ 1990–2010 clebis krebuli [Collection from Madli (Grace) 1990–2011], T‘bilisi: Sak‘art‘velos Sapatriark‘os gamomc‘emloba, 2010, pp. 329–32. This is a chapter from her book Pravoslavia i svoboda: ‘Diktatura pl̑ iȗralizma’. It is interesting perhaps to note here that one of the most important members of the UN’s Commission on Human Rights, chaired by Eleanor Roosevelt and responsible for the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, was an Orthodox layperson from Lebanon named Charles Malik. See Mary Ann Glendon, A World Made New: Eleanor Roosevelt and the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, New York: Random House, 2001. Somxet‘i: mteri t‘u moqvare [Armenia: Enemy or Friend], T‘bilisi: Cm. Mep‘e Davit‘ Aġmašeneblis saxelobis mart‘lmadidebeli mrevlis kavširi, 2006. Gamoucxadebeli demograp‘iuli omi Sak‘art‘velos cinaaġmdeg [Undeclared War against Georgia], T‘bilisi: Mart‘lmadidebel mšobelt‘a kavširi, 2007. The Georgian Orthodox Church, at first slowly, began to expand the number of its publications during the last Soviet period. The annual Kalendari was issued in a hardback edition that served not only as a resource for knowing when the feasts and fasts of the Church would take place, but also became an important education tool for believers whose Christian education had long been severely restricted, if not completely forbidden. The 1979 Kalendari contains, for example, the Nicene Creed and a number of different prayers. Sak‘art‘velos eklesiis kalendari, T‘bilisi: Sak‘art‘velos sakat‘olikos gamoc‘ema, 1979, pp. 248–304. The 1980 Kalendari includes a version of the Book of Psalms and an explanation of the seven sacraments of the Orthodox Church. Sak‘art‘velos eklesiis kalendari, T‘bilisi: Sak‘art‘velos sakat‘olikos gamoc‘ema, 1980, pp. 211–359, 360–[6]. This journal was a combination of recent news of the Georgian Orthodox Church and articles on various aspects of history. In June 1990 a monthly newspaper Madli [Grace] was started by the Patriarchate. Madli is still being printed and the Patriarchate has since 2010 published collections of its articles in hardback editions. See note 47, above. Since the re-establishment of Georgian independence the number of Orthodox serial publications has grown immensely. The Patriarchate issues a number of publications for children (Aleluia), youth (Axalgazrdoba [Youth]), and adults (Sapatriark‘os ucqebani [Patriarchate Communications]), as well as for Georgians who are living outside the Republic of Georgia (T‘anamemamule [Compatriot]). Many of the exarchates and some local parishes of the Georgian Church also publish periodical literature (Gza da česmariteba [Way and Truth] – publication of the Alaverdi Eparchy). For a useful snapshot of Orthodox and other religious periodicals available in Georgia in 2004, see Paul Crego, ‘Annotated Survey of Georgian Religious Periodical Literature Available 29 May 2004–13 June 2004 in Tbilisi and Mcxeta’, MELANotes, 2005, no. 78, pp. 29–40: http://www.mela.us/MELANotes/ MELANotes78/MELANotes78Full.pdf (accessed 13 September 2012). Other institutions, such as convents, publish their own journals (Maqvlovani [Place Protected by the Bramble Bush] – publication of St Nino’s Women’s Monastery at Samt‘avro Church in Mcxeta). This is a reference to the bramble bush under which St Nino was said to have lived when she first arrived in Mc‘xet‘a. The word used for the bush in Mok‘c‘evay K‘art‘lisay [The Conversion of Georgia] is the same

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used in Old Georgian for the burning bush out of which God speaks to Moses in Exodus 3. See Stephen H. Rapp, Jr and Paul Crego, ‘The Conversion of K‘art‘li: The Shatberdi Variant, Kek.Inst. S-1141’, Le Muséon, 2006, 119, 169–225. Independent Orthodox publications, with or without the blessing of Ilia II, have also been published in some quantity. An early one, with the blessing of the Catholicos-Patriarch, was Lazares aġdgineba [Raising of Lazarus]. This journal was published 1980–2006 [?]. In a broader context, church history was revived as a category of study and dozens of monographs have now been published on a variety of church history topics, as well as collections of sermon. The present author heard just such a call for return from a Georgian archbishop visiting the OCA cathedral of St. Nicholas in Washington, DC. The numbers of monasteries and clergy are taken from the Georgian Patriarchate website: patriarchate.ge (accessed 13 September 2012). CIA World Factbook: http://www.google.com/webhp?rlz=1C1RNPN_ enUS421US481&sourceid=chrome-instant&ie=UTF-8#hl=en&rlz=1C1RNPN_ enUS421US481&output=search&sclient=psy-ab&q=cia%20facts%20 georgia&oq=&gs_l=&pbx=1&fp=4a7734df38a3f986&bav=on.2,or.r_gc.r_pw.r_ qf.,cf.osb&biw=1024&bih=643 (accessed 13 September 2012).

8

The Orthodox Church of Cyprus Victor Roudometof and Irene Dietzel

The Orthodox Church of Cyprus (OCC) belongs to the group of Orthodox churches that did not experience communism. However, its role in the island’s political life changed considerably over the second half of the twentieth century. This chapter outlines the Church’s continuing important public role, as well as the broader appeal Orthodox Christianity maintains among the Greek Cypriot Orthodox community. For this purpose, the chapter addresses a series of important institutional developments. These culminated in the election of Archbishop Chrysostomos II in 2006 and the subsequent drafting of a new Constitution. The new Constitution made important changes relating to a broad spectrum of issues. The chapter examines the Church’s engagements with regard to education, cultural heritage, EU-related and inter-faith dialogue issues. These engagements illustrate the multifaceted and complex involvement of the Church in an entire range of topics relevant to society and culture in Cyprus.

The Church’s public role and individual religiosity Since the early twentieth century, the OCC has played an important role in providing institutional and political leadership for the Greek Cypriot community.1 The Church offered national leadership to the Greek Cypriot movement towards union with Greece, and its leader, Archbishop Makarios III, was first President of the Republic of Cyprus (1960–77). This aspect of the Church’s involvement (referred to in Greek as ethnarchia) was effectively terminated in 1977 with the passing of Makarios III. Henceforth, Cyprus’s political system effectively assumed full control.2 In this regard, the post1977 era was a period of readjustment to a newfound cultural, social and political role. Undoubtedly, the principal event in the social, political and cultural life of contemporary Cyprus was the 1974 Turkish invasion, which was followed by ethnic cleansing of the island’s two parts. The result was that in Northern Cyprus became the place to which Turkish Cypriots fled, while Greek Cypriots fled to the Southern part. The post-1974 Republic of Cyprus effectively controls only the southern part of the island but remains the only internationally recognised state in the island – as the Northern part’s 1983

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unilateral declaration of the Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus (TRNC) did not lead to the international community’s recognition. The post-1974 Republic is inhabited by an overwhelming majority of Greek Cypriots who are Orthodox Christians (see the population figures in this chapter’s appendix). Over the post-1974 era, Greek Cypriots interpreted the 1974 events and the subsequent ethnic cleansing as a violent and painful cultural trauma.3 To rectify this painful emotional scar, they insisted on a vision of a future solution to the ‘Cyprus issue’, whereby displaced Cypriots would be able to return to their ancestral homelands (villages and towns). The Church, once the national rallying point of the entire Greek Cypriot political community, having relinquished in 1977 the role of political leadership, has nevertheless maintained a critical role in promoting, preserving and communicating this popular vision. By doing so, the Church has not only effectively acted as a powerful broker representing popular visions for the future, but it has also used its role as protector of the Greek Cypriot community to preserve, maintain and even enhance its status in a rapidly modernising society. When a Church has the ability to use the perception of an external national threat – while at the same time not obstructing the state’s modernisation initiatives – it can effectively use its appeal to the nation to prevent the onset of secularisation.4 From this point of view, and as the statistics reported below attest to, the OCC has been quite effective in applying this strategy. Institutionally, and as in the case of the other Orthodox churches in most of the predominantly Orthodox part of Europe, the OCC’s religious hierarchs typically use their positions to appear as guardians of the Greek Cypriot community and therefore align the Church’s interests with national interests. For example, in December 2010, on the occasion of an upcoming meeting between the Greek Cypriot and Turkish Cypriot leadership, Archbishop Chrysostomos II addressed UN Secretary-General Ban Ki-Moon as follows: ‘If, on other occasions like for instance Iraq, the Organisation which you head has allowed a war to take place against a country that had invaded another country, is it too much to ask for the restoration of our own violated rights in the same way?’5 During the debates that ensued prior to the 2004 referendum over the Annan Plan (i.e. the ill-fated plan to reunify the island on the basis of a compromise solution proposed by UN Secretary Kofi Annan), most of the religious hierarchs – including Bishop of Paphos Chrysostomos, who later ascended the Archiepiscopal Throne – came out against the plan. Since his ascension, Archbishop Chrysostomos II has repeatedly and consistently criticised the post-2008 strategy of negotiations pursued by the left-wing President of the Republic of Cyprus Dimitris Christofias.6 This critical stance is based overwhelmingly on nationalist grounds. While the Archbishop’s critical remarks against the President and his post-2008 centre-left coalition government have been favourite topics of heated debate in local politics, the Church’s political role remains that of the self-declared protector of the entire Greek Cypriot community. The Church’s hierarchy has repeatedly made it abundantly clear that it does not aim at entering politics in its own right, nor does it intend to

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make explicit statements castigating specific candidates.7 This is also echoed in survey results, in which 82.4 per cent of Cypriots felt that religious leaders should not attempt to influence government decision-making. Furthermore, 70.2 per cent of the respondents agreed with the statement that religious leaders influence governmental decision-making, an indication of the widespread perception that the OCC extends considerable influence upon the government.8 That being the case, it is obviously quite clear from individual hierarchs’ own statements that their sympathies do not, by and large, lie with the Communist Party (Anorthotiko Komma Ergazomenou Laou [AKEL]) and the left. While this is true of the Archbishop and many other high clergy, it does not necessarily reflect the entire hierarchy: Bishop Nikiforos, for example, as well as the Bishop of Morfou, are considered sympathetic to AKEL and this is echoed in their statements on the ‘Cyprus issue’ and on domestic politics. AKEL reciprocated, by making an explicit appeal to its voters to support Bishop Nikiforos in his ultimately failed effort to ascend to the Archiepiscopal Throne in the course of the 2006 elections.9 Levels of individual religiosity obtained through a series of recently conducted international surveys (International Social Survey [ISSP], World Values Survey [WVS] and European Values Study [EVS]) confirm the broad appeal of religion, and the special status of Orthodox Christianity and the OCC among the public. In all major surveys the majority of Orthodox Cypriots reported high levels of belief in God and self-identified as Orthodox. Using the most recently conducted survey10 as the point of reference, results indicate that among those inhabiting the Republic of Cyprus 97.2 per cent selfidentified as Orthodox, 97.9 per cent believed in God, 93.1 per cent declared that religion is very important or quite important in their lives and 93 per cent self-identified as ‘religious persons’. This high importance of God in the respondents’ lives is not isolated, as the World Values Survey’s results recorded similarly high figures.11 The significance of Orthodox Christianity is revealed in the importance respondents attach to specific religious rituals: baptism (91.4 per cent), weddings (96.2 per cent) and funerals (98.1 per cent) are rituals that hold overwhelming religious value. The Church is not an institution marked by high levels of public involvement, a mere 5.5 per cent declaring that they are involved in a religious organisation (e.g., local parish or affiliated associations). Of the EVS respondents, 55 per cent attended religious services at least once a month, 33 per cent only on specific holy days, 5.7 per cent once a year or even less frequently and 5.2 per cent practically never. In contrast, 84.8 per cent reported that they attended church at least once a month when they were aged twelve, thereby clearly suggesting that a number of people have decreased their frequency of church attendance. This finding is corroborated by the 1998 ISSP results, in which religious attendance related to gender and motherhood: respondents indicated that, while they were children, 71.2 per cent of their mothers attended religious services once or more often per

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month.12 Only 2.3 per cent of mothers never attended church or did no less than once a year. As young children between the ages of eleven and twelve, a majority (54 per cent) attended church services at least once a week, while only 5.3 per cent attended church more than once a week.13 When compared with Greek data on church attendance,14 Greek Cypriots appear to have a higher degree of regular church attendance. Cyprus’s public, therefore, appears to hold particularly strong religious views: 52.3 per cent declared their belief that there is only one true religion, suggesting that while there is widespread acceptance of other religious traditions, there is also a strong predisposition favouring Orthodoxy as the only true faith. In contrast to the Church’s overwhelming appeal in semiotic terms (e.g., in terms of serving as an essential component of Greek Cypriot identity) as well as in terms of attachment to religious rituals, only 58.6 per cent responded affirmatively to whether the Church offers answers to moral problems, with similar figures reported with regard to family problems (58.5 per cent) and social problems (50.8 per cent). It is clear that the OCC has considerable room to increase its public engagement and acceptance regarding these more modern concerns. The Church has, however, shown its commitment to the problem of drug abuse, campaigning to raise awareness of addiction among Cypriot youth. In 1994, the OCC initiated the welfare cooperative KENTHEA (Kentro Enimerosis kai Therapeias Exartimenon Atomon), which maintains rehabilitation centres in the larger cities. The organisation is currently presided over by Metropolitan Isaiah of Tamasos and Orineia, while the seat of the organisation lies within the bounds of his metropolitan see. In the battle against drug abuse, the Church aims to complement the ‘secular methods’ which in and of themselves are seen as insufficient. The presence of drugs and the increase of drug abuse among Cypriots are principally attributed to rapid urbanisation following displacement of populations in 1974, as well as the influx of drugs from the occupied areas. Tourism is also singled out as responsible, as it brings both drugs and addicts to the island.15

Institutional restructuring: the 2006 elections and the new Constitution In addition to the office of the Archbishop the pre-2006 list of local metropolitanates included the age-old sees of Paphos, Kition, Kyrenia, Limassol, the more recent addition of the See of Morphou (founded with the 1980 amendment to the Church’s statutes) and the Episcopal See of Arsinoe (added in 1996). A number of assistant bishops were included in the OCC’s Synod under the authority of one of the other bishops. The Synod’s small size prevented it from functioning effectively and forced dependency on the participation of outside higher clergy in making decisions. As a result of the 2006 elections this situation changed dramatically. The ailing Archbishop Chrysostomos I suffered from Alzheimer’s disease, forcing the Synod to declare the throne vacant and hold new elections. The Synod’s deliberations

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lasted for years and became marked by intense administrative conflict between different contenders for the throne. Finally, in 2006 the Ecumenical Patriarch was called to intervene, and as a result of his mediation the throne was finally declared vacant, thereby paving the way for elections. These elections took place with the laity’s participation and resulted in a highly partisan and politicised process.16 The end result was the election of Chrysostomos II as the new Archbishop. His election was the result of negotiations among rival candidates as well as strong support within the religious hierarchy, as Chrysostomos received barely more than 10 per cent of the popular vote. This lack of popular endorsement, however, did not necessarily prevent the new Archbishop from effectively managing the Office’s affairs. In fact, Chrysostomos II’s first official initiative after his assumption of office was to oversee the development and introduction of a new Constitution, which was promptly enacted in 2010. The old Constitution dated from 1914 and although revised in 1970 and 1980, it was self-evident from the political turmoil of the 2006 elections that the electoral system ought to be revised in order to avoid such debacles in the future. The revisions made in the new Constitution were not limited to the electoral system but also extended into structural, economic and juridical matters.17 First, the Constitution increased the overall number of episcopal and metropolitan sees in Cyprus. To the already existing sees the new Constitution added the newly instituted metropolitan dioceses of Konstantias-Famagusta, Kykkos and Tylleria, Tamasos and Oreines and Trimythounta, as well as the Episcopal provinces of Karpasia and Amathounta. The latter two provinces are subjected to the ordinance of the Archbishopric and the Metropolitan See of Limassol, respectively. In addition, the new Constitution formally proscribed the establishment of two positions of auxiliary bishops at the Archbishopric. This structural enlargement has the direct consequence of a ‘full Synod’ (that is, a synod with a minimum of fifteen members) and thereby enabled the OCC to hitherto free itself from the obligation to neighbouring Orthodox churches for the solution of its own internal conflicts. In the Archbishop’s words, through the increase of the number of sees, the OCC practically regained its capacity to operate as a fully autocephalous church – a capacity it lost in the reduction in the number of bishoprics during the period of Catholic rule, originally under the Lusignans (1191–1489) and subsequently under Venice (1489–1571).18 The new Constitution made further geographical restructuring through the transfer of parts of the Nicosia diocese to the Kyrenia diocese, which (as well as the seat of Morphou and partly that of Konstantias-Famagusta) has jurisdiction over the ‘occupied’ areas of Northern Cyprus. In these regions, the Greek Orthodox population was largely ethnically cleansed after the 1974 Turkish invasion of Cyprus. These sees remain important points of reference for the displaced Greek Cypriots, and while they lack material infrastructure and a territory that can be effectively serviced, their preservation is of paramount symbolic value for the OCC and the Greek Cypriot public. Consequently, the

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goal of the territorial restructuring was to offer the Kyrenia metropolitan an altar (thysiasterion) that was not in Northern Cyprus, thereby enabling the local metropolitan to perform services. This transfer was seen as temporary and reversible in case of renewed accessibility to the ‘occupied territories’ (i.e. the island’s Northern part). The Archbishopric further endowed these two new sees with financial resources: it offered them shares in the Hellenic Bank of Cyprus, as well as income from a hotel resort located in Ayia Napa. While on this occasion the Church effectively yielded to the practical necessity to preserve liturgical and ecclesiastical functions this action should not be misinterpreted as a shift in the Church’s long-term unyielding attitude against the post-1974 Turkish occupation of parts of its canonical territory. Another important constitutional change affected the electoral process for the Church’s metropolitans and the Archbishop. The principal goal was to shift the balance away from the laity and in favour of the higher clergy. The previous Constitution allowed for the election of lay representatives, who then joined the Synod in the election of hierarchs. In the event that a candidate was elected but did not receive the Synod’s approval, the Synod had to cancel the entire election. Henceforth, both the Archbishop and the metropolitans are elected via majority vote by the members of the OCC’s Holy Synod. The participation of the laity in the process is confined to the selection of three frontrunners and on the basis of the principle of ‘one person, one vote’. The Church is empowered to ask the State’s assistance for the purposes of holding the elections at the level of the laity. Consequently, while the laity’s participation in the elections is preserved (that is, the people vote directly for a candidate), the Synod actually makes the appointment. The new procedure is designed to avoid the head-on collision of popular and clerical preferences as well as the politically costly solution of cancelling elections (thereby completely nullifying the laity’s choice).19 The new Constitution further codified that all members of the higher clergy – including the Archbishop – are life-long appointees, thereby putting to rest notions of term limits with regard to office holders. The new Constitution also introduced a five-member Synodical Court (episkopiko synodiko dikastirio). Henceforth, a defendant is entitled to have an advocate (ombudsman). In the case of a demotion or dispensation from service, the accused is granted the right to appeal to the Ecumenical Patriarch, as laid out in canon law. The new Constitution further proscribed the standardisation of salary payments for parish priests. In Cyprus, priests’ salaries are only partially supported by the State. Thanks to the substantial financial support of the Hellenic Bank (which is partly owned by the Church) the salaries of all parish priests, regardless of location, were aligned and increased. This standardisation is supposed to function as an incentive for well-educated individuals to choose this profession. Lastly, the new Constitution altered the rules concerning the Church’s role in divorce proceedings. It is important to note that in Cyprus, the Church has kept a role in the process of legally granting divorces, which means that the Church exercises civil functions in this manner (as divorces were not granted

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by civil courts). However, over the last twenty years, the Republic of Cyprus’s divorce rate has been rising sharply – according to the demographic report of 2004, the total divorce rate of 1989 stood at 70 per cent and by 2004 had risen to 246 per cent.20 This increase is related to Cyprus’s ongoing modernisation, and in particular the shift from a traditional rural to a modern urban cultural milieu. In 1990, civil family courts were established in Cyprus. Since 1999 divorces of civil marriages are issued by the court, while Orthodox couples wishing to dissolve their marriage still need to undergo a ‘double’ process, both in civil courts and ecclesiastical courts. Under Chrysostomos I, the Church did not recognise the rulings of the civil family courts, which effectively meant that those divorced in civil court could not have a wedding ceremony (in the case of a new marriage) performed by the Church. Under Chrysostomos II the Church has offered recognition of the civil courts conditional on replacing the presiding judges with clerical appointees. Unsurprisingly, the proposal met the courts’ opposition. Consequently, and in spite of popular demand for simplification of the divorce process, the Church continues with its traditional process, wherein it acts as ‘protector of holy matrimony’. Although ecclesiastical divorce is no longer a legal act, it has been transformed into a ‘spiritual dissolution’ of the marital bond, which is issued only after counselling performed by a local cleric.

International participation: the EU and the ecumenical dialogue Greece’s 1981 EU ascension, the waning influence of the non-alignment movement and the pre-2004 joint foreign policy efforts of both Greece and the Republic of Cyprus all contributed to a broad social consensus that the Greek Cypriot community ought to employ the prospect of Cyprus’s EU ascension as a means of fostering a solution to the ‘Cyprus issue’. This strategy was effectively pursued during the ten-year (1993–2003) presidential reign of the Republic of Cyprus’s right-wing President Glavkos Clerides.21 In the course of the 1990s, the Church continued honouring the fighters who fell during the Greek Cypriot pro-Union struggle (1955–9). It also promoted Greek-Christian ideals as a trademark of a European Cyprus, all the while in tune with pro-EU governmental policies. Before the Republic of Cyprus’s 2004 EU ascension, the OCC made use of numerous occasions to formulate its statements on Europe, which were presented in the context of the debates on the European Constitution.22 Following a special invitation of the Ecumenical Patriarchate to join other Orthodox churches in the formulation of a unified Orthodox statement, the OCC, represented by Bishop Vasileios of Trimythounta, contributed to various European and inter-Orthodox conferences on the issue.23 Its position within the constitutional debate echoes the general concerns expressed by the Ecumenical Patriarch. These include the problem of ‘para-religious’ organisations (i.e. sects and cults), which are seen to operate outside the established legal context. Both the OCC and the Ecumenical Patriarchate call for

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strict criteria to guide the classification of the groups that could be labelled ‘religious’ in Europe, and would consequently be constitutionally protected according to the right to free religious expression. The OCC has made distinct contributions to the pan-Orthodox debates on the European Constitution. Thanks to its historical role as a link between the East and West, the Church sees itself predisposed to contribute to the European project. Institutionally, it has attempted to pursue this role through its membership of the World Council of Churches (WCC), the Middle Eastern Council of Churches (MECC) and the Conference of European Churches (CEC). The religious diversity of Cyprus is seen as a model for European pluralism. This diversity could only be maintained on the basis of the secular nature of the Republic’s Constitution. Bishop Vasileios of Trimythounta, therefore, emphasised that a clear separation of church and state is a sine qua non for the functioning of religious pluralism. The Constitution cannot ‘expressis verbis’ contain a Christian declaration of Christian identity.24 In cultural terms, however, the OCC supports the conviction that Europe is founded on Hellenism, Roman law and Christianity. Reflecting the broader conventional Orthodox theological views, religious privatisation and secularisation are attributed to individualism. The OCC therefore fully endorses its role in the EU, in order to further a respiritualisation of community values, while not making any concessions with regard to its Zivilisationskritik of Western societies.25 In his critique, the OCC representative addressed the Orthodox churches of Europe. During a conference organised by the Church of Greece (Athens, May 2003) regarding the contribution of European churches to the European project he emphasised the need for Orthodox churches to steer clear of extreme nationalism and fanaticism, in order to adapt to the pluralistic ideals of the European Union and meet the challenges of the twenty-first century, while focusing on its social and ecological mission.26 Since the 2004 EU accession of the Republic of Cyprus, and certainly since Chrysostomos II’s 2006 ascension, the OCC’s European path has advanced into a second stage. One of Chrysostomos II’s priorities was to upgrade and improve Cyprus’s presence and participation in the EU. The Church set up a special department for inter-church relations and European issues in Cyprus, managed by Bishop Grigorios of Mesaoria, and established its own institutional representation in Brussels. In 2007 Bishop Porfyrios of Neapolis was chosen to manage the European profile of the OCC, replacing Bishop Vasileios of Trimythounta.27 The OCC’s institutional representation in Brussels set new parameters for its lobbying on cultural heritage issues, as well as for the advancement of its overall demands on the ‘Cyprus issue’. The European office provides a permanent space for a range of exhibitions that deal with the various aspects of the ‘Cyprus issue’, thus bringing the region to the attention of the European Parliament. The Brussels representation was thus an important centre of the celebrations for the fiftieth anniversary of the Republic of Cyprus (1960–2010). In its attempt to use the leverage of its European role also within the debate on an optional EU accession of Turkey, the OCC has

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not shied away from forging occasional alliances with ultra-right-wing parties. In 2010, representatives of the Kykkos Foundation and the Byzantine Museum of the Makarios III Cultural Foundation presented a talk on the issue of cultural heritage at a meeting of the Turkey Assessment Group – an organisation of the Danish nationalist and MEP Morten Messerschmidt, who has earned a reputation for his right-wing populist stance in Denmark and the European context.28 In addition to the various ecumenical contexts (WCC, MECC and CEC) the OCC has been very active in fostering its own Orthodox networks. The OCC has been particularly active in the MECC – in fact it has hosted eight out of its ten general assemblies between 1974 and 2011. Thus, the OCC has provided an important official platform for the preservation and maintenance of connections with countries formerly associated with the non-alignment movement. The important role of the OCC for ecumenical and inter-faith relations in the Middle East was acknowledged in 2010 during an official visit of Syria’s President Bashir al’ Assad to the Archbishopric. Within the forum of the WCC, the OCC has criticised the role played by the Orthodox churches as insufficient and as lacking coordination, and was resolved to add a consistent and unified stance to the policies of the Council. It has called for an enhancement of the Orthodox contribution to the WCC.29 Thanks to Cyprus’s historical past experience of Catholic rule for several centuries (1191–1571), the OCC understands itself as naturally predisposed to act as mediator between Roman Catholic and Orthodox Christianity. These ecumenical intentions notwithstanding, the Archbishop recently expressed traditional Orthodox criticisms against Roman Catholicism. He expressed his disapproval of the Eastern Catholic churches, stating that these ‘Uniates’ – as they are conventionally referred to – ‘represent an ecclesiological deviation and … an unacceptable method of proselytism from the side of the Roman Catholic Church’. The Archbishop further expressed his concerns with the recent discontinuation of the use of the term ‘Patriarch of the West’ as a designation for the Pope.30 This, he stated, constituted a threat to the ‘people of the East’.31 Regardless, in the autumn of 2009 (16–23 October) the OCC hosted the meetings of the Joint International Commission for Theological Dialogue between the Catholic Church and the Orthodox Church in the city of Paphos. The meetings stirred the strong (and at times violent) reaction of more conservative members of the Orthodox public (including monks from the Stavrovouni Monastery), who threatened to disrupt the meetings, prompting police intervention. In response, the Archbishop issued stern warnings that clergy who might participate in such actions would be severely punished.32 The three-day visit of Benedict XVI in June 2010, which was the first visit of a pope to Cyprus in modern times, stands out as the most important ecumenical event of recent years. While small groups of Orthodox devotees protested, both state and ecclesiastical leadership met and honoured the Pope during his visit to the island. Some 4,000 people (mostly Catholics living on the island) heard the Pope’s address. The Pope also met with the President

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of the Republic of Cyprus, Dimitiris Christofias, during his two-day visit. The Pope officially recognised the important historical role of the Apostolic Church of Cyprus for European Christianity, and expressed his gratitude for the OCC’s donations following the 2009 earthquake in L’Aquila. To the archbishop, the visit offered a special occasion to lend weight to the ongoing issue of the Cyprus conflict and the Church’s concern about its occupied properties. In this context, the Pope offered his help to expedite the return of stolen objects from a church in Northern Cyprus.33 Despite the geopolitical importance attributed to the papal visit by Western European nations and the welcoming atmosphere of the OCC, the visit should not be seen as a sign of pro-Catholic attitudes within the hierarchy. On the contrary, the visit stirred some controversy within the Holy Synod, as certain bishops expressed their opposition and stated their refusal to welcome the Pope – an action which the Chrysostomos II averted by threatening disciplinary measures in case of a boycott.34

The Church’s cultural infrastructure and its role in cultural heritage Numerous cultural and educational institutions have been created and supported by the Church. These act both at national and international levels. The Cultural Centre of the Archbishop Makarios III Foundation was established in 1978 and includes a Byzantine Art Museum, which was inaugurated in 1982, as well as a research library. The Byzantine Museum constitutes a late response to the Church’s efforts to protect the cultural heritage of Cyprus from falling prey to illegal trade in archaeological objects which has been a problem since early British colonial rule. The Cultural Centre is dedicated to the organisation of cultural events that emphasise the Byzantine, Greek and Christian identities in Cyprus’s medieval and recent history. It further contributes extensively to the public relations efforts of the Republic of Cyprus on a variety of topics related to the ‘Cyprus issue’. Another major centre in this regard is the Kykkos Cultural Foundation.35 The Foundation has been sponsored by the Kykkos Monastery, arguably the wealthiest monastery in Cyprus. It hosts its own centre, a library and conference facilities where lectures and conferences are held, while it is also responsible for a publication series. Furthermore, the OCC has established the World Forum for Religions and Cultures, a non-governmental educational and cultural centre, which, in the course of the last decade, has organised several high-profile international conferences, addressing issues of ecumenical work, globalisation and euthanasia.36 The furthering of communication and dialogue between Greek and Turkish Cypriots, as well as the integration of ‘non-Orthodox immigrants’ in Cypriot society, are also stated among the professed goals of the institution. These objectives so far appear to be mainly theoretical. The Church’s activities on inter-communal issues are practically non-existent and bear no comparison to the commitment shown by (mostly, although not

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exclusively, leftist) segments of the Greek Cypriot community to advance inter-communal rapprochement. For example, to date, no official communication exists between Orthodox ecclesiastical bodies and the recently established Home for Cooperation (H4C). Located in Nicosia’s UN buffer zone this non-governmental educational centre provides a physical locale (situated in ‘neutral’ territory) where Greek and Turkish Cypriots can meet to discuss a variety of topics and where several cultural and educational activities are held. The OCC’s role in education is also an important facet of its cultural activities. The Church’s involvement in and more recent expressions of renewed interest vis-à-vis schooling has to be placed in a broader historical context. During the era of British colonialism, the OCC was greatly involved in the operation of schools and through its involvement it bolstered the nationalist orientation of the Greek Cypriot community’s educational system. In the post-1974 Republic, schools are overseen by the Department of Culture and Education. History education in particular has always exalted the past heroic deeds of Greek Cypriots in defence of their country and liberty. In the autumn of 2008, the Minister of Culture and Education, Andreas Dimitriou, issued a circular that put forward a programme of cross-cultural education in history lessons that was in line with the post-2008 government’s attempts to rekindle reconciliation efforts with the Turkish Cypriot community.37 The circular caused a heated controversy involving the Centre-Left government and nearly all the political parties as well as the OCC. According to the circular the new school curricula should focus on cultural traditions common to both communities thereby advancing an education in the spirit of peaceful coexistence of Greek and Turkish Cypriots. The minister suggested inter-communal projects between schools on both sides of the post-1974 UN buffer zone. The revision of the history books in use was an essential element of the reform agenda. Despite wide implementations of new history teaching practices throughout Europe, the curricula in the Republic’s schools were unchanged for decades, leading to one-sided representations of the history of the ‘Cyprus issue’. Typically, Greek Cypriots have focused on the 1974 Turkish invasion as the central issue, while Turkish Cypriots emphasised the post-1960s attacks on Turkish Cypriots, presenting the 1974 invasion as a peace-orientated intervention. The new guidelines for educational reform caused an outcry in conservative quarters of the Greek Cypriot community. Both the Archbishop as well as the conservative party (Dimokratikos Synagermos – DISY) accused the minister of meddling with history. A major bone of contention between the two sides concerned the attribution of responsibility to extremist groups for the intercommunal violence of the early 1960s and the ensuing crisis. Traditionally, the responsibility of extremist groups (such as the Turkish Cypriot TMT and the Greek Cypriot EOKA B (Ethniki Organosis Kyprion Agoniston)) has not been adequately stressed. In contrast, the blame for the plight of Cyprus has been assigned almost exclusively to ‘outsiders’ (the UK, the USA and Turkey).38 The suggested correction of history curricula has led the Archbishop, the

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Bishop of Paphos and members of the previous administration to accuse the post-2008 government of attempting to destroy Hellenism and to corrupt the youth. In a rather dramatic response, the Archbishop pledged his unfaltering opposition to the reform, to the point where he would encourage pupils to dispose of their history books, should history be ‘distorted’.39 Eventually, the Ministry of Education and Culture set up a committee that implemented some changes in the history textbooks but these were far less extensive than those desired by left-wing and progressive intellectuals. Already in August 2008, the Archbishop expressed the Church’s intention to institute its own schools, outside the state-controlled public education system.40 That intention has not yet materialised. Within the context of the ‘Cyprus issue’, the OCC’s most pressing concern has been the protection of the deserted churches in Northern Cyprus, as well as the recovery of holy icons. Following the 1974 Turkish invasion and the subsequent displacement of the Christian population, the Church lost control over approximately 520 churches, monasteries and chapels, while to this date, some 23,000 holy icons – dating from the twelfth century AD – as well as all church furnishings have been confined in the Northern part of the island.41 The Kykkos Monastery has attempted to recover many of the holy icons, which along with many other icons from throughout Cyprus are currently on display at its museum, located adjacent to the Kykkos Monastery, at the top of Mount Troodos.42 The OCC’s long-term objective is to recover holy icons and related artefacts and to prevent the illegal trade of these objects. Its efforts to return stolen art objects have recently been successful. The Menil Collection in Houston, TX, announced the return of a pair of thirteenth-century Byzantine frescoes to the Archbishopric in Cyprus. In 1984 Dominique de Menil purchased the frescoes from art smugglers. The Menil Foundation has always considered itself as a ‘custodian’, not ‘owner’ of the frescoes and spent considerable amounts on their restoration.43 In the island’s Northern part, many of the Church’s buildings have fallen into disuse. Some of them form part of the cultural heritage of Cyprus, which, as a result of the ongoing conflict between the two sides, remains in peril. According to some estimates,44 more than 130 church buildings of the 502 registered churches in Northern Cyprus have been subject to plundering and intentional destruction, while icons, frescoes and other valuable objects have been removed and circulated in international art markets. Meanwhile, many of the buildings have been redeployed to meet the needs (both profane and religious) of the local population. Seventy-seven church buildings are used as mosques, eighteen have been converted for military or medical purposes, while thirteen are used as barns or other agricultural buildings. Finally, a few church buildings have been converted into tourist infrastructure (hotels and restaurants). Most of the churches, however, have simply fallen into disrepair, having been unused since 1974. Not all of the churches and monasteries in Northern Cyprus belong to the Orthodox Church, but to Armenian, Maronite and Catholic minorities, as well as to the Exarchate of the Jerusalem Patriarchate. The Exarchate

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owns five registered monasteries in Cyprus, the most prominent being the St John Chrysostom Monastery, which was donated to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in the sixteenth century. The St John Chrysostom Monastery and a further two estates (metochia) of the Jerusalem Patriarchate are located within the Northern ‘occupied areas’. The Exarchate’s real estate is managed by Metropolitan Timotheus of Vostra, a permanently residing cleric of the All-Holy Sepulchre. His task is to maintain good relations with the local church through participation in liturgies and the organisation of cultural events, to coordinate donations to the Jerusalem Patriarchate and to perform the liturgy in those churches of the Exarchate which are located in the post1974 Republic of Cyprus. Within Greek Cypriot national consciousness, the churches in Northern Cyprus have become potent symbols of the territorial conflict, epitomising the lost villages and towns. There are nine ‘occupied’ districts in Northern Cyprus: Akanthous, Ammochostos, Karabas, Keryneia, Kythrea, Lapythos, Leykonoiko, Lysis and Morphou. Their symbolic value oscillates between nationalist, religious and cultural significance, and the OCC has added substantially to all of these dimensions, making concerted efforts to raise public awareness of these concerns. It has worked persistently to draw attention to the ‘Cyprus issue’ within national, ecumenical and European contexts, all the while employing different narratives depending on the nature of the forum. On the national level, the issue remains closely tied to Greek Cypriot national history. The Church cultivates an association of the heritage issue with Greek national history, through publicity work such as the photographic exhibition ‘Memories of Occupied Territories’, which was organised in Nicosia to celebrate the anniversary of the uprising of 9 July 1821 and to honour the ethnomartyrs.45 Within the inter-orthodox context, such as on the occasion of the visit of the Archbishop Anastasios of Albania in 2008, the OCC has strengthened the parallels between its current state of occupation and the fate of Orthodox churches under communist regimes. The work of Archbishop Anastasios in reconstructing the Orthodox Church of Albania since 1991, as well as his advancement of the inter-faith dialogue within a religiously plural setting, have been recognised as exemplary ideals to which the hierarchy of the OCC professes to aspire.46 Within European forums, the Church, together with the Department of Antiquities, highlights the cultural value of the occupied churches, applies pressure on cracking down on art smuggling and generally emphasises the responsibility of European leaders to allow the protection of what is seen as a common European cultural heritage. Following the opening of the checkpoints in 2003, access to these churches has been facilitated. While the Church approved of Greek Cypriots crossing the border to visit their ancestral villages and family houses, it did not encourage the continued crossing of the checkpoints. With the exception of a limited number of hierarchs, most of the Church’s higher clergy have refused to cross the checkpoints in order to avoid offering an implicit acknowledgement of TRNC’s state authority. The majority of the OCC’s hierarchs have therefore chosen

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to use international leverage on the issue, rather than trying to act locally by reasserting clerical presence in the island’s Northern part.47 It is worth noting, however, that not all church hierarchs employ the same methods in order to raise public awareness on matters of occupied church property. Most notable has been the rather controversial approach of Bishop Neophytos of Morphou, who chose to cross over into the Northern part of the island after the opening of the checkpoints in 2003, in order to celebrate the liturgy in the churches of his diocese. His action was the subject of harsh criticism and protracted bitter debate both among the public as well as among the church hierarchy: while reasserting an ecclesiastical presence in Northern Cyprus, the bishop had to engage in negotiations with the TRNC authorities and therefore he had to publicly appear to recognise their authority – an action that violated a sacred Greek Cypriot political taboo, as Greek Cypriots view the TRNC authorities as illegal and routinely refuse to acknowledge their authority (although this is obviously subject to practical necessities). Neophytos was elected and ordained Bishop of Morphou in 1998. He resides at the ‘temporary residence’ of the Morphou Bishopric in Evrychou, which is located just south of the Green Line (and therefore technically within the territory controlled by the Republic of Cyprus). However, the majority of his bishopric’s canonical territory (as well as the municipality of Morphou itself) falls within the Northern ‘occupied areas’. The bishop heads a small group of devout Orthodox Christians (to whom sometimes the vague connotation ‘neo-Orthodox’ is applied). For this small group nationalism is anathema, not least the nationalism responsible for the ethnic strife between Greek and Turkish Cypriots, which in their view is the root cause of the 1974 Turkish invasion and the subsequent de facto division. Hence, in 2004 when the Annan plan was put to the vote in both communities, the ‘neo-Orthodox’ endorsed and actively campaigned for it in contrast to the vast majority of Greek Cypriots, who flatly rejected it. Since then, this small group has been instrumental in efforts to promote understanding between the two communities by highlighting cultural commonalities and encouraging respect for religious and ethnic differences. Neophytos himself has been an outspoken supporter of the Anan plan and has criticised the other hierarchs’ stance against it as ‘anti-Christian’. His attitude has stirred controversy within the church hierarchy. He has been outspokenly critical about the Archbishop’s policies and has encouraged direct dialogue with the Turkish Cypriot side.48 His initiative of reasserting an ecclesiastical presence in Northern Cyprus has occasionally met with resistance from the TRNC authorities, but his efforts have also earned him the respect of Turkish Cypriot activists who support the growth of civil society in Northern Cyprus.

Conclusion This chapter has offered an extensive overview the OCC’s wide range of activities in recent years, focusing mostly on post-1989 events, and even

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more so on post-2006 developments. These years have marked the growth of numerous initiatives on behalf of the Church which have largely been the result of having a new Archbishop; in the pre-2006 era, many church projects could not move forward while the Synod was debating the issue of elections. Undoubtedly, the new Constitution has offered a final resolution to numerous issues, most importantly by rewriting the electoral rules in light of the 2006 elections. Moreover, the institution of new bishoprics and the functioning of a full Synod has offered the OCC the ability to operate without the need for outside intervention. The Church’s numerous cultural activities and its high international profile reveal the presence of an active higher clergy keen on pursuing numerous international engagements. This flurry of activity has to be seen in light of the Church’s longstanding objective of using international forums in order to publicise the Greek Cypriots’s post-1974 plight and to argue for a solution to the ‘Cyprus issue’ that would allow Greek Cypriots to return to their ancestral homes. This agenda is also quite explicit regarding domestic engagements: it offers a strategy through which the Church succeeds in maintaining public allegiance and preventing secularising tendencies. It is also a strategy that has led to repeated clashes with the post-2008 centre-left coalition government over several issues, ranging from the negotiation strategy pursued in inter-communal talks to reform initiatives in education. It is quite clear that the majority of the Church’s hierarchs and its members are conservative in their political orientation, although this is by no means new when it comes to members of the higher clergy. However, it is worth pointing out that there are two additional constituencies that hold minority positions: on the one hand, there are progressive clergy who take a far more conciliatory attitude with regard to the ‘Cyprus issue’, while, on the other hand, there are also ultra-conservative Orthodox members of the laity and the clergy (such as monks) who protest against the hierarchy’s endorsement and participation in ecumenical dialogue. Therefore, the current conservative leadership of the Church should be viewed as a leadership engaging simultaneously in silencing its most ultra-conservative or fringe members, while also using the island’s major issue of national concern (that is, the ‘Cyprus issue’) as a theme that allows the Church to rally the public to its side.49

Appendix50 1

Religious leaders

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Chrysostomos I (Kykkotes) (1927–2006), in office 1977–2006 Chrysostomos II (Herodotos Demetriou) (1941–), in office 2006–.

2

Biography

Title: Archbishop of Nova Justiniana and All Cyprus.

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Chrysostomos II was born in 1941 in the district of Paphos. He graduated from the Faculty of Theology at the University of Athens in 1972. Later that same year he was unanimously elected to the post of Hegumen of St Neophytos Monastery. In 1978 he ascended to the Metropolitan See of Paphos. He held that post until his election in 2006 to the Archiepiscopal Throne.51 3

Theological publications

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Apostolos Varnavas [Apostle Varnava], official serial of the OCC Epetiris tou Kentrou Epistimonikon Erevnon [Review of the Centre for Scientific Research] Epetiris tou Kentrou Meleton Ieras Monis Kykkou [Review of the Research Centre of Kykkos Monastery]

•

4

Congregations

Structure of the Church: The Church’s post-2006 revamped organisational structure consists of 10 metropolitanates and 7 bishoprics (episkopoi),52 one of which is for the diaspora. In 2012 the Church had 554 parishes.53 Number of clergy and church buildings: In 2012 the Church had 505 churches54 and 707 parish priests/deacons.55 The 2000 data also included 58 monasteries and convents,56 with 143 monks and 187 nuns.57 5

Population

Orthodox 553,635 (93.3 per cent), Armenian 1,741 (0.29 per cent), Maronite 3,930 (0.7 per cent), Roman Catholics 10,240 (1.73 per cent), Muslims 4,182 (0.7 per cent), Anglicans 6,839 (1.15 per cent), atheists 1,500 (0.25 per cent), other 6,505 (1.15 per cent), no response 993 (0.1 per cent). Total 589,365 people.58

Notes 1 Victor Roudometof and Michalis N. Michael, ‘Church, State and Politics in 19th Century Cyprus’, Thetis: Mannheimer Beiträge zur Klassischen Archäologie und Geschichte Griechenlands und Zyperns, 2010, 16/17, 97–104, and Victor Roudometof, ‘The Transformation of Greek Orthodox Religious Identity in 19th Century Cyprus’, Chronos: revue d’histoire de l’Universite de Balamand, 2010, 22, 7–23. 2 For an overview, Victor Roudometof, ‘The Orthodox Church of Cyprus’, in Lucian N. Leustean (ed.), Eastern Orthodox Christianity and the Cold War, 1945–91, Abingdon: Routledge, 2010, pp. 271–81. 3 For a discussion, see Victor Roudometof and Miranda Christou, ‘“1974” and Greek Cypriot Identity: The Division of Cyprus as Cultural Trauma’, in Ronald Eyerman, Jeffrey Alexander and Elisabeth Breese (eds), Narrating Trauma: On the Impact of Collective Suffering, Boulder, CO: Paradigm, 2011, pp. 163–87.

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4 This argument has been developed via a comparison on the status of the official churches in Greece and Ireland. See Daphne Halikiopoulou, Patterns of Secularization: Church, State and Nation in Greece and the Republic of Ireland, Aldershot: Ashgate, 2011. 5 Apostolos Varnavas, ‘Gramma tis AM tou Archiepiskopou pros ton gen. Grammatea tou OHE’ [Letter of His Holiness the Archbishop to the General Secretary of the UN], 2010 (12), p. 746. Greek in the original, translation by the authors. 6 See the Archbishop’s remarks in his interview to Michalis Hatzistylianou, ‘Arxiepiskopos Xrysostomos nyn kai aei …’ [Archbishop Chrysostomos for good and all], Simerini, 14 June 2008. Also, see his remarks in his interview with Nikita Kyriakou, ‘Fthasame s’epikindyno shmeio sto Kypriako’ [We have arrived at a dangerous stage of the Cyprus Conflict], Simerini, 26 October 2008. There are numerous additional remarks made in the press over the years. 7 See Chrysostomos’s own explicit statement on the Church not pursuing a nation-leading role, published in the Simerini daily and Sigma News Broadcast Service. ‘Den diekdikoyme ethnarxika dikaiomata’ [I am not entitled to ethnarchic priviledges]: http://www.sigmalive.com/news/local/106713 (accessed 30 December 2008). The Archbishop was replying to leftist responses that his criticism of the post-2008 administration was motivated by selfish designs to enter politics. 8 European Values Study (EVS) Foundation, European Values Study ZA4787, 2008: Cyprus File. Available online at: http://info1.gesis.org/ (accessed 15 November 2011). 9 For an overview, see Victor Roudometof, ‘Orthodoxy and Modernity in Cyprus: The 2006 Archiepiscopal Elections in Historical Perspective’, Journal of Contemporary Religion, 2009, 24 (2), 189–204. 10 EVS Foundation, European Values Study. 11 World Values Survey (WVS), 2005, Official Data File v.20090901, 2009. World Values Survey Association (www.worldvaluessurvey.org) (accessed 15 November 2011). 12 International Social Survey Program (ISSP), International Social Survey Program: Religion II, 1998, Computer File, Koehl, Germany. 13 Ibid. 14 Vasiliki Georgiadou and Ilias Nikolakopoulos, ‘Laos ths Ekklhsias’ [The People of the Church]’, in Chr. Verardakis (ed.), H Koinh Gnomh sthn Ellada [Public Opinion in Greece], Athens: VPRC-Livanis, 2001, pp. 141–85. 15 http://www.kenthea.org.cy/ (accessed 15 November 2011). 16 See Roudometof, ‘Orthodoxy and Modernity’. 17 Apostolos Varnavas, 2011 (11). 18 Interview with Chrysostomos II on ΡΙΚ1, 14 August 2010. 19 The new rules were applied in the 2011 election of a new metropolitan for the vacated see of Kyrenia. The Synod actually selected the first choice of lay voters, who was not the preferred candidate of the Archbishop. See George Psyllidis, ‘Kyrenia election doesn’t go the Archbishop’s way’, Cyprus Mail, 25 November 2011, online at: http://www.cyprus-mail.com/church/kyrenia-election-doesn-t-goarchbishop-s-way/20111125 (accessed 15 November 2011). However, the overall turnout of lay voters at this election seems to have been rather low – out of 27,000 eligible voters only 6,000 voted for the three frontrunners. See Alexis Pantelides, ‘Selection process begins for new Bishop of Kyrenia’, Cyprus Mail, 20 November 2011, online at: http://www.cyprus-mail.com/church/selection-process-beginsnew-bishop-kyrenia/20111120 (accessed 15 November 2011). 20 Demographic Report 2004, Nicosia: Printing Office of the Republic of Cyprus.

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21 Nikos Trimikliniotis, ‘The Location of Cyprus in the Southern European Context’, Cyprus Review, 2001, 13 (2), p. 50. 22 The debate over the drafting of a unified constitutional document, which officially failed in the French and Dutch referenda of 2005, triggered a wide-reaching discourse on European identity. Implicit within the debate was also the question on the finality of European expansion, as well as the role of European religious bodies and their contribution to the concept of a European ‘community of values’. See Christoph. Mandry, ‘Die Frage nach der Identität Europas und die Religion(en)’, in J. Malik and J. Manemann (eds), Religionsproduktivität in Europa, Münster: Aschendorff, 2009, p. 19. 23 The Metropolitan of Constantia and Famagusta Vasileios, formerly Bishop of Trimythounta has represented the OCC in both the WCC and CEC, and acted as spokesman for the Church in European forums prior to 2006. He is also a member of the Central and Executive Council of the World Churches Council and president of the ‘Faith and Order’ committee. In 1991 he assumed the management of the Office of Interchurch Relations of the Church of Cyprus. In 2007 he was elected Metropolitan of Constantia and Ammochostos. 24 Bishop Trimythounta Vasileios at the ‘Inter-Orthodox Conference on the Drafting of a European Constitution’. Apostolos Varnavas, ‘Diorthodokson synedrion epi tou sxediou tis syntagmatikhs synthhkhs tis evropaikhs enoseos’ [Inter-Orthodox conference on the drafting of a European Constitution], 2003 (9), 329–35 and (11), 416–37. 25 Ibid. 26 Apostolos Varnavas, ‘Arxes kai aksies os vaseis gia thn oikodomhsh tis evrophs’ [Norms and values as basis for the building of Europe], 2003 (9), 336–41. 27 Apostolos Varnavas, ‘Ekklhsia tis Kyprou – Evropaikh Enosh’ [Church of Cyprus – European Union], 2010 (3–4), 191–4. Apostolos Varnavas, ‘Ta egkainia ton grafeion tis ekklhsias Kyprou stis Vrykselles’ [The opening ceremony of the Brussels office of the Church of Cyprus], 2009 (5–6), 313–23. 28 The presentation ‘The destruction of Christian cultural heritage and Byzantine art in the occupied areas of Cyprus’ took place at the conference of the Turkey Assessment Group with the title ‘A Bridge Too Far?’ in Strasburg, July 2010. 29 The OCC’s position in the context of the WCC is generally formulated through the Metropolitan of Constantia-Famagusta Vasileios. Apostolos Varnavas, ‘H fysiognomia tou Xristianismoy shmera kai to pankosmio symvoulio ekklhsion’ [The face of Christianity today and the World Council of Churches], 2010 (3–4), 144–52. 30 The Annuario Pontificio of 2006 has dropped the designation ‘Patriarch of the West’, identifying the Pope henceforth as ‘bishop of Rome, vicar of Jesus Christ, successor of the prince of the apostles, supreme pontiff of the universal church, primate of Italy, archbishop and metropolitan of the province of Rome, sovereign of Vatican City State and servant of the servants of God’. In previous editions, the title ‘patriarch of the West’ had been listed after ‘supreme pontiff of the universal church’. 31 On the occasion of an inter-church conference on ‘The role of the Archbishop of Rome in the community of churches during the first millennium AD’ hosted in Cyprus in 2009. Apostolos Varnavas, ‘IA’ Synanthsh tis olomeleias tis mikths epitrophs gia to dialogo metaksy orthodoksou kai romaiokatholikhs ekklhsias’ [11th General Meeting of the Mixed Committee for the Dialogue between the Orthodox and Roman Catholic Church], 2009 (9–10), 566–7. 32 See Sophia Theodosiou, ‘An-orthodokso ksylofortwma’ [An un-orthodox beating], Politis, 25 October 2009, and Kostas Nanos, ‘Nea diamartyria gia ton dialogo me tous Katholikous’ [New protest against the dialogue with Catholics], Politis, 21 September 2009.

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33 This concerns the case of the frescoes from St Antifonitis church, removed and stolen by the a notorious Turkish art dealer, Aydin Dikmen, and later confiscated by the police in Munich. Apostolos Varnavas, ‘Episkepsh sthn Kypro tou Papa Romis Benediktou XVI’ [Cyprus visit of Pope of Rome Benedict XVI], 2010 (5–6), 298–315. 34 http://www.catholicculture.org/news/headlines/index.cfm?storyid=6512 (accessed 21 November 2011) [Cyprus’s Orthodox leader will discipline bishops who refuse to welcome the pope]. 35 See the Foundation’s website at: http://www.imkykkou.com.cy/politistiko_idryma_ arxangelou.shtml for additional information (in Greek). See also the Kykkos Monastery website at: http://www.imkykkou.com.cy/ (accessed 15 November 2011). 36 See: http://www.religionscultures.org/ (accessed 15 November 2011). 37 From: http://www.schools.ac.cy/dde/circular/data/Doc7387.pdf (accessed 17 April 2009). 38 Irene Dietzel, ‘School history curriculum’, 2009. Entry on EUREL in Cyprus, Current Debates, archives (Winter 2008/9), available at: http://www.eurel.info/EN/ index.php?rubrique=562&pais=55 (accessed 26 December 2011). 39 The Archbishop reformulated his position on this issue during a conference organised in the spring of 2009, on the ‘present and future of Greek Orthodox Education in Cyprus’. He insisted on the necessity for traditionalism and national awareness that abstains from chauvinist tendencies and parochial interests. In the wake of the school-book debacle, the OCC’s hierarchy seems to nurture an Orthodox spiritual reading of history, while avoiding associations with overt nationalism. Apostolos Varnavas, ‘To paron kai to mellon tis orthodokshs ellhnikhs paideias sthn Kypro’ [The present and future state of the Orthodox Greek education in Cyprus], 2009 (3–4), 214–17. 40 In an interview, the Archbishop mentioned approvingly the initiative of the Bishop of Limassol. See Hatzistylianou, ‘Arxiepiskopos Xrysostomos nyn kai aei’. The Archbishop’s goal was to reach an agreement with the government on the foundation of a theological faculty. However, since the post-2008 economic crisis seriously impacted the Church’s finances such plans have been postponed. 41 For details, see Demosthenis Demosthenous, The Occupied Churches of Cyprus, Nicosia, 2000, available at the Church of Cyprus’s website at: www.churchofcyprus.org (accessed 15 November 2011). 42 See the online description at: http://www.kykkos-museum.cy.net/index2.html, which also offers a detailed description of the exhibition (accessed 15 November 2011). 43 Douglas Britt, ‘Houston’s Menil is returning holy artworks to Cyprus’, Houston Chronicle, September 2011: http://www.chron.com/life/article/Byzantine-FrescoChapel-artworks-to-return-to-2186452.php (accessed 24 September 2011). 44 Accurate information on the precise condition of Orthodox Christian monuments in Northern Cyprus is hard to procure. The numbers stated here are based on information from the USA’s Cyprus Embassy website (www.cyprusembassy.net, accessed on 15 November 2011) and should be treated with reserve. 45 Apostolos Varnavas, ‘Egkainia ekthesis eikonon kai ekkleshastikon keimelion apo katexomenous naous mas’ [Vernissage of exhibition of icons and church valuables from our occupied churches], 2009 (7–8), 464–7. 46 Apostolos Varnavas, ‘Eirhnikh episkepsh tis A.M. tou Arxiepiskopou Alvanias Anastasiou sthn Ekklesia tis Kyprou’ [Peaceful visit of his Excellency Archbishop of Albania Anastasios to the Church of Cyprus], 2009 (1–2), 54–86 and (3–4), 155–87. 47 Worth mentioning in this context is the 2009 visit to Cyprus of Archbishop Leo (Makkonen) of Karelia and All Finland. Apostolos Varnavas, 2009 (11–12). The

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50 51 52 53 54

55

56 57

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Finnish hierarch associated the current situation of the OCC with the fate of the Orthodox churches in Finland and Poland during the anti-Russian riots at the beginning of the century (1920–30). His suggestion that both the Finnish and Cypriot Orthodox churches should begin to rebuild the destroyed churches in their countries as ‘Cultural heritage of the European Union’ has, however, remained without comment, given the OCC’s general refusal to take local action in Northern Cyprus. M. Drousiotis, ‘Katalava kai ton pono tou Tourkokypriou’ [I also understood the pain of the Turkish Cypriot]. Interview with Bishop Neophytos, Eleftherotypia, 8 September 2004. Irene Dietzel, ‘Die Kirchen Nordzyperns: Steine des Anstoßes oder Orte von Gemeinschaft’, in Jamal Malik (ed.), Mobilisierung von Religion in Europa, Frankfurt am Main: Peter Lang, 2010, pp. 97–109. In this respect this strategy echoes that pursued in previous eras by the Orthodox Church of Greece. See Anastasios Anastassiadis, ‘An Intriguing True-False Paradox: The Entanglement of Modernization and Intolerance in the Orthodox Church of Greece’, in Victor Roudometof and Vasilios N. Makrides (eds), Orthodox Christianity in 21st Century Greece: The Role of Religion in Culture, Ethnicity and Politics, Aldershot: Ashgate, 2010, pp. 39–60. Victor Roudometof would like to thank Dr Evgenia Mesaritou for her invaluable assistance in locating some of the data reported in this Appendix. All information from http://www.churchofcyprus.org.cy/article.php?articleID=50 (accessed 27 November 2011). http://www.churchofcyprus.org.cy/index.php?categoryID=5 (accessed 13 January 2012), corroborated by the OCC’s official information on 25 January 2012. Information provided to the authors by the Church of Cyprus, 25 January 2012. Holy Synod of the Church of Cyprus, Eortologion Ekklisias Kiprou: Typikai Diataxeis kai Dioikitiki Singrotisi [Order of Feasts of the Church of Cyprus: Ritual Provisions and Administrative Organisation],(Nicosia: Publications of the Synod of the Church of Cyprus, 2012. These are all located within the post-1974 territory of the Republic of Cyprus. Based on Article 041 22.2 (State support for parish priests) of the State Budget of the Republic of Cyprus (Nicosia: Republic of Cyprus, 2012). In contrast, on 25 January 2012, the OCC’s official information offered a total of 553 native and 83 non-Cypriot parish priests and deacons. All data for monasteries and convents are based on the 2012 Eortologion. Based on the same source a total of 18 monasteries and 16 convents are recorded but this is a partial count because in several cases gender is not specified. The number of monks and nuns is based on the Republic of Cyprus’s 2000 Census of Establishments, vol. 3, Nicosia: Statistical Service of the Republic of Cyprus, 2002. These figures are offered with caution. The Eortologion also lists figures for monks and nuns per monastery or convent but these are not uniformly coded, thereby creating difficulties in counting their overall number. Republic of Cyprus, 2001 Population Census, vol. 1, General Demographic Characteristics, Nicosia: Printing Office of the Republic of Cyprus, 2003. The results of the 2011 census will become available at a later date.

9

The Orthodox Church of Greece Vasilios N. Makrides

The Orthodox Church of Greece (OCG) belongs to the group of Orthodox churches that was never behind the ‘Iron Curtain’ and thus was never subjected to extreme or negative measures by a communist regime. This historical fact hardly means, however, that its relations with the Greek state were always friendly and harmonious, for a number of major and minor conflicts throughout the history of the modern Greek state prove exactly the opposite. Its public presence and societal role often became issues of heightened discussion and controversy.1 The Church fell victim to the turbulence of Greek political history and often suffered collateral damage. The dramatic collapse of the communist regimes between 1989 and 1991 led, however, not only to a new political situation in Eastern and Southeastern Europe, but also a concomitant resurgence of the previously suppressed religions including many Orthodox churches in the region. Such a development could not leave the OCG unaffected. The main aim of this chapter is thus to offer an overview of the religious situation in Greece, especially from 1989 onwards, focusing on the OCG. For the sake of clarity, this chapter will closely focus on the periods in office of three archbishops, Serapheim, Christodoulos and Hieronymos II. Each one of them has left his imprint on the OCG, both as an institution and as a body of believers, always in connection with domestic and international socio-political developments. The examination of their periods in office can yield significant results concerning the evolution of the OCG at the end of the twentieth and the beginning of the twenty-first century.

The period of Archbishop Serapheim: from accommodation to revitalisation, politicisation and nationalisation The radical changes in the former Eastern bloc coincided with the last period of Archbishop Serapheim (Tikas) (1974–98), who in fact was the archbishop who remained the longest in office in the history of the OCG.2 Serapheim was the first to experience the changing political attitude of the country towards the Church after the end of the colonels’ dictatorship (1967–74).3 This included a slow, yet progressive liberalisation of Greek society, in which the predominant Orthodox Church could not automatically enjoy various

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privileges thanks to the state, as in the past. Such changes first became evident in the new Constitution of 1975 under the right-wing, conservative New Democracy government (1974–81).4 Furthermore, in 1980 Greece officially established diplomatic relations with the Vatican State, a development that initially pleased neither the Church nor various Orthodox circles in the country. It is important that this decision was taken by the state alone without consulting the Church. Such state initiatives were, however, intensified after 1981, when the socialists of PASOK (Panhellenic Socialistic Movement) came to power for the first time in Greek history. The first socialist period under Andreas Papandreou (1981–9) was thus marked by a number of measures towards liberalising and secularising Greek society and limiting the Church’s influence through related legislation (e.g., the introduction of civil marriage in 1982). These measures were not part of an atheistic plan to combat all religions on Greek territory; rather, it was an attempt to establish a stronger separation between church and state and the pluralisation of society. The fact that Greece officially joined the European Economic Community (EEC) in 1981 was also connected with such changes, especially in terms of the gradual adjustment of the country’s legislation to broader European values, norms and practices.5 Confronted with these new challenges, Serapheim opted in the beginning for a careful and accommodating policy and was ready to make compromises. He thus did not basically call the state’s authority into question, although the Church as a whole was certainly not satisfied with the changes brought about. Serapheim was not an intellectual type, but rather simple, straightforward and unconventional, not only in his overall behaviour, but also in his dealings with state authorities. He was also practically orientated and had leadership abilities. Besides, he had to face several other challenges beyond the political ones. First, it was necessary to purge the church hierarchy in the wake of its control by the dictatorship. Thus, in 1974, he initiated the replacement of some hierarchs from the previous era with new ones, a procedure that created animosity within the wider church body. Second, the overall climate in the Greek population was rather critical towards the Church because of its previous collaboration with the dictators. Serapheim’s task in the late 1970s was to polish and ameliorate the Church’s image by rendering it more credible and trustworthy. Finally, he had to control and to balance the various trends and trajectories within Greek Orthodoxy, from the militant bishops (e.g., Augustinos Kantiotis of Florina, Eordaia and Prespes, 1967–2000) criticising Greece’s adhesion to the European Economic Community, to the independent Orthodox organisations (e.g., the ‘Brotherhoods of Theologians’ and their various cooperative associations)6 putting pressure on the church hierarchy. This proved to be a rather hard task for Serapheim and a source of major conflicts, not only within the Church, but at times involving the state. How did Serapheim manage to retain the leadership of the Church for so long, having sworn in six presidents of the Greek Republic and numerous governments? Such a long period in power was unprecedented in modern

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Greek history. Serapheim’s election to the archbishopric was, furthermore, controversial, given that he had been elected on 13 January 1974, namely in the last period of the dictatorship headed by Colonel Dimitrios Ioannidis. This renders his long stay in power even more remarkable, considering that the general attitude towards anyone associated with the dictatorship was extremely negative in post-1974 Greece. The reasons for this should be mainly sought during the 1970s as well as in the 1980s, and have certainly much to do with his leadership skills, accommodating policies and careful stance. In a crucial transition period for modern Greece and its Church, Serapheim appeared to be a rather agile, smooth and effective player. His overall policy enabled the Church to stabilise its position and remain a vital part of the Greek socio-political system. In addition, by not challenging the authority of the state, he was never considered a threat by politicians, who seemed to be rather satisfied with him in the long run. He respected the separate realms of church and state and avoided any active interference in the jurisdiction of the state, while always seeking pragmatic solutions to various problems. It should not be forgotten that in 1977 the OCG received a new constitutional charter guaranteeing its autonomy, which was also recognised as a law of the state, an important development in this transition period. Serapheim’s accommodating and even compromising attitude hardly meant the complete capitulation of the Church to the wills of politics. For example, there was considerable reaction by the Church to the attempted introduction of an obligatory civil marriage, which caused the socialists to change their plans and make, in the end, both religious and civil marriage optional. There was also a massive reaction in 1987 when the socialists announced the nationalisation of ecclesiastic and monastic property.7 Yet, most of these reactions were orchestrated by several leading hierarchs, including the future Archbishop Christodoulos, where Serapheim seemed to act rather in the background of the whole agitation. The socialist period in the 1980s, on the other hand, should not be viewed as being categorically anti-religious. No doubt, the early socialists were not pro-religion, yet Orthodoxy did play a role in Greek society in another form. There was a considerable revival of monastic spirituality and an interest in the Holy Mountain Athos, trends that were connected with a fresh quest for locating the genuine traits of Hellenicity and Orthodoxy beyond Western novelties. The political anti-Westernism and anti-Europeanism of the socialists thus coincided in many respects with the historical anti-Westernism of Orthodoxy and led to new formations, such as an Orthodox–Communist dialogue and the broad intellectual movement of the ‘Neo-orthodox’.8 Apart from this, Serapheim was successful in building a significant profile as a church leader, through his visits to other Orthodox churches and his contacts with other Christians or by launching various wider initiatives (e.g., a consultation of the Christian churches on combating world famine), a fact that further legitimised his position at the top of the OCG. Turning now to his final period in office following the events of 1989–91, it is clear that his already established position was further corroborated and

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went basically unchallenged. This development was intrinsically linked with the radical changes in many former Eastern bloc countries, where the historical Orthodox churches were rehabilitated, with the consecutive wars in Yugoslavia leading to its disintegration, and with the religious dynamics in prospect concerning the potential role of Orthodoxy in the new world order. In other words, Orthodoxy became a key factor in the 1990s, even beyond the strict religious domain; for example, as an instrument of foreign policy and as closely related to the quest for ‘new allies’ in Eastern and Southeastern Europe. This contributed to an enhanced politicisation of Orthodoxy at the time – consider the creation of a ‘European Inter-parliamentary Assembly of Orthodoxy’ in Athens in 1994, a political organisation made up of members of various parliaments representing Orthodox populations. It is also worth mentioning that when the socialists under Andreas Papandreou returned to power (1993–6), they radically changed their attitude towards the OCG and showed an unusual interest in Orthodoxy, hoping for domestic and international gains out of the new situation. It is thus safe to argue that the new international coordinates led to a strong politicisation of the OCG in the 1990s, which went hand in hand with its increased nationalisation, trends that were generally backed by Serapheim and the church hierarchy. This also contributed to a stronger public role and visibility of the Church.9 The latter was portrayed to be not only instrumental for the survival of the Greek nation across history, but also as forming the crucial link to other co-religious peoples and nations in Eastern and Southeastern Europe. Given that the 1980s were rather problematic for the OCG in many respects, the 1990s thus appeared to offer it a unique opportunity to reconfirm and strengthen its position within the Greek socio-political system. This explains why the Church wholeheartedly endorsed the cause of the Greek minority in Southern Albania (‘Northern Epirus’), cared for the Greek Orthodox diasporas in other parts of the world, organised rallies for the support of Greek claims with regard to the controversial ‘Macedonian question’, openly assisted the Orthodox Serbs and their side during the wars in Yugoslavia10 and made its anti-Western views prominent in many instances. After all, the Western world (European Union/EU, NATO, etc.) was collectively held responsible for the problems in Eastern and Southeastern Europe. All this legitimised both directly and indirectly the position and the role of Orthodoxy within the country, leading to its revitalisation and popularisation among the Greek public. Orthodoxy thus became very popular in the 1990s, even to those who were previously barely attached to the OCG. This was more of a widespread and fashionable phenomenon including a rather abstract attachment to Orthodoxy as part of Greek cultural identity, rather than a strict obedience to the dictates of the Church. To declare oneself publicly an Orthodox Christian was subsequently rendered a matter of self-identification and concomitant pride. Statistics also showed increased rates of religiosity (e.g., churchgoing) among the Greek population during this period,11 while various new periodicals and newspapers dealing with Orthodoxy and religion

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in general appeared, aimed at a wider audience. In addition, a number of scenarios about the potential role of Orthodoxy in the future world order circulated; for example, that the twenty-first century would be the ‘century of Orthodoxy’. This triumphalistic, often-proclaimed expression was mainly based on a vague, rather arbitrary and subjective prediction formulated by the British historian Sir Steven Runciman (1903–2000) in various interviews after 1989, in which he claimed that Orthodoxy would have better chances of survival and success in the future than Roman Catholicism or Protestantism.12 One can, of course, doubt whether this will be the case. Another scenario involved the construction of a ‘Commonwealth of all Orthodox Peoples’ (in the Balkans or in Eastern Europe) in contradistinction to the Western alliances. Needless to say, all this led to a triumphalism regarding the Orthodox tradition in Greece, to phenomena of self-complacency and superiority and finally to an optimistic view of the future. Evidently, in such a highly favourable environment the Church needed to do little, if anything, to gain general acceptance and recognition. Despite all this, there were also several critical voices against the enhanced significance of the Orthodox factor, especially those condemning the connection of Orthodoxy with Greek nationalism. It is thus no surprise that Serapheim, being aware of the new positive climate towards Orthodoxy, channelled the direction of the OCG accordingly. He realised that the Church could profit from this new situation and that its overall status was no longer contested. Yet he had to deal with other emerging problems. One of them concerned the claims of the Ecumenical Patriarchate of Constantinople over the OCG after Patriarch Bartholomew ascended to the throne in 1992. The latter intended to strengthen the authority of the Patriarchate. This is why he rekindled the issue of the ecclesiastical status of several dioceses in Greece, which depend spiritually on the jurisdiction of the Patriarchate. The mixed status of these dioceses has been a tenacious source of problems for the two churches, yet under Serapheim no major conflict was ignited due to his accommodating attitude. Serapheim also had to deal with a number of other internal church problems, such as in 1993 with the reinstatement of some metropolitans by the Council of State, the Supreme Administrative Court of Greece, who were dethroned in 1974 because of their links to the colonels’ dictatorship. This decision was rejected by the OCG as a state intervention into the internal church affairs. This led to the eruption of a major conflict and violent confrontations in some dioceses (especially in that of Larissa and Tyrnavos). The problem was finally resolved in 1996 in favour of the Church’s position, given that some of the metropolitans had already accepted compromising solutions and were reinstated in new, temporarily founded dioceses. Yet, related agitation did continue in the years to come. This was not only because of this particular conflict, but also the general revival of Orthodoxy in the 1990s, connected with the rise of Orthodox rigorism (or fundamentalism),13 which aspired to upset the church leadership and purify the Church organism from various evils, attributed to Serapheim’s long leadership. These

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Orthodox circles became particularly sensitive to the expanding new world order and tried to build up a front against all ‘enemies of Orthodoxy and Greece’. In this context, they reacted against introducing new identity cards with no mention of religious affiliation for Greek citizens, a plan interpreted as a step to erase the dominant Orthodox character of the country with the aim of rendering it religiously neutral and multicultural. This issue was brought up in 1993 by a right-wing conservative government (1990–3), but no parliamentary consensus was reached, and the new ID cards could not be introduced. Reactions were also directed against the promotion of pluralistic and multicultural ideals in the wake of the growing number of foreign immigrants on Greek territory. The riots in Thessaloniki in 1994–5, instigated by the local diocese, concerning the exclusive religious and not secular use of the Rotonda (or Rotunda), a fourth-century Roman cylindrical building, are a case in point, although it was known that Rotonda had not been consistently used as a Church across history. All of this took thus place in reaction to the attempted rediscovery of the multicultural and pluralistic character of this historical city, in which Jews and Muslims had played a key role.14 There were also a lot of anti-European sentiments, as many Orthodox viewed the implementation of the decisions of the European Union (e.g., the Schengen Convention of 1997) as potentially dangerous for Orthodoxy and Greek identity. Seen in this light, it is obvious that Serapheim was questioned during this period much more from within the Church itself rather than by the state or other secular authorities. This social tension was, however, about to increase when a new generation of socialists under Costas Simitis came to power in 1996, this time not as populists, but as modernisers, who intended to carry out major reforms in Greek society by strengthening its pro-European and pro-Western links. Limiting the Church’s politicisation and wider influence, which had become much stronger in the 1990s, clearly belonged to these plans. In this way, these socialists resorted to the older plan of secularising Greek politics and society. Given also that the Greek state was condemned by various international organisations for violating the rights of religious minorities (e.g., Jehovah’s Witnesses), this plan appeared as absolutely imperative. Because of his advanced age and deteriorating health Serapheim was no longer an active player in the public sphere, hence he offered little resistance to the plans of the new socialists. All in all, their parallel coexistence did not last for long, for Serapheim passed away in April 1998. To be quite frank, the OCG did not appear to be threatened in the beginning by these plans. It was still enjoying increased public appeal and its popular, fashionable image, as well as its overall status, remained basically intact. Besides, Serapheim’s long period in office, his entire ecclesiastical career and his other activities (e.g., his participation in the Greek Resistance against the Axis forces during the Second World War) earned him many honours in the 1990s from ecclesiastic, political, academic and other social sectors. He was generally evaluated as the person who successfully led the OCG in the post-dictatorship era and

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articulated its new image amidst numerous new problems and challenges. Certainly, he was not someone who could deal intellectually with and reflect upon the issue of modernity and its impact on the Church. But he was successful in practical terms by placing the OCG within the modern context and leading it up to the close of the twentieth century. The time appeared to be ripe then for a change in church leadership. The eligible person was found in Christodoulos (Paraskevaidis), the Metropolitan of Demetrias and Almyros, who was elected Archbishop in April 1998.

Archbishop Christodoulos and his strategy of expressive interventionism The new Archbishop was a person hardly unknown to the wider Greek public. He had already made a name in his diocese, where he had served for a long time (1974–98) and where he had left a very positive legacy, beyond the religious domain. He was one of the best-known, best-educated and influential bishops because of his public interventions, publications and wider activities, both in Greece and abroad. As such, he was always considered as one of the potential successors of Serapheim. His election procedure, in which the entire body of the church hierarchy participated, was uncontested, and this undoubtedly bestowed upon him a strong legitimacy. A charismatic personality and media savvy, at first glance, Christodoulos gave the impression of a modern archbishop adjusted to the needs of the day. Yet his concept of a modern Church exhibited many particularities. Soon after his election and his inauguration, he initiated an all-encompassing policy, both within the Church body and the wider Greek society. In his numerous and constant speeches, sermons, interviews and public messages, reprinted in newspapers or broadcasted on television, he touched upon every possible issue, religious and non-religious alike. He was also very critical of major trends (especially the secularising ones) within Greek society, of politicians’ handling of internal and foreign affairs, as well as of the opinions of various intellectuals about Orthodoxy and the Church. In one instance, he derogatively called those asking for a separation of the Church from the state graeculi (contemptible small Greeks), implying that they were not real Greeks, because they were servile to anything foreign and did not deserve Greek identity. In addition, he capitalised on the revival of Orthodoxy and of religion generally in the 1990s while being highly supportive of the decisive role of the OCG regarding Greek national interests, which were, in his opinion, threatened in the new world order. This strengthened religious nationalism even further, something which had been spreading in the country since the early 1990s.15 Thus, Christodoulos went much further than his predecessor in making the Church an active player in Greek society and made his plans for reforming the OCG in the twenty-first century known from the very beginning. Unlike Serapheim, Christodoulos tried to reach all Orthodox circles and movements, even the rigorist/fundamentalist ones, and unite them in order

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to achieve his goals by avoiding unnecessary confrontations. To this purpose, he followed an integrative policy within the broader Orthodox body, trying to please the progressive, the moderate and the ultraconservative Orthodox circles. This diplomatic policy was mostly successful, especially when he was to challenge some state decisions (e.g., concerning the reform of identity cards). Conversely, it also created new problems for him. For instance, he was found in a difficult position when the state invited Pope John Paul II to visit Greece in 2001 without consulting the Church.16 This was the first papal visit to Greece since the Great Schism of 1054. Triggered by historical Orthodox anti-Westernism and by more recent anti-Catholic sentiments (e.g., in the wake of the wars in Yugoslavia, for which the Vatican was also held responsible), massive protests took place against the visit. A critical reaction was shared by some church hierarchs as well. Despite these difficulties, Christodoulos followed a more pragmatic policy and welcomed the Pope to Athens. In fact, when the Pope begged the Orthodox for forgiveness over the sacking of Constantinople in 1204 by the Latin crusaders, this was delicately promoted as a victory for Greek Orthodoxy and as a gain from the visit. To elicit such a self-critical utterance from the Pope also eased ultraorthodox circles to some extent. Christodoulos encountered similar difficulties within the ranks of the church hierarchy when he was to pay a visit to the Vatican in 2006. Despite criticism, he again dealt diplomatically with the whole matter without creating a rift in the church body. All in all, his overall policy seemed to be in many cases pragmatic and diplomatic, yet on certain points he clearly followed an uncompromising and harder line; for example, in opposing secularism, the religious de-colouring of the country and the de-confessionalisation of religious education.17 What also characterised him at times was his strong anti-Western rhetoric (e.g., in the context of the NATO intervention in Kosovo in 1999), especially concerning the rights of Orthodoxy and Hellenism. In addition, he did not refrain from criticising Western Christians in his public rhetoric as deviating from authentic Christianity, represented by the Orthodox churches alone. In this way, he was able to satisfy many rigorist/fundamentalist Orthodox circles. Despite some apparent contradictions in his rhetoric, Christodoulos’s multidimensional and all-encompassing policy contributed to his immense popularity among the Greek public. The latter had already been tuned in to religious issues throughout the 1990s – consider the huge mass of believers gathered to venerate the miracle-working icon ‘Axion Esti’, which was brought in 1999 from the Holy Mountain Athos to Athens cathedral for a short period of time. Was Christodoulos indeed an open-minded, progressive and modern church leader? For many, this was clearly the case, but his numerous critics and opponents of varied provenance, including the socialists under Simitis, had quite a different opinion of him and voiced their dissatisfaction from the very beginning.18 Christodoulos’s tendency to express his and broadly the Church’s opinion on every possible aspect of Greek life was seen as a

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dangerous extension of the Church’s jurisdiction, which should have ideally remained within its own territory, always according to the logic of a modern, differentiated society. Behind Christodoulos’s liberal and modernist façade, they suspected a totalitarian, intolerant, dogmatic and nationalistic ideologist, who was utterly detrimental to the functioning of a civil society. The politicisation of church discourse was also regarded in many respects as problematic.19 It was rumoured that Christodoulos had political ambitions and intended to found an Orthodox political party. From this perspective, the greater separation of church and state and limiting the Church’s influence were seen as absolutely necessary. It is no wonder, thus, that the gap between Christodoulos and his opponents remained unbridgeable throughout his period in office. It is worth mentioning here that Christodoulos’s interventionist policy and his constant appearances in the media were also criticised within the ranks of the church hierarchy itself. They were considered by some bishops as serious divergences from the Christian salvation message and the spiritual character of the Church. But what was Christodoulos’s main driving agenda? It seems to have been mainly about the new public role for the OCG at the beginning of the third millennium, which could be aptly termed ‘expressive interventionism’. It signifies the Church’s intention to actively and critically intervene in all domains of public life, to make its views widely known and influential and to accomplish all this in highly expressive, ostentatious ways; for example, through the pertinent use of mass media and modern communication technologies. Thereby the Church had to become the main centre of attention in Greek society. It is precisely this new, wished-for, public role of the Church that triggered heated debates. It is vital to distinguish here between the ‘old’ and the ‘new’ public role of the Church. In actual terms, the OCG, as the established Church in the Greek state, had always enjoyed public visibility, and its presence was evident in all aspects of Greek life, despite various controversies concerning its historical role.20 But the new public role of the Church was connected with the attempt to reclaim its special privileges within the country, to regain its lost power during previous decades and finally to reconfigure church–state relations in its own interests – all against the background of the post-1974 changes.21 Christodoulos’s related tactics included, first, an emphasis on the independence of the Church from state interventions and on making Church and state equal partners in decision-making and in formulating the future agenda for the country. He also intended to put pressure on the political leadership and keep it in a ‘state of hostage’ by supervising it and intervening in major public debates and affairs. In this way, he could draw various benefits for the Church, without creating a new political party. Second, being aware of the strategic position of the Church within Greek society as a whole and of its sensitive role in political culture, Christodoulos tried to articulate a specific public discourse by presenting the Church as the perennial saviour of the Greek nation and as the most trustworthy institution in the country. He was

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not afraid of entering into conflict with the Greek-controlled Patriarchate of Constantinople over jurisdictional and other matters, thus emphasising the national role and the independence of the OCG.22 In addition, in a period when misdeeds and scandals affected both the public and the private sectors of the country, he presented the Church as the sole remaining safe harbour and source of hope and integrity for Greeks. In such a generally corrupted environment, the Church could intervene and offer its help to the Greek nation and, not least, even to the state. Moreover, he intended to show that the political scene in the country remained dependent on the Church and that it feared the Church’s strong influence on Greek voters. To accomplish this, he portrayed the Church as being in fact superior to and more reliable than any other institution in the country. Can Christodoulos’s above strategy be characterised as modern? One should be careful regarding how modernity is defined and its relation to religion. On the one hand, Christodoulos certainly conveyed the impression that his policies were fully modern and up-to-date. He had an excellent educational background, knew foreign languages, was in touch with contemporary international institutions, used modern communication technologies and declared himself ready to discuss anything with anybody. Even if he criticised certain EU policies, he showed a vivid interest in what was going on in the administrative centre of the EU and opened an official representation of the OCG in Brussels in 1998. In other words, he was ready to enter into discussion with the modern world and express his views as head of the OCG. He also addressed numerous modern and pressing issues from an Orthodox point of view; for example, by creating a synodical committee for bioethics and supporting the foundation of a related centre in Athens. In 2004 he introduced a pilot scheme in Athenian churches regarding Gospel readings during the Divine Liturgy with the approval of the Holy Synod, in which the Greek original (Hellenistic koine) was to be followed by a translation into modern Greek, so that the believers fully understood the meaning of the text. This was mainly decided out of pastoral concern, although the plan was abandoned later on for practical reasons. Aside from this, a number of other phenomena can be observed within the broader OCG during the Christodoulos period attesting to significant modern developments. These range from an Orthodox rock band of monks named ‘Free’ (Eleftheroi)23 to the ‘Academy for Theological Studies’.24 The latter is a progressive forum of dialogue and reflection in Christodoulos’s former diocese of Demetrias and Almyros, founded in 2000 and supported by his successor, Metropolitan Ignatios (Georgakopoulos). Certainly, it would be amiss to call the entire Christodoulos period antimodern. After all, this period exhibited many faces that do not portray him as such, for he wanted to modernise the Church.25 But his concept of modernity was not compatible with the basic tenets of Western modernity, which has historically come to acquire global significance. Certainly, the concept of modernity has experienced a significant evolution and is construed nowadays more openly and pluralistically, especially with regard to the non-Western

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world (consider the concept of ‘multiple modernities’). Is it possible to argue that Christodoulos supported a particular form of Greek Orthodox modernity? At first glance the answer may be an affirmative one, but in actual terms this was not the case. One may articulate of course a particular modernity based on respective local premises, but one cannot deny some key concepts of modernity that have been historically articulated in Western Europe; for example, the religious neutrality of the state, the legitimacy of the secular sphere, the rights of some groups or individual citizens to be different or finally the idea of a civil society. It is exactly here that we can locate the major discrepancies between Christodoulos’s ideas and policies, and the postulates of modernity. To be more specific, Christodoulos, through the new public role of the Church, attempted to reverse the structural and functional differentiation of Greek society in the context of Western modernity and to combat the concomitant marginalisation of the Church. He understood his role not as the leader of the Church alone, but of the whole Greek nation by feeling responsible for its future and fate. In this way, he crossed the existing line dividing the jurisdictions of church and state and intended to reconfigure them. In addition, he did not seem to share the modern principle of a peaceful and tolerant coexistence of various actors, especially if they support diametrically opposite views. He thus sharply attacked his ideological opponents as dangerous secularists and showed a confrontational attitude26 that was not compatible with the modus vivendi of Western democracies, a fact that rendered him persona non grata for the opposite side. His public reception within Greek society has thus been marked by an unusually strong polarisation of views. He formulated his claims on the basis of the exclusive religious truth owned by the Orthodox Christian tradition and its superiority, a conviction hardly adapted to the exigencies of modern pluralistic societies. Furthermore, he insisted that the special privileges of the OCG in the Greek state had to remain intact. In this way, he turned against the post-1974 liberalisation, secularisation and pluralisation of Greek society and always referred to the enormous debt owed by the Greek nation and state to the Church. Although he cared for minority groups and the new immigrants in the country, his related actions were underscored by the mentality of a majority, dominant Church that was to remain unchallenged and enjoy special benefits. He thus understood the ideals of religious pluralism, multiculturalism, religious liberty and tolerance in his own way, not in the tradition of Western modernity. As a result, he pointed to the dangers that globalisation implied for the Greek Orthodox, to the hypocrisy of the Western powers and to the threat of the steadily expanding Islam. Most importantly, he repeatedly exerted strong public criticism against the Western modern project as a whole (e.g., against individual human rights, the rise of secularism, the religious neutrality of the state) and the Western Christian churches, which had distanced themselves from the original and authentic Orthodox tradition. In turn, he presented the Greek Orthodox side as qualitatively superior and able to help the West

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in overcoming its many deadlocks and impasses. He was thus convinced that the radical changes of 1989–91 offered a unique chance to the OCG and the Orthodox churches in general to reclaim their place in the public sphere not only in the respective local contexts, but internationally by making their message known worldwide. It is obvious that such views could hardly be shared by the socialists under Simitis and their secularising political agenda, thus the conflict between the two sides seemed unavoidable. This happened in 2000 over the issue of the new identity cards for Greek citizens that would exclude an entry for religious affiliation.27 This was an episode that marked the entry of the OCG into the twenty-first century. The whole issue had already come up in the 1990s, but was abandoned for various reasons. Yet the Simitis government seemed determined to bring it to an end, thus ‘teaching’ the Church and specifically Christodoulos ‘a lesson’. In real terms, it was a conflict over who held priority in the country: the state or the Church? The government proceeded to the change without considering the potential reaction of the Church, claiming its autonomy, superiority, sovereignty and authority. The identity-card reform was seen as part of various Europeanisation measures with regard to historical minorities, as well as the numerous new immigrants in the country. Pleading for an optional entry of data on religious affiliation on the cards, Christodoulos struck back by organising two massive rallies in Athens and Thessaloniki and by calling an unofficial referendum in the country. The Church managed to gather more than 3,000,000 signatures for its cause, demonstrating huge mobilisation power, which alarmed the socialists and other politicians. Christodoulos’s reaction was mainly caused by his fear of a future multicultural Greece, in which the OCG would be simply one among the many accepted religions. After all, it was a period when a number of issues pertaining to the non-Orthodox residents of Greece and the greater religious neutrality of the state were discussed; for example cremation, Orthodox catechism in public schools, the construction of a mosque in Athens and the status of the religious oath in public state ceremonies. The ‘identity-card crisis’ was then interpreted as a devious plan aimed at destroying Greece’s Orthodox Christian identity, as well as the historical bonds between Hellenism and Orthodoxy. Given the fact that the majority of the Greek population still remains, at least nominally, Orthodox, the Church argued that it was inappropriate to erase such a clear identity marker from these cards. The conflict monopolised public discourse and media coverage during 2000 and 2001, but was slowly pushed out of the limelight in the ensuing period. The state succeeded in issuing the new cards without mention of religious affiliation, while the Church under Christodoulos kept a policy of ‘wait and see’. Their relations were irreparably damaged. When the socialists lost the general elections in 2004, this was attributed, among other things, to the various conflictual engagements they had previously had with the Church. Interestingly enough, the right-wing government of the New Democracy party, which came into power in 2004 and which always entertained better relations with Christodoulos and

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the Church, did not reverse the earlier decision of the socialists regarding identity cards. Yet, even for the conservatives in power (2004–9), Christodoulos did not seem to be an easy person to deal with, and his views on modernity were generally not shared by them either. Therefore, they sought the opportunity to ‘teach him a lesson’ too and show him the limitations of the Church itself. This became evident when a multi-faceted scandal erupted in early 2005, which deeply affected Christodoulos and the Church.28 It began as a fairly commonplace corruption scandal, but evolved into a severe ecclesiastical crisis. At first, it involved mid-level clergy, but soon extended to high church officials and even Christodoulos, who was linked to a convicted drug dealer, police informer and secret agent playing a very dubious role in church affairs, both in Greece and abroad. Christodoulos denied these accusations, claiming that this was a plot orchestrated by his many enemies to weaken the Church and silence his critical voice in Greek society. However, the constant promotion of this crisis through the mass media and the inappropriate stories and revelations regarding the private life of some clerics triggered wider public interest and were certainly detrimental to the overall prestige of the Church. It is, thus, not surprising that the positive image of the Church waned among the Greek public, which doubted its alleged trustworthiness and asked for a clearer church–state separation. It became obvious from the entire crisis that Christodoulos was the main target of criticism, which in fact concerned the new public role of the Church. The attacks against Christodoulos aimed at opposing and neutralising his vision for the OCG. The extensive coverage of the crisis by the mass media was in fact remarkable. Even on state-run television the crisis monopolised the main news programmes and the interest of viewers for several months. This was hardly accidental. It is highly probable that behind this widespread publicity lay the clear intention of the new government to send a message to the Church and to the Archbishop. The obviously systematic and consecutive way in which the scandals were made public suggests the existence of an underlying ‘plan’, although not a conspiracy theory. It was simply evident that the government showed unexpected and unusual neutrality to the whole problem and avoided taking sides, leaving Christodoulos to suffer in the wake of serious attacks and accusations. It came to his support solely in the last instance, but still in a rather distanced way. At the same time, on several occasions it exhibited a critical face towards the Church by pointing to its numerous deficits and its need for improvement. Exploiting the crisis for its own sake, the government thus showed Christodoulos his limits and reminded him of the leading role of the state. It also hoped thereby to render him more cooperative in the future and keep him under control. The crisis made it clear that the Church was hardly the sole bastion of purity and integrity in Greece, able to guarantee a viable future for the country. It showed exactly the opposite, namely that the Church itself needed an extensive internal clean-up. More importantly, it offered Christodoulos’s opponents

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a unique chance to put him in a difficult position and even to try to get rid of him. Therefore, they blamed him for the Church’s corruption and wanted to force him to resign. Interestingly enough, his resignation was also demanded by several Orthodox clerics, professors and theologians, who in a public letter distanced themselves from him. They criticised his way of running the affairs of the Church as deviating from traditional Orthodox principles. For example, his way of rendering the Church public was regarded as incompatible with the humble, moderate and pragmatic spirit of the Orthodox tradition. The repercussions of this crisis have not been overly dramatic or catastrophic for the Church, while Christodoulos himself managed to remain in power. Yet, even if he was not transformed afterwards into a spiritual invalid, he did realise that he, as the leader of the OCG, was not above the state or outside its jurisdiction. Subsequently, he became more careful and cautious in his overall activities and connections, although he did not basically change the main convictions and orientations of his agenda for the OCG, which he tried to realise in a more tactful way. For example, his plan to reorganise Orthodox ecclesiastical education was realised to the extent that the four Ecclesiastical Academies (in Athens, Thessaloniki, Herakleion and Ioannina) were upgraded in 2006 to the status of universities as institutions of higher education run and financed by the state. This change was criticised by many as impinging upon the established religious freedom and neutrality of statesupported academic institutions. It became thus obvious that Christodoulos was basically continuing his previous policy and tactical moves. This was of course well known to his numerous opponents, who used the crisis outlined above as a channel through which the modernisation of the Church was demanded on an official level. Such a broader initiative was undertaken by the NGO ‘Hellenic League for Human Rights’, with the purpose of reconfiguring church–state relations on a novel basis. In December 2005 it submitted a lengthy document of twenty-one articles entitled ‘Regulation of State–Church Relations, Religious Associations, and Securing of Religious Freedom’ as a bill to the Greek Parliament together with a separate commentary. It was argued that the proposed changes could be adopted by the Parliament without revising the Constitution. The bill was officially backed by various minor parties, as well as by independent deputies and even by some deputies of the two major parties. In the end, however, the plenary session of Parliament did not endorse the proposed bill. The polarisation between Christodoulos and his many ideological and political opponents did not come to an end. It lasted up to the moment when his serious health problems were made publicly known in the summer of 2007, problems which finally led to his death in January 2008. Only during this last phase of his period in office did the two opposite fronts become less hard. It was even interesting to witness some of his declared opponents coming to visit the ailing Christodoulos. His illness rendered again his popularity high among the public, while the state ordered a four-day period of official mourning following his death and organised an impressive burial ceremony.

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Aside from these ostentatious actions and eulogies, it was clear that the legacy left by Christodoulos with regard to the new public role of the Church was highly controversial,29 as well as undesirable by the majority of Greek politicians and other actors in the country. The main question was then who was going to succeed Christodoulos and whether he shared the same vision for the OCG.

The period of Archbishop Hieronymos II: the beginning of the Church’s modernisation Christodoulos’s successor, in office since February 2008, is Archbishop Hieronymos II (Liapis), who remains in charge of the OCG. It is perhaps precarious to try to evaluate his overall period in office, which has not yet been completed, since later changes of orientation and policy cannot be totally excluded. Yet, on the basis of the existing evidence, it does not seem that this will be the case. This is because Hieronymos initiated from the very start a new era for the OCG, which was in many respects different from that of his predecessor.30 Even the image both church leaders have conveyed is different: on the one hand, the charismatic, populist, hyperactive and mediasavvy Christodoulos; on the other hand, the quiet, pragmatic, reasonable, moderate and low-profile Hieronymos. Yet, like Christodoulos, he had a very good education. He was Christodoulos’s main opponent in the elections for the archbishopric back in 1998, and belonged to the critics of Christodoulos’s vision concerning the new public role of the Church. It is thus not some marginal issues that separate them, but central ones with regard to the mission of the Church in the (post)modern era. As with Christodoulos, Hieronymos had been one of the well-known Orthodox hierarchs in Greece and had already made a name for himself as Metropolitan of Thebes and Levadeia (1981–2008). Among other things, he paid particular attention to social problems and welfare issues, developing extensive related activities in his diocese. He was always considered a future candidate for the archbishopric. In addition, his name was associated in the late 1990s with some financial wrongdoing concerning various EU subventions for the OCG, but his reputation was restored soon afterwards. Given the polarisations and the confrontations of the Christodoulos era, many were thus anxious to see how Hieronymos would govern and lead the Church in the subsequent period. A potential problem was the future relationship of those church hierarchs who supported Christodoulos and his vision with the new Archbishop. Yet, this did not prove to be a major problem because the new Archbishop has followed an integration policy from the very beginning and kept the necessary balance within the church hierarchy. He undoubtedly is not the media type, and this has affected his popularity, which cannot match that of Christodoulos. This is why he has been criticised as being inactive and preferring silence by taking a quiet stance rather than raising a critical voice in contemporary society. All this notwithstanding, Hieronymos enjoys

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a much greater reputation and influence among the political and the intellectual circles of the country. It is no surprise that in December 2009 the socialist government under Prime Minister George Papandreou (2009–11) invited him to its cabinet of ministers to talk in detail about the philanthropic activities of the Church, an act unimaginable under previous socialist governments. This action shows that Hieronymos’s personality and policy have generally been appreciated by the higher echelons of Greek society. The question is what has changed in the overall image of the OCG under Hieronymos. This concerns, first, the public presence and role of the Church, a matter for heightened discussion in the past.31 Already in his inauguration speech, Hieronymos made the contours of his future action quite clear. He understood the Church basically in spiritual terms with regard to the multifarious help towards and the salvation of the people. In his view, the Church is neither an impersonal institution and power structure, nor an ideology; rather, it is closely related to spiritual life and a matter of experience. The Church is supposed to be present in society and transmit its message, yet it must remain within its own realm and avoid getting involved in party politics, articulation of foreign policy, suggestion of social programmes or calling into question various state institutions and decisions. If we compare this moderate perspective with the quasi-messianic vision of Christodoulos for an allencompassing Church, then the differences between the two are more than obvious. For Hieronymos, all this did not represent a mere rhetorical strategy, but a real orientation. He has thus refrained from expressing his opinion and judging all possible developments in the country, while focusing on the better transmission of the Church’s spiritual message to the people. This position regarding the Church’s jurisdiction has, of course, been welcomed by the political world and other (secular) actors in the country as a clear change of direction in contradistinction to the previous policy of Christodoulos, which had generated so much turmoil. All this impinged necessarily on the issue of church–state relations, which took on another, different course. This did not signify the complete agreement between church and state on all points, but the mutual respect of each other’s realms and jurisdictions. Even if church and state may be not in congruence on many issues, they are able to coexist and cooperate for various goals. For example, Hieronymos has categorically considered foreign policy the exclusive domain of the state. This is why he has avoided taking a position on such issues openly. This became evident when the issue of the disputed name of the ex-Yugoslav Republic and neighbouring state of Macedonia/FYROM came to the fore again, given that Greece suggested a new, compromise solution to the problem. The whole issue strongly polarised Greek politics and society as a whole in the 1990s and subsequently, while the Church played a catalytic role in mobilising the masses and strengthening patriotic and even nationalistic feelings. This holds true for Christodoulos, as well. But Hieronymos made clear from the beginning that the whole issue was exclusively a matter for the state. He insisted that the role of the Church is to reasonably

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and pragmatically keep the unity of the people and hoped that the politicians would take the right decision on this issue. He has also been opposed to organising protests on the part of the Church or putting pressure on the political world through other means. This was immediately welcomed by the politicians, who saw quite a different orientation of the church leadership under the new Archbishop. The examples of Hieronymos’s new policy can be continued. When the financial crisis erupted in late 2009 in Greece and the socialist government proposed various new measures for church taxation, there were some reactions on the part of the hierarchy, but again there was no major confrontation. Although not very pleased by the future taxation plans, Hieronymos seemed to be aware of the entire critical situation for the country and showed a rather compromising face in his negotiations with the state. He emphasised that the Church, in cooperation with the state, could make better use of its property, while its sole aim would be to help the needy and poor people in the wake of the crisis. He avoided polarising the whole situation by using inflammatory, aggressive or populist rhetoric. Furthermore, when in 2010 there was a discussion on granting Greek citizenship to certain foreign immigrants, the Holy Synod of the Church of Greece under Hieronymos made some suggestions and warned the state to respect the national and social sensibilities of the Greek population. However, the responsibility and the right to deal with this issue were clearly regarded as belonging to state jurisdiction.32 These few cases demonstrate that the Church under Hieronymos basically accepts the differentiation process within pluralistic and democratic societies and states, which is an expected prerequisite of modernity. In such a context, religions and specifically the Church have a legitimate place and role to play, yet they should respect the basic coordinates of such a structurally and functionally differentiated whole. Another characteristic of Hieronymos’s policy is his acceptance of difference, divergence and alterity in the broad sense of the words. He does not insist on the existence or the preservation of a uniform and homogeneous society, which can hardly be possible under the conditions of the present global age. From this perspective, Greece should not be considered a fully Orthodox country without any differentiation. For example, there are Greek citizens who want nothing to do with the Church, but who have a legitimate right to live in the country, exactly as Orthodox believers too. This does not imply that the Church has to accept their positions and refrain from promulgating its own message. But it should respect divergent views and lifestyles and accept their right to exist, even if it disagrees with them. This is a cornerstone of a modern democratic, tolerant and pluralistic system, in which religious and secular actors can peacefully coexist and cooperate for the common good. This attitude can be discerned from the pragmatic reaction of the Church to the cohabitation law with regard to persons of different sexes (Law 3719 of 2008). This was aimed at regulating judicially the status of two persons living together without being married (in terms of property, inheritance, etc.). Some

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bishops of the OCG considered this law as the beginning of the abolition of the traditional Christian family, yet Hieronymos opted for a pragmatic and neutral position on the entire issue. Although he did not agree in principle with the new law, he realised the necessity for such legislation and accepted the right of some persons to live in such a way. He insisted that the Church was not a police to control the people and use coercion to discipline them. The majority of the Holy Synod of the OCG was negative towards the new law, but Hieronymos pleaded for a more open, tolerant and less puritanical Church, which should not violate the freedom of each individual to select a particular way of life. More importantly, this issue did not lead to conflict between church and state. Another related incident concerned the liberalisation of religious education in Greek schools in 2008, which had previously been dominated by the Orthodox Christian tradition. With the new legislation, religious education was made fully optional. In addition, even Orthodox parents could decide whether they wanted their children to attend such classes. Furthermore, exemption from religion classes could take place without a disclosure of the particular reasons for doing so. The liberalisation of this sensitive issue caused a reaction by many hierarchs, yet Hieronymos retained again a careful and mediating position. He was certainly not happy with the development, which could secularise education further, yet he accepted the right of certain Greek citizens to have a different opinion from the Church and to act accordingly. Thus, the Church for Hieronymos should never become a mechanism of coercion or a polarisation factor in a modern pluralistic society. This was rather the case with Christodoulos’s different policy. But for Hieronymos, the Church should not violate the freedom of the individual, which may simply accept its message or reject it without any repercussions. Besides, both religion and secularity have a right to exist in a modern society, have to be tolerant towards each other and respect the undeniable differences between them. In such a tolerant milieu diverging views may well exist, but they should not put the peaceful coexistence and plurality of various trajectories into jeopardy. Adhesion to a certain system of belief, thought and action should take place freely and without force. A Church intending to be modern should accept these prerequisites. This is usually the case in modern Western societies, in which the Western Christian churches have come to terms with the basic tenets of modernity, albeit with many difficulties, traumas and losses (especially the Roman Catholic Church). This development did not take place in the East for understandable socio-historical reasons, explaining why the Orthodox churches have had a quite different encounter with modernity.33 This can also explain why they still live in a rather pre-modern condition, on which they heavily draw in order to address modern problems. Yet, several steps, both timid and bolder, are made towards a more fruitful interaction with modernity, which is evident in Hieronymos’s overall policy. Another related change in the OCG pertains to the opening of the Church towards the unavoidable reality of the contemporary global and multicultural

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world. From Christodoulos’s perspective, globalisation was portrayed as a main danger for Greece’s national and Orthodox identity and integrity. Yet the same process is regarded by Hieronymos as a chance for the Church to adapt itself to modern exigencies and develop further, without negating the great challenges posed by globalisation to traditional religious systems. He thus seems to understand that the times of closed, homogeneous and static societies are over and that the OCG needs to evaluate modern religious and cultural plurality in another, fresh way and draw useful conclusions and plans for future action. This is particularly important for the Greek state, which, since the nineteenth century, has systematically initiated and implemented a national, cultural and religious homogenisation process. The situation after 1989–91, however, led to considerable changes in Greek society as a result of a massive immigration process from many continents, which in fact has altered the population structure of the country. This radical societal mutation found both the state and the Church unprepared, which explains the concomitant problems, such as the long-delayed construction of a mosque in Athens for the numerous new Muslim immigrants.34 These events also impinged upon the OCG, which started worrying about its privileged position in the country, in connection with the aforementioned liberalisation process initiated after 1974. This immigration problem intensified the worries of the Church, which was usually suspicious towards the proclaimed necessary opening up to religious and other minorities, new immigrants of varied provenance and multiculturalism in general. This suspicious attitude was clearly evident in the Christodoulos period, despite the fact that the Church never endorsed an aggressive nationalistic attitude towards the immigrants. In fact, it amply showed its philanthropic profile and supported many of them on various occasions, both officially and at a local level. What is however important here is to consider the background of the Church’s pro-immigrant attitude. During the Christodoulos period, as already mentioned, this came mainly from a position of power, that is, from a dominant and prevailing Church, whose privileged status in the country was unquestionable. Greece was regarded and portrayed as an Orthodox Christian country, reflecting the religious tradition of the majority of its citizens. In Christodoulos’s view, it was exactly this majority that constituted a normative and binding parameter in the Greek socio-political system, a key criterion for evaluating any proposed changes. This point also concerned the issue of the immigrants. In other words, Greece had to remain an Orthodox Christian, not become a multicultural country.35 Hieronymos has showed a different approach to this whole matter. At first glance, it seemed that he simply continued the existing church interest in the immigrants. For example, in 2008 the Holy Synod of the OCG offered an area owned by the Church in Schisto (Attica) for a Muslim cemetery, a decision that had already been taken in 2006 by the Holy Synod under Christodoulos. In February 2010 Hieronymos met, together with the Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew, various immigrants at Omonoia Square in central Athens.

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This meeting was meant as a symbolic act against xenophobia, discrimination, social exclusion and racism. Yet Hieronymos took these initiatives following a different agenda, namely not from the perspective of the dominant and powerful Church representing the majority of the Greek population. The Christian notions of love, philanthropy and sacrifice stood at the forefront of such actions. This does not mean, of course, that the Church gave up its own inalienable rights and claims on Greek territory. But such premises do not seem to dictate Hieronymos’s policies and actions. Rather, he accepted the recent unavoidable changes within Greek society, which required a new, modified strategy on the part of the Church in a more pluralist environment. This is, however, understood not as a loss, but as a challenge for future development. In fact, any competition with other religions or worldviews could make the Church better and stronger, because it would force it to ameliorate its structures, strategies and the promotion of its message. This is exactly something that many Orthodox prelates had earlier feared, considering the whole issue from the close and static perspective of the privileged Church, which had little to do to secure its position in society. Obviously, Hieronymos has understood that these times are more or less over, and thus slowly prepares the Church for the new challenges. In fact, the same process has already taken place in Western Europe in various local contexts long ago thanks to the passing from mono-confessional to more pluralistic and even multicultural conditions. A final development under Hieronymos attesting to his new strategy concerns the hierarchy and the preservation of its unity. After all, it was obvious from the very beginning that some older and influential bishops or several new ones ordained by Christodoulos shared more or less his vision for the Church. In a way, Christodoulos’s figure had acquired a paradigmatic status for them. Yet, there also existed other bishops who had expressed mild or severe criticism of Christodoulos’s policies. Given this mixed situation, the main question concerned how Hieronymos could balance and handle this diverse group of hierarchs with all their concomitant trends. The Metropolitan of Thessaloniki Anthimos (Rousas) was known for his ultrapatriotism and antipluralistic views, while the Metropolitan of Kalavryta and Aigialeia Amvrosios (Lenis) has been a severe critic of the state’s liberal legislation on moral matters. In addition, the Metropolitan of Piraeus Serapheim (Mentzelopoulos) has repeatedly made headlines in the country and abroad with his extreme (e.g., anti-Semitic, anti-Islamic and anti-Western) and rather idiosyncratic and eccentric views on a variety issues (e.g., his letters to Colonel Gaddafi and Queen Elizabeth II). Finally, because of his charismatic and powerful personality, Christodoulos was able to appear somehow as the ‘sole ruler’ of the Church, yet this was considered by many as incompatible with its democratic and synodical structure. Hieronymos stood thus in front of a major challenge, with which he tried to deal in a reasonable and pragmatic way. His major interest was the unity of the hierarchy, which could allow for various and at times divergent voices

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within its ranks. Such a unity was necessary for restoring the Church’s credibility, which had been seriously damaged after the aforementioned scandals of 2005 under Christodoulos. There was also an additional real estate scandal concerning financial malpractices of the Vatopedi Monastery (Holy Mountain Athos), which was made public in August 2008. Although the OCG was not directly involved, this scandal had a negative impact upon the image of Greek Orthodoxy as a whole. The transparency of the church structure was hence an absolute priority for Hieronymos, which was why in 2010 he substituted the non-governmental welfare organisation Allilengyi (Solidarity) of Christodoulos, which had been accused of serious financial wrongdoing, with a new one named Apostoli (Mission). In the light of these problems, it becomes understandable why Hieronymos tried from the beginning to avoid internal conflicts and polarisations within the hierarchy and applied a more integrative policy. He has understood his role not as the absolute ruler of the Church, but as the first among equals and the coordinator of the Holy Synod, which is not supposed to function in a centralistic way. Through the emphasis on the synodical institution of the Church and its democratic structure, he has thus been able to keep a stable and functional church administration and avoid internal splits. In turn, this strengthened his authority and position, which have not been questioned. Even if some bishops continue to express extreme views, this does not automatically exclude them from the Church. All in all, Hieronymos appears to be someone who is not afraid to become the target of criticism or to acknowledge eventual mistakes. This rather humble and unpretentious attitude seems to be satisfactory to the great majority of hierarchs, both conservative and liberal, who generally have good relations with the new Archbishop. Another example of Hieronymos’s particular integrative strategy concerns the restoration of good and viable relations between the OCG and the Patriarchate of Constantinople, which had suffered greatly under Christodoulos and which are of course of national importance to the Greek state. These mutual relations have improved, even if the various problems and incongruities between the two churches have not been definitely dealt with. The same attitude was shown by Hieronymos towards Western churches, which he has not collectively criticised or verbally attacked, as Christodoulos often did. In Hieronymos’s view, the Orthodox need to collaborate with Western Christians for common purposes and also to learn from them in some domains. This is why he visited the European Commission in Brussels, as well as Germany in 2010 in order to be informed of the welfare programmes developed by the Roman Catholic Church and the Evangelical Protestant Church there. This attitude is again indicative of a new Orthodox evaluation of Western Christianity in general, despite the existing and undeniable differences between them. Given the existing strong influence of traditional Orthodox anti-Westernism,36 this is certainly a courageous step forward. Bearing all this in mind, it seems that under Hieronymos the OCG attempts the first timid, yet important and constructive steps in dealing with the

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challenges of modernity. Hieronymos does not call into question the legitimacy of modernity, although he is not of course ready to accept it as a whole, without any modification. This is exactly what separates him from his two predecessors. Modernity seems to be for him an unavoidable reality, which also forces the Church to adapt itself accordingly, without of course sacrificing its basic tenets. He has also refrained from the anti-Western rhetoric that especially characterised Christodoulos. In this regard, the first years of the Hieronymos period marked indeed the beginning of a more serious and fruitful engagement between the OCG and modernity. It remains to be seen how things develop in the future and how the OCG will emerge out of this long-term process. It should not be forgotten, finally, that since late 2009 Greece is in a deep and multifarious economic crisis with far-reaching repercussions, both internally and internationally. Although the main target of the people’s reaction is the political sector of the country, the crisis has not left other institutions immune to criticism, including the OCG. The latter has been affected by this crisis in many ways and not only economically (e.g., the closing of its radio station in February 2011). The Church has tried to address this dramatic crisis from its own angle. It has systematised its philanthropic activities in assisting the huge number of needy people afflicted by the new economic conditions. It has issued its own official evaluation of the situation in a pamphlet entitled, ‘The Church Facing the Crisis’ (October 2010), in which it directed its critique against many domestic and international targets. It exerted a self-critique too, yet it did not question the legitimacy of the state or its primary responsibility in addressing certain issues. In other words, the Church did not put itself qualitatively above the state, which is again a characteristic of its modern orientation. Hieronymos even made a trip to Qatar in October 2011 to look for a better exploitation of ecclesiastical property and discuss the situation with potential investors. More recently, in December 2011, Hieronymos met with the Greek Prime Minister of an interim government of national unity, Loukas Papademos, to discuss the better coordination of measures to help the numerous people afflicted by the crisis, whose number was increasing daily. But in early February 2012 in a letter to Papademos, Hieronymos took a more critical stance and supported a more decisive Greek reaction to the pressures coming from abroad in favour of harsh austerity measures that appeared to be mostly ineffective. He also pleaded for the search for other alternatives in helping the country out of the crisis. Yet, this critical letter should not be interpreted as a fundamental questioning of the state and its authority, but as an act of solidarity of the Church with the suffering people in view of the mounting public pressure and reactions. After all, Hieronymos still hoped that politicians will make the right decision for the country. It is thus obvious that in the turbulent context of this unfolding crisis and even if the general level of trust towards the political sector of the country is very low, the Church under Hieronymos wants to play a role without questioning the state or

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replacing it. In this respect, it does not appear to have ethnarchic ambitions, but accepts the modern societal differentiation and the already established modus vivendi between church and state.

Conclusion The above overview and assessment of the OCG during the last four decades, before and after the turn of the twenty-first century, has revealed its many transformations always in close connection with the overall changes in Greek politics, society and culture. Despite challenges and conflictual engagements, the OCG has managed to develop significantly throughout this period and to show a more modern face. Orthodox Greece is thus a country that can serve as a testing ground with regard to the issue of religion and modernisation, as well as the alleged immutability of Orthodox Christianity. The observed deficits in this domain are basically contingent and are due to specific sociohistorical parameters that have hindered a more fruitful encounter of the Orthodox world in general with modernity. This chapter has hopefully showed that such deficits are not intrinsically present in the ‘essence’ of Greek Orthodoxy, which can develop and change like any other religious system. It is thus beyond doubt that the OCG has broken new ground in many domains in the last years, a crucial feature that is likely to dictate its policy in the future as well.

Appendix 1

Religious leaders

• • •

Archbishop Serapheim (Tikas) (1913–98), in office 1974–98 Archbishop Christodoulos (Paraskevaidis) (1939–2008), in office 1998–2008 Archbishop Hieronymos II (Liapis) (1938–), in office 2008–.

2

Biography

Title: Archbishop of Athens and All Greece Hieronymos II. Archbishop Hieronymos II was born Ioannis Liapis in Oinofyta in 1938. He studied archaeology in the Faculty of Philosophy and theology in the Faculty of Theology at the University of Athens. He did postgraduate studies at the universities of Graz (Austria) and Regensburg (Germany). He worked as an assistant at the Archaeological Society in Athens and as a philologist in various gymnasia. He was ordained deacon and priest in 1967 and served in different ecclesiastical posts, including that of the chief secretary of the Holy Synod of the OCG (1978–81). In 1981 he was elected Metropolitan of the Diocese of Thebes and Levadeia. He also served on various church committees and as

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vice-president of the radio station of the OCG. He is known for his extensive social work and for his many publications. On 7 February 2008 he was elected Archbishop of Athens and All Greece.37 3

Theological publications

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Ekklisia [Church] (the official monthly bulletin of the OCG since 1923) Ephimerios [Parish Priest] (a monthly review for the Greek Orthodox parish clergy since 1952) Theologia [Theology] (a scholarly theological quarterly review since 1923) Pros to Lao [To the People] (special pamphlets of the Holy Synod of the OCG for the Orthodox believers on current issues) I Phoni tou Kyriou [Voice of the Lord] (a weekly leaflet of Orthodox edification since 1952) Panta ta Ethni [All Nations] (a quarterly review for external mission since 1981)38

• • • •

4

Congregations

(Except for the semi-autonomous Church of Crete, the metropolitanates of the Dodecanese Islands and other ecclesiastical bodies under the direct canonical jurisdiction of the Ecumenical Patriarchate of Constantinople, such as the Monastic Community of Holy Mountain Athos and the Patriarchal Exarchate of Patmos.)39 Structure of the Church: 46 metropolitanates of the Autocephalous Church of Greece, 36 metropolitanates of the ‘New Lands’ (spiritually under the jurisdiction of the Ecumenical Patriarchate of Constantinople, but formally part of the Church of Greece), 7,950 parishes.40 The most important are the Holy Archdiocese of Athens and the Holy Metropolis of Thessaloniki.41 Number of clergy and church buildings: 8,515 priests, 7,950 parish churches, 216 male monasteries, 259 female monasteries, 66 hermitages, 1,041 monks, 2,500 nuns, 26,798 chapels.42 5

Population

According to the Greek population census of 2011 (final results announced on 23 August 2013), the total population of Greece numbers 10,815,197 people,43 while the Eurostat, the Statistical Service of the European Union, calculated the total population of Greece for 2013 to be 11,062,508.44 Greek Orthodox believers constitute the overwhelming majority and are considered to make up more than 92 percent of the total population. There are also about 50,000 Roman Catholics, about 5,000 Uniates, between 40,000 and 50,000 Protestants of various denominations, about 35,000 Armenians and between 7,000 and

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8,000 Jews. Estimates vary regarding the historical Muslim minority (‘Old Islam’) in Western Thrace, but its members should number about 130,000. There are 5,000 Turkish Muslims in the Dodecanese islands of Rhodos and Kos. Additionally, there are numerous legal and illegal Muslim immigrants (‘New Islam’) after 1990 from the Balkans, Asia and Africa and their number is estimated to exceed 500,000, with Albanians forming the major group. There also exist other minor religious groups, such as Neopagans (between 10,000 and 20,000), Jehovah’s Witnesses (about 30,000), Mormons, Baha’is and Scientologists.45

Notes 1 On the relations between church, state and politics in Greece generally, see, among others, Philippos Spyropoulos, Die Beziehungen zwischen Staat und Kirche in Griechenland unter besonderer Berücksichtigung der Orthodoxen Kirche, Athens, 1981; Ioannis M. Konidaris, ‘Die Beziehungen zwischen Kirche und Staat im heutigen Griechenland’, Österreichisches Archiv für Kirchenrecht 1991, 40, 131–44; Spyros N. Troianos, ‘Die Beziehungen zwischen Staat und Kirche in Griechenland’, Orthodoxes Forum, 1992, 6, 221–31; Nikos Kokosalakis, ‘Church and State in the Orthodox Context with Special Reference to Greece’, in Identità europea e diversità religiosa nel mutamento contemporaneo, Peter Antes, Pietro De Marco and Arnaldo Nesti (eds), Florence: Angelo Pontecorboli, 1995, pp. 233–57; Nikos Kokosalakis, ‘Orthodoxie grecque, modernité et politique’, in Identités religieuses en Europe, Grace Davie and Danièle Hervieu-Léger (eds), Paris: La Découverte, 1996, pp. 131– 51; Antonis Paparizos, ‘Du caractère religieux de l’état grec moderne’, Revista de Ciencias de las Religiones, 1998, 3, 183–207; Anastasia Karaflogka, ‘Religion, Church and the State in Contemporary Greece: A People’s Perspective’, in Church– State Relations in Central and Eastern Europe, Irene Borowik (ed.), Cracow: Nomos, 1999, pp. 204–20. 2 For the Serapheim period, see Kallistos Ware, ‘The Church: A Time of Transition’, in Greece in the 1980s, Richard Clogg (ed.), London: Macmillan, 1983, pp. 208–30; Theofanis G. Stavrou, ‘The Orthodox Church of Greece’, in Eastern Christianity and Politics in the Twentieth Century, Pedro Ramet (ed.), Durham, NC and London: Duke University Press, 1988, pp. 183–207; Vassiliki Georgiadou, ‘Kosmiko kratos kai Orthodoxi Ekklisia: Scheseis thriskeias, koinonias kai politikis sti Metapolitefsi’ [Secular State and Orthodox Church: Relations between Religion, Society and Politics after 1974], in Koinonia kai politiki. Opseis tis III Ellinikis Dimokratias 1974–1994 [Society and Politics. Aspects of the Third Hellenic Republic 1974–1994], Christos Lyrintzis, Ilias Nikolakopoulos and Dimitris Sotiropoulos (eds), Athens: Themelio, 1996, pp. 247–86; Yiorgos Karayiannis, Ekklisia kai kratos 1833–1997. Istoriki episkopisi ton scheseon tous [Church and State 1833–1997. A Historical Overview of Their Relations], Athens: To Pontiki, 1997, pp. 175–200; Ioannis M. Chatziphotis, Archiepiskopos Serapheim 1913–1998. Martyries kai tekmiria [Archbishop Serapheim 1913–1998. Witnesses and Documents], Athens: Ellinika Grammata, 1998; Vasilis A. Lambropoulos, Serapheim. O anthropos pou nikise ta gegonota [Serapheim. The Man Who Won over the Events], Athens: Vasdekis, 1998; Dimosthenis Koukounas, I Ekklisia tis Ellados 1941–2007 [The Church of Greece 1941–2007], Athens: Metron, 2007, pp. 118–27. 3 On church–state relations during the dictatorship, in connection with the first years of the Serapheim period, see Charles Frazee, ‘Church and State in Greece’, in Greece in Transition. Essays in the History of Modern Greece, John T. A. Koumoulides (ed.),

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6 7 8 9

10 11

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London: Zeno, 1977, pp. 128–52; Charles Frazee, ‘The Orthodox Church in Greece: The Last Fifteen Years’, in Greece: Past and Present, John T. A. Koumoulides (ed.), Muncie, IN: Ball State University Press, 1979, pp. 89–110. Athanasios Basdekis, ‘Between Partnership and Separation: Relations between Church and State in Greece under the Constitution of 9 June 1975’, Ecumenical Review, 1977, 29, 52–61. Vasilios N. Makrides, ‘Problemfall (West-)Europa aus griechisch-orthodoxer Sicht’, Religion und Gesellschaft in Ost und West, 2012, 1, 17–19. See also Grigorios D. Papathomas, L’Église de Grèce dans l’Europe unie (Approche nomocanonique), Thessaloniki and Katerini: Epektasi, 1998. See Angelos Giannakopoulos, Die Theologen-Bruderschaften in Griechenland: Ihr Wirken und ihre Funktion im Hinblick auf die Modernisierung und Säkularisierung der griechischen Gesellschaft, Frankfurt am Main: Peter Lang, 1999. See Isabelle Dépret, ‘Tradition orthodoxe et symboles religieux en Grèce. La loi sur le patrimoine ecclésiastique’, Archives de sciences sociales des religions, 2010, 149, 129–50. See Vasilios N. Makrides, ‘Byzantium in Contemporary Greece: The NeoOrthodox Current of Ideas’, in Byzantium and the Modern Greek Identity, Paul Magdalino and David Ricks (eds), Aldershot: Ashgate, 1998, pp. 141–53. See, among others, Theofanis G. Stavrou, ‘The Orthodox Church and Political Culture in Modern Greece’, in Greece Prepares for the Twenty-First Century, Dimitris Constas and Theofanis G. Stavrou (eds), Washington, DC: The Woodrow Wilson Center Press, 1995, pp. 35–56; Paschalis Kitromilides and Thanos Veremis (eds), The Orthodox Church in a Changing World, Athens: Hellenic Foundation for European and Foreign Policy and Centre for Asia Minor Studies, 1998; Vasilios N. Makrides, ‘Nuove prospettive dell’omogeneità religiosa: la chiesa e la fede ortodossa in Grecia alle soglie del terzo millennio’, in L’Ortodossia nella nuova Europa. Dinamiche storiche e prospettive, Andrea Pacini (ed.), Turin: Edizioni della Fondazione Giovanni Agnelli, 2003, pp. 185–236; Victor Roudometof, ‘Orthodoxy as Public Religion in Post-1989 Greece’, in Eastern Orthodoxy in a Global Age: Tradition Faces the Twenty-First Century, Victor Roudometof, Alexander Agadjanian and Jerry Pankhurst (eds), Walnut Creek, CA: AltaMira Press, 2005, pp. 84–108. For details, see Takis Michas, Unholy Alliance: Greece and Milošević’s Serbia, College Station: Texas A&M University Press, 2002. See Vassiliki Georgiadou and Ilias Nikolakopoulos, ‘Empeiriki analysi tou ekklisiasmou stin Ellada’ [Empirical Analysis of Churchgoing in Greece], Koinonia Politon, 2001, 7, 50–5. Cf. Vasilios N. Makrides, ‘The Orthodox Church and the Post-War Religious Situation in Greece’, in The Post-War Generation and Establishment Religion: Cross-Cultural Perspectives, Wade Clark Roof, Jackson W. Carroll and David A. Roozen (eds), Boulder, CO: Westview Press, 1995, 225–42. For example, in an interview given for the Greek periodical Pemptousia 4 (December 2000–March 2001), http://www.impantokratoros.gr/synenteuksi-ransiman-pemptoysia.el.aspx (accessed 3 March 2014). See Vasilios N. Makrides, ‘L’“autre” orthodoxie: courants du rigorisme orthodoxe grec’, Social Compass, 2004, 51, 511–21. See Charles Stewart, ‘Who Owns the Rotonda? Church vs. State in Greece’, Anthropology Today, 1998, 14 (5), 3–9. See, among others, Vassiliki Georgiadou, ‘Greek Orthodoxy and the Politics of Nationalism’, International Journal of Politics, Culture and Society, 1995, 9, 295–315; Vasilios N. Makrides, ‘Ortodossia e nazionalismo nella Grecia moderna: aspetti di una correlazione’, Religioni e Società, 1996, 25, 43–70; George Th. Mavrogordatos, ‘Orthodoxy and Nationalism in the Greek Case’, West European

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Politics, 2003, 26, 117–36; Nikos Chrysoloras, ‘Why Orthodoxy? Religion and Nationalism in Greek Political Culture’, Studies in Ethnicity and Nationalism, 2004, 4, 40–61; Daphne Halikiopoulou, ‘The Changing Dynamics of Religion and National Identity: Greece and the Republic of Ireland in a Comparative Perspective’, Journal of Religion in Europe, 2008 (1), 302–28; Daphne Halikiopoulou, Patterns of Secularization: Church, State and Nation in Greece and the Republic of Ireland, Farnham: Ashgate, 2011. Katerina Seraïdari, ‘Le pape à Athènes: frontières floues entre politique et religion’, 2002, http://www.afebalk.org/rencontres2002/textes/K.Seraidari.pdf (accessed 3 March 2014). Evie Zambeta, ‘Religion and National Identity in Greek Education’, Intercultural Education, 2000, 11, 145–55; Ioannis Efstathiou, Fokion Georgiadis and Apostolos Zisimos, ‘Religion in Greek Education in a Time of Globalization’, Intercultural Education, 2008, 19, 325–36. Nicos C. Alivizatos, ‘A New Role for the Greek Church?’, Journal of Modern Greek Studies, 1999, 17, 23–40. Cf. Stavros Zoumboulakis, O Theos stin Poli. Dokimia gia ti thriskeia kai tin politiki [God in the City. Essays on Religion and Politics], Athens: Estia, 2002, pp. 49–54. Yannis Stavrakakis, ‘Religious Populism and Political Culture: The Greek Case’, South European Society and Politics, 2002, 7, 29–52; Yannis Stavrakakis, ‘Politics and Religion: On the “Politicization” of Greek Church Discourse’, Journal of Modern Greek Studies, 2003, 21, 153–82; Dimitrios Kisoudis, Politische Theologie in der griechisch-orthodoxen Kirche, Marburg: diagonal-Verlag, 2007. For details, see Isabelle Dépret, Église orthodoxe et histoire en Grèce contemporaine. Versions officielles et controverses historiographiques, Paris: L’Harmattan, 2009. See, among others, Kyriakos N. Kyriazopoulos, ‘The “Prevailing Religion” in Greece: Its Meaning and Implications’, Journal of Church and State, 2001, 43, 511–38; Isabelle Dépret, ‘Le thème de la séparation entre Église et État en Grèce au tournant du XXe et du XXIe siècles’, Il Diritto Ecclesiastico-Giuffre, 2006, 2–3, 585–613; Charalambos Papastathis, ‘État et Églises en Grèce’, in État et Églises dans l’Union européenne, 2nd edn, Gerhard Robbers (ed.), 2008, pp. 121–46, http:// www.unitrier.de/fileadmin/fb5/inst/IEVR/Arbeitsmaterialien/Staatskirchenrecht/ Staat_und_Kirche_in_der_EU/06-Grece.pdf (accessed 3 March 2014). Yiorgos Th. Printzipas, Oi megales kriseis stin Ekklisia. Pente stathmoi stis scheseis tis Ekklisias tis Ellados kai tou Oikoumenikou Patriarcheiou [The Major Crises in the Church. Five Landmarks in the Relations between the Church of Greece and the Ecumenical Patriarchate], Athens: Proskinio, 2004; Victor Roudometof, ‘Greek Orthodoxy, Territoriality and Globality: Religious Responses and Institutional Disputes’, Sociology of Religion, 2008, 68, 67–91. Lina Molokotos-Liederman, ‘Sacred Words, Profane Music? The Free Monks as a Musical Phenomenon in Contemporary Greek Orthodoxy’, Sociology of Religion, 2004, 65, 403–16. See: http://www.acadimia.gr/ (accessed 3 March 2014). Anastassios Anastassiadis, ‘Religion and Politics in Greece: The Greek Church’s “Conservative Modernization” in the 1990s’, Questions de Recherche / Research in Question, 2004, 11, 1–35, http://www.sciencespo.fr/ceri/sites/sciencespo.fr.ceri/files/ qdr11.pdf (accessed 3 March 2014); Victor Roudometof and Vasilios N. Makrides (eds), Orthodox Christianity in 21st Century Greece: The Role of Religion in Culture, Ethnicity and Politics, Farnham: Ashgate, 2011. For details, see Vasilios N. Makrides and Lina Molokotos-Liederman (eds), Controverses religieuses en Grèce orthodoxe contemporaine / Religious Controversies in Contemporary Orthodox Greece, Social Compass, 2004, 51 (4) (whole issue).

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27 On this conflict, see Lina Molokotos-Liederman, ‘Identity Crisis: Greece, Orthodoxy, and the European Union’, Journal of Contemporary Religion, 2003, 18, 291–315; Lina Molokotos-Liederman, ‘Looking at Religion and Greek Identity from the Outside: The Identity Cards Conflict through the Eyes of Greek Minorities’, Religion, State and Society, 2007, 35, 139–61; Lina Molokotos-Liederman, ‘The Greek ID Card Controversy: A Case Study of Religion and National Identity in a Changing European Union’, Journal of Contemporary Religion, 2007, 22, 187–203; Vasilios N. Makrides, ‘Between Normality and Tension: Assessing Church–State Relations in Greece in the Light of the Identity (Cards) Crisis’, in Religion, Staat und Konfliktkonstellationen im orthodoxen Ost- und Südosteuropa. Vergleichende Perspektiven, Vasilios N. Makrides (ed.), Frankfurt am Main: Peter Lang, 2005, pp. 137–78; Isabelle Dépret, ‘L’Église orthodoxe de Grèce et le “combat” des cartes d’identité (2000–2001)’, Archives de sciences sociales des religions, 2005, 131–2 (2), 27–46; Isabelle Dépret, Religion, nation, citoyenneté en Grèce: l’Église orthodoxe et le conflit des cartes d’identité, Paris: L’Harmattan, 2011. 28 For details, see Vasilios N. Makrides, ‘Scandals, Secret Agents and Corruption: The Orthodox Church of Greece during the 2005 Crisis – Its Relation to the State and Modernization’, in Orthodox Christianity in 21st Century Greece, Roudometof and Makrides (eds), pp. 61–87. 29 See, among others, Constantine P. Danopoulos, ‘Religion, Civil Society, and Democracy in Orthodox Greece’, Journal of Southern Europe and the Balkans, 2004, 6, 41–55; Angelos Giannakopoulos, Tradition und Moderne in Griechenland. Konfliktfelder in Religion, Politik und Kultur, Frankfurt am Main: Peter Lang, 2007; Evangelos Karagiannis, ‘Secularism in Context: The Relations between the Greek State and the Church of Greece in Crisis’, Archives européennes de sociologie, 2009, 50, 131–67; Dimitrios Oulis, Gerasimos Makris and Sotiris Roussos, ‘The Orthodox Church of Greece: Policies and Challenges under Archbishop Christodoulos of Athens (1998–2008)’, International Journal for the Study of the Christian Church, 2010, 10, 192–210. 30 Konstantinos Ch. Papastathis, ‘Apo ton Christodoulo ston Ieronymo: O logos tis ekkosmikefsis kai i Ekklisia tis Ellados’ [From Christodoulos to Hieronymos: The Discourse of Secularization and the Church of Greece], Synchrona Themata [Second Period], 2009, 104, 21–30; Konstantinos Ch. Papastathis, ‘Authority and Legitimisation: The Intraecclesial Strategy of Archbishop Ieronymos of Athens’, Religion, State and Society, 2011, 39, 402–19; Vasilios N. Makrides, ‘Die Orthodoxe Kirche Griechenlands und der lange Weg zur Modernisierung’, Glaube in der 2. Welt, 2010, 10, 18–21. 31 See, among others, Effie Fokas, ‘Religion in the Greek Public Sphere: Nuancing the Account’, Journal of Modern Greek Studies, 2009, 27, 349–74; Lina Molokotos-Liederman, ‘Greece: Selective Secularization and the Deprivatization of Religion?’, in Secularism, Women and the State: The Mediterranean World in the 21st Century, Barry A. Kosmin and Ariela Keysar (eds), Trinity College, Hartford, CT: Institute for the Study of Secularism in Society and Culture, 2009, pp. 41–55; Stavros Zoumboulakis, Christianoi ston dimosio choro. Pisti i politistiki taftotita? [Christians in the Public Sphere. Faith or Cultural Identity?], Athens: Estia, 2010; Stratos Patrikios, ‘Religious Deprivatization in Modern Greece’, Journal of Contemporary Religion, 2009, 24, 357–62. 32 Vasilios N. Makrides, ‘Christianisme orthodoxe, éthique et droit en Grèce contemporaine’, in Droit, Éthique et Religion: de l’âge théologique à l’âge bioéthique, Brigitte Feuillet-Liger and Philippe Portier (eds), Brussels: Bruylant, 2012, pp. 241–62. 33 Vasilios N. Makrides, ‘Orthodoxes Christentum und Moderne – Inkompatibilität oder langfristige Anpassung?’, Una Sancta, 2011, 66, 15–30; Vasilios N. Makrides,

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35

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37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45

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‘Orthodox Christianity, Modernity and Postmodernity: Overview, Analysis and Assessment’, Religion, State and Society, 2012, 40, 248–85. Nicole Garos and Vasilios N. Makrides, ‘Die aktuelle Debatte um den Moscheebau in Athen’, in Christen und Muslime: Interethnische Koexistenz in südosteuropäischen Periphergebieten, Thede Kahl and Cay Lienau (eds), Vienna and Berlin: LIT, 2009, pp. 289–305. For more details, see Adamantia Pollis, ‘The State, the Law, and Human Rights in Modern Greece’, Human Rights Quarterly, 1987, 9, 587–614; Theodor J. Panagopoulos, ‘Die Religionsfreiheit in Griechenland’, Orthodoxes Forum, 1991, 5, 73–9; Adamantia Pollis, ‘Greek National Identity: Religious Minorities, Rights and European Norms’, Journal of Modern Greek Studies, 1992, 10, 171–95; Stephanos Stavros, ‘The Legal Status of Minorities in Greece Today: The Adequacy of Their Protection in the Light of Current Human Rights Perceptions’, Journal of Modern Greek Studies, 1995, 13, 1–32; Stephanos Stavros, ‘Human Rights in Greece: Twelve Years of Supervision from Strasbourg’, Journal of Modern Greek Studies, 1999, 17, 3–21; Dimitris Christopoulos (ed.), Nomika zitimata thriskeftikis eterotitas stin Ellada [Legal Issues of Religious Alterity in Greece], Athens: Kritiki, 1999; Dimitris A. Antoniou, ‘Muslim Immigrants in Greece: Religious Organization and Local Responses’, Immigrants and Minorities, 2003, 22, 155–74; Bert Groen, ‘Dominant Orthodoxy, Religious Minorities and Human Rights in Greece’, in Orthodox Christianity and Contemporary Europe, Jonathan Sutton and Wil van den Bercken (eds), Leuven: Peeters, 2003, pp. 439–54; Aristotelis Stamoulas, ‘Cultural Democracies and Human Rights: Conditions for Religious Freedom in Modern Greece’, Journal of Human Rights, 2004, 3, 477–97; Charalambos Papastathis and Grigorios D. Papathomas (eds), Politeia, Orthodoxi Ekklisia kai Thriskevmata stin Ellada [State, Orthodox Church and Religions in Greece], Katerini: Epektasi, 2006; Georgios Karyotis and Stratos Patrikios, ‘Religion, Securitization and AntiImmigration Attitudes: The Case of Greece’, Journal of Peace Research, 2010, 47, 43–57; Nick Drydakis, ‘Religious Affiliation and Labour Bias’, Journal for the Scientific Study of Religion, 2010, 49, 472–88. Vasilios N. Makrides, ‘Orthodox Anti-Westernism Today: A Hindrance to European Integration?’, International Journal for the Study of the Christian Church, 2009, 9, 209–24; Vasilios N. Makrides and Dirk Uffelmann, ‘Studying Eastern Orthodox Anti-Westernism: The Need for a Comparative Research Agenda’, in Orthodox Christianity and Contemporary Europe, Sutton and van den Bercken (eds), pp. 87–120. Data from the Diptycha 2011 tis Ekklisias tis Ellados [Diptychs 2011 of the Church of Greece], Athens: Apostoliki Diakonia tis Ekklisias tis Ellados, 2011, p. 402. Ibid., pp. 390–1. Ibid., pp. 897–969. Ibid., pp. 362–6, 1201. Ibid., pp. 402–38, 547–55. Ibid., p. 1201. See: http://www.statistics.gr/portal/page/portal/ESYE/BUCKET/General/ ELLAS_IN_NUMBERS_EN.pdf (accessed 3 March 2014). See: http://appsso.eurostat.ec.europa.eu/nui/show.do?dataset=demo_gind&lang= en (accessed 3 March 2014). Information on religious and other minorities as well as immigrants in Greece can be drawn from many sources; for example, Richard Clogg (ed.), Minorities in Greece: Aspects of a Plural Society, London: Hurst and Co., 2002, and the thematic issue Minorities in Greece – Historical Issues and New Perspectives of the journal Jahrbücher für Geschichte und Kultur Südosteuropas, 2003, 5.

10 The Polish Orthodox Church Edward D. Wynot

As a branch of Christianity historically inclined to accommodate itself to the particular governing system within whose jurisdiction it functions, the Eastern Orthodox Church is accustomed to adapting itself to whatever changes may occur in the format and policies of that state. From the emergence of the independent Polish state following the First World War down to the present era, the Polish Autocephalous Orthodox Church provides one of the best illustrations of this tendency. Throughout the changes of the country’s political landscape, the Church has been forced not only to acclimate to a new political environment, but also adjust to drastically altered geographic and demographic situations. This chapter will examine how the Polish Orthodox Church reorientated itself in the face of the new challenges presented with the collapse of the ruling communist regime in 1989 and the subsequent necessity to function in a completely alien political and socio-economic setting.

Polish Orthodoxy under communist rule, 1945–1989 During the nearly fifty years during which it functioned under a Communist government, the Church appeared to play several roles assigned it by the regime.1 One was to replace the Greek Catholic Church, more commonly referred to as the ‘Byzantine Rite’, ‘Eastern Rite’ or simply ‘Uniate’ Church, as the sole legally accepted faith of the small Ukrainian minority remaining within the new Polish borders. Viewed as a main repository of Ukrainian nationalism, those East European countries harbouring members of this nationality followed the Kremlin’s lead in attempting to eradicate the Uniate faith from their borders. Simultaneously, the regime sought to use the smaller Orthodox Church as a foil against the much larger and more established Roman Catholic Church, which presented itself as the historic champion and guardian of Polish national identity against a state widely seen as an extension of the Russian imperium. Finally, by allowing the Orthodox Church a modicum of freedom to carry out its religious mission with a minimum of harassment, the regime could present it to the outside world as an example of official tolerance.

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The Polish Orthodox Church and the politics of democracy The fall of communism and its replacement by a government based on the opposition Solidarity movement opened new possibilities, while also offering fresh challenges for the Polish Orthodox Church. From the relatively safe and predictable framework provided by both the Moscow-backed government and the Russian Orthodox Church, Polish Orthodoxy suddenly and unexpectedly faced the daunting prospect of both advancing and defending its interests in a potentially more hostile environment. An aggressive Roman Catholic Church eager to claim its rewards for its support of the opposition movement, the emergence into the open of ancient ethnic animosities largely suppressed by the communists and the need to assert itself into the roughand-tumble of democratic participatory politics all combined to exert pressure on the Orthodox Church to a degree unseen since the early postwar years. Consequently, the final decade of the twentieth century generated forces within and around the Church that are still playing out in the current decade. Observing what she termed the ‘Patterns of Religio-National Symbiosis in Eastern Europe’, historian Pedro Ramet noted that because ‘Religion tells people what the purpose of society is, and legitimates or denies legitimacy to specific political orders’, any religion ‘is thus intrinsically political [author’s emphasis]; therefore, ‘religious organizations may be understood, at least in part, to be vestigial political organizations’.2 Without question the towering presence of the Roman Catholic Church certainly fits this description. Now able to flex its substantial political and financial muscles more freely than ever, it provided the single most important factor that affected virtually every activity of the Orthodox Church. Terming the former a ‘Julianic Church’, Ramet further observed that when such a church ‘is given access to power, it is apt to become a theocratic church, meaning it will try to use state mechanisms to impose the rules and religious values of its own faith on everyone living in the territory of the given society, including those believers who subscribe to other faiths’.3 Recognising that the non-Catholic faiths were understandably nervous about such a prospect, as the ‘Roundtable Talks’ between Solidarity and government representatives got underway the latter assured non-Catholic leaders that they need not fear that the state would ‘reach an accord with the Roman Catholic Church at their expense’, and promised to push for legislation guaranteeing religious freedom for all.4 Indeed, a full decade before the departure of the Communist government, there were indications that the Catholic Church was beginning to assert its considerable political power. A special ‘Background Report’ entitled Poland’s Politics in the Aftermath of Pope John Paul II’s Election, prepared by the Radio Free Europe Research Division for US President Jimmy Carter prior to his visit to Poland in December 1978, highlighted the growing political importance of the Catholic Church even before the demise of communist

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rule.5 Noting that there was ‘little doubt that the election of John Paul II has had a profound effect in Poland’, the report noted that ‘the most obvious consequence of the papal election has been the enhancement of the Church’s role in public affairs’. Moreover, ‘the public prestige and influence of the Church are greater today than perhaps ever before’, as its demands for ‘freedom of action within the system … have reached a new momentum’. The report concludes that ‘more important, during the last two years or so there has been an implicit rapprochement between Poland’s Catholic Church and the dissidents’, as ‘Catholic priests have been among the founders and activists of principal opposition groups’. Not surprisingly, given its enthusiastic backing of the anti-communist opposition in 1989, the Catholic leadership certainly expected ready access for its agenda from the new Solidarity government. In the run-up to the June parliamentary elections, the hierarchy openly supported Solidarity candidates, providing such in-kind aid as office space, copy machines and personnel assistance. The clergy mobilised behind Solidarity, urging parishioners in sermons to vote for its lists, and occasionally even attending Solidarity rallies and blessing the movement’s banners.6 The Church obtained benefits from its aggressive stance even before the balloting. A nervous communist-dominated Parliament on 17 May passed three laws redefining the relationship of organised religion to the state, with representatives of the non-Catholic faiths participating in drafting the legislation.7 Two of them provided the promised ‘freedoms of conscience and religion’, and extended social insurance coverage to clergy of all denominations. However, the third statute, regulating the legal institutional status of the Catholic Church in Poland, was the most controversial and, to the Orthodox Church, potentially the most threatening. Apart from allowing the establishment of Catholic educational, charitable and social organisations, this law dealt with the contentious issue of returning previously confiscated properties to the Church. The latter proposed that all churches and religious institutions (monasteries, convents, etc.) in the possession of Latin-rite Catholics at the time of the law’s adoption should officially become Catholic property – including those former Uniate, Orthodox and Protestant churches seized by the Roman Catholics after the Second World War. It further demanded the transfer to the Latin Rite Church of legal ownership of those former Orthodox churches that had been given to the Uniates during the previous centuries. While the final version of the law did not include these provisions, they did offer an insight into the ultimate goals of the Catholic Church, and hence gave fair warning to the Orthodox leadership of potential trouble ahead. 8 An alarmed Orthodox leadership promptly reacted. Under the terms of the ‘Roundtable Accords’, in the forthcoming ‘free’ elections to parliament the communists and their affiliates were ‘guaranteed’ 65 per cent of the seats in the lower chamber (Sejm), while the remaining seats were to be openly contested, along with the 100 seats in the reconstituted upper chamber (Senate). Eight of the ‘guaranteed’ seats were set aside for the Polish Ecumenical Council,

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which ran its candidates on the Christian Social Union list. Three days before the 4 June balloting, Metropolitan Bazyli issued a public statement urging the Orthodox faithful to vote for all pro-government candidates.9 In somewhat inflammatory terms, he praised the governing system that had ‘brought human dignity back to the Orthodox people’, by permitting the restoration of 150 churches destroyed during the war, and asked his followers to ‘come to the polls united in order to elect the best men of Poland who sacrificed much for the sake of the country’s reconstruction and now bear responsibility before the Lord and nation’. Warning against listening to ‘demagogy’ from those who find that it is ‘easier to polemic than govern’, Bazyli concluded by thanking members of the Orthodox community for their ‘prayers for the authorities and the army’, and calling again for them to ‘vote for active patriots … who had done their civic duty’. When the balloting was over, the Uniate and Orthodox churches had each claimed one seat in the Sejm. The Orthodox leadership soon found itself engaged in a multifaceted struggle with both the Catholic hierarchy and its faithful. The Vatican itself offered mixed signals about its intentions towards its ‘Sister Church’. In a speech during a June 1991 meeting with representatives of the Orthodox Church in a prayer service at the latter’s cathedral in Białystok, Pope John Paul II used that very term to describe the ideal relationship between Catholicism and Orthodoxy.10 He then summoned both sides to ‘forgive each other in the spirit of mutual reconciliation for the wrongs we have done to each other in the past, so that we may shape our new relations in a truly evangelical way [emphasis in the original] and build a better future for our reconciled churches’. He concluded by rejecting ‘every form of proselytism, every attitude which would or could be perceived as a lack of respect’. Yet a scant five months later, in his speech opening a two-week conference of European bishops at the Vatican, the Pope expressed the hope that the assembled synod would ‘move souls toward a new evangelization of Europe in this decisive historical moment’, and declared his desire that ‘the Church be listened to by men and by societies’.11

The Orthodox Church and the struggle over church properties Perhaps the most contentious issue, and occasionally the most violent, involved ownership of church properties. It remains perhaps the single greatest obstacle to the steady growth of Polish Orthodoxy, and was a steady drain on that faith’s already-strained resources. The controversy over ownership of the historic monastery complex of Supraśl, near the northeastern city of Białystok, offers an excellent example of how complicated and emotionally charged this issue could be.12 Functioning under a charter issued by the Ecumenical Patriarch of Constantinople in 1498 and enjoying the financial and political patronage of the noble Chodkiewicz family, Supraśl belonged to the Orthodox Church until 1614, when it was taken over by the Uniates, who returned it to Orthodox control in 1838. Following the reconstitution of an independent Poland after the First World War, the Polish government first nationalised the monastery,

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and then transferred it to the Roman Catholic Church in 1923, an action later upheld by a court ruling. Given its unfortunate location in the midst of the Eastern Front in the Second World War, Supraśl incurred heavy damage during the Russian advance in 1944. It was renationalised by the post-war communist government, which converted several buildings to secular use and retained control of it until the regime’s collapse in 1989. Early into the post-communist era, both Orthodox and Catholic churches took advantage of the laws passed in May 1989 to begin reclaiming ownership of religious properties confiscated by the communists. Nothing conclusive on the Supraśl case occurred until 1993, after Cardinal Archbishop Józef Glemp, Primate of the Polish Roman Catholic Church, visited Moscow and met with Russian Orthodox Patriarch Aleksii II in August 1992. During their conversation the two leaders discussed the sensitive matter of each faith returning religious properties to their rightful owners, but did not outline any specific procedures for this undertaking.13 Previously, the President of Belarus, Stanislav Shushkevich, during a state visit to Poland had asked Polish President Lech Wałęsa to return the monastery to the Orthodox, and there was speculation that the latter would discuss the matter during his return visit to Minsk the following year.14 With the issue now assuming international importance, events began to move more swiftly. At a March 1993 meeting of the Joint Church–Government Commission established to deal with such problems, state officials asked Catholic representatives to abandon their official claim to Supraśl, and the episcopate agreed. Encouraged by this new development, two months later Polish Orthodox leaders, seeking to visibly assert their rightful historic claim to the monastery, organised an international symposium at the monastery on the theme ‘The Supraśl Monastery in the History of the Old Orthodox Church’, with attendees from the United States, Canada and Western Europe. At its conclusion, fifty-nine of the participants signed a letter addressed jointly to President Wałęsa and Prime Minister Hanna Suchocka asking the two top Polish leaders to support the Orthodox claim to the complex. In a thinly veiled reference to the earlier Glemp–Aleksii II meeting, it concluded by noting that the ‘lack of decision on this issue hampers ecumenical dialogue between the sister churches and fraternal Slavic nations’.15 Shortly thereafter 120 members of parliament representing a variety of political and religious affiliations signed a petition with a similar request.16 Even the Union of Ukrainians in Poland, the largest organisation representing the country’s 300,000 Ukrainians, entered the fray. When it held a congress to discuss issues impacting that minority, among its actions was a resolution to the Roman Catholic episcopate asking for the withdrawal of its claims to Supraśl.17 The stage was now set for a major legal battle that dragged on for several years. In mid-June 1993 Jan Maria Rokita, head of the Council of Ministers’ [Cabinet] Office, sent a letter to the newly appointed head of the Białystok Roman Catholic diocese, Archbishop Stanisław Szmecki, reminding him of the episcopate’s consent to drop its claims to Supraśl. As an added incentive,

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Rokita offered a state grant of 400 million zloty to assist in repairing a Catholic chapel within the complex.18 After Wałęsa announced his approval of the transfer, Rokita followed up this move by issuing an order officially returning the monastery to the Orthodox Church, an action vigorously contested by both Roman Catholics and Uniates but upheld two months later by Rokita’s successor, Michal Strak.19 The following year the Catholic Church challenged the legality of the cabinet move on technical grounds involving jurisdictional and procedural issues, and was rewarded in May 1995 when the Supreme Administrative Court overturned the decision. However, the court emphasised that it was not declaring who was the rightful owner of the property, but only that the legal procedures applied by the Cabinet Office were faulty and not in accordance with established statutes.20 That ruling returned the matter to the full cabinet for a final decision, thereby making it a political matter and galvanising Orthodox supporters into a sustained lobbying effort. Several prominent intellectuals and cultural figures of varying denominations appealed to the government to award the monastery to the Orthodox Church. One notable, historian Stanislaw Stawicki, recalled the lofty pledges of ecumenism voiced by Pope John Paul II during his 1991 visit and asked whether the Catholic claim to Supraśl can ‘really be described as a prerogative, or is it best summed up by the provocative slogan, “the strongest takes all?”’21 In July 1995, twenty intellectuals signed an open letter to Prime Minister Józef Oleksy asking for the prompt transfer of the property to the Orthodox, calling the Catholic counterclaims ‘an attempt on their heritage and actions to deprive them of religious and national identity’.22 The following month several thousand Orthodox from Poland, Belarus and Lithuania embarked on a ‘walking pilgrimage’ to the Grabarka Shrine, holiest site in Polish Orthodoxy, near Supraśl. Ostensibly to celebrate the Feast of the Transfiguration, the action was reportedly also designed to ‘persuade the authorities of Supraśl, Białystok Province, to solve the dispute over the local monastery buildings and return them to the Orthodox Church’.23 Their efforts were finally rewarded when on 28 February 1996 the Cabinet Office officially informed both parties that the government had decided to award Supraśl to the Orthodox Church. Archbishop Sawa, head of the Church, welcomed the ruling as one that ‘serves to correct historical mistakes’, and pledged to make the monastery a ‘place of prayer, work and peace for representatives of various denominations and ideologies’, a stance applauded by the Roman Catholic leadership.24 After nearly half a decade, countless petitions, legal challenges and monetary expenditures, this battle was concluded in favour of the Orthodox Church – the first time the state had granted an Orthodox request for restitution of church property, although it had acted favourably on some 1,200 Roman Catholic claims.25 While the battle over control of the Supraśl monastery played out in the legal and political arenas, other conflicts over church properties on the local level often erupted into violence. A 1991 decision of Catholic authorities to turn over to local Orthodox a church in Przemyśl belonging to the Carmelite

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order prompted several weeks of angry, occasionally violent demonstrations against the move. Seeking to defuse the volatile situation, John Paul II intervened and assigned the church to the newly created diocese of the Greek Catholic Uniate rite, a decision that pleased neither Roman Catholics nor Orthodox.26 Indeed, the entry of the Uniates into the fray now produced a three-way competition that in effect forced the Orthodox Church to fight a ‘two-front war’ over various religious properties. The situation became sufficiently serious to the point where even the special parliamentary committees on ethnic minorities and legal affairs, respectively, failed to craft a solution acceptable to all parties.27 Not even the 1995 demand of the Ukrainian government that ‘Russian and Greek Orthodox churches be returned to local Ukrainian minorities in Poland’ had any discernible effect.28 Indeed, the conflicts continued right up to the new century. In January 1997 a parliamentary commission voted to force the return of twenty-four former Uniate churches in Orthodox possession since 1966 to the Uniate Church, despite earlier legislation confirming Orthodox ownership of the buildings. Although elections later that year toppled the existing government before a final vote was taken on the issue, an Orthodox spokeswoman voiced the fear that ‘there is little hope that the Orthodox Church will obtain satisfaction’, for the matter showed once again that ‘what is good and possible for the majority Church in this country is not so when it concerns a minority Church’.29 And on the eve of the new millennium, Keston News Service reported the frustrations and anger of Orthodox leaders in western Poland, where local city councils have either delayed or refused outright building permits for new Orthodox churches or other religious structures. In some cases, the reported harassment involved such petty measures as charging far more for Orthodox use of a local cemetery than Roman Catholics paid, and even denying Orthodox clergy access to the chapel in the local hospital to minister to their patients.30 Indeed, to this day the chief Orthodox publication, Przegląd Prawosławny, regularly contains complaints of similar petty measures in this ongoing Catholic–Orthodox rivalry. Predictably, the continual conflict over church properties inevitably produced violence against those contested items. This was especially noticeable in the early phase of the Solidarity government. In February 1990, vandals desecrated fifty-two tombs and ten crucifixes in the Warsaw Orthodox Cemetery, and the summer months witnessed a wave of arson attacks against Orthodox buildings. Targets included the home of the Orthodox professor of church history at the Christian Theological Academy, the Holy Trinity Cathedral under construction in Białystok and numerous other churches, chapels and homes of clergy. The most tragic loss was the seventeenth-century wooden Church of St Mary at Grabarka. Considered the holiest shrine of Polish Orthodoxy, the church was first robbed and then, together with priceless icons and other holy objects, burned to the ground the night of 12/13 July in an act that some considered to have been orchestrated by Catholic activists.31

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While arson appeared to be limited to Orthodox structures, both Catholic and Orthodox churches alike were struck by a surge of robberies in the early 1990s. Virtually any item of religious significance or monetary value was fair game for the criminals, with icons being the main target of choice in Orthodox churches. The most famous were the Orthodox icons from the Church of St Onufry and the Holy Virgin of Jableczna, stolen in the summer of 1990 and finally recovered four years later. Despite determined efforts by Polish police and customs officials to stem the tide of religious thefts, the demand for these items in Western Europe and North America produced a steady increase throughout the first half of the decade. Indeed, an article entitled ‘Unholy Trade in Holy Art’ by a veteran observer of Polish religious affairs in May 1994 reported that in 1993, authorities had seized 1,327 stolen icons, compared with 635 in 1992 and 52 in 1990, and noted sadly that ‘this year’s haul will be larger still’.32 So seriously did the Pope view these incidents as impediments to Catholic–Orthodox reconciliation that during his 1991 visit he devoted a special segment of his address to the assembled Orthodox in Białystok cathedral to this topic. Expressing his ‘deepest sympathy for the painful experiences that have very recently affected the Orthodox Church in Poland’, John Paul II went on to say that such ‘sacrilegious acts bring great pain to my heart and to the hearts of all Catholics’, for anything that harms the possibility of ‘brotherly coexistence of Christians of different traditions comes from the Evil One’.33

The Orthodox–Catholic conflict over religious instruction in public schools While fighting these battles, simultaneously the Orthodox Church became engaged in another struggle with the Catholic Church. This issue involved the question of introducing compulsory religious instruction into the public school curriculum. Shortly after the newly elected Solidarity government took office, the episcopate mounted a campaign to persuade the Ministry of Education to permit religious classes in state schools. Despite the assurance of Cardinal Józef Glemp, Primate of Poland, that the Catholic Church did not want exclusive control of religious instruction but advocated the right of non-Catholic faiths to offer lessons to their own pupils as well, the minority religions became increasingly concerned.34 As it appeared that the state would agree to this demand, the Orthodox joined with the other member churches in the Polish Ecumenical Council in protesting at this move, fearing that nonCatholic children would face discrimination and that ‘already cool ecumenical relations could be worsened’.35 Restating its belief that religious instruction should continue to be offered only on church premises, as had been the case since 1961, the Council expressed its concern in a letter to Prime Minister (and leading Catholic lay activist) Tadeusz Mazowiecki, but also noted that, if it did enter the school curriculum, instruction in the minority faiths should also be offered, where appropriate.36

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Inevitably, this conflict over religious educational policy became intertwined with ethnic identities. A leading Catholic commentator from Western Europe observed that any move to require Catholic teaching in the schools ‘is liable to cause considerable bitterness among Poland’s religious minorities, in particular among the Orthodox Byelorussians [sic] in eastern Poland’. Noting that already the Belarusians were complaining about ‘what they see as Catholic proselytizing in the area’ based on the accelerating rate of Catholic church construction in regions of mixed Catholic–Orthodox populations, she warned that ‘the prospect of compulsory Catholic instruction being imposed on Orthodox children will almost certainly exacerbate growing ethnic tensions’.37 These fears appeared justified when on 3 August 1990, without even consulting the Ecumenical Council and bypassing normal parliamentary procedure, the government issued an order restoring to all schools religious instruction based on the standard Catholic catechism. Parents who objected could withdraw their children from the twice-weekly classes and have them instead attend classes in ‘ethics’. Neither form of instruction would factor into the formal grading scale. The order also provided for prayers to be said before and after class, and crosses to be hung in school rooms if the majority of pupils agreed.38 Reaction swiftly appeared from various corners. The Ecumenical Council promptly wrote to Prime Minister Mazowiecki protesting at the seemingly arbitrary and exclusionary manner in which the measure was fashioned without any input from the non-Catholic representatives. It also demanded the creation of a joint government–Council commission to deal with this and other such ‘contentious matters’ as pastoral care in hospitals, prisons and the military and access to the media.39 Meanwhile opposition surfaced from another, somewhat unexpected quarter. That same August the government ombudsman, Ewa Lewandowska, appealed the order to the state constitutional tribunal. Her appeal rested on several issues. One was the openly stated fear of non-Catholic and non-believing parents that their children would be discriminated against if they opted out from what was then envisioned as specifically Catholic instruction. The other main charge was that an order of this magnitude had not been approved by Parliament, and had been introduced in technical violation of the then-valid holdover communist Constitution that specifically demanded the separation of church and state.40 By spring 1991, resolution of this contentious matter seemed at hand. Mazowiecki finally met with the Council in mid-November 1990, and confirmed his government’s willingness to work closely with it on these and other religious-based issues that may arise.41 The following February the constitutional tribunal finally handed down its verdict, ruling that the teaching of religion in state schools was within the bounds of Polish law.42 The final version worked out by religious and government officials took minority sensibilities into account. Special committees of parents were to decide the actual curriculum content on a per-school basis, as well as whether the instructor would be

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a lay teacher or member of the clergy. Parents could opt for a class on ‘ethics’ in place of formal religious teaching; in either case, participation was to be voluntary.43 Simultaneously the Ministry of Education released figures showing that 95 per cent of all students (6,895,000) attended some form of religious instruction during school hours, with the largest proportion in the elementary schools, tailing off slightly in middle and high schools.44 As a final show of true educational ecumenism, in April 1992 representatives of Poland’s ten major churches, including the Roman Catholic, agreed on the contents of prayers to be said at the opening and closing of the school day, and the Ministry of Education duly accepted them without question.45 Although the following years brought minor disagreements over some of the technicalities involved in implementing the programme, all sides in this quarrel appeared content to resolve them quietly.46

A new legal basis for the Orthodox Church in the post-communist state These battles were fought against the broader backdrop of the pressing need to form a new legal basis for the post-communist state and those organisations and institutions functioning within its framework, including the various religious bodies. Inevitably, this process became highly politicised. After a year of meetings and discussions between Orthodox representatives and government officials, in July 1991 Parliament adopted a statute establishing the relationship of this church to the Polish state.47 In addition to granting the Church and its faithful full legal rights, the document provided for mechanisms to settle those issues left unresolved in the 1939 statute, such as disputed properties, schooling and pastoral outreach. The occasionally heated debates over regularising the legal position of the Orthodox Church paled in comparison with the struggle between the Catholic Church and the government over the latter’s institutionalised role in the new Polish state. Determined to establish a formal position that would be enforceable internationally as well as domestically, the Catholic leadership first pushed for the adoption of a new concordat with the Vatican to replace the original pre-war version and the various agreements with the communist regime negotiated over the years.48 The general strategy of the Church appeared to aim at first securing specific rights and privileges in the concordat, and then pushing to have those confirmed in the new Constitution, also already under discussion. It appeared that the Church had prevailed in July 1993 when the final version was approved by the Pope and prepared for signature and ratification by Parliament. The sweeping rights and privileges alarmed the non-Catholic faiths, who voiced their concerns to Prime Minister Suchocka in a meeting held shortly thereafter. While she reassured them that all churches properly registered under Polish law ‘will enjoy equal rights and privileges with the Catholics’, and the head of the Cabinet Office, Rokita, stressed that ‘Poland is not, and will not be, a theocratic state’, given other

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issues with the Catholic Church the non-Catholic churches had ample reason for continued concern.49 At this point politics intervened. That autumn parliamentary elections replaced the pro-Catholic conservative Suchocka government with one based on a more leftist party composed of former communists and their allies, the Democratic Left Union. Immediately deputies began to question various provisions of the concordat, calling for a thorough re-examination and possible renegotiation. Meanwhile, work had progressed on a draft for the new Constitution, which the Catholic Church demanded should single the Church out as having a special role in Polish life. When Parliament refused to bow to this request, over the next several years the two sides engaged in public verbal confrontations that occasionally were openly combative.50 The non-Catholic churches seized upon this opportunity to advance their objections to Catholic goals and tactics. In 1995 the Polish Ecumenical Council protested to the government that both the proposed concordat and Constitution, in their present formats, would favour Roman Catholicism to the detriment of the other confessions, and asked for the latter document to include a clause specifically affirming the separation of church and state.51 The following year, as it appeared the government might be ready to yield to Catholic demands, the Council held a special session to determine its course of action; the presence of Konrad Raiser, Secretary-General of the World Council of Churches, testified to the growing international interest in the Polish situation. At the meeting Orthodox Bishop Jeremiasz (Anchimiuk) of Wrocław and Szczecin complained about Catholic priests forcing non-Catholics wishing to marry Catholics to first convert to Catholicism, and voiced concerns about non-Catholics being refused baptismal certificates showing their own religion. Raiser took advantage of his presence in Poland to meet later with President Aleksander Kwaśniewski to voice these and similar objections.52

Post-communist Orthodox political activities The vote on the final version of the Polish Constitution revealed the political maturation of the Orthodox Church. After its initial misadvised foray into the political arena in the 1989 parliamentary elections, when it urged followers to support the communist candidates, the Orthodox leadership evidently reversed its position with an eye to the forthcoming first fully free presidential and parliamentary elections. A published statement jointly signed in May 1990 by Solidarity leader Bronisław Geremek and Orthodox theologian Michał Klinger and addressed to ‘Belarusians, Poles and Ukrainians, the Catholics and the Orthodox’, called on minority candidates to enter an electoral coalition with Solidarity ‘in the interests of society’. It went on to stress that national and religious minorities should assume their own proper place in Poland, and establish a strong local community presence to ‘mutually enrich’ themselves ‘spiritually as well as financially’.53 That October Lech

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Wałęsa, himself running for the presidency in an unexpectedly tough race, made a campaign visit to Białystok, centre of the Belarusian population and an Orthodox stronghold in eastern Poland, where he met with both Catholic and Orthodox leaders. Despite the mutual good will shown by all, however, in some heavily Orthodox districts the vote ran nearly 95 per cent for his opponent, which prompted the Ministry of Foreign Affairs to accuse the local population of a ‘disloyal voting preference’ under urging of the Orthodox leadership. This in turn brought an angry denial from Archbishop Sawa, head of the Gdansk-Białystok diocese, who stated that the Belarusians voted as they did ‘to draw attention to the neglect of religious and minority rights in Poland’, a decision ‘not in any way influenced by the Orthodox Church’. A leader of the Belarusian Democratic Union confirmed this, explaining that the vote was designed to ‘make a statement’ completely independent of the Orthodox Church and sarcastically wondering why the Foreign Ministry cared how Polish citizens voted.54 The 1991 parliamentary elections, the first completely free ones in Poland since the 1930s, witnessed a new stage in minority political activism. For the first time, national minorities were permitted to run separate lists apart from those of the standard parties, to focus on specific minority concerns. To encourage participation, the government waived those registration requirements obligatory for normal parties. With the exception of the Germans and Belarusians, the other minorities joined forces in the National Minorities Election Bloc to run a joint list. The latter formed two competing electoral blocs. The Orthodox Believers’ Committee stressed religious matters, enjoyed the complete backing of the Church, and included some Poles and Russians along with Belarusians. Conversely, the rival Belarusian Committee declined affiliation with the Orthodox Church. As one member explained, ‘We do not want to introduce religion where it does not belong’, for Orthodoxy ‘is an important component of Belarusian spiritual life in Poland, but we believe that using it in political games is a mistake’.55 Only two minority members were elected, of whom only one – Eugeniusz Czykwin – was Orthodox. One of the agenda items awaiting the new Parliament was a requirement that any candidate elected must belong to a party or group that obtained at least 5 per cent of the total vote nation-wide, a move designed to reduce the number of deputies who managed to get elected in their district but who were either unaffiliated with any party or belonged to one that had no national presence. The Ecumenical Council, running as the Christian Social Union, vainly protested that this would unfairly impact minority candidates, given the fact that each minority accounted for a scant 2–3 per cent of the total population.56 Thus, when the 1993 elections arrived, the Orthodox Church took the initiative and formed the Orthodox Electoral Committee. Based in Białystok, the Committee planned to run fourteen candidates to the lower house, and one for the senate, hoping to elect at least two legislators. Church officials, who previously had openly endorsed Orthodox

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candidates, announced that this time the hierarchy would refrain from any open show of support for those running under the Committee banner, with some bishops even instructing their priests to avoid favouring specific candidates.57 As Metropolitan Bazyli stated, ‘The Church encouraged its faithful to participate in the elections but did not indicate the person to vote for’.58 He went on to note that, ‘since we believe, with Saint Paul, that every authority comes from God, and will be punished if it commits evil, we simply thank God when the authority is good and pray for help when it is bad’.59 He then stated that the Church does not ‘try to engage in politics’, nor did it ‘encourage secular powers to intervene in our internal affairs’. These lofty sentiments notwithstanding, the Orthodox Church soon found itself again openly engaged in the national political arena. With President Wałęsa running for re-election in 1995, Orthodox leader Czykwin reportedly stated that many Orthodox would vote for his opponent, Aleksander Kwaśniewski, s a result of the ‘deteriorating economic situation and the fears that they see the development of a nationalist push to the Right’. Linking the rising nationalist sentiments with a Catholic hierarchy that ‘wants to persecute the Orthodox as a menace to the Polish state’, Czykwin reproached Wałęsa for not honouring campaign promises made to the minorities, especially the Orthodox.60 Subsequently, following his victory that November, Metropolitan Bazyli sent Kwaśniewski a message of congratulation, and reminded him of his promise to ‘respect all national and religious minorities’.61 The next major step forward in the politicisation of the Orthodox Church came in 1997, when Poles faced two crucial elections. The first involved the final draft of the new Constitution. After five years of often bitter struggle between Catholic and government leaders, the latter decided to place the question before the voters in the form of a referendum. Orthodox clerical and lay activists alike promoted an affirmative vote, and were elated when the final tally showed the document passing with a 52.7 per cent–45.9 per cent margin. Assessing the outcome, Fr Henryk Paprocki, a leading Orthodox theologian, noted that this was a victory for religious pluralism, since the Constitution guaranteed ‘the equality of all confessions in the face of the law, and gives the same rights to the minority churches as to the majority [Catholic] Church’. Unable to resist the chance to taunt the latter, he concluded that now perhaps the Roman Catholic Church will realise that ‘politics isn’t one of its greatest fields of activity’.62 To emphasise that the Orthodox believers were ‘good citizens’ of Poland, Metropolitan Bazyli appeared at the ceremonial signing of the new Constitution into law, while Catholic Primate Cardinal Jozef Glemp and Bishop Tadeusz Pieronek, Secretary of the Episcopate, spurned their invitations and were conspicuous by their absence.63 Emboldened by this success, the Orthodox leadership prepared for the upcoming parliamentary elections. It served notice of its intent to compete for seats when Bishop Jeremiasz, in an interview with the journal Sourozh, responded to a question regarding the participation of Orthodox youth in

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politics by stating ‘Why not? Politics is the art of caring for the public good.’ He went on to note that ‘pursuits in the political sphere do not belong to Church activity as such. The Church’s role is to lead man to the Kingdom of Heaven, and not to settle him down to life on earth.’ He concluded, ‘Wise politics in harmony with Christian ideals is a good thing, and so it is desirable that young people should become engaged in political life.’64 Simultaneously, the Church launched efforts to overcome the ‘5 per cent rule’ that had severely impacted national minority candidates in previous elections. The first step was to form a broad-based organisation that hopefully would garner more than 5 per cent of the total vote, thereby sending minority candidates who prevailed in their own districts to Parliament. To this end the Orthodox Church formed the Orthodox Association of the Slavic National Minority of the Polish Republic to run a joint electoral list. As its chairman, Eugeniusz Czykwin, explained, the Association was formed ‘to bring together Orthodox citizens of the republic irrespective of their nationality’.65 These efforts were rewarded when, after persistent lobbying, the State Electoral Commission in early September waived the 5 per cent rule for all lists advanced by the national minorities, a significant victory for candidates running on an organised ethnic-based platform.66 Unhappily for those on the Orthodox list (chiefly Belarusians), the only national minorities elected were Germans, and even their representation in the Sejm dropped from four seats to two.

Other Orthodox Church gains in post-communist Poland This disappointment notwithstanding, the Orthodox Church could boast of several major achievements in the post-communist environment. One of the most significant, and publicly visible, involved its position in the Polish Armed Forces. Under the previous regime, the Church had lacked a formal military presence in the form of organised pastoral care for servicemen of that faith. Orthodox requests for the creation of one were rewarded in April 1993, when the Ministry of Defence announced the pending establishment of a separate Orthodox military diocese, under the authority of a special Orthodox Field Ordinary Bishop, to set up and administer a network for ministering to its military personnel. Headquartered in Warsaw, the diocese would be funded by the Polish government under the defence budget, and be responsible for selecting and training those Orthodox priests attached to military units. Orthodox troops were guaranteed the right to attend religious services on Sundays and holy days.67 The following year the Orthodox episcopate selected one of their own, Bishop Sawa of Białystok and Gdansk, to head the new diocese, and he immediately began establishing a pastoral network throughout the country’s military districts. In recognition of his efforts, in May 1994 Bishop Sawa was named the Chief Military Ordinary of the entire Polish Army, and two years later was promoted to the rank of General.

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Sawa’s military career was interrupted in 1998, when Metropolitan Bazyli died. Ascending to the top leadership position in the Church at a chaotic time, Bazyli had guided both the organisation and its believers through some major challenges that could well have fatally damaged the faith were it not for his calm presence and steady hand. It is not an exaggeration to state that the very survival of the Church owed much to Bazyli’s leadership. The Orthodox episcopate selected Sawa to the office of Metropolitan of the Polish Autocephalous Orthodox Church, and he relinquished his military duties to Bishop Miron. The new Field Ordinary inherited a thriving Orthodox military ministry boasting seventeen chaplains working in six military parishes with about 15,000 service personnel and their families, with a new Orthodox church scheduled to be built in Warsaw as the military diocese headquarters starting in 2000 and funded jointly by Defence Ministry funds and private donations.68 Along with its growing importance in Polish domestic affairs, the Orthodox Church became increasingly active on the international scene. In August 1990 the Orthodox Catholic Church of Portugal, an offshoot of the émigré Russian Orthodox Church Abroad, voluntarily passed under its ecclesiastical jurisdiction, which also entailed its assumption of financial and spiritual responsibility for the 12,000-member group.69 Shortly thereafter the much smaller Orthodox Church of Spain followed suit; to commemorate these developments, the Portuguese government awarded Bazyli a distinguished order during his visit to Lisbon in 1993.70 Previously, Bazyli had received Anglican Bishop Henry Richmond, representing the Archbishop of Canterbury, during his visit to Poland in August 1991. Two years later Syndesmos, the international Orthodox youth organisation, at its annual meeting elected Vladimir Misijuk, a member of the faculty at the Polish Orthodox seminary, secretary-general of the body, which then transferred its world headquarters to Białystok. It also announced plans for a future international youth pilgrimage and an international festival of Orthodox church music, both to be held in Poland.71 Despite Bazyli’s statement that Orthodoxy had no structured ‘confessional programme’ to gain converts, but welcomed all who voluntarily chose to accept the faith, the Church even launched a missionary programme in newly independent Ukraine and Belarus that was sufficiently vigorous to prompt the Speaker of the latter country’s Parliament to call for a halt to such activity.72 As the new millennium approached, the Polish Orthodox Church appeared to have weathered the worst storms of the post-communist era and become an established feature of national life. Newly enthroned Metropolitan Sawa, on a ‘state visit’ to Russian Patriarch Aleksii II in late August 1998, was justifiably proud when he mentioned the successful ‘the inflow of young to the Church’ and the expansion of the military ministry, and correct when he ‘spoke with deep appreciation about the growth or the authority of the Polish Orthodox Church in the state and society’. However, Sawa also noted that the Orthodox–Roman Catholic relationship continued to be ‘difficult’.73

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Perhaps the best indication of the place of Orthodoxy in the overall Polish landscape came in January 2000, when Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew paid a visit to Poland on the invitation of the Speaker of the Sejm, Maciej Płaźyński. After a brief session with President Kwaśniewski, Bartholomew met with Prime Minister Jerzy Bujek, who reportedly ‘stressed the important role of cooperation of the Polish government with the Orthodox Church, especially for the protection of rights and cultural heritage of religious and ethnic minorities’.74 The following day the Patriarch addressed the Sejm, stressing that the ultimate goal of the Orthodox Church is ‘to attain agreement among people’, and thus does not support political parties ‘under any circumstances’ since this practice would lead to ‘divisions within societies’. Following this address, Speaker Płaźyński stated that the Patriarch’s visit and meetings ‘[serve] to create the image of Poland as a country of tolerance in which all have equal rights’ irrespective of religion or ethnicity.75

Conclusion The Church entered the twenty-first century for the first time with a clear picture of its material and personnel situation. According to the Chief Statistical Bureau, at the end of 2000 the Polish Orthodox Church had 284 clergy serving 509,500 registered faithful in 222 ‘Church units’, i.e. chapels, shrines, schools, convents/monasteries, etc. in addition to actual churches.76 By comparison, the Roman Catholic Church had 34,608,967 believers served by 27,933 clergy in 9,950 ‘church units’, and the Greek Catholics/Uniates had 68 clergy serving 123,000 in 99 units. It is revealing to overlay these figures on the breakdown of Poland’s population according to self-defined nationality – the first time this category had been used in official census counts since 1931. Of a total population of some 38 million, nearly 37 million defined themselves as Polish. The two ‘core populations’ that provided the bulk of Polish Orthodox believers accounted for 48,700 Belarusians and 31,000 Ukrainians, or altogether nearly 80,000; Russians supplied another 6,100 potential faithful, with Lemkos adding 5,900.77 The striking imbalance between those citizens officially registered as Orthodox believers and the much smaller contingents of the self-defined traditional ‘constituent’ non-Polish ethnic groups perhaps indicates that the Church, far from being a ‘fringe’ denomination, had entered the mainstream of Polish religious life. Yet although the actual official numbers may have fallen short of earlier estimates, the Polish Orthodox Church could head into the new millennium confident of its role as a permanent feature of Polish life, its rights to exist and function freely guaranteed by not only national laws but also the international legal framework of the European Union, of which Poland would become a proud member in mid-decade. It had suffered through many hard times and difficult challenges, but this ancient Christian faith was at last an accepted integral part of the Polish Nation.

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Appendix 1

Religious leaders

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Metropolitan Bazyli (Włodzimierz Doroszkiewicz) (1914–98), in office 1970–98 Metropolitan Sawa (Michał Hrycuniak) (1938–), in office 1998–.

• 2

Biography

Title: Metropolitan Sawa of Warsaw and All Poland. Metropolitan Sawa was born Michał Hrycuniak in Śniatycze, Poland on 15 April 1938. After completing basic priesthood training in 1957, he enrolled in the Christian Theological Academy in Warsaw, graduating in 1961 with a Master of Theology degree. Displaying an academic inclination, he lectured at both the Orthodox Spiritual Seminary (1961–79) and the Orthodox Theological Academy from 1962 to the present. Ordained a deacon in 1964, Sawa then spent two years at the Orthodox Theological Faculty of the University of Belgrade, Yugoslavia, receiving a doctorate in theology, after which he was ordained a monk and took the name Sawa. From that point his career was divided between academic assignments (becoming a full professor of theology) in 1990, and administrative tasks in the metropolitanate headquarters in Warsaw. Consecrated bishop in 1979, he initially led the Łódź-Poznań diocese until 1981, when he transferred to the Białystok-Gdansk diocese, becoming an archbishop six years later. Sawa became the first head of the military diocese for the Polish Armed Forces in 1996, retiring in 1998 with the rank of general to assume the position of metropolitan, as which he was enthroned on 31 May 1998 in Warsaw cathedral. 3

Theological publications

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Kalendarz Prawosławny [Orthodox Calendar] Przegląd Prawosławny [Orthodox Review] Tserkovny Vestnik [News of the Church] Wiadomości Polskiego Avtokefalnego Kościoła Prawosławnego [News of the Polish Autocephalous Orthodox Church].

4

Congregations

Structure of the Church: As of 2002, official figures show the Church with 7 dioceses in Poland, including a separate one caring for the spiritual needs of Orthodox military personnel; 284 clergy caring for 509,500 faithful in 222 church units, plus an archdiocese in Brazil under Polish supervision.78

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Population

In 2013, the country’s population was estimated at around 38,383,809 people. The CIA World Factbook provides the following religious affiliation figures in 2002: Roman Catholic 89.8 per cent (about 75 per cent practicing), Eastern Orthodox 1.3 per cent, Protestant 0.3 per cent, other 0.3 per cent, unspecified 8.3 per cent.79

Notes 1 For an in-depth examination of the Polish Orthodox Church in this period, see Edward D. Wynot, ‘The Polish Orthodox Church’, in Lucian N. Leustean (ed.), Eastern Christianity and the Cold War, 1945–91, Abingdon and New York: Routledge, 2010, pp. 121–36. 2 Pedro Ramet, ‘Patterns of Religio-National Symbiosis in Eastern Europe: Poland, Czechoslovakia, Hungary’, in Eastern Europe: Religion and Nationalism, Occasional Paper Number 3 of the East European Program of the Wilson Center, Washington, DC: Woodrow Wilson International Center, 1985, p. 42. 3 Sabrina P. Ramet, Nihil Obstat: Religion, Politics, and Social Change in EastCentral Europe and Russia, Durham, NC and London: Duke University Press, 1998, p. 293. For a fuller examination of the ‘Catholic agenda’ in post-Communist Poland, see Dobroslaw Karol Pater, ‘Grandiose Visions: Changes in the Catholic Church after 1989’, Religion in Eastern Europe, 15 August 1995, p. 3. 4 Interview with Deputy Prime Minister Kazimierz Bacikowski in Polityka, 6 May 1989. 5 Poland’s Politics in the Aftermath of John Paul II’s Election, Radio Free Europe Background Report no. 260 (29 November 1978), Box CO 50, 3–1-78/1–20/81, Jimmy Carter Library, Atlanta, GA. 6 Paul Hockenos, Free to Hate: The Rise of the Right in Post-Communist Eastern Europe, New York: Routledge, 1994, p. 243. 7 Details in UchS Information Bulletin, 6 June 1989. 8 Details and analysis in Bogdan Szajkowski, ‘New Law for the Church in Poland’, Religion in Communist Lands, 1989, 17 (3), 196–200. For the full text and analysis of the law on religious freedom, see ‘The Law on Guarantees of Freedom of Conscience and Belief’, News from the Polish Ecumenical Council (Warsaw), nos. 1–4/22, January–December 1989, pp. 31–42. 9 SOP, 140, July–August 1989, pp. 7–8. 10 Full text of the speech in Eastern Churches Journal, 1993/4, 1 (1), p. 109. Full details of the papal visit are in Jan B. de Weydenthal, ‘The Pope Appeals in Poland for a Christian Europe’, Radio Free Europe Report on Eastern Europe (hereafter RFE-REE), 1 (23) (8 June 1991), pp. 35–7. See also The Tablet of 8, 15 and 29 June for full coverage of the papal visit. 11 ‘Pope Wants Church to Be Major Player in Post-Communist Europe’, reported by Frances D’Emilio for the Associated Press on 28 November 1991 (Lexis-Nexus). 12 For a comprehensive history of the monastery, including a detailed discussion of this controversy, se Marek Zalewski, Supraśl: 500 lat dziejow klasztoru i miasta [Supraśl: 500 Years of History of the Monastery and City], Warsaw: Instytut Sztuki Polskiej Akademii Nauk, 2005. 13 ‘Glemp: Catholic–Orthodox Relations Greatly Improved’, Polish Press Agency Release of 5 August 1992. 14 ‘War of Churches’, Gazeta Wyborcza, 28 June 1993.

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15 ‘Orthodox Church Asks Polish Authorities to Return Monastery’, Polish Press Agency Release of 26 May 1993. 16 The text of the parliamentary petition is in Sourozh, no. 53, August 1993, pp. 43–5. 17 ‘Ukrainian Union Holds Congress’, Polish News Bulletin of 7 June 1993. The resolution noted that for Orthodox, ‘this monastery is what Czestochowa’s Jasna Gora is for the Catholics’. 18 Gazeta Wyborcza, 28 June 1993. Szymecki’s predecessor, Archbishop Edward Kisiel, had been the most adamant in pushing the Catholic claims forward. 19 The text of Wałęsa’s approval and complete information on Rokita’s actions are in Sourozh, no. 54, November 1993, p. 41. 20 ‘Court: Supraśl Monastery was Unlawfully Given to Orthodox Church’, Polish Press Release of 25 May 1995. The verdict was not subject to appeal. 21 SYNDESMOS Journal, Spring 1995, p. 8. This is the official publication of the Orthodox Youth Movement in Poland. 22 The letter was printed in the official Orthodox publication Przeglad Prawoslawny and printed in English in a Polish Press Agency release of 6 July 1995. 23 ‘Orthodox Church Followers on Pilgrimage to Grabarka Shrine’, Polish Press Agency Release of 14 August 1995 (Lexis-Nexus). 24 ‘Cabinet Office Grants Monastery in Supraśl to Orthodox Church’, Polish Press Agency Release of 4 March 1996. 25 According to Eugene Czykwin, leading Orthodox journalist, activist and only representative of Polish Orthodoxy in Parliament, who authored the original Supraśl petition. Sourozh, no. 53, August 1993, p. 43. 26 See ‘Protest against Turning Carmelite Church into Orthodox Church’, in Polish Press Agency Release of 25 February 1991, and ‘Pope Assigns Przemysl Church to Eastern Rite for Five Years’, Polish News Bulletin of 8 April 1991. 27 ‘Conflict between Orthodox and Uniat Church Not Solved’, Polish Press Agency Release of 15 May 1991. 28 As presented to the Polish government by Ukrainian Ambassador Piotr Sardachuk in April. Polish Press Agency Release of 12 April 1995. 29 Quoted in SOP, 216, March 1997, pp. 6–8. For the background to this dispute, see Sourozh, no. 68, May 1997, pp. 38–9. 30 Jonathan Luxmoore, ‘Poland: Orthodox Cite Discrimination Ovre Church Building’, Keston News Service, 17 November 2000. 31 Details of the cemetery vandalism were reported in Keston News Service, no. 344, 22 February 1990, while the arson attacks were covered in no. 355, 26 July 1990. The Grabarka loss received international attention, including reports by the Associated Press (Reported on 18 July 1990 under the headline ‘Man Arrested in Shrine Arson’) and The Tablet of 21 July and 11 August 1990. Belief that ultra-nationalist Catholic sources were behind these attacks were voiced by, among others, Bishop Abel of the newly constituted Orthodox diocese of Lublin-Chelm in an interview published in Zeszyty Historyczne (Paris), no. 100, 1992, p. 37. 32 Jonathan Luxmoore, ‘Unholy Trade in Holy Art’, The Tablet, 21 May 1994. 33 Text in Eastern Churches Journal, 1993/4, 1 (1), p. 108. 34 Anna Sabbat-Swidlicka, ‘Bishops Call for the Return of Religious Instruction in Schools’, RFE-REE, 1 (23), 8 June 1990, pp. 35–7. 35 Keston News Service, 31 May 1990. 36 Ibid., 12 July 1990. 37 The Tablet, 14 July 1990. 38 Keston News Service, 9 August 1990. 39 Ibid., 30 August 1990. 40 The Tablet, 9 February 1991.

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41 Foreign Broadcast Information Services Dailty Report [Eastern Europe], 15 November 1990. See also Keston News Service, 24 January 1991. 42 The Tablet, 9 February 1991. 43 Commenting on the final version, The Tablet (9 February 1991, p. 174) observed that the constitutional tribunal’s ruling ‘gave legal validity to what is now a standard part of Polish school life’. 44 Keston News Service, 7 March 1991. 45 ‘Texts of Prayers before and after Lessons Agreed’, Polish Press Agency Release of 13 April 1992. 46 See the article ‘Ombudsman Under Fire for being Anti-Catholic’, The Tablet, 5 June 1993. 47 Dziennik Ustaw Rzeczypospolitej Polski 1991, no. 66, Law 312. 48 The best narrative, complete with documentation, of the prolonged struggle to enact a Concordat acceptable to all parties can be found on the website ‘Concordat Watch: Poland’ (www.concordatwatch.eu) (accessed 8 March 2012). 49 Quoted in The Tablet, 4 September 1993. 50 For examples of the Church’s rhetoric, see ‘Polish Bishops Put Down Some Markers’, The Tablet, 12 November 1994. 51 Jonathan Luxmoore, ‘Eastern Europe 1995: A Review of Religious Life in Bulgaria, Romania, Hungary, Slovakia, the Czech Republic, and Poland’, Religion, State and Society, 1996, 24 (4), p. 360. 52 Both meetings are covered in Polish News Bulletins of 16 and 17 April 1996. 53 SOP, 148, May 1990. 54 Reported in The Tablet, 12 January 1991. 55 The Warsaw Voice, 22 September 1991. 56 Polish Press Agency Release of 14 July 1992. 57 Gazeta Wyborcza, 17 June 1993. 58 Polish Press Agency Release of 5 November 1995. 59 Quoted in Jonathan Luxmoore, ‘Orthodox Witness Growing in Numbers’, Orthodox Observer, March 1996, p. 23. 60 SOP, 204, January 1996. 61 SOP, 206, March 1996. 62 Quoted in SOP, 220, July–August 1997. 63 Polish News Bulletin of 17 July 1997. 64 ‘Bishop Jeremiasz of Wroclaw and Szczecin: An Interview’, Sourozh, no. 67, February 1997, p. 35. 65 Quoted in the BBC Summary of World Broadcasts, 13 September 1997. 66 Polish Press Agency Release of 3 September 1997. 67 Polish Press Agency Release of 21 April 1993. 68 Figures from Polish Press Agency Release of 21 October 1998. The church is near Poland’s Okecie International Airport. 69 Details in Sourozh, no. 45, August 1991, p. 47, citing a source in The Orthodox Church, 26 (11), November 1990. The German publication Orthodoxes Forum, 1992, 6 (1), p. 157, listed 20 parishes and 25 ‘mission centres’ with 30 priests to serve the Portuguese faithful. 70 The order was ‘The Great Cross of the Infante D. Henrique’, Polish Press Agency Release of 24 June 1993. 71 Reported in Sobornost’, 1996, 18, pp. 70–3. 72 Bazli’s statement is in Luxmoore, ‘Orthodox Witness Growing in Numbers’. The Speaker, Stanislav Suskievich, also complained about similar activities of Polish Catholic missionaries, claiming that in both cases they were attempting to play roles in Belorussian political as well as spiritual life. The Tablet, 18 July 1992. 73 ‘Visit of the Primate of the Polish Orthodox Church’. The full report, with numerous quotations from both Sawa and Aleksii, are in the ‘Church News’ section of

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the Russian Orthodox Church website (www.russian-orthodox-church.org.ru/ ne081283.htm). Aleksii praised the Church’s ‘firm opposition to the forces of evil which try to wipe out the Orthodox faith in the Polish land’. Polish News Agency Release of 24 January 2000. Polish News Agency Release of 25 January 2000. More extensive quotations from the Patriarch are in SOP, 246, March 2000. ‘Niektore Wyznania Religijne w Polsce w 2000 roku’, Table 23 (85), in Maly Rocznik Statystyczny 2002 [Small Statistical Yearbook 2002], Warsaw: Glowny Urzad Statystyczny, 2002. Typically, there were no doubt more adherents of all faiths that attended services sporadically, and never appeared formally registered on church rolls. Moreover, unofficial figures vary widely, estimating anything from 600,000 to 1,000,000 Orthodox believers in the country. ‘Ludnosc Polski Wedlug Deklarowanej Narodowosci i Jezyka’, in Raport z wynikow Narodowego Spisu Powszehnego Ludnosci i Mieszkan’ 2002 (www.stat.gov. pl.spis/spis_lud/stru_sp.htm) (accessed 8 March 2012). Data from the official Polish Orthodox Church website www.orthodox.pl (accessed 8 March 2012). See: https://www.cia.gov/library/publications/the-world-factbook/geos/pl.html (accessed 7 March 2014).

11 The Orthodox Autocephalous Church of Albania Nicholas Pano

None of the Orthodox churches of Eastern Europe faced as formidable a challenge in recovering from the legacy of the communist era as did the Orthodox Autocephalous Church of Albania (OACA) (Kisha Ortodokse Autoqefale e Shqipërisë). At the time of the demise of the Albanian communist regime, the OACA had not functioned as an institution for almost a quartercentury.1 This chapter examines the revival of the Church after 1990 and its role in post-communist Albania.

Albanian Orthodoxy during the Cold War As a consequence of the Albanian Ideological and Cultural Revolution (1966– 9), the practice of religion had been outlawed in Albania and the country was officially proclaimed an ‘atheist state’. All Orthodox churches, monasteries, schools and other buildings were destroyed, converted to other uses or allowed to deteriorate. The state confiscated the Church’s landholdings and other properties. And most of the Church’s liturgical supplies, such as vestments, chalices, crucifixes, altar furnishings, baptismal fonts as well as service books, hymnals, and religious literature, along with icons, had been destroyed, lost, stolen or declared ‘national treasures’. By 1991 all the Church’s hierarchs had died. Thus, the OACA’s Holy Synod, a prerequisite for a canonical Orthodox Church, no longer existed and there were at this time no ethnic Albanian bishops in either the Albanian Orthodox Diocese of America (under the jurisdiction of the Ecumenical Patriarchate) or the Albanian Archdiocese of the Orthodox Church in America (AAOCA). And since there had been no ordinations of clergy between 1967 and 1991, there were only fifteen Orthodox priests and three deacons alive as Albania entered the post-communist era, and they were all elderly and infirm. Furthermore, from the late 1950s, the Church’s contacts with its Orthodox counterparts within and outside Europe were virtually non-existent owing to the Albanian regime’s strained relations with the Soviet Union and its Eastern European allies as well as with most Western European countries and the United States. Thus, given the state of the OACA in 1991 it was apparent that

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the Church would literally have to be constructed from ground up and that this process would be long and arduous. One of the initial manifestations of a possible easing of the stance of the Albanian regime in respect to the OACA and other Albanian religious bodies was the granting of permission to the Very Reverend Arthur Liolin, the Chancellor of the AAOCA, to visit the country during July and August 1988. He was allowed on this occasion to wear his street clerical garb during his stay in the country and to pray publicly at seven cemeteries. Fr Liolin was invited by the Albanian government to make a second visit in November and December of 1989.2 As economic conditions began to deteriorate in Albania during the late 1980s and as the country’s leadership began to monitor developments in the Eastern European communist party states, the Albanian leadership in early 1990 announced the inauguration of a reform programme that, within the Albanian context, represented a marked departure from its longstanding hard-line Stalinist policies. In respect to religious issues, the new policy: recognised the right of individuals to hold religious beliefs without state interference; permitted citizens to practise religion in the privacy of their homes; lifted the ban on and penalties for the possession of religious literature; and accorded people the right to form religious organisations and institutions. These measures caught most Albanians by surprise and it was not until the end of 1990 that the Orthodox faithful began to hold services in several locations in southern Albania.3 At about this time a group of Orthodox laypersons and clerics had formed a preparatory commission to deal with issues relating to revival of the Orthodox Church in Albania. This group had quickly concluded that the problems confronting the restoration of the Church were of such a magnitude that this challenge could not be overcome without external assistance. It turned to the Patriarchate of Constantinople, which had become aware of the Albanian situation both from contacts with the Orthodox community within Albania and through its ties with the Albanian Orthodox Diocese of America.4 In January 1991, the Ecumenical Patriarch and the Holy Synod selected Archbishop Anastasios Janullatos, then a professor at the National University of Athens and the executive director of the Apostolic Services (the publications and missionary agency of the Orthodox Church of Greece), as his patriarchal exarch to Albania. The Archbishop, who had missionary experience in Africa and was active in the affairs of the World Council of Churches and other international religious organisations, appeared to be well qualified to make a needs assessment and develop an action plan for the revival of the OACA. When objections, based mainly on his nationality, arose to the Archbishop’s appointment, the Albanian government withheld his visa until questions surrounding his mission were resolved at a meeting in Corfu between the Greek and Albanian foreign ministers in July 1991. The visa request was now expedited and Archbishop Janullatos arrived in Albania in his capacity of patriarchal exarch on 16 July 1991.5 Shortly after his arrival, the Archbishop

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convened in early August a meeting of Orthodox clergy and laypersons to establish a temporary church organisational structure. By May 1992, as Janullatos was preparing to leave Albania, he was urged by a number of the Orthodox faithful to remain in the country to lead in the effort to restore the Church, especially since there was no available Albanian hierarch to take on this responsibility. This request was formally conveyed to Patriarch Bartholomew in early June 1992 by an Albanian delegation dispatched to the Ecumenical Patriarchate. On 24 June 1992, the Patriarch and Holy Synod formally elected Archbishop Janullatos as Archbishop of Tiranë, Durrës and All Albania and they also elected three Greek clergy as members of a new Albanian Holy Synod. These appointments produced a considerable negative reaction in Albania on the part of some of the Orthodox population and even more from the non-Orthodox majority, who feared that under the leadership of a Greek hierarchy, the OACA would be used to further Greek interests rather than those of the Albanian church and state. It was against this background that the enthronement ceremony of Archbishop Janullatos took place in Tiranë on 2 August 1992. According to contemporary press and many eye-witness accounts, the ceremony was interrupted and completed in a Tiranë hotel.6 The supporters of the Archbishop maintain that the ceremony was completed within the Annunciation Cathedral as planned. The significance of this episode, however, is that it illustrates the fact that the Archbishop had become a divisive figure within Albania as he began his ministry there. The differences of opinion regarding Janullatos were also reflected in the Albanian Orthodox community in the United States. The AAOCA, which comprised about 85 per cent of the Albanian-American Orthodox faithful, strongly opposed the enthronement of Archbishop Janullatos on grounds that he did not meet the criteria of either Albanian birth or citizenship to hold the position. They also shared the concerns that the Archbishop would use his position to further Greek interests and weaken the legacy of Bishop Fan S. Noli, who had laid the foundation for the OACA when he had established the Albanian Orthodox Church in America in 1908 (later AAOCA).7 The Albanian Orthodox Diocese of America, which was under the jurisdiction of the Patriarchate of Constantinople, strongly supported the mission of Archbishop Janullatos in Albania and provided human and material resource assistance in the replanting of Orthodoxy in Albania. Bishop Ilia Katre, who was elevated to the episcopate in 2002, made an especially significant contribution to the education and formation of the first post-communist generation of the Albanian clergy while serving as Dean of the ‘Resurrection of Christ’ Theological Academy, St Vlash Monastery in Durrës.8

Political and ecclesiastical challenges The role and mission of Archbishop Janullatos has been an issue in Albanian politics since his arrival in the country. Following the deportation in 1993 of

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a Greek Orthodox clergyman for distributing maps that sought to promote Greek territorial claims to southern Albania and the subsequent deterioration in Greek–Albanian relations, there were calls for the expulsion from Albania of Janullatos. He was able to survive the crisis, but was confronted in 1994 with an even more serious challenge to his mission. The Archbishop’s opponents had succeeded in inserting a provision into the 1994 draft Constitution that would have required the heads of the major religious communities in the country to be native-born Albanians who had resided in the country for twenty years. This provision would have forced Janullatos to leave Albania, had this Constitution been adopted. But it was defeated and the Archbishop was given the opportunity to continue his mission.9 A threat of a different nature emerged in October 1995 when Fr Nikolla Marku and a group of the parishioners of St Mary’s Church in Elbasan renounced their allegiance to Archbishop Janullatos on the grounds that he lacked the qualifications to serve as primate of the OACA, despite the fact that a national church conference in January 1993 had repealed the provision of a 1950 statute mandating that the head of the Albanian Orthodox Church be an Albanian citizen.10 The polemics between Fr Marku, who enjoys very limited support within Albania, and the Archbishop have continued without interruption since the mid-1990s. The Archbishop’s critics continue to attack him for his willingness to bless the cemeteries which hold the remains of Greek soldiers who died in Albania during the Second World War and championing the rights of the ethnic Greek minority in southern Albania. Although many of Janullatos’s detractors have given up their efforts to have him deported, they continue to oppose his being granted Albanian citizenship and there have even been demands that the government rescind his Order of Skenderbeg award presented in 2010. During the two decades the Archbishop has been active in Albania, he has been subjected to periodic death threats and been the object of what might be best characterised as inflammatory rhetoric in the press.11 At the same time he has managed to win over some of his earliest critics, such as the Albanian Orthodox Archdiocese. Since 2001, there has been a marked improvement in the relationship between the US-based Albanian Archdiocese (AAOCA) and the OACA. This rapprochement has also seen a reduction in the tensions between the two branches of Albanian Orthodoxy in the United States.12 This development was reflected in the invitation extended in March 2008 by the Albanian Archdiocese (AAOCA) to the Albanian Orthodox Diocese of America along with the OACA to participate in the commemoration at Boston’s St. George Albanian Orthodox Cathedral of the centenary of the first Divine Liturgy conducted in the Albanian language by Bishop Fan Noli, founder of the Albanian Orthodox Church in America.13 In June 2012, Bishop Nikon of the Albanian Archdiocese was invited to participate in the consecration of the new ‘Resurrection of Christ’ Orthodox Cathedral in Tiranë,14 another indication of the friendly ties among the three Albanian Orthodox jurisdictions.

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Given his missionary experiences as well as those arising from his service in interfaith and international Christian organisations, the Archbishop has had little difficulty in helping to revive and preserve the tradition of interfaith harmony in Albania, where the current Orthodox share of the country’s population has been variously estimated to range between 6.75 and 24 per cent.15 There are no major issues dividing or producing tensions in interfaith relations within Albania. Janullatos’s most serious problems in this area will continue to come from those individuals and groups that question his loyalty to Albania. In this connection, recently formed political parties, such as the Party for Justice, Integration and Unity (Partia Drejtesi, Integrim, dhe Unitet) and the Red and Black Alliance (Aleanca Kuq e Zi) with their nationalist agendas could create further difficulties for the Archbishop.

The ‘resurrection’ of the Autocephalous Orthodox Church, 1992–2012 June 2012 marked the twentieth anniversary of the post-communist era Autocephalous Orthodox Church of Albania. To those who have had the opportunity to monitor the changes that have occurred in all aspects of the life of the Church during the past two decades, both the rate of progress and the results are impressive – especially when one takes into consideration the conditions that prevailed in 1991 and the additional challenges which Archbishop Janullatos and his associates had to overcome in rebuilding the material resources and administrative structure of the Church and to develop programmes in such areas as education, health and social services to complement its religious mission. The initial priority of the Archbishop was to recruit a cadre of missionaries from abroad to assist in programme planning and to begin the process of recruiting Albanian volunteers and coordinating their activities. Several of these early missionaries such as Jim Forest, Lynette Hoppe and Fr Luke Veronis have provided valuable published accounts of their activities in Albania.16 Another high priority was the establishment of the ‘Resurrection of Christ’ Theological Academy to train the Albanian clergy necessary to minister to the spiritual needs of the Orthodox faithful and to staff the growing number of churches that were under construction or repair. The Academy also trains catechists for service in churches, schools and other institutions. There were 149 active Orthodox priests in Albania in 2012 and virtually all of these were Albanian citizens.17 During the past two decades some 150 new churches have been constructed, another 60 churches, monasteries and religious/cultural monuments have been restored and 160 churches repaired. Additionally, seventy buildings have either been built, remodelled or acquired by the Church to serve as schools, youth centres, health clinics and even soup kitchens. These various building, construction and acquisition programmes reflect the expanding role of the Church in Albanian life.

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Archbishop Janullatos has during the past two decades devoted much time and energy to regularising the status of the Church and establishing its administrative structure. Owing to the opposition of the Albanian government to the establishment of a Holy Synod dominated by Greek hierarchs, the Church was not able to formally reconstitute this body until 1998. With the most recent additions to the Synod in January 2012, it now consists of the Archbishop, the Metropolitans of Berat, Korce and Gjirokaster, four bishops and a General Secretary. The legal status of the Church has been defined in a series of laws and decrees culminating in the 22 January 2009 agreement currently in force. The Church has taken advantage of post-communist legislation to establish a significant presence in the area of education. Aside from the Theological Academy, the Church sponsors one university which emphasises career education programmes, three high schools, two vocational schools, three elementary schools, seventeen kindergartens and one orphanage. There is a strong religious component in the curriculum of the schools and two of the high schools have a subsidiary role as preparatory schools for the Theological Academy. The Church established in 1992 one of the major medical institutions in Albania, the ‘Annunciation’ Medical Centre of Tiranë, along with an ophthalmological and otolaryngological clinic, also in Tiranë. The ‘Annunciation’ Centre is noted for the quality of its staff and equipment and sees over 70,000 patients per year. The Church also supports several clinics in smaller cities and towns and a travelling dental clinic which focuses on paediatric dentistry. As part of its educational and catechetical missions, the Church maintains a publishing house (Ngjallja) which produces a variety of publications designed to appeal to a broad audience ranging from children to well-educated adults. There is also a Church FM radio station known as Ngjallja which broadcasts a variety of music and public information programmes. In a break with the past, Archbishop Janullatos has encouraged the postcommunist church to become more actively involved in the work of international religious organisations. The OACA holds membership in the World Council of Churches, the Conference of European Churches and the World Conference of Religions for Peace. The Church also participates in many international Orthodox activities.

Conclusion The OACA through its comprehensive programme of activities seeks to touch many aspects of the lives of its communicants to underscore the relevance of the Church beyond the realm of religion. It appears to be enjoying a degree of success in this respect, but it is unclear whether this trend will continue as secular influences continue to make headway in Albania. Irrespective of what the future holds for Albanian Orthodoxy, it is apparent that the OACA has made a spectacular recovery from the severe injuries it suffered during the Communist era. Much of the credit for this success is attributable to the

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leadership of Archbishop Janullatos, who provided the inspiration, supervised the planning, recruited the talent and raised the funds that has made the recovery possible.

Appendix 1

Religious leaders

•

Anastasios (Janullatos) (1929–), in office 1992–.

2

Biography 18

Title: Archbishop of Tiranë and Durrës and All Albania. Anastasios (Janullatos) was born in Piraeus, Greece on 4 November 1929. After earning a BD from the University of Athens in 1951, he pursued graduate work in religious studies, missiology, and African studies in both Germany and Uganda. Janullatos received his ThD from the University of Athens in 1970. He was ordained a priest in 1964 and was consecrated a bishop in 1972. By this time Janullatos had distinguished himself as a consequence of his activities in behalf of Greek and pan-Orthodox youth and missionary programme in both Greece and in Africa. From 1981 to 1991, he was Acting Archbishop of Irinoupolis (Kenya, Uganda, and Tanzania), while also serving as Professor of Religious History at the University of Athens. A prolific scholar, the Archbishop has authored 18 books as well as over 200 articles and essays during the course of his ecclesiastical and academic career, while at the same time holding leadership roles in international organisations such as the World Council of Churches. He served as Patriarchal Exarch to Albania from August 1991 to June 1992 and has been in his present position since June 1992. Archbishop Janullatos is generally regarded as the inspiration for and architect of the post-communist era revival of the Autocephalous Orthodox Church of Albania. 3

Church publications

• • •

Ngjallja [Resurrection] – monthly church newspaper News from Orthodoxy in Albania – English-language news bulletin Kerkim [Research] – magazine featuring spiritual, cultural and social themes.

4

Congregations19

Structure of the Church: One archdiocese metropolitanates (Berat, Gjirokaster, Korce).

(Tiranë-Durrës),

Number of clergy and church buildings: 149 priests, 370 churches.20

three

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According to the April 2011 Albanian census, whose final results were issued in December 2012,21 the country’s population was 2,821,977, an 8 per cent decline from 2001. The bulk of the decline was attributable to the large emigration of Albanians, especially to Greece and Italy, along with a falling birth rate. Data on the country’s religious composition indicated that 56.7 per cent of the population had declared themselves Muslim, 10.5 per cent Roman Catholic, 6.75 per cent Eastern Orthodox and 2.09 per cent Bektashi Muslim. Another 2.5 per cent are atheists and 5.53 per cent are non-denominational believers. Spokespersons for the Orthodox community immediately challenged these figures by pointing out that the decline in the Orthodox share of the population was greater than that for Albania itself.22 They also observed that, although the Catholic proportion of the population remained in the vicinity of 10 per cent as it had in the pre-Second World War and the Second World War era censuses, that for the Orthodox population had declined from 20 per cent to 6.75 per cent. Archbishop Janullatos further reported that a review of Orthodox baptismal records suggested that Albanians of Orthodox heritage accounted for more than 24 per cent of the country’s population. Although the Archbishop’s claims appear to be exaggerated, it does seem likely that the Albanian Orthodox population was undercounted in a census in which 14 per cent of the population did not respond to a question asking them to indicate their religious affiliation.

Notes 1 For a summary of these developments, see Jim Forest, The Resurrection of the Church in Albania: Voices of Orthodox Christians, Geneva: WCC Publications, 2002, pp. 24–7. For a more detailed account, see Nicholas Pano, ‘The Albanian Orthodox Church’, in Lucian N. Leustean (ed.), Eastern Christianity and the Cold War, 1945–91, Abingdon: Routledge, 2010, pp. 145–55. 2 Edwin E. Jacques, The Albanians: An Ethnic History from Prehistoric Times to the Present, Jefferson, NC: McFarland Publishers, 1995, pp. 613–14. 3 Ibid., pp. 651, 662; Nicholas Pano, ‘Toward a New Albania: Evolution or Revolution’, Albanian Catholic Bulletin, 1990, 2, 59–63. 4 Kastriot Dervishi, Historia e shletit shqiptar: 1912–2005 [History of the Albanian State: 1912–2005], Tiranë: Shtepia Botues, 2006, pp. 833–4. 5 Elez Biberaj, Albania in Transition, Boulder, CO: Westview Press, 1998, pp. 208–9. 6 See, inter alia, ‘Gabim historik i Kishes Ortodokse Shqiptare’ [The Historic Mistake of the Albanian Orthodox Church], Rilindja Demokratike, 4 August 1992; ‘Incidenti i fronezimi te Kryepshkopit te Kishes Autoqefale Shqiptare’ [The Incident Concerning the Enthronement of the Archbishop of the Autocephalous Albanian Church], Republika (Tiranë), 6 August 1992. 7 The Albanian Orthodox Archdiocese in America, News Release (Boston), 3 August 1992. 8 Lynette Hoppe, Resurrection: The Orthodox Autocephalous Church of Albania, 1991–2003, Tiranë: Ngjallja Publishers, 2004, p. 118. 9 Nicholas Pano, ‘The Process of Democratization in Albania’, in Karen Dawisha and Bruce Parrott (eds), Politics, Power, and the Struggle for Democracy in SouthEast Europe, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1997, pp. 327–8.

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10 Dervishi, Historia e shletit shqiptar, pp. 834–5. 11 ‘Shqiptaret duan te vrasin kryepeshkopin grek te Shqiperise’ [The Albanians Want to Kill the Greek Archbishop of Albania], Shekulli (Tiranë), 4 January 2013. Janullatos’s critics, however, maintain that the Archbishop has encouraged some of the negative reaction he has inspired by advocacy in behalf of Greek minority interests in Albania. ‘Janullatos ne Shqiperi per interest e Greqise’ [Janullatos is in Albania to Advance Greek Interests], http://www.balkanweb.com/gazefav5/newsadmin/preview.php?id=127826 (accessed 31 January 2013). 12 Luke Veronis, Go Forth: Stories of Mission and Resurrection in Albania, Chesterton, IN: Conciliar Press, 2009, pp. 183–4. 13 Orthodox Church in America, ‘Albanian Orthodox celebrate Centennial Year in Boston’, http://oca.org/news/archived/a-Albanian-orthodox-celebrate-centennialyear-in-boston (accessed 1 September 2012). 14 Orthodox Outreach Blog, ‘Albanian Orthodox Cathedral Consecrated’, 25 June 2012, http://orthodoxoutreach.net/blog (accessed 26 August 2012). 15 See note 22 below. 16 For the citations of these works see notes 1, 8 and 12. 17 The figures cited in this section are derived from Ngjallja, November 2012, pp. 6–7. 18 Forest, The Resurrection of the Church in Albania, pp. 99–126; http://wwa.orthodoxalbania.org/index.php?option=com_content&view=articles&id=7 (accessed 17 December 2012). 19 S e e : h t t p : / / w wa . o r t h o d ox a l b a n i a . o rg / n ew / i n d ex . p h p ? o p t i o n = c o m _ content&view=sectionlayou (accessed 13 March 2013). 20 Ngjallja, November 2012, pp. 6–7. 21 Shqiperi/Albania, Censusi i popullsise dhe banesave/Population and Housing Census: 2011, Tiranë: INSTAT, 2012, p. 71. 22 See: http://shekulli.com.al/web/p.php?id=1147&kaf=88 (accessed 12 March 2013).

12 The Orthodox Church in the Czech Lands and Slovakia Tomáš Havlíček

The European secularisation of the public and the private sphere has been a unique phenomenon, only sporadically evident in other parts of the world.1 After 1989, two secularisation models emerged on the continent. The first, typical for Western Europe and in which Orthodox churches represent a minority confession, have shown that religion has been losing its influence in the public sphere. In contrast, on the Eastern side of the continent, as a general trend, Orthodox churches have received strong political, moral and religious acclaim after the fall of the communist regimes.2 However, the increase in the significance of Orthodoxy in Eastern Europe does not apply to the general conditions in the Czech Republic (Czechia)3 and, to a lesser degree, Slovakia. This chapter maps recent events and trends, subsequent to the end of the Cold War, as well as possible future developments concerning the Orthodox Church in these regions.4

The Church after the fall of the communist regime After the fall of communism in 1989, the Orthodox Church in Czechoslovakia had to come to terms with its communist history, which had left an unmistakable mark on its organisation.5 The Church was relatively quick to involve itself in the transformation of the country. By the end of November 1989, it was already supporting several of the platform principles of future president Václav Havel’s Civic Forum (Občanské fórum), as a means of joining in efforts to heal Czech and Slovak society. The Church expressed remorse and repented for several of its earlier positions in the communist period. For instance, in 1991, the clergy of the Prague eparchy (as the only one of the country’s four eparchies to do so), accepted the following proclamation under the direction of Metropolitan Dorotej: We will try to rectify our imperfections and our sins by focusing on affirming faith, hope and charity among one another and among all people. Only after this repentance have we found more courage to begin new work for the moral, cultural and social enrichment of our society. Only after being cleansed ourselves, are we able to go and lead other people

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toward the kingdom of God. Repentance is a most powerful sacrament, a sacrament and a secret, which closes the doors on our mistakes and shortcomings and opens the way to a pure, holy life on earth. May God the Father, the Son and Holy Ghost assist us to this end.6 In 1993, the dissolution of Czechoslovakia and the creation of two new independent states, the Czech and Slovak Republics, brought fundamental changes to the Church’s organisational structure. The Orthodox Church reacted to this new situation with an assembly resolution, on December 1992, that made changes to the title of the Church. Representatives of the former Czechoslovak Orthodox Church feared losing the Church’s autocephaly and thus its independence with the growing influence of the Russian Orthodox Church in Czechia. The Orthodox Church of the Czech Lands and Slovakia was divided into two economically independent units: ‘The Orthodox Church in the Czech Lands’ and ‘The Orthodox Church in Slovakia’. The joint body of the Church became ‘The Assembly of the Orthodox Church of the Czech Lands and Slovakia’, which meets once every six years. In addition to introducing a new way of referring to its official title the Assembly also substantially amended the Church’s constitution. The political process of dividing Czechoslovakia into the independent states of Czechia and Slovakia, in 1993, also affected the operations of the Orthodox Church. Even though, in terms of church law, it remains one religious entity (i.e. the autocephaly of the Church remains the same), the Orthodox Church of the Czech Lands and Slovakia has been developing autonomously in the two countries, in accordance with the respective legal regulations. The process of renewing the Church is, therefore, different in each of the two states. In 1998 there was a new declaration of autocephaly of Orthodox Church of the Czech Lands and Slovakia to the Constantinople Patriarchate. This entailed a partial diversion of the Russian Orthodox Church and a greater connection to Constantinople. The renewal of the Church has taken place differently in both countries. Several parishes have succeeded in revamping themselves, while others have merged. In Czechia, after 1989, previously discontinued parishes were reestablished and new parishes were organised, mainly in places that began to receive large numbers of foreign workers, primarily from Orthodox countries (including Ukraine, Russia, Moldova, Belarus, Bulgaria and Serbia). Developments in Slovakia were rather different. With the complete renewal of operations of the Uniate (Greek Catholic) Church, after 1989, and the return of its property, the local Orthodox Church was left without churches and parish buildings. The Slovak government provided some compensation, wherein the Orthodox received funding for the construction of new church and parish buildings and more than seventy new Orthodox Church buildings have been constructed since the end of the communist regime. At present, new parishes are beginning to be established in western and central Slovakia, i.e. in

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industrial areas, to which Orthodox adherents are moving, from the impoverished regions of eastern Slovakia, in search of work. According to church-maintained, internal sources, based primarily on baptism and burial records, the number of Orthodox adherents has more than doubled over the past ten years. The fact that, according to preliminary published results of the 2011 population census, there was a decline of roughly 3,000 members, as compared with 2001 data, probably as a result of the voluntary nature of the census survey data.7 Adherents of the Orthodox Church generally view democratic changes in a positive light. Like other citizens of Czechia and Slovakia, they expect that these changes will not be merely partial in nature, but that the process of democratisation will be fully completed. In addition to services, the Church should focus on missionary, educational and social services.8 As the Orthodox Church retains a small number of faithful, its influence on political dispute in these countries is very limited. The primary religious and political events of the Church depend largely on the nature of leadership at the various individual parishes. A portion of the clergy and the adherents of the Orthodox Church exhibit strong tendencies towards pan-Slavism and the associated radical wing of Orthodoxy (presented by Imperial Russia). Otherwise, the Church is focused primarily on relations with the nearest autocephalous churches within the EU and neighbouring countries (the Greek, Polish, Serbian, Romanian and Bulgarian Orthodox churches). The Prague and Olomouc-Brno eparchies regularly hold commemorative events at the national memorial to the Heydrich heroes in Prague and in Rožnov pod Radhoštěm (a preserved historical village), both of which commemorate heroes of Western resistance under the leadership of the London government in exile during the Second World War. These ceremonies hold a particular significance for the Orthodox faithful, as in 1942, the Church granted refuge to the conspirators assassinating Reinhard Heydrich, Reich Protector for the Protectorate of Bohemia and Moravia. Regarding religious events, the most important are the Easter celebrations, traditionally enjoying the largest number of participants. Next in importance are church pilgrimages to Říp (a legendary mountain in Bohemia) and to Svatý Jan pod Skalou near Beroun and Mikulčice – places with archaeological findings from the period of Greater Moravia. The Orthodox Church in Czechia does not have a developed, unified concept regarding religious instruction in schools. This is different from the Church in Slovakia, where religion is taught in many primary and secondary schools. Moreover, in Slovakia, the Orthodox Church has established a number of preschools and elementary schools and, at least, two specialised trade schools. In Slovakia, the Orthodox Theological Faculty is located in Prešov,9 while in Czechia the office of this faculty sits in Olomouc. An education and training centre is also located at the Orthodox Academy in Vilémov, near Olomouc in Middle Moravia.

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Many parishes are involved in teaching children and youth through Sunday school, sponsored lectures, summer camps, outings and other activities. Since 1989, there has also been a dynamic increase in theological publications, in the form of both books and periodicals.10 Apart from a few individuals and the Prague eparchy, the Orthodox Church in Czechia and Slovakia has not addressed, in any official way, the issue of communist collaborators retaining positions within the Church. After being banned in 1942, the Orthodox Church in Czechoslovakia lost its property. After the Second World War, the state gave the Church a number of properties as a form of compensation for the damage incurred. The majority of the churches and other properties that belonged to the Church were returned after 1989. The actual restitution of church property is only one of a series of questions, which comprise the formal separation of church and state. At present, the state contributes to the salaries of clergy. As compensation for destroyed or seized properties, the state has decided to pay the Orthodox Church a contribution of approximately 1.15 billion CZK,11 thereby completing the separation of church from state.12 These contributions are to be gradually reduced from 2013 for a period of seventeen years up to 2030. This issue is not yet resolved in Slovakia and the Church continues to receive contributions for clergy salaries. The Orthodox Church in the Czech Lands is an active participant in the ecumenical movement and a founding member of the Ecumenical Council of Churches in Czechia and in Slovakia. In addition, it cooperates with other Christian churches in providing spiritual services in the Army, prisons and hospitals. The Orthodox Church is also an active member of the Conference of European Churches and the World Council of Churches. Relations with the local Roman Catholic Church are positive, as exemplified by their recent joint celebrations of the 1,150th anniversary of the arrival of Sts Cyril and Methodius in Greater Moravia. Relations with the Greek Catholic churches are minimal, cold and sporadic, while those with other autocephalous Orthodox churches are very warm and extensive. In particular, the Orthodox Church in the Czech Lands and Slovakia enjoys good relations with the Patriarchate of Constantinople, from which it received autocephaly in 1998. Its relationship to the Moscow Patriarchate is also extensive, not only because it is the largest Orthodox autocephalous Slavonic Church but also because of the dissolution of Serbian jurisdiction in 1946 (for political reasons) and then its subjection to Russian jurisdiction. The Orthodox Church in the Czech Lands and Slovakia considers political developments in the European Union to be too liberal and its political scene leftist or socialist. According to Orthodox hierarchs, the failure of the European Union to include a reference to its ‘Judeo-Christian heritage’ could not be easily overcome; neither joint currency nor – perhaps later – a president, government or a common army would be able to make up for this omission of a fundamental statement on Europe’s religious heritage.13

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Structural developments The Church is represented by two eparchies: Prague and Olomouc-Brno. Metropolitan Kryštof (Radim Pulec) stands at the head of the Prague eparchy and, at the same time, oversees the entire Orthodox Church in the Czech Lands and Slovakia. Archbishop Simeon (Radivoj Jakovlevič) leads the OlomoucBrno eparchy. The Prague eparchy is divided into six protopresbyteries. The protopresbytery for Prague and the Central Bohemian Region includes seven parishes, four of which are located in Prague. The West Bohemian Protopresbytery, with its fourteen parishes and seven subsidiary branches, is the largest and is served by eleven clergy and one deacon. The Žatec Protopresbytery is also quite large, with twelve parishes and five subsidiary branches. The East Bohemian Protopresbytery is made up of six parishes and three smaller branches. The Teplice Protopresbytery serves five parishes with three clergy. The final and smallest protopresbytery in the Prague eparchy in South Bohemian, which includes three parishes and two subsidiary branches. The Prague Eparchy also oversees spiritual representation for the Russian Orthodox Church in Czechia with the Church of Sts Peter and Paul in Karlovy Vary. In addition, four monasteries are in operation within the eparchy; two for women and two for men. There is also an active educational centre (Orthodoxia) at the Sts Cyril and Methodius Cathedral in Prague which sponsors a variety of lectures and exhibitions. The Olomouc-Brno eparchy is home to three monasteries, two for women and one for men. The Gorazd Cyrillic-Methodian Centre of Spiritual Meeting in Vilémov falls under this eparchy, as does the similarly orientated Orthodox Academy in Vilémov. The Orthodox Theological Faculty of the University of Prešov (Slovakia), with its headquarters in Olomouc, serves all of Czechia as a training ground for future clergy and catechists.14 Further analysis of the regional distribution of the Orthodox Church in Czechia, at the municipal level reveals substantial differences. The immigration of the Volyn Czechs to the depopulated Sudeten Mountains has been apparent in the 1960s, considering the strength of Orthodox numbers. This has resulted in significant centres of Orthodoxy emerging, in order of importance, in the Žatec region and in the northern Tachov and Cheb regions in Bohemia as well as in the eastern Olomouc, Bruntál and Osoblaha regions of Moravia, or, more specifically, in Silesia. Prague is a significant centre for Orthodox believers, with nearly 6,000 believers, making up approximately one quarter of the roughly 23,000 Orthodox in the country.15 In a general sense, two fundamental tendencies describe the development of the Orthodox Church in Czechia. On the one hand, secularisation is on the rise in rural and peripheral Orthodox territories, such as the Žatec or Tachov regions; on the other hand, the portion of Orthodox believers is increasing in large cities (particularly in Prague and Karlovy Vary), as a result of increasing numbers of immigrants from Ukraine and Russia.16 For instance, in the traditionally Orthodox municipality of Lesná, west of Tachov near the border with Bavaria, there was a twofold increase, between

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1991 and 2001, in the number of people professing no religious affiliation, primarily to the detriment of the local Orthodox population. The polarisation of society by generation can also be observed in these peripheral regions. For example, the older generation observes church holidays according to the Julian calendar, while the younger generation either does not celebrate the holidays at all or observes them according to the Gregorian calendar along with the majority of Czech society. Primarily thanks to the anti-religious stance of the communist regime, Christian faith has become mere folklore to the young generation, instead of being a vital part or a necessity of life as it was for the older generation. Young people do not openly express faith and, for the most part, do not understand the need to put faith into action and help those in need. The major portion of these rural Orthodox believers are Volyn Czechs, who have largely come from poverty-stricken conditions in Ukraine and are, therefore, more leftist in their political inclinations. It was not a problem for many of them to be members of the Communist Party and, at the same time, to attend religious services, a combination that was practically unthinkable for the majority of society. The decline of Orthodoxy in small, peripheral municipalities is accompanied by the demise of sacred Orthodox structures. Thanks to investments from Germany – from the descendants of the resettled Germans – for the renewal of sacred Catholic structures, there are places in the borderland region that portray a more Catholic than Orthodox religious landscape, even though the Orthodox constitute the majority of local believers, as in municipalities in Western Czechia.

The Russian Orthodox Church in Czechia The most recent developments of the Orthodox Church in Czechia have been determined by the increasing immigration of Russians and Ukrainians, who exhibit distinctly contrasting forms of integration into the Orthodox Church in Czechia. The Ukrainians are, for the most part, less affluent, have suffered high unemployment in Ukraine and moved to Czechia as labour immigrants. They frequently integrate quite well into the majority Czech society and, in terms of their religious behaviour, have begun to integrate into the existing Orthodox Church in the Czech Lands and in Slovakia. Russian immigrants, on the other hand, display an entirely different disposition. They are primarily wealthy immigrants, who come to Czechia to escape the threat of increasing crime rates in Russia and thanks to the relatively open welcome they receive from Czechs. These Russians, however, tend to form a closed, exclusive community, a behaviour that also expresses itself at the religious level. This process even led to the establishment and registration of a new Orthodox entity, the so-called ‘representation’ of the Russian Orthodox Church in Czechia under the title ‘The Russian Orthodox Church, a Representation of the Moscow Patriarch and All Russia in the Czech Republic’ (Ruská pravoslavná církev, podvorje patriarchy moskevského a celé Rusi v České republice).

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The podvorje, in other words, ‘representation’, operates as the ‘embassy’ of one autocephalous church to another. In much the same way the Orthodox Church in the Czech Lands and Slovakia has a podvorje – ‘representation’ – established in Moscow – Kotelniki.17 In 2005 and 2006, when Nikolaj Lishchenyuk, a member of the Russian church in Karlovy Vary, submitted a request for official registration to the Ministry of Culture of the Czech Republic, he was told that it would not be granted because Orthodox churches are not on the same level as the Roman Catholic Church (according to international law, in which the Vatican is recognised as a state), which is allowed to set up nunciatures, similar to the embassies of foreign countries. Complicated negotiations followed, between the Russian Orthodox Church, the Orthodox Church in Czechia, Czechia’s Ministry of the Interior and Ministry of Culture and the Embassy of the Russian Federation in Prague. In the end, Archbishop Kryštof advised the Ministry of Culture to allow this entity to be registered. Consequently, the Ministry of Culture officially registered the above-mentioned church entity on 26 May 2007. The Representation of the Russian Orthodox Church subsequently took possession of a property estate in Karlovy Vary that had belonged to the Orthodox Church in the Czech Lands. It is not entirely certain how the Representation of the Russian Orthodox Church in Czechia managed to acquire this property, which continues to be subject to investigation. In terms of the canonical law of the Orthodox Church, all Orthodox adherents within the territory of an autocephalous church (in this case the Orthodox Church in the Czech Lands and Slovakia) are members of a said church. In this case, however, the newly established entity has its own approved constitution and answers to the Moscow Patriarch – even for issues regarding membership records and financial management of the Church.18

Conclusion After the fall of communism in 1989, the Orthodox Church in Czechoslovakia had to come to terms with its communist history, which had left an unmistakable mark on the organisation. The Church was relatively quick to involve itself in the transformation of communist Czechoslovakia. In 1993, the dissolution of Czechoslovakia and the creation of two new independent states, the Czech and Slovak Republics, brought fundamental changes to the church’s organisational structure and also the new title of the Orthodox Church in Czech Lands and Slovakia. In terms of numbers, immigrants from Ukraine are the largest group of foreigners in Czechia, while immigrants from Russia represent the fourth largest group. For both Ukrainians and Russians there is a long-term trend of continued growth in the numbers of immigrants, in contrast with the tendency towards modest growth in the numbers of Orthodox adherents in Czechia. Immigrants arriving from Ukraine and Russia settle in larger cities, particularly in Prague and Karlovy Vary, leading to changes in the

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Orthodox religious landscape. Four new Orthodox monasteries have been established since 1989. However, the traditionally Orthodox rural and peripheral areas, primarily settled by the Volyn Czechs, are losing their believers and the Orthodox way of life is in decline in such areas. It can be assumed that, despite the increasing secularisation of Czech society, as a result of continuing immigration from dominantly Orthodox Ukraine and Russia, the significance of the Orthodox Church in Czech society will continue to gradually increase as will Orthodoxy’s presence in Czechia’s religious landscape.

Appendix 1

Religious leaders

• • •

Metropolitan Dorotej (Dimitrij Filip) (1913–99), in office 1964–99 Metropolitan Nikolaj (Mikuláš Kocvár) (1927–2006), in office 2000–6 Metropolitan Kryštof (Radim Pulec) (1953–), in office 2006–.

2

Biography

Title: Metropolitan of the Czech Lands and Slovakia. Metropolitan Kryštof (Radim Pulec) was born on 29 June 1953. In 1974 he was ordained deacon and married priest. He completed distance-learning studies at the Orthodox Theological Faculty in Prešov and in 1984 graduate studies at the Moscow Theological Academy. Between 1982 and 1987 he studied at the Faculty of Theology in Athens, earning a doctorate in theology. After divorcing in 1985 he was tonsured at Troitse-Sergiyeva Lavra in Sergiyev Posad. In 1988 he was ordained Bishop of Olomouc and Brno; in 2000 appointed Archbishop of Prague; and in 2006 elected Metropolitan of the Czech Lands and Slovakia. 3

Theological publications

• • • •

Pravoslavný kalendář [Orthodox Calendar] Hlas Pravoslaví v ČR [Voice of Orthodoxy in the Czech Republic] Časopis Ikona [Journal Ikona] Odkaz Cyrila a Metoda v SR [Link of Cyril and Methodius in the Slovak Republik] also in Ukrainian (Zapovit Kiril and Mefodija).

4

Congregations

Structure of the Church:19 6 bishoprics, 1 metropolitanate; 27 deaneries, 268 parishes. The most important metropolitanates are the Prague eparchy and Prešov eparchy.

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Table 12.1 Orthodox presence (absolute and relative numbers of Orthodox believers) in the Czech Republic and Slovakia 1991 Czech Republic Slovakia Total

Percentage

2001

Percentage

2011

Percentage

19,354

0.2

22,968

0.2

26,472a

0.25

34,376 53,730

0.7 0.35

50,363 73,331

0.9 0.5

49,133 75,605

0.9 0.5

Sources: Data from the 2011 census in the Czech Republic (26 March 2011) and in Slovakia (21 May 2011). For more information, see: http://vdb.czso.cz/sldbvo (accessed 17 December 2011 for Czech Republic) and http://portal.statistics.sk/showdoc.do?docid=43829 (accessed 20 April 2012 for Slovakia). Note: a This figure is the sum of Orthodox believers in the Orthodox Church in the Czech Lands and Slovakia (20,628) and the Russian Orthodox Church in Czechia (5,844).

Number of clergy and church buildings: 187 priests,20 247 churches, of which 6 are cathedrals, 7 monks,21 approximately 30 cantors and 80 other members of staff.22 5

Population

In 2011 Czechia had 26,572 Orthodox believers (20,628 in the Czech Orthodox Church and 5,844 in the Russian Orthodox Church) (7,000 more than in 1991) out of a total population of 10,562,214.23 At the beginning of 2011 the number of foreigners in Czechia totalled 543,196, of which the largest groups were Ukrainians (117,810) and Slovaks (84,380), followed by Vietnamese (53,110), Russians (36,055), Germans (20,780) and Poles (17,865). The 2011 census states that 10.3 per cent of the population belong to the Roman Catholic Church, 0.5 per cent to the Evangelical Church, 0.4 per cent to the Czechoslovak Hussite Church, 0.3 per cent to the Orthodox Church, 9.2 per cent to other religions, while 79.3 per cent did not belong to any religion or did not answer this question. Other significant religious confessions are Jehovah’s Witnesses with 13,097 believers, the Brethren Church with 10,872 and the Jewish community with 1,132 believers. In 2011 Slovakia24 had 49,133 Orthodox believers (15,000 more than in 1991) out of a total population of 5,397,036.25 At the beginning of 2010 the number of foreigners in Slovakia totalled 62,882, of which the largest groups were Czechs (8,346) and Ukrainians (5,907), followed by Romanians (5,424), Poles (5,369), Hungarians (4,602) and Germans (4,038). The 2011 census states that 62 per cent of the population belongs to the Roman Catholic Church, 5.9 per cent to the Evangelical Church, 3.8 per cent to the Greek Catholic Church, 0.9 per cent to the Orthodox Church and 3.4 per cent to other religions, while 24 per cent did not belong to any religion or did not answer this question. Other significant religious confessions are Jehovah’s

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Witnesses with 17,222 believers, the Methodist Church with 10,328 and the Jewish community with 1,999 believers.

Notes 1 Grace Davie, Europe: The Exceptional Case. Parameters of Faith in the Modern World, London: Darton, Longman and Todd, 2002. 2 I. Naletova, ‘Other-Worldly Europe? Religion and the Church in the Orthodox Area of Eastern Europe’, Religion, State and Society, 2009, 37 (4), 375–402. 3 Czechia is the official one-word name of the Czech Republic. The Church’s former title was the Czechoslovak Orthodox Church, but after the division of Czechoslovakia in 1993 it has also changed its name to the Orthodox Church of the Czech Lands and Slovakia. 4 This research was funded by the GA CR (Grant Agency of the Czech Republic), project numbers P410/12/G113 on ‘Research Centre of Historical Geography’ and 13–35680S ‘Development, Transformation and Differentiation of Religions in Czechia in the Context of Global and European Shifts’. The author would like to thank the sponsor for its financial support. 5 Tomáš Havlíček, ‘The Czechoslovak Orthodox Church’, in Lucian N. Leustean (ed.), Eastern Christianity and the Cold War, 1945–91, Abingdon and New York: Routledge, 2010, pp. 137–43. 6 Metropolitan Dorotej, Prohlášení Pravoslavné církve v Československu v roce 1991 [Statement of the Orthodox Church in Czechoslovakia in 1991], http://www.pravoslavnacirkev.cz/historiecirkve.htm (accessed 17 December 2011). 7 Author’s interviews with Josef Hauzar, Chancellor of the Orthodox Church in the Czech Lands and Slovakia, 13 December 2011, Prague. 8 Ibid. 9 René Matlovič, ‘Geografia relígií’ [Geography of Religions], 2001, University of Prešov, p. 375. 10 Author’s interviews with Josef Hauzar, Chancellor of the Orthodox Church in the Czech Lands and Slovakia, 13 December 2011, Prague. 11 Ministry of Culture of the Czech Republic: http://www.mkcr.cz/cz/cirkve-a-nabozenske-spolecnosti/majetkove-narovnani/majetkove-narovnani-2011–108580/ (accessed 10 December 2011). 12 Ministry of Culture of the Czech Republic: http://www.mkcr.cz/en/cirkve-anabozenske-spolecnosti/financovani-cirkvi/financovani-na-zaklade-zakona-c-2181949-sb-1048 (accessed 25 April 2012). 13 Author’s interview with Josef Hauzar, Chancellor of the Orthodox Church in the Czech Lands and Slovakia, 13 December 2011, Prague. 14 Zdenek Vojtisek, Encyklopedie náboženských směrů a hnutí v České republice [Encyclopedia of Religious Movements in the Czech Republic], Prague: Portál Publisher, 2004. 15 Tomáš Havlíček and Martina Hupková, ‘Religious Landscape in Czechia: New Structures and Trends’, Geografie, 2008, 113 (3), 302–19. 16 Tomáš Havlíček, ‘Pravoslaví v Česku’ [Orthodoxy in Czechia], Geografické rozhledy [Geographical Review], 2007, 16 (5), 24–5. 17 Kotelniki is a village near Moscow, where the representation of the Orthodox Church in the Czech Lands and Slovakia is located in Russia. 18 In March 2011, the Czech census revealed that 5,880 believers proclaimed membership of the Russian Orthodox Church. 19 Data from Pravoslavný kalendář 2012 [Orthodox Calendar 2012], Prague: Pravoslavné vydavatelství [Orthodox Publishing], 2011.

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20 This figure is from the author’s interview with Josef Hauzar, Chancellor of the Orthodox Church in Czech Lands and Slovakia, 13 December 2011. 21 Data from Pravoslavný kalendář 2012. 22 Ibid. 23 Data from the 2011 census (26 March 2011). For more information see: http://vdb. czso.cz/sldbvo (accessed 17 December 2011) 24 Štefan Poláčik (ed.), Atlas of Religions, Religious Communities and Religiosity in Slovakia, Bratislava: Chronos Publishers, 2000. 25 Data from the 2011 census (21 May 2011). For more information see: http://portal. statistics.sk/showdoc.do?docid=43829 (accessed 20 April 2012).

13 Orthodox churches in America Alexei D. Krindatch and John H. Erickson

On Kodiak Island in 1794, monks from Russia established a mission to the native peoples of Alaska, which at the time was a distant outpost of the Russian Empire. This marked the beginning of organised Orthodox church life in North America.1 The subsequent development of Orthodoxy in America, however, was determined less by mission than by waves of immigration from various Old World bastions. Historically, the notion of ‘one nation – one church’ has been very characteristic of Eastern Christianity. Over the next two centuries, many national Orthodox churches, both Eastern (Byzantine) and Oriental (pre-Chalcedonian),2 organised their own jurisdictions in North America to minister to their respective ethnic flocks.3 While the earliest ethnically based parishes were established by immigrants themselves and operated with only minimal hierarchical supervision, eventually these coalesced into centrally administered dioceses subordinate to ‘mother churches’ in the Old World. The goal of these Orthodox jurisdictions was clear, though sometimes unspoken: to maintain the religious and cultural identity of their immigrant ethnic communities – Greek, Russian, Serbian, Romanian, Armenian, Coptic, etc. These ethnically based jurisdictions brought a measure of order and cohesion to immigrant groups that otherwise would have been lost in an ‘American melting pot’. They also have fostered the perception that Orthodoxy in America is fragmented and ‘foreign’.

Orthodox and Oriental churches in the United States and Canada Today, most Orthodox jurisdictions in the United States and Canada are still related, with varying degrees of autonomy, to one or another of the ‘mother’ Orthodox churches overseas. Tables 13.1 and 13.2 show the complexity of the institutional composition and administrative structure of Eastern Christianity in the United States and the numerical significance of each Orthodox church body. In summary, as of 2010 there were 1,043,800 adherents of all the Orthodox jurisdictions in America combined, who were gathered and participated in the life of 2,373 local Orthodox parishes and 81 monastic communities. This combined number includes 817,500 adherents of the various

Patriarchal Parishes of the Russian Orthodox Church Romanian Orthodox Archdiocese in Americas

Macedonian Orthodox Church: American Diocese Orthodox Church in America

Albanian Orthodox Diocese of America American Carpatho-Russian Orthodox Diocese Antiochian Orthodox Christian Archdiocese Bulgarian Eastern Orthodox Diocese Greek Orthodox Archdiocese of America Holy Orthodox Church in North America Georgian Orthodox parishes

Eparchy of the Ecumenical Patriarchate of Constantinople Independent church of irregular statusb not recognised by other Orthodox churches Part of Patriarchate of Georgia. The American diocese is in process of formation. Part of the Macedonian Orthodox Church. Irregular status: not recognised by other Orthodox churches Until 1970, independently functioning metropolia of the Russian Orthodox Church. Since 1970, an autocephalous (fully independent) US-based Church. Part of the Russian Orthodox Church (Patriarchate of Moscow) Part of the Romanian Orthodox Church

Autonomous within the Ecumenical Patriarchate of Constantinople Autonomous within the Ecumenical Patriarchate of Constantinople ‘Self-ruled’ within the Patriarchate of Antioch Part of the Bulgarian Orthodox Church

Status and relation to ‘mother churches’ abroad

Table 13.1 Eastern Orthodox churches in the United States, 2010

31 31

Chicago, IL

551

Syosset, NY

New York, NY

120

7

None Crown Point, IN

27

20

New York, NY

Roslindale, MA

247

Englewood, NJ

534

79

Johnstown, PA

New York, NY

2

2

1

20

0

0

7

20

2

2

0

0

Number of Number of monastic parishes communities

Jamaica Plain, MA

Administrative centre(s) on US territory

11,200

12,400

84,900

15,500

900

2,200

483,700

2,200

74,500

10,500

700

Number of adherentsa

Autonomous within the Ecumenical Patriarchate of Constantinople

Autonomous Church within the Russian Orthodox Church (Patriarchate of Moscow) Part of the Serbian Orthodox Church Alhambra, CA Mars, PA Grayslake, IL Bound Brook, NJ

New York, NY

101

123

136

0

12

10

22,400

68,800

27,700

Source: Data on the number of parishes, monastic communities and adherents from a 2010 Religious Congregation Membership Study (www.rcms2010.org) (accessed 30 January 2012), published in Krindatch (ed.), Atlas of American Orthodox Christian Churches. Notes: a ‘Adherents’ are defined as the most inclusive category of membership. ‘Adherents’ include all individual ‘full members’ (whatever definition of ‘full members’ each Orthodox jurisdiction employs), their children and estimated number of persons who are not ‘full members’, but participate – at least occasionally – in the life of the local Orthodox parish. b In addition to the widely and mutually recognised Byzantine and Oriental Orthodox churches, there are numerous Orthodox churches of ‘irregular’ status. They are of Orthodox origins and hold to Orthodox theology and liturgical practice, but for various reasons the other Orthodox churches do not recognise them and qualify them as ‘non-canonical’, ‘unlawful’, ‘schismatic’, etc.

Ukrainian Orthodox Church of the USA

Serbian Orthodox Church in North America

Russian Orthodox Church outside Russia

Autonomous archdiocese under Syrian (Syriac) Orthodox Church of Antioch Part of Malankara Orthodox Syrian Church Part of the Syrian Orthodox Church of Antioch

Malankara Archdiocese of the Syrian Orthodox Church Queens, NY Missouri City, TX Teaneck, NJ Burbank, CA

170

Cedar Grove, NJ Pomona, CA Sandia, TX Pomona, NY

0 0

32

0

4

0

0

92

41

37

94

New York, NY La Crescenta, CA

New York, NY Burbank, CA

Number of Administrative centre(s) Number of monastic on US territory parishes communities

15,700

17,000

6,400

92,100

30,500

64,500

Number of adherentsa

Note: a ‘Adherents’ are defined as the most inclusive category of membership. ‘Adherents’ include all individual ‘full members’ (whatever definition of ‘full members’ each Orthodox jurisdiction employs), their children and estimated number of persons who are not ‘full members’, but participate – at least occasionally – in the life of the local Orthodox parish.

Source: Data on the number of parishes, monastic communities and adherents from a 2010 Religious Congregation Membership Study (www.rcms2010.org) (accessed 30 January 2012), published in Krindatch (ed.), Atlas of American Orthodox Christian Churches.

Malankara (Indian) Orthodox Syrian Church Syrian (Syriac) Orthodox Church of Antioch

Armenian Apostolic Church of America (Catholicosate of Cilicia) Coptic Orthodox Church in the United States

Part of the Armenian Apostolic Church – Catholicosate of Etchmiadzin Part of the Armenian Apostolic Church – Catholicosate of Cilicia Part of the Coptic Orthodox Church

Armenian Church of America (Catholicosate of Etchmiadzin)

Status and relation to ‘mother’ churches abroad

Table 13.2 Oriental Orthodox churches in the United States, 2010

Orthodox churches in America

255

Eastern Orthodox churches and 226,300 adherents of the various Oriental Orthodox churches. The above figures suggest that at the beginning of the third millennium Eastern Christianity has become well established in the American cultural and religious landscape. Yet Orthodox Christians in the United States sometimes joke that their faith is the best-kept secret in America. That is, in many ways their history, beliefs and practices remain unknown or misunderstood by mainstream America. In part this may be due to their uneven geographic distribution. Orthodox churches – with their unusual domes and other distinctive architectural features – are common enough in many northeastern and midwestern industrial cities, in the small towns of Pennsylvania, in the villages of Alaska and across the prairie provinces of Canada. They are less often seen in the southern and western states, aside from California. Statistically, 49 per cent (almost half!) of all US Orthodox Christians are concentrated in five states: California (15 per cent), New York (14 per cent), Illinois (7 per cent), Massachusetts (7 per cent) and Pennsylvania (6 per cent). Further, they are geographically concentrated not only in certain states, but in particular areas within these states. For instance, almost one fifth (19 per cent) of all American Orthodox church members are to be found in just five US counties: Los Angeles County in California, Cook County in Illinois (which corresponds to the city of Chicago), Queens County in New York (which forms part of New York City), New York County (the Manhattan portion of New York City) and Middlesex County in Massachusetts (the Boston metropolitan area). Occasional publications and appearances in local mass media may call attention to the pageantry of Holy Week in the Orthodox Church (which often falls some weeks after Western Christians have celebrated it) or to customs associated with Christmas (which for many Orthodox Christians falls thirteen days after the Western observance). But these token acknowledgements tend simply to reinforce the impression that Orthodoxy is exotic, so closely linked to alien ‘ethnic’ cultures – Greek, Russian, Serbian, Romanian, Syrian, Armenian, Coptic – as to be non-American if not altogether un-American. A further source of confusion concerning Orthodoxy in America is the fact that the Orthodox Christian community is divided into so many different groups. A glance through standard reference works on religious groups in America reveals a bewildering assortment of church names, some quite convoluted, that contain the word ‘Orthodox’. Most of these reflect the Old World roots of particular ethnic groups in a straightforward way: Greek Orthodox, Serbian Orthodox, Bulgarian Orthodox, Coptic Orthodox. But in other cases they reflect church divisions within a given ethnic group. For example, Manhattan in New York City is home to no fewer than three cathedrals that could be classified as ‘Russian’. For many decades the ecclesiastical jurisdictions to which these three cathedrals belong, though now mutually reconciled, were bitter adversaries, with a succession of court cases marking their struggles over church property.4

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As noted previously, most of the Orthodox churches – or ‘jurisdictions’ – in America, whether Eastern or Oriental, are linked to their mother churches in the Old World in some way. These ties create rich diversity in the cultural expressions of Orthodoxy in America. At the same time, they help explain why Orthodoxy in America is so widely perceived as fragmented and exotic: a collection of ethnic groups, each with its own traditional foods and colourful costumes, united by little more than a shared name, ‘Orthodox’.

The historical evolution of Orthodoxy in America: from the Alaskan mission to the age of mass immigration Orthodox Christians appear to have been present in America as early as the seventeenth century. The records of the Virginia Company, for instance, note that a certain ‘Martin the Armenian’ came out to the Jamestown colony in 1618. Better documented at this point is the story of Virginia aristocrat Philip Ludwell III, who converted to Orthodoxy at the Russian church in London in 1738, followed by his daughters and son-in-law.5 Well known also is the story of New Smyrna, a colony of several hundred Greeks that British entrepreneur Andrew Turnbull established near St. Augustine, Florida, in 1768. Turnbull even considered providing an Orthodox priest for his fledgling settlement, but like so many of his ambitious plans, this one never materialised. Disease and brutal working conditions at New Smyrna led to its abandonment within a decade.6 Organised Orthodox church life in North America – as distinct from the presence of individual Orthodox Christians – first developed at the opposite extremity of the continent, in Alaska. In 1741 an expedition led by Vitus Bering, a Dane in the Russian Empire’s service, explored the coastal regions of Alaska and returned home with a valuable cargo of sea-otter pelts. For several decades Russian trader-trappers developed a lucrative trade in furs. In 1784 a wealthy Siberian merchant, Gregory Shelikhov, set up a permanent trading post on Kodiak Island. Hoping to gain an imperial monopoly for his Russian-American Company, Shelikhov travelled to the Russian capital of St Petersburg, where he boasted of the many natives he had baptised and the many native children who were attending the company chapel – non-existent, as it turned out. When Shelikhov asked for a priest to serve the spiritual needs of his little colony, Metropolitan Gabriel of St Petersburg responded by sending an entire missionary team of eight monks from the Valaam Monastery, a famous centre of spirituality and mission located on Russia’s border with Finland. On arriving in Alaska, the missionaries met with hostility, not from the native peoples, who warmly embraced their teaching, but from Shelikhov’s powerful company manager, Alexander Baranov. The monks, steeped in the long tradition of mission in the Christian East, quickly assumed the role of advocates for the native peoples, identifying with their needs and defending them against exploitation at the hands of the rapacious Russian fur traders.

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So outspoken were they that Baranov for a time kept them in close confinement and even threatened to put them in chains. The last member of the Valaam missionary team, the beloved Father Herman, died in 1837. He would be canonised as America’s first Orthodox saint in 1970 (St Herman of Alaska). But already a new generation had taken charge of the Alaskan mission. Particularly noteworthy was the work of Innocent Veniaminov, first as a priest, later as the first Orthodox bishop in America. He developed an alphabet for the Aleut language, translated church services and Scripture, established a pastoral school for the training of native clergy and expanded the mission into regions far beyond the nearest Russian outpost. In 1977 he would be canonised as ‘Apostle to America’. By the mid-nineteenth century, a vibrant Orthodox culture had developed in Alaska, with native and mixed-race Alaskans taking a dominant role in religious life. According to an 1860 census, the population of Alaska included approximately 12,000 baptised Orthodox Christians. Of these only a small fraction – barely 2,000 – was ethnically Russians. While priests were few in number, in remote villages lay readers and cantors maintained community worship life even in their absence. The dedication of these native leaders assured the survival of Orthodoxy in Alaska even after the sale of Alaska to the United States in 1867, despite vigorous efforts of federally funded Protestant mission schools to replace native culture (which now included the Orthodox faith as an important component) with Anglo-American culture and religious values.7 Despite its significant presence in Alaska, at this point Orthodoxy had made very little impact in the mainland United States. Consular officials, shipping agents and merchants from Greece and Russia provided an Orthodox presence in a few port cities, but organised church life was virtually non-existent. In 1864, a group of Greek cotton traders in New Orleans, led by the local Greek consul, organised what is generally regarded as the first Orthodox parish in the mainland United States. Like other Orthodox parishes before the age of mass immigration from southern and eastern Europe, this Church of the Holy Trinity was multi-ethnic, with Greek, Russian, Serbian and Arab members. In the same year a group of Orthodox Christians in San Francisco, including the Russian and Greek consuls, met to form the Greek-RussianSlavic Church and Philanthropic Society. After receiving a state charter, the society petitioned the Russian Orthodox Church to assign a priest. The Russian Church responded by transferring a priest and cantor from Alaska to San Francisco and granting an annual subsidy to support them. The sale of Alaska to the United States brought many challenges for Orthodox Christians in that former outpost of the Russian Empire, but some visionaries saw in it an opportunity for wider mission. St Innocent Veniaminov, by this point an archbishop back in Russia, described it as ‘one of the ways of Providence whereby Orthodoxy will penetrate the United States’, and he offered a series of suggestions on how to reorganise church life: diocesan headquarters should be transferred from New Archangel

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(Sitka) to San Francisco; an English-speaking bishop and staff should be appointed; the bishop should be allowed to ‘ordain to the priesthood for our churches converts to Orthodoxy from among American citizens’; he and all his clergy should be allowed ‘to celebrate the Liturgy and all other services in English (for which purpose, obviously the service books must be translated into English)’ and ‘to use English rather than Russian (which must sooner or later be replaced by English) in all instruction in the schools’.8 Many of St Innocent’s recommendations were implemented over the next few decades. Diocesan headquarters were transferred to San Francisco (1872– 4) and subsequently to New York (1905). Most of the bishops were fluent in English, and they appear to have been chosen on the basis of certain relevant competencies. Bishop John Mitropolsky (1870–6) was the author of a five-volume History of Religious Sects in America. Bishop Nestor Zakkis (1879–82) previously had spent a year in the United States during the American Civil War as a Russian naval chaplain. Bishop Vladimir Sokolovsky (1888–91) had made two extended visits to the United States while he was stationed as a missionary in Japan. Once in the United States, he created English-language versions for the most common Russian liturgical chants. Especially important from the perspective of both mission and pastoral care was the establishment of a full-fledged theological seminary (1905, in Minneapolis, MN) by Archbishop Tikhon Bellavin (1898–1907), who intended it to be a place where young people born in America ‘could study and become pastors for the people from within their own milieu, knowing their spirit, customs and language’.9 In his later life, in the midst of the Bolshevik Revolution in Russia, Archbishop Tikhon became Patriarch of Moscow and All Russia (1917–25). He would be canonised as a confessor of the faith in 1988. By the end of the nineteenth century, the context in which the Russian North American mission diocese operated had changed dramatically from when the Valaam monks first reached Kodiak Island in 1794. No longer was the mission limited to a remote corner of the Russian Empire populated by pre-Christian peoples. Now it was operating in a foreign sovereign state. And unlike Japan and China, two other loci of Russian Orthodox mission activity in this period, the United States was not just a budding (or declining) world power with no significant Christian heritage. By its own self-understanding it was a ‘Christian nation’ in the vanguard of Western civilisation.10 This change entailed a new social role for the mission diocese’s bishops and their clergy. Besides being pastors for a far-flung flock, they played an important role in public relations. Whether on ceremonial occasions, such as the state visit of a grand duke or a memorial service for a deceased tsar, or in everyday affairs, they served as the public face of Russia and its church. While the leaders of the Diocese continued to speak of themselves as missionaries in non-Orthodox America, they faced a new challenge. How were they to address the pastoral needs of the ethnically diverse Orthodox immigrant groups that were streaming into the United States? Can one be an effective missionary and at the same time an effective pastor of immigrants?

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From the 1870s until the 1917 Bolshevik Revolution in Russia, the bishops and their close associates in the North America Diocese attempted to be both. Initially, while immigration was still just a trickle, the diocesan administration tried to minister to its small and scattered flock by establishing multiethnic parishes served by priests with wide linguistic competence. These clergy include a number of Syro-Arabs, Balkan Slavs and a few Greeks who had studied in Russian theological academies. As the trickle of immigration became a torrent, the diocese was reorganised into an archdiocese, with deans or auxiliary bishops supervising parishes composed of members of particular ethnic groups. Bishop Raphael Hawaweeny – born in Damascus, Syria, educated in the Kyiv Theological Academy in Russia, then professor in the Kazan Theological Academy – organised and supervised the growing SyroArab community and maintained close ties with the Patriarchate of Antioch. Archimandrite Sebastian Dabovich – American-born of Serbian descent, educated in the St Petersburg and Kyiv Theological Academies – was in charge of the Serbian parishes. In a 1905 report to the Holy Synod in Russia, Archbishop Tikhon explained the rationale for these arrangements: The diocese is not only multinational. It is composed of several Orthodox churches, which preserve their peculiarities in canonical structure, in liturgical rules, in parish life. These peculiarities are dear to them and can perfectly well be tolerated in the pan-Orthodox scene. We do not consider that we have the right to suppress the national character of the churches here. On the contrary, we try to preserve this character, and we confer on them the latitude to be governed by leaders of their own nationality.11 These Russian efforts to foster the administrative unity of Orthodoxy in America – to maintain a united Orthodox Church – met with only limited success. As the torrent of immigration continued, many fully independent parishes were organised without any formal ties to the Russian Archdiocese – or, for that matter, to any other superior ecclesiastical authority. This was especially true among the Greeks, whose numbers in America were increasing dramatically in the years immediately preceding the First World War. In 1900 there were just five independent Greek parishes in the United States; by 1916 there were about 140. Some of these parishes petitioned the Church of Greece to supply a priest, while others approached the Patriarchate of Constantinople or even the Patriarchate of Alexandria or Jerusalem. Some parishes simply relied on the recommendation of friends and relatives to bring a priest from the Old Country. The political and regional preferences of parishioners often played a preponderant role in this choice. Meanwhile, as new arrivals streamed in and independent parishes proliferated, the Russian North American Archdiocese was devoting more and more energy to its ‘Russian’ constituency. The adjective ‘Russian’ must be placed in quotation marks, because the number of Orthodox immigrants from the Russian Empire itself was relatively small. The vast majority of the ‘Russians’

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in America were Carpatho-Rusyns from the Austro-Hungarian Empire, who had arrived in the United States as Greek Catholics (or, as the Orthodox called them, ‘Uniates’). These Greek Catholics were Eastern Christians whose forebears, under pressure from the Catholic rulers of Poland and AustriaHungary, had accepted the authority of the Pope of Rome but kept liturgical and other traditions of the Orthodox Church. Catholic bishops in the United States were generally ignorant of the many liturgical, cultural and linguistic peculiarities that distinguished these Eastern Catholics from their Latin Catholic fellow immigrants. If these people are good Catholics, their reasoning went, let them attend the existing Latin-rite parishes of their Slovak, Polish and Hungarian neighbours. From 1891 onward, the hostility of the Roman Catholic bishops provoked a massive ‘return’ of these Greek Catholics to their ancestral Orthodoxy – a movement initiated by the fiery Fr Alexis Toth in 1889. By 1917, some 163 Carpatho-Rusyn communities had entered the Russian North American Archdiocese.12 As archdiocesan attention turned increasingly to ‘Russians’, other ethnic groups were neglected. After the death of Bishop Raphael in 1915, a visiting bishop from Syria, Metropolitan Germanos of Baalbek, attempted to assume leadership of the Arab Orthodox community in opposition to Bishop Raphael’s eventual successor, Aftimios Ofiesh. This prompted numerous clashes between the ‘Antacky’, or pro-Antiochians, and the ‘Russy’, or proRussians. At a church convention of the Serbian community in 1913, the twelve Serbian parishes in the North American Archdiocese resolved to secede and join the Serbian Orthodox Church instead. Serbian church authorities in Belgrade did not respond, and the matter was taken up again only after the First World War. Nevertheless the resolution of the Serbian parishes and the tensions within the Syro-Arab community did not bode well for the structural unity of Orthodoxy in North America. By this point the rapidly growing new immigrant groups – not only Greeks and Russians but also Arabs, Serbs, Bulgarians, Albanians, Ukrainians and Romanians – found it natural and reassuring to associate with other members of their ethnic group. They saw no need to express this unity in the form of pan-Orthodox parishes. For these new immigrants, their parishes were not just worshipping communities. They were centres of social and cultural life that protected and sustained the immigrants in the face of a new and sometimes hostile society.

The historical evolution of Orthodoxy in America: the ethnic jurisdiction emerges Despite these centrifugal tendencies, a spirit of optimism still prevailed within the Russian North American Archdiocese. By 1917, it included over 350 parishes and chapels, a seminary, a college or finishing school for young women, a monastery, a convent, several orphanages, an immigrant aid society, a settlement house and a savings bank.13 But 1917 was a tumultuous year. The first revolution in Russia in February dethroned the Tsar. Another, in

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October, put the militantly atheistic Bolsheviks in power. The brutal civil war that ensued, followed by the communist experiment in the liquidation of all religious life in Russia, had a seismic impact on the history of Orthodoxy in America. Prior to 1917, leaders of the North American Archdiocese sometimes had spoken of its eventual need for autocephaly – i.e. ecclesiastical independence from the Russian Orthodox Church. But in reality the Archdiocese was quite dependent, both financially and administratively, on the Russian Orthodox Church and on the Russian state to which that church was so closely tied. For example, a subsidy from Russia covered nearly all its large central administrative budget. With the advent of communist rule in Russia, that relationship became an overwhelming liability. With financial support cut off, the Archdiocese was plunged into financial chaos. As a result, practically all educational and philanthropic programmes were terminated. The Archdiocese also faced a constitutional crisis. Archbishop Evdokim Meshchersky had departed for Russia in the summer of 1917 to participate in an All-Russian Church Council and never returned. In 1922, the administration of the Archdiocese was taken over by Metropolitan Platon Rozhdestvensky, who previously had headed it (1907–14) and who now had returned to the United States as a refugee. A council of archdiocesan clergy and laity, the ‘Third All-American Sobor’ in Pittsburgh in 1922, proclaimed Platon as ‘Metropolitan of All America and Canada’, a position that he would hold until his death in 1934. Nevertheless, his authority was challenged from several directions. The first challenge had its roots in Russia. With the support of the new Soviet regime, a group of ‘progressive’ clergy seized control of the headquarters of the Russian Orthodox Church in Moscow, declared Patriarch Tikhon deposed and proceeded to introduce a number of liturgical and canonical innovations, including the ordination of married men as bishops. This group, known as the ‘Living Church’ or ‘Renovated Church’, appointed a defrocked American priest, John Kedrovsky, as archbishop for America. He in turn launched a series of lawsuits in US courts in an attempt to gain control of the parishes and other assets of the Archdiocese, claiming to be its legitimately appointed head. Unable to communicate freely with Patriarch Tikhon, who was imprisoned or under constant surveillance by the communists in Russia, and threatened by Kedrovsky’s lawsuits, the ‘Fourth All-American Sobor’, in Detroit in 1924, proclaimed the North American Archdiocese to be ‘a temporarily self-governing church’ until a future council of the Russian Orthodox Church could deal with ecclesiastical affairs under conditions of political freedom.14 Henceforth the Russian Orthodox Greek Catholic Church of America (to give it its official name) or Metropolia (as it was popularly called) would pursue its own troubled but self-governing course. In addition to the ‘Living Church’, two other groups entered into the battle for the spiritual allegiance of Russian Orthodox Christians in America. One was the Russian Orthodox Church outside Russia or ‘Karlovtsy Synod’,

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organised by a group of refugee Russian bishops in Sremsky Karlovtsy, Yugoslavia. The goal of the Synod was to create a ‘united front’ of all the Russian Orthodox outside the suffering Soviet Union, but – in the eyes of its critics – it compromised itself by adopting an overtly pro-monarchist political position. The other challenge came from Soviet Russia, from a somewhat revived Russian Orthodox Church, which by this point had pledged its full loyalty to the Soviet state and demanded that Russian bishops outside the Soviet Union refrain from any anti-Soviet activity. Despite the establishment of these rival Russian church bodies in America, the vast majority of clergy and laity remained loyal to the Metropolia. Nevertheless, struggles between these groups left a deep mark on parish life. As the Russian North American Archdiocese became absorbed in its own problems, it lost whatever power it once had to foster the structural unity of Orthodoxy in America. The centrifugal tendencies already evident before 1917 accelerated. By 1940 over a dozen Orthodox ecclesiastical jurisdictions would emerge in America, each organised along ethnic lines, with ties of varying nature and strength linking them to nearly as many ‘mother churches’ in the Old World but with little or no contact among themselves. First and by far the largest of these new church bodies was the Greek Orthodox Archdiocese. Greek immigration to the United States increased dramatically during the first two decades of the twentieth century, and the number of Greek parishes had increased accordingly. These newly formed parishes had little contact with the Russian Archdiocese and received little or no supervision from abroad. A 1908 decree of the Patriarchate of Constantinople had placed them under the administration of the Church of Greece, but for over a decade nothing was done to provide them with a bishop or to organise church life above the parish level. This situation began to change in 1917, as the First World War was convulsing Europe. The pro-Allied Prime Minister of Greece, Eleftherios Venizelos, forced German-leaning King Constantine into exile and replaced the incumbent Archbishop of Athens with his own candidate, Meletios Metaxakis. Archbishop Meletios was determined to organise the independent Greek parishes in America into a coherent diocese – no small task, because Greeks in America were as divided between Venizelists and royalists as their compatriots back in Greece. In 1920, Venizelos suffered a stunning election defeat, the King returned from exile and Meletios Metaxakis was deposed from office. Still claiming to be the legitimate head of the Church of Greece, Meletios returned to the United States, where he convoked the ‘First Clergy–Laity Congress’ of Greek parishes in America. This meeting, in New York City in 1921, formally established the Greek Orthodox Archdiocese of North and South America. But before the year was over, in another dramatic development, Meletios was elected Patriarch of Constantinople. In one of his first acts as Patriarch, Meletios repealed the 1908 decree, in effect transferring jurisdiction over the Greek Orthodox Archdiocese from himself as (former) Archbishop of Athens to himself as Patriarch of Constantinople. Not everyone was pleased by these

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developments. In America, strife between royalists and Venizelists continued into the 1930s. Unity in the American Greek Orthodox community was restored only with the appointment of the charismatic Athenagoras Spyrou as Archbishop (1931–48; subsequently, Ecumenical Patriarch of Constantinople 1948–72). During his tenure, the Greek Orthodox Archdiocese developed into the largest and most influential Orthodox jurisdiction in America. When Athenagoras first arrived to take up his new post in America, few had turned out to meet him and only the Greek-American press covered the event. When he left for his enthronement as Patriarch of Constantinople, thousands watched him board President Truman’s private plane for the trip to Istanbul, and his picture appeared on the cover of Life magazine. Most of the other ethnic Orthodox jurisdictions formed during the 1920s and 1930s followed a similar pattern. The Serbian parishes, formerly associated with the Russian North American Archdiocese, turned to the Patriarchate of Serbia and were chartered as a diocese in 1921. The Albanian parishes, also formerly associated with the Russian Archdiocese, were organised as a diocese in 1932 by Archbishop Theophan Noli, a noted literary figure and one-time Prime Minister of Albania. The Romanian Orthodox parishes – some dating back to the first decade of the twentieth century – held their first united congress in Detroit in 1929 and asked the Patriarchate of Romania to establish a North America Diocese, but their first hierarch, Bishop Policarp Moruşcă, arrived only six years later. The Bulgarian Orthodox parishes received their first resident bishop from the Patriarchate of Bulgaria in 1938. The situation of the Syro-Arab parishes was more complicated. Struggles between the ‘Antacky’ and ‘Russy’ resulted in a split within the Arab Orthodox community that continued long after circumstances leading to it had faded from memory. The energetic Archbishop Antony Bashir in New York won the allegiance of the great majority of Antiochian parishes, but his rival in Toledo, Bishop Samuel David, also received recognition from the Patriarchate of Antioch. As a result, two Antiochian jurisdictions existed side by side in America for nearly four decades, their division ending only in 1975. Most immigrant groups found it fairly easy to form a relationship with a mother church in the Old World. For a few, however, political or other circumstances made this difficult. Ukrainian Orthodox – restive whether their homeland was part of the Russian Empire or part of the Soviet Union – formed their own dioceses in the United States and Canada. Yet, because of irregularities surrounding their formation, these dioceses were regarded as ‘uncanonical’ (unlawful) by the other Orthodox jurisdictions in America for many decades. More fortunate were two groups of former Eastern Catholics. A 1929 papal decree requiring celibacy for all newly ordained Eastern Catholic clergy in America prompted many Eastern Catholic Ukrainians and Carpatho-Rusyns to consider returning to their ancestral Orthodoxy. But to whom should they turn? They did not regard themselves as Russians, and they had no desire to be Russified. Rather than turn to the Russian Church, following the path taken

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by Fr Alexis Toth in the previous century, they turned to the Patriarchate of Constantinople, which claimed exclusive jurisdiction and spiritual authority over the so-called ‘diaspora’, i.e., lands beyond the limits of the other autocephalous Orthodox churches. As a result, the former group entered the jurisdiction of Constantinople in 1937 as the Ukrainian Orthodox Church in America and the latter group a year later as the American Carpatho-Russian Orthodox Greek Catholic Diocese of the USA.15 The ethnic church jurisdictions formed during this period brought a measure of order and pastoral care to Orthodox immigrant groups in America. But this came at a price. Divided, the ethnic jurisdictions lacked the financial and human resources necessary for supporting the kinds of educational and social service programmes that had served Orthodox Christians in America before the communist revolution in Russia. For example, the theological seminary that Archbishop Tikhon had founded in 1905 closed its doors in 1923 for lack of funds. A small Greek Orthodox seminary founded by Meletios Metaxakis in 1921 ended its short existence the same year. Nothing comparable would take their place until the establishment of Holy Cross Greek Orthodox School of Theology in 1937 and St Vladimir’s Orthodox Theological Seminary in 1938.

The historical evolution of Orthodoxy in America: sociological changes and the search for structural unity Following the Second World War, Orthodoxy in America remained structurally divided. In fact, the number of jurisdictions increased, as many ethnic jurisdictions (Romanian, Serbian, Bulgarian) split over problems created by the ascendancy of communism in Eastern Europe. At the same time, inwardly, an important trend was underway. The socially mobile, English-speaking, American-educated children and grandchildren of the first generation of immigrants were relatively uninterested in Old World cultural differences and politics. Individual Orthodox Christians began to discover a common Orthodox identity across ethnic lines. They were less inclined than their parents to regard religious faith and ethnic identity as inseparable. If asked about their religious affiliation, they might answer simply that they were ‘Orthodox’. They called for greater use of English in church services so that their spouses, often from non-Orthodox backgrounds, could feel at home. They moved – physically and psychologically – from the inner-city ethnic ghettos of their youth to the burgeoning suburbs, where they established new parishes, many of them pan-Orthodox in character. The new, American-born generation of Orthodox Christians remained optimistic even when controversies broke out over such issues as liturgical renewal and the use of English in church services. In a way, such controversies were signs that the Orthodox Church was taking seriously the challenge of adapting to mainstream America. Many also were optimistic about prospects for greater Orthodox unity in America. As sociological obstacles to unity

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were breaking down, theological reasons for unity were becoming more compelling. On a local level, pan-Orthodox clergy associations were organised. In university communities, Orthodox Campus Fellowships (OCFs) sprang up, which brought together students from across jurisdictional lines to hear lectures by such eminent Orthodox theologians as Fr Georges Florovsky and Fr Alexander Schmemann. A national, inter-Orthodox Christian Education Commission (OCEC) was also established (1957). A new phase in the quest for Orthodox unity in America began in 1960, with the creation of the Standing Conference of Canonical Orthodox Bishops in the Americas (SCOBA) – an association of bishops heading the various Orthodox jurisdictions in America. During the first decade of its existence, under the dynamic leadership of Archbishop Iakovos Coucouzes16 of the Greek Orthodox Archdiocese, SCOBA became an important agency for cooperation between Orthodox jurisdictions in America. It took the OCEC under its wing and established various commissions to coordinate Orthodox activities on a national level, including a Commission on Military Chaplaincies, a Campus Commission to assist the burgeoning OCF movement and an Ecumenical Commission to coordinate theological dialogue with other Christian churches, including Episcopalians, Lutherans, Reformed, Oriental Orthodox and Catholics.17 SCOBA began as a consultative body. It had no authority to make decisions that would be binding on its member jurisdictions. Many hoped, however, that SCOBA would become the basis for a united Orthodox Church in America. During the 1960s SCOBA members discussed a series of proposals, which, had they been adopted and implemented, would have transformed Orthodoxy in America from a collection of separate jurisdictions, each dependent on a mother church in the Old World, into a single autonomous church, headed at least initially by an archbishop, or exarch, representing the Patriarch of Constantinople. While each jurisdiction would continue to manage its own internal affairs, SCOBA – now constituted as the Holy Synod of a united church – would assume responsibility for such matters as the ordination of bishops, educational and outreach programmes and relations with other Orthodox churches globally. One problem was getting the mother churches in Europe and the Middle East to agree to these proposals. Some were favourably inclined. Others were opposed. Despite this lack of consensus, proponents of unity still had some grounds for optimism. The Old World churches themselves were beginning to meet together in pan-Orthodox conferences to discuss issues of common concern, laying the groundwork for a future ‘Great and Holy Council of the Orthodox Church’. Unfortunately, tense inter-church relations, particularly between the Patriarchate of Constantinople and the Russian Orthodox Church, assured that the pan-Orthodox conferences would deal only with ‘safe’ topics rather than such controversial issues as the future of Orthodoxy in America. SCOBA’s appeal to have its proposals taken up by a pan-Orthodox conference therefore met with no success.

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These futile efforts were complicated by an old problem: the relationship between the Metropolia and the Moscow Patriarchate. The revival of the Russian Orthodox Church in the Soviet Union following the Second World War made it difficult to question its legitimacy any longer. In the 1960s, joined by the other Orthodox churches in Soviet-dominated Eastern Europe, the Russian Orthodox Church was playing an increasingly active role in inter-Orthodox affairs. It also began to put pressure on the Patriarchate of Constantinople and the other autocephalous churches to end all relations with the Metropolia as being a schismatic religious group. Within SCOBA, representatives of the Moscow Patriarchate insisted that greater unity was not possible until all the participating jurisdictions were in good standing with their mother churches – something clearly not the case with the Metropolia. For its part, the Metropolia had often expressed a desire to normalise relations with the Russian Orthodox Church. Yet many in the Metropolia feared that subordination to Moscow would compromise their church’s internal freedom. Perhaps more importantly, many church members no longer regarded themselves as constituting a ‘Russian’ jurisdiction. Their church had experienced decades of effective independence during which its earlier Russian character had not been reinforced by the arrival of new immigrants. Instead the church had assumed an American character, to the point that an overwhelming majority of clergy and laity favoured changing its official name from the unwieldy ‘Russian Orthodox Greek Catholic Church in America’ to the simpler ‘Orthodox Church in America’. In 1966 the Metropolia attempted to get around the problem of its questionable status by appealing to the Patriarchate of Constantinople, which in the past had accepted other Orthodox groups into its jurisdiction. But during this period Constantinople was under considerable pressure from Moscow. ‘You are Russians’, the aged Patriarch Athenagoras told the Metropolia’s representative. ‘Go back to your mother church. No one can solve your problem except the Russian Church.’18 In 1970, as a result of renewed negotiations with Moscow, the North American ‘daughter church’ was reconciled to its Russian Orthodox ‘mother church’. In turn, the Russian Church granted the Metropolia autocephaly – full ecclesiastical independence – as the Orthodox Church in America (OCA). Autocephaly resolved the old problem of the Metropolia’s relationship to the Russian Orthodox Church, but it created a new problem. Constantinople and the other Greek-led churches (Alexandria, Jerusalem, Cyprus, Greece) rejected the Metropolia’s new status and name. They argued that only a panOrthodox Council of ecumenical standing or the Patriarch of Constantinople, acting as ‘first among equals’, could establish a new autocephalous church. At the same time, a number of Orthodox churches in Eastern Europe (Bulgaria, Poland, Czechoslovakia, Georgia) did recognise the autocephaly of the OCA. Still other churches (Antioch, Romania, Serbia) adopted a wait-and-see attitude. In America many had hoped that the autocephaly of the OCA would advance the cause of Orthodox unity. But in fact the autocephaly of the OCA

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did not spark a wider unification of the Orthodox jurisdictions in America. The OCA in the 1970s and 1980s proved no more able than SCOBA had been in the 1960s to bring about the full structural unity of Orthodoxy in America. Meanwhile the face of Orthodoxy in America began to change again. By the 1960s the great majority of Orthodox Christians in America were no longer immigrants but rather second- and third-generation ‘hyphenated Americans’: Greek-Americans, Serbian-Americans, Russian-Americans, etc. By this point they were as fully integrated into American life as their ItalianAmerican or Irish-American neighbours. But the Immigration Act of 1965 reopened America’s doors to a new wave of immigration from all parts of the world. Included among these new immigrants were many Eastern Orthodox Christians – Greeks dislocated by the Cyprus crisis, Lebanese fleeing civil war and insecurity at home and then, in the 1990s, following the fall of communism in Russia and Eastern Europe, many thousands of Russians, Ukrainians, Romanians, Serbs, Bulgarians and Georgians. For a variety of reasons, these new immigrants have not always fitted well into the parishes founded by the immigrants of the early twentieth century and their hyphenated-American descendants. Newcomers complained that the old-timers made them feel unwelcome and unwanted. Old-timers complained that the newcomers expected everything but did little or nothing to support the parish. Complicating this situation has been the fast-growing presence of Oriental (or non-Chalcedonian) Orthodox Christians in America. The initial Syrian and Armenian Orthodox immigration to the United States began in the late nineteenth century. The first Armenian Orthodox Church in the United States was built in 1891 in Worcester, MA, while first Syrian Orthodox parish was founded in 1907 in Paramus, NJ.19 Similarly to various Eastern Orthodox immigrant bodies, the first Armenian and Syrian parishes eventually coalesced into dioceses subordinate to the mother churches overseas.20 In the 1920s, a growing controversy over the credibility of communist Armenia (which was declared a republic of the Soviet Union in 1920) and the status of the historic see of the Armenian Church, Holy Etchmiadzin, polarised political factions in the American Armenian community and led to a division in the Armenian Church. The final split occurred in 1933: a majority of Armenian parishes in America upheld the authority of the Catholicosate of Etchmiadzin (situated in Soviet republic of Armenia), while a smaller group of parishes joined the Armenian Catholicosate of Cilicia, with headquarters in Lebanon. The two factions of the Armenian Church in United States continue to exist to the present day. Since the mid-1960s the number of Oriental Orthodox Christians in America has dramatically increased, especially from groups not previously represented in significant numbers, such as Copts (Orthodox Christians from Egypt), Malankara Indians, Ethiopians and Eritreans. The first American Coptic Orthodox parish, dedicated to St Mark, was founded in Jersey City, NJ, in 1970. Four decades later, in 2010, the Coptic Orthodox Church in

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North America has grown to 170 parishes and four monasteries. The first Malankara (Indian) Orthodox Syrian parish, dedicated to St Thomas, was legally incorporated in New York in 1972. Today, more than 130 Malankara Indian Orthodox parishes are spread all across the United States. This dramatic growth of the Oriental Orthodox churches during the last four decades has revived discussion of theological issues going back to the initial division of the Eastern and the Oriental families of churches in late antiquity. This raises questions about how churches of the two families should relate to one another in America. Should the Eastern Orthodox help the Oriental Orthodox in organising their own parishes? In places where the Oriental Orthodox do not have their own parishes, should they be encouraged to participate in the sacraments and other aspects of life in Eastern Orthodox parishes? Leaders on both sides have encouraged closer relations, but dissenting voices can also be heard. Not everyone is convinced that the other side is fully orthodox.21 The ‘newcomers’ to Orthodox parishes in America have not only been newly arrived immigrants. Throughout its history in America, the Orthodox Church has attracted many men and women from other religious backgrounds to convert to Orthodox. Since the 1970s the number of converts to Orthodoxy has increased dramatically. According to a 2008 national study, 29 per cent of lay members of the Greek Orthodox Archdiocese of America – the largest of the American Orthodox jurisdictions – were raised in the other (non-Orthodox) religious traditions. In the case of the Orthodox Church in America (the second largest Orthodox jurisdiction), a dominant majority (51 per cent) of church members are adult converts to Orthodoxy.22 Converts are present in all Orthodox jurisdictions, but their numbers are especially significant in the Orthodox Church in America and in the Antiochian Orthodox Christian Archdiocese. Over half of all the priests in these two jurisdictions entered the Orthodox Church as adults. These American converts have come to Orthodoxy in a variety of ways. Most joined the Orthodox Church as individuals, usually after a period of religious searching, but some have entered as part of a religious group. An ‘iconic’ example of this sort is the en masse conversion of 2,000 to 3,000 members of the Protestant ‘Evangelical Orthodox Church’, who joined the Antiochian Orthodox Christian Archdiocese in 1987.23 The origins of another group conversion go back to a New Age movement known as the Holy Order of MANS.24 Regardless of background, most converts are well read, articulate and enthusiastic about their new faith. Their presence has made Orthodoxy in America more diverse than ever, but also less cohesive. Many converts have a highly developed sense of mission and evangelism. At times this makes them impatient with cradle Orthodox who may view Orthodoxy simply as one aspect of their ethnic identity. Some, upset by developments in other Christian denominations and impressed by the ostensibly unchanging character of Orthodoxy, try to be as ‘traditional Orthodox’ as possible, to the point of adopting practices that many cradle Orthodox in America find rather odd.25

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Another demographic trend that raises issues for local Orthodox parishes in America is the rapidly growing proportion of intermarried families – i.e. couples in which one of the spouses is Orthodox and the other is not.26 A 2008 study by the Pew Forum on Religion and Public Life estimated that 36 per cent of Orthodox Christians in America today live in religiously mixed relationships.27 To be sure, intermarried couples have had an increasing presence and impact in all Christian denominations. Yet, in the case of Orthodoxy, this phenomenon is particularly complex and challenging because of the strict rules surrounding intermarriage in the Orthodox Church28 and because of the very distinct religious identity, requirements and patterns of Orthodox Church life. In many cases, non-Orthodox spouses are actively involved in many aspects of church life. They volunteer their time and resources for the Orthodox parish. Yet positions of governance in the local church community are not open to them, and they cannot participate in the decision-making process in an official way. The presence of the intermarried couples in an Orthodox parish thus poses an inevitable question: how much effort should the parish put into transmitting Orthodox tradition and doctrine to the non-Orthodox spouse in order to give that person a better understanding of the faith and, in turn, to make that person more comfortable about getting involved in parish life? Non-Orthodox cannot receive Holy Communion and other sacraments in the Orthodox Church. While this rule is generally understood and accepted, it also discourages parishioners from bringing their non-Orthodox spouses or family members to church. The issue of who can serve as a sponsor in baptisms is also touchy, because only members of the Orthodox Church can be ‘godfathers’ or ‘godmothers’ at Orthodox baptisms, non-Orthodox members of the family being ineligible for these roles. Predictably, intermarried couples face a wide range of issues dealing with the religious upbringing and religious choices of their children. The differences in ‘Western’ (Gregorian) and ‘Eastern’ (Julian) Church calendars combined with the strict requirements of the Orthodox Church for fasting during Lent and certain other periods of the year can also be frustrating for the ‘normal’ family, complicating social life in the mixed households. The list of the issues and challenges that the Orthodox–non-Orthodox couples and their parishes are facing is long. As Orthodox jurisdictions in America struggle with the challenges of ministering to new immigrants, integrating converts into church life and dealing with religiously mixed families, they continue to face the old question: how are they to relate to their mother churches in the Old World? During most of the twentieth century, the formal subordination of most of the Orthodox jurisdictions in America to one or another Old World patriarchate had little impact on their internal daily life. But toward the end of the century, this began to change, especially after the collapse of communism in the USSR and Eastern Europe. Ease of communications facilitated contact at all levels. Old World patriarchs, both Eastern and Oriental, made visits to their America dependencies. American-born faithful made pilgrimages to hallowed Old World sites.

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Although many Orthodox Christians in America continue to express their commitment to unity and wider outreach through the work of pan-Orthodox agencies such as International Orthodox Christian Charities (IOCC) and the Orthodox Christian Missions Centre (OCMC), the Old World mother churches have moved to strengthen their own authority and influence in America. For example, in 1997 the Patriarchate of Constantinople ushered in a protracted period of uncertainty within the Greek Orthodox Archdiocese when it forced the ageing Archbishop Iakovos into retirement and unilaterally promulgated a new archdiocesan charter. Since 2003 disagreement also has arisen between the Patriarchate of Antioch and its North American Archdiocese over the meaning of being ‘self-ruling’. While the OCA has maintained its independent status, the reconciliation of the Russian Orthodox Church outside Russia with the Moscow Patriarchate in 2008 has raised questions about the OCA’s future on both national and international levels. Clearly Orthodox Christians in America are still linked to the Orthodox churches of the Old World by powerful emotional and ecclesiastical ties. Indeed, these ties seem to be stronger now than they were a generation ago. Nevertheless, this does not rule out the possibility of greater administrative unity for Orthodoxy in America. In June 2009, representatives of the fourteen universally recognised autocephalous Orthodox churches gathered at the Centre of the Ecumenical Patriarchate in Chambésy, near Geneva, Switzerland. This Fourth Pan-Orthodox Preconciliar Conference issued an official decision concerning the so-called ‘diaspora’, which – among other things – called for the establishment of regional Assemblies of Bishops to ‘prepare the ground for a strictly canonical solution to the problem’ of the diaspora.29 In May 2010 the Assembly of Canonical Orthodox Bishops in North and Central America gathered for the first time.30 One of the Assembly’s working committees (Committee for Regional Canonical Planning) is specifically charged with the task of examining possible strategies for the greater structural unity of Orthodox churches in USA. While the Assembly of Bishops in America is similar to its predecessor, SCOBA, in that it is an advisory, consultative body, unlike SCOBA it can claim the imprimatur of the fourteen universally recognised autocephalous Orthodox churches.

How ‘ethnic’ are American Orthodox Christian churches at the beginning of the third millennium? The question of the extent to which the various American Orthodox churches can still be seen as ‘ethnically based’ religious communities remains an open one. The subject continues to be hotly debated by Orthodox church leadership and by rank-and-file clergy and laity – and for good reason. Inquiry into this question leads to many sensitive issues which have significant implications for church life, such as the use of English versus ‘ethnic’ languages in church, the presence and role of converts, parish openness to those who are ethnically and culturally ‘other’ and the retention of youth and young adults, some

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of whom are strongly attached their ethnic heritage and identity and others more inclined to blend into mainstream American life. The list of these big questions is practically endless. The membership of the Orthodox Christian churches in the United States today is made up of four very distinct demographic groups: • • • •

US-born descendants (second-, third-, fourth-, fifth-generation) of the original Greek, Slavic or Arab immigrants newly arrived immigrants who emigrated to the USA from Eastern Europe or the Middle East in recent decades American converts to Orthodox Christianity – mostly former Protestants and Roman Catholics the children of American converts: persons who were born and raised in the Orthodox Church but have no Orthodox ‘ethnic’ heritage themselves.

The proportion of these four groups varies significantly from jurisdiction to jurisdiction and – within each jurisdiction – from parish to parish. As a result, there exists great diversity among local Orthodox communities in how strongly ethnic elements in their religious and social lives are expressed. The US Orthodox parish survey conducted in 2011 under the auspices of the Assembly of Canonical Orthodox Bishops of North and Central America provides several insights into the subject of the strength of ethnic identity and ethnic culture in US Orthodox Christian churches. In this survey, each parish of jurisdictions belonging to the Assembly of Canonical Orthodox Bishops was asked to respond four questions: •

•

•

•

Please estimate the percentage of the English language used in your parish on a typical Sunday as the language of the Divine Liturgy (from 0 per cent – ‘no English used’ – to 100 per cent – ‘exclusively English used’). Please estimate the percentage of the English language used in your parish on a typical Sunday as the language of the sermon(s) (from 0 per cent – ‘no English used’ – to 100 per cent – ‘exclusively English used’). Please estimate the percentage of the English language used in your parish on a typical Sunday as the language in which church choir or chanters sing (from 0 per cent – ‘no English used’ – to 100 per cent – ‘exclusively English used’). Do you agree or disagree with the statement ‘Our parish has a strong ethnic culture and identity that we are trying to preserve’? Please, select one answer: ‘Strongly agree’; ‘Rather agree’; ‘Neutral / Unsure’; ‘Rather disagree’; ‘Strongly disagree’.

Of parishes included in the survey, 98.6 per cent responded, thus making the survey findings sound and reliable. Figure 13.1 below furnishes information on the use of the English language in worship services in the parishes of the various Orthodox jurisdictions. One

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Alexei D. Krindatch and John H. Erickson Average % of English used as language of liturgy Average % of English used as language of sermon 0%

20%

40%

60%

80%

100%

73%

All jurisdictions together

81% 96%

Carpatho-Russian Diocese

100% 94%

Antiochian Archdiocese

97% 85%

Orthodox Church in America

87% 77%

Patriarchal Parishes of Rus. Orth. Church

85% 68%

Bulgarian Diocese

68% 66%

Greek Orthodox Archdiocese

86% 63% 69%

Vicariate for Palestinian Orth. Christian Communities 52%

Ukrainian Orthodox Church

58% 49%

Russian Orth. Ch. Outside of Russia

57% 47%

Serbian Orthodox Church

57% 45%

Albanian Diocese Romanian Archdiocese

85% 25% 23%

Figure 13.1 Average percentage of use of the English language in the parishes of various Orthodox jurisdictions in the United States, 2010.

should keep in mind that the data in Figure 13.1 reflect the US national ‘average’ picture for each jurisdiction. Clearly, within each jurisdiction there are significant variations in the use of English and other languages from one parish to another. Nevertheless, several important observations can be made. First, for the entire American Orthodox community – for all parishes and for all Orthodox jurisdictions combined – English is much more widely used in church than the various ‘ethnic’ languages, whether ancient (Greek, Church Slavonic) or modern (e.g., Serbian). In the United States nationwide, the average proportion of English used as the language of the liturgy is 73 per cent. In the case of the language of the sermon, the national average for the use of English is even higher: 81 per cent. Second, in terms of the use of English versus non-English languages, the Orthodox jurisdictions in America can be divided into three categories. The first group includes three churches that use almost exclusively English as the language of the Liturgy and sermon. These churches are: the Carpatho-Russian Diocese, the Antiochian Archdiocese and the Orthodox Church in America. With regard to the latter, if we exclude the three ‘ethnic’

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OCA dioceses (Romanian Episcopate, Bulgarian Diocese and Albanian Archdiocese) from the analysis and look only at the territorial dioceses of OCA, the rate of the use of English is actually higher than Figure 13.1 indicates: 95 per cent as language of the Liturgy and 96 per cent as language of the sermon. The second group includes jurisdictions where English dominates in worship services, but other languages also have a significant presence. This is the case in the Patriarchal Parishes of the Russian Orthodox Church, the Bulgarian Diocese, the Greek Orthodox Archdiocese and the Vicariate for Palestinian Orthodox Communities. Finally, the third group consists of four jurisdictions where various non-English languages remain at least as important as English or even dominate as languages of the Liturgy and sermon. These are the Ukrainian Orthodox Church, the Russian Orthodox Church outside Russia, the Serbian Orthodox Church, the Albanian Diocese and the Romanian Archdiocese. Third, Figure 13.1 indicates a fairly consistent pattern: in all jurisdictions (the Romanian Archdiocese being the only exception) English is more widely used as the language of the sermon than as the language of the Liturgy. This makes sense. In the Liturgy, parishioners who do not understand or speak a given language can still follow by using prayer books and similar aids, but the delivery of homilies on various subjects would make no sense without clear communication between the clergy and the people present in the church. Fourth, as just noted, in almost all US Orthodox churches, English is more frequently used as the language of the sermon than as the liturgical language, but in two jurisdiction this gap is especially wide: in the Greek Orthodox Archdiocese (66 per cent average use of English in the liturgy versus as much as 87 per cent average usage of English in the sermon) and in the Albanian diocese (45 per cent and 85 per cent). What this wide gap suggests is that, compared to the other jurisdictions, the Greek Orthodox Archdiocese and the Albanian Diocese are more attached to the idea of keeping ‘traditional ethnic’ languages in the liturgy for as long as possible, even if the actual language of communication with church members – i.e. the language of the sermon – is English. In summary, survey data indicate that, in terms of the language used in worship services, the majority of parishes and most of the Orthodox jurisdictions in the United States today can be described as predominantly ‘Englishspeaking’. The exception to this rule are five jurisdictions in which various non-English languages remain either as important as English or even dominate in local church life: the Ukrainian Orthodox Church, the Russian Orthodox Church outside Russia, the Serbian Orthodox Church, the Albanian Diocese and the Romanian Archdiocese. The fact that the English language dominates in American Orthodox church life – both as the language of the Liturgy and the language of the sermon – may prompt a premature conclusion that today a solid majority of Orthodox parishes can be described as ‘American’. However, the responses of the parishes to the last question in the survey show that this is not quite the

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Alexei D. Krindatch and John H. Erickson % of parishes responding: Agree (rather or strongly)

Neutral / Unsure 0%

20%

Disagree (rather or strongly) 40%

45%

All jurisdictions combined

100% 39%

100%

Albanian Diocese 87%

Romanian Archdiocese

82%

Serbian Orthodox Church

78%

Vicariate for Palestinian Orth. Communities

18%

63%

Russian Orth. Church Outside of Russia

61%

Ukrainian Orthodox Church

58%

Bulgarian Diocese Patriarchal Parishes of Rus. Orth. Church

35%

Orthodox Church in America

35%

55%

31%

Carpatho-Russian Diocese 17%

16% 15%

10% 6%

16%

13%

24%

16%

23%

16%

14%

3% 12%

22%

66%

Greek Orthodox Archdiocese

Antiochian Archdiocese

80%

60% 16%

26% 10% 51% 53% 68%

Figure 13.2 Strength of ethnic identity in the parishes of various Orthodox jurisdictions in the United States, 2010: Do you agree or disagree with the statement ‘Our parish has a strong ethnic culture and identity that we are trying to preserve’?.

case. In essence, this question (‘Do you agree or disagree with the statement “Our parish has a strong ethnic heritage and identity that we are trying to preserve”?’) asked parishes about how they view themselves in terms of being or not being ‘ethnically based’ and about how important their ‘ethnic roots’ are to them. Figure 13.2 shows that a relative majority (45 per cent) of all US Orthodox parishes agreed with the statement ‘Our parish has a strong ethnic heritage that we are trying to preserve.’ Only 39 per cent of parishes rejected this statement and 16 per cent responded ‘neutral or unsure’. Further, in eight out of twelve jurisdictions, a strong majority of parishes agreed with the statement about ‘having a strong ethnic heritage and identity’. These jurisdictions are: the Albanian Diocese (100 per cent agreement with the statement), the Romanian Archdiocese (87 per cent), the Serbian Orthodox Church (82 per cent), the Vicariate for Palestinian Orthodox Communities (78 per cent), the Greek Orthodox Archdiocese (63 per cent), the Russian Orthodox Church outside Russia (63 per cent), the Ukrainian Orthodox Church (61 per cent) and the Bulgarian Diocese (58 per cent). By contrast, in only three jurisdictions (the Orthodox Church in America, the Antiochian Archdiocese, and the Carpatho-Russian Diocese) did an absolute majority of parishes reject this statement. Finally, one jurisdiction – the Patriarchal Parishes of the Russian Orthodox Church – presented an interesting case: a dominant majority of parishes responded that they are ‘neutral or unsure’. In short, survey data tell us that dominance of the English language in most of US Orthodox jurisdictions does not mean that local Orthodox

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parishes are in a hurry to abandon their ethnic roots and heritage. A rather strong sense of ethnic identity is still present in American Orthodox Christian churches.

Conclusion The Orthodox Christian community in America can be described as a complex and internally diverse family of churches, which are linked by a common faith and spiritual tradition but mutually distinguished by a myriad of practices and customs reflective of their diverse histories and cultural circumstances. Over the last half-century, Orthodox Christians in America have experienced a renewed sense of mission and outreach. They have rejoiced in the achievements of St Herman of Alaska, St Innocent Veniaminov and other early missionary figures. They have welcomed numerous converts from diverse backgrounds into their churches. They have adopted the use of English widely, even for liturgical purposes. At the same time, in terms of organisation, Orthodoxy in America remains a loosely affiliated collection of ‘jurisdictions’, which in most cases are more closely linked to various national ‘mother churches’ in the Old World than they are to one another. Today as in the past, all of them face the challenge of adapting to the American context and reaching out in witness and mission, but without sacrificing their Old World cultural and spiritual heritage. How they will respond to this challenge, given demographic changes in America, political changes on the global level and developments in relations between mother churches in the Old World, remains to be seen.

Appendix For detailed data on hierarchs, publications and congregations see the tables in this chapter and the websites of the various Orthodox jurisdictions. In addition useful web resources include: •

•

•

•

http://www.orthodoxhistory.org: An extensive website with publications on the history of Orthodox Christianity in America and numerous links to other web-based resources. Also serves as official website of the Society for Orthodox Christian History in the Americas. http://www.orthodoxreality.org: Statistical and demographic data, ongoing survey-based research and studies on the present situation of American Orthodox Christian Churches, their members and clergy. http://www.aoiusa.org: A website of the ‘American Orthodox Institute’. Short articles, blog and discussions on different issues in Orthodox Church life in general and in America, in particular. http://www.ocl.org: A website of the Orthodox Christian Laity, a US-based pan-Orthodox organisation that promotes a greater role of laity in the Orthodox church life.

276 •

•

•

•

Alexei D. Krindatch and John H. Erickson www.myocn.net: A website of the Orthodox Christian Network, an Orthodox internet mass-media agency. It offers internet radio, online video, podcasts, articles and blog. www.ancientfaith.com: A website of the ‘Ancient Faith Radio’. It provides high quality twenty-four-hour internet-based Orthodox radio and on-demand podcasts. ‘Ancient Faith Radio’ features liturgical music from a variety of Orthodox traditions, prayers, lectures and interviews. www.orthodoxresearchinstitute.org: A website of the Orthodox Research Institute. It serves in particular the needs of English-speaking Orthodox Christians and those non-Orthodox people interested in learning more about the Orthodox Faith. www.assemblyofbishops.org/news/research: Data from studies, research and statistics of the official website of the Assembly of Canonical Orthodox Bishops of North and Central America.

Population In 2013, the US population was estimated at around 316.6 million. The CIA World Factbook provides the following religious affiliation figures in 2007: Protestant 51.3 per cent, Roman Catholic 23.9 per cent, Mormon 1.7 per cent, other Christian 1.6 per cent, Jewish 1.7 per cent, Buddhist 0.7 per cent, Muslim 0.6 per cent, other or unspecified 2.5 per cent, unaffiliated 12.1 per cent, none 4 per cent.31

Acknowledgements This chapter draws on several previous studies by its authors, including A. Krindatch (ed.), Atlas of American Orthodox Christian Churches (Brookline, MA: Holy Cross Orthodox Press, 2011), The Orthodox Church Today: A National Study of Parishioners and the Realities of the Orthodox Parish Life in the USA (Berkeley, CA: Patriarch Athenagoras Orthodox Institute, 2008), available at www.orthodoxreality.org (accessed 30 January 2012), and ‘The Orthodox (Eastern Christian) Churches in the United States at the Beginning of a New Millennium: Questions of Nature, Identity and Mission’, Journal for the Scientific Study of Religion, 2002, 41 (3), 533–65; and J. Erickson, ‘Eastern Orthodox Christianity in America’, in S. Stein (ed.), Cambridge History of Religions in America, vol. 2 (Cambridge and New York: Cambridge University Press, 2012), J. Erickson, ‘Orthodox Christianity in America: One Faith, Many Stories’, in Krindatch (ed.), Atlas of American Orthodox Christian Churches, pp. 8–20, and J. Erickson, Orthodox Christians in America: A Short History, 2nd rev. edn (New York: Oxford University Press, 2008).

Notes 1 For further information on Orthodoxy and Orthodox parish life in America, besides the more specialised works cited elsewhere in this chapter, see Thomas E.

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2

3 4 5 6 7

8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16

17

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FitzGerald, The Orthodox Church, Denominations in America 7, Westport, CT: Greenwood Press, 1995; Constance J. Tarasar (ed.), Orthodox America, 1794–1976: Development of the Orthodox Church in America, Syosset, NY: The Orthodox Church in America, 1975; Mark Stokoe and Leonid Kishkovsky, Orthodox Christians in America, 1794–1994, Syosset, NY: Orthodox Christian Publications Center, 1995; and Anton Vrame (ed.), The Orthodox Parish in America, Brookline, MA: Holy Cross Orthodox Press, 2003. The division between these two families of churches arose from disagreement over Christological doctrine as defined at the Council of Chalcedon (AD 451), hence the term ‘Chalcedonian’ is often used for the Byzantine or Eastern Orthodox and ‘Non-Chalcedonian’ or ‘Pre-Chalcedonian’ for the Oriental Orthodox. Although formally separated since the fifth century, the two church families continue to share a common ethos and spiritual tradition, and today theologians and church leaders on both sides generally agree that differences between them are more semantic than they are substantive. The word ‘jurisdiction’ is commonly used within the American Orthodox community, rather than the Protestant term ‘denomination’, to describe a (national) Orthodox church body. These three ‘Russian’ cathedrals belong to the Orthodox Church in America, the Russian Orthodox Church outside Russia and the Patriarchal Parishes of the Russian Orthodox Church. Nicholas Chapman, ‘Orthodoxy in Colonial Virginia’, at http://orthodoxhistory. org/2009/11/23/orthodoxy-in-colonial-virginia/ (accessed 12 March 2011). On New Smyrna see most recently Matthew Namee, ‘Greeks in Florida, 1768’, at http://orthodoxhistory.org/tag/new-smyrna/ (accessed 27 January 2012). On Orthodoxy in Alaska see most conveniently Michael Oleksa, Orthodox Alaska: A Theology of Mission, Crestwood, NY: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 1992. Still valuable is the older work of Gregory Afonsky, A History of the Orthodox Church in Alaska (1794–1917), Kodiak, AK: St. Herman’s Seminary Press, 1974. Quoted in Paul Garrett, St. Innocent, Apostle to America, Crestwood, NY: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 1979, pp. 275–7. Report to the Holy Synod for 1902, in J. Erickson, Orthodox Christians in America: A Short History, 2nd rev. edn, New York: Oxford University Press, 2008, p. 50. For further perspectives on this period see J. Erickson, ‘Slavophile Thought and Conceptions of Mission in the Russian North American Archdiocese, Late 19th– Early 20th Century’, St Vladimir’s Theological Quarterly, 2012, 55, 245–68. ‘Documents: Tikhon as Archbishop in America and Patriarch’, St. Vladimir’s Theological Quarterly, 1975, 19, p. 49. The encounter between Fr Toth and Archbishop Ireland is recounted in Erickson, Orthodox Christians, pp. 56–7. Archbishop Evdokim Meschchersky’s report to the Holy Synod for 1916, in Erickson, Orthodox Christians, p. 47. Tarasar, Orthodox America, p. 185. For more on the latter group, see especially Lawrence Barriger, Glory to Jesus Christ: A History of the Carpatho-Russian Diocese, Brookline, MA: Holy Cross Orthodox Press, 2000. Among other things, Archbishop Iakovos gained nation-wide attention when he joined Martin Luther King, Jr in the famous civil rights march on Selma, AL, in 1965. A photograph of Archbishop Iakovos and Dr King appeared on the cover of Life magazine. On efforts for Orthodox unity throughout this period see Serafim Surrency, The Quest for Orthodoxy Unity in America, New York: Sts. Boris and Gleb Press, 1973. On the work of the most productive of the ecumenical dialogues in which

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18 19 20 21

22 23

24

25 26

27 28

29

30

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the Orthodox in America have been involved, see J. Borelli and J. Erickson (eds), The Quest for Unity: Orthodox and Catholics in Dialogue, Crestwood, NY and Washington, DC: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press and United States Catholic Conference, 1996. Tarasar, Orthodox America, p. 263. The first church building in America originally constructed as a Syrian Orthodox church was the Virgin Mary Church in West New York, NJ, which was consecrated in 1927. The Diocese of the Armenian Church for the New World was established by Catholicos of Etchmiadzin Mgrdich Khrimian in 1898. The Archdiocese of the Syrian Orthodox Church in the United States was created in 1957. On Eastern Orthodox–Oriental Orthodox relations globally and in America, see most conveniently Thomas FitzGerald and Emmanuel Gratsias (eds), Restoring the Unity in Faith: The Orthodox–Oriental Orthodox Theological Dialogue, Brookline, MA: Holy Cross Orthodox Press, 2007, published under the auspices of the North American Joint Commission of Eastern and Oriental Orthodox Churches. Krindatch, The Orthodox Church Today. See Peter Gillquist, Becoming Orthodox: A Journey to the Ancient Christian Faith, Ben Lomond, CA: Conciliar Press, 2001 and D. Oliver Herbel, Turning to Tradition: Converts and the Making of An American Orthodox Church, New York: Oxford University Press, 2014. On this group see Philip C. Lucas, The Odyssey of a New Religion: The Holy Order of MANS from New Age to Orthodoxy, Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1995, and ‘Enfants Terribles: The Challenge of Sectarian Converts to Ethnic Orthodox Churches in the United States’, Nova Religio: The Journal of Alternative and Emergent Religions, 2003, 7, 5–23. For further discussion see Paisios Bukowy Whitesides, ‘Ethnics and Evangelicals: Theological Tensions within American Orthodox Christianity’, St Vladimir’s Theological Quarterly, 1977, 41, 19–35. In the Greek Orthodox Archdiocese of America, for instance, the official registry records show that in 1963 only 22 per cent of marriages were mixed inter-Christian marriages, but in 2008, as many as 59 per cent of marriages were between Orthodox and non-Orthodox. U.S. Religious Landscape Survey. Religious Affiliation: Diverse and Dynamic, Pew Forum on Religion and Public Life 2008, available at http://religions.pewforum. org (accessed 30 January 2012). An Orthodox Christian may marry a non-Orthodox and remain a church member in a good standing only if two conditions are met: (a) the non-Orthodox partner must have been baptised in a Christian Church which baptises in the name of Holy Trinity; (b) except in very rare circumstances, the marriage ceremony must be performed by an Orthodox priest according to the Orthodox Rite of Matrimony. The 2009 meeting of the Preconciliar Conference – its first since 1986 – is part of a slow and fitful process, begun in the 1960s, that is intended to lead to convocation of a ‘Great and Holy Council of the Orthodox Church’. Some perspectives are provided by essays in George E. Matsoukas (ed.), Orthodox Christianity at the Crossroad: A Great Council of the Church – When and Why, New York and Bloomington, IN: iUniverse, 2009. For more information on the Assembly see: www.assemblyofbishops.org (accessed 30 January 2012). Among other things, this first meeting of the Assembly recommended that Orthodox bishops in Canada form a separate Assembly and that those in Mexico and Central America be aggregated to the South American Assembly – a recommendation subsequently approved by the Patriarchate of Constantinople and other affected ‘mother churches’. (When the Preconciliar Commission’s text

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on the ‘diaspora’ was originally being formulated in the early 1990s, many of the Orthodox jurisdictions in America encompassed the entire continent, not just the United States. Thus, the OCA had – and still has – dioceses in Canada and Mexico; the Antiochian Archdiocese had – and still has – a number of parishes in Canada, etc. At the time, the Greek Orthodox Archdiocese of North and South America encompassed the entire hemisphere, but in 1996 the Ecumenical Patriarchate of Constantinople split the archdiocese into four parts (America, Canada, Central America and South America), leaving only the territory of the United States as the Archdiocese of America.) 31 See: https://www.cia.gov/library/publications/the-world-factbook/geos/us.html (accessed 1 May 2013).

14 The Finnish Orthodox Church Teuvo Laitila

The Finnish Orthodox Church (FOC), whose membership makes up roughly 1 per cent of the Finnish population, represents a former bishopric of the Moscow Patriarchate. The FOC has been an autonomous church since 1923. Its autonomy was granted by the Ecumenical Patriarchate of Constantinople at the request of the Finnish government and the local Orthodox community. Initially most Finnish Orthodox lived in the Karelia region, in the southeastern part of Finland. However, after the Second World War, when Finland lost Karelia and most Orthodox believers had to immigrate from their homeland to other parts of the country, Moscow demanded that the FOC rejoin the Moscow Patriarchate as an autonomous church. The demand was connected to Soviet policy of using the Orthodox Church for its own political purposes. The matter was discussed for over a decade, until 1957, when the Russian Orthodox Church (ROC) dropped its request after a political arrangement between Finland and the Soviet Union. The communist period was characterised as a period of attempts to recruit some Orthodox clergy in the service of the Soviet intelligence while at the same time the ROC started cultivating ‘friendly’ relations with the FOC by organising visits and offering priests occasions to ‘support’ Soviet peace initiatives and other religious enterprises.1 This situation changed after the fall of the Soviet Union. This chapter focuses on the recent history of the FOC by examining its most important events as set out in official publications, and the reaction of the FOC to the new social and political challenges.

Finno-Russian relations in the late 1980s and the early 1990s In the late 1980s, with major changes in Soviet policy and ideology, many Finnish Orthodox believers, who had lived their childhood in the ceded Karelia region, seized the opportunity to visit their birthplaces. Several Finnish Orthodox priests began officiating at services in Karelia, partly because there were not enough local clergy to do so. This process occurred in agreement with the ROC, as, according to statistics, in the mid-1990s, nearly half of the fifty parishes lacked priests in Karelia.2

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Another change was visible in the field of monasticism. During the Second World War, Finland evacuated the two monasteries on the Lake Ladogan islands, Valaam and Konevets, which then were part of Finland. Both were relocated to the province of Savo, Eastern Finland, where the Brotherhood of Konevets eventually died out, while Valaam slowly recovered. Ladogan Karelia was annexed to the Soviet Union. The Soviet government turned the monastic complex on Lagoda to secular use. In 1990 the ROC was allowed to use the building for religious purposes and two years later it was fully returned to the Russian Orthodox Church. For Finland this created a technical problem. Now that the ‘original’ Valaam was restored, what would be its relation to its ‘replica’ in Finland? At first, this situation seemed to create no discord. Karelians and their descendants were keen on the ‘return of religion’ in Russia. A significant number of Orthodox and Lutheran Finns visited the monastery islands either as tourists or as volunteers to help with the restoration of the monasteries. Moreover, the Valaam in Finland returned its archival material evacuated during the war to the Valaam on Ladoga. However, this modus vivendi did not last very long. In 1991 a few monks in the Ladogan Valaam voiced their criticism of the Finnish Orthodox visitors, regarding them as heretics, allegedly on account of their adherence to the Gregorian calendar used by the FOC since Finnish independence. The matter was discussed between the Valaam and the FOC leadership but was not resolved. In late 1993, the annual number of Finnish tourists to Valaam was reported to be around 8,000 people, most of them not Orthodox believers.3 However, the negative attitude towards the Finnish Orthodox continued until 2005, when the most vociferous critics finally quietened down.4 In general, Finno-Russian Orthodox relations seemed to continue the pre1991 ‘good neighbourhood policy’. As an example of this diplomatic contact, when the new Patriarch of Moscow, Aleksii II, visited Finland in September 1994, he promised to remember the Finnish Orthodox in his prayers.5 Another aspect of Finno-Russian relations was the growth in immigration from the former countries of the Soviet Union to Finland. This significantly increased the size of the Russian-speaking population,6 which in 2012 numbered around 60,000 people. Most Russian-speakers remain unaffiliated religiously to any church,7 but they figure prominently among the around 500 to 1,000 people who yearly have joined the FOC.8 However, at the same time, around 300 to 700 people leave the FOC on an annual basis, with more people leaving and fewer joining in recent years. Combined with the fact that in Finland deaths outnumber births, it may be that, despite the input of the immigrants, within a few years the total number of Finnish Orthodox believers will start to decrease again, as in the first decades after the Second World War.9 The FOC leadership has clearly understood the significance of immigration. In the summer of 1991 the FOC’s Synod adopted guidelines for the immigrants’ spiritual integration; however, it has been slow in putting the new directives into practice.10 It may be that the many Orthodox, although

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themselves migrants or descendants of migrants within the borders of present Finland, are affected by xenophobia and racism which has grown with the increase of foreign population, not only from the former Soviet Union but also from various Islamic countries. Nevertheless, particularly in southern and southeastern Finland some parishes have managed to bring migrants into contact with the parish and to incorporate them in their communities as, for example, teachers of Orthodox religion.11 The response of the FOC was clearly visible in 2002, when the Orthodox bishopric of Helsinki established a post for a Russian-speaking priest whose task was to take pastoral care of the Russian-speaking population in Finland.12 The growth of Russian-speaking inhabitants in Finland has also encouraged the ROC to establish separate parishes.13 The ROC already had two parishes, both of them in Helsinki. Before the collapse of the Soviet Union, the numbers of Russian believers was in decline; however, after 1990 its membership started to grow. At the end of 2003 these parishes had around 1,300 faithful and in 2012 around 2,800. Paradoxically, the increasing number of Russian parishes was also supported by a number of Finnish-speaking Orthodox believers14 who opposed the FOC’s ‘excessive’ ecumenism and criticised its ‘diluted’ liturgical life.15

Conflict with the Russian Orthodox Church The politics of Finno-Russian friendship of the early 1990s was affected by the re-establishment of the Estonian Orthodox Church under Constantinople. Originally, both the FOC and the Estonian Church had been bishoprics of the Russian Orthodox Church. The Patriarch of Moscow, Tikhon (Bellavin), granted both of them autonomy in 1920, after the independence of Finland and Estonia. Political developments in Russia meant that both new churches severed their ties with the Russian Orthodox Church and secured their autonomy from the Patriarchate of Constantinople in July 1923. After the Second World War, the autonomous Estonian Church, consisting of both Estonian- and Russian-speaking members, was dismantled and reorganised as a bishopric of the ROC. When Estonia regained independence in 1991, the Estonian-speaking Orthodox, as well as some Estonian politicians, demanded the restoration of a full autonomous church, and in February 1996, Constantinople regranted autonomy. However, in 1993 the ROC had acknowledged a number of parishes as an Estonian Autonomous Church. After Constantinople’s decision, the ROC decided to suspend its Eucharistic communion with Constantinople. Estonia lacked suitable clergy and the Ecumenical Patriarchate appointed, in 1996, the Archbishop of Finland, Johannes (Rinne), as the temporary head of the Estonian Church under Constantinople, a position he retained until 1999. The Russian Orthodox Church took this decision as an affront. Moreover, the ROC had a number of issues to complain about. One was economic, with the Estonian state returning the immovable property confiscated

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under the communist period to the Constantinopolitan Church, irrespective of the fact that a majority of Orthodox parishes in Estonia remained loyal to Moscow. Another reason was the political rivalry between Moscow and Constantinople in various parts of the former communist world, particularly in Ukraine; Moscow considered the re-establishment of the Estonian Church as an example that should not be followed elsewhere. The FOC was not particularly concerned about these reasons, but the appointment of Johannes resulted in a direct threat to the FOC too, because the Russian Orthodox leadership accused both the FOC and Constantinople of interfering in the ROC’s internal affairs, and therefore, severed Eucharistic communion with the FOC.16 Archbishop Johannes assumed that this was an over-nationalistic reaction on the part of the Russian Church.17 Johannes might have been right, although the Russian point was canonical: it argued that two Orthodox churches should not exist within the same state.18 However, the issue also divided the FOC leadership: Metropolitan Leo (Makkonen) of Oulu adopted a more conciliatory attitude towards the ROC than Archbishop Johannes.19 As a result, in March 1996, in an interview with a Finnish Orthodox journalist, Patriarch Aleksii of Moscow used a conciliatory tone.20 However, the Estonian developments made the ROC withdraw from the Preparatory Committee for the establishment of the Holy and Great Council, which was established in 1976 and aimed to address intra-Orthodox dogmatic and practical matters. Nevertheless, the cleavage at the highest level did not break FinnoRussian grassroots contacts, and the most acute crisis wore off quickly after Constantinople and Moscow formally agreed upon the Estonian situation in May 1996.21 However, the Moscow Patriarchate’s relations with Archbishop Johannes remained relatively cold and the ROC evidently never fully forgave his ‘intervention’. Relations between the FOC and the ROC improved slightly after Johannes’s retirement and the election of Metropolitan Leo of Oulu as Archbishop in 2001.22 In retrospect, the most important consequence of the crisis was the remarkable increase of sympathy towards the Estonian Orthodox Church under Constantinople that materialised among the Finnish-speaking Orthodox. However, the crisis also deepened the division between adherents to Greek (or Constantinopolitan) and Russian traditions among the Finnish Orthodox, which originated in the 1920s.23

The FOC and other churches and religions A trend typical for the FOC has been rather intensive mutual, or, as it is often called, ecumenical, dialogue with the Finnish Lutheran Church since 1989. Representatives, selected by the leadership of each church, have met every other year with a break between 2001 and 2006. The main theme of the discussions has been pastoral matters, with the most recent focusing on religions and religious language (in 2009), the interpretation of the Bible within the teachings of the Church, the issues of ecology and the Christian

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way of living (in 2010).24 From an official perspective, ecumenism has been hailed as an important and fruitful activity; however, a number of laymen and lower clergy have expressed disagreement and refused to accept joint events between the Orthodox and the Lutherans, ranging from shared prayers at Christmas or Easter to co-operation in pastoral care in hospitals.25 This divergence implies differences in official and popular understanding of Orthodox identity and problems in creating and maintaining an Orthodox identity for a small minority. The FOC remains open to other religious traditions, but popular views emphasise a stricter adherence to ‘genuine’ Orthodoxy. At the grassroots level, in spite of decades of ecumenism, many non-Orthodox Finns do not know much about the FOC and may easily have a negative attitude towards Orthodox believers. The same can be said, mutatis mutantis, of the Orthodox.26 However, despite grassroots misconceptions, ecumenism has flourished and has been encouraged by the Finnish government, which decided in 1998 that public services celebrated in Helsinki in the main Lutheran cathedral on the Finnish Day of Independence (6 December) and at the opening and the ending of the parliamentary sessions be co-celebrated by Lutheran, Orthodox and Catholic clergy.27 At the international level, Archbishop Johannes had continued to follow an ecumenical policy. In 1990, he was the only Orthodox representative at the Joint Working Group between the World Council of Churches (WCC) and the Catholic Church which consisted of 24 members.28 The group was established in 1965 by the Second Vatican Council in order to improve relations, the so-called ‘dialogue of life’ between the Catholic Church and the WCC. The sixth meeting in 1990 dealt with themes on the local and universal Church and the ‘hierarchy of truths’ from an ecumenical perspective.29 However, despite the Archbishop’s presence at this joint group, the issues discussed had no noticeable impact on the FOC. In 2004, after his retirement, Johannes was appointed a member of the permanent Synod of the Ecumenical Patriarchate. The appointment was part of the Synod’s structural transformation. Until 2004, the Synod consisted of the patriarch and twelve bishops living in Turkey; since then six bishops under Constantinople’s jurisdiction outside Turkey are elected for a period of one year.30 Another key figure of the FOC, Metropolitan Ambrosius (Jääskeläinen) of Helsinki, has been a member of the Joint International Commission for Theological Dialogue between the Catholic Church and the Orthodox Church for three decades. The Commission was established on the initiative of the Holy See and the Ecumenical Patriarchate. It met for the first time in 1980 on the islands of Patmos and Rhodes;31 more recently, the twelfth plenary session took place in Vienna in 2010. Ambrosius has also been active in the Lutheran–Orthodox dialogue which was initiated by the 1968 Pan-Orthodox conference and started in the late summer of 1981 in Espoo, a town near Helsinki.32 An international setback took place in 2008, which was that, on the initiative of the ROC, only autocephalous churches were accepted for the preparation

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of the Holy and Great Council. The FOC was excluded, which resulted in the request for autocephaly resurfacing. In November 2011 at the annual general meeting of the representatives of the FOC clergy and laity Archbishop Leo officially suggested ‘opening discussions on the canonical position of the FOC’. According to Metropolitan Johannes, ten years earlier, the Ecumenical Patriarch of Constantinople had advanced the idea of autocephaly when he was asked to continue as the head of the FOC.33 The FOC has promoted itself as an international actor by founding, in April 2002, Ortaid, a body dedicated to foreign aid,34 a counterpart to the Lutheran Finn Church Aid. Although the volume of Ortaid’s work is not large, its establishment sends the public the message that the FOC, together with other churches, is working in the international social sector.35 Since the early 1990s, the FOC, the Lutheran Church and the Catholic Church in Finland have cooperated in local inter-faith encounters with Muslim and Jewish communities.36 In Finland, Muslims make up a small minority (around 50,000 people37) and relations with the FOC at both the official and grassroots levels remain relatively good.38

Social issues A change not directly related to the collapse of the Iron Curtain but emerging in recent years has been the growing self-assurance of Finnish Orthodox women. Already during the Second World War the FOC leadership singled out the importance of women in Orthodox life.39 During Archbishop Johannes’s leadership, from 1987 to 2001, women were encouraged to take a more active part in the Church. This new initiative began in spring 1989 at a meeting of Orthodox women in Cairo, organised under the auspices of a WCC programme which ended in 1998. In February 1990 a women’s working group was founded under the supervision of Archbishop Johannes which was particularly active among adult converts to Orthodoxy.40 The support of Archbishop Johannes for the role of women in the Church was evident at the September 1993 meeting of the women’s working group when he stated that ‘we have not gathered to make a revolution but to examine what the [Orthodox] Church teaches [about the role of women]’.41 However, this cautious approach contradicted the WCC’s objective to increase the number of women in ecclesiastical administration.42 In response, in March 1998, the Church established a permanent women’s group composed of the Archbishop as chair and four female members.43 Finnish women’s responses have been diverse. Some have followed Archbishop Johannes in criticising WCC objectives as essentially foreign to the Orthodox ethos and as a possible avenue through which secular influences may enter the Church.44 Others have pointed out that the division of labour within the Church, or the barring of women from leading roles in the Church, is culturally constructed, not God-given.45 Nevertheless, as pointed out by the professor of patristics at the University of Eastern Finland, ‘the Church lives through women; men can merely boast by their priesthood’.46

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Another social issue, which the FOC has evidently not regarded as important, but which a number of laymen have raised in recent years, concerns the Church’s view on what is known as the ‘Queer Question’. Traditionally the FOC has drawn a veil over this issue. The matter was first made public within the FOC in 1990 by the Finnish Orthodox youth magazine Logos, which published an interview with an anonymous, religiously active Orthodox homosexual, who stated that the Church has kept its mouth shut on homosexuals. The article was not commented upon.47 However, two years later the Finnish Ministry of Justice officially asked the opinion of the Bishops’ Synod on marriage. The bishops strongly defended ‘traditional’ matrimony between a man and a woman and declined other kinds of civil partnerships. Archbishop Johannes restated this view in autumn 1995, when he was asked to comment on the matter.48 Orthodox journalist Tapani Kärkkäinen’s article49 on the blessing of unions between men practised, until about the thirteenth century, in various local Orthodox churches invoked merely one, disapproving, comment on the publication of such an article, and, moreover, during Lent.50 Eight years later, in May 2005, a local pastor and laymen organised in Espoo a seminar on ‘The Church and Sexual Minorities’. The participants took an affirmative stand, showing that some members of the FOC were willing to break the silence on the Queer Question.51 However, since Jukka Korpela, professor of history at the University of Eastern Finland, a deacon of the FOC, published a book on the five blessings of marriage in 2011, there has been no further public discussion.52 Since 1990 ecological issues have been a constant part of ecumenical discussion, particularly in relations with the WCC and with the Patriarch of Constantinople, Bartholomew, also known as the ‘green patriarch’. Within the FOC, the need for a more ecological lifestyle has been duly recognised for both laymen and clergy. However, as an institution the FOC has supported ecological initiatives more at a rhetorical level53 than in reality. One of the first concrete ecological deeds was the recommendation in January 2007 that church employees use the train and public transport rather their own cars.54 In 2009, some active members of the FOC presented their views on ecological issues in the national journal Aamun Koitto [The Dawn].55 This statement was followed by the publication of the FOC’s ecological directives in 2010,56 which followed the theme of the national meeting of the FOC, ‘The Church – the Hope of the Creation’, and the visit to Finland of Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew. Slowly, the ecological vision seems to gain a foothold within the FOC.

Educational issues Teaching the Orthodox religion in schools has been guaranteed by Finnish legislation since the country’s independence in 1917. Schools have had to organise Orthodox classes if a certain number of pupils belong to the Orthodox Church and if their parents insist on their religious education. However, not

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all parents have followed this rule and each year dozens of pupils have chosen not to attend Orthodox lessons. As religious education is mandatory for those who belong to some Christian denomination, it has meant that pupils have had to attend the lessons of the main religious confession, the Lutheran Church.57 Religious education has suffered various problems. One has been the lack of appropriate textbooks and, until recently, formally qualified teachers. Books produced in the early 1970s were used for more than three decades, with new ones only appearing in 2005. Many teachers, most of whom cover several schools because pupils are scattered unevenly in different places and only a few schools have full-time teachers of Orthodox religion, prepare supplements of their own. Some parishes have implemented distance teaching through the internet and a website was set up to support teaching and learning in Finnish on Orthodoxy (Ortoboxi).58 As a result of the numbers of adults joining, the FOC yearly, parishes in larger cities have organised special catechumen teaching. In addition, since the summer of 2010, some parishes have started organising summer camps which teach adults Orthodoxy.59 For teachers of religion, the most important change took place in 2003, when a new law on religious freedom came into effect. The law stated that education should be given according to the pupil’s own religion. In practice, this meant that the focus on teaching related to the pupil’s religiosity, not to membership of a particular religious group. Moreover, according to the new legislation, it is no longer necessary, in the case of Lutheran or Orthodox pupils, for the teacher to belong to the relevant church.60 Another change affecting religious education was the discontinuation, seventy years after its establishment, of the Finnish Orthodox priest seminary in 1988 and its transformation into the Department of Orthodox Theology, located at the University of Joensuu in Eastern Finland. In 2002, the department was reorganised as a Theological Faculty. The latest reorganisation took place in 2010, when the universities of Joensuu and Kuopio merged, founding the University of Eastern Finland. Within the new institution, Orthodox theology exists as a small department within the School of Theology, which in turn is part of the Faculty of Philosophy. The department educates the FOC’s priests and cantors and teachers of Orthodox religion in schools. In addition to university-educated priests, the FOC also has part-time clergy consecrated by bishops but often not possessing a religious education. This situation has caused problems in those cases where members of the clergy were employed to be in charge of parishes. A study carried out at the Department of Orthodox Theology in 2010 criticised the FOC leadership for not demanding that these priests also obtain an adequate education.61

Church, state and politics From the perspective of church–state relations, the most important change took place in January 2007, when a new law on the Finnish Orthodox

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Church came into effect.62 The previous legislation dated back to 1969. The new legislation aimed at improving the FOC’s economic and administrative functions by outlining the basic structures of the Church and by ruling that the Church is free to define its administrative structure.63 The legislation created a new body, the ‘bishopric council’, for each of the three Finnish Orthodox bishoprics. Similar legislation on the Finnish Lutheran Church had been promulgated in 1994. In 2009, a well-known Finnish Orthodox member of the clergy, Fr Mitro Repo, caused a sensation and unease among his superiors by taking part in the EU parliamentary election campaign. The FOC’s Synod stated that a member of the clergy could not become involved in secular politics and, on the basis of interpreting church canons, prohibited Mitro from celebrating the liturgy during the campaign.64 His campaign focused on criticism of the power of money and the demand for a just society.65 After Mitro’s election as the first MEP/Orthodox priest the prohibition from officiating was extended to his whole tenure. However, Finnish media criticised the prohibition as a violation of human rights. Behind the scenes it has been argued that the FOC leadership was not against Mitro’s political activities, but against his party preferences, the Social Democrats, although in the elections he presented himself as an independent candidate. The truth may be somewhere in between. It seems that the FOC leadership was associated with politicians, although not publicly. When Mitro made this issue public, it was criticised as an ‘uncanonical’ act.66 Mitro pointed out that previously a small number of Orthodox clergy were allowed to be involved in political campaigns without hindrance.67 An incident attracting public attention took place on 9 November 2011, when the FOC’s official website reported that Archbishop Leo ‘released’ the hegumen of the New Valaam Monastery at Heinävesi, Sergei, from his duties as head of the monastery. The official reason given was to revise the monastery’s economic resources,68 implying that Sergei may have been a bad treasurer. However, according to unofficial sources, a few days previously Sergei had fired the monastery’s treasurer, who had held the position since spring 2009 and who had previously had a long career in the service of a travel agency. A few days later a layman launched an internet campaign supporting Sergei’s cause. This, in turn, was condemned by a press release issued by the Valaam Brotherhood which affirmed its support for the dismissal. A few days after this, a well-known female leader of a Finnish charismatic group complained about Sergei’s treatment to the Attorney General.69 In December 2012, Hegumen Sergei was reinstalled.

Conclusion While since 1991 the FOC’s relations with the state and the Lutheran Church have generally been positive, the Church’s venture into the secular world of everyday politics has not been very successful. During the Cold War the FOC failed to see clearly the true world situation and was taken by surprise

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by sudden social and political changes, such as the arrival of a relatively significant number of immigrants and Finland’s passage from a stable bilateral economy to neo-liberalism. The Finnish state and the Lutheran Church have both supported the presence of traditional Orthodoxy; however, the rapidly changing society with its ‘hard’, currency-based, values and a new generation of better-educated Orthodox laity question the contemporary value of traditionalism, which is not willing to re-evaluate itself.

Appendix 1

Religious leaders

• •

Archbishop Johannes (Rinne) (1923–2010), in office 1987–2001 Archbishop Leo (Makkonen) (1948–), in office 2001–.

2

Biography

Title: Archbishop of Karelia and All Finland. Archbishop Leo (Makkonen) was born on 4 June 1948 in Pielavesi, midEastern Finland. After attended the Orthodox Priest Seminary in Kuopio, he served as a travelling priest from 1973 to 1979.70 After the death of his wife in 1977, in 1979 he was elected an auxiliary bishop. When the third diocese of the FOC was established in 1980, he was elected Metropolitan of Oulu. Sixteen years later, after the death of Metropolitan Tiihon of Helsinki, Leo replaced him and in October 2001 he was enthroned as Archbishop of Karelia and All Finland. In 1995 he graduated in theology (Master of Divinities) from the Department of Orthodox Theology, University of Joensuu (the current University of Eastern Finland).71 3 •

Theological publications72

•

Aamun Koitto [The Dawn], a monthly magazine, since 2011 appearing five times a year Ortodoksia [Orthodoxy], a biannual journal St Isaac’s News, a quarterly magazine of the international community within the Helsinki Orthodox parish Tuohustuli [Candlelight], a periodical for children.

4

Congregations

• •

Structure of the Church:73 3 bishoprics (Karelia, Helsinki, and Oulu) and 23 parishes. Number of clergy and church buildings:74 4 bishops, 43 full-time parish priests, 2 full-time deacons, 35 full-time cantors, around 100 workers, including

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teachers of religion, 7 monastic clergy; 12 nuns; 71 churches, of which 24 are the main churches of a specific parish, and 76 prayer-houses/chapels.75 5

Population76

In 2012 Finland had 58,700 Orthodox believers (2,700 more than in 1990) out of a total population of 5,375,000. At the end of 2012, the number of foreigners in Finland totalled 195,500, of which the largest groups were Estonians (34,000) and Russians (29,600), followed by Swedes (8,500), Somalis (7,700), Chinese (6,100) and Thai (5,500). The largest number of naturalised foreigners are Russians (between 1,000 and 2,000 yearly), followed by Estonians (fewer than 200 yearly). The 2012 census stated that 76.4 per cent of the population belonged to the Lutheran Church, 1.1 per cent to the Orthodox Church and 1.3 per cent to other religions, while 21.2 per cent did not belong to any religion.77 Other significant religious confessions are the Roman Catholic Church with 11,530 believers,78 the Jewish community with 1,188 believers,79 almost all of whom live in Helsinki, and Muslims, numbering some 50,000. The latter have more than 70 registered communities all over Finland, the largest two of which are located in Helsinki, each of which has just over 1,000 members.80

Notes 1 Teuvo Laitila, ‘The Finnish Orthodox Church’, in Eastern Christianity and the Cold War, 1945–91, Lucian N. Leustean (ed.), Abingdon: Routledge, 2010, pp. 282–94. 2 Aamun Koitto [The Dawn, henceforth AK, the main journal of the FOC], 1991, 7, pp. 138–40; Elias Huurinainen, ‘Karjalaisten uskonnon nykytila’ [The Present Situation of Karelians Today], in Koltat, karjalaiset ja setukaiset: pienet kansat maailmojen rajoilla [The Skolts, the Karelians, and the Setus: Small People on the Border of Worlds], Tuija Saarinen and Seppo Suhonen (eds), Kuopio: Snellmaninstituutti, 1995, p. 106. 3 Konevitsan uudelleensyntyminen [The Rebirth of the Konevets Monastery], Archmandrite Arseni (ed.), Helsinki: Konevitsa ry, 2002; AK, 1990, 6, pp. 91–2, 106; AK, 1991, 13–14, p. 271; AK, 1991, 15, p. 294; AK, 1994, 4, p. 19. 4 AK, 2005, 17, pp. 12–13. 5 AK, 1994, 19, p. 7. 6 Many of them are ethnic Russians, but there are also others, for example, a significant number of Ingrians. 7 See AK, 2007, 23–24, p. 11. 8 It should also be noted that Finns, usually with a Lutheran background, have joined the FOC. 9 AK, 2011, 5, pp. 28–9; Ortodoksisen kirkon vuosikatsaus 2010 [Yearly Survey of the FOC, 2010], at http://www.ort.fi/fi/content/ortodoksisen-kirkon-vuosikatsaus-2010 (accessed 22 September 2011). 10 In April 2009 the FOC was still mainly discussing and thinking about the matter. See AK, 2009, 10, p. 6. In November 2011 the annual general assembly of the FOC stressed that active work with immigrants should be an essential part of the FOC’s and her parishes’ functioning: http://www.ort.fi/kirkolliskokous/kirkolliskokous2011-neljaes-taeysistunto (accessed 2 December 2011).

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11 For example, AK, 2003, 23–24, p. 25; AK, 2004, 21, pp. 20–2; Analogi [Analogy, a joint publication of the Orthodox parishes of Tampere, Turku and Hämeenlinna], 2006, 2, p. 33; 2010, 1, pp. 9–11. 12 AK, 1993,10, pp. 18–19; AK, 1993, 20, pp. 6–7; AK, 1996,15, pp. 11–13; AK, 1997,17, pp. 18–20; AK, 2002,11, p. 10. On racism in Finland see Vesa Puuronen, Rasistinen Suomi [Racist Finland], Helsinki: Gaudeamus, 2011. 13 In September 2008, the ROC consecrated a church (St Alexander Nevsky) in Pori, on the southwestern coast of Finland. In practice this meant the establishment of a new parish. See AK, 2008, 17, p. 8. There has been similar activity in some other parts of Finland as well, for example in the southern Finnish cities of Turku and Tampere. See Analogi, 2004, 5, pp. 2, 5, Cf. AK, 2005, 1, pp. 6–7, for a Russian point of view. 14 AK, 1997, 2, pp. 8–11; AK, 1998, 23–24, p. 29; AK, 2002, 1, p. 28; AK, 2003, 13, p. 6; http://www.uskonnot.fi/yhteisot/view?orgId=459 and http://www.uskonnot.fi/ yhteisot/view?orgId=703 (Finnish-language pages on the two Russian parishes) (accessed 25 November 2011). 15 Cf. AK, 2007, 11, p. 20, where five Russian-speaking members of the FOC criticised ‘some phenomena’, for example homosexuality, which, according to the authors, were ‘incompatible with the Orthodox worldview’. 16 Patriarch Aleksii’s telegram to Archbishop Johannes on 23 February 1996, published in AK, 1996, 4, p. 16. 17 Archbishop’s comment on the Russian Church’s reaction, AK, 1996, 4, p. 17. 18 Metropoliitta Johannes, Bysantin luottomies [The Byzantine Trustee], Helsinki: Ajatus Kirjat, 2003, pp. 269–71. 19 AK, 1996, 4, p. 19. 20 AK, 1996, 8, pp. 24–5. 21 AK, 1996, 8, p. 29; AK, 1996, 10, p. 19. 22 During Leo’s visit to Russia in July, 2002, Patriarch Aleksii stated that thus far the ROC had called the FOC a daughter church, but henceforth she would call her a sister church. AK, 2002, 14, p. 13. 23 Cf. AK, 1996, 12, pp. 30–1; AK, 1996, 13–14, p. 17; AK, 1997, 14, pp. 12–13; AK, 1998, 2, 14–15; AK, 2008, 2, pp. 2, 12–13. 24 A historical survey is provided by Teuvo Laitila, ‘Suspicion, négligence et respect. Les relations entre l’Église luthérienne et l’Église orthodoxe en Finlande après la Seconde guerre modiale’, Istina, 2008, 53 (4), 365–79. On dialogue, see for example AK, 1996, 9, p. 10; The Finnish Lutheran–Orthodox Dialogue 1991 and 1993, Helsinki: Church Council for Foreign Affairs, 1995. Papers of the 2009 dialogue are published (in Finnish) in Reseptio, 2009, 2, 5–56, http://sakasti.evl.fi/sakasti. nsf/0/10FE7C6FC73BEDC2C22576F2004102B3/$FILE/Reseptio2_2009.pdf (accessed 16 December 2011). On the 2010 dialogue, see http://www.nettipappi. fi/EVLUutiset.nsf/Documents/410D9B88B10DF3C4C22577EA004E989C?Ope nDocument&lang=FI (a press release of the Lutheran Church on the dialogue, accessed 16 December 2011; for some reason the FOC has not reported on the dialogue since the 1990s; see for example Ortodoksia, [1996], 45, pp. 168–70). 25 See AK, 1990, 2, p. 23; AK, 1990, 4, pp. 54–5; AK, 1994, 13–14, p. 17; AK, 1997, 14, p. 24; Laitila, ‘Suspicion, négligence et respect’, passim. 26 See AK, 2000, 22, pp. 6–7. 27 AK, 1998, 23–24, p. 29. 28 AK, 1990, 5, p. 75. 29 ‘Joint Working Group between the Roman Catholic Church and the World Council of Churches: First Official Report’, Ecumenical Review, 1966, 18, 243–55; Sixth Report [of] Joint Working Group between the Roman Catholic Church and the World Council of Churches, Geneva: WCC Publications, 1990.

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30 AK, 2004, 5, p. 9; AK, 2006, 19, pp. 12–13. 31 See ‘Catholic–Orthodox Dialogue: Patmos and Rhodes’, Sobornost, 1981, 3 (1), p. 92. 32 Isä Ambrosius, ‘Kansainvälinen ortodoksis-luterilainen teologinen dialogi v. 1981 ja 1983’ [The International Orthodox–Lutheran Theological Dialogue in 1981 and 1983], Ortodoksia, 1983, 33, 96–9. 33 Arkkipiispa Leon puheenvuoro kirkolliskokouksen toisessa täysistunnossa 29. marraskuuta 2011 [The Speech of Archbishop Leo in the Second Plenary Session of the Annual Meeting of the FOC on 29 November 2011], http://www.ort.fi/ kirkolliskokous/kirkolliskokous-2011-arkkipiispa-leon-puheenvuoro-0 (accessed 30 November 2011); Analogi, 2009, 1, p. 15; Metropoliitta Johannes, Bysantin luottomies, pp. 179–85. Already in 1923 the Finnish delegation in Constantinople had requested autocephaly. In 1979 and 1980 the matter was discussed again. See Laitila, ‘The Finnish Orthodox Church’, p. 292. 34 AK, 2002, 12–13, p. 17; http://kirkkotoimii.fi/ortaid/pages/in-english.php (accessed 22 November 2011). 35 On churches and the third sector see for example Anne Birgitta Yeung (ed.), Churches in Europe as Agents of Welfare, 2 vols, Uppsala: Uppsala Institute for Diaconal and Social Studies, 2006. 36 For example AK, 2003, 18, p. 21; AK, 2005, 4, p. 15. 37 See Tuomas Martikainen, ‘Täällä Pohjantähden alla – muslimeista Suomessa’ [Here under the Pole Star – on Muslims in Finland], in Mitä muslimit tarkoittavat? [What Do the Muslims Mean?], Tuomas Martikainen and Tuula Sakaranaho (eds), Turku: Savukeidas, 2011, p. 103. 38 See Puuronen, Rasistinen Suomi. 39 See Arkkipiispa Herman, Naisen voima [The Power of Women], Kuopio: Kirkollishallitus, 1942. 40 AK, 1990, 4, pp. 51–2. 41 AK, 1993, 19, p. 24. Archbishop Leo has followed this policy (Archbishop Leo, ‘Nainen ja pappeus’ [The Woman and the Priesthood], a column in Analogi, 2010, 4, p. 15. 42 See AK, 1994, 3, p. 4. See also Analogi, 2010, 4, pp. 4–7 (an interview with the Helsinki parish administrative manager, Marjatta Viirto). 43 AK, 1998, 8, pp. 30–1. 44 Cf. AK, 1999, 12–13, pp. 14–15; AK, 2000, 16, p. 19; Analogi, 2010, 4, p. 23. 45 AK, 2004, 13–14, pp. 4–7. 46 AK, 2009, 11, p. 17. The Metropolitan of Helsinki, Ambrosius, has occasionally expressed similar views (for example, Analogi, 2010, 4, p. 8). 47 The article was republished in AK, 1993, 16, pp. 19–20. 48 AK, 1995, 20, p. 23. 49 AK, 1997, 4, pp. 4–8. 50 AK, 1997, 7, p. 28. 51 AK, 2003, 16, p. 8. See also Fr Heikki Huttunen and Tapani Kärkkäinen, ‘Ortodoksinen kirkko ja homoseksuaalisuus’ [The Orthodox Church and Homosexuality], in Synti vai siunaus: homoseksuaalit, kirkko ja yhteiskunta [Sin or Blessing? Homosexuals, the Church and Society], Martti Nissinen and Liisa Tuovinen (eds), Helsinki: Kirjapaja, 2003, pp. 65–85; AK 2007, 1, pp. 16–22, where a Finnish Orthodox doctor and two homosexuals presented their views; AK, 2007, 3, pp. 14–15, where DD Hannu Pöyhönen criticised these views; and AK, 2007, 4, p. 21, where the FOC’s bishops restated their former pronouncement that the Church could not accept other types of marriage (partnership) than that between a man and a woman. In 2008, Pöyhönen expanded and explicated his view in Homoseksuaalisuus ortodoksisen perinteen valossa [Homosexuality in the Light of Orthodox Tradition], Joensuu: Pyhän Kosmas Aitolialaisen Veljestö.

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52 Jukka Korpela, Miesparin siunaaminen: viisi ortodoksista keskiaikaista rukousta [Blessing a Male Couple: Five Orthodox Prayers from the Middle Ages], Helsinki: Arator, 2011. 53 For example, Archbishop John in an article that appeared in AK, 1995, 18, pp. 3–6. 54 AK, 2007, 2, p. 7. 55 For example, AK, 2009, 14, p. 20; AK, 2009, 16, p. 20; AK, 2009, 21, p. 20. 56 See Analogi, 2009, 6, pp. 11–12; http://www.ort.fi/content/suomen-ortodoksisenkirkon-ympaeristoeohjeisto (The Ecological Directions of the FOC) (accessed 6 December 2011). 57 AK, 1990, 17, p. 319. 58 AK, 2010,16, pp. 16–17; AK, 2011, 8, pp. 26–7. Ortoboxi can be accessed at ortoboxi.fi. 59 AK, 2010, 18, pp. 4–6; AK, 2011, 1, pp. 6–7; Riina Ngyen, ‘Converts – A Challenge and a Resource for the Church’, in Orthodox Tradition and the 21st Century, Grant S. White and Teuvo Laitila (eds), Joensuu: University of Joensuu Publications in Theology, 2007, pp. 123–7. 60 Tuula Sakaranaho, Pienryhmäisten uskontojen opetus ja uskonnonvapaus [Religious Freedom and the Teaching of Religion for Religious Minorities], at http://www. teologia.fi/tutkimus/uskontojen-valiset-suhteet/60-pienryhmten-uskontojen-opetus (accessed 3 September 2011). The relevant laws (Uskonnonvapauslaki [Law on Religious Freedom, 453/2003], Peruskoululaki [Law on Comprehensive School, 454/2003] and Lukiolaki [Law on Upper Secondary School, 455/2003] are accessible at finlex.fi (accessed 3 September 2011). 61 See AK, 2010, 2, pp. 4–5; Mikko Junes, ‘Ortodoksipappien teologinen koulutus: pappien ja piispojen näkemyksiä teologisen koulutuksen merkityksestä’ [The Theological Education of Orthodox Clergy: How Priests and Bishops See the Importance of Theological Education], unpublished MA thesis in practical theology, Department of Orthodox Theology, Joensuu, 2010. 62 The law text in Finnish is at http://www.finlex.fi/fi/laki/ajantasa/2006/20060985 (accessed 15 September 2011). 63 According to the 1969 law, these matters were stipulated by state decrees. 64 AK, 2009, 11, pp. 4–5. 65 ‘Mitro Repo tarjoaa tuuletusta’ [Mitro Repo Offers an Opportunity to Air], Demari, 14 May 2009 (http://www.demari.fi/arkisto?id=5731, accessed 16 December 2011). 66 For example Aamulehti [The Morning Post], 10 May 2009 (http://aamulehdenblogit.ning.com/profiles/blogs/isae-mitron-tapaus-ja, accessed 21 September 2011). Aamulehti is a Tampere-based daily. See also Analogi, 2009, 5, pp. 10–11; New York Times, 12 June 2009 (John Tagliabue, ‘In Finland, a Man of Politics, without His Cloth’, at http://www.nytimes.com/2009/06/13/world/europe/13helsinki.html accessed 4 December 2011). 67 http://www.savonsanomat.fi/teemat/eurovaalit/mitro-repo-moni-muu-ortodoksipappi-on-saanut-asettua-ehdolle/446801 (a brief news piece giving Father Mitro’s statement that many other Finnish Orthodox priests had been allowed to stand for municipal or parliamentary elections, accessed on 16 December 2011). 68 See: http://www.ort.fi/content/valamon-luostarin-johtaja-vaihtuu, 9 November 2011 (accessed 10 November 2011). 69 See: http://www.ort.fi/content/valamon-veljestoe-tukee-arkkipiispaa, 17 November 2011 (accessed 22 November 2011); http://m.hs.fi/inf/infomo?site=hs&view=lates tchild&feed:a=hs.fi&feed:c=news&feed:i=1305549924713 and http://www.ts.fi/ online/kotimaa/280792.html (accessed 24 November 2011). 70 A travelling priest (matkapappi) is a member of the clergy without a parish of his own helping other clergy in sparsely populated areas.

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71 Petri Piiroinen (ed.), Suomen ortodoksinen pappisseminaari 1918–1978 [The Finnish Orthodox Priest Seminary, 1918–1978], Kuopio: Suomen ortodoksisen pappisseminaarin oppilasyhdistys, 1978, p. 191; http://www.ort.fi/en/content/leoarkkipiispa (official data from the FOC’s Finnish-language web page) (accessed 16 December 2011). 72 A full list of Orthodox publications in Finnish is provided by the Ortodoksinen kalenteri vuodelle 2012 [The Calendar of the FOC 2012], Kuopio: Ortodoksisen kirjallisuuden julkaisuneuvosto, 2012, pp. 193–6. In addition, there are a number of parish and diocese publications as well as publications of a number of Orthodox (but not church-run) organisations. 73 Statistics from Ortodoksinen kalenteri vuodelle 2012. 74 Statistics from Ortodoksinen kalenteri vuodelle 2012. 75 These statistics do not include the number of part-time priests and cantors. 76 Data from the 2012 census (http://www.stat.fi/tup/suoluk/suoluk_vaesto.html, väestörakenne, accessed 18 February 2014). 77 See: www.stat.fi/vaerak/2012/01/vaerak_2012_01_2013-0927.fi.pdf www.stat.fi/ tup/suoluk/suoluk_vaesto.html, ulkomaiden kansalaiset (18 February 2014). 78 See: www.stat.fi/vaerak/2012/01/vaerak_2012_01_2013-0927.fi.pdf (accessed 18 February 2014). 79 See: www.stat.fi/vaerak/2012/01/vaerak_2012_01_2013-0927.fi.pdf (accessed 18 February 2014). 80 See: http://uskonnot.fi/yhteisot/byreligion.php (accessed 18 February 2014).

15 Orthodox churches in Estonia Sebastian Rimestad

The title of this chapter, with Orthodox churches in the plural form, indicates that Estonia has not one, but two parallel Orthodox churches. Both claim to encompass the whole of Estonia, and their parishes are spread across the entire country. Just as in Moldova, both churches are autonomous parts of larger churches, in the Estonian case reporting respectively to the Patriarchate of Moscow and the Patriarchate of Constantinople. Moreover, since Orthodox Christianity is a minority faith in the largely secular Estonian society, neither of the two churches can lay claim to any kind of dominance or influence in society as a whole. An exception may be the Russian-speaking minority, on whose behalf the Estonian Orthodox Church of the Moscow Patriarchate purports to speak. However, since this minority is eyed with some suspicion in mainstream Estonian society, the Church’s influence is limited. This chapter analyses the last two decades of the history of Orthodox Christianity in Estonia in four steps. After an overview of the history of Estonian Orthodoxy, a section is devoted to the period of transition in the early 1990s, which resulted in a serious row between the Estonian Orthodox Church of the Moscow Patriarchate and the Estonian Apostolic Orthodox Church under the jurisdiction of the Patriarch of Constantinople. The third section provides a brief characterisation of both churches and analyses developments until 2005. The final section outlines current events and developments, which show that far from reconciliation the two churches are pursuing very different agendas.

Historical overview Orthodox Christianity came to Estonia in the mid-nineteenth century, when almost 100,000 Estonians, 10 per cent of the peasant population, converted from the dominant Baltic German Lutheran Church.1 The latter’s attempts to win back its ‘lost souls’ failed because conversion away from the Orthodox State Church was prohibited in the new Russian law codex of 1832. Over the second half of the nineteenth century, the struggle between the local Baltic German nobility and the Russian imperial bureaucrats for the Estonian peasantry continued, with the Baltic Germans arguably succeeding

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in depicting Russianness and Orthodoxy as backward and witless. Until Estonian independence after the First World War, the Orthodox Church in Estonia can be considered a stepchild of the nation. Although a number of important nationalists originated from Orthodox families, the Church was eyed suspiciously by the Lutheran majority and consciously belittled. By then, industrialisation, border changes and Soviet refugees had made the number of Orthodox faithful in Estonia rise to about 200,000, 20 per cent of the population, roughly one third of whom were ethnic Russians. In independent Estonia, the overtly nationalist leadership of the local Orthodox Church attempted to get rid of the stigma of backwardness by aspiring to achieve autonomy and even autocephaly. Because of the chaotic situation in the Russian Orthodox Church in the early 1920s, Archbishop Aleksander (Paulus) of Tallinn travelled to the Patriarchate of Constantinople in order to seek help. In July 1923 Constantinople decided to accept the young Estonian Church into its jurisdiction as an autonomous metropolitanate until the situation in Russia had improved. Throughout the interwar era, the Estonian Apostolic Orthodox Church (EAOC) acted as an independent church. Some of its spokespersons even considered it autocephalous.2 To pacify the ethnic Russians within the EAOC, the non-territorial Eparchy of Narva and Izborsk was set up, responsible for the Russian parishes all over Estonia. The church leadership managed to withstand all attempts by the ‘Russian faction’ to discredit it until the Second World War. Following the first Soviet occupation of Estonia in 1940, Metropolitan Aleksander of Tallinn and all Estonia was summoned to the Patriarchate of Moscow, where he publicly repented his schismatic actions and pleaded for a return to the Russian mother church. When the German Army occupied Estonia in 1941, Aleksander denied having repented and resumed his role as the head of the EAOC. At the same time, however, Metropolitan Sergii (Voznesenskii), charged with administering the Estonian and Latvian Orthodox churches as Exarch by the deputy locum tenens of the Patriarch of Moscow, Sergii (Stragorodskii), had escaped the Soviet evacuation and was still in Riga. The Germans pursued a strategy of divide and rule, allowing each parish to decide separately to which metropolitan it would subordinate. Before the second and longer Soviet occupation (1944–91), Metropolitan Aleksander and some of his clergy fled to Germany as refugees. The metropolitan ended up in Stockholm together with several other Estonian Orthodox clergy, where they set up the EAOC in exile. The remaining Orthodox faithful in Estonia joined together in the Eparchy of Tallinn under the jurisdiction of the Patriarchate of Moscow. The subsequent development of the Orthodox Church on Estonian territory is differently evaluated by different authors. Following the narrative of the late Patriarch Aleksii II (Ridiger) of Moscow, who himself started his career as a subdeacon in the Cathedral of Tallinn in 1944, before serving several decades as the Bishop of Tallinn, it was a hard struggle, but the Church nevertheless flourished.3 Other accounts describe the Soviet era as a period of

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systematic Russification, where few bright spots are discernible.4 In any case, the Russian church authorities were anxious to eradicate the interwar experience from the official memory as a historical aberration. At the same time, border changes and labour migration from other parts of the Soviet Union altered the population structure in Estonia significantly. By the time of the downfall of the Soviet Union in 1990, more than one third of the population was ethnic Russians, compared to only 8 per cent in the interwar years. Church membership in the 1980s was not statistically recorded, but Aleksii II reported more than 500 visitors at the great feasts in Tallinn Cathedral and Pühtitsa Monastery every year.5

The transition (1986–1996) In 1986, Bishop Aleksii (Ridiger) of Tallinn was named Metropolitan of Leningrad, before becoming Patriarch Aleksii II of Moscow in 1990. With hindsight, Aleksii characterised this transfer as fatal, ‘but following old Soviet traditions: I was relieved of my managerial duties at a time when they were most desperately needed … a time when the revival of ecclesiastical life in this eparchy with a unique history took place’.6 Aleksii did not want to let go of his home Eparchy of Tallinn, and remained its administrator until Kornilii (Jakobs), now Metropolitan of Tallinn in the Estonian Orthodox Church (Moscow Patriarchate), was consecrated Bishop of Tallinn in 1990.7 Aleksii remained responsible for the Estonian territory, since Kornilii had only the status of a patriarchal vicar bishop. The downfall of the Soviet Union and Estonian independence in 1991 called for a reorganisation of the local Orthodox Church. Patriarch Aleksii II granted the Tallinn Eparchy wide autonomy in 1992 and elevated Kornilii to a full bishop.8 This would probably have been the end of the transitional story, if a small nucleus of the exile church administration had not survived in Stockholm. The Orthodox exile Estonians had retained the hope of achieving justice in Estonia and the new freedoms of the Gorbachev era allowed them to start acting. At first, this meant only increased mutual contact between the exile community in Sweden and the Estonians in Estonia. The quarterly Orthodox exile journal Usk ja Elu [Faith and Life], published in Stockholm, was, for example, sent to Orthodox parishes in Estonia free of charge. The articles in this journal from 1989 to 1991 euphorically described the revival of the Orthodox community in Estonia. These narratives differ considerably from the Russian narratives, however, in that they consciously focus only on Estonians’ achievements, being little concerned with ethnic Russian actors and their activities.9 Once Estonia had become independent the articles in Usk ja Elu continued to report on changes, always keeping an eye on their historical justification. In order to understand the further developments, an excursion into the political discourse of early post-Soviet Estonia is needed. As in the other Baltic States, the idea of the Soviet era as an illegal occupation also prevailed

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in Estonia. As a consequence, everything that happened between June 1940 and the reachievement of independence was considered legally void.10 This understanding comprehensively dominated Estonian post-Soviet politics, and had important implications especially for the issue of restitution of property. Every person or organisation able to claim continuity to an interwar legal entity was entitled to all of its property as of June 1940. A division between those satisfied with the autonomy decree by Moscow Patriarch Aleksii II and those wishing to revive the interwar Estonian Apostolic Orthodox Church (EAOC) under the jurisdiction of the Constantinople Patriarchate came to the fore at the end of 1992. According to the latter group, property restitution could only happen through the EAOC in exile in Stockholm, which would not have any difficulty in claiming its legal succession to the interwar church. The official church, on the other hand, was confident that it could claim this legal succession and achieve it with its current structures, especially since in June 1992 a court had ruled in favour of recognising Bishop Kornilii and the Estonian Orthodox Church led by him as a subject of the property reforms. This decision had been taken on the basis of a declaration by the eparchial council of the Estonian Orthodox Church that it intended to claim legal succession to the interwar EAOC. According to the Russian narratives, the ‘schismatic’ group consisted of four clergy and one layman.11 According to Lawrence Uzzell of the Keston News Service, only two of these were proper activists, the young deacon Aivar Sarapik and the economist Henn Tosso, charged by the eparchial council to head the ‘EAOC-Fund’. This organisation was established in 1991 to clear the way towards property restitution, but in actual fact was working for closer ties with the Synod in exile in Stockholm.12 By the end of April 1993, the two activists had ‘gradually persuaded a majority of Estonia’s parishes to join them’.13 The persuaded parishes – 54 out of 84 – were primarily tiny Estonianlanguage parishes, served by only eleven priests in total. While the official Estonian Orthodox Church finalised its autonomy in a Local Council, presided over by Patriarch Aleksii II himself and Bishop Kornilii at the Pühtitsa Monastery in northeastern Estonia, the schismatic group organised its own council in Tallinn, which was presided over by the head of the Synod in exile, Nikolai Suursööt.14 The ‘Churches and Congregations Act’, adopted in May 1993, required all religious organisations to reregister with the Department of Religious Affairs. Tosso and Sarapik were helped by the lawyer and state functionary Ann-Mari Heljas to register their church organisation as the Estonian Apostolic Orthodox Church (EAOC), beating the official church, which had not yet started the registration process. In addition to the legal steps, a ‘war of souls’ raged in the Estonian press. Neatly divided along the linguistic border, the Estonian-language press reported on the prospects of reviving the Constantinople jurisdiction in the face of the hostile Moscow Patriarchate while the Russian-language press focused on the injustice suffered by Bishop Kornilii and the breach of canonical order of the Orthodox Church.

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When the deadline for registering religious organisations expired at the end of 1993, the EAOC, headed by the ‘Stockholm Synod’, was the only Orthodox Church registered in Estonia. All attempts by Bishop Kornilii to overturn the decision based on legal arguments had failed and he was told by the Estonian authorities that he need not hope to be able to register as the EAOC, ‘since the rights of this church in Estonia have been registered already’.15 The complaint filed with Estonian courts also failed. As a result, from 1994 there were two separate Orthodox church structures operating in Estonia. There was the tiny EAOC, politically recognised as the heir to the interwar EAOC but with an unclear canonical status, and there was the Tallinn Eparchy of the Moscow Patriarchate, with canonical certainty but lacking political and legal recognition. The second act of the Estonian ecclesiastical dispute was its internationalisation in March 1996, after Patriarch Bartholomew I of Constantinople decided to reactivate the 1923 autonomy decree for the Estonian Orthodox Church. This had been preceded by a number of attempted talks between representatives of the Patriarchates of Moscow and of Constantinople, which had not, however, yielded any results. Patriarch Aleksii II of Moscow promptly reacted by leaving the name of Patriarch Bartholomew out of the liturgy, which in the Orthodox world comes close to a break in communion. The outcry all over the world was immense.16 A compromise solution was found three months later, when each Orthodox parish in Estonia could decide for itself to which jurisdiction it wanted to belong.

The two Orthodox churches of Estonia The developments in the EAOC after 1996 were very different from those of the Estonian Orthodox Church of the Moscow Patriarchate (EOCMP) and they very seldom overlapped. The EAOC, whose post-Soviet history in most narratives begins with the reactivation of the 1923 autonomy decree by Patriarch Bartholomew of Constantinople in 1996, was a tiny structure, served by about a dozen priests and without episcopal leadership. Its subsequent history is thus a story of continuous growth. Until 1999, the EAOC was administered by Archbishop Johannes (Rinne) of Karelia and All Finland,17 who sent Heikki Huttunen, a Finnish Orthodox priest, to Estonia to help revive the Church.18 In the secular sphere, it managed to regain numerous, partly lucrative, land plots and other properties that had belonged to the interwar EAOC, thereby laying the foundations for a thriving economic life in the future. Young, promising Estonians were sent to Greece, Finland and even the USA with scholarships from the Greek and Finnish Orthodox churches as well as a number of NGOs to prepare for Orthodox priesthood.19 At the same time, the search for a suitable Estonian candidate for the episcopacy began, but without success. The ethnic Russian widowed Archpriest Simeon Kruzhkov was consecrated bishop in May 1998, but his health quickly deteriorated and he died four months later.20

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After this failed attempt to ‘indigenise’ the EAOC, the hope of finding a suitable candidate for the episcopacy locally had died and the Church instead settled on a foreign candidate. Bishop Stephanos (Charalambides) of Nazianzus, of Cypriot origin, was duly elected in March 1999 at the annual EAOC general assembly. His new title was Metropolitan of Tallinn and All Estonia and he is still at the helm of the EAOC today.21 The church leadership established the Centre of the Estonian Martyr-Bishop St Platon22 in Tallinn. This is still the focal point of the EAOC administration as well as its seminary, periodically offering three-day training sessions for the EAOC clergy. Moreover, students of theology at the non-confessional, but predominantly Lutheran-informed University of Tartu can become Orthodox priests by additionally pursuing a number of training sessions at St Platon Seminary in Tallinn. The dean of the Seminary since 2005 is the Greek-French canon law specialist Grigorios Papathomas, who has published extensively on the relationship between ethnic boundaries, territory and canon law, using Estonia as a prime example. Next to the generally positive atmosphere Metropolitan Stephanos has brought to the EAOC, there has been at least one negative occurrence: Samuel Puusaar and Gabriel Keres, two of the young priests consecrated in the interim period by the Finnish Archbishop, split with the official EAOC after the election of Stephanos. According to them, the EAOC could not be led by an ethnic Cypriot. Instead, they proclaimed Samuel Puusaar Bishop of Tartu and All South Estonia with Gabriel Keres acting as his secretary. They were shortly thereafter defrocked from their clerical ranks, to which they responded by ‘suspending’ Metropolitan Stephanos. Since then, the two ex-priests have occasionally tried to stir up public opinion in their favour, without significant success, however. The EOCMP had less of a restructuring after 1996, for it was still not registered as a religious association in Estonia and thus strictly speaking was illegal. Archbishop Kornilii23 remained steadfast in the conviction that his church was the only legitimate EAOC, appealing for help through the Russian state as well as European institutions and the European Court of Human Rights, all to no avail. The most pressing issue as an unregistered organisation was its inability to legally own property, meaning that the EOCMP congregations could in principle be thrown out of their churches at any point of time, because the legal owner in most cases was the registered EAOC. There were two important cases in which the courts did not hand Orthodox property to the EAOC: the Alexander Nevskii Cathedral in Tallinn and the Pühtitsa Monastery in Kuremäe. Both of these had been close to the heart of Patriarch Aleksii II when he was Bishop of Tallinn and both owe him their survival through the Soviet era. Since the EOCMP could not legally own the properties, they were registered separately and in canon law terms became stavropegial, i.e. directly subordinated to the Patriarch of Moscow. Aleksii II then generously allowed Kornilii to use the cathedral as his episcopal church.24 However, the majority of the EOCMP parishes had

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an indeterminate legal status. The EAOC repeatedly stated that it was not interested in claiming the places of worship that were used by the EOCMP, and that ‘we wish a fraternal solution to this problem, but our brothers in the Russian church must for their part recognise and respect the historical continuity of the EAOC’.25 The two Orthodox churches of Estonia both claim to exercise jurisdiction over the entire Estonian territory. In a way, this is even true, since there are very few direct points of contact between the two churches. Most of the parishioners of the EAOC feel Estonian and do not have much attachment to Russia as a political entity, even if they may be ethnic Russians, whereas the majority of the members of the EOCMP are ethnic Russians who are more orientated to Russia in the East than to the EU. The EOCMP parishes are concentrated in the industrial northeastern part of the country as well as in the large cities, regions with relatively large numbers of Russian-speaking labour immigrants, who moved to the Estonian Republic during the Soviet era for work. After 1991, they suddenly lived in an independent and arguably hostile nation-state. The Church, with its canonical linkage to Russia, is a kind of substitute homeland and preserver of their native language and culture. The EAOC parishes, on the other hand, exist in less industrial areas in southern Estonia, where the parishioners are interwar EAOC members and their descendants. Juxtaposing the number of parishes, of clergy and of purported members shows the different focus of the two churches (See Table 15.1.) Although the EAOC consists of twice as many parishes as the EOCMP, only about one eighth of the Orthodox faithful in Estonia belong to it. Moreover, the clergy of the EAOC are not numerous enough to serve all the parishes, while the EOCMP has a large surplus of clergy. Almost half the EAOC clergy were consecrated after 2005, as a result of the above-mentioned educational programmes. The situation in the 1990s was thus even less symmetrical. Neither of the churches keeps membership records, so the figures are mere approximations. In both cases, this means approximating the number of Orthodox believers in the respective parishes. The EOCMP thereby tends to equate ethnic Russian with Orthodox believer, which accounts for its high membership figures.26

Table 15.1 The two Orthodox churches in Estonia, 1 January 2011

EAOC EOCMP

Parishes

Clergy

Members

Average parishes

64 32

42 48

c. 27,000 c. 180,000

c. 420 c. 5,600

Source: Table compiled from Estonian Interior Ministry, Statistilisi andmeid [Statistical Data], 2011, http://www.siseministeerium.ee/public/STATISTILISI_ANDMEID_liikmeskond_ kogudusi_01.01.2011.doc (accessed 21 November 2011).

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The continuing controversy between the patriarchates concerning Estonia In autumn 2000, Patriarch Bartholomew of Constantinople visited Tallinn and rekindled the conflict between the Patriarchates of Moscow and Constantinople by stating that there could be only one canonical Orthodox Church in Estonia and the Russian parishes should have been governed by an exarch.27 According to the Moscow Patriarchate this was contrary to the agreement reached in 1996 and a blatant show of ignorance of the path of reconciliation that had been undertaken since then.28 Nevertheless, Moscow’s reaction was not as fierce this time and new reconciliatory talks led to an agreement that the EAOC was to hand all the properties used by the EOCMP to the latter church within sixty days of its registration. Another two years passed before the two Patriarchs agreed on what exactly this agreement was supposed to mean and the EOCMP finally managed to legally register itself in April 2002.29 This was partly facilitated by a change in the Estonian political leadership and a new ‘Churches and Congregations Act’. Later that same year, an agreement on the property issue was made through the mediation of the Estonian Interior Ministry: the EAOC withdrew all claims to properties used by the EOCMP in return for a state grant of €2.25 million for the renovation of its churches. The Estonian state, now the legal owner of the EOCMP churches, offered them to the EOCMP on a long-term lease for a symbolic sum. Once this compromise solution, which both churches continued to regard as unsatisfactory, had been reached, the first visit by Patriarch Aleksii II to Estonia since 1993 took place in September 2003. During the visit, the Patriarch was heartily received by the Estonian President Arnold Rüütel, himself Orthodox, and awarded the Maarjamaa Cross for special merits, the highest Estonian civil distinction. At the end of his visit, Patriarch Aleksii II met with Metropolitan Stephanos of the EAOC, and they exchanged views on the current situation, but without agreeing on anything. In the following years, it was the EAOC’s turn to complain about constant pressure from the Patriarchate of Moscow, which used every avenue to express its dissatisfaction with the situation. This included a special issue of the French journal Istina in 2004, titled ‘A case for the Estonian Orthodox Church on the defence of its autonomy vis-à-vis the Patriarchate of Moscow’, as well as official communiqués and the speeches of a Syndesmos-conference held in Estonia.30 The purported pressure expressed itself in the refusal of the Russian Orthodox Church to officially recognise the EAOC as an Orthodox Church and its unwillingness to partake in any inter-Orthodox meetings if a representative of the EAOC was invited. For example, Metropolitan Kirill (Gundiaev, currently Patriarch of Moscow) made it plain that the presence of a Russian delegation at a pan-Orthodox meeting in Constantinople in October 2008 ‘should not be counted as a precedent or a de facto recognition of the EAOC’.31

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The controversy also continued on the European level. In spite of protests from Moscow, the Conference of European Churches (CEC) decided to admit the EAOC to membership at the end of 2007, while only starting admission negotiations with the EOCMP. A year later, the CEC again delayed the membership application of the EOCMP because of protests from the Patriarchate of Constantinople. As a result, the Russian Orthodox Church suspended its CEC membership on 11 October 2008.32 According to the Patriarchate of Moscow, the delay in the admission procedure of the EOCMP was officially justified by factors that had played no role at all during the admission process of the EAOC. The only legitimate reason to delay the procedure would have been if the Church did not conform to the membership requirements. All requirements had been met, so the procedure went ahead. When Patriarch Aleksii II of Moscow passed away and was replaced by Kirill I (Gundiaev) in January 2009, hopes were uttered that the controversy over Estonia would calm down, since Kirill did not have the strong personal attachment to the Estonian case of his predecessor. However, the conflict seems to have remained on the agenda and the Russian Church has not yet returned to the CEC. During Kirill’s visit to Constantinople in July 2009, even though the Estonian problems were mentioned, no progress in their solution was achieved. A visit by Metropolitan Hilarion (Alfayev) of Volokolamsk, the ‘foreign minister’ of Patriarch Kirill, to Tallinn in September 2010 confirmed the lack of willingness to compromise. Hilarion’s programme was full of official meetings, but he did not once hint at the existence of the EAOC. He claimed afterwards to have invited Metropolitan Stephanos to talks, but the latter denied having received any invitation.33 A meeting between Metropolitan Stephanos of the EAOC and Metropolitan Hilarion was arranged during another visit by the latter to Tallinn at the end of April of the following year, in connection with the presentation of a new book on the situation of the Orthodox faithful in Estonia.34 A press release (in English) given to the author by a representative of the EAOC speaks about the Moscow Patriarchate recognising the EAOC in return for which the EAOC would remove the clauses hindering the final handover of the church properties to the EOCMP. The text of the proposed recognition ‘should be short and contain no references to history [and] should be ready before the meeting of the Russian Holy Synod in July’.35 However, no reference to any such text of recognition can be found in any other sources, nor has this press release, which was apparently written jointly by both sides, appeared anywhere. The stand-off between the Patriarchates thus continues.

The two churches today Other than in the international dimension of the Estonian Orthodox landscape, as can be seen in the controversy between the two Patriarchates of Moscow and Constantinople, the two churches locally hardly ever come into contact with each other. Although there are numerous and important exceptions on both sides, this is mainly because of their different target groups, the EAOC

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mainly addressing those that feel Estonian whereas the EOCMP caters for the Russian minority.36 They therefore also develop independently from each other. The EAOC, as has already been mentioned, is a growing structure, which is well integrated in Estonian society, pursuing flourishing ecumenical relations with the Estonian Lutheran Church and even able to educate its own priests in cooperation with the Faculty of Theology at the University of Tartu. It holds an annual general assembly, and at the 2008 assembly two new bishops for the EAOC, Eelija (Ojaperv) and Aleksander (Hopjorski), were elected, as Bishop of Tartu and Bishop of Pärnu-Saaremaa respectively.37 Metropolitan Kornilii called these two bishops wholly unnecessary for such a small church as the EAOC. However, their consecration in January 2009 enabled the EAOC to form an Episcopal synod, as specified in its statutes, for the first time in sixty-three years.38 The EAOC had always aspired to have three bishops, ever since the 1920s, because that enables it to consecrate the successor of a deceased bishop independently. The process of establishing a monastery on the island of Saaremaa was completed with its consecration in June 2009. At present, the monastery accommodates two Greek nuns. The 2011 general assembly decided to switch to the revised Julian calendar. The EOCMP is a less dynamic structure, but it has also experienced some changes in the last few years. Probably because Metropolitan Kornilii is currently the oldest acting hierarch in the Russian Orthodox Church, he requested a vicar bishop, a request which was granted when Lazar (Gurkin) was consecrated Bishop of Narva in 2009 and promoted to eparchial bishop in 2011.39 The spiritual centre of EOCMP life is the Pühtitsa Monastery in northeast Estonia, currently accommodating more than 150 nuns. Moreover, the monastery is a popular pilgrimage destination for Russian Orthodox from all over Europe. Having one’s child baptised in Pühtitsa is considered to bring good luck, because of the assertion that the monastery is built on a holy spot.40 During the riots of the so-called ‘Bronze Night’ in April 2007, when a Soviet memorial to the fallen of the Second World War was relocated from a central location to a cemetery on the outskirts of Tallinn, Metropolitan Kornilii tried to mediate.41 He proposed to set up a cross at the former site of the memorial, clearly positioning himself in support of the rioters, primarily from the Russian minority. Two minor scandals hit the EOCMP in 2010 but did not change its status considerably. The first one was purely political, when the mayor of Tallinn, Edgar Savissaar, admitted to having applied for Russian money to facilitate the erection of a new parish church for the EOCMP in the Tallinn suburb of Lasnamäe, which was interpreted as unfair election campaigning.42 The cornerstone of this church, which is supposed to become an Orthodox centre for all Estonia, had been placed by Patriarch Aleksii II during his visit in 2003; the cathedral was completed in autumn 2013. The second issue was internal, when the popular priest Igor Prekup was suspended from the clerical ranks for having disobeyed Metropolitan Kornilii, by interfering in a child molester’s case.43 The story was immensely complicated and Prekup

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was rehabilitated by the ecclesiastical court of the Russian Orthodox Church later that year.

Conclusion The Orthodox Church in Estonia offers a prime example of the difficulties facing an Orthodox Church after forty years of Soviet rule. As in Ukraine and Moldova, as well as to a lesser extent in other post-Soviet countries, a debate about the legitimacy of certain twentieth-century developments resulted in a church schism. This concerned primarily the actions of the Moscow Patriarchate during the Soviet era. In the Estonian case, an independent Orthodox Church, subordinated to the Patriarchate of Constantinople, had existed all through the interwar period and it had even managed to survive until the 1990s in exile. The disagreement was therefore set to be a major one between the Patriarchates of Moscow and Constantinople. Developments within each of the churches were overshadowed by this conflict. Nevertheless, they acted rather independently, with few points of intersection, except on the level of hierarchy. This was especially the case once the EAOC had achieved its first goal: official registration as the legal and canonical successor of the interwar church. It could then start out on a journey of effectively rebuilding a church from scratch, whereas the EOCMP had to deal with numerous potentially explosive leftovers from the Soviet period. The reconciliation process between the two opposing churches has been repeatedly set in motion, but it has not yielded any promising results to date. The main issues between them seem to be twofold. First of all, their views of history are so radically divergent that any statement by either side is bound to be misinterpreted by the other. Second, the conceptualisation of hierarchy and collegiality differs from one church to the other. Concerning the historiography, this is very clearly visible in the various published narratives of Estonian Orthodox history. For the EOCMP and the Russian Orthodox Church, the history of Estonian Orthodoxy is a small part of the millennium of Russian church history, in which the subordination to Constantinople in 1923 was an exception, redressed through the repentance and return to Moscow in 1940/1944. According to these texts, the Orthodox faithful in Estonia did not want to sever links with the Patriarchate of Moscow in 1923, but were driven to do so by the Estonian secular authorities, while the Patriarchate of Constantinople all too happily agreed in order to increase its influence. The ethnic Estonian Archpriest Toomas Hirvoja of the EOCMP, for example, draws a comparison between the Orthodox Church and the human body.44 Constantinople constitutes the torso, while Moscow is an arm. The Estonian Orthodox Church is nothing but a finger at the end of this arm, and attaching the finger directly to the torso defies natural anatomy. For the EAOC, its history prior to 1923 is unimportant, as are the developments during the Soviet era. The historical narratives of the EAOC, then, usually consist of a pre-history until 1923 and a period of bloom from 1923 until 1940, when

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the Soviet Union uncanonically and brutally oppressed the Church.45 In the 1980s, it gradually managed to free itself again and was officially revived in 1996. For foreign supporters of the EAOC (primarily Finland, France and Greece), the Patriarchate of Moscow could hardly be considered a religious entity during the Soviet era, but rather a political instrument.46 In relation to the second issue, the atmosphere in the EAOC seems more collegial and less hierarchical, probably because of the small size of the Church, the southern temperament and the diaspora experience of Metropolitan Stephanos. The EOCMP values hierarchical relations and clear structures. In order to get hold of a copy of the latest book on Orthodoxy in Estonia, published by the Moscow Patriarchate but not made freely available,47 a highranking member of the EAOC told the author to go to the EOCMP and claim that Metropolitan Hilarion of Volokolamsk had sent him to get this book, otherwise he would not succeed. Even though this was not necessary, it is clear that the EOCMP acts less freely and often refers to its superiors in Moscow. The agreement between Constantinople and Moscow in 2000 concerning Estonia was delayed partly because the Patriarch of Constantinople maintained that he had no power to enact it. It had to be carried out by the EAOC itself and Metropolitan Stephanos.48 In other words, the Patriarchate of Moscow, regarding the EOCMP as an inalienable part of itself, attempts to solve the question at a higher level of the hierarchy than the Patriarchate of Constantinople, which regards the EAOC as a completely independent church in its jurisdiction. The controversy does not currently seem to be nearing an end. However, as has repeatedly been the case, both sides are good for a surprise. A sudden turn of events might happen at the least expected moment and end the controversy once and for all.

Appendix The Estonian Apostolic Orthodox Church 1

Religious leaders

•

Johannes (Rinne), Archbishop of Karelia and all Finland (1923–2010), locum tenens 1996–9 Stephanos (Christakis Charalambides), Metropolitan of Tallinn and All Estonia (1940–), in office 1999–.

•

2

Biography

Title: Metropolitan of Tallinn and All Estonia. Stephanos (Christakis Charalambides) was born in Congo in 1940 of Orthodox Greek Cypriot parents. He studied at St Sergius Theological Institute (Paris) 1960–5 and at the Theological Faculty of the Sorbonne 1964–8. In 1987 he was ordained Bishop of Nazianzus (a vicar bishop of the Metropolitan of France; his residence was in Nice). From 1997, he visited Estonia once a year,

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reporting on the church situation to the Patriarch of Constantinople. In 1999, he was elected Metropolitan of Tallinn and All Estonia, since the search for a native candidate had failed. He was granted Estonian citizenship for special merits in 2004 and is popular in the EAOC. 3

Theological publications

• •

Metropoolia [Metropolitanate] Usk ja Elu [Faith and Life].

4

Congregations49

Structure of the Church: 1 metropolitanate (Tallinn), 2 bishoprics (Tartu; Pärnu and Saare); 64 parishes. Number of clergy and church buildings: 1 metropolitan, 2 bishops, 31 priests (3 monk priests), 9 deacons; about 90 churches, of which half are derelict; 1 monastery with 2 nuns. The Estonian Orthodox Church (Moscow Patriarchate) 1

Religious leaders

•

Kornilii (Vyacheslav Jakobs), Metropolitan of Tallinn and All Estonia (1924–), in office 1990–.

2

Biography

Title: Metropolitan of Tallinn and All Estonia. Kornilii (Vyacheslav Jakobs) was born in Tallinn in 1924 into the Russian minority of Estonia. He was consecrated deacon in 1945 and priest in 1948. He was sentenced to ten years in a gulag in 1957, but was freed in 1960. Widowed since 1974, he was consecrated as Bishop of Tallinn in 1990, as vicar to Patriarch Aleksii II of Moscow. Two years later he was promoted to eparchial bishop of the autonomous Eparchy of Tallinn. From 1995 he was Archbishop and from 2000 Metropolitan of Tallinn. He is the oldest acting hierarch in the Russian Orthodox Church.50 3 • 4

Theological publications Mir pravoslaviya [Orthodox World]. Congregations51

Structure of the Church: 1 metropolitanate (Tallinn), 1 bishopric (Narva); 32 parishes.

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Number of clergy and church buildings: 1 metropolitan, 1 bishop, 39 priests (4 monk priests), 15 deacons; 33 church buildings (of which 8 nominally belong to the state); 1 monastery with more than 150 nuns. 5

Population

According to the 2000 census,52 Estonia had 1,370,000 inhabitants, of whom 922,000 were Estonian-speakers and 407,000 were Russian-speakers. Of those that answered the question on religious affiliation (328,000), 46 per cent were affiliated to the Lutheran Church and 44 per cent to the Orthodox Church (both branches). The Estonian churches do not keep membership records, but according to the latest statistics from the Estonian Interior Ministry, from 1 January 2011,53 the EOCMP has between 170,000 and 200,000 members, while the EAOC has about 27,000 members. The Estonian Lutheran Church, in comparison, has about 180,000 members.

Acknowledgements I would like to thank Inese Runce, Jelena Avanesova and Teuvo Laitila for their useful comments and suggestions on this chapter.

Notes 1 The literature on this conversion movement is divided into two groups: the Baltic German accounts generally claim that the conversions were the result of Russian Orthodox propaganda and had been consciously prepared and planned in order to weaken the Lutheran Church in the region. The Russian accounts emphasise the spontaneous nature of the movement, which happened unexpectedly and so quickly that the Orthodox Church could not keep up with the events. While Western scholarship has generally favoured the Baltic German account, the recent PhD thesis of Daniel C. Ryan convincingly challenges this view on the basis of primary sources. See Daniel C. Ryan, ‘The Tsar’s Faith: Conversion, Religious Politics, and Peasant Protest in Imperial Russia’s Baltic Periphery, 1845–1870s’, unpublished PhD thesis, University of California, 2008. See also Sebastian Rimestad, The Challenges of Modernity to the Orthodox Churches of Estonia and Latvia Latvia (1917–1940), Frankfurt am Main: Peter Lang, 2012. 2 Rimestad, The Challenges. 3 Patriarch Aleksii II, Pravoslavie v Estonii [The Orthodox in Estonia], Moscow: TsNTs, 1999, pp. 427–78. 4 Bernard Dupuy, ‘Le plaidoyer pour l’autonomie de l’Église orthodoxe d’Estonie’, Istina, 2004, 1, 31–2; Mari-Ann Heljas, ‘L’Église orthodoxe d’Estonia’, Istina, 2004, 1, 41–4. 5 Aleksii, Pravoslavie, pp. 464, 471. 6 Ibid., pp. 476–7. 7 Mitropolit Kornilii, O moem puti [About my Journey], Tallinn: Sata, 2009, pp. 189–99. 8 Igor Prekup, Pravoslavie v Estonii [The Orthodox in Estonia], Tallinn: Trükis, 1998, p. 108; Kornilii, O moem puti, p. 200.

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9 The Russian narratives are primarily those of the Zhurnal Moskovskoi Patriarkhii as well as Aleksii, Pravoslavie; Prekup, Pravoslavie; Kornilii, O moem puti; Pravoslavie v Estonii [The Orthodox in Estonia], vols I and II, Moscow: TsNTs, 2010. 10 Pål Kolstø, Political Construction Sites, Oxford: Westview Press, 2000, pp. 32–3, 63. 11 Prekup, Pravoslavie, pp. 40–1. 12 Lawrence Uzzell, ‘The church mouse that roared: Estonian Orthodoxy’s road to independence’, Keston News Service, 1996, http://www.holy-trinity.org/estonia/ keston.html (accessed 18 November 2011). Sarapik had been interested in restoring the canonical link to Constantinople since participating in an ecumenical gathering in Australia in 1984. Tosso’s views on the future of the Orthodox Church in Estonia were made clear in an article in the Finnish Orthodox journal: Henn Tosso, ‘On Strategic Questions of Re-establishing the Estonian Orthodox Church’, Ortodoksia, 1994, 43, 103–14. 13 Uzzell, ‘The church mouse’. 14 Prekup, Pravoslavie, pp. 44–5; Pravoslavie I, pp. 252–3; Pravoslavie II, pp. 226–7; Kornilii, O moem puti, pp. 200–2. 15 Prekup, Pravoslavie, pp. 48–52, 137–58, quotation from p. 52, pp. 157–8; Pravoslavie I, pp. 255–61; Pravoslavie II, pp. 237–49. 16 A selection of articles in English can be found at http://www.holy-trinity.org/estonia/. See also ‘Beyond belief’, The Economist, 23 March 1996; ‘Chronique des églises’, Irénikon, 1996, pp. 96–108; ‘Latente spannungen zwischen Moskau und Konstantinopel’, Neue Zürcher Zeitung, 11 July 1996; Alexander F. C. Webster, ‘Split Decision: The Orthodox Clash over Estonia’, Christian Century, 1996, 113, 614–23; Wolfram von Scheliha, ‘Die Krise um die jurisdiktionelle Zugehörigkeit der estnischen orthodoxen Kirche’, Osteuropa, 1997, 9, 876–84. The Patriarchate of Moscow published all the relevant documents in English translation in a special issue of the Information Bulletin of the Department for External Church Relations, Moscow Patriarchate, 1996, 4. See also the narratives in Heiki Huttunen, ‘The Resurrection of a Church’, in The Autonomous Orthodox Church of Estonia, Grigorios D. Papathomas and Matthias H. Palli (eds), Katerini: Éditions Épektasis, 2002, pp. 409–12; Pravoslavie I, pp. 263–87; ‘L’autonomie de l’Église d’Estonia’, Istina, 1996, pp. 314–26. 17 See also the chapter on Finland in this volume. His title after retiring in 2001 was Metropolitan of Nicaea. 18 Metropolitan John of Nicaea [Johannes (Rinne)], ‘Involved in the Life of the Orthodox Church of Estonia (1996–1999)’, in The Autonomous Orthodox Church of Estonia, Papathomas and Palli (eds), pp. 308–11; Huttunen, ‘Resurrection’, p. 410. 19 John, ‘Involved’, pp. 314–16; Huttunen, ‘Resurrection’, pp. 413–14. 20 Archpriest Simeon Kruzhkov (1929–98) was born and raised as a member of the Russian minority in Estonia in the 1930s, as were Patriarch Aleksii II (1929–2008) and Metropolitan Kornilii (Jakobs, 1924–). When Patriarch Aleksii II left the Tallinn Eparchy for Leningrad in 1990, Kruzhkov was the preferred candidate among the local clergy for the post of the new Bishop of Tallinn. His consecration in 1998 was as Bishop of Abydos, vicar to the EAOC. John, ‘Involved’, pp. 317–18, Huttunen, ‘Resurrection’, p. 414; Kornilii, O moem puti, p. 190. 21 ‘L’évêque Stéphane élu métropolite d’Estonie’, SOP, 237, 1999, pp. 3–4; John, ‘Involved’, p. 318; Huttunen, ‘Resurrection’, p. 415. 22 Bishop Platon (Kulbusch) of Tallinn (1869–1919), the first native Estonian to become bishop, was killed by retreating Bolshevik forces only twelve months after his consecration in January 1919 and then venerated as a saint, especially in the Estonian exile church. In 2000 he was canonised as a martyr saint, separately by both the Patriarchate of Constantinople and the Patriarchate of Moscow.

310 23 24 25 26

27 28 29

30 31 32 33

34

35 36 37 38 39 40 41

42 43

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He was named Archbishop in 1995 and Metropolitan in 2000. Pravoslavie I, pp. 290–1. An official communiqué by the EAOC from 2000, cited in SOP, 251, 2000, p. 17. For more on the differences between the two churches, see Sebastian Rimestad, ‘The Two Orthodox Churches of Estonia’, in Orthodox Churches in Europe – Borders Constructed and Deconstructed, Alfons Bruening and Sebastian Rimestad (eds), Leuven: Peeters, forthcoming. SOP, 253, 2000, pp. 4–8. Pravoslavie I, pp. 294–5. Pravoslavie I, pp. 297–304; ‘Chronique des églises’, Irénikon, 2001, pp. 135–7; ‘Chronique des églises’, Irénikon, 2002, pp. 328–31; SOP, 269, 2002, pp. 8–9. The documents are reproduced in English and French translation in The Autonomous Orthodox Church of Estonia, Papathomas and Palli (eds), pp. 247–64. ‘Le plaidoyer de l’Église orthodoxe d’Estonie pour la défence de son autonomie face au Patriarcat de Moscou’, Istina, 2004, 1; SOP, 295, 2005, p. 13. SOP, 332, 2008, p. 2. See also Pravoslavie I, pp. 313–15. Officially, the Moscow Patriarchate always refers to the ‘ecclesiastical organisation led by Metropolitan Stephanos’, not to a church. ‘Russische Orthodoxe Kirche lässt Mitgliedschaft in der KEK ruhen’, G2W, 11, 2008, p. 3; Pravoslavie I, pp. 312–13. Sakarias Leppik, ‘Metropoliit Stefanus: metropoliit Ilarion ei näidanud üles arusaamist Eesti ajaloo ja rahva vastu’ [Metropolitan Stephanos: Metropolitan Hilarion did not show any understanding of the history of the Estonian people], Kompass, 23 September 2010, http://www.kompass.ee/?id=13769 (accessed 1 October 2010); Tatyana Kosmynina, ‘Vizit Ilariona vskolykhnul starye problemy mezhdu patriarkhami’ [Hilarion’s visit recalls the old problems between the Patriarchs], 21 September 2010, http://rus.err.ee/news/estonia/215425 (accessed 1 October 2010). Pravoslavie I and Pravoslavie II. This is a two-volume collective work. The first volume is a short version of the work of Patriarch Aleksii II (pp. 9–182) extended by an editorial article on the crisis since the 1990s (pp. 195–319). This part very closely follows the narrative of Igor Prekup. The second volume is a collection of reproduced documents on the crisis. The references to the April 2011 meeting between the hierarchs are scarce. SOP, 359, 2011, mentions it briefly and a press statement of the Moscow Patriarchate is available at http://www.mospat.ru/ ru/2011/04/30/news40713/ (accessed 23 November 2011). ‘Meeting of H. E. Metropolitan Stephanos and H. E. Metropolitan Hilarion’, May 2011, facsimile (in author’s possession). See also Rimestad, ‘The Two Orthodox Churches’. SOP, 330, 2008, pp. 12–13. SOP, 336, 2009, p. 14. Pravoslavie I, pp. 318–19. The monastery’s website (so far only in Russian) is at http://www.puhtitsa.ee. Karsten Brüggemann and Andres Kasekamp, ‘The Politics of History and the “War of Monuments”’, Nationalities Papers, 2008, 3, 425–48; ‘Estonian Orthodox primate proposes setting up cross instead of Bronze Soldier’, Interfax Religion, 1 May 2007, http://www.interfax-religion.com/?act=news&div=2974 (accessed 20 January 2012). ‘Umstrittener orthodoxer Kirchenbau in Tallinn’, G2W, 2, 2011, p. 4. See Igor Prekup, ‘Istoriya povesti “Tanyushka” – Problemu nado analizirovat’, reshat’. Chto s neyu borot’sya?’ [The history of the novel ‘Tanya’ – The problem should be analysed and solved. Why try to fight it?], http://af0n.ru/ Afon-palomnichestvo.Pravoslavie-i-mir.Rascerkovlenie-Svyashennik-IgorPrekup-istoriya-povesti-Tanyushka-Problemu-nado-analizirov (accessed 24 November 2011).

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44 Correspondence between the author and Toomas Hirvoja. 45 Metropolitan Kornilii addresses this difference, when he categorically states that ‘the history of the Orthodox Church in Estonia must not begin in 1923. Just travel about in Estonia and take note of how many Orthodox church buildings were built between the eighteenth and early twentieth century.’ Kornilii, O moem puti, p. 203. 46 This becomes especially clear in The Autonomous Orthodox Church of Estonia, Papathomas and Palli (eds), and ‘Le plaidoyer’. 47 See note 36. 48 Pravoslavie I, pp. 292–3. 49 Data compiled from the official website of the EAOC: http://www.eoc.ee (accessed 18 November 2011). 50 Kornilii, O moem puti. 51 Data compiled from the official website of the EOCMP: http://www.orthodox.ee (accessed 18 November 2011). 52 For more information see http://www.stat.ee (accessed 18 November 2011). 53 Estonian Interior Minstry, Statistilisi andmeid [Statistical Data], http:// www.siseministeerium.ee/public/STATISTILISI_ANDMEID_liikmeskond_ kogudusi_01.01.2011.doc (accessed 21 November 2011).

16 Orthodox churches in Ukraine Zenon V. Wasyliw

The decline and fall of the USSR opened a religious revival throughout the former Soviet empire and especially in newly independent Ukraine. The Orthodox Church became an integral part of this religious revival and evolved in response to a renewed Ukrainian national identity, regional differences and the introduction of a civil society. The Orthodox Church in Ukraine divided according to these new conditions and eventually evolved into three competing religious jurisdictions during Ukraine’s early years of independence, 1991–5, that exist to the present. These divisions follow the intricacies of confessional identities, affiliations, personalities and state policies. On the one hand, these divisions are decried by some as subverting the creation of a unified Orthodox Church. On the other hand, the divisions and the proliferation of other related and diverse religious affiliations illustrate the evolution of ‘religious denominationalism’ within a civically pluralistic contemporary Ukraine.1 The early stages of the religious revival in Ukraine can be dated back to the millennial celebration of Kyivan Christianity in 1988. The opening of Soviet society under Gorbachev’s more lenient policies of glasnost and perestroika paralleled a resurgence of religious activity and the renewal and reestablishment of the previously banned Ukrainian Autocephalous Orthodox and Ukrainian Greek Catholic churches in 1989–90. These churches challenged the former state-sponsored Russian Orthodox religious monopoly in Ukraine. As this chapter will explore, religious debate and conflict appeared and became increasingly visible.2

The Ukrainian Autocephalous Orthodox Church and the Ukrainian Orthodox Church – Moscow Patriarchate The Russian Orthodox Church of the Moscow Patriarchate (ROC) had a great deal at stake in Ukraine. Statistics from 1988 indicated that of 6,893 Russian Orthodox parishes in the USSR, more than 4,000 or at least 58 percent of the total were located in the Ukrainian Soviet Republic.3 The Ukrainian Autocephalous Orthodox Church (UAOC) was re-established in 1989 and was heavily represented in western Ukraine and more specifically the Galician (Halychyna) region, with approximately 500 priests and 1,043

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parishes. This paralleled an even more rapid renewal of the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church (UGCC).4 The first UAOC parish was established in Lviv on 19 August 1989 when the Sts Peter and Paul parish under the leadership of Fr Volodymyr Yarema left the ROC commemorating the Ecumenical Patriarch of Constantinople rather than the Patriarch of Moscow, although the UAOC was not canonically recognised by the Ecumenical Patriarch. The UAOC competed with the UGCC over parishes in this region, which was strongly nationally conscious and which rapidly repudiated its ROC affiliations in 1989 and thereafter.5 The re-establishment of the UAOC called for a new ecclesiastical structure. A UAOC Synod met in June 1990 and elected Metropolitan Mstyslav Skrypnyk as its Patriarch at St Sophia Cathedral in Kyiv. Patriarch Mstyslav was head of the United States branch of the not canonically recognised Ukrainian Orthodox Church of the United States (UOCofUSA)6 centred in South Bound Brook, NJ. In response, the Moscow Patriarch Aleksii II proclaimed, on 28 October 1990, at St Sophia Cathedral, the self-rule and independence, or autonomy, of a renamed Ukrainian Orthodox Church under the canonical jurisdiction of the Moscow Patriarch (UOC-MP). The leading Russian Orthodox hierarch of Ukraine, Metropolitan Filaret Denysenko, was proclaimed Metropolitan of Kyiv and All Ukraine. The visit of Patriarch Aleksii II led to public protests from more patriotically inclined Ukrainians.7 The renaming of Ukraine’s Russian Orthodox Church as the Ukrainian Orthodox Church was clearly a response to the creation of the UAOC and UGCC, reflecting new political realities and growing national aspirations. The UOC-MP claimed sole legitimacy based on it being the only internationally recognised canonical Church in Ukraine, while the UAOC unsuccessfully sought canonical recognition through the Ecumenical Patriarch. The revived UAOC and UGCC attracted many of the west Ukrainian Galician faithful. Most congregations quickly disavowed affiliation with the Moscow Patriarch through the UOC-MP. Tensions arose among all three affiliations as control of church buildings became seriously contested. The UAOC and UGCC often used historical legitimacy and Ukrainian patriotism to attract the more nationalistically orientated western Ukrainians, especially in the Galician region.8 Meanwhile, the declaration of an independent Ukrainian state on 24 August, confirmed by referendum on 1 December of 1991 with over 90 per cent support, led to new requests to the Moscow Patriarchate from the UOC-MP. Metropolitan Filaret, leader of the UOC-MP, called upon the Moscow Patriarchate to grant the Ukrainian Orthodox Church full canonical independence or, in other words, autocephaly, although Metropolitan Filaret made the demand without first consulting and confirming the matter with his own UOC-MP Synod of Bishops. The Russian media and Patriarch, Aleksii II launched a personal attack on Filaret, accusing him of KGB connections and other unsavoury activities.9 The Moscow Patriarchate instead proposed the candidacy of Metropolitan Volodymyr Sabodan of Rostov and Novocherkassk, who was of Ukrainian

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nationality. He was a former rector of the Moscow Theological Seminary and was quite popular among the seminarians, of whom 80 per cent were reported to be of Ukrainian nationality.10 Metropolitan Filaret was condemned and told to forsake his ecclesiastical position and return to the status of a monk at a sobor [council] held in Moscow in April 1992. Metropolitan Filaret instead returned to Kyiv and refused to step down. Eighteen bishops of the UOC-MP gathered in the eastern Ukrainian city of Kharkiv and nominated Metropolitan Volodymyr Sabodan the new exarch of the UOC-MP.11 Metropolitan Sabodan was a dependable church leader who would neither challenge nor criticise continued canonical subordination to the Moscow Patriarch.12 The UOC-MP bolstered its position by noting its canonical recognition of not only the Moscow Patriarch, but also all other canonical Orthodox patriarchates and jurisdictions around the world. Although not an autocephalous church, the UOC-MP was granted independent and autonomous status.13

The Ukrainian Orthodox Church – Kyiv Patriarchate Metropolitan Volodymyr arrived in Kyiv to assume the leadership of the UOC-MP on 13 June 1992. Metropolitan Filaret, supported by then President of Ukraine Leonid Kravchuk, did not relinquish control of the main Cathedral of St Volodymyr despite pressure from adherents of the UOC-MP. The capital of Kyiv now witnessed a religious denominational competition that spread throughout Ukraine. The followers of Metropolitan Volodymyr claimed canonical standing; they initially displayed a pro-Russian orientation and pledged fealty to Aleksii II. Metropolitan Volodymyr successfully initiated a stronger Ukrainian identity for the Church. He emphasised a unique Kyivan religious tradition equating Kyiv to a second Jerusalem and the important influence of the national Ukrainian poet Taras Shevchenko.14 Over twenty years a strengthening Ukrainian and autocephalist orientation had evolved among a younger generation of clerics, perhaps most clearly identified by Archbishop Oleksandr Drabinko.15 Metropolitan Filaret, no longer recognised by the Moscow Patriarchate, sent a personal representative, Bishop Yakiv, to seek canonical recognition from the Ecumenical Patriarch of Constantinople on 18–20 June 1992.16 The Ecumenical Patriarch did not consent and Metropolitan Filaret then turned to the Ukrainian nationally conscious leadership of the UAOC. Representatives of both the UAOC and those loyal to Metropolitan Filaret met in Kyiv several days later. Archbishop Volodymyr Romaniuk, a leader of the UAOC, was a prisoner of conscience who served time in labour camps under Stalin and Brezhnev.17 Bishop Spyrydon represented Metropolitan Filaret and his followers. Numerous nationally conscious secular authorities and leaders joined with church representatives to approve the merger of both church groups into one Ukrainian Orthodox Church of a newly established Kyivan Patriarchate (UOC-KP). The unification was formally concluded in

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Kyiv on 23 June 1992.18 The former chief of communist ideology in Soviet Ukraine, Leonid Kravchuk, and now the first elected President of Ukraine, and Metropolitan Filaret, formerly an accommodating Soviet pro-Russian and russifying church leader, now collaborated in establishing an independent Ukrainian Orthodox Church that encouraged the use of Ukrainian as a liturgical language and represented itself as a defender of Ukrainian national rights and interests.19 This new state of affairs represented an important intersection between the church and politics. President Kravchuk later intervened on behalf of the UOC-KP to request formal canonical recognition from the Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew, who remained neutral in the matter. A segment of the UAOC did not agree with the merger. Metropolitan Filaret was chosen as assistant to the Patriarch and continued his administrative control of the ecclesiastical infrastructure loyal to his authority. Patriarch Mstyslav’s could not remain in Kyiv because of ill health and returned to his permanent residence in New Jersey. It was in this capacity that Metropolitan Filaret ran daily administrative affairs.20 The merger meant that the original UAOC, now the UOC-KP, extended its jurisdiction to parishes in central and eastern Ukraine, beyond its initial core in western Ukraine, as new parishes formed or switched affiliation from the UOC-MP to the UOC-KP. Patriarch Mstyslav never felt comfortable in his ecclesiastical connections with Metropolitan Filaret. Patriarch Mstyslav held in higher regard Metropolitan Volodymyr (UOC-MP), whom he approached regarding possible cooperation.21 The death of Patriarch Mstyslav on 11 June 1993 led to conflicting claims to his legacy and further division. A UOC-KP synod was convened on 21 October 1993 and Archbishop Volodymyr Romaniuk was selected Patriarch from among four candidates.22 Approximately one month earlier, on 7 September, a separate branch, maintaining the original UAOC designation, held a sobor in Kyiv and elected and enthroned on 14 October 1993 Patriarch Demetrius.23 Both the UOC-KP and the UAOC claimed legitimacy from Patriarch Mstyslav, although neither Church was canonically recognised by world orthodoxy. The UOC-KP continued negotiations with the Ecumenical Patriarchate of Constantinople to gain recognition as a canonical church. Ukraine, by 1995, had three Orthodox Church jurisdictions. Numerically, the UOC-MP was the largest with 5,763 parishes and 4,854 clergy according to official government statistics.24 UOC-MP parishes were reopened or newly established in the central, southern and eastern regions with a near total exclusion from western Ukraine.25 The UOK-KP followed with 1,892 parishes and 1,080 clergy, primarily in western Ukraine and increasingly in central Ukraine. The UAOC had 250 parishes with 300 clergy primarily based in western Ukraine. Overall, by 2011, the number of parishes increased dramatically.26 The leadership of the UOC-KP countered the numerical superiority of the UOC-MP by referring to a sociological survey. The Kyiv International Institute of Sociology asked respondents about their attitudes toward religion

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including a question on affiliation. Of those surveyed, a larger segment identified with the UOC-KP, followed by the UOC-MP.27 Metropolitan Filaret used this survey to extrapolate the finding that the UOC-KP had the support of 26 million people as opposed to 8.5 million that supported the UOC-MP.28 Others interpreted these numbers as based on respondents’ confusion over jurisdictional affiliations. Nevertheless, the UOC-KP was now firmly established. Internal matters hindered the Kyiv Patriarchate. Metropolitan Antony Masendych, at one time a potential candidate for the Kyivan Patriarch, switched to the UOC-MP with four other UOC-KP bishops. Personal ambition and issues of canonicity were given as reasons for their departure. New UOC-KP bishops were consecrated in their places.29 Many were reluctant to follow Metropolitan Filaret who was de facto in charge of administrative affairs as a result of Patriarch Volodymyr’s failing health. Metropolitan Filaret was more authoritarian than conciliary in his decision-making. He increasingly became the major spokesperson for the Church and in an interview, justified the creation of a Kyivan Patriarchate.30 He stressed that state independence brought with it the foundations of an independent Ukrainian Orthodox Church, as was the case with the Russian, Georgian, Bulgarian, Greek, Serb, Romanian and Albanian churches. When asked about the absence of ecumenical canonical recognition, the Metropolitan responded that other national churches were not granted immediate recognition, with the Moscow Patriarchate as a prime example. The UOC-KP reinforced a strong Ukrainian national identity through the commemoration of important historical figures, including the famous poet Taras Shevchenko, and symbolic patriotic gestures. A prime example was Metropolitan Filaret’s trip to the historic Cossack city of Baturyn on 29 May 1994 to lift an anathema placed upon the rebellious, independence-seeking eighteenth-century Ukrainian Cossack leader Hetman Ivan Mazeppa by the Russian Church.31 The hierarchy and clergy of the UOC-MP attempted to balance increasingly divergent Russophilist and Ukrainophilist tendencies in the Church. The former maintained a close relationship with former communist officials and represented southern and eastern Ukrainian territories while the latter were of a younger generation more often representing central and western Ukrainian lands.32 The Moscow Patriarchate had much to lose in status and wealth with the creation of an independent Kyivan Church, yet, it also had to recognise the realities of an independent Ukrainian state by changing the status of the Church from an exarchate of the Russian Orthodox Church to an autonomous Ukrainian Orthodox Church still ecclesiastically and canonically attached to the Moscow Patriarchate of the Russian Orthodox Church. After his election in 1994 President Leonid Kuchma claimed neutrality regarding religious institutions. Kuchma emphasised religion’s role in raising the country’s moral standards and values but officially did not support one church organisation over another.33 In reality, the presidential campaign between Kravchuk and Kuchma in spring and summer 1994 did indeed

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witness a political and church alignment. The UOC-MP was dominant in southern and eastern Ukraine, Kuchma’s electoral stronghold. Kravchuk’s base of political support was found in the western and central regions that reflected affiliation with the UOC-KP and UAOC. Both candidates took this religious alignment into serious consideration.34 During this period important transitions took place with the diaspora. The Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew, received into canonical communion the Ukrainian Orthodox Church of Canada in 1990.35 The Ukrainian Orthodox churches of the United States, South America, Western Europe and Australia also entered into communion with the Ecumenical Patriarch on 12 March 1995. This significant communion established the Permanent Conference of Ukrainian Orthodox Bishops outside Ukraine.36 The Permanent Conference was canonically recognised by all other Eastern Orthodox jurisdictions throughout the world. The Kyivan Patriarchate joyously greeted this ecumenical union with an eye toward its own eventual canonical acceptance by the Ecumenical Patriarch of Constantinople.37 The UAOC also continued a dialogue with the Ecumenical Patriarchate. The death of Patriarch Volodymyr, leader of the UOC-KP, on 14 July 1995 brought an outpouring of sympathy and outrage.38 The funeral procession in Kyiv on 18 July left St Volodymyr Cathedral and stopped at the ancient St Sophia Cathedral for his final burial.39 The church hierarchy, clergy and faithful were denied entry by civil authorities thanks to a misunderstanding between church and government officials. The determined faithful were soon physically attacked and gassed by Special Forces units. Nationalist UNSO members in attendance responded physically in self-defence. In defiance of the state authorities, the Patriarch was buried beneath the sidewalk along an outer cathedral wall where a gravesite monument remains to this very day. The former president, Leonid Kravchuk, attended the funeral and named this day ‘black Tuesday’, a popularly accepted designation. Kuchma soon delivered a public apology on national television, but public discussion, speculation and debate did not cease.40 Metropolitan Filaret was elected Patriarch on 22 October 1995 upon the death of Patriarch Volodymyr of the UOC-KP.41 His election consolidated the tripartite division of Ukrainian Orthodoxy that still exists in contemporary Ukraine. The UOC-MP remains the largest church according to official statistics posted on 1 January 2011 in terms of registered communities or parishes numbering 11,952.42 Metropolitan Volodymyr of the UOC-MP re-emphasised, in an interview, subordination to Moscow and continues to declare that the Ukrainian Orthodox Church, under his leadership, strives toward an equal status within the family of Orthodox churches by following the proper canonical process.43 Patriarch Filaret, leader of the UOC-KP, maintains the necessity of establishing a Ukrainian Orthodox Church canonically recognised by world Orthodoxy and independent of the Moscow Patriarchate. He has claimed and continues to claim that despite having the second largest number of parishes, 4,371, the number of actual UOC-KP congregants is

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higher than that of the UOC-MP.44 The Ukrainian Autocephalous Orthodox Church, UAOC, has 1,190 registered parishes and currently has a divided leadership.45 Metropolitan Mefodiy (Kudriakov) has encouraged the growth of the UAOC outside its regional Galician base and continues to take an independent course, engaging in occasion in dialogue with the UOC-KP and UOC-MP.

The Kharkiv and Poltava Ukrainian Autocephalous Orthodox Church The respective Orthodox churches continue to debate and dispute the current and future status of Orthodoxy in Ukraine. The UOC-MP maintains that its canonical status and recognition by other canonical Orthodox churches makes it the only legitimate jurisdiction. It vehemently opposes, criticises and does not recognise Patriarch Filaret and the UOC-KP, yet it continues to be open to unification discussions with the UAOC and the UOC-KP.46 Patriarch Filaret maintains that only his Church can truly represent the interests of Ukraine, unlike the UOC-MP’s subservience to Moscow, and feels deserving of canonical recognition of his Church by the Ecumenical Patriarch of Constantinople.47 The Ukrainian Orthodox Church outside of Ukraine and in communion with the Ecumenical Patriarch of Constantinople proposed yet another alternative initially through Archbishop Vsevolod (Maidansky) of Chicago to unite the Ukrainian Churches to communion with the Ecumenical Patriarch of Constantinople through the UAOC.48 The UAOC further splintered into a possible fourth branch. Patriarch Dymytrii (Yarema) of the UAOC, prior to passing away in 2000, left as his testament that the UAOC should adhere to the leadership of the now deceased Metropolitan Constantine (Theodore Buggan) and current leader Metropolitan Antony (John Scherba)49 of the UOCofUSA, which is in canonical affiliation with the Ecumenical Patriarch. By 2003, Metropolitan Mefodiy was elected to lead the UAOC and together with other bishops ended their recognition of Metropolitan Constantine as their spiritual leader. However, Archbishop Ihor of the Kharkiv-Poltava diocese50 continued to recognise the authority of the Ecumenical Patriarchate through the diaspora churches, specifically the Ukrainian Orthodox Church of the USA claiming to purport the legacy of Patriarch Mstyslav Skrypnyk. The Ecumenical Patriarch does not recognise Archbishop Ihor’s Church nor the UAOC under Metropolitan Mefodiy. At the same time, neither group recognises the other.51

Relations with other churches and religions As all three jurisdictions debate, disagree and maintain their divisions without state intervention, they are increasingly competing with other religious jurisdictions and denominations. The Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church, UGCC, numbers 3,646 parish communities. The UGCC honours and practices the same Eastern religious rituals as the Ukrainian Orthodox

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Church but recognises the Pope and belongs jurisdictionally to the Byzantine branch of the larger Roman Catholic Church. The Ukrainian Greek Catholics are rooted in western Ukraine but moved their headquarters to Kyiv. They have an increasingly widespread presence throughout Ukraine and strong support from a Diaspora Ukrainian Catholic Church in the Americas and Western Europe.52 The Roman Catholic Church of the Latin Rite53 has 909 parish communities. The combined significant presence of both the Byzantine and Latin branches of the Catholic Church warranted a papal visit by John Paul II in 2000.54 Both the retired Archbishop Cardinal Lubomyr Husar55 and current Archbishop Sviatoslav Shevchuk56 have reached out to all the Ukrainian Orthodox branches and the Orthodox jurisdictions have responded in the positive. Religious pluralism extends beyond the Orthodox and Catholic churches. A Protestant Christian presence continues to increase in Ukraine, with many new communities established and significant growth in the un-churched eastern regions of Ukraine.57 Leonid Chernovetskyi, now mayor of Kyiv in title only, was elected in 2006 as an avowed member of the Pentecostal Embassy of God that has come to represent the rapidly expanding charismatic evangelical movement.58 In addition to Christian groups one also finds growing numbers of Jewish, Muslim and other religious communities. As a basis of comparison, such religious plurality is not found in Russia as, for example, the Nigerian-born main pastor of the Ukrainian Pentecostal Embassy of God, Sunday Adelaja, was denied entry into Russia for missionary work.59 Religious policies between Ukraine and Russia have followed divergent paths and the division of Ukrainian Orthodoxy illustrates greater religious liberty60 and the civic proliferation of ‘religious denominationalism’.61 In comparison, the Russian Orthodox Church of the Moscow Patriarchate reigns supreme, with a near monopoly on religious affairs and policies. The further consolidation of the Russian Orthodox Church took place when the Moscow Patriarchate and Russian Orthodox Church outside Russia became canonically united.62 The election of the new Russian Orthodox Patriarch Kirill of Moscow in 2009 entailed a revived Russian attention to Ukraine, with Patriarch Kirill’s political project of bringing Ukraine into a ‘Ruskii Mir’ or Russian World having a resonance among Russo-centric members of the UOC-MP.63 Unlike Metropolitan Volodymyr’s openness to dialogue, Patriarch Kirill does not encourage a dialogue between himself and Patriarch Filaret; both Patriarchs instead engage in strident polemics.64 Patriarch Kirill formed a close political alliance with President Putin’s regime.65 Most notable examples of this church–state alliance have been the state response to the civic protest of the Pussy Riot ensemble in Moscow’s main cathedral66 and the proposal to establish a Eurasian Union drawing on its ‘civilisational and spiritual threads’.67 There is a pro-Russian UOC-MP hierarchy that challenges the autonomist and autocephalist movements in the UOC-MP and seeks a return to an eparchial status within the Russian Orthodox Church. This challenge included

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an attempt to take control of the Church during Metropolitan Volodymyr’s illness68 and continued criticism by Russian patriotic groups of Metropolitan Volodymyr’s autocephalist sympathies.69 Article 35 ‘On freedom of worship and religious organisations’, of the Ukrainian Constitution70 clearly emphasises the separation of church and state.71 President Viktor Yushchenko, following President Kuchma, supported ‘the principles of openness and transparency, consistent adherence to the principle of freedom of worship, non-interference in the internal affairs of churches and religious organisations, ensuring free development of all religious communities’.72 President Yushchenko was elected through the popular civic uprising of the Orange Revolution in 2005.73 This was a promising time of increased civic engagement and hoped-for greater democratisation. Yushchenko supported continued religious liberty and the strengthening of a civil society. He also, however, became directly engaged in negotiations with the Ecumenical Patriarch to establish a canonically recognised autocephalous Ukrainian Orthodox national church, which might be interpreted as state intrusion in religious affairs.74 Yushchenko was most closely associated with Patriarch Filaret and the Kyivan Patriarchate but respected all other jurisdictions. These consolidation and recognition initiatives were obviously unsuccessful; however, Yushchenko supported constitutionally guaranteed freedom of worship and establishment of religious communities. This policy has manifested itself in the rapid growth of religious communities with 55 denominations and 36,500 registered congregations (statistics for early 2012).75 Several public opinion polls of Ukrainians regarding trustworthy professions and institutions showed a very high level of trust in the church and clergy.76 Yanukovych also claimed adherence to these principles of civil liberties and the separation of church and state,77 yet there is growing concern over a parliamentary proposal to amend Article 35 and introduce restrictions.78 The All-Ukrainian Council of Churches and Religious Organisations (AUCCRO),79 which represents all religious denominations including the three Orthodox jurisdictions,80 met with President Yanukovych and requested that he veto the proposed amendment.81 The Institute of Religious Freedom in Ukraine publicises and supports religious liberties in support of strengthening civil society.82 The Ukrainian government officially maintains a neutral position on the conflicts between the Orthodox churches but also desires an eventual peaceful accommodation. Inter-church discussions and accusations related to the canonical or non-canonical status of Orthodox churches in Ukraine continue,83 while positive developments towards Orthodox accommodation might be slow but may yet prove possible. A roundtable discussion included all three Orthodox jurisdictions and the Greek and Roman Catholic churches, and focused upon future collaboration regarding youth ministry and the spiritual well-being of children. The meeting concluded with a proposal for establishing a Centre of Christian Cooperation.84 The AUCCRO, for example, came together to address common Ukrainian experiences of both the Holodomor and Holocaust tragedies.85 Perhaps the greatest opportunity for

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accommodation or even unification of Orthodox churches in Ukraine will come with the rise in influence of a new generation of Ukrainian Orthodox Church leaders and a focus on the spiritual needs of congregants. Steeped in the religious pluralism of Ukraine’s civil society and involved in the process of post-Soviet nation-building, these new leaders may just establish a united Ukrainian Orthodox Church founded on a Kyivan tradition and equal to all other national Orthodox churches as part of a larger Ukrainian mosaic of civic religious pluralism.86 Other alternatives are the development of separate jurisdictions reflecting regional, cultural and ecclesiastical tradition, a Ukrainian Orthodox Church that is autocephalous and returns to the historical Kyivan roots of canonical unity with the Ecumenical Patriarch of Constantinople and a Russian Orthodox Church branch as an eparchy of the Moscow Patriarchate serving the needs of Russo-centric faithful and clerics.87 Or the divisions may remain for as long the Moscow Patriarchate continues to acknowledge the autonomous and independent status of the UOC-MP and its Ukrainian identity as presented and defended by Metropolitan Volodymyr.88

Conclusion The break-up of the Soviet Union and establishment of an independent Ukrainian state introduced a transition from a state-controlled society to the rise of a civil society. Religious life came to the forefront of non-governmental civic engagement as an active religious revival took hold in Ukraine. The Sovietera Russian Orthodox Church in Ukraine soon devolved into three separate Orthodox jurisdictions. The Ukrainian Orthodox Church under canonical unity with the Moscow Patriarchate was granted autonomous but not autocephalous status with competing Ukrainian and Russian orientations. The Ukrainian Orthodox Church of the Kyivan Patriarchate seeks canonical recognition by world Orthodox churches as an autocephalous national church, as does the Ukrainian Orthodox Autocephalous Church. Although a majority of Ukrainian citizens self-identify as Orthodox Christians, Ukraine is a multi-confessional country which recognises freedom to worship. The All-Ukrainian Council of Churches and Religious Organisations reflects Ukraine’s civic religious pluralism. The divisions among the Orthodox churches of Ukraine reflect the regional diversity, varied interests and political divisions of independent Ukraine and the evolution of a civil society. A promising development is the ongoing dialogue among the three Orthodox jurisdictions.89

Appendix 1

Religious leaders

The Ukrainian Orthodox Church – Moscow Patriarchate Metropolitan Volodymyr (Viktor Markianovich Sabodan) (1935–), in office 1992–

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The Ukrainian Orthodox Church – Kyiv Patriarchate Patriarch Filaret (Mykhailo Antonovych Denysenko) (1929–), in office 1995– The Ukrainian Autocephalous Orthodox Church Metropolitan Mefodiy (Valeriy Andriyovich Kudriakov) (1949–), in office 2000– The Kharkiv and Poltava Ukrainian Autocephalous Orthodox Church Archbishop Ihor (Yuriy Isichenko) (1956–), in office 2003–. 2

Biography

Title: His Beatitude Volodymyr Metropolitan of Kyiv and All Ukraine. Metropolitan Volodymyr was born Victor Marklyanovych Sabodan on 23 November 1935 in the village of Markivtsy in the Letychivsky region of the Khmelnytskyi oblast in Ukraine. He studied at the Odessa Theological Seminary and the Leningrad Theological Academy. On 15 June 1962 he was ordained a priest and took monastic vows on 26 August 1962. He was consecrated a bishop on 9 July 1966. He held office as Bishop of Chernihiv and Nizhin, was later appointed Bishop of Dmitrivsk, Rector of the Moscow Theological Academy and Seminary and elevated to the rank of archbishop in 1973. Metropolitan Volodymyr was raised to the rank of metropolitan in 1982 and administered the Diocese of Rostov and Novocherkassk. In 1990 he was runner-up as one of three candidates for the patriarchal throne of Moscow. The Hierarchal Sobor of the Ukrainian Orthodox Church of the Moscow Patriarchate held in Kharkiv elected by a majority of sixteen out of eighteen votes Metropolitan Volodymyr as its leader on 27 May 1992.90 Title: His Holiness, Patriarch of Kyiv and All Rus-Ukraine. Patriarch Filaret was born Mykhailo Antonovych Denysenko on 23 January 1929 in the village of Blahodatne in the Donbas region of Ukraine. He studied at the Odessa Theological Seminary and the Moscow Theological Academy, took monastic vows in 1950 and was ordained in 1952. Archimandrite Filaret was consecrated a bishop in 1962 and served as vicar of the Leningrad Eparchy; he also served as bishop of Vienna and Austria. He returned to Moscow, and was delegated to Kyiv in 1966 and elevated to metropolitan in 1968. He served as an international representative of the Russian Orthodox Church and visited nearly 100 countries. Metropolitan Filaret was a candidate in 1990 in the election of a new Patriarch of the Russian Orthodox Church but was not elected. He became leader of the newly renamed Ukrainian Orthodox Church in 1990 that was granted an autonomous status. Metropolitan Filaret

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sought canonical autocephaly for the Ukrainian Orthodox Church in 1991, which was denied. In 1992 the Kharkiv Sobor replaced him as metropolitan with Metropolitan Volodymyr. Metropolitan Filaret joined the recently established Ukrainian Orthodox Church (uncanonical) under the leadership of Patriarch Mstyslav, who upon his death was succeeded by Patriarch Volodymyr (Romaniuk). Metropolitan Filaret was elevated to patriarch upon the death of Patriarch Volodymyr in 1995.91 Title: Metropolitan of Kyiv and All Ukraine. Metropolitan Mefodiy was born Valeriy Andriyovich Kudriakov on 11 March 1949 in the city of Kopychentsi, Husyatin region of Ternopil oblast Ukraine. He studied at the Moscow Theological Seminary and Academy and was ordained a priest in 1981, served in the Lviv and Ternopil diocese in western Ukraine and joined the Ukrainian Autocephalous Orthodox Church in 1990. Metropolitan Mefodiy was consecrated bishop by Patriarch Volodymyr (Romaniuk) in 1995 and served as chancellor of the Ukrainian Orthodox Church of the Kyivan Patriarchate. He joined the Ukrainian Autocephalous Orthodox Church in 1998 and was elected metropolitan and primate of the Church in 2000 as successor to Patriarch Dymytriy (Yarema).92 Title: Archbishop of Kharkiv and Poltava of the Ukrainian Autocephalous Orthodox Church. Archbishop Ihor was born Yuriy Isichenko in the Baskiriia region of Russia in 1956. He studied the history of Ukrainian literature at Kharkiv University, where he taught the history of Ukrainian literature of the tenth to eighteenth centuries from 1981 and was awarded the advanced degree of Candidate of Philosophical Sciences in 1987. He was a tonsured monk in 1992 and was ordained a priest and then consecrated bishop in 1993. He was appointed bishop of the Kharkiv-Poltava diocese of the Ukrainian Autocephalous Orthodox Church and was promoted to archbishop in 1997 by Patriarch Dymytriy. Upon Patriarch Dymytriy’s death, Archbishop Ihor recognised the authority of Metropolitan Constantine (Theodore Buggan) and his successor Metropolitan Antony (John Scharba) of the Ukrainian Orthodox Church of the USA. Archbishop Ihor claimed canonical union with the Ecumenical Patriarchate, although he is not recognised by Constantinople. Archbishop Ihor was deposed by Metropolitan Mefodiy of the UAOC. The KharkivPoltava Eparchy of Archbishop Ihor is registered as a unique religious confession by the Ukrainian government.93 3

Theological publications

The Ukrainian Orthodox Church – Moscow Patriarchate Tserkovna Pravoslavna hazeta [Orthodox Church Newspaper] Pravoslavnyi visnyk [Orthodox Messenger]

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Trudy KDA [Works of the Kyiv Seminary Academy] Akademichskii letopisets [Academic Chronicle]. The Ukrainian Orthodox Church – Kyiv Patriarchate Pravoslavnyi tserkovnyi kalendar [Orthodox Church Calendar] Pravoslavnyi visnyk [Orthodox Messenger]. The Ukrainian Autocephalous Orthodox Church Pravoslavnyi litopysets [Orthodox Chronicle]. The Kharkiv and Poltava Ukrainian Autocephalous Orthodox Church Nasha vira [Our Faith] Uspenska vezha [Dormition Tower]. 4

Congregations94

The Ukrainian Orthodox Church – Moscow Patriarchate Structure of the Church: 14 metropolitans, 15 archbishops, 15 bishops, 46 eparchies. Number of clergy and church buildings: 9,922 priests, 12,230 churches, 4,625 monks and nuns. The Ukrainian Orthodox Church – Kyiv Patriarchate Structure of the Church: patriarch, 8 metropolitans, 14 archbishops, 17 bishops, 29 eparchies. The number of clergy and church buildings: 3,088 priests, 4,455 churches, 175 monks and nuns. The Ukrainian Autocephalous Orthodox Church Structure of the Church: 4 metropolitans, 2 archbishops, 7 bishops, 14 eparchies, 3 vicariates. Number of clergy and church buildings: 730 priests, 1,208 churches, 10 monks and nuns. The Kharkiv and Poltava Ukrainian Autocephalous Orthodox Church Structure of the Church: 1 archbishop, 5 deaneries. Number of clergy and church buildings: 30 priests, 27 churches.

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Population95

The most recent published census is from 2001. Ukrainians form the largest nationality with 37,541,700 people making up 77.8 per cent of the population (an increase from 72.7 per cent in the 1989 census). Russians number 8,334,100 or 17.3 per cent of the general population (down from the 1989 census figure of 22.1 per cent). Belarusians, Moldavians and Crimean Tatars each number approximately 250,000. The 2001 census does not identify people by religion. The Razumkov Centre is a non-governmental think tank that implements Ukraine-wide opinion polls. A 2006 survey96 asked respondents to identify their religious affiliations. 14.9 per cent identified themselves with the Ukrainian Orthodox Church – Kyiv Patriarchate; 10.9 per cent as adherents of the Ukrainian Orthodox Church – Moscow Patriarchate; 5.3 per cent belonged to the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church; 1 per cent belonged to the Ukrainian Autocephalous Orthodox Church; Protestant, Roman Catholic and other religious groups represent less than 1 per cent of the general population.97

Acknowledgements This chapter draws on Zenon V. Wasyliw, ‘Orthodox Church Divisions in Newly Independent Ukraine, 1991–1995’, East European Quarterly, 41, 3 (September 2007), 305–22.

Notes 1 Jose Casanova, ‘Ethno-Linguistic and Religious Pluralism and Democratic Construction in Ukraine’, in Post-Soviet Political Order, Barnett R. Rubin and Jack Snyder (eds), New York: Routledge, 1998, pp. 81–103; Jose Casanova, ‘Incipient Religious Denominationalism in Ukraine and Its Effects on Ukrainian-Russian Relations’, Harriman Review, 1996, 9 (1–2), 38–42; Jose Casanova, Public Religions in the Modern World, Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1994; Mark D. Steinberg and Catherine Wanner (eds), Religion, Morality, and Community in Post-Soviet Societies, Bloomington and Indianapolis: Indiana University Press, 2008; Irena Borowik, ‘Between Orthodoxy and Eclecticism: On the Religious Transformation of Russia, Belarus and Ukraine’, Social Compass, 2002, 49 (4), 497–508; Larissa Titarenko, ‘On the Shifting Nature of Religion during the Ongoing Post-Communist Transformation in Russia, Belarus and Ukraine’, Social Compass, 2008, 55 (2), 237–54. 2 Frank E. Sysyn, ‘The Third Rebirth of the Ukrainian Autocephalous Orthodox Church and the Religious Situation in Ukraine, 1989–1991’, in Religion and Nation in Modern Ukraine, Frank Sysyn and Serhii Plokhy (eds), Edmonton: Canadian Institute of Ukrainian Studies Press, pp. 88–119. Viktor Yelensky, ‘The Revival before the Revival: Popular and Institutionalized Religion in Ukraine on the Eve of the Collapse of Communism’, in State Secularism and Lived Religion in Soviet Russia and Ukraine, Catherine Wanner (ed.), Oxford and New York: Oxford University Press, 2012, pp. 302–30. 3 John B. Dunlop, ‘The Russian Orthodox Church and Nationalism after 1988’, Religion in Communist Lands, 1990, 18 (4), p. 295; Nathaniel Davis, A Long Walk

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4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11

12 13

14

15

16 17 18 19

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to Church: A Contemporary History of Russian Orthodoxy, Boulder, CO: Westview Press, 1995. Radianska Ukraina [Soviet Ukraine], 4 November 1990; also, David Little, Ukraine, the Legacy of Intolerance, Washington, DC: United States Institute of Peace, 1991, p. 46. Sysyn, ‘The Third Rebirth’, pp. 98–100; Taras Kuzio and Andrew Wilson, Ukraine: Perestroika to Independence, Toronto: Canadian Institute of Ukrainian Studies Press, 1994, p. 91. ‘An Outline History of the Metropolia Center of the Ukrainian Orthodox Church of the USA’, http://www.uocofusa.org/history.html. Andrij Yurash, ‘Orthodox–Greek Catholic Relations in Galicia and their Influence on the Relisgious Situation in Ukraine’, Religion, State and Society, 2005, 33 (3), 185–205. Ibid. Mytropolyt Antoniy Masendych, ‘Chomu tak i ne inakshe?’ [Why this way and not another] Pravoslavnyi visnyk [Orthodox Messenger], nos. 9–12 (September– December 1992), p. 36. Ibid., p. 37. Mytropolyt Volodymyr, ‘Ukrainska Pravoslavna Tserkva na mezhi tysiacholit: zdobutky ta vyklyky’ [Ukrainian Orthodox Church on the Cusp of a Millennium: Achievments and Needs] (Do 20-ii richnytsi Kharkivskoho Soboru Iepyskopiv Ukrainskoi Pravoslavnoi Tserkvy) [On the 20th Anniversary of the Kharkiv Council of Bishops of the Ukrainian Orthodox Church], 29 Travnia 2012 [29 May 2012]: http://orthodox.org.ua/article/ukra%D1%97nska-pravoslavna-tserkva-namezh%D1%96-tisyachol%D1%96t-zdobutki-ta-vikliki. Masendych, ‘Chomu tak i ne inakshe?’, pp. 37–8. ‘Statut pro upravlinnia Ukrainskoi Pravoslavnoi Tserkvy’ [Governing Statutes of the Ukrainian Orthodox Church], http://orthodox.org.ua/page/statut-upts; ‘Statut RPTs pro UPTs’ [Statute of the Russian Orthodox Church on the Ukrainian Orthodox Church], http://orthodox.org.ua/page/statut-rpts-pro-upts. Mytropolyt Volodymyr, ‘Relihiine svitobachennia Tarasa Shevchenka’ [The Religious Worldview of Taras Shevchenko], 15 bereznia 2011 [15 March 2011], http:// orthodox.org.ua/article/rel%D1%96g%D1%96ine-sv%D1%96tobachennyatarasa-shevchenka. Mytropolyt Volodymyr, ‘Pamiat pro novyi Ierusalym: Kyivska Traditsiia’ [Memory of the New Jerusalem: The Kyivan Tradition], 27 veresnia 2009 [27 September 2009], http://orthodox.org.ua/article/pamyat-pro-novii%D1%94rusalim-ki%D1%97vska-tradits%D1%96ya. Mariia Senchukova, ‘Arkhiiepiskop Aleksandr (Drabinko): Optimistadministrator’, Liudy Tserkvy, 19 December 2012, http://www.portal-credo.ru/sit e/?act=news&id=87539&topic=769; The Archbishop also established a stavropegial Ukrainian-language liturgical parish in Kyiv: http://preobraz.kiev.ua/. Masendych, ‘Chomu tak i ne inakshe?’, p. 38. ‘Patriarkh Kyivskyi i vsiiei Rusy-Ukrainy Volodymyr’ [Patriarch of Kyiv and All Rus-Ukraine Volodymyr], Pravoslavnyi visnyk [Orthodox Messenger], nos. 10–12 (October–December 1993), p. 3. Ibid., p. 39. Patriarkh Filaret, ‘Ia vystupav ne vzahali proty avtokefalii – ia vystupav proty avtokefalii v umovakh Radianskoho Soiuzu! Bo vvazhav, shcho tse nerealno’ [I Was Not Entirely against Autocephaly – I Stood against Autocephaly Due to the Circumstances of the Soviet Union! I Considered it Unrealistic] (interview 22 hrudnia 2011) [22 December 2011], http://risu.org.ua/ua/index/expert_thought/ interview/46029/. ‘Postanovy sviashchenoho synodu Ukrainskoi Pravoslavnoi Tserkvy – Kyivskoho Patriarkhatu’ [Decrees of the Clerical Synod of the Ukrainian Orthodox

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29 30 31 32 33

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Church – Kyiv Patriarchate] Pravoslavnyi visnyk [Orthodox Messenger], nos. 9–12 (September–October 1992), pp. 4–9. Jaroslav Martyniuk, ‘News Analysis: The State of Ukraine’s Orthodox Church’, Ukrainian Weekly, 10 (6 March 1994), p. 2. Ibid., p. 9. Metropolitan Volodymyr received eighty-five votes, Metropolitan Filaret thirty-four votes, Metropolitan Ivan twenty-four votes and Bishop Yakov of Ternopil two votes, while two remaining votes were not cast. A. Zhukovskyi, ‘Stan Pravoslavnoi tserkvy v Ukraini’ [Status of the Orthodox Church in Ukraine], Ukrainske Pravoslavne Slovo [Ukrainian Orthodox Word], nos. 7–8 (1994), pp. 5–6. Ibid. p., 6. Zhukovskyi acquired these officially registered Council of Ministers figures from D. Stepovyk. Ibid., p. 6. See: http://risu.org.ua/en/index/resourses/statistics/ukr2011/48586/ Martyniuk, ‘News Analysis’, p. 8. ‘Dopovid zastupnyka Patriarkha Kyivskoho i vsiiei Rusy-Ukrainy Blazhenishoho Mytropolyta Kyivskoho Filareta’ [Lecture by the Representative of the Patriarch of Kyiv and all Rus-Ukraine His Beatitude Metropolitan of Kyiv Filaret], Pravoslavnyi visnyk [Orthodox Messenger], nos. 10–12 (1993), p. 19. Zhukovskyi, ‘Stan Pravoslavnoi tserkvy v Ukraini’, p. 6. I interviewed Metropolitan Filaret on 15 July 1994 at the Patriarchal residence located on Pushkin Street. An attempt to interview Metropolitan Volodymyr (Sabodan) of the Moscow Patriarchate was unsuccessful. ‘Nas zustrichav Baturyn …’ [Baturyn Greeting Us], Kyivskyi Patriarkhat [Kyiv Patriarchate], June 1994, p. 4. Serhyi Bilokin, ‘Dzherelo khrystiianskoi liubovy chy propovid ukrainozherstva’ [The Source of Christian Love or a Sermon of Ukraine-hatred], Svoboda, no. 125 (5 July 1995), p. 2. ‘Vystup prezydenta Ukrainy na zustrichi z predstavnykamy relihiinykh orhanizatsii’ [Presentation by the President of Ukraine at a Meeting with Representatives of Religious Organizations], Ukrainske Pravoslavne Slovo [Ukrainian Orthodox Word, no. 9 (1994), p. 4. Viktor Bondarenko and Viktor Ielenskyi, ‘Spasinnia dush – naivyshchyi zakon. Relihiini orhanizatsii Ukrainy: ohliad podii 1994 roku’ [Saving Souls – the Highest Law. Religious Organisations of Ukraine: A Review of Events of 1994], Liudyna i svit [People and the World], nos. 1–2 (January–February 1995), pp. 3–5. ‘A Brief History of the Ukrainian Orthodox Church of Canada’, http://www.uocc. ca/en-ca/about/history/. ‘Address of His Holiness Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomeos I’, Ukrainian Orthodox Word, 28 (4) (April 1995), p. 12. There was a smaller Ukrainian Orthodox Church in the United States in communion with the Ecumenical Patriarch led by Bishop Vsevolod which merged with the larger Ukrainian Orthodox Church in 1995. See also Roman Yereniuk, A Short Historical Outline of the Ukrainian Orthodox Church of Canada (UOCC), Winnipeg: Ukrainian Orthodox Church of Canada, 2008, and Roman Yereniuk (ed.), The Ukrainian Orthodox Church: Selected Historical Topics of the XVII–XVIII c. and the Ukrainian Canadian Diaspora, Lviv: Litopys, 2010. ‘Povidomlennia’ [Announcements], Svoboda [Freedom], no. 79 (28 April 1995), p. 3. Decrees of the Ukrainian Orthodox Church – Kyiv Patriarchate Synod of 11 April 1995 are listed. ‘Pomer patriarch UPTs KP Volodymyr’ [Patriarch Volodymyr of the UOC-KP has Died], Svoboda [Freedom], no. 134 (18 July, 1995), p. 1. St Sophia’s was and is maintained by the Ukrainian government as a museum. Religious services are allowed only on rare and special occasions. Both Ukrainian

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Orthodox jurisdictions covet the cathedral for it was built in the times of the ancient Kyivan State and is valued as the historic centre of Orthodoxy in Ukraine. Serhii Plokhy, ‘Church, State and Nation in Ukraine’, Newberg, OR: George Fox University, 1999, pp. 20–1 (previously unpublished, translated from Ukrainian original by Myroslav Yurkevich), http://www.georgefox.edu/academics/undergrad/ departments/soc-swk/ree/Plokhy_Church_Oct%201999.pdf. Joseph R. Gregory, ‘Ukraine: Christians in Conflict’, First Things, March 1997, http://www.firstthings. com/article/2007/12/003-ukraine-christians-in-conflict-2. The former official website of the UOC-KP noted that a number of potential candidates refused nomination as Patriarch. Metropolitan Filaret accepted nomination with the final secret delegate vote of 160 in favour, 4 against and 9 abstentions. ‘Korotka istoriia stvorennia Ukrainskoi Pravoslavnoi Tserkvy Kyivskoho Patriarkhatu’ [A Short History of the Establishment of the Ukrainian Orthodox Church of the Kyiv Patriarchate], Ukrainska Pravoslavna Tserkva Kyivskoho Patriarkhatu [Ukrainian Orthodox Church of the Kyivan Patriarchate], 4, http:// www.kievpatr.org.ua/history.html (no longer active). An updated official site is http://cerkva.info; ‘Canonical Status. The National Ukrainian Orthodox Church Kyiv Patriarchate’, http://cerkva.info/en/canonical-status.html. These and forthcoming statistics for other religious organisations referred to this chapter are based upon statistics generated by the Ukrainian government’s National Committee on Religious Matters of Ukraine, ‘Religious Organizations in Ukraine as of 1 January, 2011’, at http://risu.org.ua/ua/index/resources/statistics/ ukr2011. It is also important to note other smaller Orthodox jurisdictions and the number of registered parish communities: Russian Orthodox Old Believers – 54, Russian Orthodox Old Believers (non-priest agreement) – 11, Russian Orthodox Church Abroad – 28, Russian Truly-Orthodox Church – 29, other Orthodox Religious Organisations – 99. ‘Blazhennishyi Mytropolyt Volodymyr: Pomisna Tserkva v Ukraini isnuie’ [His Beatitude Metropolitan Volodymyr, A Particular Church Exists in Ukraine]. ‘Interviu Predstoiatelia Ukrainskoi Pravolavnoi Tserkvy biuro Associated Press’ [Interview of the Ruling Hierarch of the Ukrainian Orthodox Church by the Associated Press], Ukrainska Pravoslavna Tserkva [Ukrainian Orthodox Church], 1–2, http://archiv.orthodox.org.ua/page-1690.html. Oksana Lihostova, ‘Patriarkh Filaret pro problemy vyznanniam’ [Patriarch Filaret on the Problems of Recognition], Holos Ameryky [Voice of America], 15 May 2006. Also note comments regarding interference from Moscow – ‘Filaret zvynuvachuie Rosiiu u pidstupnykh namirakh’ [Filaret Blames Russia with Nefarious Plans], UNIAN, Informatsiine ahenstvo [UNIAN, Information Agency], 15 May 2006, http://www.unian.net/ukr/news/news-154633.html. Official site of the UAOC led by Metropolitan Mefodiy: http://uaoc.net, and an affiliated site: http://www.bogoslov.org. ‘Zhurnaly Sviashchennoho Synodu Ukrainskoi Pravoslavnoi Tserkvy vid 9 liutoho 2006 roku’ [Journals of the Holy Clerical Synod of the Ukrainian Orthodox Church of 9 February of 2006], Ukrainska Pravoslavna Tserkva, http://archiv. orthodox.org.ua/page-2119.html. Journal 4 of the 9 February 2006 Synod notes unification talks between the UOC-MP and UAOC in 1995 and 2005. ‘Patriarkh Filaret pro problemy z vyznanniam’ [Patriarch Filaret on the Problems of Recognition], cerkva.info. Vydannia Kyivskoi Patriarkhii, 22 May 2006, http:// cerkva.info/2006/05/22/press.html. ‘USA Orthodox Bishop in Lviv to Discuss Return of Parish to Constantinople, Say Locals’ RISU, 7 June 2006, http://www.risu.org.ua/eng/news/article;10489/ (site no longer online). Also see, Archbishop Ihor of Kharkv and Poltava of the UAOC, ‘Today, Ecclesiastical Prospects Demand from us the Gradual Development into a

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Single National Church’ RISU, 25 May 2006, http://www.risu.org.ua/eng/religion. and.society/interview/article;10357/ (site no longer online). ‘His Eminence Metropolitan Antony’, The Ukrainian Orthodox Church of the United States of America, http://www.uocofusa.org/archbishop_antony.html. Kharkiv-Poltava Exarchate of UAOC led by Archbishop Ihor: http://www.uapc. org.ua/en/; Archbishop Ihor’s homepage: http://www.bishop.kharkov.ua/en/ content/biography; an affiliated on line journal Nasha vira [Our Faith]: http:// nashavira.ukrlife.org. Anatolii Babynskyi, ‘Ukrainska Avtokefalna Tserkva’ [Ukrainian Autocephalous Orthodox Church], RISU, 20 June 2011, pp. 12–13, http://risu.org.ua/ua/index/reference/major_religions/~%D0%A3%D0%90%D0%9F%D0%A6/33294/. There is yet a fifth UAOC-canonical jurisdiction under the leadership of Patriarch Moses/ Moisey (Oleg Koulik): http://www.soborna.org, English version, http://www. soborna.org/news/en/2013/. See: http://www.ugcc.org.ua/. This official website offers much information on the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church and its leader Cardinal/Patriarch Lubomyr Husar moving the church’s headquarters from the western Ukrainian city of Lviv to the nation’s capital of Kyiv Also see Yurash, ‘Orthodox–Greek Catholic Relations’ and Bohdan Bociurkiw, ‘Politics and Religion in Ukraine: The Orthodox and Greek Catholics’, in The Politics of Religion in Russia and the New States of Eurasia, Michael Bourdeaux (ed.), Armonk, NY: M. E. Sharpe, 1995, pp. 131–62. Roman Catholic Church in Ukraine: http://www.rkc.lviv.ua. ‘Ukraine Responds to Papal Visit’, RISU, http://www.risu.orh.ua/eng/religion. and.society/papa.visit/. Offers links to responses of the Ukrainian Orthodox Churches. ‘UHKTs maie nabahato bilshe cpilnoho z Pravoslavnymy, nizh z RymoKatolykymy – Blaznennishii Liubomyr’ [The Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church has much more in Common with Orthodox (Christians) rather than with Roman Catholics – His Beatitude Liubomyr], 17 December 2011, http://www.kyrios.org. ua/church/ugcc/3546-ugkts-mae-nabagato-bilshe-spilnogo-z-pravoslavniminizh-zrimo-katolikami-blazhennishij-ljubomir.html. ‘U Kyievi vidbulasia ofitsiina zustrich Hlavy UHKTs iz Predstoiatelem UPTs (MP)’ [An Official Meeting took place in Kyiv by the Leader of the UGCC and the First Hierarch of the UOC (MP)], 23 August 2011, http://risu.org.ua/ua/index/ all_news/confessional/interchurch_relations/43989. Catherine Wanner, ‘Advocating New Moralities: Conversion to Evangelicalism in Ukraine’, Religion, State and Society, 2003, 31 (3), 273–87, offers an overview and assessment of this movement. Also note the significant number of communities found on the religious statistics websites; a few examples include All-Ukraine Union of the Association of Evangelical Christian Baptists – 2,539, All-Ukraine Union of Christians of the Evangelical Faith Pentecostals – 1,496, Seventh-day Adventists Church – 1022, Jehovah’s Witnesses – 671: http://risu.org.ua/en/index/ resourses/statistics/ukr2011/48586/. ‘Chernovetsky stood up for Sunday Andelaja’, The Embassy of the Blessed Kingdom of God for All Nations, 22 March 2009, http://www.godembassy.com/ main/the-truth/item/468-chernovetsky-stood-up-for-sunday-adelaja.html. ‘Nigeriisko-ukrainskii propovednik govorit, chto iego ne pustili v Rossiiu’ [AfricanUkrainian Preacher Says He was not Allowed Entry into Russia], Interfax, 31 May 2006, http://www.interfax-religion.ru/print.php?act=news&id=11844. Myroslaw Tataryn, ‘Russia and Ukraine: Two Models of Religious Liberty and Two Models for Orthodoxy’, Religion, State and Society, 2001, 29 (3), 156–72; Vasyl Markus, ‘Politics and Religion in Ukraine: In Search of a New Pluralistic Dimension’, in The Politics of Religion in Russia, Bourdeaux (ed.), pp. 163–81;

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Serhii Plokhy, ‘State Politics and Religious Pluralism in Russia and Ukraine: A Comparative Perspective’, in Protecting the Human Rights of Religious Minorities in Eastern Europe, Peter G. Danchin and Elizabeth Cole (eds), New York: Columbia University Press, 2002, pp. 297–315. Casanova, ‘Ethno-Linguistic’. Olga Lipich, ‘Russian Orthodox Church Outside of Russia to join Moscow Patriarchate’, RIA Novosti [RIA News], 21 June 2005, http://en.rian.ru/society/20050621/40555919.html. Andrew Sorokowski, ‘Two Visions of East Slavic Christendom’, RISU, 16 November 2011, http://risu.org.ua/en/index/expert_thought/authors_columns/asorokowski_column/45468/; Viktor Yelenskyj, ‘The Patriarch Gave the Ukrainian Society One of the Strongest Reintegration Messages in all of the History of Independent Ukraine’, RISU, 7 August 2009, http://risu.org. ua/en/index/expert_thought/interview/30894/; Elena Rubinova, ‘Disciples of the Russian World’, Russia Profile, 13 April 2010, http://russiaprofile.org/culture_living/a1271168225.html. ‘Secretar Odesskoi eparkhii UOTs o. Andrei Novikov neozhidanno dlia sebia otkryl ‘podlinnyi proryv’ v otnoshenniakh V. Putina I Patriarkha Kirilla i zaiavil o ‘providentsialnoi missi Russkogo Mira’ [The secretary of the Odessa eparchy of the PTTs Father Andrii Novikov has personally realized an awakening in relations between V. Putin and Patriach Kirill and their providential mission of the Russian World], Relihiia v Ukraini [Religion in Ukraine], 15 November 2011, http://www.religion.in.ua/news/ ukrainian_news/13051-sekretar-odesskoj-eparxii-upc-o-andrej-novikovneozhidanno-dlya-sebya-otkryl-podlinnyj-proryv-v-otnosheniyax-vputina-ipatriarxa-kirilla-i-zayavil-o-providencialnoj-missii-russkogo-mira.html. ‘Russkiy Mir’ [Russian World], http://www.russkiymir.ru/russkiymir/en/. ‘Kyrylo proty Filareta: Vselenski superechky’ [Kirill against Filaret: Ecumenical arguments], Pomisna Tserkava, V poshukakh tserkovnoi iednosti [The Particular Church, in Search of Church Unity], 25 January 2013, http://www.pomisna. in.ua/2013/01/syperechky.html. Timothy Grove, ‘Church Should Have More Control over Russian Life: Putin’, Reuters, 1 February 2013, http://www.reuters.com/article/2013/02/01/us-russiaputin-church-idUSBRE91016F20130201; Vadim Nikitin, ‘Is Russia Becoming a Theocracy?’, Foreign Policy Association, 3 February 2013, http://foreignpolicyblogs.com/2013/02/03/is-russia-becoming-a-theocracy/. Tom Esslemont, ‘Russian Orthodox Church Defiant over Pussy Riot Trial’, BBC News Europe, 10 August 2012, http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-europe-19207439; Stepahnie Ennis, ‘Russian Church leader under fire afer backing Putin’, BBC News Europe, 10 April 2012, http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-europe-17667782. ‘Putin postavil zadachu postroit Eivraziiskii soiuz ‘na novoi tsennostnoi, politicheskoi, ekonomicheskoi osnove’ dlia sokhraneniia ‘miriadov tsivilizatsionnykhdukhovnykh nitei’’ [Putin has set as a goal building a Eurasian union on the basis of new values, politics and economics for the preservation of a myriad of civilisational and spiritual common threads], Relihiia v Ukraini, 7 July 2011, http://www.religion.in.ua/news/ukrainian_news/news/foreign_news/12348-putinpostavil-zadachu-postroit-evrazijskij-soyuz-na-novoj-cennostnoj-politicheskojyekonomicheskoj-osnove.html. See: http://russiaprofile.org/international/40917.html. Artem Skoropadskii, ‘Vladimirskii spor. Glavu UPTs MP obvinili v stremlenii k avtokefalii’ [A Valdimirian Dispute. The Leader of the UOC MP is accused of autocephalist aspirations], Relihii v Ukraini (originally published at Kommersant. ua), 29 March 2012, http://www.religion.in.ua/zmi/ukrainian_zmi/15598-vladimirskij-spor-glavu-upc-mp-obvinili-v-stremlenii-k-avtokefalii.html.

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70 Constitution of Ukraine, passed 28 June 1996, specifically note Title II, Article 35, http://static.rada.gov.ua/site/const_eng/constitution_eng.htm. 71 Interview with Ihor Volodymyrovych Bondarchuk, director of Ukraine’s State Department on Religious Matters, ‘The Political Leadership of the Country Makes Much Effort to Further Harmonize Church–State Relations and to Facilitate the Spiritual Elevation of Ukrainian Society’, RISU, 2 December 2005, p. 4. 72 Ibid., p. 4. 73 Instytut Prezydenta Ukrainy, Viktor Yushchenko, ‘Yedyna Pomisna Tserkva’ [A Unitary Particular (Local) Church], http://yushchenkoinstitute.org/institute/ projects/31/; The Institute of the President. Viktor Yushchenko, English-language homepage, http://yushchenkoinstitute.org/en/. A more critical apparaisal of Yushchenko’s legacy can be found in Taras Kuzio, ‘Corruption Flourished under Yushchenko’, Kyiv Post, 16 October 2011, http://www.kyivpost.com/opinion/letters/corruption-flourished-under-yushchenko-115050.html. 74 Maria Danilova, ‘Ukrainian president wants national church’, Pew Forum on Religion and Public Life, 26 July 2008, http://www.pewforum.org/Religion-News/ Ukrainian-president-wants-national-church.aspx; ‘Religion and Politics in the Ukraine’, Religion, Ethics, and Politics in World Affairs, 18 August 2011, http:// www.scu.edu/ethics-center/world-affairs/politics/By_Countries_Regions/Ukraine. cfm. 75 ‘V Ukraini diie 55 konfesii ta 36.5 tysiach relihiinykh orhanizatsii – ofitsiina statystyka’ [55 Confessional Groups and 36,500 Religious Organisations (Communities) Operate in Ukraine – by Official Statistics], http://risu.org.ua/ua/index/all_news/ state/church_state_relations/47741. 76 ‘Ukraintsy bolshe vsego doveriaiut SMI i tserkvi’ [Ukrainians’ Most Trust Organizations of Mass Information (the Media) and Churches], Korrespondent.net [Correspondent], 24 May 2006, http://www.korrespondent.net/main/154619; ‘Do you trust the representatives of the following profession?’, Razumkov poll held on 16–22 January 2006, http://www.razumkov.org.ua/eng/poll.php?poll_id=83b. ‘Do you trust the church?’, Razumkov poll recurrent, 2000–11, http://www.razumkov. org.ua/eng/poll.php?poll_id=254. 77 For a synopsis of presidential politics and Orthodox Church relations see, Nikolay Mitrokhin, ‘Orthodoxy in Ukrainian Political Life 2004–2009’, Religion, State and Society, 2010, 38 (3), 229–51. 78 ‘Parlamentu proponuiut zakonodavcho zakripyty ‘podviinu’ reiestratsiiu relihiinykh orhanizatsii’ [Parliament is Proposing Laws to Strengthen ‘Dual’ Registration of Religious Organisations], 17 May 2012, Instytut relihiinoi svobody, m. Kyiv [Institute of Religious Freedom, City of Kyiv], http://www.irs.in.ua/index. php?option=com_content&task=view&id=1052&Itemid=61. 79 The Ukrainian Council of Churches: http://www.vrciro.org.ua. 80 Yuriy Chornomorets, ‘Yuriy Chornomorets on the inter-Orthodox dialogue in Ukraine’ RISU, 23 January 2013, http://risu.org.ua/en/index/expert_thought/ comments/51011/. 81 ‘Na zustrichi z Prezydentom hlavy konfesii zaklykaly vetuvaty zminy do Zakonu pro svobodu sovisti’ [Leaders of (Religious) Confessions Meet the President and Request He Veto the Freedom of Conscience Law], 17 October 2012, Instytut relihiinoi svobody, m. Kyiv [Institute of Religious Freedom, Kyiv], http://www.irs. in.ua/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=1129%3A1&catid=34% 3Aua&Itemid=61&lang=uk. 82 Institute for Religious Freedom, http://www.irs.in.ua/eng; Maksym Vasin, ‘Characteristics of Development of Inter-confessional Relations in Ukraine’, Religion in Eastern Europe, 2010, 30 (1), http://www.georgefox.edu/academics/ undergrad/departments/soc-swk/ree/Vasin_Characteristics_Feb%202010.pdf.

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83 Klara Hudzik, ‘Shche raz pro tserkovni kanony’ [Once Again Concerning Church Canons], Den. Shchodenna Vseukrainska Hazeta [The Day. The All-Ukrainian Daily Newspaper], no. 104, 30 June 2006, http://www.day.kiev.ua/164491. 84 ‘Faithful of 3 Orthodox Jurisdictions, Catholics of Ukraine Discuss Cooperation’, RISU, 19 May 2006, http://www.risu.org.ua/eng/news/article;10277/. 85 ‘Rada Tserkov zaklykaie do hruntovnykh doslidhzen trahedii Holodomoru ta Holokostu v Ukraini’ [The Council of Churches calls for foundational research on the Holodomor and Holocaust tragedies in Ukraine], Instytut relihiinoi svobody, 12 October 2012, http://www.irs.in.ua/index.php?option=com_content&view=arti cle&id=1123%3A1&catid=34%3Aua&Itemid=61&lang=uk. 86 Yurii Chornomorets, ‘Is There a Chance for a Single Orthodox Church in the Future of Ukraine?’, RISU, 2 March 2010, http://risu.org.ua/en/index/expert_ thought/analytic/34638/; Oleksandr Sahan, ‘Ponyattya Kyivskoho Khrystianstva joho tserkovna ta prostorova-chasova identifikatsiia’ [Conceptualisations of Kyivan Christianity, its Church and Long-Enduring Identity], Relihiia v Ukraini, 28 August 2011; http://www.religion.in.ua/main/analitica/main/analitica/main/ analitica/main/analitica/main/analitica/11408-ponyattya-kiyivskogo-xristiyanstva-jogo-cerkovna-ta-prostorovo-chasova-identifikaciya.html; http://cerkva.info/ en/articles-and-reports/2151-patr-slovo-na-akademii.html; ‘U svoii khati – svoia pravda. Interviu iepyskopa UPTs KP Ievstratiia pro sytuatsiiu v Ukrainskomu Pravoslavii’ [Your truth is found in your home. An interview with the UOC-KP Bishop Ievstratii on the situation of Ukrainian Orthodoxy], Relihiia v Ukraini, 25 July 2011, http://www.religion.in.ua/zmi/ukrainian_zmi/11105-u-svoyij-xatisvoya-pravda-intervyu-yepiskopa-upc-kp-yevstratiya-pro-situaciyu-v-ukrayinskomu-pravoslavyi.html; Senchukova, ‘Arkhiiepiskop Aleksandr (Drabinko)’. For the UAOC perspective, see the personal site of Protoeierei Ievhen Zapletniuk at http://www.bogoslov.org. See also http://www.religion.in.ua/main/history/4812avtokefalna-cerkva-na-mezhitisyacholit.html and http://risu.org.ua/ua/index/ expert_thought/interview/51127/. 87 Recent interview with religious affairs expert Andrii Iurash, Viktoriia Matola, ‘Ekspert: iednist UPTs – okozamiliuvannia’, Tyzhden, 29 January 2013. A summary can be found in ‘Relihieznavets: V UPTs (MP) ie fashysty, ale ie I adekvatna molod’ [Religion expert: Pravoslavnyi ohliadach], 29 January 2013, http://pravoslavnews.com.ua/news/jednist_upc_illuzija/; http://risu.org.ua/ua/index/expert_ thought/interview/51127/; Zenon V. Wasyliw, ‘Patriarch Kirill and Political Orthodoxy’, Kyiv Post, 30 July 2009, http://www.kyivpost.com/opinion/op-ed/ patriarch-kirill-and-political-orthodoxy-46190.html; Metropolitan Volodymyr, ‘Ukrainske Pravoslav’ia na rubezhi epokh. Vyklyky suchasnosti, tendentsii rozvytku’ [Ukrainian Orthodoxy on the Boundaries of Epochs. Contemporary Needs, Developmental Tendencies], Ukrainska Pravoslavna Tserkva [Ukrainian Orthodox Church], http://orthodox.org.ua/http%3A/%252Forthodox.org.ua/ uk/node/3165; Anatoliy Khlivnyi, ‘Church Opposition. Metropolitan Sofroniy Dmytruk talks about the intrigue surrounding the election of the Primate of the Ukrainian Orthodox Church of the Moscow Patriarchate’, Ukrainian Week, 14 March 2012, http://ukrainianweek.com/Society/43732; ‘Sviatiishyi Patriarkh Filaret zvernuvsia do Predstoiateliv Pomisnykh Pravoslavnykh Tserkov’ [His Holiness Patriarch Filaret Addressed Leaders of Particular (Local) Orthodox Churches], Ukrainska Pravoslavna Tserkva Kyivskyi Patriarkhat [Ukrainian Orthodox Church Kyievan Patriarchate], 17 January 2013, http://www.cerkva. info/en/news/patriarch/3039-predstojateliam.html; “Patriarch Filaret Asks Ecumenical Orthodoxy Not to Consider Question of Autocephaly without Kyivan Patriarchate’, RISU, 17 January 2013, http://risu.org.ua/en/index/ all_news/orthodox/orthodox_world/50927/.

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88 ‘Dopovid mytropolyta Kyivskoho i vsiiei Ukrainy Volodymyr na Arkhiiereiskomu Sobori Ruskoi Pravoslavnoi Tserkvy’ [Speech of the Metropolitan of Kyiv and all Ukraine Volodymyr at the Hierarchical Sobor of the Russian Orthodox Church], Ruska Pravoslavna Tserkva [Russian Orthodox Church], 3 February 2013, http:// www.patriarchia.ru/ua/db/text/2772216.html. 89 A site dedicated to Orthodox Church unity in Ukraine, ‘Pomisna Tserkva, v poshukakh tserkovnoi iednosti’ [The Particular (Local) Church, in Search of Church Unity], http://www.pomisna.in.ua/, was established in collaboration among the three Ukrainian Orthodox Church jurisdictions, ‘Ofitsiino vidkryto sait ‘Pomisna Tserkva!’ [The Site ‘Particular (Local) Church’ has Officially Opened], http:// uaoc.net/2013/01/pomisna-2/. The Religious Information Service of Ukraine is a valuable internet site edited by Taras Antoshvsk’kyy that offers information and analysis on all religious affiliations and organizations in Ukraine and includes an English-language version: http://risu.org.ua/en/index. The Razumkov Centre published a comprehensive, eighty-two-page overview and analysis of surveys related to religious life in Ukraine and relationships with the state based on a roundtable presentation on state-confessional relations in Ukraine within the larger context supporting freedom of conscience as guaranteed by the United Nations and European Union. Surveys reflect levels of religiosity, denominational selfidentification and church attendance: ‘Relihiia i vlada v Ukraini: problemy vzaiemovidnosyn’. Informatsiino-analitychni matrialy do Kruhloho stolu na temu: ‘Derzhavno-konfesiini vidnosyny v Ukraini, iikh osoblyvosti i tendentsii rozvytku, 8 liutoho 2011r’ [Religion and State in Ukraine: Problems with Interrelationships. Informational Analytical Materials from a Round Table on the Theme: State Confessional Relations in Ukraine, Their Uniquenesses and Developmental Tendencies, 8 February 2011], Kyiv, 2011. English-language summary, ‘Razumkov Center Analyzes Religious Tendencies for Last 10 Years’, RISU, 8 February 2011, http://risu.org.ua/en/index/all_news/community/social_questioning/40576/. 90 See: http://orthodox.org.ua. 91 See: http://risu.org.ua and http://www.cerkva.info. 92 See: http://risu.org.ua and http://uaoc.net. 93 See: http://risu.org.ua and http://www.uapc.org.ua. 94 ‘Relihiini orhanizatsii v Ukraini (stanom na 1 sichnia 2012 r.)’. Dani Derzhavnoho departamentu u spravakh natsionalostei ta relihii [Religious organisations in Ukraine (as of 1 January 2012). Information of the State Department on matters of nationalities and religion], at http://risu.org.ua. 95 ‘Vseukrainskii perepys naselennia 2001’. Derzhavnyi komitet statystyky Ukrainy, Kyiv, 2001 [All-Ukrainian population census 2001. State Committee on Statistics of Ukraine, Kyiv, 2001], http://2001.ukrcensus.gov.ua/results/general/nationality/. 96 See: http://www.razumkov.org.ua/ukr/poll.php?poll_id=300. The population of Ukraine in 2006 was estimated at 46,710,816. 97 ‘Relihiia i vlada v Ukraini: problemy vzaiemovidnosyn’.

17 The Belarusian Orthodox Church Sergei A. Mudrov

Belarus approached the end of the Soviet era with a heavy legacy of the communist atheist policy, which was aimed at the complete removal of religion from the public and private spheres.1 In 1988 the number of believers in one of the then republics of the USSR ranged between 10 and 15 per cent.2 Religious communities were not allowed to take part in public life; their access to mass media was virtually non-existent. The Orthodox Church in Belarus had suffered severely from the antireligious policy of previous decades. Many church buildings, confiscated by the state, were used as libraries, entertainment clubs or even storehouses. Some of them were ruined or abandoned. No seminary functioned in Belarus; therefore those who wished to receive theological education had no option other than to go to one of the few Orthodox seminaries in other parts of the USSR – Moscow, Leningrad (St Petersburg) or Odessa. Monasticism was close to stagnation, with the only functioning monastery in the village of Zhirovichi (Grodno region, Western Belarus). The number of monks in Zhirovichi did not rise for years, although there was a slight increase in the number of nuns in the female monastic community of the convent in Grodno. This community was also moved to Zhirovichi on a temporary basis, after its premises and the cloister in Grodno were confiscated by the Soviet authorities.3 With the beginning of perestroika and after the Chernobyl tragedy in 1986, which severely affected Belarus,4 the religiosity of the Belarusian people began to grow, with more attention devoted to the Orthodox Church. This was accompanied by the gradual lifting of the discriminatory laws on religion. In 1988, marked by the celebration of the 1,000th anniversary of the baptism of Rus’, the attitude of the Communist authorities towards religious communities began to change, with some important restrictions removed. For example, clergy were given some access to the mass media; they were also allowed to speak to a wider audience in various institutions. After the decades of decline, the prospects for religious revival looked promising, especially for the dominant Orthodox confession. It is therefore pertinent to take the year 1988 as the starting point of the analysis in this chapter, which examines the main developments in the Orthodox Church in Belarus. The structure of the chapter is organised around

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the principal events in the life of the Church and the main thematic directions, namely church–state relations, education and information policy.

Orthodoxy in Belarus Belarus accepted Christianity from the Byzantine Empire, with the establishment of the first diocese (the Polotsk diocese) in 992, which is regarded as the year of the foundation of the Belarusian Orthodox Church. Orthodoxy was the dominant faith in the Belarusian lands for several centuries, and Belarusians, as Afanasiy Martos notes, ‘liked their churches and regularly attended all services’.5 However, in 1596 most hierarchs in the Orthodox Church of Rzech Pospolita (at that time under the jurisdiction of the Constantinople Patriarchate) agreed to union with the Catholic Church, accepting the authority of the Pope and the key Catholic doctrines, but keeping Orthodox rites (the Brest Union). The establishment of the Uniate Church was solely the initiative of political leaders and hierarchs, not supported by the majority of the clergy and laity.6 Therefore the power of Polish kings was subsequently used to force the Belarusian population to convert to Uniatism. This process, which was accompanied by the violent persecution of Orthodox believers, resulted in two centuries in the situation whereby the Uniate confession became formally dominant. As church historian Valentina Teplova emphasised: In spite of the strong resistance of the Orthodox people and ordinary clergy, the authorities (both spiritual and temporal) were able by means of the provision of substantial benefits, by threats and repressions, to forcibly introduce Uniatism into the Belarusian lands. At the end of the eighteenth century around 80 per cent of Belarusian peasants were Uniates.7 The Union was gradually rejected after Belarus joined the Russian Empire at the end of the eighteenth century (as a result of three partitions of Rzech Pospolita in 1772, 1793 and 1795). The process of return from Uniatism to Orthodoxy was mainly voluntary and peaceful, apart from a small number of cases which were related to political controversies.8 The culminating point came in 1839, when the official unification of the Uniates with the Russian Orthodox Church took place. The decision about unification was adopted in February 1839, by the Council of the Uniate Church held in Polotsk,9 which was presented by Afanasiy Martos as: ‘thus ended the existence of Brest Union, which brought so much grief and suffering to Belarusian people’.10 Attempts to revive Uniatism were made in Belarus in the late 1980s, but failed, although the Uniate (Greek Catholic) Church was established and obtained official registration. At present, the Uniate Church exists as a marginal denomination, with only fourteen parishes in Belarus (as of 1 January 2010).11

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Soon after the Bolshevik revolution (1917), Belarus was partitioned between Poland and the USSR (as a result of the 1921 Riga Treaty). In the Soviet part of Belarus, the Orthodox Church faced violent persecution from the communist authorities. Three dioceses functioned in Soviet Belarus: Minsk, Mogilev and Polotsk-Vitebsk. In July 1922 the clergy of the Minsk Diocese proclaimed the autonomy of the Belarusian Orthodox Church, which was virtually limited to the borders of the diocese.12 Furthermore, in October 1927 the clergy of the same diocese unilaterally declared the autocephaly of the Belarusian Church.13 However, this decision was not supported by the Mogilev and Polotsk-Vitebsk dioceses. Furthermore, this state of affairs was complicated by the spread of the Renovationism schism across the country.14 Consequently, in May 1929 in Eastern (Soviet) Belarus only 424 parishes (out of 1,123) were subordinated to Metropolitan Sergii (Stragorodskii) in Moscow, a deputy to the Patriarchal locum tenens since 1925. These parishes were mainly in Mogilev and Polotsk-Vitebsk dioceses, while 386 parishes, mainly of Minsk diocese, belonged to the ‘autocephalous’ Church and 313 parishes were from the Renovationist Church.15 The autocephaly of the Minsk diocese ended in 1935, as a result of secret negotiations between Bishop Philaret (Ramenskiy), who was in charge of the autocephalous church, and Archbishop Pavlin (Kroshechkin) of Mogilev.16 Both hierarchs were later executed by the communist authorities. In the late 1930s the Orthodox Church in Belarus was totally devastated; in summer 1939 the last Orthodox parish, which functioned in Bobruisk, was closed. There were no Orthodox services in Eastern Belarus from summer 1939 to summer 1941, excluding two catacomb churches in Mogilev and Gomel.17 The Orthodox Church was also oppressed in the Polish part of Belarus, although not to the same degree as in Stalin’s USSR. It functioned as part of the Polish Autocephalous Church, whose autocephaly was unilaterally declared in April 1925. Around 500 parishes in Belarusian dioceses were closed by the Polish authorities.18 After the reunification of Belarus in 1939 when Western Belarus was united with the Byelorussian Soviet Socialist Republic, the repressions of the Soviet regime against religion were extended to the western part of the country, though these were modest compared to what had previously taken place in the rest of Belarus.19 Orthodox dioceses in Western Belarus became part of the Exarchate of Western Belarus and Ukraine of the Moscow Patriarchate, established in October 1939.20 During the German occupation (1941–4), it was possible to restore previously closed Orthodox churches, an opportunity which was actively taken by believers, who managed to open 306 parishes in Eastern Belarus.21 Therefore in 1945 there were 1,044 churches in Belarus, united in four dioceses: Minsk, Brest, Grodno and Pinsk22 (the Exarchate was not restored). After the liberation of Belarus (in 1944) the intolerant policy of the Soviet authorities towards religion largely continued. By 1952 the dioceses of Brest, Grodno and Pinsk were dissolved at the behest of the authorities,23 and Minsk diocese remained the only one in Belarus for more than three decades. During

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Khrushchev’s persecution of the Orthodox Church in 1958–64 around 500 parishes in Belarus were closed.24 Intolerance towards the Church did not end with the Khrushchev era, but it did not take the form of the severe and brutal persecution of previous years.

The development of the Belarusian Orthodox Church In 1988 the Orthodox Church in Belarus existed as a diocese of the Moscow Patriarchate – the Minsk-Belarusian diocese (Minsko-Belorusskaya eparkhiya). Since 1978, it has been headed by Metropolitan Philaret (Vakhromeyev), helped from 1980 by an assistant bishop, with the title of the Bishop of Pinsk. The number of parishes at the beginning of 1988 was 399,25 with the only functioning monastery in Zhirovichi. In the late 1980s these structural arrangements appeared obsolescent, especially in light of the growing number of parishes. Therefore in July 1989 at the request of Metropolitan Philaret, by the decision of the Holy Synod of the Russian Orthodox Church three new dioceses were established (or, as it was formulated, restored) in Belarus – those of Polotsk, Mogilev and Pinsk.26 The Synod’s decision was formally approved by the Bishops’ Council of the Russian Orthodox Church in October 1989.27 January 1989 was marked by the foundation of the Minsk Theological College, which initially offered a one-year programme with a focus on Bible history, church singing and Slavonic language. There were two Theological Colleges (male and female) in Minsk before the Communist revolution, but they were closed afterwards. In the same year the Minsk Theological Seminary was reopened in the village of Zhirovichi and acquired the status of a higher educational establishment in 1991, with a five-year programme in theology.28 Also in 1989 a convent was restored in Polotsk,29 and the premises of the convent in Grodno were returned to the Church. This visible revival of Orthodoxy was accompanied by a change in the administrative status of the Church. In October 1989, the Bishops’ Council of the Russian Orthodox Church established the Belarusian Exarchate,30 which meant granting a higher degree of autonomy to the Orthodox Church in Belarus.31 The issue of the establishment of the Exarchate was raised by Metropolitan Philaret, who explained, inter alia, the need to improve Church activity in Belarus, especially when the Church faced the need to foster the ‘spiritual revival and renovation of the Belarusian national life’.32 At the same time, the Bishops’ Council, which took place in Moscow on 30–31 January 1990, expressed hope that the substantial autonomy, granted to the Belarusian (and Ukrainian)33 churches ‘will meet the national expectations of the Orthodox faithful’.34 In addition, as the Council stated, it would allow believers ‘to build Church life independently in accordance with Churchnational traditions’.35 However, Metropolitan Philaret was adamant in claiming that the creation of the Exarchate in no way encouraged ‘national egoism’,36 thus emphasising

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the unity of the Russian Orthodox Church and underlying his discouragement of any attempt to separate the Belarusian faithful from Moscow. The creation of the Belarusian Exarchate was followed by the further establishment of new dioceses (or, more accurately, the restoration of previously existing ones). In 1990 the diocese of Brest emerged from the diocese of Pinsk and Brest, and the diocese of Gomel was created in the same year. In early 1992 two new dioceses were formed – those of Grodno-Volkovysk and NovogrudokLida. Later in the same year the Vitebsk diocese emerged from the diocese of Polotsk and the Turov diocese37 emerged from the diocese of Gomel,38 bringing the total number of dioceses to ten. This structure remained stable for more than a decade. Only at the end of 2004 was a new diocese formed from several districts of the Mogilev diocese (Bobruisk-Osipovichi diocese).39 Since then no structural changes have taken place; therefore eleven dioceses form the established administrative structure of the Belarusian Exarchate. However, information emerged in January 2012 that the creation of new dioceses is possible, in light of the request of the Archbishop of Vitebsk to establish a new diocese from five districts within the Diocese of Vitebsk.40 The Exarchate also bears another name – the Belarusian Orthodox Church – which has been used more often in Belarusian discourse. The Church is governed by the Holy Synod, which is composed of the ruling bishops of all dioceses in Belarus. The most important decisions of the Belarusian Synod (such as the election of new hierarchs or the establishment of new seminaries or dioceses) should be approved by the Holy Synod of the Russian Orthodox Church, of which Metropolitan Philaret is a permanent member. Almost all other issues are within the sole competence of the Belarusian Synod and can be resolved in Minsk, without obtaining formal approval in Moscow. The ecclesiastical ties between Moscow and Minsk are very strong and friendly, thanks to the unity in faith and tradition, the intensive mutual cooperation and the low level of nationalistic feelings in Belarus.

Church–state relations in independent Belarus Belarus has never experienced very strong independence movements, such as those in, for example, the Baltic States. Its route to state sovereignty was modest, non-violent and largely depended on developments in the USSR. On 27 July 1990 the Belarusian Parliament (Supreme Soviet) adopted the Declaration of State Sovereignty of the Byelorussian Soviet Socialist Republic, though it had no legal force. Only on 25 August 1991, after the unsuccessful coup d’état in Moscow, was this Declaration given the status of a constitutional law, and the economic and political independence of Belarus was proclaimed. On 8 December 1991 Belarus, Russia and Ukraine signed the Belovezhskoye agreement, which formally dissolved the USSR and formed the Commonwealth of Independent States.41 Turkey, Sweden and Mongolia were the first countries which recognised the independence of Belarus (on 16, 19

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and 20 December respectively). By the end of December 1991 independence was recognised by fifty-four states.42 The Belarusian Orthodox Church has never adopted an official stance on the issue of state independence. The Church viewed independence positively as indicated in the Christmas pastoral letter of Metropolitan Philaret of 7 January 1992. The following wording from the epistle is noteworthy: The independent Republic of Belarus has been revived! Its national symbols are restored, its spiritual values and cultural achievements are seen. It means that people did not lose their faith in God and their love for their Motherland. At the same time, we cannot remain unconcerned by the great social and moral shocks which have affected our society.43 However, a few months later, in his Easter pastoral letter of 26 April 1992, Metropolitan Philaret did not make any direct mention of independence. He just underlined that ‘In the past year the state system has collapsed, which was founded on ideas, denying the existence of God’. These ideas, Philaret emphasised, deprived people of the true meaning of life.44 Speaking about the new period which Belarus was entering, Philaret called it ‘difficult’, but, at the same time, ‘salvatory’.45 Indeed, the collapse of the communist system and state independence had laid the foundation for further positive developments in church–state relations in Belarus. The country passed very important milestones in the transformation of its religious legislation and in its relations with the Orthodox Church. In December 1992, the Belarusian Parliament (Supreme Soviet of the 12th convocation) adopted the first democratic law in the area of religion, ‘On the Freedom of Religions and Religious Organisations’. This law established a principle of equality of religions and denominations, specifying in Article 6 that ‘All religions and denominations are equal before law. No denomination is given advantages or restrictions, compared with others.’ Article 3 proclaimed that ‘according to the right of the freedom of conscience every citizen personally determines his attitude towards religion; he can individually or with others belong to any religion or not; and express and spread conviction’.46 The new Constitution of Belarus, adopted in March 1994, repeated the main principles of the law of 1992, stating that all religions have equal status before the law. In November 1996 the Constitution was drastically altered in a referendum, with substantially increased power for the President. The Supreme Soviet was abolished, with the establishment of the bicameral Parliament: the National Assembly, consisting of the House of Representatives (lower chamber), and the Council of the Republic (upper chamber). In this new version of the constitution, changes were introduced into the main regulatory principle, concerning relations with religious organisations. Article 16 specified that ‘Relations between the State and religious organisations shall be regulated by law with regard to their influence on the formation of spiritual, cultural and state traditions of the Belarusian people.’47 This

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provision in general undermined the idea of the strict separation of church and the state (heavily endorsed by the communist regime), and it recognised implicitly that churches could be meaningful and influential in the public domain. A new law on religion (the Law on the Freedom of Conscience and Religious Organisations) was introduced in 2002, almost six years after the amended Constitution came into force. In June 2002, the House of Representatives adopted the draft proposal, which became law after being approved in October 2002 by the Council of the Republic and signed by the President. According to Igor Kotliarov and Leonid Zemliakov, this law ‘came as a result of numerous discussions, compromises in the Belarusian Parliament, among the branches of power and among confessions’.48 Although it was not perceived positively by all religious groups, the most influential denominations and religions (Orthodox, Catholic, Lutheran, Jewish and Muslim) supported the adoption of the new law.49 In principle, it repeated some provisions of the 1992 law (proclaiming the freedom of conscience and religions and the equality of different religions before the law), but also contained important innovations, developing the context of Article 16 of the constitution. Indeed, the law recognises the ‘determining role of the Orthodox Church in the historical formation and development of spiritual, cultural and state traditions of the Belarusian people’. Furthermore, it points to the ‘spiritual, cultural and historical role of the Catholic Church on the territory of Belarus’ and the ‘inseparability of the history of the people of Belarus from the Evangelical Lutheran Church, Judaism and Islam’.50 The law on religion established a three-tiered structure of religious organisations: religious communities, religious associations and republican religious associations. Religious communities are the basic units. For official registration they must comprise at least twenty people over the age of eighteen who live in the neighbouring areas. Religious associations, according to the law, are composed of ten communities and at least one of them should have been active in the country for a minimum of twenty years. Only religious associations enjoy the right to create monasteries, religious brotherhoods and sisterhoods, spiritual missions and theological educational establishments (with the exception of Sunday schools, which can be created by religious communities). Religious issues in Belarus are regulated by the Office of the Plenipotentiary Representative for Religious and Nationality Affairs (Apparat upolnomochennogo po delam religiy i natsionalnostei). The Office (which is a governmental body) appeared in 2006, after the abolition of the Committee on Religious and National Affairs of the Council of Ministers. The current head of office, Leonid Guliako, regards himself as an Orthodox Christian, although he also mentioned in an interview that he is not a particularly religious individual.51 The new law, which highlighted the important role of the Orthodox Church, paved the way for the signing of a special agreement between the Church and state in June 2003, less than a year after the law had come into force. In this agreement, the state recognised the Orthodox Church as ‘one of the most

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important social institutions’ in the country and provided guarantees for the ‘freedom of [its] internal organisation’. The Church emphasised that ‘cooperation with the state helps to strengthen the spiritual and social activity of the Church and to improve the opportunities for the common opposition to the pseudo-religious structures, which create danger for the individual and society’.52 The agreement gives priority to cooperation between church and state in the spheres of education, culture, charitable work, family and family values, morality, etc. As stated by Stanislav Buko, then Chairman of the Committee on Religious and National Affairs, ‘the signing of the Agreement with the Orthodox Church is a recognition of its merits and its role in the cultural and spiritual tradition of the Belarusian people’.53 Metropolitan Philaret, for his part, emphasised that ‘the Church lives with its life and does not intend to acquire state features or functions, as we are sometimes accused of … The Agreement between the Belarusian Orthodox Church and the state … defines the main principles of our bilateral relations and the mutual perception of each other.’54 It is worth noting that this general agreement of the church and state allowed the Orthodox Church to sign a substantial number of more specific agreements with various governmental agencies and institutions.55 The substantial number of participating ministries is explained mainly by pragmatic reasons. Governmental agencies and ministries heavily control various aspects of everyday life and close cooperation is necessary in order to reach even the basic objectives of any religious organisation, regarding, for example growing Church involvement in societal activities.

The practical aspects of church–state cooperation The practicalities of cooperation between the Orthodox Church and governmental institutions vary in their scope and intensity. For example, cooperation with the Ministry of Information has provided a number of opportunities for interaction between the Church and the mass media (many of which are dependent on this ministry). The Ministry of Culture has cooperated with the Church in the area of caring for objects of cultural and religious heritage. Cooperation with the Ministry of Labour and Social Protection has been necessary, inter alia, to guarantee the access of priests to geriatric homes, in order to help the elderly people accommodated there. The Ministry of Defence has allowed priests to be present in military units, although not on a full-time basis. In fact, the institution of Army chaplains has never developed in Belarus; therefore those priests who conduct their pastoral duties in the Army do so on a voluntary basis. The same refers to pastoral work with prisoners. The most productive cooperation has developed with the Ministry of Education. In fact, this ministry was the first governmental institution to sign, as early as June 1996, the Agreement on Cooperation with the Orthodox Church.56 The first Programme of Cooperation, established in 2004, was

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completed in 2010. Both sides praised its outcomes, especially the organisation (as was stated by Sergei Maskevich, Minister of Education) of ‘many events on the moral and patriotic upbringing of the youth, on the familiarising of young people with the historical role of Orthodoxy in the formation of culture and statehood of the Belarusian people’.57 The second programme was signed on 8 April 2011, covering the period from 2011 to 2014.58 In addition, the Church has benefited from a certain degree of financial support from the state. This support has been selective and mainly provided to theological educational establishments and well-known monasteries. It can hardly be labelled as substantial,59 but it is still helpful for the Church, which lost most of its property and resources during the communist era. Overall, one needs to note not only the adequate level of interaction of clergy with governmental institutions, but also the existence in Belarus of an established pattern of cooperation between the top state officials and the Church. As confirmation of his positive attitudes towards the Orthodox Church, President Alexander Lukashenko has underlined repeatedly that he relied on Christian values as a foundation of Belarusian state ideology.60 He normally meets the Patriarch of Moscow when he pays his visits to the Belarusian Church (nine times since 1991; eight of these visits have taken place during Lukashenko’s presidency (1994–). The last visit of the Patriarch of Moscow was in October 2012. The President also attends (at least once a year) sessions of the Synod of the Belarusian Church, where he usually praises the activity of the Church and underlines the importance of its cooperation with the state. These are not just ceremonial meetings; discussions on practical issues also take place. In his speech at the Belarusian Synod’s session in April 2011, Lukashenko mentioned specifically that the Church ‘should live by the interests of the country’, and in order to defend these interests, the Church needs to use, if necessary, all its contacts and its international reputation.61 Most likely, the call to the Orthodox Church to defend by virtually any means the interests of Belarus reflected the President’s concern with the growing international isolation of the country, especially following the December 2010 presidential elections.62 In fact, a similar request was addressed to the Roman Catholic Church. As President Lukashenko stated at the meeting in Minsk on 14 November 2011 with the President of the Pontifical Council for Promoting Christian Unity, Cardinal Kurt Koch, ‘We expect more from the Catholic Church and personally Pope Benedict XVI regarding the defence of our interests, especially in the West.’63 The positive rhetoric of top officials, however, is not always turned into adequate action. For example, in 2006 the President did not support Philaret’s proposal to tighten abortion law in Belarus, in order to prevent ‘unjustified and massive use of abortion’.64 Also, in spite of substantial efforts, the Church did not succeed in introducing lessons with a religious content (such as the ‘Basis of Orthodox culture’ or on the ‘Spiritual and moral upbringing of the Orthodox traditions of the Belarusian people’) at schools as part of the curriculum (they can only be taught as optional subjects, at the request of parents).

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Textbooks for these courses come both from Belarus and Russia. According to Archpriest Alexander Shimbaliov, Head of the Department of Education and Catechism of Minsk Diocese, it is unrealistic to expect the introduction of these lessons in the near future. Although a number of proposals were made and syllabuses for these subjects were prepared, they were rejected by the Ministry of Education. According to Fr Alexander Shimbaliov, the arguments of the ministry were purely bureaucratic and hardly convincing.65 More significantly, it is likely that a recent governmental act undermined the prospects of further substantive cooperation between the Church and Ministry of Education. This refers to the decree on the interaction of educational establishments with religious organisations (adopted by the Council of Ministers on 24 June 2011), which, as Natalia Vasilevich claimed, in general degraded the framework of Church cooperation with educational establishments.66 Indeed, it prohibited the display of religious symbols, conducting religious ceremonies and services and missionary work in these establishments. The decree effectively limited the sphere of activities of religious organisations (including the Belarusian Orthodox Church) to the issues of history, culture and morality. Furthermore, it seems to be used selectively and not in favour of the Church. Yulia Chirva, commenting on this decree, emphatically pointed out that the authorities, after they prohibited icons and prayers in schools, continue to allow ‘demons and witches’ in the form of Halloween celebrations.67 Alexander Shimbaliov is convinced that the above-mentioned decree is in fact not as threatening as it could be. He emphasised that: This decree does not impose anything on us, since we continue our work within the framework of the Agreement on Cooperation with the Ministry of Education. Of course, some heads of schools may use this decree as a template to downgrade the level of cooperation with the Belarusian Orthodox Church. However, the guidance published on the website of the Ministry of Education (on the implementation of the decree) seems to be convincing enough to counterbalance possible negative consequences of this governmental act. In fact, many things, as previously, depend on the will of the head of educational establishments.68 One more issue of concern is related to restrictions reportedly imposed on pastoral visits to political prisoners.69 At least, this issue was on the agenda in 2011, when attempts to get access to some of these people failed70 (in spite of the agreement between the Church and the appropriate governmental institutions, and in the light of the repeated requests from priests and even the assistant bishop of the Minsk diocese, Veniamin (Tupeko)).71 One of the political prisoners, who was denied seeing a priest during his preliminary investigation, was Pavel Severinets, a leader of the unregistered political party, the Belarusian Christian Democracy. The authorities argued that the jail in which Severinets was held for his preliminary investigation had no premises suitable for a visit from a priest. According to Archpriest Vasiliy Litvinko, who is responsible for

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work with prisoners in the Minsk diocese, it was an exceptional case, caused by political circumstances. Fr Vasiliy claims that ‘there are no problems now’, and priests are able to visit prisoners,72 including Severinets, who was sentenced to three years of custodial restraint. It is worth noting that the above-mentioned Belarusian Christian Democracy is an emerging Christian party in the country. It was founded in February 2009, but the Belarusian Ministry of Justice has repeatedly rejected the party’s applications for official registration. It includes representatives of Orthodox, Catholic and Protestant communities and bases its programme on conservative Christian values. Its popularity has been diminished by the nationalistic and anti-Russian sentiments expressed by its leaders, including Vitaliy Rimashevskiy, who was the party’s candidate for the presidential office in December 2010 elections. The Belarusian Christian Democracy has no connection with Orthodox hierarchs, since the participation of the Orthodox Church in politics remains limited. In fact, no political group enjoys any sort of endorsement by the Church. This reflects not only the harsh political conditions in Belarus,73 but also provisions of the Social Doctrine of the Moscow Patriarchate, which requires clergy to refrain from participation in political campaigns and from standing in elections at all levels (apart from in very specific and rare circumstances). In 1990, before the Moscow Patriarchate adopted its official prohibition on participation in elections, Belarusian clergy took part in electoral campaigns. The 1990 elections were the first democratic elections in the then Byelorussian Soviet Socialist Republic, with real rivalry in constituencies (overall, there were five candidates for each parliamentary seat). However, fifty seats in the Parliament (out of 360) were reserved for the representatives of various NGOs, which made the composition of the Supreme Soviet slightly unequal. These elections attracted a high degree of interest and involvement of the electorate, with a turnout of 87 per cent in the first round, which took place on 4 March 1990. In the 1990 elections four of the clergy became members of parliament: Metropolitan Philaret and three priests, namely Evgeniy Parfeniyuk from Brest, Alexander Dzichkovskiy from Baranovichi (Brest region) and Victor Radomislskiy from Orsha district (Vitebsk region). According to Archpriest Alexander Dzichkovskiy, participation in those elections was necessary, first of all, to confirm the existence of the Orthodox Church in a state which had conducted an anti-religious policy in the previous decades. Besides, it was necessary to solve the vital problems emerging with the revival of church life in Belarus. During their work in the Supreme Soviet, members of the clergy managed to achieve positive decisions on a number of important issues. These included the adoption of a democratic law ‘On the freedom of religions’, as well as declaring some Christian feasts as public holidays (Christmas in both Julian and Gregorian calendars, 7 January and 25 December; Radunitsa, the day of commemoration of the departed; and the Monday after Easter).74 According to Fr Alexander Shimbaliov, the presence of Metropolitan

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Philaret, as a respected hierarch, had a positive impact on the situation and moral climate in Parliament. Overall, the attitudes of other MPs and the general public towards the presence of Orthodox clergy in Parliament were positive, although the negative opinions of some Catholic MPs, especially those from the nationalistic faction of the Belarusian Popular Front, could not be ignored.75 However, this was an exceptional case of the presence of clergy in the Belarusian legislative institution. All clergy resigned from their parliamentary offices in 1995, at the end of the term of the Supreme Soviet of the 12th convocation. Metropolitan Philaret, in his November 1995 interview, emphasised that his mission as an MP ‘is not compatible with the service in the Church’, since it is impossible to dedicate sufficient time to his parliamentary work. He suggested that, ‘The Holy Synod and the leadership of the Belarusian Orthodox Church came to the correct decision on the incompatibility of the service in the Church and the work in state and political institutions.’76 Indeed, in March 1995 the Synod of the Belarusian Church, characterising the parliamentary work of Metropolitan Philaret as ‘constructive’, asked the Belarusian clergy to refrain from standing in elections.77 Consequently, no priest or hierarch stood as a candidate in the 1995 or subsequent elections. In September 2008 Archpriest Feodor Povniy from Minsk attempted to stand as a candidate for the Council of the Republic. Fr Povniy is a wellknown clergyman, who used to be in charge of the Department of External Relations78 of the Belarusian Church and is also known as the head of a huge charitable complex, ‘Dom miloserdiya’ [House of Mercy], constructed in Minsk with the support of the Patriarch of Moscow Aleksii and President Lukashenko. However, his initiative was perceived in Moscow with a degree of scepticism (although it is not clear how it was perceived by Metropolitan Philaret in Minsk). Patriarch Aleksii in a private conversation with a would-be candidate stated the importance of unity in the Church and the need to avoid schisms, pointing out that schisms can emerge if some priests take a too active part in politics.79 After this conversation, Fr Povniy refrained from standing for election to the upper chamber of the Belarusian Parliament. There is no confirmed information of any Orthodox priest in Belarus being at present a member of a local council. Overall, the Orthodox Church takes a very cautious perspective on both parliamentary and presidential elections in Belarus. It has never expressed its official support for any candidate who has run for presidential office. Although Metropolitan Philaret took part in and gave speeches at the ‘AllBelarusian People’s Assemblies’ [Vsebelorusskoye narodnoye sobraniye] (a gathering of representatives of different layers of society, which normally takes place every five years and approves Lukashenko’s programme), his participation in these events cannot be treated as the official Church’s support of President Lukashenko. It is more a reflection of those good ties which were established between the high authorities and Orthodox hierarchs, as well as the recognition of the role the Church has acquired in society. In fact, the

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speeches of Philaret at these assemblies have never been politicised, since he has tried to concentrate more on spiritual values and Gospel principles,80 thus clearly speaking in his capacity of a religious leader of the most numerous and influential confession in Belarus.

Theological education The development of a theological education in the Belarusian Orthodox Church has embraced both the enlargement and the deepening of its educational system. As mentioned earlier, the Minsk Theological Seminary was reopened in Zhirovichi in 1989.81 It is regarded as a higher educational establishment with its graduates awarded a Bachelor of Theology degree after five years of fulltime study.82 With the purpose of further developing theological research and education, the Synod of the Belarusian Orthodox Church (with the approval in February 1996 of the Synod of the Russian Orthodox Church) established the Theological Academy also in Zhirovichi, although it is envisaged that it will be relocated to Minsk in the next few years.83 The Academy now awards Doctor of Theology degrees to those of its graduates who are successful in the defence of their doctoral thesis.84 However, the problem of recognition of these degrees in Belarus has existed from the very beginning, without a clear solution foreseen. In Belarus, doctoral degrees awarded by educational establishments need to be validated by the Higher Attestation Commission [Vysshaya Attestatsionnaya Komissiya – VAK] (a Minsk-based governmental body).85 Without this validation, the award of such a degree by any institution is regarded as void. VAK has refused to recognise doctoral degrees awarded by the Theological Academy. Therefore the Academy’s graduates can hardly hope to enjoy the same status as the holders of doctoral degrees from other educational establishments. Interestingly, Lukashenko spoke in favour of recognition of the theology doctorates in a March 2009 meeting with members of the Synod,86 but the President’s favourable attitude (at least in words) towards the solution of this problem did not bring much change. This is surprising in a country where the President enjoys enormous influence and power. According to Archpriest Alexander Shimbaliov, the refusal of the VAK to recognise doctoral degrees in theology is explained by the old Soviet convictions of the VAK’s functionaries and even by their unwillingness to deal with the issue properly and in detail. As Fr Alexander stressed, no expert group was formed by the VAK in order to identify if the quality of the theses defended in the Theological Academy was sufficient to confirm that the doctoral degrees awarded by the Academy met the VAK’s standards.87 In a letter signed by the Chairman of the VAK and Minister of Education in April 2009, it was stated that recognition of these degrees ‘may lead to protests from the research community’ and such recognition ‘appears unrealistic’ because of ‘the incompatibility of the scientific and religious world-views’.88

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In its further development of the educational sector and in order to meet the additional needs of different dioceses, the Church also established three theological colleges. Since 1998 the Minsk Theological College (opened in Minsk in January 1989) has offered a three-year programme in theology and church music. The Slonim College (Grodno region) admits female students only. It was established in 1999 with the purpose of training psalm readers, teachers of Orthodox catechism and icon painters and also offers a three-year programme in these subjects.89 The most important in this list is probably the Vitebsk Theological College, established in 1998 in Vitebsk (Eastern Belarus). Indeed, since 2007 it has offered a four-year programme in theology and in 2011 was transformed into the second Orthodox Seminary in Belarus.90 A number of Belarusian students are still attracted by seminaries or academies outside their own country, with the Orthodox educational establishments in Moscow, St Petersburg and Kyiv occupying the first places in popularity. A further important aspect in the development of theological education in Belarus was the establishment of the Faculty of Theology at the European Humanities University [Evropeiskiy Gumanitarniy Universitet], Minsk, in 1993. However, this university did not survive for long: it was closed by the authorities in 2004 and, because of its inability to function in Belarus, moved to Vilnius, where it continued its life as a university in exile (some of its lecturers also moved there). The Faculty of Theology did not follow the European Humanities University’s route to Lithuania; instead it was transformed into the Theological Institute, attached to the Belarusian State University. It now offers bachelors’ and masters’ degrees in theology, with the majority of its students coming from an Orthodox background, but some representing Catholic and Protestant confessions. This institute is closely associated with the Belarusian Orthodox Church, since both rector and first deputy rector are the Exarchate’s hierarchs (Metropolitan Philaret and Bishop Seraphim (Belonozhko) respectively).91 Apart from this institute, a non-denominational theological education can be obtained at the Vitebsk State University, while important work in the area of education, as well as inter-confessional and inter-religious dialogue (mainly with Catholics, Lutherans, Muslims and Jews), is conducted by the Christian Educational Centre.92 It has existed since 1996 as an international NGO, with Metropolitan Philaret occupying the post of president.

The Church’s information policy The development of the Church’s information policy has been twofold: the establishment of its own mass media and cooperation with the secular mass media (both state and private). One needs to note that the Belarusian Orthodox Church has never seriously attempted to found an influential daily newspaper which could cover important economic and political themes. In most cases, the newspapers and magazines which are published by the Church reflect various aspects of church life, theology and Orthodox feasts, the

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lives of saints and the stories of pilgrimages. The largest church newspaper is Tsarkounaye Slova [Church Word], published each week in Minsk with a circulation of 5,100 copies. At least some part of the material in many church periodicals is reprinted from other sources, sometimes from popular Orthodox websites (both Belarusian and foreign, normally Russian). There are more than forty Orthodox websites in Belarus, both of a general character and more specific ones (i.e. the websites of various organisations, such as the Minsk Theological Seminary and the Christian Educational Centre).93 Eight out of eleven dioceses have their own websites, although the main information about dioceses is published on the official website of the Belarusian Orthodox Church. Only fifty parishes have their own websites.94 The Belarusian Orthodox Church broadcasts nationwide television and radio programmes, which appear on a regular basis (three television programmes and two radio programmes). Many programmes broadcast locally. In addition, the programme of cooperation with the Ministry of Information allows publication in the secular media of some church-related themes. Overall, it appears that the attitudes of most of the mass media towards the Orthodox Church are either neutral or positive, although there are, of course, exceptions. Indeed, articles which groundlessly attempt to humiliate the Church, its hierarchs and faithful appear from time to time.95 However, journalists’ level of competence in dealing with religious topics has definitely increased in the last twenty years, not least as a result of the Church’s cooperation with the Information Ministry. Nevertheless, even those publications which claim to be neutral sometimes use language which may be regarded as derogatory or include statements which are, at best, subjective and biased, with traces of the Soviet perception of Orthodoxy. Moreover, according to Fr Evgeniy Sviderskiy, who is responsible for the Exarchate’s contact with the mass media, in some publications, especially regarding Christian feasts, no clear distinction is made between Christianity and paganism. Archpriest Sergiy Lepin, press secretary of the Minsk diocese, has pointed out that at times journalists write too much about rituals, at the expense of church teaching and moral doctrines. Therefore the image of Orthodoxy becomes deformed and is not perceived correctly by readers.96 A rather harsh assessment of the Belarusian mass media was articulated by Valentina Teplova in 2009 in an article in which she stated that no newspaper (apart from church periodicals) ‘has a section which writes without bias about church life’. She claimed that most newspapers either ignore material about the Church, or publish articles of a scandalous character. Overall, according to Teplova, ‘severe dilettantism’ is the main feature of these publications when they deal with church issues.97 According to Archpriest Sergiy Lepin, who was asked to comment on this, ‘church life (if we speak about news) is indeed not covered by anyone, apart from the church mass media. Dilettantism is also present in publications, although many journalists now submit their publications to the clergy for approval.’ At the same time, as

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Fr Sergiy pointed out, ‘Lecturers from the Minsk Theological Academy are invited to give lectures in extension courses for journalists, and in some print media a special section “questions to the priest” was introduced.’98 This appears as a sign of a more positive assessment, articulated by the press secretary of the Minsk diocese.

Conclusion At present the Belarusian Orthodox Church enjoys the status of the largest, most influential and highly respected confession in the country. As of July 2010, 82.5 per cent of believers in Belarus belonged to the Orthodox Church.99 As of the beginning of 2011, the Church had 1,555 parishes and the Exarchate was divided into eleven dioceses.100 This division is uneven and the size of dioceses as well as their development differs to a substantial degree. For example, there are 392 parishes in the Minsk diocese (the largest diocese) and 45 parishes in the Bobruisk diocese (the smallest diocese). In two dioceses (Pinsk and Novogrudok) the number of burial services exceeds the number of baptisms. However, the fact that in most dioceses baptisms outnumber burial services suggests good prospects for the further growth of the Orthodox Church. Of course, one needs to take into account that not all of those who are baptised become active church members, and not all buried in accordance with church rites were frequent churchgoers or devout Christians. One also needs to note that the Church has adequately developed the area of theological education, with the establishment of two theological colleges, two seminaries, the Theological Academy and the Institute of Theology. However, the problem of recognition of doctoral degrees awarded by the Academy is still on the agenda. Also, the Belarusian Orthodox Church has not been successful in the introduction of lessons with religious content as part of the curriculum at state schools. However, these lessons can be chosen as optional subjects, at the request of parents. This has already happened in eighteen schools in the city of Minsk and forty schools of the Minsk region. Church–state relations in the last twenty years have largely been friendly and constructive, especially after the Agreement on Cooperation was signed between the Church and the government in June 2003. Apart from the programmes of cooperation with governmental institutions (which are useful and important to both sides), the Church has also benefited from a certain amount of financial support from the state, which has mainly been provided to establishments for theological educational establishments and the bestknown monasteries. However, the total help from the state can hardly be regarded as substantial, especially if one notes that many buildings confiscated (and used) by the communist authorities were returned to the Church in very poor condition. As Archpriest Alexander Shimbaliov emphasised, ‘we needed to renovate everything or build anew. The State helps only partially.’101 Moreover, President Lukashenko pointed out in April 2011, when

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meeting the members of the Synod, that the Church should look for alternative sources of funding.102 In line with its social doctrine, the Church has endeavoured to promote its values and ideas in the areas of morality, education and the state’s information policy. This refers not only to the patterns of cooperation with governmental institutions, but also to its work within non-governmental structures. In the scope of this work, the Council on Moral Issues was established in 2009, on the initiative of the Belarusian Orthodox Church and the Union of Writers of Belarus. It now includes representatives of the Orthodox and Catholic churches, writers, representatives of the educational establishments and top officials. Its main objective is to identify whether publications, films, various events (concerts and so on) meet the standards of morality.103 Although the decisions of the Council are not mandatory, they are normally respected and can be used by official institutions as a reason for certain actions, protecting public morality in Belarus. Overall, developments in the Belarusian Orthodox Church have confirmed that religious revivals are not the remnants of the past. With a growing number of young and middle-aged parishioners, with an increasing educational level of the clergy, one can arguably claim that the Church’s prospects are more than optimistic.104

Appendix 1

Religious leaders

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Metropolitan Philaret (Kirill Vakhromeyev), in office 1978–

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Biography105

Title: Metropolitan of Minsk and Slutsk, Patriarchal Exarch of All Belarus. Metropolitan Philaret (Kirill Vakhromeyev) was born in Moscow in 1935. He graduated from the Moscow Theological Academy in 1961, receiving a Doctor of Theology degree. He was ordained hierodeacon in 1959 and hieromonk in 1961. The bishop’s tonsuring took place in 1965, and in 1966 Bishop Philaret was appointed rector of the Moscow Theological Academy. Philaret was given the rank of archbishop in 1971, and in 1975 he became metropolitan. From 1973 to 1978 he served in Berlin, as a Patriarchal Exarch for Central Europe. In October 1978 Philaret was appointed Metropolitan of Minsk and Belarus (Byelorussia), receiving also the title of the Patriarchal Exarch for Western Europe. From 1981 to 1988 Philaret chaired the Department of the External Church Relations of the Moscow Patriarchate, retaining at the same time his office in Minsk. He resigned from this department after being appointed, in October 1989, Patriarchal Exarch of All Belarus. From December 1993 until October 2011 Metropolitan Philaret was in charge of the Synodal Theological Commission of the Russian Orthodox Church.

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Theological publications

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Minskiye Eparkhialniye Vedomosti [Minsk Diocese Bulletin] Zhurnal ‘Pravaslav’e’ [journal ‘Orthodoxy’] Zhurnal ‘Stupeni’ [journal ‘Steps’] Zhurnal ‘Vrata nebesniye’ [journal ‘The Gates of Heaven’] Gazeta ‘Tsarkounaye slova’ [newspaper ‘The Church Word’] Gazeta ‘Voskreseniye’ [newspaper ‘Resurrection’] Gazeta ‘Preobrazheniye’ [newspaper ‘Transfiguration’].

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Structure of the Church: 11 dioceses, 1,555 parishes, 34 monasteries.106 Number of clergy and church buildings: 1,485 priests, 166 deacons, 1,348 churches.107 5

Population108

The Republic of Belarus is an East European state with a population of 9,503,807. The main ethnic group is Belarusians, 83.7 per cent of the total population, followed by Russians (8.3 per cent), Poles (3.1 per cent) and Ukrainians (1.7 per cent). In 2010, around 58.9 per cent of the population regarded themselves as believers, of whom 82.5 per cent belong to the Orthodox Church, 12 per cent to the Roman Catholic Church and 2 per cent to Protestant churches.109

Notes 1 The name Belarus (Republic of Belarus) is used throughout this text. However, one needs to note that the name Republic of Belarus appeared only in September 1991. As part of the USSR, the country was called the Byelorussian Soviet Socialist Republic (Byelorussia). In Imperial Russia, the territory of what is now Belarus was located in the ‘Northwestern Region’ and the ‘Byelorussian General Governorship’. Before it was incorporated into the Russian Empire, Belarus used to be part of the Rzech Pospolita and the Great Duchy of Lithuania. 2 See ‘Rol gosudarstva v dostizheniyi obschestvennogo soglasiya’ [The role of the state in achieving societal agreement], p.8, http://un.by/pdf/nhdr/1997_ru_chapter_5.pdf (accessed 8 November 2012). 3 Fr Evgeniy Sviderskiy, ‘Pravoslavnaya Tserkov v Belorussiyi s 1978 po 2006. Diplomnaya rabota po istoriyi Russkoi Pravoslavnoi Tserkvi’ [The Orthodox Church in Belarus from 1978 to 2006. Unpublished diploma thesis on the history of the Russian Orthodox Church], Zhirovichi, 2008. 4 Chernobyl nuclear power station (located in Ukraine) exploded on 26 April 1986. Around 60 per cent of the radioactive fallout landed in Belarus. Twenty-five per cent of Belarusian territory was contaminated with radioactive materials. 5 Archbishop Afanasiy Martos, Belarus v istoricheskoi, gosudarstvennoi i tserkovnoi zhizni [Belarus in Historical, State and Church Life], Minsk: Izdatelstvo Belorusskogo Ekzarkhata, 2000.

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6 Valentina Teplova, ‘Pravoslavnaya Tserkov Belarusi na rubezhe tisechialetiy: istoria i sovremennost’ [The Orthodox Church of Belarus on the borders of millennia: history and the contemporary situation], 2009, http://www.church.by/resource/ Dir0176/Dir0200/Page0477.html (accessed 8 November 2012). 7 Ibid. 8 Ibid. 9 Martos, Belarus, p. 262. 10 Ibid., p. 264. 11 See: http://www.belarus21.by/ru/main_menu/religion/relig_org/new_url_ 1949557390 (accessed 8 November 2012). 12 Fr Feodor Krivonos, Belorusskaya Pravoslavnaya Tserkov v XX stoletiyi [The Belarusian Orthodox Church in the Twentieth Century], Minsk: Vrata, 2008, p. 54. 13 Ibid., p. 64. 14 The Renovationism Schism lasted from 1922 to 1946. Initially it was strongly supported by the Bolshevik authorities, with the idea of destroying the canonical Orthodox Church in the USSR. 15 Krivonos, Belorusskaya, p. 66. 16 Ibid., p. 70. 17 Ibid., p. 71. 18 See: http://2000.net.ua/2000/aspekty/28991 (accessed 8 November 2012). 19 Pavel Bubnov, Religioznaya politika sovetskogo pravitelstva v 1943–1948 gg. kak istoricheskiy kontekst pervogo vozrozhdeniya Minskoi Dukhovnoi Seminariyi [The religious policy of the Soviet Government, 1943–1948, as a historical context of the revival of the Minsk Theological Seminary], http://minds.by/article/131.html (accessed 8 November 2012). 20 Krivonos, Belorusskaya, pp. 97–8. 21 Ibid., p. 121. 22 Ibid., p. 122. 23 Ibid., p. 127. 24 Ibid., p. 162. 25 See: http://www.belarus21.by/ru/main_menu/religion/relig_org/relig_obsch (accessed 8 November 2012). 26 ‘Khronologiya sobitiy, svizannikh s obrazovaniyem Belorusskoi Pravoslavnoi Tserkvi’ [The chronology of events, connected with the establishment of the Belarusian Orthodox Church], http://www.church.by/resource/Dir0176/Dir0194/ Page0199.html (accessed 8 November 2012). 27 Ibid. 28 Minskaya Dukhovnaya Seminariya [Minsk Theological Seminary], http://minds. by/seminary/seminary.html (accessed 8 November 2012). 29 Initially founded in the twelfthth century, this convent was closed by the communist authorities in 1925. It was restored during the German occupation, but closed again in 1960. See http://spas-monastery.by/history/articles/saviour_1910_2010. php (accessed 8 November 2012). 30 The Belarusian Exarchate is now the only Exarchate in the Russian Orthodox Church. According to the Statute of the Russian Orthodox Church, exarchates are established on the basis of national-regional principles. See http://www.mospat.ru/ ru/documents/ustav/ix/ (accessed 8 November 2012). 31 ‘Khronologiya sobitiy’. 32 Rech Mitropolita Minskogo i Grodnenskogo Philareta, Patriarshego Exarkha vseya Belorusiyi 21 fevralia 1990 goda [Speech of metropolitan of Minsk and Grodno Philaret, Patriarchal Exarch of all Belarus, on 21 February 1990], Vestnik Belorusskogo Exarkhata, 1990, no. 2, p. 17.

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33 The Ukrainian Exarchate was established in October 1989. However, it was abolished one year later, since the Ukrainian Orthodox Church was granted a higher degree of autonomy. 34 Opredeleniya Arkhiereiskogo Sobora Russkoi Pravoslavnoy Tserkvi 30–31 yanvaria 1990 goda, Moskva [Declarations of the Bishops’ Council of the Russian Orthodox Church, 30–31 January 1990, Moscow], Vestnik Belorusskogo Exarkhata, 1990, no. 1, p. 6. 35 Ibid., p. 7. 36 Rech Mitropolita Minskogo i Grodnenskogo Philareta, p. 17. 37 The Turov diocese is the second oldest diocese in Belarus, initially established in 1005. 38 All these dioceses previously existed in Belarus. 39 Bobruiskaya eprkhiya. Obschaya informatsiya [Bobruisk diocese. General information], http://bobruisk.hram.by/eparchy/eparchy.html (accessed 8 November 2012). 40 See: http://www.pravmir.ru/v-belorussii-mogut-poyavitsya-novye-eparxii/ (accessed 8 November 2012). 41 See: http://countrystudies.us/belarus/39.htm (accessed 8 November 2012). 42 See: http://evolutio.info/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=737&It emid=113 (accessed 8 November 2012). 43 ‘Rozhdestvenskoye poslaniye mitropolita Philareta’ [Christmas Pastoral Letter of Metropolitan Philaret], Minskiye Eparkhialniye Vedomosti [Minsk Diocese Bulletin], 1991, no. 6, p. 6. 44 ‘Paskhalnoye poslaniye mitropolita Philareta’ [Easter Pastoral Letter of Metropolitan Philaret], Minskiye Eparkhialniye Vedomosti [Minsk Diocese Bulletin], 1992, nos. 1–4, p. 5. 45 Ibid. 46 Verkhovni Sovet Respubliki Belarus. Zakon Respubliki Belarus o svobode veroispovedaniy i religioznikh organizatsiyakh [Supreme Soviet of the Republic of Belarus. The Law of the Republic of Belarus on the Freedom of Religions and Religious Organisations], 1992. 47 Constitution of the Republic of Belarus (see http://president.gov.by/en/press19329. html#doc) (accessed 8 November 2012). 48 Igor Kotliarov and Leonid Zemliakov. Respublika Belarus v konfessionalnom izmereniyi [The Republic of Belarus from a Confessional Dimension], Minsk: Izdatelstvo MIU, 2004, p. 165. 49 Belorusskiy Parlament prinial odobrenniy veduschimi konfessiyami strani noviy zakon o svobode veroispovedaniy [The Belarusian Parliament adopted a new Law on the freedom of religions, which was supported by the main confessions of the country], 2 October 2002, http://www.pravoslavie.ru/news/020930/01.htm (accessed 8 November 2012). 50 Natsionalnoye sobraniye Respubliki Belarus. Zakon Respubliki Belarus o svobode sovesti i religioznikh organizatsiyakh [National Assembly of the Republic of Belarus. The Law of the Republic of Belarus on the Freedom of Conscience and Religious Organisations], 2002, http://pravo.by/main.aspx?guid=3871&p0=v1920 2054&p2={NRPA} (accessed 24 November 2012). 51 Leonid Guliako, television interview, 21 November 2011, http://churchby.info/ bel/741/ (accessed 8 November 2012). 52 Soglasheniye o sotrudnichestve mezhdu Respublikoi Belarus i Belorusskoi Pravoslavnoi Tserkoviyu [The Agreement on cooperation between the Republic of Belarus and the Belarusian Orthodox Church], http://www.church.by/resource/ Dir0009/Dir0015/index.html (accessed 8 November 2012). 53 Galina Ulitenok, ‘Gosudarstvo i pravoslavnaya tserkov oformili svoi otnosheniya’ [The State and the Orthodox Church Legalised their Relations], Sovetskaya Belorussiya, 13 June 2003.

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54 Metropolitan Philaret, ‘Vospitaniye veri’ [Upbringing of the faith], NG-Religiyi, 6 August 2003. 55 For example, the Belarusian Orthodox Church adopted programmes of cooperation with the National Academy of Sciences, Committee on the Prevention of the Consequences of the Chernobyl Nuclear Disaster and with the Ministries of Interior; Health; Information; Culture; Defence; Education; Emergencies; Natural Resources; Sport and Tourism; and Labour and Social Protection. 56 Razvitiye Pravoslavnogo obrazovaniya v Respublike Belarus [The Development of the Orthodox Education in the Republic of Belarus], Minsk: Izdatelstvo MIU, 2006, p. 7. 57 Yulia Vanina, ‘Minobrazovaniya i BPTs podpisali programmu sotrudnichestva na 2011–2014 godi’ [Ministry of Education and the Belarusian Orthodox Church signed the programme of cooperation for 2011–2014], 2011, http://news.tut.by/ society/222785.html (accessed 8 November 2012). 58 Ibid. 59 In 2010 the Church received 1.173 billion Belarusian roubles (US$391,000) for its educational establishments, 7.262 billion Belarusian roubles (US$2.42 million) for the restoration of the monastery in Zhirovichi, around 2 billion Belarusian roubles (around US$667,000) for the restoration of the monastery in Yurovichi and 9.958 billion Belarusian roubles (US$3.319 million) for the construction of the Theological Educational Centre in Minsk. This is calculated on the basis of the exchange rate of 3,000 roubles per US dollar, as of 30 December 2010. However, one needs to note that the exchange rate for most of 2011 was substantially different as a result of the devaluation of the Belarusian rouble (8,670 roubles per US dollar at the end of November 2011). 60 Igor Kolchenko and Vitaliy Volianiuk, ‘Bez dukhovnosti net cheloveka …’ [The human does not exist without spirituality …], 2009, http://www.sb.by/post/91604/ (accessed 8 November 2012). 61 Vitaliy Volianiuk, ‘Glavnoye – ostavatsia ludmi’ [The main thing is to remain human], 2011, http://www.sb.by/post/115410/ (accessed 8 November 2012). 62 Natalia Vasilevich, ‘Tsarkva i dziarzhava. Kropki napruzhannia’ [Church and state. The points of uneasiness], 2011, http://churchby.info/rus/733/ (accessed 8 November 2012). 63 Arhiv soobschneiy press-sluzbhy [The archive of press-service communications], 14 November 2011, http://www.president.gov.by/press132446.html (accessed 8 November 2012). 64 Siarhei Karalevich, ‘Aliaksand Lukashenka: ‘U dziarzhavi i tsarkvi adni i tiya zhe meti – -gramadskaya zgoda i adzinstva naroda’ [Alexander Lukashenko: ‘Both state and Church have the same goals: civil unity and the unity of the people’], Zviazda, 22 December 2006. 65 Author’s interview with Archpriest Alexander Shimbaliov, 4 January 2012. 66 Vasilevich, ‘Tsarkva i dziarzhava’. 67 Yulia Chirva, ‘Ikoni v uchebnikh zavedeniakh zapretit, a besov razreshit?’ [Are the icons going to be forbidden in educational establishments, but demons allowed?], 2011, http://sobor.by/helloing.htm (accessed 8 November 2012). 68 Author’s interview with Archpriest Alexander Shimbaliov, 4 January 2012. 69 For a list of political prisoners in Belarus, see http://www.lphr.org/en/news/newsdetails/article/liste-der-politischen-gefangenen-angeklagten-und-rechtswidrigverurteilten-in-belarus//3/ (accessed 8 November 2012). The Belarusian authorities deny that these people have been prosecuted for political reasons. 70 ‘Da Yaromenka ne puskayut sviatara’ [No priest is allowed to meet Yaromenok], 28 June 2011, http://nn.by/?c=ar&i=56491 (accessed 8 November 2012). 71 Natalia Vasilevich, ‘Falshiviye notki tserkovno-gosudarstvennoi simfoniyi’ [The false notes of the church–state symphony], 2011, http://churchby.info/rus/702/ (accessed 8 November 2012).

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72 Author’s interview with Archpriest Vasiliy Litvinko, 16 January 2012. 73 Belarus is characterised as a ‘not free’ country by Freedom House; see http://www. freedomhouse.org/template.cfm?page=363&year=2011&country=7995 (accessed 8 November 2012). 74 The first Monday after Easter ceased to be a public holiday during Lukashenko’s presidency. 75 Author’s interview with Archpriest Alexander Dzichkovskiy, Baranovichi, 26 December 2011. 76 Iz arkhiva mitropolita Philareta (Vakhromeyeva) [From the archives of metropolitan Philaret (Vakhromeyev)], Vypusk 2. Minsk: Belorusskiy Ekzarkhat, 2000, p. 118. 77 V Sinode Belorusskogo Ekzarkhata [In the Synod of the Belarusian Exarchate], MEV 1994–5, p. 98. 78 This department was dissolved in 2012. 79 Sergei Korolevich, ‘Vibory v Sovet Respubliki budut prokhodit na bezalternativnoi osnove’ [The election to the Council of the Republic will be on a one-man-for-oneseat basis], 2008, http://news.tut.by/politics/117481.html (accessed 8 November 2012). 80 See, for example, ‘Vistupleniye na IV Vsebelorusskom narodnom sobraniyi’ [Speech at the IV All-Belarusian Peoples Assembly], Minskiye Eparkhialniye Vedomosti, Minsk, 2001, no. 1, p. 49. 81 The Minsk Theological Seminary closed from 1918 to 1946, and then again in 1963, during Khrushchev’s persecution of the Church. 82 Minskaya Dukhovnaya Seminariya. 83 ‘Minskaya Dukhovnaya Akademiya imeni sviatitelia Kirilla Turovskogo’ [Minsk Theological Academy named after St Cyril of Turov], http://minds.by/academy/ academy.html (accessed 8 November 2012). 84 Ibid. 85 See: http://vak.org.by (accessed 8 November 2012). 86 Vitaliy Volianiuk, ‘Dukh ponimaniya’ [The spirit of understanding], 2009, http:// www.sb.by/post/83092/ (accessed 8 November 2012). 87 Author’s interview with Archpriest Alexander Shimbaliov, 4 January 2012. 88 Letter of the Chairman of VAK and Minister of Education to the Administration of President of the Republic of Belarus, 3 March 2009. Obtained by the author via email correspondence with VAK. 89 Sviderskiy, ‘Pravoslavnaya Tserkov v Belorussiyi’. 90 A theological seminary functioned previously in Vitebsk, 1856–1918. ‘Dukhovnaya Seminariya vozrodilas v Vitebske’ [The Orthodox Seminary was restored in Vitebsk] http://www.bogoslov.ru/text/1742052/index.html (accessed 8 November 2012). 91 See: http://www.inst.by/inst (accessed 8 November 2012). 92 See: www.christeducenter.by (accessed 8 November 2012). 93 Email correspondence with Matvei Rodov, Head of the Information Department of the parish ‘Consolation of All Who Sorrow’ in Minsk, 25 November 2011. 94 Ibid. 95 Alexander Brechek, ‘Soyuz kresta i migalki’ [The union of cross and flasher], Narodnaya volia, 24 February 2006. 96 Khronika [Chronicles], Minskiye Eparkhialniye Vedomosty, 2011, 97 (2), p. 72. 97 Teplova, ‘Pravoslavnaya Tserkov Belarusi’. 98 Email correspondence with Archpriest Sergiy Lepin, 8 March 2012. 99 US Department of State, International Religious Freedom Report 2010, Belarus, http://www.state.gov/j/drl/rls/irf/2010/148914.htm (accessed 8 November 2012).

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100 ‘Doklad Mitropolita Philareta na eparhialnom sobraniyi Minskoy eparkhii’ [Report of Metropolitan Philaret at the Diocese Assembly of Minsk Diocese], 2012, at http://www.church.by/resource/new2012/2012–01–05_doklad_MF.doc (accessed 8 November 2012). 101 Fr Alexander Shimbaliov, ‘Nichego strashnogo, esli vse mrakobesiye uidet v podpoliye’ [There is nothing dangerous if obscurantism goes underground], 2008, http://news.tut.by/society/114840.html (accessed 8 November 2012). 102 Volianiuk, ‘Dukh ponimaniya’. 103 See: http://news.tut.by/society/146565.html (accessed 8 November 2012). 104 The Church has been the most trusted institution in Belarus in the last fifteen years, normally with the level of trust exceeding 70 per cent, and this trend continues. Sergei Buzheyev, ‘Komu doveriayut belorusi’ [Whom Belarusians trust], 2009, http://news.tut.by/society/144077.html (accessed 8 November 2012). 105 See: http://www.church.by/resource/Dir0205/Dir0213/Dir0224/index.html (accessed 8 November 2012). 106 ‘Doklad Mitropolita Philareta’. 107 See: http://www.belarus21.by/ru/main_menu/religion/sotr/relig_sit (accessed 8 November 2012). 108 See: Data from the 2009 census. For more information see http://belstat.gov.by/ homep/ru/perepic/2009/itogi1.php (accessed 8 November 2012). 109 US Department of State, International Religious Freedom Report 2010, Belarus.

18 The Orthodox Church in Lithuania Regina Laukaitytė

Lithuania is a mono-ethnic, Catholic country. Despite periods of Russian occupation over the past 200 years, the majority of the population – over 80 per cent – is Lithuanian Catholic.1 The Orthodox faith has deep roots in the history of the Grand Duchy of Lithuania; however, after the 1596 Union of Brest it yielded to the pressure of the state authorities, which promoted the Uniate Church, and it declined in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. The fiercest struggle between the Orthodox and Uniate churches then occurred in the Slavic lands of the Grand Duchy of Lithuania, in particular along the short eastern border of the region and in Vilnius, while in the rest of the country, in the depths of Lithuania, there were hardly any Orthodox communities. Despite its relatively small spread in ethnic Lithuanian lands, Orthodoxy played an important role in the nineteenth century when the modern Lithuanian nation, seeking statehood, was being formed. The status of state religion, which Orthodoxy had during the tsarist period, forced Lithuanian Catholics to perceive their identity in a sensitive manner separate from the religion promoted by occupying authorities.

Lithuania’s Orthodox diocese The Orthodox Church in Lithuania was linked to the national rebirth ideology in the second half of the nineteenth century. In the eyes of the predominantly Catholic population, Orthodoxy was one of the most important instruments of Russification carried out by the tsarist authorities. The position of the Orthodox faith was strengthened by drastic measures which took place after the uprisings of 1831 and 1863 when the tsarist authorities issued a number of decrees discriminating against the Catholic Church. They settled Russian and Belarusian colonists in Catholic villages, and founded Orthodox churches, often providing them with the properties of closed Catholic monasteries and churches. Orthodoxy acquired the image of a ‘Russian’, thus foreign, aggressive faith, and did not cross ethnic boundaries. It remained mainly the religion of the country’s Russianspeaking ethnic population.

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As a result of ethnic hostilities, the heritage of the Russian Empire in Lithuania did not last long,2 and, after 1917, many Russian emigrants fled to the countries of Western and Central Eastern Europe rather than remain in the country. After the re-establishment of an independent Lithuanian state in 1918, Orthodox parishes lost almost all of the properties that the tsarist authorities had entrusted to them, although this loss was not paralleled by restrictions on the Church’s religious, social or cultural activities. The numbers of Orthodox faithful remained small and did not pose a threat to Lithuanian Catholic identity. Political leaders saw no reason to pursue a separation of the Lithuanian Orthodox diocese from the Moscow Patriarchate, or to interfere in church life, such as removing the old calendar.3 The Orthodox diocese took a new turn after the Soviet occupation of Lithuania. Between 1944 and 1990, Lithuania was part of the Soviet atheist state. In the first years of this period (1944–8), the Orthodox Church in Lithuania seemed to benefit from the support of the new regime. A spiritual seminary was founded, the Orthodox churches damaged by the war were rebuilt and repaired, relics of saints were returned from Moscow for adoration by believers and priests were appointed to those communities which numbered between forty and ninety parishioners.4 These actions aimed to strengthen the Orthodox position in the country, enabling church leaders to carry out tasks assigned by the Soviet authorities.5 The backing of the Soviet authorities discredited the Orthodox Church. Soviet support for the Orthodox communities was not welcomed by the local Lithuanian SSR authorities, which in many cases opposed privileges for the Orthodox diocese. Two Orthodox monasteries were permitted in Vilnius, while Catholic monasteries were closed throughout the country with a continuous discrimination against the scattered monks and nuns. In autumn 1948, the Lithuanian SSR authorities succeeded in persuading the central USSR government to give up its preferential support for the Orthodox Church. Although in the following years the Orthodox Church was not officially promoted, the strengthening of its structure in post-war years (rather than its radical weakening as occurred for all other confessions) helped it to survive under the harsh religious conditions of the Soviet regime. The Orthodox diocese was not entirely spared religious pressure, and between 1944 and 1990 the Soviet authorities closed nineteen Orthodox churches and houses of prayer; however, four of them were small parishes while the others were without a permanent priest. In addition, the Vilnius convent for nuns was liquidated in 1960 and its possessions were transferred to the monastery in the city which continued its activities. Orthodox communities were impoverished by the loss of church land and forced to pay high taxes on their properties and income. Furthermore, advancing secularisation and urban migration mercilessly affected most of them. With the loss of believers and priests the map of the diocese’s parishes began to change: one after another churches became without clergy, most of whom, except in Vilnius, were in charge of between two and six churches. The

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Orthodox faithful continued to be present in the main Lithuanian cities and, particularly, near the Kaliningrad oblast, because during the Soviet period the region did not have a single active Orthodox church and believers would travel to Lithuanian border towns, such as Tauragė and Kybartai.6

Lithuanian Orthodoxy and political changes 1989–1990 The most favourable period for the Orthodox Church in Lithuania was during the perestroika of Mikhail Gorbachev at the end of the 1980s when even Soviet Army officers and teachers became interested in their cultural roots, more people were baptised and received the sacraments and Orthodox churches began to be filled with people. However, political emancipation and efforts to restore an independent state raised more negative than positive emotions among the local Russians, who did not view favourably the new state borders appearing in 1990, dividing them from family members who remained in Russia. The rebirth of the Lithuanian state in 1990 came at the same time as the appointment by the Moscow Patriarchate of a new hierarch for the Lithuanian diocese to Vilnius Cathedral, namely Archbishop Chrysostom (Georgij Martishkin), who publicly supported state independence. Upon his arrival he encountered strong KGB pressure to support the local communists and the pro-Soviet local Russian political organisation Edintsvo [Unity], even to the extent that a warning shot was fired at the windows of his residence. At the end of 1990 he was elected a member of Lithuania’s Sąjūdis [Reform Movement of Lithuania] Council. He did not hesitate to condemn the crimes of the Soviet regime and the direct intervention of the Soviet Army in January 1991, when, in an attack on the Vilnius television tower, fourteen people were killed. The stance of Archbishop Chrysostom led to complaints directed to the Moscow Patriarchate which entailed his resignation from in the Sąjūdis Council.7 During the following years, the Archbishop continued to face criticism from supporters of the previous Soviet system and was even attacked during the liturgy. Despite opposition from local Orthodox believers, Archbishop Chrysostom played a positive role in shaping the political sentiments of ethnic Russians in the transitional post-Soviet period. With his unambiguous political line he earned the sympathy of Lithuanian society and neutralised political passions. The Archbishop admitted that out of the twenty-eight clergy of his diocese, only two (Monk Hilarion (Alfeyev) in Kaunas and Archimandrit Antonij (Buravcov) in Klaipėda) expressed support for Lithuania’s independence. In his own words, ‘The others … were silent.’8 This silence was marked by opposition to him, although he, nevertheless, succeeded in convincing the diocese’s clergy to remain neutral, and not to join the political opposition hostile to independence. A number of clergy left Lithuania (such as the leader of the Vilnius Holy Spirit Monastery, Adrian Uljanov). A neutral position

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remained constant over the following years, as the Orthodox clergy refrained from participating in the political life of the state and from being involved in the numerous Russian social and political organisations in the country.9 Archbishop Chrysostom has claimed that the Orthodox diocese of Lithuania is fully independent. According to church law, the Moscow Patriarch is entitled to change its leader, although he is unable to interfere in internal Lithuanian matters and may only make recommendations.10 Close contact with the Moscow Patriarchate was evident in July 1997 when Patriarch Aleksii II of Moscow and All Russia paid the first official visit of a Russian Patriarch to Lithuania. Furthermore, in 2000, Chrysostom was raised to the rank of metropolitan by the Moscow Patriarchate. Independent Lithuania positioned Russian Orthodox believers in the midst of social, religious and political changes, such as the radically altered juridical status of the Orthodox diocese, new church–state relations and the encouragement given to religious, social and cultural activities. All ethnic minorities were given the right to become citizens, with the majority of ethnic Russians accepting Lithuanian citizenship. Article 43 of the Constitution states that ‘there is no state religion in Lithuania’ and guarantees that churches and religious organisations have the right to manage their own affairs according to their canons and statutes; to proclaim freely the teachings of their faith; to conduct ceremonies; to have houses of prayer, charity offices and schools for the training of clergy.11 Current legislation assigns a different status to Christian churches, dividing them into three, namely ‘traditional’, ‘state recognised’ and only ‘registered’. The Orthodox Church along with the Catholic Church and seven other religious minorities are considered ‘traditional’ religions, i.e. with a recognised contribution to the historical, spiritual and social heritage of Lithuania. ‘Traditional’ religions enjoy a number of privileges, such as the ability to register marriages, regular financial support from the state determined according to the number of believers, the possibility of teaching religion in state schools, tax exemptions and the employment of clergy chaplains in the Army.12 The Orthodox diocese receives annual financial support from the state, although, this has seen a decrease in recent years (86,700 litas,13 around €25,000 in 2012). In the 1990s the churches which were closed during the Soviet period and nationalised properties were returned to the Orthodox diocese. In particular, the restitution of properties has been an important financial resource for the small diocese, as many buildings are in the old town of Vilnius and their rental fees comprise primary revenues. This stable income into the diocese treasury enabled Archbishop Chrysostom to undertake economic reforms, most significantly releasing the parish clergy from payments to headquarters. This decision was a significant incentive for the less populous and rather poor parishes, although, at the same time, the Archbishop seemed to encourage the clergy to administer their parishes more independently and not to expect automatic financial support.14

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The issue of lustration, the first wave of which rolled through Lithuania between 1988 and 1992, did not affect the Orthodox diocese of Lithuania, as most public attention focused on the Catholic clergy. In 1991 Archbishop Chrysostom publicly admitted that he had contact with the KGB.15 The following year, during the Assembly of the Russian Orthodox Church in Moscow he agreed with the proposal to establish a special commission in charge of disclosing contact between security agents and Orthodox clergy, especially hierarchs. However, the commission did not produce any results. Archbishop Chrysostom remains the only member of the Russian Orthodox Church hierarchy to have admitted his cooperation with the state security system, pointing out in one of his interviews that ‘I maintained contact with the KGB, but I was not a sneak.’16 He stated that he had no alternative and had to behave according to the rules of the political regime. These ties allowed him to behave more bravely and to defend the rights of the Church effectively. Despite Archbishop Chrysostom’s admission of cooperation with the KGB, he did not start a lustration process in his own Orthodox diocese.17 Such efforts would have brought him into conflict with the lower clergy, with whom he was in tense relations at the beginning of his appointment, as revealed in an 1994 interview when he stated that ‘I practically do not have any contact with my brother clergy.’18 Over the coming years, a new generation of clergy began to alleviate the tension between the Archbishop and the most clergy. As the Orthodox Diocese of Lithuania does not have a spiritual seminary, most clergy come from other Russian dioceses and between 1990 and 2005 Archbishop Chrysostom ordained as many as twenty-eight deacons and priests.19 Most clergy have completed their theological studies at the Zhirovichy, Minsk, Moscow or St Petersburg seminaries. Even during the Soviet period a relatively large percentage of Orthodox clergy working in Lithuania completed a higher theological education (while the USSR average of clergy with higher theological education was around 50 per cent, between 1966 and 1985 the diocese of Lithuania boasted around 72 per cent).20

Religious life In the post-Soviet period Orthodox parishes in Lithuania decreased significantly in size because many Russian inhabitants left the country to live abroad. According to national statistics, Russians are, in general, less religious than the other inhabitants of Lithuania. In the last two decades, Lithuanian society has shown clear signs of becoming increasingly secular. According to official data, each Lithuanian Orthodox parish has around 2,400 believers, although this figure remains disputed; at the same time, only the Orthodox churches in the large cities have a high number of worshippers. In recent years the parishes of villages and small cities have decreased dramatically, to the extent that in almost half of the diocese, churches do not hold regular services. In 2011, the liturgy was officiated frequently in only

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twenty-seven of the fifty-three registered parishes; in six parishes the liturgy was officiated only once or twice per month, in fifteen parishes once or several times during the year; while five churches have stopped officiating the liturgy altogether.21 Even though after 1990 the Orthodox Church regained all of its churches which were closed by the Soviet authorities, the hope of a religious rebirth has not been fulfilled. The small number of believers in villages and other smaller cities, many of whom are of an older age, are unable to financially support their church, let alone a priest. On the other hand, between 1990 and 2011, new Orthodox churches were built in those cities which had a stable Russian community and where the Soviet authorities had refused to allow churches. During this period, around eight Orthodox churches and houses of prayer were opened.22 Their construction was carried out with the support of the local community, businesses and volunteer donations. Religious education has been a major area of concern for the Church leadership. In Lithuania, classes on the Orthodox faith are conducted in forty-four Russian secondary schools.23 Teachers of religion are prepared through two-year courses organised by the Church in cooperation with the St Tikhon Orthodox Theological Institute in Moscow. Moreover, Orthodox parishes organise Sunday schools intended not only for children, but also for adults. In addition, the Holy Spirit Monastery in Vilnius has a number of courses on the Holy Scriptures. The church leadership has also tried to renew the life of smaller parishes, organising summer camps and visits of children and secondary school pupils to churches in Vilnius, Kaunas and other cities. Since 23 January 2005, the Sunday Orthodox liturgy has been frequently given in the Lithuanian language in one of the churches in Vilnius. This has proved to be an important event in the history of the Orthodox diocese. During the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, this decision would have been perceived in only one way, namely as an attempt of the occupying political authorities to impose their religion. The John Chrysostom Liturgy was translated into Lithuanian in 1887;24 however, it did not spread because there were no Lithuanian-speaking Orthodox clergy. In 1946, the political authorities tried to implement the new liturgy, but it was not accepted by the local community. The 2005 decision shows the efforts of the Orthodox Church not to remain only associated with the Russian-speaking population but also to appeal to the younger generation, which speaks Lithuanian. This move has been supported by changes in education, namely, in the early 1990s there were thirty-three Russian secondary schools in Vilnius while in 2011 there are only thirteen; in Kaunas the numbers dropped from four schools to one. It is difficult to ascertain whether demographic identity is changing – the Orthodox faith ‘becoming Lithuanian’ – helping the Church to address successfully societal challenges. Between 2005 and 2011, the numbers show that the Lithuanian liturgy was attended by a regular small community of around thirty believers.25

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The Orthodox Church does not have its own theological publications. Information about the diocese’s life is published on the internet.26 After Archbishop Inokentij (Vasiljev) took over the diocese at the beginning of 2011, texts also began to be issued in Lithuanian. A number of parishes – in Vilnius, Visaginas, Kaunas, Palanga – have websites in which local news is interspersed with historical facts.27 The lack of an official church press has been counteracted by the Orthodox Brotherhood in Vilnius, an active organisation established in 1995 providing aid to parishes, organising religious education and cultural events, and, between 2005 and 2011, publishing a monthly newspaper Vstrecha [Getting Together]. In addition, another significant religious organisation active in Vilnius is Lithuania’s Orthodox Education Society Zhivoi kolos [Live Ear],28 which promotes cultural projects in cooperation with the Church and religious bodies in Russia and Belarus.

Orthodox monasteries In Lithuania there are two active Orthodox monasteries, both in Vilnius: the Holy Spirit, a monastery established around 1597 and with only a male population, and St Mary Magdalene, established in 1865 for nuns. Both monasteries are rather small and are often visited by pilgrims from Belarus, Russia, Ukraine and Poland. The Holy Spirit Monastery had a significant role during the Soviet period, when a limited number of monasteries existed in the USSR. Vilnius was seen as a centre of religious importance and the Holy Spirit Monastery was especially significant, as in 1946 the relics were brought there of Sts Ivan, Antony and Eustachius. Many people from the USSR, even from remote corners of the country, travelled to the monastery. The monastery was also important because after a six-month training programme a significant number of people were ordained and would later graduate from spiritual seminaries. The monastery received financial support from Orthodox communities throughout the Soviet Union, an income which was essential for the survival of Lithuania’s Orthodox diocese after 1962, when the Soviet authorities categorically forbade the Moscow Patriarchate from financing Lithuanian parishes. However, the monastery suffered a significant blow after 1990, when the stream of financial support from the Soviet Union decreased, and in 2011, the monastery had only nine monks. Nevertheless, the Holy Spirit Monastery remains a significant site, as the diocese’s Chancellery and the residence of the archbishop are located there. Since 1993, the monastery’s library has made public its wealth of spiritual and historical literature, while a youth hostel welcomes students studying in Vilnius. The St Mary Magdalene Convent was officially closed in 1960 and its population was transferred to one of the buildings of the Holy Spirit Monastery. The monastery was widely recognised as a revered centre of spirituality and seven nuns were later appointed as heads of other convents in other republics

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of the USSR. The monastery was restored in 1989. In 2011 it had eleven nuns, a drop from twenty-eight in 1960 and seventeen in 1990.29 In addition to the two monasteries in Vilnius, the Orthodox Church has an Orthodox monastery in Mikniškės, around 30 km from the capital. This monastery represents a unique religious phenomenon of Orthodox expression in Lithuania. In the early 1920s Fr Pontii Rupishev established a small community, with members drawn from farms who wished to preserve celibacy, attend a daily liturgy and observe the other sacraments. After the Second World War, the Soviet authorities tried several times to liquidate the community; however, it succeeded only in halting the admission of new members. In 2011, it remains active, officially registered as a ‘Christian Agricultural Community’ and supported by pilgrims from Russia, Belarus and other countries.30 In 1997, the community comprised around sixty people; this figure also has to take into account that for the last twenty years there have been no new members.31

Ecumenical dialogue Religious minorities in Lithuania have lived quite isolated from one another. In 1928, representatives of the Orthodox, Evangelical Lutheran, Reformist and Methodist churches held the first solemn ecumenical service in the history of Lithuanian churches. However, the gathering did not have a long-term impact. Metropolitan Elevferiy (Bogoyavlenski), who led the Orthodox Church, refrained from other ecumenical activities in the interwar period because of his close ties with Moscow. The Soviet regime encouraged a presence in the ecumenical movement only in the 1960s and until the 1980s contact with other Lithuanian churches increased, mainly in the form of exchange visits and church leaders attending other bodies’ religious services. Since 1990, the Orthodox Diocese of Lithuania has been an active promoter of relations with Lithuania’s Catholic and Evangelical churches. Although Archbishop Chrysostom was present at many ecumenical conferences, some of which were more important than others, such as in 1992, when eight Christian churches decided to establish the Lithuania Bible Society, his presence was mainly polite and pragmatic. Archbishop Inokentij (Vasiljev) has developed the ecumenical dialogue, and from the first year of his leadership met with the leaders of Lithuania’s Catholic Church and attended a number of Catholic ceremonies. In his first interviews he spoke in favour of active cooperation between churches in defending the spiritual values of all Christians. After 1990, relations between the Lithuanian Orthodox diocese and the re-established Greek Catholic Church became tense, particularly around the 1991 restitution of the Holy Trinity Church in Vilnius Old Town, which was located close to Orthodox headquarters. The restitution, which took place with the support of the political authorities, dissatisfied the Orthodox diocese. The Greek Catholic faithful celebrate the liturgy in Ukrainian and its numbers are relatively small, with the 2001 census indicating only 364 believers

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in Lithuania.32 Tensions between the Orthodox and Greek Catholics have remained constant over the last two decades, as evident in the decision of an Orthodox priest in Kaunas to enter the Greek Catholic Church in 1995; however, his congregation was very small, with only five members.33 A reconciliatory approach became more evident in 2003, when Archbishop Chrysostom declared in an interview: ‘In my opinion Greek Catholics are Christians, brothers of our blood, Slavs. What will happen if we Slavs split up?’34

Conclusion The 1989–90 political events which led to the re-establishment of an independent Lithuania were a veritable challenge for the country’s Orthodox diocese. The diocese represented the small Russian-speaking religious minority, with around 4 per cent of the population identifying itself with Orthodoxy. Archbishop Chrysostom had strongly and unambiguously supported the goals of Lithuania’s statehood and distanced himself from pro-Soviet sentiments dominating the diocese and the Russian community. The adaptation of the Orthodox to independence was without doubt eased by the radically changed legal status of the Church and by religious, social and cultural opportunities. The Orthodox diocese received its previously expropriated property back from the Soviet authorities, while the state also ensured that the Church enjoyed tax benefits and financial support. However, favourable contemporary religious conditions in Lithuania are at odds with a significant decrease in the number of believers. The diocese’s leadership had begun to look for solutions which could even affect the identity of the Church: the diocese is attempting to ‘become more Lithuanian’. Since 2005 for the first time in the history of the diocese, in one of the Orthodox churches in Vilnius the services have been in the Lithuanian language, while Lithuanian texts have been published in the Orthodox press. Although the Lithuanian Orthodox diocese has close ties with the Moscow Patriarchate, the church leadership claims to be fully independent. However, there has been no discussion about the issuing of an autocephalous status from Moscow, mainly because the Lithuanian Orthodox diocese is too small and the faithful has no experience of separation from the jurisdiction of the Russian Orthodox Church. Such a discussion would split the Orthodox community and raise tension between Lithuania and Russia.

Appendix 1

Religious leaders

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Metropolitan Chrysostom (Georgij Martishkin) (1934–), in office 1990–2010 Archbishop Inokentij (Valerii Fedorovicz Vasiljev) (1947–), in office 2010–.

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366 2

Regina Laukaitytė Biography

Title: Archbishop of Vilnius and Lithuania. Archbishop Inokentij (Valerii Fedorovicz Vasiljev) was born in the city of Staraya Russa in the Novgorod district on 7 October 1947. In 1975 he graduated from the Moscow State International Relations Institute and in May 1981 was ordained deacon. Between 1982 and 1985 he worked in the chancellery of the Kursk diocese and later in Orthodox churches in Irkutsk, Chabarovsk and Chita. In 1989 he graduated from the Moscow Spiritual Seminary as a part-time student. On 15 January 1992 he took monastic vows and on 26 January was ordained Bishop of Chabarovsk and Blagoveshchensk. In 1995 he was appointed Bishop of Dmitrov, Vicar of the diocese of Moscow, and Deputy Chairman of the Moscow Patriarchate’s Foreign Church Relations Section. In 1996 he was appointed Bishop of Chita and Trans-Baikal, and in 1999 Bishop of Corsun in France (the Russian Orthodox Church parishes of Italy, Switzerland, Spain and Portugal belong to the Corsun diocese). On 25 February 2002 he was elevated to Archbishop and between 2006 and 2007 he also temporarily headed the Surozh diocese in Great Britain and Ireland. On 24 December 2010 the Holy Synod of the Russian Orthodox Church appointed him Archbishop of Vilnius and Lithuania. 3

Theological publications

No theological publications. 4

Congregations

Structure of the Church: one diocese, 3 deaneries, 53 registered parishes, but services only regularly take place in 27 parishes. Number of clergy and church buildings: 47 clergy and 6 deacons. Holy Spirit Monastery, Vilnius has 9 monks while St Mary Magdalene Convent, Vilnius has 11 nuns. The diocese has 49 Orthodox churches and 4 houses of prayer. 5

Population

In 2011 84.2 per cent of the Lithuanian population considered themselves as Roman Catholics, 4.1 per cent Orthodox (125,189 people). The census also revealed that 88.6 per cent Poles, 82.9 per cent Lithuanians and 11.9 per cent Russians are members of the Roman Catholic Church; 51.5 per cent of Russians are members of the Orthodox community; and 11.8 per cent of Russians are members of the Old Believers community.35

Notes 1 Although Lithuania was part of the Russian Empire from 1795 to 1914 and of the USSR from 1944 to 1990, the size of the ethnic Russian population remained

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3

4 5 6 7

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small. According to the 1923 census almost 84 per cent of the population of the Republic was Lithuanian (1.7 million) while Russians numbered around 2.5 per cent (about 50,000) with around 23,000 people considering themselves Orthodox. Almost 80 per cent of Lithuania’s Orthodox were Russians (18,020 people), 8 per cent Lithuanians (1,747 people) and 7 per cent Belarusians (1,625 people): Lietuvos gyventojai: Pirmojo 1923 m. rugsėjo 17 d. visuotinio gyventojų surašymo duomenys [Lithuania’s Population: Data from 17 September 1923, the First Census of the General Population], Kaunas: Lietuvos Respublikos Centrinis Statistikos Biuras, 1926, pp. 27–34, available at http://www.stat.gov.lt/uploads/leidiniai/Lietuvos_gyv_ sur.pdf ?PHPSESSID=20ac386af43677d21a688d729f85b408 (accessed 9 November 2011). According to the 2011 census Lithuanians comprise 84.2 per cent of the population of the Republic of Lithuania with 6.6 per cent Poles and 5.8 per cent Russians. No data were collected on the religious beliefs of Lithuania’s population between 1923 and 2001. In 2001 almost 84 per cent of the Lithuanian population considered themselves as believers, with 79 per cent declaring themselves Roman Catholics (82.9 per cent in 2011) and 4 per cent Orthodox (in 2001 and 2011; 125,189 people in 2011): ‘2001 m. surašymas: Romos katalikų daugiausia’ [The 2001 Census: Roman Catholics Most Numerous], the Lithuanian Department of Statistics, available at http://www.stat.gov.lt/lt/news/view/?id=292 (accessed 3 October 2011); Lietuvos gyventojai 2011 metais [Lithuanian 2011 Population Census in Brief], Vilnius: Lietuvos statistikos departamentas, 2012, pp. 20, 26, available at http://www.stat.gov.lt/uploads/Lietuvos_gyventojai_2011.pdf (accessed 11 January 2013). It was much more numerous in the Slavic lands of the Grand Duchy of Lithuania. When Lithuania was annexed by tsarist Russia at the end of the eighteenth century it did not have a single Orthodox parish church and the religious needs of Orthodox believers (numbering around 400) were met by four monasteries. The monasteries lacked monks and discipline and two of them were closed at the beginning of the nineteenth century. However, between then and the First World War, in the ‘Lithuanian’ part of the Orthodox Diocese of Lithuania and Vilnius, i.e. in the borders of the independent Republic of Lithuania founded in 1918 (without Vilnius and the Vilnius region, which until 1939 were part of the Republic of Poland), forty-eight parishes and three monasteries were founded. Moreover, there were eighteen additional Orthodox churches for the army garrisons and forty-one non-parish churches (school, hospital, prison, cemetery chapels), for a total of 110 Orthodox churches: ‘The Appeal to the President of the April 4, 1927 Meeting of the Orthodox Diocese of Lithuania’, Lithuanian Central State Archive, fond 377, inventory 9, file 87, leaf 182. Regina Laukaitytė, Stačiatikių Bažnyčia Lietuvoje XX amžiuje [The Orthodox Church in Lithuania in the 20th Century], Vilnius: Lietuvos istorijos institutas, 2003, p. 36. In the brief 1918–40 period a new net of parishes was created. There were thirty-one parishes, but the structure essential for full Church and spiritual life were not created. There were no monasteries, no spiritual seminary (spiritual courses conducted in 1930–2 prepared some clergy of the younger generation). In the fall of 1939 after Vilnius and the Vilnius region was joined to Lithuania, the diocese added fourteen Orthodox churches, two monasteries, and about 12,000 believers. Laukaitytė, Stačiatikių Bažnyčia, pp. 122–35. Ibid., pp. 122–4. Ibid., pp. 135–64. Nikolaj Zhukov, ‘Archiereiskie problemy i zaboty. Beseda s mitropolitom Vilenskim i Litovskim Chrizostomom’ [Problems and Concerns of the Archbishop. Talk with Metropolitan of Vilnius and Lithuania Chrysostom], Respublika [The Republic], 21 October 2005, p. 8. Ibid.

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9 There are around seventy Russian cultural, social and local organisations in Lithuania. See the website ‘Lithuania’s Russians’ at http://www.ruskij.lt/index. php?cp=rusorgkontakt (accessed 5 October 2011). 10 Zhukov, ‘Archiereiskie problemy i zaboty’, p. 8. 11 Lietuvos Respublikos Konstitucija [The Constitution of the Republic of Lithuania,] available at http://www3.lrs.lt/home/Konstitucija/Konstitucija.htm (accessed 5 October 2011). 12 Religinių bendruomenių ir bendrijų įstatymas [The Law of Religious Communities and Associations], Valstybės žinios [State News], 4 October 1995, no. 89-1985; Tikėjimo laisvė ir religinių bendruomenių bei bendrijų statusas Lietuvoje [Freedom of Religion and the Status of Religious Communities and Associations in Lithuania], the Lithuanian Centre for Human Rights, available at http://www.manoteises.lt/ index.php?lang=1&sid=535&tid=600 (accessed 7 November 2011). 13 Lietuvos Respublikos vyriausybės nutarimas dėl lėšų paskirstymo tradicinių Lietuvos Bažnyčių ir religinių organizacijų vadovybėms [Decision of the Government of the Republic of Lithuania on the Distribution of Funds to the Leaders of the Traditional Churches and Religious Organisations of Lithuania, Government of the Republic of Lithuania site], 27 June 2012, available at http://tar.tic.lt/Default.a spx?id=2&item=results&aktoid=E8B18682-BDB3–4080–8305-DF6EBDB6A974 (accessed 22 December 2012). 14 Mitropolit Vilenskii Chrizostom, ‘Pastyrstvo est kontakt s licznostju’ [Spiritual duties are contact with someone’s personality], Christianstvo v istorii [Christianity in History], 1994, available at http://krotov.info/spravki/persons/bishops/martish. html#55 (accessed 9 November 2011). 15 Michail Pozdniaev, ‘Ja sotrudnichal s KGB … no ne byl stukachiom’ (interviu archiepiskopa Vilenskogo i Litovskogo Chrizostoma) [‘I maintained contacts with the KGB … but I was not a sneak’ (interview with Metropolitan Chrysostom of Vilnius and Lithuania)], Russkaja mysl [Russian Thought], 24 April 1992. 16 Chrizostom Martishkin, ‘Sovershenno sekretno’ [Completely secret], July 2003 [Interview with the journalist Leonid Velechov], available at http://krotov. info/spravki/persons/bishops/martish.html (accessed 4 November 2011). 17 The KGB infiltration in the small Orthodox diocese of Lithuania was almost open; the leaders of the diocese could not appoint to an important role any person whose candidacy had not been coordinated with the ‘organs’. 18 Mitropolit Vilenskii Chrizostom, ‘Pastyrstvo est kontakt s licznostju’. 19 German Szlevis, Pravoslavnyje chramy Litvy [Lithuania’s Orthodox Temples], 2006, p. 7. 20 Laukaitytė, Stačiatikių Bažnyčia, p. 158. 21 Author’s interview with Fr Vitalijus Mockus on 12 October 2011. 22 Two Orthodox churches appeared in Klaipėda and Visaginas (in the latter city there is an atomic power plant and the larger population, of which 56 per cent is Russian; 21 per cent in Klaipėda). In some places (Palanga (nearly 7 per cent), Šalčininkai (5 per cent)) new Orthodox churches were built, while in other places churches are under construction (Klaipėda, Visaginas) or modest Orthodox chapels have been arranged in schools (Klaipėda, Jonava, Šilutė). 23 Author’s interview with Fr Vitalijus Mockus on 17 October 2011. 24 As was the case with other official publications at that time, it has been printed in Cyrillic since the tsarist authorities forbad publication in Latin characters. This prohibition lasted for forty years and had the opposite effect of that anticipated as these measures encouraged Lithuanian resistance, the boycott of Russian schools and the extensive illegal distribution of the Lithuanian press. 25 Author’s interview with Fr Vitalijus Mockus, St Paraskeva Orthodox church in Vilnius on 12 October 2011.

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26 See: http://www.orthodoxy.lt (accessed 20 November 2012). 27 These include, in the Vilnius parishes, the Holy Mother of God Assumption into Heaven Cathedral: http://sobor.lt/, Sts Konstantin and Mikhail: http://www.kimp. lt/ and St Eufrosin: http://www.cerkvica.lt/; in Visaginas parish, the Birth of St John the Baptist: http://orthodox.vndv.com/ and St Pantaleimon: http://orthodox. tts.lt/; in Kaunas Annunciation Cathedral: http://www.blagovest.lt/; in Palanga parish: http://www.cerkov.lt/ (accessed 20 November 2012). 28 Lithuania’s Orthodox Brotherhood: http://www.pbl.lt/; Lithuania’s Orthodox Education Society ‘Zhivoi kolos’: http://www.kolos.lt/ (accessed 20 November 2012). 29 Author’s interview with Fr Vitalijus Mockus on 17 October 2011; Laukaitytė, Stačiatikių Bažnyčia, pp. 173 and 177. 30 Laukaitytė, Stačiatikių Bažnyčia, pp. 165 and 177–80; Irina Arefieva, ‘Kliashtor. Rasskaz ob obshchine mirian v mestechke Michnovo, Litva’ [Monastery. Story of the Lay Community in the Small Town of Mikniškės, Lithuania], available at http://www.miloserdie.ru/index.php?ss=20&s=30&id=2540 (accessed 3 October 2011). 31 Author’s interview with Fr Vitalijus Mockus on 17 October 2011. 32 ‘Lietuvos gyventojai pagal tikybą’ [Lithuania’s population according to religion], http://www.religija.lt/straipsniai/tyrimai-analize-nuomones/lietuvos-gyventojaipagal-tikyba (accessed 22 October 2011). 33 ‘Prichody i obshchiny Belorusskoi greko-katolicheskoi cerkvi’ [The Greek-Catholic Church parishes and communities of Belarus], available at http://www.hierarchy. religare.ru/h-uniate-belprihodi.html (accessed 26 October 2011). 34 Martishkin, Sovershenno sekretno. 35 Lietuvos gyventojai 2011 metais.

19 The Latvian Orthodox Church Inese Runce and Jelena Avanesova

The consolidation of the Orthodox Church in the Baltic States and on the territory of the present-day Latvia has been taking place for centuries. The denomination gradually increased in number, acquired a certain position in the multi-confessional Latvian society by stabilising the qualities of its pastoral ministry and became the third largest religious denomination in the country. Eastern Orthodox Christianity in Latvia has grown thanks to two major factors: first, because of its historical and geopolitical circumstances (the proximity and border with Orthodox Russia and its conquest policy); second, its longstanding commercial and political relations with Russia and immigration of the Russian population. However, the geopolitical conditions and historical events associated with nearby Orthodox Russia have not always strengthened the denomination’s position; it has often been quite the opposite.

Historical overview Written and archaeological sources indicate that the Orthodox monks of Novgorod, Pskov and Polotsk had already at the end of the eleventh century started to Christianise the Baltic pagan tribes in the territory of modern Eastern Latvia, even before the territory had become interesting to the Western Christian Church and the so-called Northern crusades. The Western Christian Church at the end of the twelfth century more successfully implemented Christianisation processes as the state power supplied the crusade campaign with financial and political support. The divided Orthodox Russia was not only unable to provide its missionaries with such support, but also, taking into account the difficult political situation there, it was not seriously interested in implementing Christianisation. For the next six centuries, Orthodoxy survived and existed only in the major regional cultural and Hanseatic trading centres – Riga and Tartu – as the religion and culture of Russian merchants and craftsmen.1 In the second half of the seventeenth century after Patriarch Nikhon and the Tsar’s government had implemented some controversial reforms regarding the Russian Orthodox Church, quite large groups of their opponents

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arrived in the Baltic region. They were persecuted in Russia, but the local Baltic aristocracy and society protected and took care of them. These implacable Russian Orthodox splinter groups were called the ‘Raskolniki’; they considered themselves guardians of the ‘correct’ Orthodoxy, but among locals they became known as the Old Believers. Gradually, in the eighteenth century this religious group in the Baltic area, including Latvia, where its largest part had settled, became a separate religious denomination, not recognised by the Russian state. It was like a symbolic religious opposition to the Orthodox Church which had grown together with the Russian government and the Tsar’s power. Their non-political attitude and the undivided loyalty resulted in a favourable attitude towards them in the Baltic provinces from local governments and public. Once the Baltic area was gradually incorporated into the Russian Empire in the eighteenth century, the efforts of the tsarist government to strengthen the position of the Orthodox Church by political means caused hostility and prejudice in local society. This dislike and resentment particularly increased in the middle and the second half of the nineteenth century in the shadow of Russian nationalism and Russification measures, when conversions to Orthodoxy in the Baltic provinces were encouraged by the state power. The image of the Orthodox Church as ‘the Russian and the Tsar’s Church’ in society remained dominant and unchanged, despite the growing number of Orthodox Latvians and the increased quality of pastoral ministry in the second half of the nineteenth century. The image was widely used and cultivated during the political debates in independent Latvia during the 1920s and the 1930s. Without exaggeration it can be said that the stereotype of the Orthodox Church as the ‘Russian Church’ continues to exist even in the contemporary Latvian intellectual and political milieu, in public memory and in the official historiography. On 14 July 1850, the Moscow Patriarchate founded the independent diocese of Riga, which was to supervise the Latvian and Estonian Orthodox congregations. The number of faithful had reached 146,000, and there were 109 places of worship and 2 monasteries.2 After Latvia declared its independence in 1918, the independent and autonomous Latvian Orthodox Church (LOC) was established. Unlike the Estonian Orthodox Church, which, with the blessing of the public authorities, broke away from the Moscow Patriarchate and became a legal entity of the Patriarchate of Constantinople, the LOC retained its canonical subordination to Moscow until the authoritarian regime of Kārlis Ulmanis in the second half of the 1930s. To a large extent, this happened because of the recalcitrant authoritarian position of Bishop Jānis (Pommers), his ability to make people (both Orthodox Latvians and Russians) follow his views as the head of the Church.3 The Latvian government, the Social Democratic political elite, the national right-wing circles and representatives of other (nonOrthodox) denominations, looked at the LOC, its leadership and religious hierarchy of power with doubt and some feelings of historical revenge. The

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number of Orthodox believers in 1920 came to 138,803 (among them 53,396 Latvians). The number slowly rose throughout the interwar period, but mostly among the Russian part of the population.4 In 1934 a series of radical changes took place in the history of the LOC. After Kārlis Ulmanis’s coup on 15 May,5 religion became one of the pillars of state power, although the LOC did not enjoy any special favours from the new administration. In October, Archbishop Jānis (Pommers) was murdered in circumstances that remain unclear. Even today no reliable evidence has been found of the possible murderer or initiator. While it is clear that Kārlis Ulmanis’s regime had nothing to do with the murder, he used the LOC’s moment of weakness to compel it to separate from the Patriarchate of Moscow and to switch to Constantinople’s jurisdiction, as had happened in 1923 in Finland and Estonia. In June 1940 the Soviet Union occupied Latvia and the LOC switched back to the jurisdiction of the Moscow Patriarchate. After the Second World War, Sovietisation programmes were implemented on Latvian territory. Under such programmes a large numbers of Russianspeakers came or were brought to Latvia. These people were originally Orthodox, but had secularised or had been made to secularise by Soviet power. Today the descendants of these immigrants form the majority of the LOC. The LOC, just as all other religious groups, was persecuted and spied on by the Latvian KGB. It was supervised and controlled by the Council of Religious Cults of the Soviet Socialistic Latvia (LPSR Reliģijas kultu lietu padome), and this was the institution with the direct subordination to the Council of Religious Cults of the USSR. All LOC property was nationalised and confiscated, while congregations were forced to pay high taxes to keep churches open. During the time of Stalin’s Terror (1945–53) a large part of the clergy was placed in Latvian prisons or killed. Khrushchev’s era (1958–64) can be characterised as a time of more emotional than physical church persecution: believers and clergy were tracked and intimidated, economic sanctions against churches increased and taxes were raised even higher. The Latvian Orthodox congregations experienced this policy very directly. Many of them were historically located in the countryside, were small and not very wealthy. In comparison to the ruthless Soviet church policy in other Soviet republics, the situation in the Baltic area was more favourable. The state institutions were more tolerant, the clergy were educated and more courageous in their works and words, the faithful were confident and more capable of fighting for their rights. In the 1970s and the 1980s, the persecutions were over, the economic sanctions and the tax burden decreased, but the LOC was still limited in its actions and remained under the control of the state power.

The Latvian Orthodox Church and the collapse of communism, 1989–1991 The reform processes in the USSR of the 1980s made religious groups and believers more active. State and church relations researcher Mihail Odincov

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points out that there was a rapid increase in the activities of various religious groups between 1985 and 1990 in the whole of the USSR as well as attempts by the Soviet authorities to reform relations between state and church. This can be confirmed by the numerous applications to legally register new congregations received by the Council of Religious Cults of the USSR. However, Odincov acknowledges that the number of requests in the Baltic republics overall was rather insignificant and almost imperceptible in the Latvian SSR.6 This was likely due to the sufficiently stable and relatively tolerant relations between religious and state institutions that existed in Latvia in the 1980s. Russian historian Nadezhda Beliakova also points out in her recent research that the Baltic republics, especially Latvia, were ‘an oasis of Orthodoxy in the USSR’ because there were active churches and monasteries and religious literature was published.7 All in all, about ninety Orthodox churches operated throughout the territory of Latvia.8 Reforms initiated by the General Secretary of the Soviet Communist Party Mikhail Gorbachev in Soviet political and economic life in 1985 were not initially directed at the liberalisation of its religious policy. Odincov has called this period (1985–7) ‘the lost time’.9 Obviously, the Soviet authorities did not consider religious issues to be of primary importance and did not think that political opposition able to listen to the needs of religious groups and engaging them in political processes would arise in the Baltic republics. This was a moment of political change. The majority of Latvian religious denominations, including the clergy, participated actively in the nationalist movement, the so-called ‘Singing Revolution’, supporting the efforts to restore national independence. Religious leaders and ordinary believers stressed the need not only to restore Latvian independence, but also to build a qualitatively novel relationship between the state and the church, to ensure freedom of religion and to create a society with new (Christian) values. Moreover, despite fifty years of Soviet occupation and religious oppression, the historical memory of the Latvian clergy and believers still contained the experience of the 1920s and the 1930s and another model of state and church relations.10 Leonid (Polyakov), the Metropolitan of the Latvian Orthodox Church in the second half of 1980s, began the activation of LOC life. He got permission to increase the numbers of religious works published in both Latvian and Russian and initiated the renovation of churches and monasteries.11 In 1988 the USSR organised a great celebration for the millennium of the baptism of the Kyivan Rus’. The leaders of the USSR and the Communist Party were actively involved in these events. For instance, government awards were given to several church hierarchs (including Leonid, Metropolitan of Riga and Latvia) during the events in the Kremlin.12 It was an unprecedented event after seventy years of Soviet religious policy. Celebrations also took place in Latvia. On 19 June 1988 Trinity Cathedral in Riga organised events without ‘specific Soviet’ restrictions. In addition to representatives of the traditional Christian denominations, government members also attended the events, starting a new phase in the church–state

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relations in Latvia. In a speech at the beginning of 1989 Metropolitan Leonid called it ‘the time of great hope’.13 Metropolitan Leonid died in September 1990, and Vicar Bishop Alexander (Kudryashov), favoured by local authorities, was appointed to take his place. Metropolitan Alexander supported the implementation of the political reforms in the country, the formation of the Latvian Popular Front and the restoration of national sovereignty.14 Between 1989 and 1991, for the first time in the history of the Communist regime, the USSR organised a series of democratic elections, during which supreme governing bodies were elected in the USSR and the Soviet republics. The faithful and, occasionally, the clergy joined NGOs, especially those in opposition, and actively expressed their position on various political issues. In their public expressions and actions leaders of the LOC, as well as other religious leaders, were relatively neutral. That was understandable as the Orthodox community was to some extent split, with people taking different political positions. However, many representatives of the Orthodox laity, such as the Russian writer Marina Kosteņecka, one of the most visible figures of the Latvian Popular Front which began in the late 1980s and united people of different ethnic and religious backgrounds against the communist regime, strongly positioned herself as a supporter of Latvian independence and Christian values.15

The social and political influence of the Latvian Orthodox Church Shortly before the collapse of Communism the role and popularity of religion and the church in Latvian society began to grow rapidly, which can be explained not only by the relaxation of various prohibitions which ensured freedom of religion, but also by the deep ‘ideological’ crisis in the USSR. Most people no longer believed in the ideals of the Communist Party, while the new political movements offered simplified ideologies and anti-communist positions. An important part of society was confused and looked for stable institutions of power that would not easily change in space and time. At that time religion as an ideology and spiritual bodies as institutions of society were the most appropriate for these emotional needs and were perceived as beacons of stability. However, it is also true that all religious denominations in Latvia showed great wisdom and tolerance in the final stage of the collapse of communism, trying to maintain peace and stability, taking care of believers and their spiritual needs, regardless of people’s political positions, or their political experiences in the past. Since the collapse of communism in 1991, the LOC and its leaders have chosen to stay away from any kind of official political activity in Latvia. Even such important political issues as the status of Latvian non-citizens, discussions on the lustration process, on the enlargement of the European Union and Latvia’s accession to it have been ignored. The LOC has publicly shown its willingness and openness to discuss with governmental and political bodies

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only certain issues related to church life and moral issues: the restitution of church property, religious instruction in schools, the legalisation of homosexual relations and property taxation. The neutral position of the LOC concerning other topical political issues in Latvia and the events of the last twenty years has been evaluated rather negatively by the faithful, politicians and intelligentsia. However, many people still think that the Church should not be involved in politics, as demonstrated by the latest International Social Survey Programme (ISSP) conducted in 2008: 65 per cent of Orthodox respondents agreed that ‘religious leaders should not influence the vote’, 57 per cent agreed that ‘religious leaders should not influence the government’ and 53 per cent agreed that ‘churches and religious organisations currently hold the right amount of power’. However, 32 per cent of Orthodox respondents consider that the Church has too little power and another 12 per cent that it has ‘far too little’ power. The lack of power could be one of the reasons why people do not want it to influence the political powers; the in-depth expert interviews conducted by Jelena Avanesova in 201116 support this argument. Her research showed that the majority of respondents thought that nothing should be changed in current church work and it should not intervene in politics any further, but rather accomplish its spiritual work. One of the interviewed politicians was more specific in his statement: ‘the Church should not intervene in debates and conflicts with secular power’. Many respondents did not mention any cases in which the Church should interfere in political issues. They would want to leave it that way or would evaluate such intervention negatively. At the same time, others would want to see a more proactive Church, but believed that the role of the LOC in society was unimportant, the institution was weak with no strong leader and ‘nobody would grant such a weak institution the right to involve itself in political affairs’. Some respondents believed that the LOC did not support Russian culture and that the clergy was distant from the common people in Latvia and unwelcoming to them. The Church had not initiated many cultural projects, and those it had initiated were very episodic and overall insufficient. The LOC’s influence, albeit minimal, was spreading more among the elderly part of the population. Some of the respondents claimed that representatives of the Church at best simply attended some events as guests. Some respondents answered that the ‘Russian’ associations of the Church were outdated and stereotypical. The LOC did not have to spread or cultivate the Russian language or culture since it was not its duty. Some organisations and politicians would be ready to spread the opinions of the Church and support it in its activities. One of the politicians interviewed referred to the experience of cooperation between the Church and political parties in the 1990s, which did not lead to any positive results because of the more powerful influence of the media on society. This politician did not expect any aggressive activities from the Church, considering that the Church depended on the government, on competing for followers and on publicity in the media (in comparison to, for example, the Old Believers). The

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same opinion was supported by another politician, who also believed that the LOC could and should increase its authority in society by discussing its social deeds more openly. To sum up, the respondents understood the intervention of the LOC into social and political issues in various ways. Some were interested in the Church supporting their ideas, believing that the official church opinion would have weight in society. Others just wanted to know the official stand of the Church, while the last group would want to see the Church engaged only in spiritual or enlightening work. Despite these rational discussions, the majority of respondents still closely unconsciously connected the term ‘Orthodox’ with ‘Russian’ in their answers. According to Metropolitan Alexander, about 20 per cent of all Orthodox believers in Latvia in 2006 were ethnic Latvians.17 Most of these were members of Latvian congregations, where all the services were given in Latvian and Church Slavic. In 2006, there were seven Latvian priests, five of whom were ordained by Metropolitan Alexander. Historically, there have been Latvian congregations in various cities and towns: Riga, Ainaži, Kolka, Salacgrīva and in the Madona region. In 2004, there was a certain wave of Latvians converting to Orthodoxy.18 However, the increase of interest in Orthodoxy among Latvians was not long-lasting, as the Orthodox Church was considered unready to receive the wave of new believers. The biggest problem was the lack of Latvian priests and publications in Latvian. The available statistics on the number of followers suggests slight but steady growth in the overall number of LOC followers since the 1980s. It is difficult, if not impossible, to estimate the exact size of the whole Orthodox congregation in the Latvian SSR. No official statistics existed in the 1990s either, and only with the establishment of the Council of Spiritual Affairs of Republic of Latvia (Reliģisko Lietu Pārvalde) in 2001 can more precise data be found. In 2000 there were 298,000 members in the LOC. In 2001 this number increased to 350,000 and changed only in 2007 rising and stabilising at 370,000 people. However, these figures could be biased, since the LOC itself supplied them in the annual reports to the government.19 The number of parishes – more reliable data – indicates a smooth increase: from 86 parishes in 1988 to 89 in 199220 and 108 in 1995. By 2000, 114 parishes were officially registered rising to 118 in 2005. The latest data show another slight increase: 121 parishes in 2010.21 However, Nadezhda Beliakova has admitted that the tendency of the Orthodox Church to grow in number in the Baltic States has already passed.22 The Slavic (Russian, Ukrainian and Belarusian) population, which is the main stratum and source of increase of Orthodox believers, has been steadily decreasing during the last ten years.23 This figure was confirmed by the provisional results of the 2011 census, which showed the population figure of 26.9 per cent Russians (against 29.6 per cent in 2000) and 3.3 per cent Belarusians (against 4.1 per cent in 2000).24 Looking at the followers of the LOC from another angle – self-affiliation with the Church – it should be taken into account that none of the censuses

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conducted in Latvia since 1935 included a question on religious affiliation. Therefore, Latvian religious self-affiliation is based on data from the 2008 European Social Survey (ESS). According to these data, about half of the Latvian population (51 per cent) belong to a particular religion or denomination. About 36 per cent of these are affiliated with the Roman Catholic Church, another 30 per cent with the Lutheran and 27 per cent with the Eastern Orthodox Church. Out of those who answered that they did not belong to any particular religion, only 6 per cent claimed to have belonged to a particular religion in the past, and only 12 per cent out of these had belonged to the Orthodox Church.25

Religious education, research and theological publication since 1989 After the collapse of the communist regime, the Orthodox Church in the postSoviet territories had to face new challenges and to adapt to the new political and economic situation. In Latvia, all the major denominations established or reformed their own seminaries for religious teaching to educate both clergy and lay people. The Orthodox Seminary in Riga, established in 1851, did not function during the Soviet era. It was evacuated during the First World War to Nizhny Novgorod and resumed its work in 1926.26 It was closed down again in 1936, when an Orthodox Theological Institute under the supervision of the University of Latvia took over its educational role, but it was closed because of the Second World War. Plans to reopen the seminary only appeared again in the 1990s, and in 1994 the first school year started.27 The education provided by the Orthodox seminary is in Russian, partly because of the lack of Latvian Orthodox scholars. Moreover, many of the Orthodox clergy have been educated in Moscow (such as Metropolitan Alexander himself).28 The general problems concerning Orthodox education in the LOC are a lack of interest and motivation in engaging lay people in the education system as well as weak communication between the hierarchy and laity. This problem exists in all the traditional religious denominations in Latvia. Experts on religious education and Orthodox ministers have pointed out that, although their Orthodox clergy had a higher level of education than their colleagues in Russia or Ukraine, in Latvia they were unable to compete in quality of education with Roman Catholic, Lutheran and Baptist clergy and laity,29 because these congregations spent more money and used their access to international funds to educate their clergy and lay people. The LOC level of education has remained quite old-fashioned, hierarchical and provincial. Another possibility to obtain a specialised religious education has been at the Faculty of Theology of Latvia University (first opened in 1920, it resumed its work in the 1980s). In the 1930s, separate faculties existed for the Catholic, Lutheran and Orthodox denominations. Nowadays, the education at the faculty is nondenominational. Moreover, it is not only meant for future clergy, but also for lay people.30 A non-denominational education accredited by the

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state is also offered by the Latvian Christian Academy, established in 1993. It offers educational programmes and organises various religious conferences and projects, some of which are regularly connected with the Orthodox Church.31 Religious lessons at secondary schools also provide information about Orthodoxy. In Latvia, the Christian religion may be taught by appropriately certified teachers. This is an interdenominational subject approved by the Ministry of Education and Science of Latvia. It is not compulsory and may be taught to a group of at least ten persons who have expressed such a wish. Non-traditional religions can be taught in some cases (such as at private and minority schools) as electives. The introduction of compulsory ‘Bible classes’ was discussed in Parliament in 2010, but was not adopted since a majority of politicians did not support the idea.32 Since 2004, either ethics or religion is offered as a compulsory subject to grades 1–3, financed by the state.33 Even when a religious lesson is chosen, it rarely focuses on Orthodoxy. In addition, there are about ten private schools with religious specialisation of various denominations in Latvia.34 The first private Orthodox school opened in 2011.35 The Institute of Bibliography of the Latvian National Library (Latvijas Nacionālās bibliotēkas bibliogrāfijas institūts) keeps track of all religious publications issued in the country since the restoration of independence. The data are stored in the database of the Central Statistical Bureau of Latvia. Unfortunately, theological publications and research connected to religion, translations of related books and of the Bible are counted together, while theological magazines and other periodicals are omitted. Overall, the number of religious publications increased tremendously in 1991 (reaching 1,539,700 copies per year) in comparison to 1990, but by 1995 circulation had declined to around 200,000. Since 2000 the circulation of theological publications in Latvia has stabilised at about 100,000 copies. The assortment of theological books and brochures fluctuated between 21 and 106. Interestingly, the number of publications increased from 1990 until 1998, when a slight decline occurred, but the increase resumed from 2007 to 2011.36 It is not possible to know how many Orthodox theological publications have been issued in Latvia and a figure would not show the true picture, since even after 2003, when the LOC established a special Publishing Department,37 the most important theological literature has been published in Moscow and imported to Latvia. The LOC publishes the newspapers Vinogradnaya loza [Grapevine] in Riga and Pravoslavnaya Zhizn [Orthodox Life] in Daugavpils and Pareizticīgās Baznīcas Kalendārs [Calendar of the Orthodox Church].

The legal status of the LOC, property restitution and relations between the state and the Church, emigration and diaspora issues After the collapse of the USSR, the LOC faced a series of new political and legal realities. At that time Bishop Alexander (Kudryashov) actively tried to

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acquire an autonomous status for the LOC,38 which was necessary for the property-restitution process and the LOC achieving the status of a legal entity. The church leadership realised that the legal status that it had enjoyed before the Second World War (until 14 June 1940) was important in order to get back the church property, as the LOC had been a relatively prosperous religious denomination with a large number of properties in Riga and other major Latvian cities. This motivated the LOC management to act quickly. Although the Latvian government and state institutions inherited many negative forms of management from the Soviet times, they showed great tolerance and respect for the so-called traditional religious denominations. The state tried not to interfere in the internal processes of the traditional denominations, even when they experienced deep and serious internal disagreements and conflicts, which have occurred many times during the last twenty years. The Latvian national policy regarding non-citizens – the Russian-speakers who had arrived in Latvia during the Soviet era – has been criticised extensively in the international and domestic political arenas. The argument that the government, consisting mainly of right-wing Latvian parties, approved of the LOC leaders’ apolitical position on this issue is quite convincing, although numerically most Orthodox believers were non-citizens and ethnic Russians. The LOC hierarchy has successfully played the role of a mediator in the Latvian political elite’s efforts to improve relations with Russia. Patriarch Aleksii II of Moscow and All Russia visited Riga on 27 May 2006, for the first time. Born and raised in Estonia, in 1961–2 he had been the Riga diocesan interim manager covering both Latvian and Estonian territory. During the three days of his stay, he had meetings with the leaders of the country and the hierarchy of the LOC, and held a service in the Orthodox cathedral in Riga.39 Although this was officially a religious event, it was mainly considered as the Latvian government’s attempt to establish friendly relations with Russia in the public and political space via the channels of the LOC. One of the most important central pillars of the contemporary Russian political system is the Russian Orthodox Church, and the LOC showed efforts to help settle the two countries’ relations. Thus, the Russian Patriarch’s visit had a political character, easing the tensions between the two countries and leaving the Church’s internal issues in the background. The President and the Prime Minister of Latvia, the Speaker of Parliament and members of the government expressed their honour and loyalty, and showed their respect, participating in religious services celebrated by the Patriarch. The President of Latvia Vaira Vīķe-Freiberga invited Patriarch Aleksii II to an official state meeting held at the President’s Palace in Riga, during which he was awarded the Medal of Three Stars.40 The state implemented and supported the restitution of the property of religious denominations and, step by step, although not very consistently, a new model of church–state relations was formed based on political dialogue. On 12 May 1992 the law ‘On Returning the Property to Religious Organisations’ was adopted.41 This action of the Latvian state and the political neutrality

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of the LOC provided the LOC and its management with long-term stability. Thereafter, much of the recovered property, especially in the centre of Riga, was quickly, but not very successfully sold, causing a series of negative reactions, especially in the Latvian Russian-language media. On 11 August 1992 the Synod of the Patriarchate of Moscow discussed the restoration of the LOC’s autonomy, and on 22 December of the same year, Patriarch Aleksii II restored the autonomy which had been granted by Patriarch Tikon on 15 June 1920 while maintaining canonical ties with the Moscow Patriarchate. The LOC received full autonomy in the administrative and social spheres, as well as regarding public and education matters.42 The LOC organised a Synod, held in Riga on 29 December 1992, and adopted new statutes. On the following day, the statues were promptly registered at the Ministry of Justice.43 From a legal perspective, this was an unprecedented event in Latvia. Moreover, no debate took place about the Church’s internal structures, its legal status or canonical subordination either in other churches of the Moscow Patriarchate, nor in national public institutions. Periodically theologians, lawyers and experts in church–state relations raise this issue in public or intellectual debates, but no impact has been seen, partly thanks to other urgent political or economic issues appearing on the political stage in Latvia. The speed of the church hierarchy is understandable when analysed in a broader regional context and when compared to the situation and cleavage of the Estonian Orthodox Church. Over the last twenty years, Metropolitan Alexander, who has a very energetic and authoritative personality, has been able to maintain good relations with the state and to successfully isolate the internal opposition, keeping control in his hands.44 He became archbishop in 1995, and in 2002 metropolitan. Most of the Orthodox clergy have been neither locals nor Latvians, and they have been rather apolitical. The LOC has had very few clergy with leadership skills, and those who have had them have lasted for a relatively short time. The LOC and its structures have always obeyed their shepherd. The secular Russian-speaking population, the laity distanced from the Church and the defrocked clergy have been more critical. The LOC does not have any diaspora congregations, which theoretically might have been in opposition to its performance. They have practically never existed, even after the Second World War, when a certain percentage of Orthodox laity and clergy emigrated from Latvian territory including Bishop Jānis (Garklāvs), appointed during the war, and Metropolitan Augustīns (Pētersons). Bishop Jānis (Garklāvs) and a few others emigrated to the United States and Great Britain through German displaced persons camps, while Metropolitan Augustīns (Pētersons) remained in Germany, near Stuttgart. In 1947 he established the ‘Latvian Orthodox Church in Exile’ under canonical authority of the Patriarch of Constantinople. However, he was seriously ill and died in 1955.45 The ‘Latvian Orthodox Church in Exile’ has had no space of its own, no money and no clergy, and the majority of Orthodox Latvians were either secularised or integrated into the Orthodox

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communities of the host countries. The last head of the ‘Latvian Orthodox Church in Exile’ was the Latvian priest, Protopresbyter Alexander Cherney (1914–2008), who lived in London and was treated with some respect by the hierarchy of the LOC.46 The Church finished its ministry in the late 1980s, but Cherney symbolically kept the title of Dean of the Latvian Orthodox Church Abroad and Protopresbyter of the Ecumenical Throne of Constantinople.47 Today the ‘Latvian Orthodox Church in Exile’ no longer exists as an institution, while its faithful, who are very small in number, have joined other national Orthodox communities. During the past twenty years the population of Latvia has been rapidly decreasing through various demographic processes. The Central Statistical Office annually collects and publishes the latest available information on changes in the composition of the population. For example, in 2010, 10,700 people left Latvia hoping to find better living and working conditions abroad.48 Among these migrants were not only Latvians, but also Russian-speaking residents of Latvia, who mostly belonged to the Orthodox denomination. While the Latvian Evangelical Lutheran Church and the Roman Catholic Church have succeeded in establishing exile structures in the largest immigration centres in Ireland, and have reactivated the old post-war Lutheran and Catholic diaspora churches in countries including Germany, Great Britain, Sweden and the USA, the LOC has not covered this niche of pastoral ministry. Its believers are left with a choice either to integrate into the host country’s Orthodox communities, convert or secularise. In December 2008, the Parliament of Latvia adopted a new law on the status of the LOC,49 ‘The Law on the Latvian Orthodox Church’, replacing a number of outdated laws and regulations. In commenting on this law, Latvian lawyer Aleksey Ponamarev mentioned that it was part of lengthy legal process intended to strengthen the role of so-called ‘traditional denominations’ in Latvia. It was adopted by the Parliament of Latvia without any serious discussions and by general assent.50 The LOC received exclusive rights to the name ‘Latvian Orthodox Church’,51 and the right not to have its decisions concerning canon law reviewed judicially. Most importantly, the rights of the Metropolitan were broadened and strengthened, which came into conflict with the Church’s internal legislation and complicated the internal processes of the Church.52 According to Ponamarev, the law demonstrates not only the loyalty of the Latvian government and political authorities, but even their direct support for the hierarchy of the LOC.53 It was probably an act of political gratitude by the Latvian political parties in government to the leaders of the LOC for their support. Between 2004 and 2009 many Latvian clergy and lay people, representing various religious denominations, were active members of the very controversial Latvian political party Latvijas Pirmā Partija [Latvian First Party], which at that time formed the Latvian government.54 Such a political lobby was used by many religious denominations and their hierarchs to strengthen their political or economic positions. The results of this political lobbying so far has affected only the prestige of the

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traditional religious denominations and their leaders, and increased secularism in Latvia.

Conclusion Over the past twenty years, the LOC, as has the whole of Latvian society, has gone through a complex transformation and transition process. However, there has not yet been enough time to escape the Soviet heritage and identity. The LOC has not been a special exception among all the traditional denominations, which have struggled with disbelief, a lack of vision, feeble internal structures, the inability to find new forms of ministry, authoritarianism and intolerance. The LOC has stayed under the jurisdiction of the Moscow Patriarchate while regaining its autonomy. It has established and strengthened its ecclesial structure and its state relations, successfully recovered its property, repaired many church and parish buildings and laid the foundations of religious education and a religious press in Latvia. Taking into account its historical background, the demographic situation and large-scale emigration, as well as the weakness of its ecclesial institutions, the LOC is obviously in a much more complex situation than the other traditional denominations in Latvia, and has limited future growth opportunities. The LOC has invested more time, effort and money in its structures, buildings and the hierarchy than in education, schools and the laity. The situation makes the authors quite cautious and even pessimistic about predicting the coming years for the LOC. However, it must be stressed that it will only be possible to talk about a normal development of the LOC in the future when the legacy of the Soviet ideology will have passed and new generations will have replaced the old ones.

Appendix 1

Religious leaders

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Leonid (Polakov) (1913–90), in office 1966–90 Alexander (Kudryashov) (1939–), in office 1990–.

2

Biography

Title: Metropolitan of Riga and All Latvia. Alexander (Kudryashov) was born on 3 October 1939 in the Preili district of Latvia (Latvian SSR) into an Old Believers family. In 1964 he graduated from the faculty of history and philology at Daugavpils Pedagogical University and started to work as a teacher of the Russian language and literature. He entered the Moscow Theological Seminary and graduated in 1989 in absentia. He was ordained deacon and served in the Ilyinsky Church of Ust-Sini of

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the Perm diocese. In 1983 he returned to Latvia and served in the Riga and Valmiera district. He became an editor of the Orthodox calendar and prayer book in both the Russian and Latvian languages. In 1989 he was tonsured as a monk and was consecrated as Bishop of Daugavpils, Riga diocese. In 1990 he became Bishop of Riga and in 2002 Metropolitan of Riga and all Latvia. 3

Theological publications

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Gazeta Vinogradnaya loza [Grapevine]55 Gazeta Pravoslavnaya Zhizn [Orthodox Life]56 Pareizticīgās Baznīcas Kalendārs [Calendar of the Orthodox Church].

4

Congregations

Structure of the Church: 1 metropolitanate, 1 bishopric (Daugavpils), 121 parishes.57 Number of clergy and church buildings: 88 clergy,58 121 churches and buildings,59 200 nuns,60 10 monks and 25 other members of staff.61 5

Population62

According to the 2011 census data about 2.07 million people live in Latvia. Latvians made up about 62 per cent of the population, while Russians numbered 27 per cent, and inhabitants of other ethnic origin, including Belarusians, Ukrainians and Poles, 11 per cent.63 The question concerning religious affiliation has been omitted from Latvian censuses since 1935. However, according to the latest available studies, for example a European Social Study (ESS) conducted in 2008, about 51 per cent of respondents acknowledged their membership of a particular denomination. About 36 per cent of those were affiliated with the Roman Catholic Church, 30 per cent with Protestant churches and 27 per cent with Eastern Orthodox. Followers of other religions numbered about 6 per cent.64 The results of an ISSP conducted in the same year showed similar results: 61 per cent admitted that they belong to some particular religion/confession, with the Roman Catholic Church, the Lutheran Church and Christian Orthodoxy each having about 32 per cent of these.65

Notes 1 Aleksandr Gavrilin and Baiba Pazane, ‘The Orthodox Church in the Twentieth Century in the Baltic States: Latvia, Lithuania and Estonia’, in The Orthodox Church in Eastern Europe in the Twentieth Century, Christine Chaillot (ed.), Oxford and Berne: Peter Lang, 2011, p. 269. 2 Ibid., p. 272. 3 Inese Runce, ‘Valsts un Baznīcas attiecības Latvijā: 1906–1940’ [State and Church Relations in Latvia: 1906–1940], unpublished PhD dissertation, Riga, 2008, p. 165. 4 Gavrilin and Pazane, ‘The Orthodox Church in the Twentieth Century’, p. 274.

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5 Kārlis Ulmanis, prime minister of Latvia and one of the most popular politicians in the interwar period, organised a coup and destroyed the parliamentarian system of Latvia. 6 Mihail Odincov, Veroispovednie Reformy v Sovetskom Soyuze i v Rossii. 1985– 1997gg. [Religious Reforms in the USSR and Russia. 1985–1997], Moscow: Rossiyskoye obyedineniye issledovateley religii [Russian association of researchers of religion], 2010, p. 53. 7 Nadezhda Beliakova, ‘Pravoslavnaya cerkov’ v obshchestvenno-politicheskoy zhizni pribaltiyskikh gosudarstv’ [The Orthodox Church in social and political life of the Baltic countries], in Pravoslavnaya cerkov’ pri novom patriarkhe [The Orthodox Church under a new Patriarch], Aleksey Malashenko and Sergey Filatova (eds), Moscow: Carnegie Centre and ROSSPEN, 2012, p. 342. 8 Archbishop Alexander of Riga and All Latvia (ed.), Latvijas Pareizticīgā Baznīca: 1988–2008 [The Latvian Orthodox Church 1988–2008], Riga: Synod of the Latvian Orthodox Church, 2009, p. 35. 9 Odincov, Veroispovednie Reformy, p. 39. 10 Latvia was occupied by the Soviet Union from 14 June 1940 to 1 July 1941 and from 9 May 1945 to 21 August 1991. In Baltic historiography this period is called ‘fifty years of Soviet occupation’. 11 Alexander of Riga (ed.), Latvijas Pareizticigo Baznica, p. 36. 12 Odincov, Veroispovednie Reformy, p. 49. 13 Alexander of Riga (ed.), Latvijas Pareizticigo Baznica, p. 38. 14 Beliakova, ‘Pravoslavnaya cerkov’, p. 352. 15 Ibid. 16 The interviews were conducted in February–March 2011 as a part of Jelena Avanesova, ‘The Role of the Orthodox Church in the Preservation of the Russian Identity in Baltic Countries during the Period 1991–2011’, unpublished MA thesis, University of Latvia, Riga, 2011. About twenty persons were interviewed: Russian or Russian minority orientated politicians, teachers of Russian language and literature and the chair of Russian and Orthodox unions or organisations. The respondents (experts) were chosen in such a way to represent the opinions of several groups of the Russian-speaking population in Latvia and enable the author to identify the role of the Orthodox Church in their identity. All respondents’ answers are treated here as confidential and are presented anonymously. 17 Olga Kiryanova, ‘Pravoslavie v Latvii imeet glubokie korny’ [Orthodoxy in Latvia has deep roots], pravoslavie.ru and http://www.pravoslavie.ru/guest/4651.htm (accessed 15 February 2011). 18 Ibid. 19 The Ministry of Justice, Department for Religious Affairs, annual reports on religious affairs in 2002, 2005 and 2009. 20 Based on information prepared by the Ministry of Justice in 1992 published in Nikandrs Gills, Reliģija. Vēsture. Dzīve. Releģiska dzīve Latvijā [Religion, History, Life. Religious Life in Latvia], Riga: Rota, 1993, pp. 6–11. 21 The Central Statistical Bureau of Latvia, data on the number of registered religious organisations by denomination 1980–2010. 22 Beliakova, ‘Pravoslavnaya cerkov’, p. 387. 23 The Central Statistical Bureau of Latvia, data on number of residents of Latvia by nationality. 24 Ibid. 25 Avanesova, ‘The Role of the Orthodox Church’, p. 55. 26 The Archbishop of Riga and All Latvia, ‘Istoriya Rizhskoi Duhovnoi seminarii’ [History of Riga Seminary], 1995, http://pravoslavie.lv/index.php?newid=41&id=43 (accessed 5 April 2011).

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27 ‘Rizhskaya dukhovnaya seminariya’ [Riga Orthodox Seminary], Otkrytaya pravoslavnaya enciklopediya [Open Orthodox Encyclopaedia], 2009, http://drevo-info. ru/articles/3685.html (accessed 5 May 2011). 28 Olga Kiryanova, ‘Pravoslavie v Latvii imeet glubokie korni’ [Orthodoxy has deep roots in Latvia], 2006, http://www.pravoslavie.ru/guest/4651.htm (accessed 15 February 2011). 29 Beliakova, ‘Pravoslavnaya cerkov’, p. 390. 30 See: http://www.lu.lv/gribustudet/teologija (accessed 15 February 2011). 31 Latvijas Kristīgā Akadēmija, http://www.kra.lv/Latviski/publikacijas.htm (accessed 25 May 2011). The rector of the academy is Anna Skaidrīte Gūtmane, who converted to Orthodoxy in 2004. Sergejs Bregeda, ‘Anna Skaidrite Gūtmane: Bez Cerkvi zhizn bessmyslenna’ [Anna Skaidrite Gutmane: Life is useless without the Church], Vinogradnaya loza [Grapevine], 2010, 10 (148). 32 ‘Saeima noraida priekšlikumu par Bībeles mācības ieviešanu skolās’ [Saeima Rejects the Proposal on Bible lessons in schools], LETA, 2011, http://www.izglitiba-kultura.lv/zinas/saeima-noraida-priekslikumu-par-bibeles-macibas-ieviesanuskolas (accessed 25 May 2011). 33 ‘Legal status of religions’, EUREL, 2010, http://www.eurel.info/EN/index. php?rubrique=655&pais=59 (accessed 3 May 2011). 34 Ibid. 35 ‘Priglashaem v pravoslavnuyu shkolu’ [Welcome to the Orthodox school], http:// pareizticiba.lv/index.php?newid=3823 (accessed 11 May 2011). 36 The Central Statistical Bureau of Latvia, data on the production of books and brochures by field of literature, statistics for the period 1990–2011. 37 Beliakova, ‘Pravoslavnaya cerkov’, p. 389. 38 Ibid., p. 353. 39 Latvijas Pareizticīgas Baznīcas Kalendārs 2007.gadam [Latvian Orthodox Church Calendar for 2007], Rīga: Synod of the Latvian Orthodox Church, 2006, p. 38. 40 Latvian Orthodox Church, ‘Viņa Svētības Svētīgākā Maskavas un visas Krievijas Patriarha Aleksija II vizīte Latvijā (pirmā diena)’ [The visit of the Holy Patriarch of Moscow and all Rus’ Aleksii II to Latvia (the first day)], 27 May 2006, available at: http://www.pravoslavie.lv/index.php?newid=203&id=6&lang=LV (accessed 15 February 2011). 41 Gavrilin and Pazane, ‘The Orthodox Church in the Twentieth Century’, p. 291. 42 Ibid., p. 290. 43 Ibid. 44 Beliakova, ‘Pravoslavnaya cerkov’, p. 368. 45 Aleksandr V. Gavrilin, ‘Sovremennoe polozhenie Pravoslavnykh Cerkvey Latvii i Estonii’ [The Contemporary Situation of the Orthodox Churches in Latvia and Estonia], Le Messager. Vestnik Russkogo Khristianskogo Dvizhenie [Le Messager. Bulletin of the Russian Christian Movement], 2001, 182, p. 296. 46 Ibid. 47 Archdiocese of Thyateira and Great Britain, Protopresbyter Alexander Cherney, 23 April 2008, available at http://www.thyateira.org.uk/index.php?option=com_co ntent&task=view&id=306&Itemid=151 (accessed 15 February 2011). 48 Central Statistical Bureau of Latvia, data on emigration. 49 Latvijas Pareizticīgās Baznīcas likums [The law on the Orthodox Church], adopted by Parliament and the President in 2008. 50 Aleksey Ponamarev, ‘Zakon Latviyskoy Respubliki o Latviyskoy Pravoslavnoy Tserkvi’ [The Law of the Republic of Latvia on the Orthodox Church], 12 January 2009, available at http://www.bogoslov.ru/text/373839.html (accessed 15 February 2011). 51 Ibid.

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52 One of the most controversial issues of this law was the Metropolitan’s full and extraordinary rights to replace and suspend the priests and manage the property of the LOC. 53 Ibid. 54 Latvijas Pirmā Partija [Latvian First Party] during its lifetime faced many corruption scandals and was used as an instrument of political and economical interest of the Latvian oligarch Ainars Šlesers. This political party was liquidated on 1 December 2011. 55 Newspaper published in Riga. 56 Newspaper published in Daugavpils. 57 Data from the Latvian Central Statistical Bureau. For more information see http:// www.csb.gov.lv/ (accessed 15 February 2011). 58 This number is from the last published (2009) annual report of the Ministry of Justice on Religious Organisations. For more information, see http://www.tm.gov. lv/lv/ministrija/imateriali/parskati/2009.html (accessed 15 February 2011). 59 The Latvian Central Statistical Bureau. 60 This number is from the website of the Latvian Orthodox Church at http://www. pareizticiba.lv/index.php?newid=469&id=98 (accessed 15 February 2011). 61 This number is from the website of Jekabpils Holy Spirit Monastery at http://www. klosteris.lv/ (accessed 15 February 2011). 62 Data from the 2011 census. 63 The Latvian Central Statistical Bureau, Census 2011. 64 Data from the 2008 ESS survey. 65 Data from the 2008 ISSP Religion III survey.

20 Orthodox churches in Abkhazia, South Ossetia and Transnistria Kimitaka Matsuzato

The collapse of the Soviet Union generated four states, Abkhazia, South Ossetia, Transnistria (Pridnestr) and Nagorno-Karabakh, which have been de facto independent for almost twenty years, but have not been recognised by the international community.1 A lesser-known fact is that the issue of unrecognised states has a religious aspect, because these states are located between the jurisdictions of local (pomestnye) Orthodox churches. Abkhazia and South Ossetia are located between the jurisdictions of the Russian Orthodox Church (ROC) and the Georgian Orthodox Church (GOC). The field of competition between the ROC and the Romanian Orthodox Church (RomOC) has been the right bank of the Dniestr River, or Bessarabia, rather than the left bank, or Transnistria. Nevertheless, competition between the two churches in Bessarabia cannot but affect the religious situation in Transnistria. Because of their locations, all of the Orthodox congregations in these regions lost canonical legitimacy after the civil wars at the beginning of the 1990s, and pursued differing strategies to restore it. This struggle for canonicity has involved important issues in Orthodox politics, such as the requirements for an Orthodox church’s autocephaly (independence) and the possibility of changing the canonical borders between churches. Moreover, this struggle has revealed the transnational character of Orthodox politics. In contrast to Islam and Catholicism, Orthodoxy has been understood as a Caesarpapist religion serving the secular state to which the church belongs, although church historians have repeatedly criticised this view.2 Indeed, the logic of secular and religious politics concerning unrecognised states has been contradictory. For example, after the August 2008 war, the Russian secular government recognised South Ossetia and Abkhazia as independent states; however, the ROC repeated its official view that the Orthodox congregations of these territories canonically belonged to the GOC’s jurisdiction, thus disappointing Orthodox leaders of these territories, as well as the Russian Foreign Ministry. The official Orthodox world is composed of fifteen churches in communion, which divide the world into their jurisdictions (canonical territories) and share the rule of mutual nonintervention, according to which they should never assist schismatics within other Orthodox churches. If the ROC incorporates

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the Orthodox congregations in Abkhazia and South Ossetia into its jurisdiction, it will lose the legitimacy to criticise what it calls ‘violations of canonical law’ by the Kyiv Patriarchate in Ukraine (an unrecognised, though large, church that separated from the ROC in 1991–2), the RomOC in Moldova and the Ecumenical Patriarchate (EP) in Estonia. Moreover, if the ROC incorporates the Abkhazian and South Ossetian congregations, the GOC might possibly take revenge on the ROC by recognising the Kyiv Patriarchate. This would imply the end of the ROC as an imperial church. Thus, analyses of religious politics in and around South Ossetia, Abkhazia and Transnistria are not marginal issues, but have general significance in Orthodoxy studies.

Transnistria – canonisation Among the three cases of conflict examined in this chapter, Transnistria enjoyed the most favourable conditions for normalisation because the Transnistrian conflict unfolded within the same ROC and, moreover, within the Chişinău-Moldovan Metropolitanate of the ROC. In 1813, following Russia’s acquisition of Bessarabia as a result of the Bucharest Treaty (1812), the ROC Synod set up the Chişinău-Hotin diocese in the new province of Bessarabia. The EP, which spiritually guided Bessarabia before 1812, protested against this decision as uncanonical. The RomOC, considering itself the legitimate heir to the romanophone territory of the EP, has regarded Bessarabia as its irredenta. This should not concern the left bank of the Dniestr River (Transnistria), the former Tiraspol county (uezd), which belonged to the jurisdiction of the Kherson bishopric of the ROC. Nevertheless, when the Ribbentrop–Molotov Secret Protocol (1939) created the Moldovan SSR, both banks were integrated into the single bishopric of Chişinău. After Romania’s rule during the Second World War, the ChişinăuMoldovan bishopric re-established its jurisdiction in 1944 over Moldova. In 1988, the ROC decided to raise the status of the Chişinău-Moldovan bishopric to the Chişinău-Moldovan Metropolitanate to curb its pro-Romanian tendencies. Moldovan nationalists (pan-Romanists) regarded the new Metropolitan, Serapion (Fadeev), as being pro-Moscow. Assaulted by the press on a daily basis, Serapion was forced in 1989 to resign, and was replaced by Vladimir (Cantarean), who continues to lead the Metropolitanate to this day. The other negative side to Vladimir’s ‘diplomatic skill’ has been his reluctance to play a peacemaking role in the Transnistrian conflict. Rather, ROC priests serving on the left bank have been predominantly pro-Moldovan (pan-Romanian) and even refused to conduct funerals for ‘separatist’ victims (volunteers and Cossacks), accusing them of being bandits. The bereaved had to bring the bodies to Odessa for their funerals. Offended by this attitude, some Transnistrian Christians petitioned the Moscow Patriarch Aleksii II to set up an independent Transnistrian diocese directly subordinated to him (bypassing the Chişinău-Moldovan Metropolitanate).3 Despite these unpleasant memories, when the Moscow Patriarchate introduced a vicariate

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in Transnistria in 1995, the Transnistrian congregation agreed to subordinate it to the Chişinău-Moldovan Metropolitanate. In 1998, this vicariate developed into a full-fledged bishopric. Thus, the Transnistrian Orthodox congregation today enjoys canonical status in the unrecognised state of Transnistria. This is an invaluable political resource for Transnistria.

Abkhazia – obedience Transnistria’s strategy, which could be termed ‘canonisation’, barely seems applicable to Abkhazia and South Ossetia, where local clerics are not ready to accept the GOC’s supervision at all, but regard Ilia II, the Georgian Catholicos-Patriarch, as a major provocateur of Georgian nationalism and military aggression. Yet, as mentioned before, the ROC does not intend to accept the Abkhazian and South Ossetian congregations, which have suffered for two decades as a result of their lack of canonical status. The territory of present-day Georgia, in which at least two of the Apostles, Andrew and Simon the Zealot, preached the Gospel, is one of the earliest Christianised territories in the world. Though academic historiography is sceptical, it is thought that the Mtskheta diocese in Eastern Georgia became autocephalous from the Patriarchate of Antioch as early as the fifth century. In feudal Georgia, two catholicoi coexisted, in Mtskheta and Pitsunda (the latter including Abkhazia, Mingrelia and Imeretia in its jurisdiction); however, the latter met its demise in 1795 in the course of the general decline of Christianity in the Caucasus. When the Russian Empire incorporated the Kartli-Kakheti Princedom (Eastern Georgia) in 1801, Emperor Paul I established the principle of entrusting ‘missionaries from Georgia’ with the re-Christianisation of the Caucasus, rather than missionaries from Russia, as had been the practice until the eighteenth century.4 Yet the Russian government could not for a decade determine how to deal with Georgian Orthodoxy, which was in a state of chaos after centuries of assaults by the Persians and Ottomans.5 In 1808, the ROC dispatched Archbishop Varlaam, a descendant of Prince Eristos’s family of Georgia but then serving at the ROC Synod, to Tiflis. After three years of research, Varlaam submitted a comprehensive plan to reform the Georgian Church including abandoning the traditional title of catholicos and naming the highest hierarch of the Georgian Church the ‘Metropolitan of Mtskheta and Kartli and the exarch of Georgia’, similar to the manner in which the ROC’s representatives in Moldavia and Wallachia were titled.6 The ROC Synod appointed Varlaam as the first Georgian exarch, but he stayed in this position for only three years and all the following exarchs were ethnic Russians.7 After the February 1917 Revolution, the Georgian clergy unilaterally declared the restoration of the autocephaly that it had enjoyed until 1811. In May 1917, a delegation of the Georgian Church visited Abkhazia and attempted to persuade the Abkhazian clergy to subordinate themselves to the renewed Georgian Church. The Abkhazian clergy rejected this proposal

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and at the end of the same month held a convention of clerics and laymen (tserkovno-narodnoe sobranie), which declared the autocephaly of the Abkhazian Church. The ROC Synod had persuaded the Abkhazians not to try to change the ROC Sukhum diocese’s ecclesial status until the meeting of the Local Council of the Orthodox Russian Church scheduled to be held in August 1917. However, this council did not reach any conclusions regarding the Abkhazian problem, which was solved in a coercive way, by what the Abkhazians call the ‘Menshevik occupation of Abkhazia’. The Sukhum diocese of the ROC was replaced by the Tskhumo-Abkhazian diocese of the GOC.8 The ROC did not recognise the GOC’s canonicity, and pro-Russian parishes continued to exist in Abkhazia. In 1943, however, to mobilise the Georgians to war against Germany, Stalin forced the ROC to recognise the GOC and Abkhazia’s subordination to the GOC. During almost the whole period of this subordination (1943–92), the GOC ordained no Abkhazian priests to serve the Abkhazians.9 When perestroika began, the Catholicos-Patriarch of the GOC, Ilia II, started negotiations with the EP, which in 1990 recognised that the GOC had been continually autocephalous since the fifth century, thus revoking the ROC’s incorporation of the GOC in 1811 as an uncanonical act. During this period, religious contradictions between the Georgians and Abkhazians intensified as the GOC began to use the Tskhumo-Abkhazian diocese as a bastion of Georgianism in Abkhazia. At the same time, Ilia II needed to show goodwill to the Abkhazians and ordained Vissarion Apliaa as the first ethnic Abkhazian deacon in 1989 and, a year later, as priest. Vissarion was then already over forty years old. He is a unique person; in his youth, he was an outlaw and was even jailed twice. During the Abkhazian War, the Abkhazian Church split. Priests who were subordinated to the GOC escaped from Abkhazia together with the Georgian troops, and this GOC bishopric, exiled in Tbilisi, continued to claim jurisdiction over Abkhazia until 2010. Four Abkhazian and Slavic priests, who had remained in Abkhazia, elected Vissarion as their ‘elder’, and in 1998 registered the ‘Sukhum-Abkhazian bishopric’ with the Ministry of Justice of Abkhazia. Vissarion pursued a strategy of ‘obedience’, avoiding causing problems in the official Orthodox world. Yet this also meant that Vissarion did not pursue recognition, except for asking the ROC for help. Various strategic ideas, for example, to ask the EP to mediate between the GOC and the Abkhazian Church, were left untried. Until 2009, Abkhazian Orthodox leaders kept their relations with the GOC undetermined, while the GOC did not deprive Vissarion of his holy orders for his separatist activities, and he therefore, at least formally, continues to be a Georgian priest. Vissarion’s strategy of ‘obedience’ has helped the Abkhazian Church, in contrast to the South Ossetian Church, to preserve more or less normal relations with both the ROC and the GOC, although this has also resulted in its uncertain canonical status without even a self-proclaimed bishop.

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South Ossetia – defiance If the Georgian Church (both the ROC’s exarchate during the tsarist period and the GOC during the Soviet period) contributed to the Abkhazians’ spiritual life to some extent, there was no church in the South Ossetian Autonomous Oblast in the Georgian SSR. The GOC’s neglect of the Ossetians provides a powerful reason for South Ossetian clerics to argue that the GOC has no right to claim jurisdiction over South Ossetia. In contrast to the cautious Vissarion in Abkhazia, the South Ossetian Orthodox revival was initiated by Aleksandr Pukhate, born in 1973, who finished his higher education at the South Ossetian Pedagogic Institute after the civil war. Whereas Vissarion endeavoured to minimise conflict with the official Orthodox world, the enthusiastic Pukhate pursued a policy, first of all, gaining the appearance of a fully fledged church, which is capable of administering the sacraments and the independent ordination of priests. As a result, the South Ossetian Orthodox community broke out of the confines of official Orthodoxy and roamed in quest of a patron who was ready to give it the appearance of canonical status. The South Ossetians’ strategy could be termed as one of ‘defiance’. Immediately after the ROC refused to accept the South Ossetian congregation into its hierarchy in 1992, it became a component of the Russian Orthodox Church Abroad (ROCA), gaining the status of deanery (blagochinie), while Pukhate was ordained as monk with the name of Georgi. In 2001, the ROCA split around the issue of rapprochement with the ROC. This split orphaned the South Ossetian congregation, which in turn in 2003 changed affiliation from the ROCA to the Holy Synod in Resistance, one of the Greek Old Calendarist factions.10 After accepting the South Ossetian Church, the Holy Synod terminated its communion (relations) with the ROCA in 2005, criticising the ROCA’s appeasement towards ‘ecumenism’ (the ROC). The Holy Synod helped the South Ossetian Orthodox leaders to register under the ‘Alan diocese’, a prestigious bishopric in the medieval Caucasus. The Holy Synod consecrated Pukhate as ‘Bishop of Alania’ when he was a mere thirty-two years old. But his health was the South Ossetian Church’s weakest point. Undergoing medical operations, he repeatedly asked the Holy Synod in Resistance to release him from his position as bishop. In May 2010, the Holy Synod allowed Georgi to leave his post for one year.11 In May 2011, when this year had passed, the Holy Synod removed him completely.12 The South Ossetian Church was then directly guided by the director of foreign missions for the Holy Synod, Bishop Ambrose of Methone.

The young reformers and Abkhazia’s shift to ‘defiance’ Despite their painful strategy of ‘obedience’, Abkhazian clerics enjoyed neither compassion nor assistance from the official Orthodox world. Each ordaination of a priest requires tremendous tact and diplomacy, often uselessly expended, to evade the GOC’s accusations, with nervous tensions rising in the

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process. The reopening in 1994 of the New Athos Monastery, closed during the Soviet era, had tremendous significance for the restoration of Orthodoxy in Abkhazia. Boys becoming acquainted with Christianity at this monastery during the 1990s continued their education in Sergiyev-Posad, Thessalonica and other foreign Orthodox centres around the world, and were ordained by the ROC to return to serve their Abkhazian people. In the eyes of these youths educated abroad, Vissarion, a ‘mere priest’ (married and unable to become a bishop), appears passive, somehow ridiculous and barely conducive to the Abkhazian Church becoming recognised. As early as 2002 the beginning of a systematic disagreement between the old and young generations of Abkhazian clerics was seen. The Maikop bishop of the ROC intermediated, and a twoheaded structure of the Eparchial Council took shape in 2005: Vissarion and the abbot of the New Athos Monastery, Andrei Ampar, became co-chairs of the council, a compromise that did not, however, soften the disagreement among the clerics. To avoid irreversible confrontation, in 2007 the young reformers agreed to abolish the two-headed structure. Fr Andrei submitted a letter of repentance to Patriarch Aleksii II, and his status was downgraded from abbot to manager (ekonom) of the New Athos Monarchy. The leader of the young reformers, Hieromonk Dorofei Dbar, declined to sign a similar letter, but decided to leave Abkhazia for Thessalonica ‘to complete his doctoral dissertation’. After the departure of Dorofei and other young reformers, the religious school was closed and religious newspapers and publications ceased; the deep apathy of the Abkhazian Church would continue until 2011. Although the ROC prohibited Dorofei from preaching and administering the sacraments, the Greek Orthodox Church did not understand why the ROC had the authority to suspend the holy obligations of a monk belonging to the canonical territory of the GOC. Dorofei did not suffer any restrictions on his activities in Greece and established good relations with the EP, which ordained him as archimandrite, a status whereby one can be consecrated as bishop, which Abkhazia desperately needed. After overcoming the rivalry within the Abkhazian Church, Vissarion appeared to take the initiative of guiding it from a strategy of ‘obedience’ to one of ‘defiance’. On 15 September 2009, an eparchial meeting of the Sukhum-Abkhazian diocese unanimously adopted a resolution that terminated its existence as part of the GOC and instead declared the creation of the ‘Pitsunda-Sukhum bishopric of the Abkhazian Orthodox Church’. It asked the local Orthodox churches for help in resuming the Abkhazian autocephaly that had existed from the eighth century until 1795.13 However, this self-proclaimed ‘Pitsunda-Sukhum bishopric’ did nothing to deliver the resolution to Orthodox churches abroad. After the collapse of two federalist states, the USSR and Yugoslavia, the issue of Orthodox Church secession or transfer has often been contested. How should the split of the Ukrainian Church into two groups be dealt with when one continues to obey the ROC while the other composes the Kyiv Patriarchate? To which should the Moldovan Church belong, the ROC or

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the RomOC? To which should the Estonian Church belong, the ROC or the EP? How should the Abkhazian and South Ossetian Orthodox congregations be considered? What about the Montenegrin and Macedonian churches desiring to become autocephalous from the Serbian Orthodox Church? In July 2008, Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew visited Ukraine to celebrate the 1,020th anniversary of the baptism of Kyivan Rus’. President Viktor Yushchenko asked Bartholomew to help Ukraine create a single Orthodox Church. Considering the ROC’s position, Bartholomew did not make any concrete promises. In return, the ROC agreed that the EP would convene a pan-Orthodox council. The pan-Orthodox council was scheduled to be held in 2011, but was again postponed until the following years.14 One of the most serious issues to be addressed at this council will be whether to allow church secession even without the blessing of the mother church if the secessionist church satisfies certain objective requirements.15 The ROC and GOC will no doubt furiously resist this new standard, while my observation is that the EP wishes to adopt it to curtail the ROC’s influence. However, the most interested parties, such as the Kyiv Patriarchate and the Abkhazian and South Ossetian Orthodox leaders, will not be invited to the council, so it is improbable that the council will make the mother church’s blessing unnecessary for church secession. Sacred places cannot be left empty. In February 2011, the Abkhazian government decided to transfer thirty-two churches and chapels to the eternal use of the Abkhazian Orthodox Church.16 The young clerics of Abkhazia argue that this decision was made to benefit the business plan of Vissarion and the ROC to found an enterprise, ‘Tourist-Pilgrimage Complex’ of Abkhazia.17 Still unaware of the intrigue around his own monastery, Fr Andrei asked Vissarion to release him from the humiliating position of its ‘manager’. Vissarion chose Fr Efrem Vinogradov, serving in the Adler area of Russia, neighbouring Abkhazia, as the new abbot. Vissarion and Fr Efrem visited Patriarch Kirill, who gave Efrem a crosier (symbolising the abbot’s power) and instructed him to overcome various deviations of the New Athos Monastery. Meanwhile, Fr Andrei was under the misunderstanding that Fr Efrem was only a candidate for the position of abbot.18 According to the provisions of the monastery confirmed by Emperor Alexander II, the brotherhood of the monastery should have the final voice concerning whether to accept Efrem as abbot. On 1 April 2011, Fr Efrem arrived at the monastery with the crosier and several fellow monks, demonstrating that his arrival was dictated by Patriarch Kirill’s will and that, eventually, the whole brotherhood of the monastery, not Andrei alone, would be replaced. This was the time when Fr Andrei at last realised that the entire chain of events (persecution of the young reformers, Dorfei’s forced emigration, the letter of repentance which he signed and his downgrade to status of manage, and the self-proclamation of the PitsundaSukhum bishopric, which was not delivered to the Orthodox world but was only intended to make the Abkhazian Church a juristic corporation participating in tourist business) were methodical steps leading to this day when the

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New Athos Monastery was destined to become the main base of the lucrative tourism-pilgrimage project. During his short period of service at the monastery, Fr Efrem discredited himself by struggling against what he considered to be Byzantine deviations committed by the Abkhazian Orthodoxy and by requesting that the chorus be sung in Slavonic, not in Abkhazian.19 The Abkhazians, who are much older Christians than the Russians, could hardly understand the criticism. On 11 April, a spontaneous mass meeting held in the New Athos Monastery forced Fr Efrem to abandon the monastery. This meeting declared no confidence in Fr Vissarion’s church leadership and called on the young clerics who had emigrated from Abkhazia to return and convene a Church-People’s Convention (Tserkovno-narodnoe sobranie), following the Abkhazians’ glorious memory of its 1917 precedent. On 15 May 2011, despite the furious calls for caution and the obstructions of the Abkhazian secular government and the ROC, 2,000 people, including opposition leaders and famous scholars and writers, came to the New Athos Monastery, where the Church-People’s Convention was held. Archimandrite Dorofei tactfully opened the convention by expressing his gratitude to Fr Vissarion, who ‘raised me and the young clerics sitting here’, emphasising that they were objecting to the ‘insufficient understanding’ of the Moscow Patriarchate but that they were not anti-ROC. The convention resolved to establish the ‘Holy Metropolitanate of Abkhazia’, and elected four clerics and six laymen to its council, while two seats were left vacant were to be filled by members of Vissarion’s group in the future. The baptised participants of the convention elected Dorofei as candidate for the future Abkhazian bishop.20 In response, on 26 May 2011, the ROC bishop of Maikop and Adygeya, Tikhon, prohibited Dorofei and Andrei from administering prayers and sacraments, against which the Council of the Holy Metropolitanate protested. The council argued that when Fr Vissarion self-proclaimed Abkhazia’s autocephaly in 2009, the ROC imposed no punishment against the clerics supporting him, so the ROC’s tendentiousness is indisputable.21 The chairman of the ROC’s Department for External Church Relations, Metropolitan Hilarion (Alfeyev), suggested that Dorofei and Andrei write a letter of repentance, but this time, not only Dorofei but also Andrei refused.

Conclusion From the religious viewpoint, the Transnistrian conflict unfolded within the ROC and moreover within the Chişinău-Moldovan Metropolitanate; therefore, the canonical status of the Transnistrian Orthodox congregation was restored relatively smoothly. The annexation of Bessarabia into the ROC in 1812 continues to be a potential source of tension between the ROC and the RomOC, but paradoxically, this tension facilitated the ChişinăuMoldovan Metropolitanate’s pro-Transnistrian turn. In its rivalry with the Bessarabian Metropolitanate of the RomOC, the left bank’s subordination is a valuable resource for the Chişinău-Moldovan Metropolitanate. In the

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two cases around Georgia, conditions for ‘canonisation’ were lacking, and the Orthodox leaders’ strategies were polarised into ‘obedience’ in Abkhazia and ‘defiance’ in South Ossetia. Since the official Orthodox world neither helped nor showed compassion, the Abkhazian clergy began to shift towards a strategy of defiance. In the early nineteenth century, the ROC established a policy of re-Christianising the Caucasus through the Georgian Church, which continues to this day. This policy readily translated into secular geopolitics as controlling the Caucasus via Tiflis (Tbilisi) and as inherited by the Soviet Union. The privileged status of Georgia in the Caucasus policy of the Russian and Soviet empires facilitated the creation of the modern Georgian nation. However, the ROC was afraid of strengthening the influence of Georgian clerics over the Caucasians too greatly, a situation which was exploited by nascent Abkhazian nationalists. Stalin forced the ROC to recognise the autocephaly of the GOC and the latter’s jurisdiction of Abkhazia. After the Second World War the ROC began to regard the GOC as a reliable ally in its Orthodox diplomacy. The August 2008 war forced the Russian secular authorities to rethink this ‘via-Georgia’ policy, but the ROC is unready to offend the GOC, by overtly helping the Abkhazian and South Ossetian congregations, in other words, by violating the GOC’s canonical territory. This chapter has revealed that Orthodox diplomacy is more legal-minded than secular diplomacy and that there is therefore little room for double standards. Paradoxically, this rigorism generates a grey zone between canonicity and non-canonicity. The relations between the canonical and non-canonical actors in Orthodox politics are very different from those between prosecutor and prosecuted. They are even interdependent. The ROC could not but ordain Dorofei and Andrei, although well aware that they would operate in the canonical territory of the GOC and no doubt cause problems in ROC– GOC relations. Fr Vissarion continues to be a Georgian priest, but became more and more dependent on the ROC’s authority in his struggle against the young clerics in Abkhazia. Hieromonk Dorofei, cast out of his fatherland in distress, found freedom of activity in Greece and was even ordained as archimandrite by the EP. Having suspended the holy obligations of Dorofei and Andrei, the head of external relations of the ROC, Hilarion, could not punish but only persuade them. One cannot but recognise that the ROC’s imperial management is more sophisticated and effective than that of the Soviet or Russian secular authorities. The Soviet Union collapsed but the ROC continues to control the same canonical territory as it did during the Soviet era. Facing the conflicts around the unrecognised states in the early 1990s, the Russian secular authorities adopted a ‘no winner, no loser’ approach to make both the host states (Georgia, Moldova and Azerbaijan) and breakaway states (Abkhazia, South Ossetia, Transnistria and Karabakh) dependent on Russia’s benevolence. In regard to Abkhazia and South Ossetia, this policy bankrupted in 2008, as a result of which Russia found no alternative but to recognise both statehoods. In contrast, the ROC continues to implement the ‘no winner, no loser’ policy

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successfully and the Georgian Catholicos-Patriarch Ilia II is grateful to the ROC for repeatedly confirming the canonical adherence of Abkhazia and South Ossetia to the GOC. Yet such diplomatic sophistication does not alleviate the sufferings of the unrecognised clergy, who sooner or later begin to defy the official Orthodox churches. In my discussion with Dorofei in 2006, he described Russians as being able to understand that Abkhazians are different from them even if they are Orthodox, however ‘this cannot be expected from the GOC, which is monoethnic by nature’.22 In 2011 he commented that ‘if in the coming panOrthodox Council the Greeks [EP] win [if the requirement for the mother church’s blessing for autocephaly is lifted], our fate will be determined by the Greeks, if the Russians [ROC] win [if the blessing continues to be requested], our fate will be determined by the Georgians. In any case, there will be no room for the Russians to have their say in Abkhazian matters.’23

Appendix Abkhazia 1

Religious leaders

•

Fr Vissarion (Bassarion Ivanovich Apliaa) (1947–), in office 1993–.

2

Biography

Bassarion was born in 1947 in Lykhny village in Abkhazia. He graduated from the Sukhum Industrial Technical School. In youth he was imprisoned twice for robbery and fighting. In a prison in Chita a priest showed Bassarion a pre-revolutionary prayer book written in Abkhazian. He became interested in Christianity. Returning to Lykhny, Bassarion became an active layman. In 1989, Catholicos-Patriarch of the Orthodox Church of Georgia Ilia II ordained him as deacon, with the name of Vissarion, and in the next year Metropolitan of the Sukhum-Abkhazian diocese David (Chkadua) ordained him as priest. After the Abkhazian War (1992–3) he stayed in Abkhazia. In 1997, Abkhazian clerics elected Fr Vissarion as provisional head of the Sukhum-Abkhazian bishopric. On 15 September 2009, the Eparchial Council of the bishopric decided to restore the medieval Pitsunda Catholicosate (under the title of the Pitsunda-Sukhum bishopric) and declared the eventual separation of the Abkhazian Church from the GOC. Since April 2011, Vissarion has been in uncompromising conflicts with a group of Abkhazian clerics. 3

Theological publications

•

Vissarion’s group does not have periodicals, while the opposition publishes Khristianskaia Abkhaziia [Christian Abkhazia].

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Congregations

The Pitsunda-Sukhum bishopric (under the leadership of Fr Vissarion) has 11 parishes, served by 6 monks and 6 (married) priests. The Abkhazian Holy Metropolitanate (the opposition group) has a monastery (St Simon the Zealot Monastery in New Athos), served by three monks. Two of them were ordained by the ROC; however, they claim to belong to the Orthodox Church of Greece. One of the three monks belongs to the Orthodox Church of Georgia. 5

Population

General population 240,705 people (2011). Ethnic composition: Abkhazians 50.7 per cent; Mingrelians 19.3 per cent; Armenians 17.3 per cent; Russians 9.7 per cent.24 Official statistics remain controversial. Many observers note that the proportion of Abkhazians is obviously overestimated. The Armenians, as a rule, identify themselves with the Armenian Apostolic Church. South Ossetia 1

Religious leaders

• •

Monk Georgi (Aleksandr Pukhate) (1973–), in office 1992–2010 Ambrose (Adrian Baird) Bishop of Methone, Holy Synod in Resistance (1949–), in office 2011–.

2

Biography

Bishop Ambrose (Adrian Baird) was born in London, England, in 1949, into a distinguished Anglican family. He is a convert to Orthodoxy. He completed his undergraduate and graduate studies at the University of London, the latter in art history at the Courtauld Institute of Art. He undertook monastic and theological training at the Monastery of Sts Cyprian and Justina in Fili, Attika, of which he has been a brother since 1973. He also holds a Licentiate in Theology from the Centre for Traditionalist Orthodox Studies in Etna, CA. Bishop Ambrose speaks eight languages and has written on a number of theological and pastoral subjects. He was consecrated Assistant Bishop to the First Hierarch of the Holy Synod in Resistance on 8 January 1993 (Old Style) and is Director of Foreign Missions for the Holy Synod.25 Bishop Ambrose is the spiritual father of Bishop Pukhate, who was the leader of the South Ossetian Orthodox movement since the early 1990s until 2010. Because of illness Pukhate resigned from the position of bishop in 2010. After a year of leave, it became clear that Pukhate was not able to continue to be bishop. The Alan bishopric was placed under the direct control of Ambrose, who is in charge of mission and inter-church relations in the Holy Synod in Resistance.

398 3

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Four acting churches with 3 priests; 1 deacon; 4 regularly functioning parishes (Tskhinval, Gudashauri and Tsunari), while the other churches are served on an irregular basis. In Znaur and in Kvaisa a church is being built which will serve as a parish church. A male monastery, the Tir Monastery, with a twelfth-century church without monks, only several candidates. A convent in Tigva with a historic church, with one nun.26 4

Population

Around 60,000 people (after the August 2008 war). Before the war, around 18,000 Georgians (25 per cent of the population) lived in South Ossetia (mainly in Georgia-controlled territory). Many Georgians returned to Leninogor (Akhalgori) District, which was neutral during the 2008 civil war, but the Georgian enclaves surrounding Tskhinval were destroyed by Ossetian paramilitaries. Transnistria 1

Religious leaders

• •

Justinian (Ovchinnikov) (1961–), Vicar of Transnistria (1995–8), Bishop of Transnistria Savva (Volkov) (1958–), in office 2010–.

2

Biography

Savva (Volkov) was born on 27 September 1958 in Mordova. In 1967, his family moved to Saransk, where he finished his tertiary education. Having completed his studies at the Ruzaev railway technical school, Volkov worked for a while in railway transportation. According to the recommendation of Archbishop of Penza and Saransk, Melkhisedek (Lebedev), Volkov was enrolled in the Moscow Theological Seminary in 1976. In 1980, Volkov graduated from this seminary and entered the Moscow Theological Academy. He served in the Soviet Army 1982–4. In 1986, Volkov became a deacon and finished the MTA. In the same year he was ordained as a monk with the monastic name of Savva at the St Danilov Monastery in Moscow. In 1987, Patriarch Pimen appointed Savva as ekonom (manager) of the St Danilov Monastery. In 1988, Savva became an archimandrite. In 1990, the Russian Patriarch appointed Savva as priest of the Ascension Church of Moscow. In 1995, Savva was appointed Bishop of Korasnogor of Moscow (vicar of the Moscow bishopric), in charge of the Synodal Department of Cooperation with the Army and Law-Enforcement Organs. Savva was a priest of the church commemorating the icon of the ‘Three-

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Handed Theotokos’ in Orekhovo-Borisovo, Moscow. On 5 March 2010, the Holy Synod appointed him as the head of the Tiraspol and Dubossary bishopric.27 3

Theological publications

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Pravoslavnor pridnestrovie [Orthodox Transnistria].

4

Congregations

One bishopric; 5 deaneries; around 80 parishes; around 100 priests. 5

Population

General population 555,500 people (2004); 177,000 Moldovans (31.9 per cent), 168,000 Russians (30.3 per cent), 160,000 Ukrainians (28.8 per cent), and 39,400 others (7.1 per cent).28 The three main ethnic groups are Orthodox, while there are significant minorities of Armenians (the Armenian Apostolic Church), Old Believers (since Transnistria was a border area between Russia and the Ottoman Empire), Catholics (the northern part of Transnistria, as well as the northern part of right-bank Moldova, belonged to Rzeczpospolita) and Jewish communities. In addition, a number of Protestant groups, such as Baptists, Adventists and Jehovah’s Witnesses, are active.

Notes 1 Since Russia and several other countries recognised the independence of South Ossetia and Abkhazia after the August 2008 war, these countries are sometimes referred to as semi-recognised states. 2 Alexander Schmemann, The Historical Road of Eastern Orthodoxy, Crestwood, NY: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 2003 [1977], pp. 164–8; Dmitri Obolensky, Byzantium and the Slavs, Crestwood, NY: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 1994, pp. 98–103; Donald W. Treadgold, A History of Christianity, Belmont, MA: Nordland, 1979, p. 81. 3 Kimitaka Matsuzato, ‘Inter-Orthodox Relations and Transborder Nationalities in and around Unrecognised Abkhazia and Transnistria’, Religion, State and Society, 2009, 37 (3), p. 251. 4 Rossiiskii gosudarstvennyi istoricheskii arkhiv [Russian State Historical Archive] (RGIA), f. 796, Kantselyariya Svyateishego sinoda [Chancellery of the Holy Synod], op. 90, d. 697, l. 54. 5 Ibid., ll. 1, 2–3ob. 6 Etymologically, the term ‘exarch’ derives from the title for deputies of ancient patriarchs propagating Christianity among the barbarians, later implying those leaders responsible for representing patriarchal authority and also spreading Christianity outward. In the Russian Empire, only Tiflis was honoured with an exarchate, while Kazan, Kyiv, Vilnius and other Orthodox centres did not. 7 RGIA, f. 796, op. 90, d. 697, l. 21ob. See also Paul Werth, ‘Georgian Autocephaly and the Ethnic Fragmentation of Orthodoxy’, Acta Slavica Iaponica, 2006, 23, 82–4.

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8 Ieromonakh Dorofei (Dbar), Kratkii Ocherk istorii Abkhazskoi Pravoslavnoi Tserkvi [Short Sketch of the Abkhazian Orthodox Church] Novyi Afon: Izdatel’stvo Abkhazskoi Eparkhii ‘Startofil’ [Publishing House of the Abkhazian Eparchy ‘Startofil’], 2006, pp. 16–17. 9 ‘Tserkovnyi pravoslavnyi raskol v sovremennoi Abkhazii: Obrashchenie Svyashchennosluzhitelei Abkhazskoi Tserkvi ot 25 oktyabrya 2011 goda’ [A Church-Orthodox schism in contemporary Abkhazia: An appeal of the Abkhazian Church clergy on 25 October 2011], official site of the Abkhazian Orthodox Church, http://www.aiasha.ru/orthodox_abkhazia/97/462/ (accessed 4 November 2011). 10 In 1920, the Ecumenical Church of Constantinople changed its church calendar from Julian to Gregorian, as a component of its ecumenical policy. The Greek, Romanian and Bulgarian Orthodox churches followed this decision, while the Russian and Serbian Orthodox churches and the Patriarchate of Jerusalem continue to use the Julian calendar. In all of the countries in which the calendar reform took place, dissidents called the Old Calendarists emerged. See Bishop Chrysostomos, ‘The Old Calendar Greek Church: A Critical Evaluation’, in Bishop Chrysostomos, Bishop Auxentios and Bishop Ambrose, The Old Calendar Orthodox Church of Greece, Etna, CA: Center for Traditionalist Orthodox Studies, 1994, pp. 48–81; Kimitaka Matsuzato, ‘South Ossetia and the Orthodox World: Official Churches, the Greek Old Calendarist Movement, and the So-called Alan Diocese’, Journal of Church and State, 2010, 52 (2), 275–8. 11 He seemed to have lost the confidence of the South Ossetian priests, most of whom by 2010 he himself had ordained. Yet to what extent this situation affected his desire to resign is unknown. 12 ‘O proshenii poddannom Preosvyashchennym Episkopom Alanskim Georgiem ob osvobozhdenii ot svoei kafedry’ [On the petition submitted by Alan Bishop Georgy asking dismissal from his cathedral], an archival document of the Holy Synod in Resistance dated 22 April 2011, kindly provided as a research source by Bishop Ambrose of the Holy Synod. 13 ‘Protokol zasedaniya Eparkhial’nogo Sobraniya Sukhumo-Abkhazskoi Eparkhii ot 15 sentyabrya 2009 g. ot R. Kh.’ [Protocol of the Eparchial meeting of the Sukhum-Abkhazian Eparchy held on 15 September 2009], archive of the SukhumAbkhazian diocese. 14 On the ROC’s hesitative attitude toward the pan-Orthodox Council, see ‘Metropolitan Hilarion: There Are No Grounds to Expect the Pan-Orthodox Council to Run into Surprises’, published on the official website of the Moscow Patriarchate on 30 August 2011, http://www.mospat.ru/en/2011/08/30/news46926/ (accessed 4 November 2011). 15 Interview with Dositheos Anagnostopoulos, Press Office Director of the EP, 29 March 2010, Istanbul. 16 ‘Abkhazakoi pravoslavnoi tserkvi peredany v bezvozmezdnoe bessrochnoe pol’zovanie 38 khramov i soborov’ [38 churches and cathedrals were passed to unpaid and indefinite use by the Abkhazian Orthodox Church], Apsnypress, 9 February 2011, http://apsnypress.info/news/2478.html (accessed 21 November 2011). In Abkhazia, the process of restitution of church property was significantly delayed in comparison that in other post-communist countries, perhaps because of the unrecognised status of the Abkhazian Orthodox Church. 17 Interview with German Marshaniya, editor of the newspaper Khristianskaya Abkhaziya, 13 September 2011, Novyi Afon, Abkhazia. Stanislav Lakoba testifies that some representative of the ROC told him that they were ready to invest €8 million in the tourism-pilgrimage project in Abkhazia. See ‘“Ankvabu takoe nasledstvo dostalos’, ne dai bog!” Izvestnyi abkhazskii istorik, professor Stanislav Lakoba rasskazal Ol’ge Allenovoi, pochemu v razgar predvybornoi kampanii

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on podderzhal Aleksandra Ankvaba [‘Ankvab keeps such a heritage, God forbid!’ Famous Abkhazian historian, Professor Stanislav Lakoba explained to Olga Allenova why he supported Aleksandr Ankvab at the climax of the electoral campaign], Apsnypress, 5 September 2011, http://apsnypress.info/interview/4162.html (accessed 15 November 2011). Chegemskaya pravda, 12 April 2011, p. 1. Chegemskaya pravda, 26 April 2011, p. 2. Respublika Abkahziya, 19–20 May, 2011, p. 1. Khristianskaya Abkhaziya, June 2011, 4 (50), pp. 1–2. Author’s interview with Dorofei, 20 August 2006, Novy Afon, Abkhazia. I heard this opinion not directly from Dorofei, who continues to stay in Greece, but from Fr Andrei and G. Marshaniya, 13 September 2011, Novyi Afon, Abkhazia. http://apsnypress.info/news/5084.html (accessed 4 November 2011). http://www.synodinresistance.org/Administration_en/AmbroseMethoni.html (accessed 4 November 2011). Data kindly provided by Bishop Ambrose of Methone to the author, 4 July 2012. http://diocese-tiras.org/page.php?id=6 (accessed 4 November 2011). http://www.languages-study.com/demography/pridnestrovie.html (accessed 4 November 2011).

21 Orthodox churches in Moldova Andrei Avram

Orthodox Christian life in the Republic of Moldova has experienced an almost spectacular revival since the country declared its independence from the USSR on 27 August 1991. However, the re-emergence of religion in the public space was – from the very outset of modern Moldovan statehood – almost inextricably tied to the seemingly endless societal debates regarding the raison d’être of the new country, while also being caught in the geopolitical struggle between Romania and Russia, with the former eager for closer ties with what Bucharest views as its sister nation and the latter seeking to conserve its influence over the former Soviet republics. Certainly, especially given the common adherence to the Orthodox Christian faith of the overwhelming majority of both the Romanian-speaking titular nation, as well as of almost all national minorities in the Republic of Moldova – Ukrainians, Russians, Gagauz and Bulgarians – the religious factor cannot be viewed as a prime catalyst for conflict,1 yet it should not be overlooked either, not least because ‘most “ethnic” conflicts rest upon a basis of ethnic religious and cultural difference’.2 Having been part of the medieval principality of Moldavia (the western part of which belongs to modern-day Romania), most of the territory comprising today’s Republic of Moldova has been a subject of geopolitical disputes since 1812, when it was annexed by the Russian Empire as a consequence of the Peace of Bucharest, which ended the Russo-Turkish War (1806–12). In 1918, the province known historically as Bessarabia was incorporated into interwar Greater Romania, only to be annexed by the Soviet Union in 1940 as a result of the Ribbentrop–Molotov-Pact. In 1941, Romanian troops were able to bring the area under the control of Bucharest, but were pushed back in 1944, when the Red Army retook Bessarabia, which thereafter remained a part of the USSR almost until its demise. Each transfer of political power was accompanied by a corresponding shift in religious authority, with the Russian Orthodox Church (1812–1918, 1940–1 and after 1944) and the Romanian Orthodox Church (1918–40, 1941–4) in turn asserting ecclesiastical jurisdiction over the province. Initially, Bessarabia had belonged to the Metropolitanate of Moldavia, being the second territory the latter had to relinquish control over, after Bukovina, which was lost in 1775.3

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The shifts in canonical authority were accompanied by changes in church rituals. While Orthodox life was subjected to a process of Russification under Tsarist rule and after the death of the first bishop to serve under the authority of the Patriarchate in Moscow, Gavriil Bănulescu-Bodoni, in 1821, only Russians were subsequently appointed to head the Eparchy of Chişinău, which had been founded in 1813.4 In 1871, the use of Romanian was officially banned in religious establishments.5 During Romanian rule in the interwar period, under Gurie Grosu, who headed the Archbishopric of Chişinău and Hotin (1919–36) – elevated to the Metropolitanate of Bessarabia in 1928 – Russian believers were subjected to campaigns aimed at imposing Romanian as the language of religious services and the Gregorian calendar, which had been adopted by the Romanian Orthodox Church.6 After 1944, the Orthodox Church in the Moldavian Soviet Socialist Republic (MSSR) was once again subordinated to the Patriarchate of Moscow and All Russia, being relegated to the status of a bishopric, headed, until 1989, exclusively by Russian-speaking clergy.7 The Soviet regime closed most churches and all but one monastery on the territory of the MSSR. By the late 1980s, only 193 churches were still functioning, with 230 priests, 12 deans and 114 church singers8 – a dramatic decline, when compared to the 1,090 churches functioning in 1940, served by 1,042 priests, 19 deans and 1,099 church singers.9 Moreover, future priests were educated solely in Russian, either in Odessa or at the theological academies in Zagorsk and Leningrad, with religious books throughout Moldova available in Russian only. In some parishes, religious services started being carried out in old Slavonic, due to the appointment of priests who were not Moldovans10 – and thus were not familiar with the Romanian language. In five rayons on the left bank of the Dniester (collectively known as Transnistria), incorporated into the MSSR by Moscow in 1940 and in 1944, all churches had been closed by the Soviet authorities by 1938.11

Orthodox Christianity and nation-building in the Republic of Moldova The Republic of Moldova became independent in the context of interethnic tensions and uncertainties regarding the future of its very statehood. A first dividing line in Moldovan society was drawn in 1989, when the Supreme Soviet of the MSSR passed legislation declaring Romanian – locally (also) called Moldovan – the state language, a move which drew the resentment of national minorities, among which knowledge of the idiom of the titular nation was particularly poor.12 The demand for the national language to receive official status had been put forward by the Popular Front – initially an umbrella group seeking reforms in the MSSR in the wake of perestroika, but which increasingly radicalised its pro-Bucharest stance in the subsequent years, demanding closer ties and subsequently reunification with Romania.13 Significantly, the demands for enhancing the role of the local idiom also played a role in the decision of the Holy Synod of the Russian Orthodox

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Church, which – in response to requests from the national movement in Chişinău for a Moldovan bishop – appointed the Romanian-speaking Vladimir Cantarean Bishop of Chişinău and Moldova on 7 July 1989.14 This decision – adopted less than two months before the new language laws were passed by the Moldovan Supreme Soviet – was followed by a further move to alleviate the frustration of Moldovan believers: on 1 September 1990, two Romanian-speaking bishops were ordained on the occasion of the Russian Patriarch Aleksei II’s visit to Chişinău – Petru Păduraru and Vichente Moraru.15 Moreover, the status of the Orthodox Church in Moldova was elevated, with Vladimir being declared Archbishop on 4 April 1990, and on 3 January 1991, the Holy Synod in Moscow approved a new structure for the Church in Moldova, which was to become the Metropolitanate of Chişinău and All Moldova.16 As of 5 October 1992, Vladimir became metropolitan and the new church structure received autonomous status.17 Furthermore, in autumn 1991, the Faculty of Theology in Chişinău was established – initially within the State University of Moldova – as well as the Theological Seminary in Căpriana, which was later moved to Noul Neamţ Monastery. The cathedral in central Chişinău – today the country’s Metropolitan Cathedral – had already been reopened in 1989, with the approval of the authorities.18

The emergence of competing Orthodox churches in the Republic of Moldova The adoption of the new legislation regarding the use of languages and the prospect of possible reunification with Romania constituted the catalyst for two secessionist movements in Moldova – one in Transnistria and a further one in the south of the country, in the areas populated by the Gagauz, a Turkic people. While the causes of these developments were complex, with the regional elites’ desire to control resources in the respective areas playing a significant part and their anti-Moldovan and anti-Romanian discourse a useful tool to mobilise an already disorientated population, the government which took power in 1990 under Mircea Druc did not appear willing to take any steps to alleviate the fears of the Russian-speaking minorities, instead opting for an attempt to virtually eliminate non-Moldovans from cultural life and for an educational policy seeking distance from Russian influence.19 Tensions between Chişinău and the self-declared Pridnestrovian Moldavian Republic (Transnistria) led to a short but bloody civil war in the spring and summer of 1992, cementing the division of the Republic of Moldova, which continues to the present day.20 Furthermore, the ‘frozen conflict’ has been influencing political life in Chişinău ever since, with the re-establishment of territorial integrity a practically compulsory element of the agenda of all subsequent governments.21 It was against the backdrop of the conflict in Transnistria that on 3 April 1992, a group of fifty-two members of the Moldovan Parliament addressed a

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memorandum to both Russian Patriarch Aleksii II and to Romanian Patriarch Teoctist, whom they asked to urgently initiate a dialogue between the Russian and Romanian Orthodox churches, in order to ‘recreate the church unity of the Romanian people’.22 The Holy Synod of the Romanian Orthodox Church reacted within six days and published a communiqué in which it stated that the Synod had ‘never recognised the dissolution of the Metropolitanate of Bessarabia … and of the Metropolitanate of Bukovina’, adding that the Romanian Orthodox Church ‘can never accept the unfortunate consequences of the Ribbentrop–Molotov-Pact’.23 The Russian Orthodox Church rejected the move, accusing the Patriarchate in Bucharest of fuelling interethnic tensions. Furthermore, the overwhelming majority of the Moldovan clergy, including Metropolitan Vladimir, were not only opposed to any change in canonical jurisdiction, but also publicly denounced what they saw as the dangers of ‘Romanianisation’, as well as any priests supportive of pan-Romanian ideals.24 One plausible reason for the reluctance of the majority of Moldovan clergy to accept being subordinated to the Romanian Orthodox Church may lie in the fact that they had been educated in Russian seminaries.25 Still, Vladimir’s views were not shared by the recently appointed Bishop of Bălţi, Petru Păduraru, who – after actively condemning Vladimir’s policies – was dismissed on 24 August 1992, also because of pressure from the Russian members of his flock.26 Instead, with a following of initially ten priests, Petru sought to reactivate the interwar Metropolitanate of Bessarabia, which they officially proclaimed in the following month, and which was officially recognised as part of the Romanian Orthodox Church on 20 December 1992, with autonomous status and retaining the old (Julian) calendar.27 The Orthodox world was split in its reaction to the emergence of two competing Orthodox churches in the young Republic of Moldova. The Patriarchate of Serbia and that of Jerusalem criticised the Romanian Patriarch, whereas the Ecumenical Patriarchate in Constantinople recognised the restoration of the Metropolitanate of Bessarabia during the following year.28 This gesture may be related to the broader conflict between the Patriarchate of Moscow and All Russia and the Ecumenical Patriarchate in the post-Soviet region, with each entity supporting competing Orthodox churches in Estonia and Ukraine. The recognition of the Metropolitanate of Bessarabia and its inclusion into the canonical territory of the Romanian Orthodox Church was also deplored by Moldovan President Mircea Snegur, who, in a speech given shortly afterwards in Parliament, accused the Romanian Church of (also) being responsible for the territorial disintegration of the country. Significantly, by that time, the Moldovan government is said to have been considering seeking a separate Moldovan Church, under the authority of the Patriarch of Constantinople29 – an idea, which has been recurrent in Moldovan society during the past two decades. Nevertheless, at the time, no further steps were taken in this direction and therefore, since the end of 1992, the Orthodox Church in the Republic of Moldova has remained divided.

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The Metropolitanate of Bessarabia and its quest for recognition In its attempt to justify its claim to canonical jurisdiction over the former province of Bessarabia, the Romanian Orthodox Church has made use of theological arguments, citing Apostolic canon 34, canon 2 of the Second Ecumenical Council of Constantinople (AD 381) and canon 8 of the Third Ecumenical Council of Ephesus (AD 431) in its favour, with the first referring to the organisation of churches along ethnic lines and the latter two forbidding unilateral claims of jurisdiction over another eparchy, i.e. unilateral changes in canonical jurisdiction. Canon 34, however, does not appear to have a clear interpretation.30 Even if it were to be theologically unequivocal, controversy remains over whether Moldovans are part of the Romanian nation or form a separate people – in which case at least the recourse to Apostolic canon 34 by the Romanian Orthodox Church would be rendered irrelevant. Thus, the conflict between the two metropolitanates is inevitably embedded within the fundamental debate related to the process of Moldovan nation-building, constituting one of the key dividing lines in Moldovan society over the past two decades. Significantly, both pan-Romanianist political forces and intellectual elites have been reluctant to accept the idea of either a Moldovan ethnos or of a Moldovan language, whereas actors prone towards a more distant modus vivendi in the relationship with Romania and towards a favourable attitude towards the Russian Federation have been keen to emphasise the distinctiveness of the titular nation of the Republic of Moldova (and of its language), as well as the multinational character of its population.31 The favourable attitude of all Moldovan governments between the early 1990s and 2009 towards the Metropolitanate of Moldova thus went hand in hand with their adherence to a – more or less explicitly – Moldovacentred nation-building project, based upon the Stalinist doctrine of viewing Moldovans and Romanians as two ethnically separate people.32 Until 2002, all eleven successive cabinets of ministers in office since the emergence of the church conflict rejected requests by the Metropolitanate of Bessarabia to be registered – until the European Court of Human Rights (ECHR) ruled in the latter’s favour on 13 December 2001, confirming its decision after an appeal by the authorities in Chişinău during the first half of the following year.33 Significantly, the Moldovan authorities did not even attempt to deny that the Metropolitanate of Bessarabia had been subjected to discrimination or to several incidents of persecution, instead pointing to the geopolitical nature of the inter-church dispute, claiming that official recognition of the Metropolitanate of Bessarabia would have negative consequences for the independence and territorial integrity of the Republic of Moldova and accusing it of covering up political forces seeking reunification with Romania.34 While the Court did not heed these arguments, which were put forward by the Moldovan Minister of Justice, Ion Morei, personally – whose presence indicates the importance of the issue to the government in Chişinău – it is significant that the only political party to openly support the Metropolitanate

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of Bessarabia during the 1990s was the People’s Christian-Democratic Party (Partidul Popular Creştin-Democrat – PPCD), the successor of the Popular Front, with a pan-Romanian agenda. In fact, it was one of the PPCD’s leaders, Vlad Cubreacov, who represented the Metropolitanate of Bessarabia at the European Court of Human Rights, having also been its solicitor in its previous unsuccessful attempts to obtain recognition by the Moldovan judiciary. Furthermore, in its political discourse, the PPCD explained its stance on the Metropolitanate of Bessarabia from a pan-Romanian point of view, by describing it as a ‘fundamental institution of the people, which maintains the millenary tradition and spirituality of the Romanians in the Republic of Moldova’.35 Notably though, the Metropolitanate of Bessarabia refrained from active political involvement.36 The forced recognition of the Metropolitanate of Bessarabia in 2002 only partly solved the legal issues regarding its activity. One major issue is related to the restitution of property confiscated or nationalised by the Soviet authorities after 1944, since the Moldovan government has not – up to the present day – recognised the Metropolitanate as the legal successor of the church entity which had functioned in the interwar period, but only its right to claim spiritual, canonical and historical succession.37 An important obstacle in the quest for reclaiming ownership over buildings and cult objects lies in the fact that the archives of the pre-1944 Metropolitanate had been transferred to Romania in 1944, only to be ceded to the Soviet authorities eight years later, creating difficulties in providing the requisite documentation.38 However, the major hurdle has been at the political level, especially between 2001 and 2009, when the country was governed by the staunchly anti-Romanian Party of Communists of the Republic of Moldova (Partidul Comuniştilor din Republica Moldova – PCRM), whose leader and president of the country during the same period, Vladimir Voronin, assured representatives of the Moldovan Church in 2009 that no local parish of its counterpart would be registered by the Ministry of Justice and that the government would seek to annul recognition of the Metropolitanate of Bessarabia.39 Furthermore, PCRM leaders continued to accuse the Romanian church entity of endangering Moldovan statehood and of acting in the interest of Romania.40 The unresolved issue of property rights has impeded the implementation of the decision of the Metropolitanate of Bessarabia to reactivate three subordinate eparchies (the fourth being the Archbishopric of Chişinău) – the bishopric of Bălţi, the bishopric of Southern Bessarabia and the bishopric of Dubăsari and All Transnistria, since they lacked even the buildings to house the corresponding administration.41 The very existence of these three entities nurtured yet further conflict between the Romanian Orthodox Church and the Russian Orthodox Church, following the recognition by the Holy Synod in Bucharest of the reactivation thereof during its session in October 2007.42 Although the decision of the Romanian Orthodox Church merely confirmed steps already taken by the Metropolitanate of Bessarabia43 – and which had been recognised by the competent Moldovan authorities – it appears to have

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been an ill-prepared step from the point of view of inter-church relations, provoking not only a negative reaction in Moscow, but also of several sister churches, especially of the Serbian Patriarch, although his reaction will also have related to the existing conflict between Bucharest and Belgrade on the right to provide religious service to ethnic Romanians in Serbia.44 At present, no bishops have yet been appointed to lead the above-mentioned bishoprics and in the short-term the situation is not likely to change, given the financial strain under which the Metropolitanate of Bessarabia is operating. Nevertheless, the Romanian church entity has managed to establish a visible presence in the religious landscape of the Republic of Moldova. From an initial modest following, it has grown to have a total of 312 subordinate entities45 (parishes, monasteries and seminaries), although when compared to the 1,281 entities of the Metropolitanate of Chişinău and All Moldova it becomes clear that the influence of the Bessarabian Church on society remains structurally limited. Moreover, the Metropolitanate of Bessarabia is a key actor in the process of promoting a pan-Romanian identity in the Republic of Moldova, illustrated by its active cultivation – through dedicated or ordinary religious services – of the historical memory of events such as the unification of Bessarabia with Romania on 27 March 1918, of the memory of Romanian soldiers who died in the country during the Second World War in what is viewed in Bucharest as the attempted liberation of Moldova or of the memory of the deportation of Romanian-speaking inhabitants of the MSSR during the Stalinist period. Significantly, the explicitly pan-Romanian radio station ‘Vocea Basarabiei’ broadcasts Sunday mass live from Sfânta Teodora de la Sihla Cathedral in Chişinău, which is the only cathedral in the capital subordinated to the Metropolitanate of Bessarabia.46 Notably, the Romanian church entity is also present outside the Republic of Moldova, with parishes in Latvia, Lithuania, the Ukraine, the Russian Federation and even in the USA.47 Its existence is fraught with its own problems though, as the creation of parishes outside the country may be considered to be in violation of the principle of territoriality,48 which the Romanian Orthodox Church has invoked to justify the reactivation of the Metropolitanate of Bessarabia, alongside the – more contestable – ethnic argument provided by Apostolic canon 34. On 26 August 2011, the Holy Synod of the Ukrainian Orthodox Church expressed its concern regarding the activity of the Romanian church entity in Ukraine, less than two months after the inauguration of a church under the authority of the Bessarabian Church in the village of Kamyshovka in the region of Odessa.49 From a geopolitical point of view, there appears to be no correlation between the increase in the number of parishes of the Metropolitanate of Bessarabia during the past two decades and pan-Romanian consciousness among Moldovan citizens. In fact, since the PPCD failed to accede to the Moldovan Parliament in 2009, no more political force explicitly supportive of the Romanian church entity joined the legislature. The Liberal Party of former interim Moldovan President Mihai Ghimpu and of the popular

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mayor of Chişinău, Dorin Chirtoacă, retains a more neutral stance towards the church conflict, despite the pan-Romanian discourse it has been promoting on other issues. Furthermore, the decisions of local priests to transfer from the authority of the Metropolitanate of Chişinău and All Moldova to the authority of the Metropolitanate of Bessarabia – or vice versa – are often related to individual conflicts with their superiors.50 While remaining faithful to a nation-building project orientated towards the Romanian identity of the Republic of Moldova, the Metropolitanate of Bessarabia does not therefore, at present, appear a strong enough catalyst in this respect, nor does it appear to represent a challenge to the dominant role of its Russian counterpart, which will be discussed in detail in the next section.

On the (geo)political role of the Metropolitanate of Chişinău and All Moldova Assessing the role of the Metropolitanate of Chişinău and All Moldova in Moldovan society is complicated by the fact that both in its discourse and in its public actions, the Russian church entity does not appear to have been guided by a consistent position on major issues of identity policy, while its political allegiances have changed, in reaction to the changes at the top echelons of power in Chişinău. Furthermore, since the Moldovan Church is the sole major religious actor in the unrecognised Transnistrian region – where its Romanian counterpart is only nominally present51 – it is important to dwell upon its role through the analytical prism of the geopolitical games related to the identification of a solution to the ‘frozen conflict’ between Chişinău and Tiraspol. Both local experts and international observers concur in their opinion that the Metropolitanate of Chişinău and All Moldova benefits from a privileged position in Moldovan society. In September 2011, the UN Special Rapporteur on freedom of religion or belief, Heiner Bielefeldt, having concluded a visit to the country, identified both legal and practical evidence of the prominent role of the Metropolitanate of Moldova in public life, citing formal provisions in the law on religious denominations referring to the ‘leading role of … the Metropolitanate of Chişinău and All Moldova in the life, history and culture of the Republic of Moldova’, as well as the special treatment it receives regarding the restitution of property, the presence of its chaplains in the military or of its priests in schools and even the diplomatic status enjoyed by Metropolitan Vladimir.52 Significantly, the Metropolitanate of Chişinău and All Moldova did not deny these findings, instead questioning – in a press statement – the legitimacy of Bielefeldt to make recommendations either to the Church or to the people.53 Furthermore, recent years have proved that the Metropolitanate of Chişinău and All Moldova has been using its position at the expense of other religious groups in the country. One recent example in this respect was the official condemnation, by Vladimir personally, of the registration by the Ministry of Justice of the Islamic League on 14 March 2011,

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which granted legal status to the small number of Muslim communities in the country for the first time. In response, Prime Minister Vlad Filat took part in a meeting of the Holy Synod of the Moldovan Church on 25 May, promising to assess the manner in which the said registration had taken place and possible adjustments to the law on religious denominations.54 In an incident in August 2009, Vladimir officially intervened – on behalf of what he claimed to be several hundred concerned believers – in order to prevent Adventist Christians from organising a religious music concert in the main square of the Moldovan capital.55 Subsequently, the mayor of Chişinău withdrew the authorisation it had previously granted to the Adventist Church, which was forced to relocate the event to the periphery of the city.56 In the former case, the Moldovan authorities in the end refrained from further action, probably not wishing to appear discriminatory in the context of the European integration aspirations of the country.57 As already mentioned, the Moldovan Orthodox Church’s position was strengthened between 2001 and 2009 by the fact that the Republic of Moldova was governed by the Party of Communists (PCRM) and by the fact that its leader Vladimir Voronin served as head of state. Moldovan experts are keen to note that the Moldovan ex-president was a personal friend of former Russian Patriarch Alexei II, and that he was also the only leader of a country from the Commonwealth of Independent States (CIS) to attend the inauguration of his successor, Patriarch Kirill.58 More importantly, the PCRM and the Metropolitanate of Chişinău and All Moldova engaged in an informal partnership, with Voronin’s government funding repair works at several monasteries and churches, in exchange for the political support of the clergy, who – especially in rural areas, where their influence is significant – explicitly urged believers to vote for the communists in elections.59 Nevertheless, Metropolitan Vladimir denied supporting the PCRM, calling communism ‘anti-godly’ in an interview in 2008.60 Voronin – now the leader of the opposition – apparently remains a figure close to the Russian Orthodox Church, being the only politician Kirill decorated on the occasion of the latter’s visit to Chişinău in October 2011. While the close relationship between the PCRM and the Metropolitanate of Chişinău and All Moldova, at least between 2001 and 2009, seems to be an indisputable fact, it should be noted that besides political pragmatism, there is a certain ideological compatibility between them which gives their partnership an almost natural character. Unlike its Bessarabian counterpart, the Moldovan Orthodox Church, in accordance with the Statute of the Russian Orthodox Church, claims jurisdiction over all Orthodox faithful in the country, regardless of ethnicity, its inclusive message therefore being compatible with that of the PCRM, which has been constantly relying on the support of national minorities, which comprise a significant proportion of its core electorate.61 Furthermore, the PCRM’s electoral programme in 2001 proposed the introduction of Russian as the second state language, in line with the Metropolitanate of Chişinău’s policy of treating both languages equally.62

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The PCRM had also run on a platform of joining the Union State of Russia and Belarus. However, it is worth pointing out that the Metropolitanate of Chişinău and All Moldova has not refrained on occasion from calling the national language of the country Romanian,63 despite the PCRM’s insistence on using either the term Moldovan or the non-committal formula ‘the state language’. Although some Moldovan analysts accuse past governments of keeping the Church under the authority of the Patriarchate of Moscow in order to maintain the country in the Russian sphere of influence,64 there appears to be no compelling empirical evidence in support of this thesis, especially since Voronin reverted from the pro-Russian vector in 2003, declaring European integration the main foreign policy goal of the Republic of Moldova. Certainly, while serious doubts may exist regarding the true commitment towards meeting this end, it serves to prove that – at least at the level of the political discourse – the lack of concurrence between the geopolitical orientation of the PCRM on the one hand and of the Russian Orthodox Church on the other hand has not resulted in conflict between the political and the religious establishments of the Republic of Moldova. Nevertheless, the enhanced role the Metropolitanate of Chişinău and All Moldova has been granted at the societal level, has been cited by local experts as a factor for the conservation of Soviet nostalgia and for the preservation of a collective orientation towards Russia,65 although a precise correlation cannot be established for obvious methodological reasons. Furthermore, the use of two religious calendars in the country – and thus the existence of two dates when Christmas and the New Year are celebrated – may also be considered to be a source of problems leading to cultural exclusion.66 In fact, the Metropolitanate of Chişinău and All Moldova opposed the decision of the government in late 2009 to declare 25 December a public holiday.67 Yet it is significant that therein lies no further frontline of the conflict with its Bessarabian counterpart, since the latter also uses the Julian calendar, with the approval of the Patriarchate in Bucharest. Still, approximately one fifth of Moldovans celebrate Christmas on 25 December68 – often in continuation of traditions established in the interwar period or, as anecdotal evidence suggests, in accordance either with the decision of the priest or of the local community. Furthermore, Moldovan society appears to come to terms with this fracture, which should therefore not be regarded as having more than a minimal impact on public consciousness. Criticism regarding the role of the Metropolitanate of Chişinău and All Moldova in promoting closer ties with Russia has been nurtured by statements of Patriarch Kirill, who, during a meeting with leaders of the Metropolitanate of Chişinău and All Moldova in August 2010, underlined that in front of God, Moldovans and Russians were ‘one people’ and also expressed his hope that the political orientation of Moldova will serve the preservation of the unity of Holy Rus’.69 Notably, Kirill’s words came against the backdrop of the most controversial political involvement of the Moldovan

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Orthodox Church, which entered into an explicit partnership with the – arguably – controversial Valeriu Pasat, a former secret service chief and Minister of Defence, previously imprisoned for the apparently illegal sale of fighter jets of the Moldovan armed forces, who was released after the personal intervention of then Prime Minister Vladimir Putin of Russia. In spring 2010, Pasat launched a campaign for the introduction of a compulsory school subject called ‘The Basics of Orthodoxy’, which received the full support of the Metropolitanate of Chişinău and All Moldova, with the leadership thereof taking part in a mass rally with 40,000 participants on 8 May 2010, demanding the inclusion of the aforementioned subject in the school curriculum. Less than a month later, posters depicting Pasat and Vladimir together appeared in public places throughout the country, bearing a message in support of the proposed measure.70 Shortly thereafter, Pasat was elected chairman of the Humanist Party of Moldova (Partidul Umanist din Moldova – PUM), with the introduction of Orthodox religious education in schools constituting the key objective of his programme. Significantly, the platform of the PUM for the early parliamentary elections which took place in November that same year was tied both to a pro-Russian geopolitical orientation and to a Moldovanist nation-building discourse. Pasat declared that his party’s goal was for the country to join the customs union between Russia, Belarus and Kazakhstan, whereas in the party’s programme the introduction of the subject ‘The Basics of Orthodoxy’ was mentioned alongside the need to strengthen Moldovan statehood.71 Pasat had already positioned himself publicly on identity policy by not only stating that he viewed himself as a Moldovan, but that he spoke the Moldovan language. For the first time in the history of the Republic of Moldova, the government did not refrain from confronting the Metropolitanate of Chişinău and All Moldova. Prime Minister Vlad Filat openly called the proposal to introduce Orthodox religious instruction ‘purely political’ and the Ministry of Education proposed a significantly more neutral alternative school subject – to be called ‘Religion’ – and which would remain optional.72 Despite local cases in which students have reportedly been pressured to take part in religion classes, on a national scale it appears that the freedom of choice in this regard is respected in Moldovan schools.73 Furthermore, all religious communities can offer religious instruction, the only condition being a minimum number of students. Besides the reaction of the political elites, it is significant that NGOs and the media, as well as society at large, reacted to the partnership between the Metropolitanate of Chişinău and All Moldova and the PUM in an unequivocally critical manner.74 The press reported that the political manoeuvre of the Metropolitanate of Chişinău and All Moldova had also been met with scepticism by members of its own clergy.75 Opinion polls showed that the resonance of the PUM’s political objectives among Moldovan voters was quite low, as subsequently evidenced by the fact that Pasat’s party obtained only 0.9 per cent of the ballots cast.

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The Metropolitanate of Chişinău and All Moldova had, however, by the time of the election on 28 November, withdrawn its support for the PUM, through a declaration of the Holy Synod at the beginning of the month in which the Church not only distanced itself from the political scene, but also expressed its support for the government’s alternative project of introducing religion as a school subject.76 However, the impact of this decision should not be overstated, since opinion polls had already shown that the PUM would not surpass the 4 per cent threshold required to accede to the legislature, raising questions as to whether the Synod’s decision was generated by the pragmatic necessity of avoiding public embarrassment, rather than by the criticism it had been exposed to in Moldovan society since joining forces with Valeriu Pasat. In an almost absurd twist, Pasat not only held on to his Orthodox discourse after the Synod’s decision, but later also publicly proposed the election of Metropolitan Vladimir as President of the Republic of Moldova by the future Parliament.77 The short-lived partnership between the Metropolitanate of Chişinău and All Moldova and the PUM serves to prove the difficulty in evaluating the influence of the former on the society of the still young nation. The miscalculation of the Metropolitanate of Chişinău and All Moldova that it would be able to sway the vote of a significant portion of the electorate in favour of Pasat’s party serves to show the limits of its influence as a political actor. When Patriarch Kirill visited the country between 8 and 10 October 2011, he underlined the Republic of Moldova’s role in uniting Slavic and Latin culture, and even highlighted the Church’s role in conserving the Moldovan nation and language.78 Furthermore, he explicitly underscored the fact that the visit was ‘not a political one’ and did not have the ‘purpose of political consultations’.79 Still, Kirill met the entire Moldovan political leadership and received the highest distinction of the country – the Order of the Republic – from interim president Marian Lupu, while the visit provided the opportunity to launch the Romanian version of the website of the Russian Orthodox Church.80 The latter step also served as an opportunity for the Patriarchate in Moscow to publish a press release headed ‘The problem of the so-called Metropolitanate of Bessarabia’, in which it reiterated its stance on the conflict with its Romanian counterpart.81 Moreover, Kirill bestowed a Church order upon former president Vladimir Voronin in recognition of his support for the Church82 in what may have been a step in attempting to reforge the informal alliance between the PCRM and the Moldovan Orthodox Church. Likewise, this gesture may be viewed in the context of the communists’ new geopolitical discourse, with Voronin – unlike between 2003 and 2009, when he was in favour of EU integration – currently actively advocating for the Republic of Moldova to become a member state of the Eurasian Union proposed by President Vladimir Putin of Russia in October 2011. Furthermore, even the creation of the Romanian internet homepage of the Russian Orthodox Church was fraught with problems, since Moscow was not willing to designate

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the language as Romanian, while the church leadership in Chişinău – as mentioned earlier – has always refrained from using the term ‘Moldovan’. In the end, a flag was used on the website.83 Therefore, it appears safe to conclude that the Metropolitanate of Chişinău and All Moldova remains a political and social force to be reckoned with in the Republic of Moldova in the near future, despite the apparent setback of the 2010 elections. Moreover, the language issue serves to prove that the Russian Orthodox Church is not willing to accept identity-related positions of the Metropolitanate of Chişinău and All Moldova which represent an otherwise rare element of convergence with the stance of the Metropolitanate of Bessarabia. The latter point also highlights the methodological difficulty of regarding the Russian Orthodox Church and its Moldovan entity as a single, monolithic actor in the public life of the Republic of Moldova – an unavoidable approach, though, given the fact that rifts between the church leadership in Moscow and Chişinău only rarely surface publicly.

Legitimising an illegitimate regime? The ambiguous role of the Russian Orthodox Church in Transnistria While the Russian Orthodox Church’s position in Moldova has been increasingly challenged during the post-Soviet period, its domination in the breakaway republic of Transnistria has remained largely uncontested, not least, since the Romanian Orthodox Church does not wield any significant influence in this region with a Slavic majority (composed of Russians and Ukrainians), a more heavily Russified Moldovan community and an unequivocal geopolitical orientation of political and economic elites towards Moscow, the support of which has been instrumental for the survival of the region as a de facto separate state. The latest report of the UN Special Rapporteur on Freedom of Religion or Belief on the situation in the Republic of Moldova highlights ‘[t]he overly predominant place and attitude of the [Russian] Orthodox Church’ in Transnistria, citing ‘negative consequences on the enjoyment of freedom of religion or belief by religious minorities’.84 Notably, the Russian Orthodox Church – as well as the Metropolitanate of Chişinău and All Moldova – has been providing the political elites in Tiraspol, as well as the idea of Transnistrian statehood, with a certain degree of legitimacy. It is significant that, following a decision of the Holy Synod in Moscow, a vicariate was founded in Dubăsari in 1995 – to be turned into the eparchy of Tiraspol and Dubăsari three years later – thus creating a Church structure covering solely the territory of Transnistria, while remaining under the authority of the Moldovan Orthodox Church. More importantly, the former president of the ‘country’ Igor Smirnov (who headed Transnistria for over two decades) received several church distinctions, such as the orders of St George and St Andrew and the Golden Paschal Egg.85 Notably, critics argue that Metropolitan Vladimir had been the initiator of these gestures.86 Certainly, the latter’s stance towards Tiraspol has been ambiguous, not least

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since he did not refrain from visiting the breakaway region to discuss proposals with President Smirnov to introduce Orthodox religious education in local schools, upon which occasion Vladimir thanked the Transnistrian leadership for its ‘understanding attitude towards our holy Orthodox Church’.87 It is significant, though, that Patriarch Kirill – citing health problems – did not visit the Transnistrian region during his stay in the Republic of Moldova in autumn 2011, prompting speculations that he wanted to avoid having to meet Smirnov, who was campaigning to win a further term in office.88 By that time, however, the Transnistrian president was already predicted to lose the presidential elections in December, therefore making it possible that Kirill wished to spare the embarrassment of appearing to support a politician with little chance of keeping his post and little popular appeal.89 The bishopric of Tiraspol and Dubăsari has been more open in its recognition and support for the authorities of the Eastern region, with a plethora of gestures in this respect. An example was provided by Bishop Savva Volkov, who – upon the fifteenth anniversary of the foundation of his eparchy, in 2010 – conferred upon Smirnov the silver order ‘za blagie dela’ (‘for good causes’) for his significant role in restoring churches.90 Notably, the ceremony was attended by the entire leadership of the Moldovan Orthodox Church, including Metropolitan Vladimir. In another symbolic sign of recognition, the bishopric of Tiraspol and Dubăsari and the Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Transnistria agreed to ‘coordinate’ their cooperation regarding international contacts91 – notwithstanding the fact that Tiraspol has no network of diplomatic missions or any other form of representation abroad, with the exception of the unrecognised regions of Abkhazia and South Ossetia. Furthermore, the former Bishop of Transnistria, Justinian Ovchinnikov, is claimed to have taken part in a special meeting with representatives of the Ministry of National Security (the successor of the KGB in the region) in 2007, in reaction to the Romanian Orthodox Church’s announcement that it was – albeit only symbolically – reactivating the bishopric of Dubăsari and All Transnistria.92

Looking into the future Predicting future developments of Orthodox Christian life in the Republic of Moldova appears to be doomed to remain within the confines of speculation, given the complexity of the issues surrounding both the conflict between the two major actors – the Metropolitanate of Chişinău and All Moldova and the Metropolitanate of Bessarabia – as well as the apparently indissoluble links between religion and the identity of the young Eastern European state. Before dwelling upon the outlook thereof, it is worth pointing out that, at present, the only trouble-free Orthodox Church in the Republic of Moldova appears to be the Russian Orthodox Old-Rite Church, whose role in public life tends to be extremely reduced, since it has only fifteen parishes and just over 5,000 believers.93

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Clearly, a solution to the dispute regarding the question of canonical authority in the Republic of Moldova does not appear imminent. One of the ideas that have been circulated during the past two decades has been to create an autocephalous Moldovan Church – a project supported by President Petru Lucinschi in the late 1990s, but rejected at the time by the Ecumenical Patriarch of Constantinople.94 Yet autocephaly appears to constitute a neutral solution to the dilemma related to the otherwise recurrent question regarding the referential identity of Moldovan Orthodoxy from a historical, cultural and linguistic point of view. In fact, it has been argued that Orthodoxy in the Republic of Moldova will only reach its maturity by relieving itself both from Russian pressure and from Romanian influence.95 Furthermore, a unified autocephalous church could represent a factor of social cohesion in an otherwise divided country, although the institutionalisation of a new kind of relationship with the state would also be necessary.96 A first step in this direction could be the creation of a common assembly of bishops, belonging to both metropolitanates.97 Identifying a solution to the inter-church conflict appears to be of almost existential importance for Moldovan Orthodoxy in the long run. Institutional tensions as well as political involvement have been quoted as factors which could lead to a loss of trust in the Church and, consequently, to secularisation.98 Furthermore, the existence of parallel churches has led to instability at the lower echelons. Thus, certain priests have been known to change their allegiance solely as a result of conflicts with the hierarchy.99 An almost grotesque situation was recorded in 2005, when the Patriarchate of Kyiv – which is engaged in its own conflict with the Russian Orthodox Church – ordained the head of Condriţa Monastery, Filaret Pancu, as ‘Bishop of Făleşti district and of Eastern Moldova’, prompting his dismissal by Metropolitan Vladimir. Pancu had claimed that nine parishes had expressed their desire to join the Patriarchate in Kyiv – a fact disputed by the Moldovan Orthodox Church.100 Although the new ‘bishop’ appears not to have any kind of following, his move highlights the tensions that can develop in the conflict-ridden context of Orthodox life in the Republic of Moldova.101 Moreover, Pancu has been accused of campaigning against the priests from the Metropolitanate of Bessarabia,102 not least since the Ukrainian Orthodox Church is very suspicious of the – canonically questionable – involvement of the Romanian Orthodox Church in Ukraine, where it opened a parish as recently as 2011. The case for an autocephalous Moldovan Church appears to be weakened by further arguments. On the one hand, certain Romanian experts argue that a separate church would represent the religious expression of Moldovanism, thus cementing the idea that Moldovans form a separate nation.103 On the other hand, through the voice of Bishop Justinian, the Orthodox Church in Transnistria has in the past voiced its wish to remain part of the Russian Orthodox Church.104 Thus, the creation of an autocephalous church may generate new divisions among Moldovan believers, rather than overcome existing ones. Furthermore, it remains unclear whether and under what conditions

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the Russian Orthodox Church would recognise the independence of the Moldovan Church105 – an argument equally applicable to the position of the Romanian Orthodox Church in this matter. Therefore, in the near future, the prospects for Orthodox unity in the Republic of Moldova appear to remain quite slim.

Conclusion Since achieving independence, the Republic of Moldova has witnessed an ambivalent development of Orthodox Christian life. While it is undeniable that religious rites and traditions have (re)gained a key position in Moldovan public life, the existence of divergent views on the identity and geopolitical orientation of the country have cemented the division between the Metropolitanate of Chişinău and All Moldova and the Metropolitanate of Bessarabia, generated by linguistic and regional conflicts of the late 1980s and early 1990s. Therefore, Orthodox Christianity cannot as yet be considered a unifying factor of the young nation – a potential role that has further been undermined by the sometimes explicit (geo)political involvement of the Metropolitanate of Chişinău and All Moldova and the Patriarchate of Moscow and All Russia, as well as by the pan-Romanian discourse of the Metropolitanate of Bessarabia and the Romanian Orthodox Church. Unless Moldovan society is able to reach at least a minimal consensus regarding the finality of the state-building process it has been engaged in for the past two decades, religious life will most likely inevitably continue to mirror the faultlines and scars of a country that has yet to decide where its future lies.

Appendix 1

Religious leaders

•

Vladimir Cantarean (1952–), in office 1989– (initially as Bishop of Chişinău and Moldova), 1992–, Metropolitan of Chişinău and All Moldova106 Petru Păduraru (1946–), in office 1992– (initially as locum tenens Metropolitan of Bessarabia), Archbishop of Chişinău, Metropolitan of Bessarabia and Exarch of the Lands, 1995–.107

•

2

Biography

Title: Metropolitan of Chişinău and All Moldova. Vladimir Cantarean was born Nicolae Cantarean on 18 August 1952 in the village of Colencăuţi in the Chernivtsi region of the former Ukrainian Soviet Socialist Republic. Having graduated from technical school in 1970, he was ordained a celibate deacon in 1974 in Smolensk, subsequently being ordained

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a priest in 1976. In 1981, he was transferred to Chernivtsi, where he was cleric of St Nicholas Cathedral. He became secretary of the Eparchial Direction of Chernivtsi in 1983. Cantarean took monastic vows on the 29 November 1987 and was appointed Bishop of Chişinău and Moldova on 7 July 1989 by the Holy Synod of the Russian Orthodox Church. He was subsequently elevated to the rank of archbishop (1990) and metropolitan (1992).108 Title: Archbishop of Chişinău, Metropolitan of Bessarabia and Exarch of the Lands. Petru Păduraru was born Ion Păduraru on 24 October 1946 in the village of Ţiganca in the Cahul district of the former Moldavian Soviet Socialist Republic. After being admitted to the Theological Seminary ‘St Andrew’ in Odessa in 1967, he joined the ranks of the ‘Assumption of Mary’ Monastery in Odessa one year later, taking his monastic vows on 29 March 1969. He served as rector of the Theological Seminary and Academy in St Petersburg and as a parish priest in several villages in the Ukrainian Soviet Socialist Republic and returned to the Republic of Moldova in 1989, after being elevated to the rank of archimandrite and appointed to serve at the Metropolitan Cathedral in Chişinău. At the Constitutive Eparchial Assembly on 14 September 1992, he was chosen locum tenens Metropolitan of Bessarabia – a decision confirmed a week later by the Romanian Orthodox Church. After being chosen Metropolitan of Bessarabia by the Eparchial Assembly on 3 October 1995, the Holy Synod of the Romanian Orthodox Church granted him the title of Archbishop of Chişinău, Metropolitan of Bessarabia and Exarch of the Lands.109 3

Theological publications110

The Metropolitanate of Chişinău and All Moldova • • •

Altarul credinţei [Altar of Faith] Curierul orthodox [Orthodox Courier] Clopotniţa Moldovei/ Zvonitsa Moldovy [Bell Tower of Moldova].

The Metropolitanate of Bessarabia •

Misionarul [The Missionary].

4

Congregations111

Structure of the Metropolitanate of Chişinău and All Moldova: 6 eparchies (the Central Eparchy, the Eparchy of Cahul and Comrat, the Eparchy of Tiraspol and Dubăsari, the Eparchy of Ungheni and Nisporeni, the Eparchy of Bălţi and Făleşti, the Eparchy of Edineţ and Briceni), 41 deaneries, 1,281 parishes. Structure of the Metropolitanate of Bessarabia: 4 eparchies (the Eparchy of Chişinău, the Eparchy of Bălţi, the Eparchy of Southern Bessarabia, the Eparchy of Dubăsari and All Transnistria), 12 deaneries, 312 parishes.112

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Population113

The latest census in the Republic of Moldova was carried out in 2004 and – significantly – did not include the region of Transnistria. According to census data, 3,158,015 residents, out of a total of 3,383,332, embrace the Orthodox Christian faith, comprising 93.34 per cent of the population. However, the census provides no further data regarding to which Metropolitanate Orthodox believers are adherents. The second-largest religious group comprises Baptists, numbering 32,754 (0.96 per cent), followed by Seventh-day Adventists, 13,503 (0.39 per cent). Romanian-speakers number 2,638,125 of the population, making up 77.97 per cent, followed by Ukrainians, numbering 282,406 (8.34 per cent), Russians, numbering 201,218 (5.94 per cent) and Gagauz, numbering 147,500 (4.35 per cent). The latest census in Transnistria was carried out in 2004. Out of a population of 555,347, almost 90 per cent are Orthodox Christians, though the precise figure is difficult to obtain for an outsider. The region is more ethnically balanced than the rest of the Republic of Moldova – 31.9 per cent of the population are Moldovan, 30.4 per cent Russian and 28.8 per cent Ukrainian.114

Notes 1 According to the last census, carried out in 2004, over 93 per cent of the population of the Republic of Moldova is Orthodox Christian. For a more detailed picture, see http://www.statistica.md/public/files/Recensamint/Recensamintul_populatiei/ vol_1/10_Religia_Rne_ro.xls (accessed 29 March 2012). 2 Christopher Marsh, ‘The Religious Dimension of Post-Communist “Ethnic” Conflict’, Nationalities Papers, 2007, 5, p. 820. 3 Mircea Păcurariu, Geschichte der Rumänischen Orthodoxen Kirche, Erlangen: Oikonomia, 1994, p. 351. 4 Stelian Gomboş, Mitropolia Basarabiei, http://www.crestinortodox.ro/diverse/ mitropolia-basarabiei-135353.html (accessed 29 March 2012). 5 Ştefan Ciobanu, Cultura românească în Basarabia sub stăpânirea rusă [Romanian Culture in Bessarabia under Russian Domination], Chişinău: Gheorghe Asachi, 1992, p. 56. 6 Charles King, Moldovenii. România, Rusia şi politica culturală [The Moldovans. Romania, Russia and the Politics of Culture], Chişinău: Arc, 2002, p. 44. 7 The relegation to the status of a (simple) bishopric has been interpreted as a further tool of the Patriarchate of Moscow and All Russia to consolidate its control over the Orthodox Church in the MSSR. Lavinia Stan and Lucian Turcescu, Religie şi politică în România postcomunistă [Religion and Politics in Post-Communist Romania], Bucharest: Curtea Veche, 2008, pp. 116–17. 8 Romeo Cemârtan, Cazul Mitropoliei Basarabiei – interferenţe politice şi religioase [The Case of the Metropolitanate of Bessarabia – Political and Religious Connections], Chişinău: IPP, 2004, p. 15. 9 Ludmila Tihonov, Politica statului sovietic faţă de cultele din R.S.S. Moldovenească [The Policy of the Soviet State towards Religious Groups in the Moldavian SSR], Chişinău: Prut Internaţional, 2004, p. 103. 10 Cemârtan, Cazul Mitropoliei Basarabiei, pp. 14–15. 11 Mihail Panas, Istoria Bisericii Ortodoxe din Republica Moldova [The History of the Orthodox Church in the Republic of Moldova], Chişinău: Fundaţia Draghiştea, 2009, p. 162.

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12 According to the census carried out by Soviet authorities in 1989, only 14.4 per cent of Ukrainians, 12.3 per cent of Russians, 5.5. per cent of Gagauz and 9.3 per cent of Bulgarians claimed fluent knowledge of Moldovan. King, Moldovenii, p. 123. 13 Ibid,, pp. 155–8. 14 Panas, Istoria Bisericii Ortodoxe, p. 174. 15 Stan and Turcescu, Religie şi politică, pp. 117–18. 16 Sergiu Miron, Mitropolia Moldovei şi Mitropolia Basarabiei sau Dubluri Religioase [The Metropolitanate of Moldova and the Metropolitanate of Bessarabia or Religious Duplications], Chişinău: IDIS Viitorul, 2007, http://leader.viitorul.org/ public/208/ro/Mitropolia%20Moldovei%5B1%5D.doc (accessed 15 November 2009). 17 Panas, Istoria Bisericii Ortodoxe, pp. 175–6. 18 Ibid., pp. 182–3. 19 King, Moldovenii, p. 156. 20 Ibid., pp. 178–208. 21 Eckart Stratenschulte, Europas Politik nach Osten: Grundlagen – Erwartungen – Strategien, Hamburg: Merus Verlag, 2007, p. 61. 22 Patriarhia Română (ed.), Adevărul despre Mitropolia Basarabiei [The Truth about the Metropolitanate of Bessarabia], Bucharest: Editura Institutului Biblic şi de Misiune al Bisericii Ortodoxe Române, 1993, p. 22. 23 Ibid., p. 23. 24 Cemârtan, Cazul Mitropoliei Basarabiei, pp. 20, 26. 25 Dumitru Cotelea, ‘One Country, Two Orthodox Churches. The Tautological Identity of Moldova’ (paper presented at the interdisciplinary conference ‘Orthodox Christianity in Europe – Borders Constructed and Deconstructed’, Nijmegen, 12–14 March 2010). 26 Cemârtan, Cazul Mitropoliei Basarabiei, p. 21, Stan and Turcescu, Religie şi politică, p. 118. 27 Stan and Turcescu, Religie şi politică, p. 118. 28 Cotelea, ‘One Country, Two Orthodox Churches’. 29 William van den Bercken, ‘The Russian Orthodox Church, State and Society in 1991–1993: The Rest of the Story’, Religion, State and Society, 1994, 2, p. 179. 30 Lavinia Stan and Lucian Turcescu, ‘Church–State Conflict in Moldova: The Bessarabian Metropolitanate’, Communist and Post-Communist Studies, 2003, 4, 443–65. 31 An anecdotal illustration of the above-mentioned rift can be identified in one of the first fighting grounds between the Metropolitanate of Bessarabia and the Metropolitanate of Chişinău and All Moldova: the Faculty of Theology, which was originally part of the State University of Moldova. Its first dean, Petru Buburuz, a follower of Bishop Petru Păduraru, was dismissed by the Metropolitanate of Moldova shortly after he opted for allegiance towards the Romanian Orthodox Church. Yet when a new dean, Mihail Panas, was appointed, both the administration of the university and the students boycotted the move, leading to the intervention of the government of the Republic of Moldova, which decided to separate the Faculty of Theology from the university and to place it under the direct authority of the Metropolitanate of Chişinău and All Moldova in October 1993. Panas, Istoria Bisericii Ortodoxe, p. 183. 32 Monica Heintz, ‘Tolerance, Conformity, and Moral Relativism: Cases from Moldova’, in The Postsocialist Religious Question. Faith and Power in Central Asia and East-Central Europe, Chris Hann et al. (eds), Berlin: Lit Verlag, 2006, p. 199. 33 Stan and Turcescu, ‘Church–State Conflict in Moldova’. 34 European Court of Human Rights (ed.), Case of Metropolitan Church of Bessarabia and Others v. Moldova (Application no. 45701/99). Judgement, Strasburg: European Court of Human Rights, 2001, pp. 22–6.

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35 ‘Declaraţia mitingului de protest al PPCD “Cu privire la încercările de menţinere a stării de ocupaţie”’ [The Declaration of the Protest Demonstration of the PPCD: ‘Regarding Attempts of Maintaining the Occupation Status’], http://www.edemocracy.md/parties/docs/ppcd/200309282/ (accessed 28 March 2010). 36 Heintz, ‘Tolerance, Conformity, and Moral Relativism’, p. 203. 37 Gheorghe Badea, ‘De ce nu avem episcopi în Basarabia’ [Why we do not have bishops in Bessarabia], 13 April 2010, http://www.mitropoliabasarabiei.ro/?p=343 (accessed 15 October 2010). 38 Gomboş, Mitropolia Basarabiei. 39 Ecaterina Deleu, ‘Amvonul trebuie să rămână locul de propovăduire exclusivă a Cuvântului lui Dumnezeu’ [The pulpit should exclusively remain the place of preaching the word of God], 27 March 2009, http://www.flux.md/editii/200923/ articole/6101/ (accessed 15 October 2010). 40 Cf. Miron, Mitropolia Moldovei, p. 4. 41 Badea, ‘De ce nu avem episcopi în Basarabia’. 42 Radu Preda, Ortodoxia & ortodoxiile. Studii social-teologice [Orthodoxy & Orthodoxies. Social-Theological Studies], Cluj Napoca: Eikon, 2010, pp. 251–2. 43 Badea, ‘De ce nu avem episcopi în Basarabia’. 44 Preda, Ortodoxia & ortodoxiile, pp. 252–3. 45 United States of America Department of State, ‘International Religious Freedom Report 2010. Moldova’, 17 November 2010, http://www.state.gov/j/drl/rls/ irf/2010/148963.htm (accessed 12 December 2010). 46 Andrei Avram, ‘Konkurrierende orthodoxe Metropolien in der Republik Moldau’, G2W, 1, 2011, p. 17. 47 Gomboş, Mitropolia Basarabiei. 48 Preda, Ortodoxia & ortodoxiile, p. 77. 49 The Russian Orthodox Church, ‘Problema aşa-numitei mitropolii a Basarabiei’ [The problem of the so-called Metropolitanate of Bessarabia], 28 September 2011, http://www.patriarchia.ru/md/db/text/1646865.html (accessed 29 March 2012). 50 Cotelea, ‘One Country, Two Orthodox Churches’. 51 ‘De ce nu a vizitat Patriarhul Transnistria?’[Why did the Patriarch not visit Transnistria?], 10 November 2011, http://www.europalibera.org/content/article/24355517.html (accessed 12 January 2012). 52 ‘Country visit of the Special Rapporteur on freedom of religion or belief, Heiner Bielefeldt, to the Republic of Moldova (1–8 September 2011)’, press statement, 8 September 2011, http://www.ohchr.org/EN/NewsEvents/Pages/DisplayNews. aspx?NewsID=11354&LangID=E (accessed 29 March 2012). 53 ‘Declaraţia Mitropoliei Chişinăului şi a Întregii Moldove pe marginea raportului dl Heiner Bielefeldt, reprezentant ONU’ [Declaration of the Metropolitanate of Chişinău and All Moldova regarding the report of Mr Heiner Bielefeldt, UN representative], press statement, 9 September 2011, http://mitropolia.md/main/ show_article/5914 (accessed 29 March 2012). 54 Ghenadie Mocanu, ‘Tensiunile sociale în urma înregistrării Ligii Islamice în R. Moldova. E timpul pentru o dezbatere profundă asupra legii privind cultele religioase?’ [Social tensions following the registration of the Islamic League in the R[epublic of] Moldova. Is it the time for a profound debate on the law on religious denominations?’], IDIS ‘Viitorul’ and Friedrich Ebert Stiftung Policy Brief 4, 2011, p. 1. 55 ‘Demersul Mitropoliei Moldovei către Primăria Municipiului Chişinău privind concertul sectarilor’ [Request of the Metropolitanate of Moldova to the City Hall of Chişinău Municipality regarding the concert of sect members], http://www. ortodoxia.md/tezaurul-vizitatorului-nostru/1146-demersul-mitropoliei-moldoveicatre-primaria-municipiului-chiinau-privind-concertul-sectarilor (accessed 5 February 2012).

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56 ‘Adventiştii şi-au ţinut concertul la marginea Chişinăului, în timp ce ortodocşii protestau în centru’ [The Adventists held their concert at the periphery of Chişinău, while the Orthodox protested in the centre], http://unimedia.md/?mod=news&id=12593 (accessed 16 August 2009). 57 Mocanu, ‘Tensiunile sociale’, p. 4. 58 Radu Vrabie, Ion Preaşcă, Iurie Pîntea and Oazu Nantoi, ‘Percepţia Rusiei în Republica Moldova’ [The Perception of Russia in the Republic of Moldova], in The Perception of Russia in Romania, Republic of Moldova and Ukraine. Percepţia Rusiei în România, Republica Moldova şi Ucraina, Iulian Chifu, Oazu Nantoi and Oleksandr Shushko (eds), Bucharest: Curtea Veche, 2010, p. 78. 59 Ibid., pp. 77–8. 60 ‘Mitropolitul Moldovei, Vladimir, face joc dublu pe direcţia Bucureşti – Moscova’ [The Metropolitan of Moldova, Vladimir, is playing a double game on the Bucharest – Moscow route], http://www.basarabeni.ro/stiri/interviu/mitropolitulmoldovei-vladimir-face-joc-dublu-pe-directia-bucuresti-moscova-103/ (accessed 8 April 2008). 61 Support for the PCRM is particularly high among older voters as well – another reason why the capital of sympathy the party earned by repairing churches was politically significant. Vrabie et al., ‘Percepţia Rusiei’, p. 77. 62 Cemârtan, Cazul Mitropoliei Basarabiei, pp. 47–8. 63 Octavian Racu, ‘Patriarhia rusă şi Mitropolia Moldovei vorbesc în limbi diferite?’ [Do the Russian Patriarchate and the Metropolitanate of Moldova speak different languages?], 16 September 2011, http://vox.publika.md/social/ patriarhia-rusa-si-mitropolia-moldovei-vorbesc-in-limbi-diferite-82231.html (accessed 29 March 2012). 64 UNDP Moldova (ed.), National Human Development Report 2010/2011. Republic of Moldova – from Social Exclusion towards Inclusive Human Development, Chişinău: Nova Imprim SRL, 2011, p. 118. 65 Vrabie et al., ‘Percepţia Rusiei’, p. 77. 66 UNDP Moldova (ed.), Raportul naţional al dezvoltării umane Republica Moldova. Dincolo de tranziţie: De la Excluziune Socială spre o Dezvoltare Umană Incluzivă [National Human Development Report Republic of Moldova. Beyond Transition: From Social Exclusion towards Inclusive Human Development], unpublished draft, http://sport.gov.md/docs/2010/1st_Draft_Report_Feb_2010.doc (accessed 15 January 2012). 67 ‘Mitropolia Moldovei condamnă decizia guvernului de a acorda zi liberă de Crăciunul pe stil nou’ [The Metropolitanate of Moldova condemns the government’s decision to grant a holiday on the new style Christmas [Day]], 11 December 2009, http://www.romanialibera.ro/actualitate/mapamond/mitropoliamoldovei-condamna-decizia-guvernului-de-a-acorda-zi-libera-de-craciunul-pestil-nou-172348.html (accessed 29 March 2012). 68 UNDP Moldova, Raportul naţional. 69 The Russian Orthodox Church, ‘Svyateyshiy Patriarh Kirill: Moldova – neotyemlemaya chast’ Svyatoy Rus’’ [Holy Patriarch Kirill: Moldova – integral part of the Holy Rus’], August 21, 2010, http://www.patriarchia.ru/db/text/1254808.html (accessed 15 October 2011). 70 Avram, ‘Konkurrierende orthodoxe Metropolien’, p. 18. 71 Partidul Umanist din Moldova, ‘Proiectul Platformei Electorale a Partidului Umanist din Moldova pentru alegerile parlamentare anticipate 2010. Cu încredere în neamul de bună credinţă vom face ordine în stat’ [The project of the Electoral Programme of the Humanistic Party of Moldova for the early 2010 parliamentary elections. With trust in the people of good faith we will bring order to the state], Chişinău, 2010.

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72 Avram, ‘Konkurrierende orthodoxe Metropolien’, p. 18. 73 ‘Country visit of the Special Rapporteur’. 74 Interestingly though, the Roman Catholic diocese of Chişinău voiced support for the measure, adding that each Christian confession should have the right to educate the children in its flock. ‘Biserica romano-catolică susţine ideea predării “Bazelor Ortodoxiei” în şcoli’ [The Roman-Catholic Church supports the idea of teaching the ‘Basics of Orthodoxy’ in schools], Curierul Ortodox, 2010, 5, p. 3. However, the Roman Catholic Church is no significant actor in Moldovan religious life, having only 4,645 believers in the whole country and 17 parishes. See census results (note 1, above) and http://www.catolicmold.md/istor-md/ (accessed 29 March 2012). 75 Pavel Păcuraru, ‘Exclusiv: Preoţii despre proiectul Pasat’ [Exclusive: Priests about the Pasat project], 18 June 2010, http://www.timpul.md/articol/exclusiv-preotiidespre-proiectul-pasat-12324.html (accessed 15 October 2010). 76 Metropolitanate of Chişinău and All Moldova, ‘Declaraţia Sinodului Bisericii Ortodoxe din Moldova’ [Declaration of the Synod of the Orthodox Church of Moldova], 1 November 2010, http://www.mitropolia.md/main/show_article/3492 (accessed 5 November 2010). 77 ‘Pasat propune candidatura mitropolitului Vladimir la funcţia de şef al statului’ [Pasat proposes the candidacy of Metropolitan Vladimir for the office of head of state], 19 November 2010, http://www.flux.md/articole/10832/ (accessed 19 November 2010). 78 ‘De ce nu a vizitat Patriarhul Transnistria?’. 79 The Russian Orthodox Church, ‘Svyateyshiy Patriarh Kirill vstretilsya s ispolnyayushim obyazannosti Prezidenta Respubliki Moldova, M. I. Lupu’ [Holy Patriarch Kirill met with interim President of the Republic of Moldova, M. I. Lupu], 9 October 2011, http://www.patriarchia.ru/db/text/1643766.html (accessed 15 October 2011). 80 Eduard Ţugui, ‘Geopolitica Ortodoxiei şi relaţia stat–biserică în Republica Moldova’ [The geopolitics of Orthodoxy and the state–church relationship in the Republic of Moldova], IDIS ‘Viitorul’ and Friedrich Ebert Stiftung Policy Brief, 2011, 6, pp. 4–5. 81 The Russian Orthodox Church, ‘Problema aşa-numitei mitropolii a Basarabiei’ [The problem of the so-called Metropolitanate of Bessarabia], 28 September 2011, http://www.patriarchia.ru/md/db/text/1646865.html (accessed 15 October 2011). 82 ‘Voronin a plâns, decorat de patriarhul Kirill’ [Voronin cried, decorated by Patriarch Kirill], October 10, 2011 http://www.jurnal.md/ro/news/voronin-a-plans-decoratde-patriarhul-kirill-211376/ (accessed 15 October 2011). 83 Racu, ‘Patriarhia rusă şi Mitropolia Moldovei’. 84 ‘Country visit of the Special Rapporteur’. 85 Vlad Cubreacov, ‘Mitropolia Chişinăului şi a “întregii Moldove” şi separatismul transnistrean îşi dau din nou mâna’ [The Metropolitanate of Chişinău and ‘All Moldova’ and Transnistrian separatism shake hands again], 30 October 2009, http://www.flux.md/editii/200992/articole/8028/ (accessed 9 January 2011). 86 Dan Dungaciu, interview with Romanian Global News, 13 August 2007, http:// politicom.moldova.org/news/patriarhul-geopolitica-si-mitropolia-basarabiei66081-rom.html (accessed 14 December 2009). 87 Vlad Cubreacov, ‘Mitropolitul Vladimir la sfat cu Igor Smirnov’ [Metropolitan Vladimir in talks with Igor Smirnov], 14 May 2010, http://www.flux.md/ editii/201018/articole/9550/ (accessed 15 October 2011). 88 ‘De ce nu a vizitat Patriarhul Transnistria?’. 89 Smirnov did in fact lose the elections in the breakaway region and was replaced by Evgheni Shevchuk in January 2012.

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90 The Russian Orthodox Church, ‘V Pridnestrov’e otmetili 15-letie Tiraspol’skoDubossarskoy eparhii’ [Fifteenth anniversary of the eparchy of TiraspolDubossary celebrated in Transnistria], 16 September 2010, http://www.patriarchia. ru/db/text/1276744.html (accessed 15 October 2011). 91 ‘MID Pridnestrovya i Tiraspol’sko-Dubossarskaya eparhia RPC dogovorilis’ o sotrudnichestve’ [MFA of Transnistria and the eparchy of Tiraspol and Dubossary of the ROC agreed on cooperation], 19 July 2011, http://www.regnum.ru/news/1427091.html (accessed 12 September 2011). 92 Igor Burciu, ‘Separatiştii de la Tiraspol declanşează un nou ‘război religios’ la Nistru’ [Separatists from Tiraspol start new ‘religious war’ on Dnestr], Flux, 2 November 2007, p. 4. 93 Alexandru Magola, ‘Biserici, confesiuni şi culte’ [Church, Confessions and Cults], in Republica Moldova: ediţie consacrată împlinirii a 650 de ani de la întemeierea statului moldovenesc [The Republic of Moldova: Edition Dedicated to the Anniversary of 650 Years since the Establishment of the Moldovan State], Gheorghe Duca et al. (eds), Chişinău: Enciclopedia Moldovei, 2009, pp. 634–7. 94 Dungaciu, interview with Romanian Global News. 95 Preda, Ortodoxia & ortodoxiile, p. 258. 96 Ţugui, ‘Geopolitica Ortodoxiei’, pp. 7–8. 97 Cotelea, ‘One Country, Two Orthodox Churches’. 98 Sergiu Panainte, ‘Secularism in Republic of Moldova – Politics of Religion or Religious Politics: Where do we Draw the Boundaries’, Romanian Journal of Political Science, 2006, 2, p. 98. 99 Cotelea, ‘One Country, Two Orthodox Churches’. 100 Igor Pînzaru, ‘Arhimandritul Filaret Pancu urzeşte o nouă schismă în Biserica Ortodoxă din Moldova’ [Archimandrite Filaret Pancu plans a new schism within the Orthodox Church of Moldova], 26 August 2005, http://mdn.md/index.php?v iew=viewarticle&articleid=1571 (accessed 8 January 2010). 101 In fact, Filaret Pancu’s career perfectly illustrates how clergy can freely change their institutional allegiance in the Republic of Moldova. Before joining the Ukrainian Orthodox Church, Pancu had been a priest with the Metropolitanate of Chişinău and All Moldova, before switching to the Metropolitanate of Bessarabia and then back to the former. 102 Vitalie Goncearov, ‘Schismaticii ucraineni atacă BOR şi Mitropolia Basarabiei’ [Ukrainian schismatics attack ROC and the Metropolitanate of Bessarabia], Arcaşul, September–November 2007, p. 11. 103 Dungaciu, interview with Romanian Global News. 104 Vladimir Bukarskiy, ‘Vozmozhna li avtokefaliya Moldavskoy Cerkvy?’ [Would autocephaly of the Moldovan Church be possible?], 14 January 2008, http://www. religare.ru/2_49391.html (accessed 15 October 2011). 105 Ţugui, ‘Geopolitica Ortodoxiei’, p. 7. 106 Mihail Panas, Istoria Bisericii Ortodoxe din Republica Moldova [The History of the Orthodox Church in the Republic of Moldova], Chişinău: Fundaţia Draghiştea, 2009, p. 174. 107 ‘Curriculum Vitae. Petru Păduraru (Ion Păduraru) – Arhiepiscop al Chişinăului, Mitropolit al Basarabiei şi Exarh al Plaiurilor’ [Curriculum Vitae – Archbishop of Chişinău, Metropolitan of Bessarabia and Exarch of the Lands], http://www. mitropoliabasarabiei.ro/?page_id=97, accessed April 14, 2012. 108 ‘ÎPS Vladimir, Mitropolitul al Chişinăului şi al Întregii Moldove ‘ [H[is] H[igh] H[oliness] Vladimir, Metropolitan of Chişinău and All Moldova], http://mitropolia.md/categories/list?parent_id=5, accessed April 14, 2012. Panas, Istoria Bisericii Ortodoxe, pp. 174–5. 109 ‘Curriculum Vitae. Petru Păduraru’.

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110 Data from http://www.mitropolia.md, http://curierulortodox.info, http://www. ormedia.ru, http://www.mitropoliabasarabiei.ro (accessed 29 March 2012). 111 Information on the number of clergy or believers does not appear to be available. 112 Data from http://www.mitropolia.md/categories/show/15, http://www.diocesetiras.org/page.php?id=13, http://mitropoliabasarabiei.md/links/4 and http://www. state.gov/j/drl/rls/irf/2010/148963.htm (accessed 29 March 2012). 113 Data from the 2004 census. For more information see http://www.statistica.md/ public/files/Recensamint/Recensamintul_populatiei/vol_1/10_Religia_Rne_ro.xls and http://www.statistica.md/public/files/Recensamint/Recensamintul_populatiei/vol_1/8_Nation_Limba_vorbita__materna_ro.xls (accessed 29 March 2012). 114 ‘Itogi perepisi naselenya Pridnestrovia’ [Results of the census of the population of Transnistria], 15 August 2006, http://www.7kanal.com/news.php3?id=212411 (accessed 15 April 2012).

22 The Macedonian Orthodox Church Todor Cepreganov, Maja Angelovska-Panova and Dragan Zajkovski

The dissolution of the Socialist Federal Republic of Yugoslavia was the result of deep economic and political contradictions which socialism could not resolve without democracy, human rights and a market economy. In addition, many foreign factors contributed also to the process of dismemberment of the country. The turning point took place in January 1990 when the XIV Congress of the Communist Party of Yugoslavia led to political transition and a reconsideration of the position of Macedonia in the federation. This political process was paralleled by the Serbian Orthodox Church (SOC) strengthening its jurisdictional claims over the Macedonian Orthodox Church (MOC). During the post-1990 period the MOC became an integrative part of the social and political life of the Republic of Macedonia. This chapter focuses on the activity of the Macedonian Orthodox Church after the country’s political independence and discusses relations between the MOC with the SOC and other religious communities in the Republic of Macedonia.

Surviving the fall of communism According to research conducted by the Consortium of the Institutions in the Former Yugoslavia in the mid-1990s, 86 per cent of Macedonians declared themselves members of the Macedonian Orthodox Church with 51 per cent defining themselves as deeply religious.1 According to official sources, in 1991, the MOC had 1,355,816 members, representing 66 per cent of the total number of citizens in the Republic of Macedonia.2 The independence of the Republic of Macedonia in 1990 began the process of democratisation of the country’s social and political life. Among the first institutions that felt the benefits of democracy were the MOC and its clergy. The status of the religious communities found its place in the first Macedonian Constitution adopted on 17 November 1991, which stated in Article 19 that The freedom of religious confession is guaranteed. The right to express one’s faith freely and publicly, individually or with others is guaranteed. The Macedonian Orthodox Church and other religious communities and groups are separate from the state and equal before the law.

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The Macedonian Orthodox Church and other religious communities and groups are free to establish schools and other social and charitable institutions, by way of a procedure regulated by law.3 Until 1990 it was unimaginable for a person from the high political establishment in Macedonia to attend a religious celebration. This situation changed after the first democratic multi-party election, which was held in November 1990. In January of the following year, while party discussions were underway to elect a new President of Macedonia, the name of Metropolitan Mihail (Metodij Gogov) of Povardarska-Veles was put forward as a potential candidate.4 Metropolitan Mihail, later Archbishop of the MOC, publicly expressed his thanks for the nomination; however, he declined the offer mentioning his unwillingness to replace church duty with a state position. The significance of the MOC in the life of the new state was acknowledged by the presence of Metropolitan Gavril (Ghorgi Miloshev) at the meeting of the Macedonian Parliament on 20 March 1991 when the mandate of the first government of the Republic of Macedonia was assigned. For the first time in Macedonian history, a member of the hierarchy attended the election of a new government, and immediately after parliamentary voting, Prime Minister Nikola Kljusev publicly kissed the hand of the MOC hierarch. Since then, hierarchs have continued to attend important events in the political life of Macedonia. At the same time, relations between the MOC and state institutions have become more visible from the presence of politicians at religious services during Orthodox celebrations. After 1990 it has become a practice for both the President and the Prime Minister of the Republic of Macedonia to attend the festive liturgy at Christmas and Easter. This practice also took place during the presidency of Boris Trajkovski (1999–2004), who, although a member of the Methodist Church, attended the Christmas and Easter celebrations at St Clement of Ohrid Cathedral in Skopje.

Relations with the Serbian Orthodox Church Religious-political events post-1990 have been dictated by the conflict between the MOC and the SOC regarding the MOC’s autocephalous status. This dispute has deep political and historical roots. After 1945 the SOC discarded all initiatives to transform the Ohrid Archbishopric (OA) into an autocephalous Macedonian Orthodox Church, including that of the 1958 Clergy–Laity Assembly in Ohrid. Less than ten years later, in 1967, the unilateral declaration of the autocephaly of the MOC represented a national decision under the liberal leadership of the Communist Party in Macedonia, led by Krste Crvenkovski (1964–74)5 indicating the close relations between the nation and the Church in the Orthodox world which were central to the dispute. The disintegration of Yugoslavia, followed by sovereignty announcements of its former republics, contributed to the tension and added a new dimension

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to the dispute. In 1994 the Synod of SOC presented an ultimatum to the MOC ‘to return to the canonical order’ and ‘enter into the church canons’. The ultimatum was followed by the SOC’s designation of Bishop Pahomie Catchich as ‘administrator of the parishes in Macedonia’.6 Pahomie put forward threats of criminal accusations against the MOC which would be investigated by the Great Ecclesiastical Court of the Holy Assembly of Bishops of the Serbian Orthodox Church. The SOC’s claims came at a time of evident political tension indicated by disturbances on the Serbian–Macedonian border. However, in order to demonstrate strong unity, on 31 October and 1 November 1994 the MOC’s Clergy and Laity Assembly promulgated a new constitution for the Macedonian Orthodox Church which declared the autocephaly of the MOC, reaffirmed as ‘the Holy, Catholic and Apostolic Church which preserves dogmas, the canons and the unity of the worship space in the Eastern Orthodox Church’.7 Opposing interference into the MOC’s internal affairs, Metropolitan Mihail, underlined the ancient origin of the Ohrid Archbishopric and claimed that ‘our Orthodox believers should remember that the Serbian, Greek and Bulgarian churches with respect to Macedonia do not work as churches but as advocates of the ideals of a Greater Serbia, a Greater Greece and a Greater Bulgaria’. Negotiations on the so-called Niš agreement establishing religious unity between the SOC and the MOC on 17 May 2002, through which the MOC was recognised as autonomous rather than autocephalous and its title was replaced by that of the ‘Ohrid Archbishopric’, caused considerable turmoil on the Macedonian side. As a result of public pressure on 6 June 2002 the draft of the Niš agreement was unanimously rejected by the Synod of the MOC. On the same day, in an interview for the weekly magazine Start, President Boris Trajkovski linked losing the MOC’s autocephaly with losing the state’s status. Two weeks later relations between the SOC and the MOC reached another impasse when Metropolitan Jovan Vraniškovski declared that he was separating his diocese of Povardarska-Veles from the MOC, joining instead the ecumenical unity of the SOC. On 8 July the Synod of the MOC demoted Metropolitan Jovan from his position. The SOC renewed negotiations with the new schismatic MOC acknowledging an ‘Ohrid Archbishopric’ under the leadership of Jovan Vraniškovski. On 12 November 2009 in order to maintain unity, the Synod of the MOC changed the Church Constitution by which the MOC added to its name the title of the ‘Ohrid Archbishopric’, with the Church being officially titled as the Macedonian Orthodox Church – Ohrid Archbishopric (MOC-OA). According to the Synod, the addition to the name was in full accordance with the ‘centuries old tradition of Orthodox churches whose names contain historical and relevant attributes of every local church’. Furthermore, the MOC-OA changed its flag to include the image of the Holy Mother Church-Perivlepta, which is now St Sophia Church in Ohrid, as the seat of the Ohrid Archbishopric. The Synod appealed to all Orthodox churches for the sake of ‘evangelical love’ to provide ‘full acceptance of the MOC among local Orthodox churches’.

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The complexity of the MOC Church dispute has had a wider international dimension within the Orthodox world. On several occasions, the Russian Orthodox Church (ROC) offered its mediation in the dispute between the MOC and the SOC. During a meeting in Skopje on 7 December 2009 with the Macedonian leadership, Nikolaj Balashov, the ROC’s representative, reiterated some of the previous issues by suggesting the status of autonomy for the MOC rather than autocephaly.8 It became evident that the ROC, taking into account not only close ties with the SOC, but also problems with the Ukrainian Orthodox Church and tendencies of autocephaly and canonical separation within its own Church, was not prepared to depart from traditional canonical principles on this issue. Nevertheless, the meeting between the Macedonian President Gjorgje Ivanov and the Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew in April 2011 resulted in the announcement that the Ecumenical Patriarchate would attempt to initiate a new proposal to restore the dialogue between the Macedonian and the Serbian Orthodox Church.9 In the Republic of Macedonia, the SOC does not have a special diocese. Citizens of Serbian ethnic origin perform their religious services in a number of MOC churches. The same situation exists for those Macedonian priests who perform the liturgy in Serbia and Croatia. This lack of official recognition between churches has recently led Serbian Orthodox priests to enter the Republic of Macedonia as civilians and to perform religious rites in private houses; according to the country’s law, this practice is considered an offence.

Religious education In the period after 1989 religious education in Macedonia, within the formal educational system, scarcely existed. This situation was certainly a consequence of the previous social system with its dominant atheist tendencies. Young people and students in elementary and secondary education mainly gained their basic knowledge of Christianity at home and through thematic units, related to the educational activity of the brothers Sts Cyril and Methodius and their disciples Sts Clement and Naum of Ohrid. More concrete undertakings in relation to religious education have taken place since the independence of Macedonia, with teaching in this area in some of the Macedonian churches. In particular, a significant contribution to religious instruction designed primarily for Christian believers was given by Fr Stephan Sandzhakovski in Kalishte, Struga, and Fr Jovan Takovski. The latter translated a number of prayer books and introduced regular lectures at St Demetrius Church and St George Church in Krivi Dol, Skopje. On 3 October 2002 Nenad Novkovski, Minister of Education and Science, introduced a religious education option in the third grade. In relation to this decision the Constitutional Court initiated proceedings on the grounds that the Constitution of the Republic of Macedonia stipulated a principle of separation of state and religion and the Primary Education Act prohibits religious organisation or activity in primary schools.

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On 3 and 4 October 2005 the Archbishopric’s Clergy and Laity Assembly (ACLA) of the MOC, at its annual meeting, held at the Virgin Mary Monastery in Kalishte, Struga, passed a resolution which expressed the need to introduce religious education in primary and secondary education in Macedonia. The ACLA notes a slowdown in this very important process and appeals to the competent structures in the Church for a greater engagement, and in the State for a greater understanding, of the need to introduce religion into state educational institutions.10 A year later the Council for Inter-religious Cooperation proposed a concrete initiative to introduce religious instruction across state education with the incorporation of the Orthodox Theological Faculty and the Faculty of Islamic Sciences within state universities.11 Although the initiative divided the general public, it received government support, with religious education becoming mandatory in primary schools.12 The official instruction of ‘religion’ in state schools began in September 2008; however in the same month the Liberal Democratic Party took the decision to the Constitutional Court. On 14 April 2009, the Constitutional Court abolished Article 26 of the Law on Primary Education, which previously allowed state religious education. Instead, religious communities were allowed to have their own religious schools.13 The debate over religious education illustrates both political and ideological divisions within Macedonian society. A compromise solution was found in introducing ‘Ethics of Religions’ courses as a substitute for religious instruction in which students were taught a wide range of religious subjects. In the 2011/12 academic year, ‘Ethics of Religions’ was selected by 46 per cent of the students, an increase from 33 per cent in the previous academic year.14 Following the example of other churches, the MOC-OA began to establish its own religious media. Bishop Pimen (Sotir Ilievski) was charged by the MOC-OA Synod to find the means to do so and proposed the opening of a national television station. The station would not have a commercial character but would exclusively broadcast religious and educational programmes. In addition, the MOC-OA opened a local religious radio station in Ohrid, informing the public of church traditions and the lives of saints. Since 2010 religious programmes have been an integral part of the programmes broadcast by Radio Ohrid and the local Ohrid television station TVM.15 In 1990, the first translation of the Bible into contemporary Macedonian was officially approved by the MOC. A paraphrased translation illustrated with pictures of important events and personalities from the Old and New Testaments was published in 2001 with the support of the Biblical Association of Macedonia in cooperation with the United Bible Society to address the needs of younger Bible readers. A fully revised translation of the Bible was published in 2007.

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The MOC-OA has ten dioceses, seven within the Republic of Macedonia and three in its diaspora. Each diocese has an active publishing presence, with most of its works translations, especially of Poukite na svetite otci [Lessons of the Church Fathers]; however, it also publishes original texts. In addition, the dioceses publish a number of periodicals. The diocese of Povardarie publishes the journal Pravoslavna svetlina [Orthodox Light] and the journal Troichnik [Troichnik], the latter under the direct editorial supervision since 2003 of Metropolitan Agatangel (Atanas Stankovski). The diocese of Skopje issues the magazine Pravoslaven pat [Orthodox Path], which has a wide audience throughout the MOC. In addition, the St Kliment Ohridski Orthodox Theological Faculty publishes its Godishen zbornik na trudovi [Annual Proceedings] with contributions from the professorial body, while the Association of Students in Orthodox Theology publishes the journal Pravoslaven blagovesnik [Orthodox Annunciation], stimulating debate on theological themes. The library of the Orthodox Theological Faculty has over 9,000 publications on theology, philosophy and history; a significant contribution was made by Metropolitan Gavril, who donated around 2,000 books and a number of old manuscripts. In addition, interest in the study of religion outside the theological context has been evident in the establishment of a group named ‘The History of Religions and Cults in Macedonia’ which brings together academic staff and postgraduate students at the Institute of National History in Skopje.

Monasticism During the communist period, and particularly in the 1980s, Macedonian monasticism was extremely limited, with a small number of monasteries of two or three monks who regularly changed their abode. At a time when the Orthodox faith was marginalised in society, Gavril Svetogorec, who spent ten years at the Holy Mount of Athos, played an important role in restoring the monastic liturgical life. Until his death on 12 January 1990, Gavril was an active promoter of monastic renewal in Macedonia and became the spiritual father of many faithful, introducing them to the practice of Jesus prayer.16 His legacy was followed in the 1990s by Jovan Takovski and Stephan Sandzhakovski, who gathered many adherents, especially among the younger population, some of whom would become students at the Orthodox Theological Faculty in Skopje. An active monastic renewal became more evident during the next year. In 1995, Bishop Naum (Zvonimir Ilievski) founded a monastic brotherhood at the Monastery of the Holy Mother of God, in the village Veljusa, Strumica, while Archimandrite Partenij and Fr Ilarion founded in the Bigor Monastery, western Macedonia. In 1997 a large number of monasteries were opened such as St Michael Archangel Monastery in Varosh, Prilep, and those in Zrze, Slepche, Treskavec, Zhurche and Ljubanci. At present, the MOC has 37 functioning monasteries with a population of around 150 monks and nuns.

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Monks and nuns are engaged in liturgical practices and manual work supporting the economic survival of their communities, some are specialists in particular activities, such as preserving literary and artistic works, translating the writings of the Church Fathers, restoring Byzantine paintings, organising exhibition of church icons (Marko Monastery) and producing garments for church officials (Rajchica Monastery). The monasteries in Zrze and Tiveriopol are of national historical significance in holding treasures and doing archaeological excavations.

Church restitution In October 2005, the ACLA took notice of the 1998 Law on Restitution (Zakon za denacionalizacija) passed by the Macedonian government and requested the return of all mobile and immobile objects confiscated during the communist regimes including estates, icons, manuscripts and relics. The ACLA agreed that if a particular item required special protection and care, it could remain on the premises of the relevant state institution; however, it should be clearly identified as belonging to the MOC. On 15 October 2006 a meeting took place at St Panteleimon Monastery between Prime Minister Vlado Buchkovski and the Synod of MOC under the leadership of Metropolitan Stefan (Stojan Veljanovski). Buchkovski promised a complete restitution of church property on the condition that the MOC should submit official documentation to the government and the Ministry of Finance.17 However, despite the support of the state, a number of hierarchs expressed dissatisfaction with the process. Metropolitan Timotej of Debar and Kichevo stated that ‘the process of restitution is slow, especially when it comes to extremely valuable property’ and that the restitution of these assets will significantly improve the Church’s economic position.18 The term used in the 1998 Law on Restitution, namely ‘the restitution of church property’, remains ambiguous. The state perceives that the restitution only relates to church buildings and monastery lodgings confiscated after 2 August 1944, while the MOC has also demanded the return of forests, pastures, schools, fields, orchards and shops which were previously in the Church’s possession. A number of bishops managed to obtain significant assets, such as around 70 per cent of its estates in the dioceses of Prespa and Pelagonija. On 17 February 2011 the Macedonian Information Agency stated that the land belonging to St Naum Monastery was returned to the diocese of Debar-Kichevo. This particular estate is composed of 2,770 acres, mainly woodland areas with natural rarities and habitats of endemic species, which was previously managed by the Galicica national park. The return of the MOC’s property has been largely welcomed by the general public; however, the MOC was criticised on a number of occasions when it sold part of its property, an act seen as a deviation from church values.

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Inter-religious dialogue The Republic of Macedonia is a multiethnic country which enjoys and respects the rights and freedom of religious faith and belief. The Law on the Legal Status of Churches, Religious Communities and Religious Groups which came into effect on 1 May 2008 was positively evaluated by the Organization for Security and Cooperation in Europe and the Venice Commission. Macedonia has thirteen recognised churches,19 seven religious communities20 and five religious groups.21 The government is a strong supporter of inter-religious dialogue at the international level and held the First World Conference on dialogue between religions and civilisations, ‘The Contribution of Religion and Culture to Peace, Mutual Respect and Cooperation’, from 26 to 28 October 2007 in Ohrid. The event brought together 400 participants from 50 countries.22 A second conference took place between 6 and 9 May 2010 in Ohrid under the theme of ‘Religion and Culture: The Unbreakable Link between Nations’ attended by around 500 religious dignitaries from 30 countries. The conference led to the issuing of a Declaration which identified the basic principles and priorities of inter-religious cooperation, such as strengthening peace and cooperation through dialogue and exchange; providing educational, social and economic opportunities for new generations that will ensure peaceful coexistence and a sustainable future; and dealing with global challenges to peace, security, poverty and sustainable development through the public display of religious symbols and celebrations of religious holidays. The Second World Conference marked the celebration of three symbolic state anniversaries: 100 years since the birth of Mother Teresa, 1,100 years since the death of St Naum and 1,400 years since the publication of the first edition of the Koran. Local inter-religious dialogue between Orthodox and Catholic believers is confirmed by the presence of the Skopje diocese of the Roman Catholic Church and Apostolic Exarchate for Byzantine-Slavic rite in Strumica.23 Monsignor Kiro Stojanov, who was appointed by Pope Benedict XVI in 2008, heads both Macedonian dioceses. The Roman Catholic Church enjoys good relations with the MOC-OA, as evident each year on 24 May at the feast of Sts Cyril and Methodius, when Macedonian political and religious delegations are received at an official audience with the Pope. Despite state support for inter-religious dialogue at both national and international levels, the MOC-OA has not yet been recognised as a canonical unity by other local Orthodox churches and has no official relations with autocephalous churches in the Balkans or beyond. Its relations with other churches are based on the good will and friendly relations between clergy. The MOC-OA has not established any formal links with the Orthodox Church of Greece, taking into account the official political stance of the Republic of Greece, which denies the use of ‘Macedonia’ as the name for the Republic’s nation, language, church and culture.

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Macedonian diaspora The Macedonian diaspora plays a significant role in the life of the Church. The organisation of the Church outside Macedonia dates back to the 1958 Constitution of the MOC. Article 12 of the Constitution24 stated the formation of separate dioceses for Orthodox believers living abroad.25 Since then, Macedonian emigrants have organised themselves in local church communities fostering cultural and educational activities.26 The first church consecrated by a Macedonian hierarch, namely Metropolitan Naum (Zvonimir Ilievski) of Zletovo-Strumica, was St George Church in Melbourne, Australia, in August 1960.27 In 1961, a Macedonian church was registered in Gary, IN, while in August of the following year, a Macedonian church was established in Toronto, Canada. Today the MOC-OA has three dioceses abroad administering the faithful in Europe, the USA, Canada, Australia and New Zealand. The first diocese was established in 1967 for the Orthodox faithful in the USA, Canada and Australia. In 1981, the diocese was divided into two units, namely the US–Canadian diocese and Australia–New Zealand diocese.28 In 2006 Metropolitan Metodij (Metodij Zlatanov) was put in charge of the US–Canadian diocese. Upon his arrival in the USA he reorganised the diocese, dividing it into three regencies, namely the East regency, the Midwest regency (both in the USA) and the Canadian regency. The East regency is based in the city of Syracuse, NY and is led by Fr Branko Postolovski (protojerej-stavrofor), while Fr Tome Stamatov (protojerej-stavrofor) manages the Midwest regency with its seat in Crown Point, IN and Fr Trajko Boseovski (protojerej-stavrofor) leads the Canadian regency with its seat in Toronto, Canada. The regencies in the USA have over twenty churches, monasteries and parishes, with a similar number in the Canadian regency.29 The Australia–New Zealand diocese is based in Melbourne, Australia. Its first administrator was Metropolitan Tomotej of Debar-Kichevo; from 1995 to the present its administrator has been Metropolitan Petar (Jovan Karevski) of Prespa-Pelagonija. The diocese is divided into multiple regencies, which are consequently divided into municipalities and parishes. The archpriest’s regencies are in Melbourne and Sydney; the former has nine churches, while the latter has seventeen. The Orthodox community founded the first monastery in Australia dedicated to St Kliment Ohridski – Chudotvorec, which is located in the King Lake area near Melbourne. The Australia–New Zealand diocese has witnessed internal divisions over nearly two decades on the issue of property ownership. With regard to Australian legislation, many laymen consider themselves rather than the MOC as the owners of local churches and their properties. The MOC initiated litigation before the Australian courts, arguing that churches should be administered jointly by the clergy and local administration.

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In early December 2012 negotiations started between representatives of the municipalities and parishes that do not recognise the legitimacy of Metropolitan Petar and Synod of the MOC-OA. As a result a temporary solution was agreed by confirming the existence of two groups: one under the leadership of the current administrator Metropolitan Petar, and the second under the authority of the Synod of the MOC-OA. Moreover, on 26 December 2012 the Synod of the MOC-OA held a meeting which decided that for the next three years Metropolitan Timothy would be the coordinator of the Macedonian parishes in Australia which oppose Metropolitan Petar. Thus fourteen parishes are under the jurisdiction of Timothy, while thirteen come under the jurisdiction of Petar. The two groups have decided to suspend the litigation process in order to be given the opportunity to resolve the dispute over the next three years. In Europe, a Macedonian diocese was founded in 1994, and the following year Metropolitan Gorazd was appointed its spiritual leader. After his retirement in 2006, Metropolitan Pimen (Sotir Ilievski) was enthroned at St Naum Church in Malmö, Sweden, which also houses the diocese’s headquarters.30 On 31 July 2007 the European diocese was divided into four archpriest regencies, namely the Scandinavian–north German regency in Malmö, Sweden; the south European regency in Zagreb, Croatia; the central European regency in Munich, Germany; and the west European regency in Dortmund, Germany. The strong presence of the MOC-OA abroad demonstrates that these communities are not merely places of worship but institutions of preserving their cultural and national identity.

Conclusion Two decades of an independent Macedonian state have also meant two decades of free development for the MOC-OA. The fall of communism led to the recognition of the role of religion in Macedonian society and state support for the MOC-OA. Although the MOC-OA has existed administratively since 1958 it is still not officially recognised by the other autocephalous Orthodox churches. Nevertheless, the Macedonian Orthodox Church and believers continue to live a full spiritual life following the canons of the Eastern Orthodox Christianity. The post-1990 socio-political changes have contributed to the recovery and introduction of a stronger religious presence. Monastic life has been restored, ‘Ethics of Religions’ was introduced in state education, the MOC began the publication of periodicals and monographs, while also enjoying the benefits of the Law of Restitution which returned some of its previously nationalised properties. In addition, the Macedonian state has shown support for religious communities through two world conferences on inter-religious dialogue. The MOC-OA has continued to play a national role not only at home but also abroad through the establishment of a wide network of dioceses administering diasporic communities.

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Appendix 1

Religious leaders

• • •

Gavril (Ghorgi Miloshev) (1912–96), in office 1986–93 Mihail (Metodij Gogov) (1912–99), in office 1993–9 Stefan (Stojan Veljanovski) (1955–present), in office 1999–.

2

Biography

Title: Archbishop of Ohrid and Macedonia. Archbishop Stefan (Stojan Veljanovski) graduated from the St Kliment Ohridski Orthodox Seminary in Skopje in 1974. In the same year he enrolled at the Orthodox Theological Faculty in Belgrade, where he completed his studies in 1979. After graduating he was employed as a teacher in the Orthodox Seminary in Skopje and in 1980 he enrolled in postgraduate studies at the Institute ‘St Nicholas’ in Bari specialising in ecumenical and Byzantine studies. In 1982 he became a professor at the St Clement Orthodox Theological Faculty in Skopje. On 3 July 1986 he took monastic vows at St Naum Monastery in Ohrid and on 12 July 1986 was appointed Metropolitan of Strumica; soon afterwards he was appointed head of the diocese of Bregalnica. In 1999, at the age of forty-four, he was elected Archbishop of the MOC-OA. 3

Theological publications

• • • • • •

Pravoslavna svetlina [Orthodox Light] Troichnik [Troichnik] Pravoslaven pat [Orthodox Journey] Godishen zbornik na trudovi [Annual Proceedings] Pravoslaven blagovesnik [Orthodox Annunciation] Premin [Crossing].

4

Congregations

Structure of the Church: The MOC-OA has 10 dioceses, 7 of which operate on the territory of the Republic of Macedonia, and 3 abroad. Number of clergy and church buildings: 850 clergy; 150 monks and nuns; around 2,000 churches and monasteries.31 5

Population

The 2002 census revealed a total population of 2,022,547 people in the Republic of Macedonia. Of these, 1,310,184 people (64.78 per cent) declared

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themselves a member of the Orthodox Church; 674,015 people (33.33 per cent) Muslim; 7,008 people (0.34 per cent) Roman Catholic; and 31,340 people (1.55 per cent) members of other religious communities.32

Notes 1 Mirko Blagojević, Religija i Crkva u transformacijama društva [Religion and Church in a Transformed Society], Beograd: Institut za Filozofiju i društvenu teoriju, I.P. Filip Višnjić, 2008, pp. 225–6. 2 Aleksandar Тrajanovski, Vozobnovuvanje na Ohridskata arhiepiskopija kako makedonska pravoslavna crkva i nejziniot shematizam [The Restoration of the Ohrid Archibishopric as a Macedonian Orthodox Church and its Hierarchy], Skopje: Institute for National History, 2008, p. 245. 3 http://www.sobranie.mk/en/default-en.asp?ItemID=9F7452BF44EE814B8DB897 C1858B71FF (accessed 10 January 2013). 4 The proposal was put forward by the Internal Macedonian Revolutionary Organisation-Democratic Party for Macedonian National Unity. Makedonska nacija, Sreda, 03 Noemvri 2010, elektronsko izdanie [‘Macedonian Nation’, Wednesday, 3 November 2010, online edition]. 5 Andrew Rossos, Macedonia and the Macedonians: A History, Stanford, CA: Hoover Instution Press, 2008, pp. 238–43. 6 See: http://www.mpc.org.mk/vest.asp?id=452 (accessed 10 January 2013). 7 See: www.mpc.org.mk (accessed 10 January 2013). 8 ‘Zamestitel predsedatela Otdela vneshnih cerkovnih svyazej Moskovskogo Patriarhata vstretilsya s Prezidentom Respubliki Makedoniya’ [Wise Chairmen of the Department of External Church Relations met with the President of the Republic of Macedonia], http://www.patriarchia.ru/db/text/960831.html (accessed 11 December 2012). 9 ‘New attempts at an old church problem’, Dnevnik, 21 April 2011 http://www. dnevnik.com.mk/default.asp?ItemID=15521AFF6E50D046A2A2AD18CBC A4755 (accessed 11 December 2012). 10 www.m-p-c.org/Vesti/Rezolucija_12.10/2005.htm (accessed 10 January 2013). 11 The Council for Inter-religious Cooperation was composed of Ratomir Grozdanovski of the MOC, Jakub Selimovski of the Islamic Religious Community, Ante Cirimotikj of the Roman Catholic Church, Mihail Cekov of the United Methodist Chapels and Viktor Mizrahi of the Jewish Community. 12 ‘The opposition is against the introduction of religious education’, http://www.netpress.com.mk/mk/vest.asp?id=2298&kategorija=7 (accessed 11 December 2012). 13 ‘Constitutional court abolishes religious education’, Vecer, no. 14079, 16 April 2009, http://www.vecer.com.mk/default.asp?ItemID=9F822A54EAE0A74091249 A2126F2D05A (accessed 11 December 2012). 14 ‘Increasingly, children learn ethics in religion’, Nova Makedonija, no. 22410, 20 October 2011, http://www.novamakedonija.com.mk/NewsDetal.asp?vest=101911 1856113&id=9&setIzdanie=22410 (accessed 11 December 2012). 15 ‘MOC-OA will spread through religious media’, 28 October 2011, http://www.dwworld.de/dw/article/0,15495458,00.html (accessed 11 December 2012). 16 Тomislav Janchovski, Monashtvoto vo Makedonija [Monasticism in Macedonia], Skopje: Sigmapres, 2010, p. 102. 17 Utrinski vesnik, 16 October 2006, no. 1937. 18 See: www.tvm.mk/vesti-mobil/ohrid/8959-prodolzuva-bitkata-vrakjanje-crkovniimoti.htm (accessed 10 January 2013). 19 Macedonian Orthodox Church – Ohrid Archbishopric; Catholic Church in the Republic of Macedonia; United Methodist Church in the Republic of Macedonia;

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21 22 23 24 25

26 27

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Christian Adventist Church (Seventh-day Adventist Church) in the Republic of Macedonia; Christian Adventist Church in the Republic of Macedonia; Christian Baptist Church ‘Dobra vest’; Evangelical – Congregational Church; ‘Novoapostolska Church’ in the Republic of Macedonia; Evangelical Church in the Republic of Macedonia; Christian Centre in the Republic of Macedonia; Crkva Bozja in the Republic of Macedonia; ‘Christian Church Bozji Glas’; ‘Christian Church Blaga Vest in the Republic of Macedonia. Islamic Community in the Republic of Macedonia; Jewish Community in the Republic of Macedonia; Jehovah’s Witnesses – Christian Religious Community; Holy Seat and Crown of the Islamic Erenleric Taricat Religious Community in the Republic of Macedonia; Sathya Sai Centre-Skopje; Vaishnavian Religious Community; and the Pre-Christian Community ‘Univerzalen Zivot’. Christian Church ‘Slovo na Nadez’; ‘Reform Movement of the Seventh-day Adventists’; Christian Movement ‘New Hope’; Caderian Religious Group ‘Dzennet’; Free Evangelical Church ‘Dobra Vest’. ‘Ohrid messages for peace and coexistence’, http://preminportal.com.mk/content/ view/2782/82/ (accessed 11 December 2012). Religious Almanac of the Republic of Macedonia, Skopje: Committee for Relations with Religious Communities and Religious Groups, 2010, p. 47. Article 12 states: ‘Organiziranjeto na Makedonskata Pravoslavna Crkva e arhiepiskopsko (centralno) i eparhisko (lokalno)’ [The organization of the MOC is archiepiscopal (central) and diocesan (local]. Ustav na Makedonskata Pravoslavna Crkva [The Constitution of the Macedonian Orthodox Church], Skopje: Makedonska pravoslavna crkva, 1958; Borce Ilievski, Makedonsko–srpskite crkovni odnosi 1944–1970 [Macedonian–Serbian Church Relations 1944–1970], Skopje: Filozofski fakultet – Institut za istorija, 2011. Ilievski, Makedonsko–srpskite. Slave Nikolovski-Katin, Makedonskite pravoslavni crkovni opshtini vo Avstralija, Kanada i SAD [The Macedonian Orthodox Church Communities in Australia, Canada and the USA] Skopje: Nova Makedonija, 1991, p. 45; Тrajanovski, Vozobnovuvanje, p. 442; Ilievski, Vozobnovuvanje, p. 130. Тrajanovski, Vozobnovuvanje, p. 436. Ibid., p. 438. Ibid., p. 448. See: http://www.mpc.org.mk (accessed 11 December 2012). Census of Population, Households and Dwellings in the Republic of Macedonia, 2002 – Book XIII, Skopje: State Statistical Office, 2005.

23 The Orthodox churches in China, Japan and Korea Kevin Baker

Over three-quarters of a millennium has passed since Orthodox Christians entered China. In fact, Eastern Christians have been in China evangelising and proselytising since the seventh century, when adherents of Nestorius (the Patriarch of Constantinople driven from the city in AD 431 during the doctrinal disputes of that time) were given leave to preach the Gospel in the Middle Kingdom. There is evidence that Nestorian Christians entered Japan and Korea in subsequent centuries. The origins of Orthodoxy in Northeast Asia came about indirectly through conflict between two major military powers of the thirteenth century – the forces of Islam and the Mongol Empire. In 1223, the armies of Genghis Khan advanced into Central Asia and then over the Caucasus Mountains into Europe. They defeated Russian, German/ Polish and Hungarian armies, before returning to Mongolia in 1225.1 Genghis Khan ‘succeeded in destroying a larger portion of the human race than any modern expert in total warfare, yet conversely he was responsible for the spread of ideas from the West to the East’.2 He was also indirectly responsible for Orthodox Christianity entering Asia. Orthodox Christians went to China, firstly as skilled prisoners, and later as associates and artisans required as the Great Khan built his new imperial capital at Khanbaliq as a showpiece of his power and his rule. These first Orthodox Christians are said to have established a small church somewhere in far west China, but its whereabouts are now unknown. There was a reference to the presence of Russian soldiers in imperial service in a work called the ‘Yuan Shi’ (the ‘History of the Yuan [Dynasty]’).3 According to the records of the ‘Yuan Shi’, in Beijing in 1330, there was a unit of the Imperial Army composed of Russian troops.4 Some of these men had the elevated status of Imperial Guards at the court of the Mongol emperors.5 One writer has stated that ‘many Greek priests, and at least one Russian deacon in Mongolia and China’ were on hand to minister to these thousands of Russian prisoners and mercenaries in Chinese service.6 The first impact of Christianity with the cultures of Japan and Korea also dates back many centuries. Various sects of Buddhism were imported from China into Japan between the seventh and ninth centuries, and it appears likely that Eastern Christianity came to Japan at the same time through the

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same channel. A Japanese manuscript of AD 797 referred to an envoy who returned from China in 736 with two companions – ‘a Persian by the name of Limitsi and a dignitary of the Church of Luminous Religion called Kohfu’.7 These first Christians in Japan were probably adherents of Nestorius, a former Patriarch of Constantinople. In relation to Korea, there is evidence of the presence of Christianity in Korea in the shape of artefacts of Mongol soldiers who were preparing to invade Japan in the thirteenth century. There is also some evidence that Christian missionaries of Eastern churches were present in Korea during the sixth century. In southwest Korea there is a cave built in the sixth century with an entrance that has the pattern of the Christian cavechurches of Syria.8 Hence, Orthodox Christianity has a long history in China and its estranged cousin – Nestorianism – has a longer history in all the countries of Northeast Asia. The history of these churches stretches much farther than those of the Roman Catholic or Protestant churches. This chapter considers both the current situation of Orthodoxy in China (including Hong Kong and Taiwan), Korea and Japan, as well as outlining its long and honoured precedence in the region.

China There is a record that the first Orthodox church in China since the fourteenth century was a small chapel established by three shipwrecked Greek seamen in 1670.9 However, the roots of ongoing Orthodoxy in China were struck by Russians. When a new Imperial dynasty in Russia – the Romanovs – took the throne in 1613, Russia entered into a period of vigour and growth. In 1651, a group of Russians (mainly Cossacks) penetrated to the southern bank of the Amur River in what is now China and built a settlement. The area was inhabited by a small native tribe called the Albazi. The settlement was called Albazin, and the new citizens and the natives built a fortification on the banks of the Amur. With reinforcements came the first priests. The Church of the Resurrection was built in 1671, in front of the stockade. A Chinese source confirms that this church was constructed in Yakelin in what is now the province of Heilongjiang.10 The establishment of a Russian settlement attracted the attention of the Manchu rulers of China and they were disturbed to hear of the new Russian settlements.11 A Chinese source describes the situation from the Chinese point of view: ‘After this gang settled in Yakelin, they set out on all sides to plunder and rape, forcing the Qing government … to send soldiers in to eradicate them.’12 In 1683 to 1686, around seventy Russians (men and women) were captured by Chinese forces and taken to Beijing.13 On the signing of a peace treaty in 1689 the Russians in Beijing were allowed to live relatively freely. They took Chinese surnames that sounded similar to their own, such as Du, He, Yao, etc. One of the Albazins taken to Beijing in 1683 was a priest, Maxim Leontiev. The Chinese government granted Fr Leontiev the use of a Guandi (God

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of War) temple inside the Hujiaquan Hutong as a temporary church and Emperor Kang Xi gave him the title and status of an Imperial Official of the Seventh Rank when assigning ranks to the Russians from Albazin. ‘Sheng Ni Gula’ – ‘Church of St Nicholas’ – was the first permanent Orthodox church in the Chinese heartland. It was situated in the northeastern corner of Beijing. In 1695, news of its existence came to the Metropolitan of Tobolsk, who assumed a spiritual authority over the distant flock, and in June 1695 sent some holy vessels and clothes and a letter of credence.14 In the correspondence, the Metropolitan sought to encourage the group and referred to Fr Leontiev as ‘the Preacher of the Gospel to the Chinese Empire’. The work in China eventually exhausted Fr Leontiev’s strength and he died in 1712. Tsar Peter the Great ordered the establishment of a permanent Orthodox mission in the Chinese capital in a ukase15 of June 1700. The ukase was issued ‘with the tempting aim of converting to Greek Orthodoxy the Chinese Khan and his people’ in the words of a later historian.16 On the orders of the Tsar, and with the permission of the Emperor, the Russian Ecclesiastical Mission was formally established in Beijing on 30 April 1715. The number of the Albazin community at this time is open to conjecture. One source suggests that just fifty expatriate Russians remained, although this figure does not include their wives and children, nor the families of the men who had died by then.17 There was a second mission to China in 1729. They developed land in the southern part of Beijing, and this became Nan Kwan (Southern Compound). The Albazin settlement, which included the old Church of St Nicholas, was called the Pei Kwan (Northern Compound). The missions concentrated on scholarship and there were no extended conversion efforts until the mid-nineteenth century. The year 1859 marked what may be called the beginning of the modern era of the Orthodox Church in North Asia. In that year, the diplomatic situation changed with the establishment of a separate Russian legation, and the religious situation also changed with the work of a remarkable man, Archimandrite Palladii Kafarov. Archimandrite Palladii lived in China for thirty-three years in all and was the Head of Mission between 1849 and 1859, then from 1864 to 1878. Perhaps Archimandrite Palladii would have agreed with recent writers like Fr Alexander Schmemann, who has reaffirmed the duty of the missionary to seek to redeem ‘the whole life, the total being of man’.18 In 1871, it was recorded that between ten and forty Chinese were being converted each year.19 Around 500 Chinese were baptised between 1860 and 1897.20 By 1899, the Orthodox Church was spreading more widely throughout China, mainly through the support of Orthodox laymen among the trading communities. There were new Orthodox churches built in Kalgan, in Chihlih province north of Beijing, as well as in Hankou in the south of China. Also at this time, the Russians began railway work in Manchuria, which led in time to an influx of Orthodox Christians from Russia itself. In the year

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1899, however, there was an outbreak of bloody conflict. The Boxer Unrest was centred in northern China, the very region where Orthodoxy was concentrated, and many Russian and Chinese Orthodox Christians died, among them a remarkable priest named Fr Mitrophan Tsi (his Chinese name was Tzi Chun).21 In 1902 the Russian Orthodox Church canonised 222 Chinese martyrs as locally venerated saints and set their commemoration day as 11 June (24 June in the Western calendar). After the Boxer Unrest, the Orthodox Church continued to develop, and there was an influx of Russian refugees in the 1920s. There was a name change for the mission in 1924. In May of that year, the Soviet government completed the Sino-Soviet Treaty with the Chinese, and among its provisions was a demand that all property belonging to the Russian Orthodox Church should be turned over to the Soviet government. When the head of the Church in Beijing, Archbishop Innocent Figurovsky, was informed of this, he approached the Chinese authorities and affirmed that the Orthodox churches in China had now severed direct links with the Russian Orthodox Church. Despite this split from its roots, the Church continued to expand throughout China. From 1918 to 1922, nine churches were built in Harbin and a further six between the years 1923 to 1924. Most of this growth, both in Harbin and elsewhere in the northeast, came about through the influx of Russian émigrés. After this initial spurt, the Church grew more slowly, with another four churches being built between 1925 and 1930, but then no further church was built until 1941. The reason for the arrested growth was the Japanese occupation of the provinces of Thiaoning, Jilin and Heilongjiang. By 1931, there were 50,000 Russians in Harbin,22 despite the Japanese occupation and administration of the area. After the war with Japan and the civil war, the Chinese Communist Party took power. They took early action against religious groups, especially the Christian churches with their foreign missionaries. The Orthodox Church in China, because of its Russian antecedents (i.e. the fact that the Russians were initially sympathetic to and supportive of the Chinese communists) did not immediately suffer. By 1950, the Orthodox Church in China was unified under a prelate named Archbishop Victor (Svyatin). In 1950, the first indigenous bishop, Bishop Du Ren Chen (Simeon Du), was consecrated. Nine Chinese men were ordained priests and deacons in the cathedral in Beijing.23 Bishop Du was transferred to Shanghai, and took up office there in May 1951. He established an enviable reputation as a pastor and teacher. He set up a journal, The Lamp (or ‘Light of Justice’) published in Chinese, and was also well known for his ecumenical efforts, particularly his relationships with the Protestant churches of the region. He died in February 1965, on the eve of the Cultural Revolution which would wreak havoc with the physical fabric of the Church. He lived his last years in poverty, for the resources of the Church dwindled under the pressure of the times. In 1956, the Church in China formally became an autonomous province of the Orthodox world community of churches and the ‘Orthodox Eastern

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Church of China’ was formed. The new independent and indigenous Church had five functioning dioceses: Beijing, Harbin, Tianjin, Shanghai and Urumqi. The church in Wuhan had also been treated as a diocese, but no bishop had been able to take up the post. Archbishop Victor retired and the first Archbishop and leader of the independent Orthodox Church of China was, fittingly, Chinese. He was Yao Fuan (also known as Basil Yao Fuan).24 Church statistics for the 1950s are not entirely reliable, given the long decades of turmoil that the country had passed through. In Manchuria alone, one estimate of the statistics that related to the Orthodox Church in the region noted that in 1952, there were 60 parishes with 200 priests and 100,000 parishioners.25 There were another 150 parishes and 200,000 parishioners elsewhere in the country. Considering that by that time there had been substantial numbers of Russians leaving the country since the communist victory in 1949, it may be assumed that the number of Orthodox Christians had been even higher in the immediate post-war years. Although this estimate of 300,000 Orthodox Christians is less than the numbers of Protestants or Catholics, it is not insignificant. The actual figure of Orthodox Christians, given the large Russian populations in the northeast and west, could reasonably be put much higher. Another estimate of 1,500,00026 exists but is probably too high, even allowing for the presence of many Russians, particularly for this time around 1950. These statistics compare well with the numbers of other churches. John Meyendorff has indicated the probable inaccuracies in some Protestant and Catholic statistics, where the total number of baptisms is recorded, but not the numbers of those who actually practised their faith.27 However, in the years leading up to the Cultural Revolution, suppression increased and the Orthodox Church of China suffered. In Shanghai, the doors of St Mary’s Cathedral were sealed in February, 1965.28 Officially, Orthodox Church activities thereupon ceased in the diocese. By this time, the bulk of the Orthodox clergy of Russian descent had been expelled from China. It was the Chinese clergy and lay people who would bear the brunt of the persecution of the Cultural Revolution. A priest of St Nicholas’s Cathedral in Harbin was dragged from his church, a metal bucket was put over his head and the bucket beaten by clubs and bats until he died. An Albazin priest in Tianjin was beaten to death by a mob in his own church. Two deacons were beaten and died during the height of the Cultural Revolution in 1966. Eventually, these years of overt suppression passed, and there was a relaxation of strict controls after the death of Mao Zedong in 1976. The government of Deng Xiaoping relaxed some controls on churches in 1984. Officially, the Church was permitted to renew and reform its activities, but there was still discrimination in education, employment and housing against committed Christians. One estimate recorded that there were just 3,100 communicants in Harbin in 1984.29 Only two churches were opened for services in 1986.30 In the 1990s, visiting Orthodox clergy and laity were allowed to make gifts to replace

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church requisites and vestments destroyed during the Cultural Revolution and afterwards. The year 2002 marked the 290th anniversary of the establishment of the Russian Spiritual Mission in Beijing and the 100th anniversary of the consecration of the first bishop of the Chinese Orthodox Church, and later metropolitan, Innocent Figurovsky. On 24 June of that year, there was a commemoration of the memory of the 222 Chinese martyrs of the Boxer Unrest. Fr Alexander Du, who died at the end of 2003, was the last Chinese Orthodox priest who lived in Beijing. Fr Gregory Zhu Shipu in Harbin, the last active Chinese Orthodox priest in China, also died in 2003. However, in 2004, a number of Chinese Orthodox Christians were allowed to undertake theological studies outside China, mainly in Russia, and by 2010 there were eighteen men in training to be priests or deacons. The Cathedral of the Annunciation in Moscow donated prayer books and books of doctrine translated into Chinese. In 2008, there was some controversy when the Ecumenical Patriarch added China to the jurisdiction of the Metropolitan of Hong Kong and Southeast Asia, which conflicted with the February 1997 declaration of the Holy Synod in Moscow that the pastoral care of Orthodox Christians in China came under the Russian Church. Some events of 2009/10 that evoked worldwide interest in the long history of Orthodoxy in China were the discoveries of three old books on the activities of the Church during the years of the Middle Kingdom and then later in the twentieth century. The first of these, entitled Beijing: Russia’s Spiritual Mission in China, was rediscovered in Harvard University Library. As the title suggests, it deals with the history of the mission in Beijing and was published in 1939 in Tianjin. The second book, History of the Church of the Annunciation of Harbin, was published in 1942 and detailed events surrounding the earliest years of the Russian ecclesiastical establishment in Harbin. The author was Konstantin Komarov. The third book described the Church in Tianjin. This book has wider importance, because it backgrounds the work of Archimandrite Victor, later the Archbishop and head of the Orthodox Church in China. All three books provide new insights into a long and sometimes little appreciated history. By 2010, there had been a revival of Orthodox Church activities in various cities around the country, although the Church is not recognised as a separate church by the government authorities that oversee religious activities in China. Nevertheless, Easter services were celebrated in Beijing, Shenzhen, Guangzhou, Shanghai and Hong Kong, as well as in the northeast in Heilongjiang, in the north at Labdarin and in the far west in Xinjiang – notably in the cities of Urumqi and Kulj. Some of these liturgies had to be conducted in Russian consulates, as there were no dedicated churches in these cities. In 2010, one source estimated 15,000 practising Orthodox Christians in China, although many of them were not able to attend regular services.31

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There were still people who identified as Albazin, the smallest official minority group in China. Some of these proclaimed their Orthodox faith and kept alive their long heritage, whereas others were of no religion. In the northern regions of Manchuria, there were still Orthodox Christians, of Russian and Russian-Chinese descent, although most of them had not been able to practise their faith for years. Also in Heilongjiang, and parts of the Chinese province of Inner Mongolia, there lives an ethnic minority known as Evenks (previously known as Tungus by the Russians). A minority of the Evenks follow Orthodox Christianity. Orthodox communities in other areas of China requested that the authorities allowed them to open churches. Orthodox Christians in Taicheng, a city near the Kazakh border northwest of Urumqi, sought to re-establish a place of worship. In Yining, around a hundred Orthodox Christians repaired and reopened a small church. The former school buildings and school still exist.32 In 2010, the number of Orthodox Christians in the western province of Xinjiang (under the jurisdiction of the Moscow Patriarchate), of Russian, Uygur and Chinese descent, numbered around 4,000.

Taiwan After the victory of the communists in 1949, many Chinese Nationalists and their supporters and families went to Taiwan, and among their number were Russians from Mancuria, Xinjiang and Shanghai, formerly members of the Chinese National Army. There were also a number of Russian women who had married Chinese officers. Prior to their arrival there had been no Orthodox clergy or church permanently based on the island. The Russians met regularly, first in a cafe and then in a private home in North Chien Kuo Road, Taipei.33 In 1957, Archbishop Ireney Bekish from Tokyo visited the house and a chapel and blessed an icon. The Archbishop came again in subsequent years. He also travelled to T’aichung, on the central west coast of Taiwan, and there baptised nine people. From 1960, a visiting chaplain of the United States Armed Forces named Fr Nikolay Kiriljuk became the support of a flock that by then numbered more than fifty.34 This small flock worshipped in the homes of the local faithful for many years with the occasional support of United States chaplains. In 2000, Metropolitan Nikitas (Lulias) of Hong Kong and Southeast Asia (under the jurisdiction of the Ecumenical Patriarch) sent Archimandrite Jonah George Mourtos (Lee Liang San Fu) to Taipei to support the faithful handful and to develop missionary outreach among the Taiwanese. Fr Jonah arrived and began work to expand the Church in Taipei. Metropolitan Nikolai made a pastoral visit in 1998. In 2004, the Church was officially established as the Orthodox Church of Taiwan, an exarchate under the jurisdiction (omophorion) of Metropolitan Nikitas. In 2010, the Church of Taiwan had between 100 and 200 regular churchgoers, and ongoing missionary programmes under the supervision of Fr Jonah. In addition, there were 300 Russian citizens on

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the Russian consular register in Taipei, some of whom would be Orthodox Church adherents.35

Hong Kong There had been Orthodox liturgies celebrated in Hong Kong since the 1920s, and during the years of the Second World War, Bishop John Maximovich of Shanghai had led the community. However, he went to the United States in 1945. From the 1950s to the 1960s, the only Orthodox pastor in Hong Kong, Fr Dimitry, ministered to a small flock. There was an episcopal visit in 1968,36 but Fr Dimitry died shortly afterwards. As the number of Orthodox adherents had declined by then, it was announced in June 1970 that the church would have to be closed.37 However, with renewed interest in Orthodoxy, the Church of Sts Peter and Paul was reopened in the Sheung Wan district of Hong Kong Island, under the jurisdiction of the Patriarchate in Moscow. The church has an active programme, translating Orthodox materials into Chinese as part of its missionary outreach. The parish of Sts Peter and Paul operates with Russian links although Hong Kong falls under the jurisdiction of a Metropolitan with links to the Ecumenical Patriarch. In 1997, Bishop Nikitas was installed as Metropolitan of Hong Kong and Southeast Asia in a ceremony held in Hong Kong. When Metropolitan Nikitas was transferred to another appointment in 2008, Archimandrite Nektarios (Tsilis) was installed as Metropolitan of Hong Kong and Southeast Asia, with responsibility for Hong Kong, the Philippines, Taiwan, Thailand, Laos, Vietnam, Cambodia and Myanmar. In 2010, there were around 180 Orthodox Christians in Hong Kong.

Japan Eastern church missionaries entered Japan the country in the eighth century, as has been related, and had left evidence of their presence, but not an organised Christian church. The origins of the modern Orthodox Church in Japan came about when a single Orthodox priest, Fr Nicholas Kasatkin, arrived in Japan in 1861 to serve as chaplain to the staff of the Russian consulate at Hakodate. The first Russian diplomatic mission arrived in 1858. Fr Kasatkin did not have an opportunity to spread his faith to Japanese citizens until after 1867. He baptised the first three Japanese Orthodox Christians in 1868. Fr Kasatkin’s work came to the attention of the Russian Orthodox Holy Synod and the Synod officially established an Orthodox mission in Japan in 1871. Fr Nicholas became the first pastor and archimandrite of the Orthodox Church in Japan. With the arrival of another missionary, Fr Anatoli, Fr Nicholas placed the Christians of Hakodate under the care of the new arrival and moved to Tokyo, the centre of the empire. There he published the New Testament he had translated into Japanese. In 1880, Fr Nicholas was appointed the first bishop of the Orthodox Church in Japan, and he established the Holy Resurrection Cathedral in Tokyo on the site of the first mission. By 1890, there were more

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than 17,000 Orthodox Christians in Japan.38 In 1900, there were nearly 26,000 Orthodox Christians, although this number included many Russians.39 The Church was well established, mainly in the north of Japan in Hokkaido, but it had a presence and priests on all the main islands. The future looked bright. When Bishop Nicholas died in 1912, there was a well-spread flock with 35 priests, 22 deacons and 106 catechists in a total of 266 congregations.40 Metropolitan Sergei, who succeeded Metropolitan Kasatkin in 1912, faced difficulties, brought about by first the war, then the Russian Revolution. The cathedral was badly damaged in the earthquake of 1923 that devastated Tokyo. Then there were privations in the years of the Second World War. With the end of the war, the Orthodox Church of Japan looked to America for practical support and jurisdiction was transferred to the American Orthodox Synod.41 This continued until 1970, when the Orthodox Church of Japan became completely autonomous. The Orthodox Church in Japan became fully indigenous when the first native Japanese Metropolitan Theodosius (Nagashima) was appointed n in 1972. The decades of the 1970s and 1980s saw slow but steady growth in the number of indigenous Orthodox Christians. Metropolitan Theodosius died on 9 May 1999. Almost one year later, on 6 May 2000, a Council of the Japanese Church elected Bishop Daniel (Nushiro) as the new Metropolitan. Bishop Daniel’s election was confirmed by Patriarch Aleksii II in Moscow. In 2010, The Orthodox Church in Japan comprised three dioceses – Tokyo, Kyoto and Sendai – with a central seminary in Tokyo to train local clergy. There were 35 indigenous priests and deacons serving 150 parishes, most of which were in northern Japan. In the early twenty-first century, there were around 30,000 who regularly attended church services.42 Unfortunately, the earthquake and tsunami that hit Japan in March 2011 struck hardest in the coastal region of Sendai. Bishop Seraphim of Sendai reported that the church was not badly damaged, although many of his flock suffered death, or injury or loss.43

Korea The Silla Dynasty of Korean emperors had sent scholars to study and learn at the court of Emperor Tang Tsi in Xi’an in the eighth century, and those scholars had returned bringing information on Buddhism, and also on Christianity, but the latter did not have a lasting impact at that time. By the late nineteenth century, the Korean peninsula became territory disputed between China, Japan and later Russia. The Russians wanted to expand their influence in the north to consolidate their hold on most of Manchuria, and they encouraged the establishment of a Russian Orthodox mission in Korea. The decision to send a mission was taken in a Holy Synod of 4 July 1897, and eventually Fr Chyrsanthos Shehtkofsky was appointed archimandrite, and Fr Nicholas Alexiev and a student, Jonah Leftsenko, would accompany him. On 17 February 1900, the mission was opened in a temporary church in Seoul and the first Orthodox liturgy was celebrated. A permanent

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church was built in the Chong Dong area of the capital and by 1903 it was completed and dedicated to St Nicholas. In 1912, a Korean named John Kang was ordained a priest. In 1913, a second Korean was ordained a deacon. During the period 1916 to 1945, the Orthodox Church maintained its toehold in Korea. The Japanese surrender in 1945 brought optimism to the Korean people. The Korean Orthodox Church changed its status from that of mission to that of a parish community. In 1947, Korean Alexei Kim was ordained a priest, but he was the only priest for the Orthodox community. The Korean War of 1950 to 1953 brought destruction to wide areas of the peninsula. Fr Kim was captured by the communists in July 1950, and was not heard of again. Throughout the country, Orthodox churches and properties were destroyed and many of the congregations that had worshipped within them had been dispersed. The end of actual fighting in 1953 was an opportunity to rebuild. In 1953, the Orthodox parish in Seoul was reconstituted by an Army chaplain serving with the United Nations forces. He was Archimandrite Andrew Halkiopoulos, a chaplain with the Greek Army. He gathered together the scattered Christians and began Orthodox services again. In early 1954, one of the Seoul flock named Boris Moon who had survived the Second War and the Korean War was ordained a priest by Archbishop Ireney of Tokyo. He was the fourth indigenous Korean Orthodox priest, and he worked to expand services and liturgies for the parish in Seoul. In the next year, the parish community sought to put itself under the jurisdiction of the Patriarch of Constantinople, and by 1956, this was agreed to and the Korean Orthodox Church was placed under the jurisdiction and supervision of the Archbishop of North and South America, although there is also an outreach programme by churches and clergy under the supervision of the Patriarch of Moscow. A new church in the Mapo-Gu district of Seoul was built gradually from 1967 to 1968, with its centrepiece an icon of St Seraphim of Sarov that had been commissioned by the last Empress of Russia. The church was dedicated to St Nicholas, as was the first Orthodox church in Korea. In 1970, as part of ecclesiastical changes that saw the Japanese Orthodox Church established in its own right, jurisdiction over the Korean Orthodox Church was transferred to the Metropolitan of New Zealand. In 1975, with a view to reinvigorating an indigenous clergy, Archimandrite Soterios Trambas was sent to Korea. By 1978, St Nicholas Church was refurbished and consecrated by Metropolitan Dionysios (Psiahas) of New Zealand. Two years later, another indigenous Korean, Daniel Na Chang Kyu, was ordained a priest. From Seoul, churches were established in Inchon and Pusan, and a seminary was established in the capital. By 1986, there were four Orthodox churches in Korea, with schools and charities conducted as part of its work. In that year, Seoul became the headquarters of the Orthodox Eastern Mission, an organisation set up to support Orthodoxy throughout Asia. Archimandrite Soterios was appointed a bishop in 1993, and was given responsibility for the Church in Korea under the Metropolitan of New Zealand. The Patriarch of

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Constantinople, Bartholomew I, visited Korea in April, 1995, and blessed cornerstones for a new seminary and chapel, which were completed the following year. That year 1996 also saw official government recognition of the Orthodox Church in Korea, and the Ministry of Culture and Sports purchased copies of a book on the history of Orthodoxy for circulation to schools and libraries.44 During April 2004, the Synod of the Patriarchate of Constantinople elevated the Church in Korea to independent status and the Bishop of Korea became a metropolitan. The Church then had six parish churches with nine clergy (seven of them Koreans) and nearly 3,000 parishioners and supporters. In 2008, Metropolitan Soterios (Trambas) retired and was replaced by Metropolitan Ambrosios (Zographos). By 2011, there were ten parishes.

Conclusion The Orthodox Church has had a long – and little known – presence in China and the nations of northeast Asia, and, as noted at the beginning of this chapter, Nestorian Christians entered China, Japan and Korea even earlier. Both of these seeding vines prospered for long periods, succoured by ongoing trading and cultural links, and the often heroic efforts of expatriates who spent their lives and sometimes gave their lives for their faith. However, when those links with respective homelands were broken, the indigenous churches were left with local resources hammered thin by persecution. The Orthodox Church of China has survived into the twenty-first century – just – but its vine needs careful tending to regain its vigour. The small transplants in Hong Kong and Taiwan may be a source of renewed growth for Chinese Orthodox Christians. The Orthodox Church in Japan, founded and tended by Russian missionaries and traders, and the Orthodox of Korea, nurtured by Allied forces chaplains, have not suffered the same extended persecution as the Church of China and have proved to be small but vigorous vines. All these churches appear to be small compared to Europe and the Americas, but the quality of Christian faith has never been measured by numbers.

Appendix 1

Religious leaders

China Pastoral care of Chinese Orthodox Christians under the supervision of Metropolitan Hilarion (Kapral), Hierarch of the Russian Orthodox Church outside Russia. In Taiwan, pastoral care also under the supervision of Metropolitan Nikitas (Lulias) of Hong Kong and Southeast Asia (the Ecumenical Patriarchate).

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Japan Metropolitan Daniel (Nushiro), in office 2000–. South Korea Metropolitan Ambrosios (Zographos), in office 2008–. 2

Congregations

China Structure of the Church: Numbers of Orthodox Christians are in the northeast and far west, as well as small congregations in Shanghai and Beijing. Churches in Yining and Taicheng, and a church in Shanghai being refurbished. A small number of prospective clergy are in training. Japan Structure of the Church: 3 bishoprics under a metropolitan; 150 parishes; 35 indigenous priests. South Korea Structure of the Church: 1 metropolitan/bishop; 10 parishes; 9 priests. 3

Population

China In 2010, there were an estimated 13,000 Orthodox believers45 out of a population of 1,338,300,000.46 Japan In 2010, there were an estimated 30,00047 attending Orthodox services out of a population of 127,450,000.48 South Korea In 2006, there were an estimated 3,000 Orthodox believers. The population in 2011 was 48,754,657.49

Notes 1 Qi Guogan and Ma Keyao, A Collection of Major Events in Foreign History, vol. 2, Chongqing: Chongqing Publishing House, 1986, pp. 478–81.

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2 Christopher Dawson (ed.), The Mongol Mission – Narratives and Letters of the Franciscan Missionaries in Mongolia and China in the Thirteenth and Fourteenth Centuries, London: Sheed & Ward, 1955, p. xii. 3 Zhang Sui, The Orthodox Church in China [in Chinese], Shanghai: Xuelin Publishing Company, 1984, p. 180 (author’s translation). 4 Yuan Shi [Official History of the Yuan Dynasty], roll 34, Beijing: Jilin People’s Publishing Company, 1995, p. 459. 5 Edward Parker, China, Her History, Diplomacy and Commerce from the Earliest Times to the Present Day, London: John Murray, 1901, p. 96. 6 Edward Parker, China and Religion, London: John Murray, 1905, p. 233. 7 Ikuro Teshima, The Ancient Jewish Diaspora in Japan, Tokyo: Private Printing, 1973, p. 64. 8 Quoted in John M. L. Young, By Foot to China, Tokyo: Radiopress, 1984, p. 20. 9 Eric Widmer, The Russian Ecclesiastical Mission in Peking during the Eighteenth Century, Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1976, p. 24. 10 Zhang, The Orthodox Church in China, p. 180. 11 Frank Golder, Russian Expansion on the Pacific 1641–1850, Cleveland: Arthur Clark Company, 1914, chapter 2; also Alexis Krausse, Russia in Asia – A Record and a Study, 1558–1899, New York: Henry Holt & Co., 1899, pp. 32–42. 12 Xinchuan Huang, A Brief History of Tsarist Russia’s Religious Invasion of China, Liaoning: Liaoning People’s Publishing Company, 1990, p. 25. 13 Victor Yakhontoff, Russia and the Soviet Union in the Far East, New York: CowardMcCann Inc., 1931, pp. 351–2. 14 Archimandrite Innocent, ‘The Russian Orthodox Mission in China’, Chinese Recorder, October 1916, p. 678. 15 A ‘ukase’ was an official edict of the Tsar. 16 Nikolai Adoratsky, ‘Pravoslavnaya Missiya y Kitaye za 200 let yeya Shuschestvovaniya’ [The Greek Orthodox Mission in China during 200 Years of its Existence], Pravoslavny Sobesednik, Kazan, February 1887, p. 256. 17 Fortunato Prandi (ed. and trans.), Memoirs of Father Ripa during Thirteen Years’ Residence at the Court of Peking in the Service of the Emperor of China, New York: Wiley & Putnam, 1845, p. 103. 18 Alexander Schmemann, Church, World, Mission: Reflections on Orthodoxy in the West, Crestwood, NY: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 1979, p. 216. 19 Archimandrite Innocent, ‘The Russian Orthodox Mission in China’, p. 684. 20 Ibid. 21 Accounts of the martyrdom of Father Tsi and others are in the Chinese Messenger (Blagovestnik), January 2000 issue, ‘Accounts of the Martyrs of the Chinese Orthodox Church who fell victim in Beijing in 1900’ (English translation by Nina Tkachuk Dimas). 22 Henry Woodhead, A Visit to Manchukuo, Shanghai: Mercury Press, 1932, p. 54. 23 Zhang, The Orthodox Church in China, p. 166, notes that there were ten ordinands. 24 John Meyendorff, The Orthodox Church, New York: Pantheon Books, 1960, p. 183. 25 Richard Clarence Bush, Religion in Communist China, New York: Abingdon Press, 1970, p. 239. 26 Joe Kuzmission (ed.), Eastern Orthodox World Directory, Boston: Branden Press, 1968, p. 251. 27 Meyendorff, The Orthodox Church, p. 143. 28 Zhang, The Orthodox Church in China, p. 240. 29 Bush, Religion in Communist China, p. 251. 30 In 1989, the author attended a church service where worshippers were forced to enter the church in single file between tall unsmiling guards of the Public Security Bureau.

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31 Interview, ‘Metropolitan Hilarion: Orthodox China suffers from a lack of priests’, http://theorthodoxchurch.info/blog/articles/2011/03 (accessed 16 January 2012). 32 Igor Rotar, Keston News Service, 13 March 2002. 33 Kiril Mirakovski (trans.), ‘Historical Notes about Orthodox Church Life in Taiwan’, http://www.orthodox.cn/localchurch/glebrar_en.htm (accessed 16 January 2012). 34 Ibid. 35 Interview, ‘Metropolitan Hilarion’. 36 Igor Rotar, Keston News Service, 13 March 2002. 37 The report of the General Church Assembly from 7 July 1970. Archive Father Dionisy Pozdnyaev. 38 Richard Drummond, A History of Christianity in Japan, Grand Rapids, MI: W. B.Eerdmans Publishing, 1971, p. 145. 39 Ibid. 40 Ibid., p. 212. 41 Ilya Kharin, ‘Self-Realization of the Japanese Orthodox Church 1912–1956’, PhD dissertation, Princeton University, submitted November 2011, p. 253. 42 Statistics from the World Council of Churches, www.oikoumene.org/en/memberchurches/regions/asia/japan/orthodox-church-in-japan.html (accessed 23 January 2012). 43 ‘Orthodox churches on Japan’s Pacific coast destroyed, communications lost – bishop’, http://www.interfax-religion.com/?act=news&div=8283 (accessed 16 January 2012). 44 The book was entitled The Eastern Orthodox Church – its History and Theology, by Father Justin Kang Tae-Yong, published by the Orthodox Church in Korea. 45 Interview, ‘Metropolitan Hilarion’. 46 World Bank Development Indicators 2010. 47 Statistics from the World Council of Churches, www.oikoumene.org/en/memberchurches/regions/asia/japan/orthodox-church-in-japan.html (accessed 23 January 2012). 48 World Bank Development Indicators 2010. 49 CIA World Factbook 2011.

24 Orthodox churches in Australia James Jupp

Followers of Orthodox Christianity in Australia number almost 600,000 and are adherents of more than fifteen distinct churches.1 However this strength is of quite recent origin. It was caused by immigration from southeastern Europe from the 1830s (mainly Greece), from Lebanon from the 1890s and, more recently from states which came under communist control from 1945.2 The limited number of Orthodox from the Middle East (mainly Lebanon, Iraq and Egypt) and Africa (mainly Ethiopia) could only settle in Australia in significant numbers after the ending of the White Australia immigration restrictions in the early 1970s.3 Lebanese Christians were exempted from these restrictions, enabling them to establish Antiochian communities in the 1890s in Melbourne and Sydney.4 Armenians were also accepted and their church was opened in Sydney in 1957. Russians established their church in Brisbane in 1926 as a distant branch of the anti-communist Russian Church Abroad.5 Only the Greek Orthodox Church emerged as the numerically dominant element, with two-thirds of the Orthodox followers. Their founding churches and communities were established in Sydney and Melbourne in 1890–2.6 Their greatest strength came from officially sponsored immigration between 1960 and 1970. Macedonian immigration followed a similar pattern, but in smaller numbers before the 1950s.7 Australia was settled as a series of British colonies after 1788 and federated as the Commonwealth of Australia in 1901. It was peopled almost exclusively from the British Isles. Although the Church of England had initial pretensions to being a national church, these were officially repudiated as early as 1836. The Constitution of 1901 prevents the establishment of a single church by the Commonwealth in s. 116: The Commonwealth shall not make any law for establishing any religion, or for imposing any religious observation, or for prohibiting the free exercise of any religion, and no religious test shall be required as a qualification for any office or public trust under the Commonwealth. This clause, although apparently similar to one in the United States Constitution, has allowed the Commonwealth to fund schools, hospitals and

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charities, as well as giving tax and financial benefits, to all religions, including non-Christians. This has been particularly useful for those religions like Orthodoxy, which are not based on the Anglo-Australian majority and have limited resources.8

Refugees and the diaspora9 The various Orthodox immigrants in Australia had much experience of persecution, warfare, massacres and foreign occupation. The small and fractionalised Middle Eastern groups were largely retreating before Muslim hostility, which increased after the founding of Israel in 1948. The Europeans, other than the Greeks, had come under communism as a result of the Second World War, and remained subject to broadly atheistic regimes for forty-five years. Civil wars had left festering community relations in Greece and Yugoslavia.10 The Russian Church had split following the Bolshevik Revolution of 1917, and the Serbian, Romanian and Ukrainian churches were all openly hostile to their homeland governments. The Romanian Church was not established until 1972 and the first Australian bishop was enthroned only in 2008, well after Romania had ceased to be under communist control. Yet this common experience was not sufficient to create a harmonious relationship between the exiles. For different reasons the Greeks and Serbs relentlessly pursued the Macedonians, whose church was created in 1968 with the support of the Tito government. The Ukrainians opposed the Russians with the same vigour which had split the Ukrainian Church between Catholics and Orthodox in 1596. Whether under communists or dictatorships, most Orthodox in Australia shared experiences which few Australians could understand. These included the Armenian massacres between 1890 and 1920, ethnic cleansing by the Croatian state from 1940 to 1945 and Serbians in Bosnia in the 1990s, and persistent persecution under the Soviet Union even into the Khrushchev period, including the impact of the Ukrainian famine of 1932. The Orthodox diaspora in Australia had frequently suffered many similar experiences, even the small and newly arrived Ethiopian Church under the Mengistu regime (1974–91). This has made their relations with the homeland institutions – both church and state – fraught with difficulties. As many, other than the Greek majority, arrived under the Australian humanitarian and refugee programmes, this perpetuated their alienation from dominant forces in their previous homelands. All these experiences of repression and warfare were kept alive in memorial days and services.

The Greek Church11 The Greek Orthodox Church is by far the largest of its communion in Australia. It was not directly affected by the rise and fall of communism, although the Greek community was seriously divided over the civil war (1944–9) and the dictatorial rule of the ‘colonels’ (1967–74). The Greek Communist Party was

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also split between a reformist and a pro-Soviet faction. These events had a strong influence on Australian Greeks, as did the dispute over the creation and naming of the former Yugoslav Republic of Macedonia and the Turkish invasion of Cyprus in 1974. The division over the dictatorship split the local community to the extent that separate national day celebrations were held.12 Greeks were highly politicised and took a significant role in Australian politics, unlike many other ethnic and religious minorities. However, disputes within the Church, leading to a schism in Adelaide in 1960, were essentially over leadership and property rather than ideology or theology, and had no effect on other Australians. The major tension was between the local lay Greek Orthodox communities and church control approved from Athens. This was a long story, going back at least to the 1920s, when the first Metropolitan of the Eastern Orthodox Archdiocese of Australia, New Zealand and the Pacific was appointed by the Ecumenical Patriarch.13 The Ecumenical Patriarch continued to appoint the Australian Metropolitan, who became the Primate with the creation of the Australian Archdiocese in 1959. Archbishop Ezekiel Tsoukalas held this position until 1974. He was succeeded by Archbishop Stylianos (Harkianakis) (1975 to the present). With only two archbishops in over fifty years, the Australian Church enjoyed considerable institutional stability. One achievement of Archbishop Stylianos was the creation of St Andrew’s Greek Orthodox Theological College in Sydney in 1986. As a state church the Greek Orthodox have been influenced by Greek politics, closely aligned with Greek governments, and authoritative in such matters as marriage and baptism. Thus any group breaking away from the Church in Australia, for whatever reason, faced the prospect of losing their legitimacy within the community. Yet there were serious tensions built into the church structure. Nominally answerable to the Constantinople Patriarchate, effective authority often rested with the Athens Archbishop, with the Greek government of the day or with the Holy Synod of the Church of Greece, the latter having been given responsibility for Australian Greeks as early as 1908. This was often unacceptable to the Greek Orthodox communities, which had raised money, built churches and run schools in the diaspora with little support from Athens. Moreover the Greek Church, from its establishment in Australia in 1892, also had considerable influence over the smaller and weaker Orthodox communities, which was not always appreciated, At various times authority over the Australian Greeks was claimed by the Ecumenical Patriarch, by the Athens Archdiocese, the Autocephalous Greek Orthodox Church of America and Canada and even briefly by the Jerusalem Patriarchate. The early history of the Church is characterised by these regular tensions surrounding effective control and leadership.14 These did not abate when Greek numbers rose rapidly as a result of post-war immigration, reaching a peak of 160,000 Greek-born in 1971, together with many from Cyprus, Egypt and elsewhere in the eastern Mediterranean.15 Tensions with the Athens Archdiocese and Constantinople Patriarchate underlined the desire to maintain autonomy for what was a strong and successful Australian establishment

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with a significant role in public life in Melbourne.16 Australian-Greek Welfare, Orthodox schools, weekend language schools and a Theological College of St Andrew, and the Greek language media, were all essential in maintaining Greek culture once the immigrant flow stopped in the 1980s. This was achieved despite a gap between the conservative hierarchy and a more radical laity, and the regular swing from left to right and back in Greek national politics. All of this was publicised through strong and varied Greek-language media.

The Macedonian Church17 If the Greek Church stands out in Australian society, the Macedonians are at the margin. No other Orthodox Church recognises their legitimacy, their state had officially to bear the unwanted title ‘former Yugoslav republic’, and it was years after independence before the promise of an embassy in Australia was finally realised. While Macedonians have settled in Australia throughout the last century, most have remained in the working class or as small businesses, characteristics which the mass immigration of the late twentieth century did not change.18 The Bulgarians and Greeks regard Macedonian as a Bulgarian dialect, and the Serbians refer to this small country as ‘South Serbia’. Prior to independence twenty years ago, in 2,000 years they have never had an independent state, and are the only European country whose borders are entirely controlled by actual or potential enemies. Yet the Macedonian Orthodox Church is the second largest such church in Australia, with over 50,000 adherents and active and viable congregations in Victoria, New South Wales and Western Australia. They were also the only one of the Yugoslav states to secure their independence without violence or generating refugees. With exceptions, both the Church and the laity have had a warmer attitude to their homeland government than many other Orthodox. They are, nevertheless, heavily implicated in Balkan politics. The peoples inhabiting the large region of Macedonia were predominantly Orthodox throughout its long occupation by the Ottoman Empire from 1371. However, their Turkish rulers did not approve of a distinct church. They were competed for by the Greek and Bulgarian churches until partition between these states and Serbia by the Balkan wars of 1912–14. The majority were then incorporated into the new kingdom of Yugoslavia, which did not recognise Macedonians as a distinct people, leaving a minority behind in Greece. Consequently when Macedonians emigrated to Australia they celebrated their rites of passage with the Greek, Russian, Syrian or Serbian churches. When a Macedonian church was eventually set up in Melbourne in 1950 it came under the control of the Bulgarian Orthodox. Against the background of the creation of an autonomous republic of Macedonia within Yugoslavia in 1944, and the split between Tito and the Soviet Union and its Bulgarian satellite, this was unacceptable to those describing themselves as Macedonians.

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However, a court case in 1986 resolved control in the hands of the Bulgarian diocese of the United States, Canada and Australia. An autonomous Macedonian Orthodox Church was established in Skopje in 1958 and in 1959 the foundation of St George’s was laid in Fitzroy (Melbourne), the first Macedonian Orthodox church outside Macedonia. A constitution of the Macedonian Orthodox Community of Melbourne and Victoria was legally registered. From then on the growing Macedonian population was served by a comparable spread of churches and monasteries. Six churches were opened between 1968 and 1972, of which four were in New South Wales. However because of its formation for political reasons and the claim of Greece on the locational name ‘Macedonia’, the Macedonian Church has never been accepted into communion with Orthodoxy despite its theoretical descent from the Archdiocese of Ohrid, abolished by the Ottoman rulers in 1767. This diocese was restored under Tito, but was claimed by the Serbian Church. This non-recognition has not seriously disadvantaged the Church or interfered with its usually friendly relations with the Macedonian Republic, which became independent in 1991, nor with its communities in Australia. But the dispute with Greece has led to serious economic and transport difficulties. Relations with Bulgaria have been distant but neutral, but the Serbian Church still regards the Macedonian Church as not canonical. The main internal strain on Macedonia is unrelated to these tensions, involving the large Albanian Muslim minority bordering on Kosovo and Albania. Macedonia is a secular state, but the Church enjoys a majority and a special place in the state and the Australian diaspora. Both before and after independence in 1991 the Yugoslav and then Macedonian governments have been closely involved in Church affairs. Tensions between new arrivals and the longer established Macedonians based on pre-war immigration broke out in 1997, leading to the creation of a separate church in Adelaide. The larger of the two churches, under Bishop Petar Karevski, is recognised in Skopje. Petar was also in conflict with some communities over his support for legislation which would have transferred all community property to him as bishop and diocesan administrator.19 Petar does not live in Australia but in Bitola (Macedonia) and was involved in Macedonian politics as a critic of President Boris Trajkovski in 2002. He is officially the ‘administrator’ for Australia and New Zealand rather than the metropolitan. Without a fully resident head the Australian church is vulnerable to disagreement.

The Serbian churches20 The Serbian Orthodox Church is among the oldest of the Orthodox churches, founded by St Sava in 1219. But its history in Australia, where it has 40,000 adherents, is relatively recent. Its first parish was formed in Warriewood (Sydney) in 1951 on the basis of a small pre-war settlement. But its greatest

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support came from refugee arrivals from the Chetnik forces led by General Draža Mihailović in German-occupied Yugoslavia (1941–4). These had been defeated by the communists led by Tito. Mihailović was executed by the new communist government in 1946. The Chetniks were royalists and loyal to exiled King Peter of Yugoslavia, who later gave his support to the autonomous church originally set up in Libertyville, IL, in 1931 under the America and Canada diocese. Supporters of Tito had returned to Yugoslavia after the war, leaving only small groups of Serbs in Sydney and Perth who were sympathetic to the communist regime. These continued to recognise the Patriarch in Belgrade. For several years the Serbian Orthodox in Australia also accepted the primacy of the Belgrade Patriarch, despite his relative closeness to the communist government. However, King Peter in Europe and the diocese in Illinois were aligned with the Chetniks and hostile to Tito, even after his break with the Soviet Union in 1948. The first Chetnik refugees arrived in Australia in 1948. Church organisation followed within three years. The first church was built in Strathfield (Sydney) in 1954. Despite concern about the Belgrade Patriarch and hostility to local Tito supporters, an uncomfortable unity lasted until 1963. The Free Serbian Orthodox Church was established by the Illinois diocese in 1964 and joined by the great majority of Australian parishes. For the next thirty-six years there were two competing organisations in several parishes, often with separate churches both dedicated to St Sava. Clergy were sent out from the United States to replace those remaining loyal to Belgrade, including the first two bishops, Dimitrie and Petar. Thirteen Australian parishes sided with the Free Church and only four with Belgrade. The Chetniks were in control, but were gradually challenged by new arrivals from Yugoslavia under a migration agreement signed by Australia in 1970. This increased the potential membership of both rivals and also increased the number of Macedonian Orthodox. The newcomers were less committed to the struggle against communism, especially after Tito died in 1980 and the state he created disintegrated under his successors. The basis for unity was developing and the two churches agreed to parallel structures in 2000, allowing the clergy to retain their posts and the parishes their funds. It was headed by a single bishop, Irinej (Dobrilović), Metropolitan of Australia and New Zealand, and accepted the Serbian Patriarch in Belgrade. By then Yugoslavia had ceased to exist and Serbia was once more a state. It became even more acceptable in the diaspora with the overthrow of President Milosevic in 2000.21

The Russian churches22 The Russian Orthodox Church inherited the mantle of the Byzantine Empire after the fall of Constantinople to the Turks in 1453. Its imperial expansion and protection of Balkan Christians caused Orthodoxy to stretch from Alaska to Palestine and Finland. Yet it later became the longest sufferer under

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communism, generating many thousands of refugees who fled to France, China, Germany, the United States, Yugoslavia and, in small numbers, to Australia, where few but sailors had ever ventured. Russia made extensive discoveries in the Antarctic and Pacific oceans. Historical accounts record that the first Orthodox service in Australia was held at Easter 1820 in Sydney on the Russian exploration ship Vostok. Ships continued to arrive regularly until the Crimean war in 1853. Very few Russians remained, however, to establish a church. Orthodox services in Melbourne were conducted in Greek, Russian and Arabic. By 1895 there were said to be 3,000 Russians in Australia but still no church or priest. One eventually arrived in Brisbane in 1916, just before the two revolutions of the following year. This began the traditions that Russian religious life would centre on Brisbane and be based on refugees from communism. In 1922 the Russian Orthodox Church Abroad (or outside Russia) was formed by clergy in the United States, Yugoslavia and China in reaction against the militant atheism of the Bolsheviks. In 1927 this formally renounced the Moscow Patriarchate. Two elements went to sustaining the Russian Orthodox Church Abroad in Australia before the end of communism and the dissolution of the Soviet Union in 1991. One was the original refugees who had arrived in the 1920s, mainly through Shanghai. The other was the large expatriate communities in Manchuria and Sinkiang, with their focus in Harbin. About 2,500 Russian Orthodox were included amongst the post-war displaced persons, but Ukrainians were more numerous and over half of these were Eastern Rite Catholics. The first bishop of the Russian Orthodox Church Abroad in Australia, Theodore Rafalsky, was ordained in 1948, coming from a DP camp in Germany. With the communist victory in China in 1949 and the cultural revolution in 1966, the position of the Russians became very difficult. A rescue exercise was jointly organised by the World Council of Churches and its Australian affiliate.23 This brought many Russian Orthodox from China to Australia and gave new life to the Russian Church. Many were fluent in Chinese and the Russian Church has catered for this in several parishes.24 With the liberalisation of exit laws after 1991, some Soviet citizens joined this exodus. The number of Russian-born in Australia has not risen much since 1954 and many of these have been Jews. The Russian Church is thus rather elderly and conservative. It also faced the dilemma that the creation of the Russian Church Abroad may no longer seem relevant since the end of Soviet communism. With the revival of religion in Russia and the encouragement of Vladimir Putin, a reconciliation with Moscow was signed in 2007 as an Act of Canonical Communion. This leaves the Russian Orthodox Church Abroad free to organise throughout the world outside Russia. It maintains sixty-seven parishes and eleven monasteries in the Australian diocese and a Western rite monastery in Tasmania. Russian Orthodox number 20,000 in Australia, which exceeds the numbers born in the Russian Federation. Their main following is in Sydney, Melbourne and Brisbane.

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The Eastern churches The Middle Eastern, Indian and North African churches are not all in communion with the Patriarch of Constantinople, nor do they all subscribe to the Chalcedonian formulation. Communism did not directly affect them, with the exception of the Ethiopians. Between 1974 and 1991 Ethiopia was ruled by an eccentric version of Soviet communism, led by Haile Mariam Mengistu. While this had Soviet support, it soon degenerated into a ‘red terror’ which was embarrassing to its sponsors and led eventually in 1991 to Mengistu’s overthrow. The Derg, of which he was leader, was responsible for the murder of the Patriarch of the Ethiopian Church in 1977, following the death of Emperor Haile Selassie two years before. The Church was dispossessed of its property and Marxism-Leninism nominated as the official state ideology. Mengistu’s eventual overthrow caused him to flee to Zimbabwe, after a civil war and widespread massacres.25 The Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church in Australia was built on refugees from this regime and its accompanying civil wars and war with Somalia. Its origins were in the Egyptian Copts, but it gained autocephaly in 1948 and a patriarch in 1959. Its main Australian strength is in Melbourne. Under Haile Selassie it was the state church of Ethiopia, but was disestablished by Mengistu and not restored to communion with the Egyptian Copts until 2007. However, the Ethiopian state continued to appoint patriarchs even during the Mengistu regime and still does so today. This has caused a division in Melbourne, which was taken to the courts. The other Eastern Orthodox churches were not affected by communism to the same extent, but rather by Islamic hostility or local dictatorships. The largest in Australia is the Coptic Orthodox Church, with nearly 20,000 adherents. But the longest established are the Antiochian Orthodox, with fewer than 8,000.26 With the opening of the Suez Canal in 1869 and the exclusion of Lebanese Christians from the restrictive White Australia immigration policy, there was a small but continuing migration to Australia from the Middle East. This brought Lebanese Maronite Catholics and Antiochian Orthodox. Neither were affected by communism but both were accepted by Australia as refugees from the Lebanese civil wars of the 1970s. Both had already established small but economically successful communities in Sydney from the 1890s.27 The fragmented Christian societies of Lebanon and Iraq are strongly represented in Sydney, where the first settlement was established in the 1890s. But the four major Orthodox churches, the Antiochian, Syrian, Assyrian and Ancient Church of the East, together (18,894) are outnumbered by the Roman Catholic Maronites, Chaldeans and Melkites. The other non-Chalcedonian Church from this region, the Armenians, numbers 8,050. Of these only the Armenians lived under the Soviet system. In practice nearly all of those in Australia had already fled before the Ottoman massacres rather than the communists. They came from a variety of states such as Cyprus, Palestine/Israel

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or Syria. The largest of the Orthodox churches from the Middle East are the Copts, with nearly 20,000 living in several cities, but predominantly in Sydney. They have no experience of communism, but suffered under Egyptian nationalist and Muslim pressures, which included the exile into the desert of their pope, Shenouda III of Alexandria, from 1981 to 1985.28 Pope Shenouda has enthroned two Australian bishops, Suriel in Melbourne (1999) and Daniel in Sydney (2002). Several Australian churches expressed concern for the Copts, who suffered several riots during the overthrow of the Egyptian government in 2011. A high proportion of all Christians from the Middle East and North Africa came to Australia under the humanitarian and refugee programme, arriving mainly since 1975. The various South Indian churches resulted largely from recent immigration from Kerala, and the first Syrian Orthodox priest did not arrive in Sydney until 1978. The Malankara Mar Thomas Syrian Church has a diocese of Malaysia, Australia and Singapore. The Indian Orthodox Church in Sydney dates from 1998 and its cathedral was completed and consecrated in 2005 by His Grace Yakob Mar Irenaios. An earlier church in Melbourne, St Mary’s, Coburg, dates from 1980. The various Indian Orthodox churches appeal mainly to Malayali immigrants from Kerala.

Conclusion Each of the fifteen Orthodox churches surveyed here stands aside from Australian society in varying degrees. More clearly integrated are the Maronites, Chaldeans and Melkites, all of them allowed their own rites and practices within the Catholic Church, including the marriage of clergy. The Orthodox stand further off in many respects, as direct inheritors of the original Middle Eastern churches created by St Paul, St Mark and the Emperor Constantine, using such antique languages as Coptic, Ge‘ez, Aramaic, Syriac or Church Slavonic. Each Orthodox Church is identified with a particular ethnicity or language, nearly all of them unknown in Australia before 1900. Each Orthodox Church includes many or most of its adherents who came to Australia as refugees or fleeing from warfare. Even the Greeks and Macedonians, who seem like exceptions, often came following civil war or during the post-war dictatorships. Thus the relationship of the diaspora with the homeland is often ambiguous. With the fall of communism by 1991, this has become less difficult for the Europeans. But it remains a problem for those from Muslim societies. Without breaking all links with their origins, Australian Orthodox often sought the security of Australian citizenship, which is automatically granted to their locally born children. Since 2003 dual citizenship has been recognised by Australia. By 2006 those with a citizenship level above 80 per cent included Greeks, Serbs, Macedonians and Lebanese, by self-declared ancestry. Greeks in particular are now prominent in politics, business and the professions, where Australian citizenship is often preferred.29

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As Orthodoxy is multicultural the prospects of forming a single church seem remote. However, there has always been a degree of cooperation between different denominations through sharing premises and clergy, often on a multilingual basis. While this does not extend to churches seen as non-canonical like the Macedonians, there is also a degree of cooperation through substantial ecumenical activities, such as the National Council of Churches in Australia. Its member churches include the Antiochians, Armenians, Assyrian Church of the East, Coptic Orthodox, Greek Orthodox, Indian Orthodox, Mar Thoma Church, Romanians, Serbians and Syrians. Not all of these accept the Chalcedonian formulation. A notable absentee is the Russian Church Abroad,. Their main problem has been the ecumenical approach of the World Council of Churches, which included accepting the validity of non-Christian religions, especially those of recent origin. Nearly half the Council member organisations are Orthodox, though the largest are Catholic, Anglican and Uniting. Cooperation between specifically Orthodox churches includes a Standing Conference of Canonical Orthodox Churches, founded in 1979, and an Institute of Orthodox Christian Studies in Melbourne. The Institute was established in 2003 on the joint initiative of the Russian and Antiochian Orthodox churches. It is an affiliate of the University of Melbourne, offering courses in the Faculty of Theology. The Standing Conference was initiated in 1979 by Archbishop Stylianos (Greek Orthodox) and included the Antiochian, Greek Orthodox, Romanian Orthodox, Russian Church Overseas and Serbian Orthodox churches and a representative of the Ecumenical Patriarch in Constantinople. Internal disagreements have led to it becoming ineffectual and replaced by the Episcopal Assembly of all Canonical Orthodox Bishops of Oceania, which assembled in Sydney in 2010. This included most of the same churches and also representatives from New Zealand, Korea and Hong Kong.

Appendix Major Orthodox churches in Australia Greek Orthodox 152 parishes and part-time schools; 1 archbishop located in Sydney, 5 bishops and 3 assistants; St Andrew’s Greek Orthodox Theological College (Sydney); several secondary schools; 8 monasteries; authority ultimately from the Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew in Constantinople. Also under the authority of the Archbishop of Athens (Ieronymos) and Archbishop Stylianos in Sydney. Cathedral in Redfern, Sydney. Parishes in Canberra (1), New South Wales (34), Darwin (1), Queensland (10), South Australia (14), Tasmania (3), Victoria (42), Western Australia (6). Member of the National Council of Churches in Australia.

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Table 24.1 Orthodox and related membership in Australia in order of size, 2006 Census description

Number

Countries of origin

Greek Orthodox Eastern Orthodox nfda Macedonian Orthodox Serbian Orthodox Russian Orthodox Coptic Orthodox Armenian Apostolic Antiochian Orthodox Assyrian Church of the East Ukrainian Orthodox Syrian Orthodox Ancient Church of the East Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church Romanian Orthodox Albanian Orthodox

374,575 48,157 48,081 39,968 19,970 19,924 8,050 7,830 5,956 2,978 2,881 2,227 1,708

Greece, Cyprus, Egypt Romania or Macedonia Macedonia Serbia, Bosnia Russia, China Egypt, Sudan Armenia, Turkey, Egypt Lebanon Iraq, Kerala Ukraine Syria, Kerala Iraq Ethiopia

1,608 73

Romania Albania, Kosovo

Source: Australian Census of Population and Housing 2006.

Note: a nfd = not further defined. Most of these are Romanians or Macedonians by language. Total for above 583,986 (excluding some minor ‘incorrect’ responses). The published census does not detail schisms or factions within any specific Church or religion.

Primate of the Greek Orthodox Church in Australia: Archbishop Stylianos Harkianakis. Born in Crete in 1935. Studied in Constantinople and Germany; elected Archbishop of Australia in 1975. Orthodox representative in negotiations with the Vatican 1980–2003. Macedonian Orthodox Diocese of Australia and New Zealand; Metropolitan Petar of Prespa and Pelagonia (resident in Bitola, Macedonia); primate Archbishop Stephen of Ohrid and Macedonia; four monasteries; parishes in Canberra (1), New South Wales (9), Queensland (2), South Australia (2), Victoria (7), Western Australia (2). Not a member of the National Council of Churches. No website. Serbian Orthodox Serbian Orthodox Church in Australia and New Zealand includes the Serbian Orthodox Church of Australia and New Zealand (Sydney) and the Serbian Orthodox Diocese of Australia and New Zealand, New Granica Metropolitanate (formerly the Free Serbian Orthodox Church) in Canberra. Bishop Irinej (Dobrilović); 3 monasteries; 41 parishes. Member of the National Council of Churches.

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Diocesan Bishop: Irinej (Dobrilović), Bishop of Australia and New Zealand. Born in Cleveland, USA, in 1955 and educated in the United States, his training and career were all in the Free Serbian Church. He became Bishop of the Serbian Orthodox Diocese of Australia and New Zealand and also administrator of the New Granica Metropolinate. There are 2 parallel dioceses in Australia, both headed by Bishop Irinej Dobrilović but otherwise with distinct organisations. This results from the agreement between the Belgrade-orientated Church and the Free Church centred on the United States. They are known respectively as the Diocese of Australia and New Zealand and the Serbian Orthodox Diocese of Australia and New Zealand – New Granica Metropolinate. Russian Orthodox Australian and New Zealand Diocese of the Russian Orthodox Church; Moscow Patriarchate; Metropolitan Hilarion (Kaprai); Diocesan Administration in Croydon (Sydney) and cathedrals in Sydney, Brisbane and Melbourne; parishes in New South Wales (20), Victoria (7), Queensland (5), Tasmania (6), South Australia (3), Canberra (1), Western Australia (1); 5 monasteries. Not a member of the National Council of Churches. Archbishop of Sydney, Australia and New Zealand: Hilarion, First Hierarch of the Russian Orthodox Church outside Russia since 1996. Born Igor Kaprai in 1945 in Alberta (Canada) to Canadian Ukrainian parents. Educated in Canada and the United States and held 2 bishoprics in the United States. Archbishop of the Sydney, Australia and New Zealand diocese from 1996 and First Hierarch of the Russian Orthodox Church outside Russia in 2008. Coptic Orthodox Church 22 Australian Churches, 3 colleges and 2 monasteries. Member of the National Council of Churches. Bishop Daniel: Born in Sudan in 1959, studied at the College of Coptic studies in Cairo. Ordained as bishop in Sydney in 2002. Bishop Suriel: Born in Port Said, Egypt in 1963, educated in Australia, served as a parish priest in Hawai’i and ordained as a bishop in1997, and as Bishop of the diocese of Melbourne in 1999. Antiochian Orthodox Church Member of the National Council of Churches. 23 Australian Churches and 2 colleges. Metropolitan Archbishop of Australia and New Zealand: Paul Saliba was born in Lebanon in 1939. Educated in Lebanon and Greece. Ordained as a

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priest in 1966 and served in the United States from 1968 to 1989. Elected as Metropolitan Archbishop for Australia and New Zealand in 1999. Armenian Apostolic Church Member of the National Council of Churches. Two Australian Churches. Primate of Australia and New Zealand: Archbishop Aghan Baliozian was born in Aleppo (Syria) in 1961 and educated in Jerusalem, sent to Australia in 1975 as Vicar General of the Australian Diocese and became Archbishop in 1993. Assyrian Church of the East Member of the National Council of Churches. Four Australian Churches and 2 schools. Archdiocese of Australia and New Zealand: Mar Meelis Zala was ordained in California in 1982 and appointed Bishop of Australia and New Zealand in 1984 and metropolitan in 2008. Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church Not a member of the National Council of Churches; principal church in Melbourne; leadership in dispute. Indian Orthodox Church Bishop Yuhanon Mar Diascorus; Cathedral of St Thomas, Wattle Grove, Sydney; Member of the National Council of Churches. Also known as the Malankara Orthodox Syrian Church. Mar Thoma Church Bishop Joseph Mar Barnabas: Member of the National Council of Churches. Romanian Orthodox Church Romanian Patriarchate, Australian Eparchy; Bishop Mihail Filimon. Member of the National Council of Churches. Syrian Orthodox Church Archbishop Mor Malatius Malki Malki. Seven Australian Churches. Member of the National Council of Churches.

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Ukrainian Autocephalous Orthodox Church of North and South America and the Diaspora Metropolitan Mefodiy of Kyiv and All Ukraine. Not a member of the National Council of Churches. Internet addresses http://www.ministryblue.com/church-orthodox.html (Eastern and Oriental Churches in Australia) http://www.miocs.net/ (Melbourne Institute for Orthodox Christian Studies) http://www.sagotc.edu.au/ (St Andrew’s Greek Orthodox Theological College) http://www.orthodoxchristian.info (Greek Orthodox Archdiocese of Australia) http://www.soc.org.au/ (Serbian Orthodox Diocese of Australia and New Zealand) http://www.antiochian.org.au/ (Antiochian Orthodox Archdiocese of Australia and New Zealand) http://assyrianchurch.org.au/ (Holy Apostolic Catholic Assyrian Church of the East, Archdiocese of Australia, New Zealand and Lebanon) http://www/coptic.org.au/ (Coptic Orthodox Church, Diocese of Sydney and Affiliated Regions) http://www.rocor.org.au/ (Australian and New Zealand Diocese, Russian Orthodox Church outside Russia)

Notes 1 J. Jupp (ed.), The Encyclopedia of Religion in Australia, Melbourne: Cambridge University Press, 2009, pp. 472–512. S. Godley and P. J. Hughes, The Eastern Orthodox in Australia, Canberra: AGPS, 1996; Bishop I. Shevill, The Orthodox and Other Eastern Churches in Australia, Sydney: Anglican Information Office, 1975. 2 E. Kunz, Displaced Persons: Calwell’s New Australians, Canberra: Australian National University Press, 1988; J. Jupp (ed.), The Australian People, Melbourne: Cambridge University Press, 2001, pp. 62–78. 3 G. Tavan, The Long, Slow Death of White Australia, Melbourne: Scribe, 2006. 4 A. Batrouney and T. Batrouney, The Lebanese in Australia, Melbourne: AE Press, 1985. 5 M. Protopopov, A Russian Presence: A History of the Russian Orthodox Church in Australia, Piscataway, NJ: Gorgias Press, 2006. 6 H. Gilchrist, Australians and Greeks, 3 vols, Sydney: Halstead Press, 1995–2004, vol. 1; A. Tamis, The Greeks in Australia, Melbourne: Cambridge University Press, 2005; G. Bottomley, After the Odyssey: A Study of Greek Australians, St Lucia, Queensland: University of Queensland Press, 1979. 7 P. Hill, The Macedonians in Australia, Perth, WA: Hesperian Press, 1989. 8 P. B. Anderson et al., Eastern Orthodoxy in Australia, Sydney: Australian Council of Churches, 1987.

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9 J. Martin, Refugee Settlers: A Study of Displaced Persons in Australia, Canberra: Australian National University Press, 1965. 10 L. Silber and A. Little, The Death of Yugoslavia, London, Penguin Books, 1996; H. Poulton, The Balkans: Minorities and States in Conflict, London Minority Rights Publications, 1994. 11 Tamis, The Greeks in Australia. Gilchrist, Australians and Greeks; R. Clogg, A Concise History of Greece, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1992. 12 D. F. De Stoop, The Greeks of Melbourne, Melbourne: Transnational Publishing, 1996, pp. 40–8. 13 Tamis, The Greeks in Australia, pp. 104–16. 14 Ibid. 15 Clogg, Concise History. 16 De Stoop, Greeks of Melbourne; A. Papageorgopoulos, The Greeks in Australia: A Home away from Home, Melbourne: Alpha Books, 1981. 17 Hill, Macedonians in Australia; L. M. Danforth, The Macedonian Conflict, Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1995, pp. 85–253. 18 I. Najdovski, The Macedonians in Victoria, Melbourne: Macedonian Community Council of Victoria, 2007, pp. 80–94. 19 Sydney Morning Herald, 15 August 2002. 20 T. Kazich, Serbs in Australia, Canberra: Monastery Press, 1989; S. Alexander, Church and State in Yugoslavia since 1945, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1979. 21 R. Thomas, Serbia under Milosevic, London: Hurst & Company, 1999. 22 Protopopov, Russian Presence. 23 Ibid, pp. 230–6. 24 Ibid, p. 420. 25 H. G. Marcus, A History of Ethiopia, Berkeley: University of California Press, 2002. 26 A. T. Batrouney, The Lebanese in Australia, Melbourne: AE Press, 1985. This small census total is disputed by the Church. 27 J. McKay, Phoenician Farewell: Three Generations of Lebanese Christians in Australia, Melbourne: Ashwood House, 1989. 28 S. E. Ibrahim, The Copts in Egypt, London: Minority Rights Group, 1996. J. Watson, Among the Copts, Brighton: Sussex Academic Press, 2002; M. Attia, Coptic Orthodox Church of Australia 1969–1994, Sydney: Coptic Orthodox Publication and Translation, 1995. 29 G. Kanarakis, In the Wake of Odysseus: Portraits of Greek Settlers in Australia, Melbourne: RMIT University, 1997.

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Part II

Non-Chalcedonian churches

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25 The Armenian Apostolic Church Hratch Tchilingirian

When in 2001 the Armenian Apostolic Church celebrated the 1,700th anniversary of its founding and the country’s adoption of Christianity as the state religion in AD 301, the Republic of Armenia also celebrated the tenth anniversary of its independence from the Soviet Union and communist rule. Twenty years since independence, the Armenian Church, the only national institution that has existed continuously in Armenian history – even while Armenian statehood was lost for centuries – faces many challenges. While the physical rebuilding of churches and religious institutions continues in the post-Soviet era, one of the greatest challenges to the Church and its hierarchy in this age of globalisation is to make the Armenian Church relevant again for Armenian society. As a lay member put it in an open letter to the head of the Church: ‘What good is it to have newly built churches, institutions and properties if we are still unable to build the spiritual church of our people?’1 This chapter will present a discussion of the three main questions facing the Armenian Church in the post-Soviet era: (1) What is the role of the church in a post-Soviet society and in a country still in social, political and economic transition? (2) What are the challenges and complexities in church–state relations since independence; (3) What are the critical questions in the Church’s relationship with the Armenian communities spread around the world, where more Armenians live than in the Republic of Armenia? Today, the overwhelming majority of Armenia’s population of 3 million adheres, at least nominally, to the Christian faith (98.7 per cent).2 The Armenian Church or the ‘National Church’ – officially called the Armenian Apostolic Orthodox Church3 – is the largest religious institution in the country.4 Since independence in 1991, however, other denominations and religious movements have challenged the primary position of the Church and introduced ‘competition’ in the religious sphere. In addition to Christian denominations, alternative religious movements have appeared in Armenia, including Jehovah’s Witnesses, Mormons, the International Society for Krishna Consciousness, Transcendental Meditation and pagans.5 Nevertheless, the Armenian Church, remains the largest national institution with around 500 parishes and churches in over 30 countries around the world and about 700 bishops and priests

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serving an estimated 8 million Armenians living in Armenia, Karabakh and the diaspora.6

History and hierarchy Traditionally, it is believed that two of Christ’s Apostles, Thaddeus and Bartholomew, preached Christianity in Armenia as early as the second half of the first century. Armenia is considered to be the first nation to adopt Christianity as its state religion in 301 through the efforts of Gregory the Illuminator (c. 240–325) and King Tiridates III (c. 238–314).7 The Armenian Church belongs to the Orthodox family of churches, known as the Oriental Orthodox or ‘Non-Chalcedonian’ churches. It shares many commonalities with the Byzantine and Slavic Orthodox and Roman Catholic churches, especially in the liturgy, but differs over certain theological issues. The main theological differences between the Armenian Church (and generally Orthodox churches) and the Roman Catholic Church are related to papal supremacy and papal infallibility. There are also other minor differences between these two branches of Christianity, for example, regarding the rules of fasting; unleavened bread at the Eucharist (West); the manner of conferring confirmation; the celibacy of the clergy; divorce (not sanctioned in Roman Catholicism); and purgatory (which the East does not teach). On the other hand, the main difference between the Byzantine tradition (Eastern Orthodox) – also known as Chalcedonian churches – and the Armenian Church (along with the Oriental Orthodox churches) has been on the issue of Christology, namely, regarding the dogma on Christ’s Divine and Human natures.8 While Christological terminology and debates might seem trivial to laymen, the theological controversy continued for centuries, often becoming a matter of political influence and expediency. In 1990, the theologians and official representatives of both Eastern (Byzantine and Slavic) and Oriental Orthodox churches – after years of dialogue and consultation – agreed in a formal statement that their theological understanding, especially their Christology, is ‘orthodox’. The statement called for unity and communion between the two branches of Orthodox Christianity. The document was sent to the respective leaders of the participating churches for review and formal approval. The active dialogue and formal discussions in recent years have fostered a movement towards restored communion among the Orthodox churches.9 The Armenian Church has been actively involved in the ecumenical movement since the 1960s through the World Council of Churches, as well as bilateral commissions and dialogues with the Roman Catholic Church, the Byzantine Orthodox churches, especially the Russian and Greek churches, the Anglican Church and others. It maintains close working relations with the Oriental Orthodox family of churches with which she is in communion, comprising the Coptic, Syrian Orthodox, Ethiopian and Indian Malabar churches.10 The Catholicosate of All Armenians – also known as the ‘Mother See of Holy Ejmiatsin’ – is the supreme ecclesiastical centre of the Church, located

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in the town of Vagharshapat, 25 km from Yerevan. It is recognised as ‘preeminent’ among the four Hierarchical Sees of the Church, which include the Catholicosate of Cilicia located in Antelias, Lebanon (founded in 1930, but with roots going back to the thirteenth century), the Patriarchate of Jerusalem from the early fourteenth century and the Patriarchate of Constantinople in Istanbul established in 1461 by the Ottoman Sultan. The ‘Catholicos of All Armenians’ is elected for life by the National Ecclesiastical Assembly – the highest legislative body in the Church – and enjoys ‘primacy of honour’ among the other hierarchical heads.11 The National Assembly comprises twothirds lay representatives of Armenian people from around the world and one third clergy. The delegates to the Assembly are elected by church communities in Armenia, Karabakh and the Diaspora. Likewise, the Catholicos of Cilicia and the Patriarch of Constantinople are elected by lay and clergy in national ecclesiastical assemblies. The Patriarch of Jerusalem is the exception, elected solely by the clerical brotherhood (consisting only of monks). The involvement of laymen in the affairs of the Armenian Church is one of its unique features. Unlike, for example, the Roman Catholic Church and the Orthodox churches of the Byzantine tradition, which maintain monarchical and aristocratic structures, lay people actively participate in the administrative, legislative and economic affairs of the Armenian Church. Indeed, the tradition of lay involvement in the election of bishops and catholicoi goes back to ancient times.12 However, decisions concerning faith, dogma, liturgy or spirituality remain in the exclusive domain of the College of Bishops of the Church and the Catholicos. Each Hierarchical See in the Armenian Church has its own religious order (brotherhood), ecclesiastical jurisdiction over a region with dioceses and parish churches and internal administrative by-laws. These Hierarchical Sees are not separate churches, but are part of the ‘One, Holy, Apostolic Church’ (as pronounced in the Creed) and are one in dogma, theology, liturgy and rendered services. The Catholicate of All Armenians is recognised as the ‘pre-eminent’ see (Naxamecar Atoŕ) among the four Hierarchical Sees of the Church. The Patriarchs of Jerusalem and Constantinople have the rank of Archbishop. They are autonomous in the internal affairs of their Patriarchate and pledge canonical allegiance to the Catholicate of All Armenians. The Catholicos of Cilicia in Lebanon is equal in rank, but not in position, to the Catholicos of All Armenians. Both are consecrated by the same rite of the Church and enjoy the same privileges of a catholicos, namely, the consecration of bishops and blessing of Holy Muron. However, as has been the case historically, the Catholicos of Cilicia recognises the primacy of honour of the Catholicos of All Armenians in Ejmiatsin.13

Under communist rule The Armenian Church, as was the experience of all other churches and religious groups in the USSR, suffered enormously under Soviet rule, antireligious propaganda and state-sponsored atheistic indoctrination. Like

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her counterparts, the Armenian Church was persecuted, especially in the 1920s and 1930s. A vast number of church properties were lost, priests were exiled or executed, assets and treasures of Ejmiatsin were confiscated and the Church was reduced to its liturgical functions.14 While attempts by local Soviet Armenian authorities to close down the Holy See of the Armenian Church in Ejmiatsin did not completely succeed, the seven years following the assassination of Catholicos Khoren (Muradbekian) – at his headquarters in Ejmiatsin on 6 April 1938 by NKVD agents15 – were among the most difficult periods in the history of the Catholicosate. In addition to the loss of property and income, out of some seventy to seventy-five clergy in Ejmiatsin all but seven were arrested and exiled for ‘anti-revolutionary activities’ and hundreds of churches were closed. By 1940 there were only nine functioning Armenian churches in the entire Soviet Union.16 In general, the Church in Soviet Armenia ‘was kept on a very tight leash, reduced to just a remnant of its former glory’.17 It was thanks to the importance of the Catholicosate of All Armenians in Ejmiatsin and to the large Armenian diaspora that the centuries-old institution was saved from ‘complete oblivion’.18 Persecution and pressure eased after Stalin’s death19 and the election of the Romanian-born Catholicos Vazgen I (Baljian) in 1955 ushered in a new period in the life of the Church. Under his leadership, the Church gradually came out of its isolation. Using the Church’s long-established network of dioceses and churches around the world, he created bridges between Soviet Armenia and the diaspora through Ejmiatsin and strengthened relations with wealthy communities and institutions outside the USSR. This increased Ejmiatsin’s prestige in the eyes of the communists, who were ever mindful of projecting a good image abroad, and asserted the Catholicos’s national position. Moreover, numerous donations and sponsorship from the diaspora enabled Vazgen I to renovate many historic churches and monasteries and to engage in cultural-educational activities inside Soviet Armenia, including the construction of a modern museum and the establishment of a new printing press in Ejmiatsin. Leading the Church for nearly forty years – one of the longest-serving pontiffs in the history of the Church – Vazgen I, too, endured state pressures and interference in church affairs. But, over the years, he came to be respected and recognised as a ‘national figure’ in Soviet Armenia. By the late 1970s, the Church enjoyed more freedom to carry out its basic religious functions and the number of active churches reached forty. An important development was government permission granted to the Catholicos to send young priests abroad to further their theological education at Western universities. In the late 1980s Mikhail Gorbachev’s glasnost and perestroika heralded a new era for the Church under communism and brought changes of attitude in government and society. Matters of church and religion, in general, were openly and publicly discussed. As in other former Soviet republics, the old socio-political boundaries changed: a process of social relocation and the strengthening of old identity references were soon put in place. The

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restoration of the ‘national character’ of Armenia and Armenian institutions was part of this process, which included, for example, renaming cities, towns, villages and streets. The return to religion and spirituality, enhanced by perestroika, coincided with several major national events and developments, which have had a farreaching impact on Armenia and Armenians: (1) the Karabakh Movement which started in February 1988 and later turned into an independence movement; (2) the devastating earthquake in December of the same year; (3) the pogroms of Armenians in Azerbaijani towns; (4) the war with Azerbaijan in and for Nagorno-Karabakh and (5) the subsequent economic and energy blockade of Armenia by Azerbaijan and Turkey, which created harsh conditions for the population, especially in the winters of 1992 and 1993. As one young clergyman commented, these major events ‘created a new process of national self-examination and self-assertion’.20 The ‘mother church’ was expected – at least from the point of view of the clergy – to play a role in these ‘historic’ developments. The beginning of the Karabakh Movement in early 1988 – demanding the reunification of Nagorno-Karabakh (an autonomous region within Azerbaijan SSR) with Armenia – was a major test of Gorbachev’s new policy of openness and a major turning point in Soviet Armenia. The conflict between Armenians and Azerbaijanis over Karabakh – a small enclave of 4388 sq. km, with a population of about 150,000 – is the oldest conflict in the former Soviet Union, starting in the 1920s. A popular movement for selfdetermination by Karabakh Armenians turned into a full-scale war between Armenians and Azerbaijanis in 1991. The war is not officially over, but a fragile ceasefire since May 1994 is still in force.21 As the Karabakh Movement gained strength in both Yerevan and Stepanakert, the capital of the enclave, and some 1 million Armenians demonstrated in the streets of Yerevan, it attracted extensive international attention and became an urgent matter for Gorbachev and the Communist Party leadership in Moscow. In the early stages of the movement, the role of the Armenian Church, personified in Catholicos Vazgen, was ambiguous. On the one hand, Ejmiatsin was reluctant to publicly oppose the Kremlin’s policies, on the other, as an Armenian national institution, the Church could not be indifferent to the popular struggle. Catholicos Vazgen argued that Armenia’s survival was only possible ‘within the great and mighty family of Soviet nationalities’ and popular demands for Karabakh’s union with Armenia would not lead to any tangible results.22 Based on his decades-long experience with Soviet authorities, he feared – as expressed in his appearance on Armenian television – an anti-Soviet movement would lead to ‘offer[ing] Armenia on a platter to our centuries-old enemy’.23 As such, throughout the initial phase of the movement in Armenia, he appealed for ‘good sense, farsightedness and discipline’.24 However, Vazgen I was widely criticised by both intellectuals and the public for not supporting the people and for accommodating the policies of Soviet

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authorities. Some demonstrators during street protests in Yerevan carried placards declaring: ‘The Catholicos has crucified our faith.’25 In response to his critics, Vazgen I assured the people on Armenian television (25 February 1988) that he had sent a telegram to Gorbachev supporting the calls of the people: ‘I believe that this demand is natural, legal and constitutional’, he said, appealing to the population ‘to remain calm and to await the decision of the Soviet authorities on the Karabakh’s status’.26 When a popular uprising flared up in the streets of Yerevan, the Communist Party leadership of Armenia was unable to control the escalation of the situation. Moscow sought Vazgen I’s help to exert his influence on the people, which he did. A few days later, on 29 February, Gorbachev reported to the Politburo: [Vazgen I] promised to use all his authority not to allow any anti-Sovietism. He had received many telephone calls from abroad. According to his word, he had given all of them this response: don’t interfere in these matters; there must be no anti-Sovietism; here, within the bounds of the Soviet Union, the Armenian nation is reviving. At the same time he said that real problems do exist, that these events have not arisen from nowhere. In this he referred to one example of his experiences.27 In an appeal during one of the most critical moments of the mass protests Vazgen I, appearing on television on 7 July 1988, shocked the population of Armenia with a harsh warning: ‘If you do not listen to me – your patriarch – I will curse my destiny and remain silent until eternity.’28 This ‘final call’ for calmness had a great impact in Armenia. By 1989, the Karabakh Committee, which grew out of the popular movement, had been successful in consolidating political activities in Armenia under the banner of the Armenian National Movement (ANM).29 The first congress of the ANM, with some 1,500 delegates, convened in Yerevan in October 1989. The Soviet Armenian government and the Armenian communist leadership officially recognised ANM. This was the beginning of the erosion of Soviet power in Armenia. In early November, the ANM delegates visited Ejmiatsin to meet with the Catholicos. Despite Vazgen I’s earlier cautious stance, the leaders of the Movement still considered him an important national figure and a supporter of pan-Armenian causes, especially in view of the fact that he had influence in the diaspora through the Church’s dioceses and parishes abroad. In his welcoming address, Vazgen I assured his audience, that ‘unlike other churches, we [the Armenian Church] are not preoccupied with inquisitions. All Armenians, whether believers or not, we consider them true children of the Armenian Church without discrimination.’30 He explained the place, role and position of the Church in the ‘long history’ of the Armenian nation and positioned the Church right in the centre of national life: The national identity of the Armenian nation, the national ethos of the Armenian people, and the national ideology of the Armenian people have

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been forged here at Holy Ejmiatsin. … All the significant events in our history have been … anchored on spiritual foundations, Christian faith, national literature, fortified culture, and liberation of the fatherland. Let it not be assumed that in the formation of the national ideology, the Armenian Church was a follower or a conformist. No. The Armenian Church for the past seventeen centuries has been the author and the leader [of these matters]. You can be assured that our Church, headed by Ejmiatsin, is always ready to open her arms and heart before all those Armenians, before those organisations, who would be willing to think, speak and work by this spirit and by properly understood national realization. This spirit … has preserved also our Church in the last decades, here in a Soviet country; even in the bad times of self-worship, though under isolated conditions, the Armenian Church has always kept the light of this spirit lit in Holy Ejmiatsin and in the diaspora. He then outlined three ‘important imperatives’ for Armenia: (1) ‘the guarantee and the strengthening of political security’ in view of Armenia’s geopolitical position; (2) reconstruction and development of the economy, especially after the earthquake; and (3) creation of uniformity to ‘advance the prosperity of Armenian national culture in the fatherland’.31 On the one hand, Vazgen I cautiously avoided endorsing the political aspirations of the ANM – in effect subordinating independence to security and democracy to national unity – on the other, he showed readiness to help in the ‘national struggle’.32 Most importantly, as ANM was quickly becoming the dominant political force in Armenia, Vazgen I made it very clear to the emerging new leadership that ‘the Church is not with any side, the Church is with all the sides’.33 He thus reiterated the Church’s place and legitimacy above and beyond the emerging national entities. When two years later Armenia became an independent state, the Catholicos was already fully behind the newly independent state and its leadership. In an appeal just before the national referendum on independence held on 21 September, Vazgen I declared: The cry for freedom and independence is the imperative of our centuriesold history, the dictate of our nation’s consciousness and the guarantee of our future existence. The Armenian Apostolic Church looks forward anxiously and unhesitatingly to hearing our people’s historical affirmation, and to following that voice. … On the horizon of the Armenian land there rises that star of independence. Blessings and glory to that radiating star, and to the forever free Armenian nation.34 Shortly after the overwhelming yes vote for independence, the Catholicos presided over the swearing in of the first democratically elected president of the newly independent Republic of Armenia and gave his blessing. As

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Armenia’s independence was eclipsed by the continuing conflict and war with Azerbaijan, the Catholicos continued to speak out for an end to the hostilities in Karabakh and for a peaceful resolution of the conflict.35 In terms of his standing in Armenia and the diaspora, while the entire communist leadership was discredited, the Catholicos was the only national figure who still enjoyed respect and public standing. Less than three weeks before his death in 1994, Vazgen I was the first national figure who was awarded the newly created highest honour of the Armenian state, the Order of National Hero.

Realities after independence The fall of communism and independence of Armenia in 1991 marked the beginning of many unprecedented events in the life of the Armenian nation, both in the Republic of Armenia and the diaspora. Independence has not only radically changed the way the Armenian diaspora – where more Armenians live than in Armenia itself – perceives and understands itself, but has created a ‘new’ discourse of mobilisation and ‘unity’, to face the colossal new challenges facing the ‘nation’. As a result of post-independence developments and resulting realities, institutional life, both in Armenia and the diaspora, has changed and continues to unfold. While the Armenian Apostolic Church, especially since the election of the current Catholicos in 1999, has flourished internally – with the building of new churches, seminaries, charitable institutions and so on – the Church has virtually had no functional role in the transitional processes of the last decade in Armenia and the diaspora concerning how the country and state have been shaped over the last twenty years.36 In the face of rampant corruption, social and economic inequalities, a lack of basic legal protection and other state-induced difficulties in post-Soviet Armenia, the ‘moral guidance’ and ‘spiritual anchor’ that society expected from the Church and her hierarchy was not provided. Although the Church is respected as a historically significant national institution, its establishment and the clergy remain on the periphery of the country’s spiritual life. For instance, a survey of 1,875 people around Armenia found that 60 per cent of respondents ‘did not know any clergy’. Of those who did, 20 per cent had a negative impression, 35 per cent a positive impression and 43 per cent were neutral.37 Interestingly, when intellectuals in Armenia were asked ‘which component [of religion] prevails in the average Armenian’s worldview?’ they replied: 34 per cent Christian, 32 per cent pagan, 24 per cent atheistic.38 Over 90 per cent of the population consider themselves Christian, yet only 8 per cent attend church services at least once a week.39 Admittedly, the consequences of decades of state-sponsored atheism in Soviet Armenia and the effects of secularisation and globalisation – or what Catholicos Garegin II has called the modern culture of ‘encouraged consumerism, decline of moral values, [and] self-centredness’ – have had their impact on society.40 As the authors of this study stated, ‘The situation in Armenia proper is still influenced by 70 years

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of anti-church propaganda. For many in Armenia, a well-educated Christian is a contradiction in terms. Religious faith is seen as incompatible with reason, knowledge, science and education.’41 In the global context, the decline of organised religion and institutionalised church life, especially in the West, has been gradual and significant over the last few decades. Yet the implications of this for the Armenian Church have hardly been studied or investigated. Until now, the church hierarchy, as with many other churches, has not been able to discern or articulate a role or function for the Church in an ever changing, globalised world. Rather than creating a new religious and spiritual discourse (‘mission’), church leaders have found ‘comfort’ in the reiteration of past glories and achievements in Armenian history. A vivid example of this was the celebrations of the 1,700th anniversary of the adoption of Christianity as the state religion in Armenia, where the past was highlighted and glorified, but without clear connection or relevance to the present or the future. The challenges facing the Armenian Church and its hierarchy in the twentyfirst century are many and varied, from the desired ‘re-evangelisation’ of the country after seventy years of communism, to the training of a new cadre of priests and church workers, to restoration of churches, the ‘fight’ against new religious movements and the situation of Armenian Church communities in the Middle East.

Challenges in the twenty-first century Relevance to society Once the initial euphoria of religious freedom faded, the transition from decades of ‘ungodliness’ under communism to ‘knowledge of God’ in a newly independent country proved to be more complex, problematic and difficult. For instance, on the individual level, reclaiming Armenian religion, vis-àvis the national church, became one of the means to assert the newly found freedoms of the country after the end of the USSR. Indeed, in the late 1980s and the early 1990s, it was fashionable to be baptised and become a ‘believer’, virtually overnight. However, neither society nor the religious establishment was prepared to accept the unexpected realities of freedom and liberty. This includes not only the ethical and moral guidance that was expected of the church leadership, but after decades of atheism the critical issues of ‘re-evangelisation’ of the population – as Catholicos Karekin I characterised it – the lack of a cadre of clergy who are adequately educated and trained and the non-existence of church communities or parishes around which church life could be organised in towns, cities and regions of Armenia.42 After the end of communism, society in Armenia, as in other post-Soviet countries, expected the Church to provide much-needed moral leadership in filling the ideological and spiritual gap left behind by the failure of Soviet ideology. In 1991, as one priest described it: ‘The responsibility to give shape and

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content to this [national and spiritual] awakening, together with its present and future direction, [had] fallen on the shoulders of the Armenian clergy.’43 Nevertheless, the Church was neither prepared nor had the capacity to deal with such an enormous challenge. After decades of pressure and restrictions, the Church was ill prepared, both in terms of human and material resources, to provide leadership and a response to the growing interest of people in religion, church and spirituality. ‘We never anticipated that the freedom of religion that was granted would create such a situation for which we were certainly not prepared’, admitted Catholicos Vazgen in 1992.44 This challenge was compounded – and continues to be complex – by the reality that, just as in Western Europe, for instance, allegiance to the ‘mother church’ is only nominal as part of one’s culture or national identity and not necessarily an expression of deep religious belief. Indeed, once the initial excitement over religious freedom in Armenia wore out by the early 1990s, it became obvious that the Armenian Church’s impact on individual religiosity in Armenia was and is minimal. Meanwhile, immediately after independence, the Church preoccupied itself with establishing its pre-Soviet status and reclaiming its legitimacy as a national institution, which, ironically, it already had. Other Armenian denominations – such as the small Catholic and Evangelical churches – and alternative religious groups engaged in the ‘re-evangelisation’ of the country.45 While multi-level transitions were (and are) taking place, the Church has remained on the periphery of both national life and society. Twenty years after independence, society still faces an endemic culture of corruption, socio-economic hardships, political turmoil and ideological disappointment. However, the national church has not been able to provide the expected moral, ethical and spiritual guidance to society. In fact, even on issues where the Church has traditionally had clear theological positions, such as abortion or domestic violence, the official Church has been publicly silent. When asked about such matters, Karekin II, former Catholicos of Cilicia said: ‘We don’t impose on our followers dogmatic principles on practical issues such as abortion or homosexuality. We have not come up with any official declaration or statement on this or that social issue, although, conceivably, we might give certain “directives” or recommendations.’46 While such moral issues are left to personal choice, the church leadership has not publicly spoken about corruption or state-inflicted injustice in the country, matters that have affected the daily lives of the public since independence. The legacy of long decades of communism has arguably had the greatest impact on theological education and the training of priests in seminaries. More than any other aspect of the country’s recent history, this has had long-term implications for the functioning of the Church not only during Soviet times, but even twenty years after independence. The lack of a critical number of well-educated clergy, with a well-rounded theological, biblical, philosophical and pastoral education, is a major problem facing the Church. This lack has a dire effect on the Church’s intellectual engagement with society. The low standard of theological education under Communism was due

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to several critical reasons. Not only was theological scholarship officially forbidden or at least discouraged, it was virtually impossible to train an indigenous cadre of theologians in Armenia. Under the strict Soviet rule, the standards of clergy education were determined by the functional needs of the Church. As such, the criteria for graduation from seminary were knowledge of the liturgical practices of the Armenian Church and some general knowledge of the Scriptures and church history. Indeed, over the Soviet decades, the Church had increasingly retreated into a ‘cultural ministry’ and came to see its primary role as the preserver of Armenian national identity. This greatly affected the Church’s ‘religious mission’. The lack of qualified teaching staff, textbooks in Armenian for theological and biblical subjects, adequate libraries or research resources compound this critical problem.47 In recent years, Catholicos Garegin II has spent considerable energy and financial resources on improving theological education and training clergy.48 While he has increased the number of clergy in Armenia nearly tenfold over the last decade or so, their impact on society in general and the formation of church communities (parishes) in particular remains to be seen. Church–state relations As in many other post-communist countries, the relationship of the Church with the state has been highly controversial and complex over the last two decades. After the collapse of the Soviet Union, there was an expectation that the Church would finally be free of state control and influence in an independent Armenia. Yet, while constitutionally church and state are separate, the Church has sought the patronage of the state – especially through legislation – to fend off the challenge and competition posed by other denominations, alternative religious movements and foreign missionaries. For instance, the Constitution of the Republic of Armenia (as amended in 2005), while guaranteeing freedom and practice of religion, ‘recognizes the exclusive historical mission of the Armenian Apostolic Holy Church as a national church, in the spiritual life, development of the national culture and preservation of the national identity of the people of Armenia’.49 In turn, successive governments have exploited their relations with the Church and the hierarchy to boost their own legitimacy, especially after unfair elections, and to augment their declining popularity in the diaspora. Over the last two decades, the Armenian Law on Religion and Freedom of Conscience has provided exclusive privileges to the Armenian Apostolic Church to the dismay of other religious groups and advocates of pluralism and democracy. Indeed, in a 2009 legal opinion poll on religious law in Armenia, the European Commission for Democracy through Law (known as the Venice Commission) – an advisory body on constitutional matters established by the Council of Europe in 1990, which plays a leading role in the adoption of constitutions to make sure they conform to European standards – expressed concern that while ‘the acknowledgement in Armenian law

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of the special historical role’ of the Armenian Apostolic Church is ‘not per se impermissible, [it] should not be allowed to lead to or serve as the basis of discrimination against other religious communities that may not have the same kind of special status’. It emphasised that ‘there is particular need to protect pluralism in religion which is an important element of democracy’.50 The Venice Commission had prepared the legal opinion poll upon the request of the Armenian government, to make sure its laws conform to international standards. Nevertheless, the practical effects of such legislation have caused discrimination, which has put the state in an uneasy position vis-à-vis human rights guarantees and international obligations. The government and the state apparatus were also instrumental in influencing the election of the head of the Armenian Church in 1995 and 1999 by making sure that a candidate favourable to the government was elected as Catholicos. On the eve of the election for a new Catholicos in 1995, when asked about the role of the Church in independent Armenia, President Ter Petrossian explained: It is true that along with the restoration of Armenian statehood, the church was relieved of its secular obligations. However, as long as a considerable number of Armenians live abroad, the church will preserve its role of uniting the Armenian people. The activities of the church in the nation’s spiritual and moral education should not be underestimated.51 In the same interview, Ter Petrossian openly endorsed the candidacy of Catholicos Karekin II (Sarkissian) of the Great House of Cilicia, who was elected Catholicos of All Armenians by the National Ecclesiastical Assembly made up of 430 delegates from 32 countries (74 per cent lay and 26 per cent clergy), representing over 8.5 million Armenians living in Armenia, Karabakh and around the world. Karekin I served for a short period of four years until 1999.52 Following the untimely death of Karekin I from cancer, the search for a new candidate focused on the question of whether the next Catholicos should be a native of Armenia (‘an insider’) or a diasporan (‘an outsider’). The Church establishment in Armenia, with its own cronyism, preferred continuity of the ‘status quo’ without major changes. The diaspora, in turn, had its own few candidates and felt the ‘inside–outside’ debate was offensive. A group of archbishops – including the Patriarchs of Jerusalem and Istanbul – publicly complained that the government of then President Robert Kocharian was unduly interfering in the election process.53 The government supported the candidacy of Archbishop Garegin Nercessian, the Vicar of the Pontifical Araratian Diocese in Yerevan, the largest diocese in Armenia, who had considerable support among the clergy and laity in Armenia. Indeed, in the previous election of 1995, Nercessian had received the largest number of votes in the first ballot, higher than Catholicos Karekin of Cilicia. But, under pressure, Nercessian withdrew his candidacy in the third ballot in favour of the candidate endorsed

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by President Ter Petrossian. Just as Ter Petrossian had secured the election of his predecessor, the Kocharian government secured Catholicos Garegin II’s election in 1999. He was elected by the National Ecclesiastical Assembly, made up of 455 lay and clergy delegates from 43 countries.54 The new Catholicos made the formalisation of the Church’s relationship with the state one of his top priorities. Shortly after his election, a ‘Memorandum of Understanding’ between the government of Armenia and the Armenian Church was signed in Ejmiatsin, in March 2000 in the presence of the Catholicos, the Prime Minister and President of the Constitutional Court of Armenia. The Catholicos explained that through this first-ever formal agreement with the Armenian state ‘all the spheres of cooperation will be fixed; where the Church and the State will undertake joint efforts directed to the sacred work of strengthening the Motherland and the Church, and creating a happy life for the people’. The Memorandum reiterated ‘the importance of the undeniable role and the significance of the Holy Armenian Apostolic Church in the further development and strengthening of Armenian statehood’. It had the ‘intention of better clarification of the essence of the relationship between the Republic of Armenia and the Armenian Apostolic Holy Church’. Most notably, the sides agreed to (a) further improve and develop regulations governing the relationship of the state and the Armenian Apostolic Church; (b) further ‘[c]larify the problems related to church lands and properties; (c) define ‘certain tax privileges’ for the Church and ‘its traditional organisations’; (d) clarify the Church’s role in state ceremonies and protocol; (e) recognise ‘the importance of the role and significance’ of the Church ‘in national educational-cultural, social security, health and spiritual spheres’; (f) acknowledge the priority of the Church’s ‘history, dogmatic preaching and education by the state mass media and during other state activities’; and (g) establish Armenian Church chaplaincies in the Army and prisons.55 All subsequent amendments to the Law on Freedom of Conscience and Religion in Armenia were ‘informed’ by the intent and spirit of the Memorandum of Understanding, which became the ‘Law on the Relationship between the Republic of Armenia and the Holy Apostolic Church of Armenia’, signed by the President on 14 March 2007.56 Following Armenia’s independence, the Church heavily lobbied and was instrumental in the drafting of the 1991 Law on Religious Organisations in Armenia, in which the Armenian Church is given certain privileges and declared the ‘National Church’ of Armenians.57 Subsequent amendments further solidified the special status of the Armenian Church. For instance, the state ‘shall not obstruct the realisation of the following missions that are the monopoly of the National Church’, such as, ‘to preach and spread its faith freely throughout the Republic of Armenia. The official coverage of the religious practice of the Armenian Apostolic Church by the mass media or in mass events may be carried out only with the consent of the Armenian Apostolic Church.’ The Helsinki Committee of Armenia, a human rights group which has carried out an extensive study of freedom of religion in Armenia, reports

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that such ‘monopolies contradict the Republic of Armenia’s Constitution, the Law, and various other laws and legal acts’ of Armenia.58 As noted by local and international observers, the current law on religion makes it more difficult for non-apostolic denominations and religious groups to register and function in Armenia. Collaboration for Democracy, an NGO in Armenia, in an analytical report on the development of the law since Armenia’s independence, asserted: ‘It seems that [new] amendments to the Law which had to eliminate the Law’s [previous] shortcomings and controversies, instead made the Law more confusing than it was.’59 Even as there was ‘sympathy’ in the early 1990s to give the Armenian Church certain privileges so that she may recover from decades of communism, in at least the last ten years, special privileges granted to the Church have come under criticism by local human rights organisations. Indeed, the ‘chances’ given to the Church in the early years of independence to recover herself have now become controversial privileges and rights written into law.60 Meanwhile, the Armenian state’s imprecise and, at times, contradictory laws on religion have made other established religious groups more anxious that they are not seen as equal under the law. As Pope John Paul II told Armenia’s ambassador to the Vatican in 1995: It is not the [Catholic] Church’s desire that she should enjoy special privileges from the Armenian Government, but that she should enjoy the freedom to act, according to the Gospel mandate which has been given her. This involves the freedom to organize herself at the local and national levels in order better to meet the spiritual needs of the Catholic faithful and to be able to extend compassion and help where required.61 Regarding the more recent draft law on religion, the Venice Commission in its report requested by the government of Armenia, notes that: It should be borne in mind that, as emphasized by the U.N. Human Rights Committee, ‘The fact that a religion is recognized as a state religion or that it is established as official or traditional or that its followers comprise the majority of the population, shall not result in any impairment of the enjoyment of any of the rights under the Covenant [ICCPR] … nor in any discrimination against adherents of other religions or nonbelievers.’62 However, limitations on the activities of other denominations are not confined to the legal sphere. Catholicos Garegin II was blunt about his dissatisfaction with, for example, the Armenian Evangelical Church in Armenia. He said in an interview: It is regrettable for us to note that the relationship [between the Armenian Church and the Armenian Evangelical Church] is not in good condition,

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because of the missionary activities of the Armenian Evangelical Church. … We would understand missionary work if it were carried out in a place of unbelief, where there is no Christian faith. And it is unforgivable and condemnable when you come and preach to a child of the Armenian Apostolic Church, to turn him a follower of the Armenian Evangelical Church. This is, indeed, the incorrect understanding of missionary work.63 Indeed, the development of church–state relations in Armenia over the last two decades has been favourable to the Church, especially since the election of Catholicos Garegin II in 1999. For the Catholicos, the primary position of the Armenian Church, above other denominations, is very clear: The Armenian Church is the basic anchor of Armenian identity and its preservation. This formulation is clearly written in the Constitution of the Republic of Armenia. The Church is a National Church; the Church has walked with this people for 1700 years, the Church has taught and educated her children, has shaped its value system, its character and identity. And today [the Church] continues this divine mission.64 Catholicos Garegin II has been quite successful in negotiating with the state the return of churches and properties confiscated during the Soviet period – some 150 churches and religious buildings have already been returned to the Church. This is a vast improvement on a handful of church buildings in Soviet times.65 Many churches and monasteries have been renovated. ‘The church did the impossible’, said Garegin II. ‘In a very brief period we trained hundreds of teachers, established new educational and theological institutions, and sponsored youth work.’ But he was also aware of the enormous amount of work ahead: ‘All that we did is really nothing in view of the huge needs that still exist in the country.’66 The Church and the diaspora Beyond the Republic of Armenia, for centuries the Armenian Apostolic Church has been of significance to Armenian communities dispersed throughout the world. Today more Armenians live in the diaspora than in the Republic of Armenia. The largest communities are in the Russian Federation (about 2 million); the United States (1.2 million); Europe (600,000); and the Middle East (350,000). The Catholicosate of All Armenians, recognised as the ‘preeminent’ or ‘Mother’ See in the Armenian Church, has dioceses and church communities in over thirty countries. The largest dioceses are in the Russian Federation and the United States. Furthermore, it is historically, politically and sociologically significant that three of the four Hierarchical Sees of the Armenian Apostolic Church are located in the diaspora, in the Middle East: the Catholicosate of Cilicia in Antelias, the Patriarchate of Jerusalem, and

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the Patriarchate of Constantinople in Istanbul. These Hierarchical Sees have their respective monastic brotherhoods, dioceses and church communities in their regions and beyond. The Armenian Church faces a wide range of challenges in the diaspora as communities in various continents and countries live under various political, cultural, social and economic conditions. For instance, at the beginning of the twenty-first century, the communities in the Middle East face a host of critical internal and external issues. Internally, the questions of integration, assimilation, preservation and maintenance of community institutions are among the most hotly debated issues from Beirut to Aleppo, to Cairo, Tehran and Istanbul. Externally, the security situation and ongoing conflicts, religious fundamentalism in recent years, the state-constructed and state-tolerated ‘othering’ of minorities and socio-economic conditions have caused the mass emigration of Christians in general and Armenians in particular.67 In the West, the Church faces internal and external challenges. Internally, the Church needs to address the expectations and needs of third- and fourth-generation Armenians in Europe and North America, for instance. Externally, the biggest challenges for the Church are ideological and socio-cultural trends, especially secularism, atheism and liberalism in society. In the twenty-first century, connecting with new generations of Armenians growing up around the globe is perhaps the biggest challenge to the Church. What is the relevance of a 1,700-year-old Church to Armenians living in a global society today, in a ‘modern’ world characterised by expectations of instant gratification, constant stimulation and entertainment? What is the relevance of a Church in the ‘information age’, where a new social-economic ‘lexicon’ dominates contemporary thinking? It is a world where ‘Facebook, ‘Twitter’, ‘iCloud’ are more familiar concepts than ‘Holy Trinity’, ‘salvation’, ‘sin’, ‘repentance’ or ‘obedience’. This challenge, of course, is not unique to the Armenian Church. But what is unique to the Armenian Church is the fact that while it is small in relation to other churches, it is a global church as there are Armenians in over 100 countries. Another long-term issue for the Church’s relationship with communities in the diaspora is the changing demographic of clergy. The diaspora is not producing native-born clergy and relies on Ejmiatsin to provide parish priests and diocesan bishops. Neither Ejmiatsin nor the Church as a whole has seriously addressed this issue, which has a lasting impact on its mission and viability in the diaspora. Just as the lack of a sufficient number of well-trained clergy is affecting the Church’s engagement with society, in the diaspora the need for qualified priests and lay church workers is even more dire and urgent. While it might take decades to mitigate this problem, the hierarchy neither in Armenia nor in the Diaspora has seriously assessed the implications of this deficiency in the coming years. Finally, the long conflict between the Catholicosate of All Armenians in Ejmiatsin and the Catholicosate of Cilicia in Antelias, Lebanon is a major wound in the history of the Armenian Church in the diaspora.68 During the Cold War, the administrative schism in the Church took on a political slant,

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whereby the Catholicos in Ejmiatsin became known as ‘pro-Soviet’ and that in Antelias was ‘anti-Soviet’. At that time the Catholicosate of Cilicia had come under the influence of the Armenian Revolutionary Federation (ARF) – a nationalist party (founded in 1890), which was involved in anti-Soviet politics in Lebanon in the 1950s. With this background, the Cilician See stepped out of its historically recognised ecclesiastical boundaries (Syria, Lebanon, Cyprus) and established counter-dioceses in the United States, Iran and Greece, thus putting the ‘division’ in the Church on a jurisdictional level. This diocesan, jurisdictional and highly politicised dispute is the longest unresolved problem in the Church. It remains to be seen whether the Armenian Church will be able to liberate herself from the influence of political parties in the diaspora, namely ARF and its affiliates, and resolve her internal and anachronistic disputes to clear the way for a new mission for the twenty-first century.

Conclusion Against the background of a century of military, political, socio-economic and ideological turmoil and transformational events, the Armenian Church’s hierarchy entered the twenty-first century with a hazy concept for the future, both in terms of their mission in the coming years and in terms of the fundamental basis of church–community relations. Internal and external challenges presented to the Church and its hierarchy require visionary leadership and not mere management of existing affairs. Continuous study, discernment and learned understanding of the ‘flock’ and its needs are the most important requirements for the articulation and implementation of a clear mission and direction in the twenty-first century. In a global age, the expectations of a ‘global church’ are many and varied, the least of which are serious internal reforms and transparency, a clear understanding of its mission and intellectual engagement with the laity. These critical questions will continue to challenge the church hierarchy for many decades to come.

Appendix 1

Religious leaders

Supreme Patriarch and Catholicos of All Armenians • • •

Vazgen I (Paljian) (1908–94), in office 1955–94 Karekin I (Sarkissian) (1932–99), in office 1995–9 Karekin II (Garegin Nersisyan) (1951–), in office 1999–.

Catholicos of the Great House of Cilicia (Lebanon) • •

Karekin II (Sarkissian) (1932–99), in office 1977–94 Aram I (Keshishian) (1947–), in office 1995–.

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Patriarch of Jerusalem •

Torkom II (Manoogian) (1919–2012), in office 1990–2012.

Patriarch of Constantinople •

Mesrob II (Mutafyan) (1956–), in office 1998–.

2

Biography

Title: Supreme Patriarch and Catholicos of All Armenians. Catholicos Karekin II (Garegin Nersisyan) was born in Voskehat, Armenia on 21 August 1951. He studied at the seminary of the Catholicosate of All Armenians in Ejmiatsin from 1965 to 1971, as well as in Germany and Russia. After graduation, he was ordained a celibate priest in 1972 and took monastic vows. He was consecrated a bishop in 1983 by Catholicos Vazken I and served as the Vicar (Primate) of the Pontifical Diocese of Ararat, the largest diocese in Armenia headquartered in the capital Yerevan. He was made an archbishop in 1988. He was elected 132nd Supreme Patriarch and Catholicos of All Armenians by the National Ecclesiastical Assembly, the highest body in the Church made up of clergy and lay delegates from Armenia and the diaspora, on 27 October 1999 and was consecrated as Catholicos on 4 November 1999. Since his election he has planned and organised major building projects in Ejmiatsin to serve the growing needs of the Church and has paid particular attention to the education and training of priests. Under his leadership the number of seminarians and ordained priests has increased some tenfold. Unlike his predecessors, he pays frequent pastoral and working visits to Armenian church communities in the diaspora, especially in countries where large numbers of Armenians have settled, such as Russia and the United States. Title: Catholicos of the Great House of Cilicia (Lebanon). Catholicos Aram I (Keshishian) was born in Beirut, Lebanon in 1947. He studied at the seminary of the Catholicosate of Cilicia in Antelias and was educated at the Ecumenical Institute of Bossey (Geneva), the Near East School of Theology (Beirut, and the American University of Beirut. He received a PhD from Fordham University (New York), specialising in philosophy, systematic theology and Near Eastern church history. He was ordained a celibate priest in 1968 and became an archimandrite in 1970. At the height of the Lebanese Civil War, in 1979 he was elected to the challenging position of Primate of the Armenian Community in Lebanon and became a bishop in 1980. He was elected Catholicos of Cilicia in June 1995 by the Electoral Assembly of the Armenian Catholicosate of Cilicia (35 clergy and 115 lay representatives), and was consecrated a week later. Beyond the Armenian Church, Aram I is well known as an active ecumenical leader. He has been involved with the World

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Council of Churches since the early 1970s; he was elected its Moderator in 1991 and unanimously re-elected for a second term in 1998. He is a founding member of the Middle East Council of Churches (MECC), as well as a host of ecumenical bodies, including the Oriental Orthodox–Eastern Orthodox Theological Dialogue, Oriental Orthodox–Reformed Theological Dialogue, the Orthodox–Evangelical Dialogue, the Oriental Orthodox–Roman Catholic and Oriental Orthodox–Lutheran Theological Dialogues. Author of numerous books and publications, Aram is actively engaged in inter-religious dialogue, especially Christian–Islam dialogue in the context of the Middle East. Title: Patriarch of Jerusalem. Patriarch Torkom II (Manoogian) was born on 16 February 1919 in an Armenian refugee camp near Baghdad. His parents had escaped the genocide of Armenians in the Ottoman Empire. He studied in the seminary of the Armenian Patriarch of Jerusalem and was educated in the United States. He was ordained a celibate priest in 1939 and held a number of positions in the Patriarchate until 1946, when he was sent to the United States to serve as the pastor of the Armenian Church in Philadelphia. In 1962 he was elected Primate of the Western Diocese of the Armenian Church of America located in Los Angeles. He was consecrated a bishop the same year in Holy Ejmiatsin. In 1966 he was elected Primate of the Eastern Diocese in the United States, headquartered in New York City, and served for twenty-four years, having been elected for six consecutive terms. He was elected 96th Armenian Patriarch of Jerusalem on 22 March 1990 by the Conclave of the Brotherhood (monastic order) of the Patriarchate. Upon the demise of Catholicos Vazken I in August 1994, Patriarch Torkom was elected locum tenens in Ejmiatsin. His main responsibility was to organise the election of the new Catholicos and run the affairs of the Holy See until a new head was enthroned in April 1995. Archbishop Torkom was an expert of liturgical and ethnic music, a poet and a writer. He authored some two dozen books and publications, including poetry under the pen name ‘Shen Mah’ and translated 154 sonnets of William Shakespeare into Armenian. He passed away at the age of ninetythree on 12 October 2012 after a long illness. A locum tenens (Archbishop Aris Shirvanian) was elected to prepare for a successor. Title: Patriarch of Constantinople. Patriarch Mesrob II (Mutafyan). Since July 2008 he has been incapacitated, suffering from a rare kind of Alzheimer’s disease. While he officially remains Patriarch, a lifetime position, patriarchal duties are carried out by a Vicar (Archbishop Aram Ateshian) elected by the all-clergy Religious Council of the Patriarchate. Archbishop Mesrob was born in Istanbul, Turkey on 16 June 1956. Upon completing his elementary education at the local Yessayan Armenian school, he attend Stuttgart American High School in Germany. He received his undergraduate degree from the University of Memphis, TN, in sociology and continued his studies in Old Testament studies and

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archaeology at the Hebrew University and the American Biblical Institute in Jerusalem. He was ordained a celibate priest in 1979 and a bishop in 1986. He held a number of positions in the Patriarchate and was the archbishop of the Princes Islands. On 14 October 1998 the General Assembly of the Armenian Church Community in Turkey – made up of ten clergy and seventy-nine lay delegates representing 15,800 church members from Istanbul, Kayseri, Diyarbakir, Iskenderun, Kirikhan and Vakifkoy – elected Archbishop Mesrob, forty-two years old at the time, as the 84th Patriarch of Istanbul and All of Turkey. 3

Theological publications69

• • • •

Ejmiatsin [Journal of the Catholicosate of All Armenians] Hask [Journal of the Catholicosate of the Great House of Cilicia] Sion [Journal of the Patriarch of Jerusalem] Shoghakat [Journal of the Patriarchate of Constantinople].

4

Congregations

Structure of the Church:70 52 dioceses (Ejmiatsin 39; Cilicia 13); 500 parishes and churches (estimate). The most important and largest dioceses are: the Araratian Diocese (headquartered in Yerevan, capital of Armenia); the Diocese of Russia and New Nakhichevan (headquartered in Moscow); Eastern Diocese of the Armenian Church of America (headquartered in New York); and Western Diocese of the Armenian Church of America (headquartered in Los Angeles). Number of clergy:71 77 bishops and archbishops; 130 celibate priests (monks); 500 married priests (estimate). There are Armenian dioceses (headed by a bishop) and church communities (headed by a pastor or a visiting priest) in the following countries: Argentina (diocese); Australia (diocese); Austria (church community); Belgium (church community); Brazil (diocese); Bulgaria (diocese); Canada (diocese); Egypt (diocese); Ethiopia (church community); France (3 dioceses); Georgia (diocese); Germany (diocese); Greece (diocese); Hungary (church community); India (church community); Iraq (diocese); Italy (church community); Netherlands (church community); Romania (diocese); Russia (2 dioceses); South Africa (church community); Sudan (church community); Sweden (church community); Switzerland (diocese); UK (diocese); Ukraine (diocese); Uruguay (diocese); USA (2 dioceses). Cyprus (diocese), Iran (diocese), Lebanon (diocese), Syria (diocese), Kuwait (church community), and United Arab Emirates (church communities) are under the jurisdiction of the Catholicosate of the Great House of Cilicia (Lebanon). Israel/Palestine and Jordan are under the jurisdiction of the Armenian Patriarchate of Jerusalem; Turkey is under the Patriarchate of Constantinople.

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Population72

Armenia’s population is 3.2 million; ethnicity: Armenian 96 per cent, Yezidi (Kurd) 1.3 per cent, Russian 0.5 per cent, others (includes Assyrians, Greeks, Ukrainians, Jews). Religious affiliation: Armenian Apostolic 94.7 per cent, other Christian 4 per cent (includes Armenian Catholics, Armenian Evangelicals and other smaller Protestant communities), Yezidi (monotheist with elements of nature worship) 1.3 per cent. In addition, there are an estimated 5 million Armenians living around the world, in the diaspora. The largest communities are in Russia and the United States.

Notes 1 Noubar Seropian, ‘Bats namak Garegin B. Amenayn Hayots Katoghikosin’ [Open Letter to Garegin II Catholicos of All Armenians], Nor Haratch [New Forward], 5 November 2011, pp. 4–5. 2 Armenian Apostolic 94.7 per cent, other Christian 4 per cent. CIA World Factbook, Armenia. http://www.cia.gov/cia/publications/factbook/geos/am.html, 9 August 2005; World Bank Development Indicators, http://data.worldbank.org/data-catalog/world-development-indicators?cid=GPD_WDI (accessed 17 December 2011). 3 During tsarist and Soviet times, the Church in Armenia used the term ‘Armenian Apostolic Church’ or ‘Armenian Apostolic Holy Church’ to distinguish itself and emphasise its independence from the Russian Orthodox Church. The full name of the Church as ‘Armenian Apostolic Orthodox Church’ is indicated, for instance, on the liturgical books of the Church, such as The Divine Liturgy of the Armenian Orthodox Church, 3rd edn, Jerusalem: Armenian Convent Printing Press, 1958; and Sharaknots [Hymnal], Jerusalem: St James Press, 1936. Indeed, the Catholicosate of Cilicia, one of the four Hierarchical Sees, uses the term ‘Armenian Orthodox Church’ as its formal title; see http://www.armenianorthodoxchurch.org/ (accessed 17 January 2012). 4 There are also Armenian Catholic and Protestant churches, Russian Orthodox (14,600), Assyrian (3,400) and Jewish (300) communities. The Yezidis, numbering 40,620 people, are the second largest ethnic-religious group in the country. Republic of Armenia, Census 2001, Table 5.1. http://docs.armstat.am/census/pdf/51.pdf (accessed 17 January 2012). According to the 2001 census, Armenia’s total population is 3,213,011. In addition to the groups mentioned, there are also other ethnicities: Greeks (1,176), Ukrainian (1,633) and Kurds (1,519). 5 There are a number of groups following old pagan rituals. Eduard Enfiajian, a political commentator and member of the pagan community, explains: ‘In Armenia, many people identify religion with the Church establishment. Not us. We have nothing against Christianity, but as a social institution, it is not acceptable to us. Religion is constitutionally separated from the State, but in reality, they teach Christianity even in kindergartens, not to mention schools, universities and the armed forces. To me, this is wrong; a person should be able to choose which God he will obey.’ See Karine Ter-Saakian, ‘Armenia: Pagan Games’, IWPR Caucasus Reporting Service (online), 19 August, 2004; http://iwpr.net/report-news/armenia-pagan-games (accessed 7 November 2012). 6 For more on the Armenian Apostolic Church see Malachia Ormanian, The Church of Armenia, New York: St. Vartan Press, 1988; Tiran Nersoyan, Armenian Church Historical Studies. Matters of Doctrine and Administration, New York: St. Vartan Press, 1996; Krikor Maksoudian, Frequently Asked Questions about the Armenian Church, Burbank, CA: Western Diocesan Press, 2010; Hratch Tchilingirian, The

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Armenian Church. A Brief Introduction, Burbank, CA: Western Diocese of the Armenian Church, 2008; Hratch Tchilingirian, ‘The Catholicos and the Hierarchical Sees of the Armenian Church’ in Anthony O’Mahony (ed.) Eastern Christianity. Studies in Modern History, Religion and Politics, London: Melisende, 2004, pp. 140– 59; during the Soviet period: Claire Mouradian, De Staline à Gorbatchev, histoire d’une république soviétique, l’Arménie, Paris: Ramsay, 1990; Stepan Stepanyants, Hay arakelakan yekeghetsin Stalinyan brnapetutyan orok [The Armenian Apostolic Church in the Days of Stalinist Domination], Yerevan: Abolon, 1994; Stepan Kertogh (Stepanyants), Girg Tarapelots. 1920–1950 akan dvakanneri brnutiunneri zoh Hay hogevorakanner [Book of Suffering: Armenian Clergy Who Were Victims of the 1920–1950 Persecutions], Yerevan: Mughni Press, 2002; Felix Corley, ‘The Armenian Church under the Soviet Regime, Part 1: The Leadership of Kevork’, Religion, State and Society, 1996, 24 (1), 5–53; Felix Corley, ‘The Armenian Church under the Soviet Regime, Part 2: The Leadership of Vazgen’, Religion, State and Society, 1996, 24 (4), 289–343; Felix Corley, ‘The Armenian Church under the Soviet and Independent Regimes, Part 3: The Leadership of Vazgen’, Religion, State and Society, 1998, 26 (3/4), 291–355; Arusiak Terchanyan, Hay Aragelakan Yekeghetsin Yerkrort Hamashkharayin Paterazmi Tarinerin (1939–1945) [The Armenian Apostolic Church During Second World War Years (1939–1945)], Yerevan: Nor Gyank Institute, 2001. 7 Although 301 has been traditionally accepted to be the date of conversion, critical studies have shown that 314 is the actual date; see, for example, Archbishop Tiran Nersoyan, Armenian Church Historical Studies. Matters of Doctrine and Administration, New York: St. Vartan Press, 1996, pp. 63ff. For critical studies on the subject, see Gérard Garitte, Documents pour l’étude du Livre d’Agathange, Vatican City: Biblioteca apostolica vaticana, 1946; Poghos Ananian, Surb Grigor Lusaworch’i dzernadrut’ean t’uakane ew paraganere [The Date and Circumstances of the Ordination of St. Gregory], Venice: Mkhitarist Press, 1960, pp. 167–9; Hakob Manandyan, K’nnakan t’esut’yun Hay zhoghovrdi patmut’ean [Critical Survey of the History of the Armenian People], vol. 2, Yerevan, 1957, pp. 114, 127. 8 The controversy originated at the Council of Chalcedon in 451, which defined Christ as ‘Perfect God and Perfect Man in One Person’ and ‘confessed to be in two natures, without mixture and without change, without separation and without division’. Unlike the formulation at Chalcedon, the Armenian Church’s Christology is based on what is known as the Alexandrian school of theology. St Cyril of Alexandria’s formula of ‘One Nature of the Incarnate Word’ is the basis of this Christology. It teaches that at the moment of Christ’s Incarnation, divine nature and human nature are united inseparably in a single nature, that is, ‘in a single person’. Catholicos Karekin I explains: ‘The two natures haven’t lost their own characteristics or their integrity, but they do not act separately; otherwise, we would have a dualism, and the Incarnation would not have taken place.’ See Giovanni Guaïta, Between Heaven and Earth. A Conversation with His Holiness Karekin I, New New York: St. Vartan Press, 2000, p. 97. Furthermore, ‘“One Nature” is never interpreted in the Armenian Christology as a numerical one, but always a united one’, adds Abp. Keshishian. ‘Second, the term “nature” (Greek ousia, Armenian bnut’iun) is used in Armenian theological literature in three different senses: (a) as essence, an abstract notion, (b) as substance, a concrete reality, (c) as person. In the context of anti-Chalcedonian Christology “one nature” is used in a sense of “one person” composed of two natures.’ See Aram Keshishian, The Witness of the Armenian Church in a Diaspora Situation, New York: Prelacy of the Armenian Apostolic Church, 1978, pp. 25–6. The followers of Cyril of Alexandria and those who adopted his formulation became known as monophysites (those advocating ‘one nature’) because they rejected the formulation of Chalcedon on the basis that the Council spoke of two natures (diophysites). This is why the Armenian and the other Oriental churches are

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10 11

12 13 14 15 16

17 18

19 20 21 22 23

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also known as Non-Chalcedonian churches and are sometimes erroneously referred to as Monophysite churches. For the text of the Joint Statement see Window View of the Armenian Church (quarterly magazine published by the Armenian Church Research and Analysis Group, San Jose, CA), 1991, 2 (3), 21–4. http://acrag.wordpress.com/1991/08/ (accessed 17 December 2011). While different in ritual, worship style, rites and language, these churches accept only the first three Ecumenical Councils in Christianity: Nicea (325), Constantinople (381) and Ephesus (431). In Armenian history, the Catholicos has also been referred to as Chief Priest (K’ahanayapet), Chief Bishop (yepiskoposapet), Patriarch (hayrapet) but most commonly as Catholicos of Armenians (Kat’ołikos Hayoc’). Starting in the fifteenth century, the Catholicos in Ejmiatsin acquired the title of ‘Catholicos of All Armenians’ (Amenayn hayoc’) to indicate his jurisdiction over new dioceses created in Armenian colonies spread outside Armenia. Subsequently, he also acquired the title ‘Supreme Patriarch’ (Cayraguyn Patriark) in recognition of the ‘supremacy’ of the ‘Mother See’ of the Church over the Patriarchates of Jerusalem and Constantinople, as well as the Catholicates of Akhtamar, Gantsasar and Cilicia. For an extensive discussion of this topic see Krikor Maksoudian, Chosen of God: The Election of the Catholicos of All Armenians from the Fourth Century to the Present, New York: St. Vartan Press, 1995. For a more extensive discussion, see Tchilingirian, ‘The Catholicos’. For a more extensive discussion on the confiscation of church properties, see Stepanyants, Hay arakelakan, p. 61. See Vaveragrer hay yekeghetsu patmutyan [Documents on the History of the Armenian Church History], vol. 3, compiled by Sandro Behbudyan, Yerevan: State Central Archives, 1996; Kertogh (Stepanyants), Girg Tarapelots. 1920–1950, p. 8. For instance, in Soviet Georgia out of twenty-three Armenian churches, only one was left open. Prior to 1917 the large Armenian Church diocese of Russia had forty-four churches, three monasteries and fifty-seven priests; the diocese of Astrakhan had fifty-seven churches and thirty-nine priests; the diocese of Artsakh (Karabakh) had 208 churches, 14 monasteries and 236 priests. See Kertogh (Stepanyants), Girg Tarapelots. 1920–1950, p. 7; Terchanyan, Hay Aragelakan; Soviet War News (published by the Soviet Embassy in London), 22 August 1941, quoted in Corley ‘The Armenian Church under the Soviet Regime, Part 1’, p. 11. Corley, ‘The Armenian Church under the Soviet Regime, Part 1’, p. 9. See Corley, ‘The Armenian Church Under the Soviet Regime, Part 1’, Corley, ‘The Armenian Church under Soviet Regime, Part 2’, pp. 289–343; Corley, ‘The Armenian Church under the Soviet Regime, Part 3’, pp. 291–355; Stepanyants, Hay arakelakan; Edward Alexander, ‘The Armenian Church in Soviet Policy’, Russian Review, 1955, 14 (4), 357–62. For an in-depth discussion of the period, see Mouradian, De Staline à Gorbatchev; Stepanyants, Hay arakelakan; and Terchanyan, Hay Aragelakan. Fr Abraham Mgrdtchian, ‘Religious Reawakening in Armenia’, Window View of the Armenian Church, 1991, 2 (2), p. 5; http://acrag.wordpress.com/1991/06/ (accessed 17 November 2012). Hratch Tchilingirian, ‘Edging towards the Big Agreement’, War Report 34, June 1995, pp. 42–3; Hratch Tchilingirian, ‘Karabakh: Internationalising the Enclave’, War Report 52, June–July 1997, pp. 42–3. Rebroadcast on Armenian radio for Europe, 11 July 1988; Summary of World Broadcasts, Soviet Union – SWB SU/0202 B/1–2, 13 July 1988. Foreign Broadcast Information Service, Soviet Union – FBIS-SOV (Armenpress), 15 July 1988: 59.

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24 Rebroadcast on Armenian radio for Europe, 11 July 1988; Summary of World Broadcasts, Soviet Union – SWB SU/0202 B/1–2, 13 July 1988. 25 Gerard J. Libaridian (ed.), The Karabagh File, Cambridge, MA: The Zoryan Institute, 1988, p. 93. 26 Keston News Service (KNS), no. 295, 3 March 1988, p. 17. Vazgen’s appearance on television followed shortly after dissident Paruir Hairikyan had sent the Catholicos a telegram accusing him of betraying the people’s interest. 27 Quoted in Corley, ‘The Armenian Church under the Soviet and Independent Regimes, Part 3’, p. 294. Politburo minutes, 29 February 1988, Tsentr khraneniya sovremennoi dokumentatsii (TskhSD), f. 89, op. 42, d. The ‘experience’ refers to Vazgen’s visit to Baku. He said, ‘I was in Baku at a reception with [Azerbaijani communist party leader Heidar] Aliev. In Baku there is an Armenian church. Two hundred thousand Armenians or more live in the city. Vazgen asked to hold a service in this church, but for 12 years he’s been waiting for an invitation, which he hasn’t received. He’s an unwelcome figure, they don’t want him to turn up there.’ Ibid. 28 FBIS-SOV (Armenpress), 15 July 1988: 59. 29 For an extensive discussion of this period see Mark Malkasian, Gha-ra-bagh! The Emergence of the National Democratic Movement in Armenia, Detroit: Wayne State University Press, 1996. 30 ‘Address of His Holiness Vazgen to the delegates of the Armenian National Movement’, translated by Hratch Tchilingirian, Window View of the Armenian Church, 1990, 1 (2), p. 6, http://acrag.wordpress.com/1990/04/ (accessed 7 November 2012). 31 Ibid., pp. 6–9. Curiously, at the conclusion of his address to the ANM, ‘in order to encourage the use of the Armenian language in educational and other institutions’, Vazgen donated 100 Armenian language typewriters ‘under the discretion’ of ANM’s ‘newly elected committee’. 32 For an extensive discussion of the Church’s political stance in the Soviet period until the mid-1980s see Claire Seda Mouradian, ‘The Armenian Apostolic Church’, in Eastern Christianity and Politics in the Twentieth Century. Christianity under Stress, Pedro Ramet (ed.), vol. 1, Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 1988, pp. 353–74. 33 ‘Address of His Holiness Vazgen to the delegates of the Armenian National Movement’. 34 Armenian Reporter, New York, 19 September 1991. 35 On several occasions, Catholicos Vazgen met Azerbaijan’s religious leader, Sheikul-Islam Allah-Shukur Pashazadeh, in an effort to enhance resolution of the conflict and to underline that the conflict is not religious in nature. They met in May 1988, November 1993 and April 1994. 36 Hratch Tchilingirian, ‘Celebration of Faith: The Armenian Church celebrates 1700th Anniversary of its Establishment and Adoption of State Religion in Armenia’, Armenian International Magazine (AIM), March 2001, 22–4, http:// oxbridgepartners.com/hratch/index.php/publications/articles/121-celebration-offaith-1700th-anniversary (accessed 17 December 2011). 37 Armenia 2020, ‘Church, State and Religion in Armenia’, Issue Paper prepared by Arak-29 Foundation, Yerevan, 2003, p. 3. See www.armenia2020.org (accessed 17 January 2012). 38 ‘Value and Ideology Benchmarks: Imperatives and Alternatives’, Armenian Center for National and International Studies, Yerevan, July 2004, p. 10 (www.acnis.am) (accessed 17 January 2012). 39 Based on World Values 1995–1997 survey. ‘Study of Worldwide Rates of Religiosity, Church Attendance’, 10 December 1997, University of Michigan; see: http://umich.edu/~newsinfo/Releases/1997/Dec97/r121097a.html, 23 March

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2003 (accessed 17 January 2012). In neighbouring Georgia it is 10 per cent and in Azerbaijan 6 per cent. ‘Hayastani kronakan mtnolordeh batsahaytogh karg meh hartser’ [A Number of Issues that Shed Light on the Religious Atmosphere in Armenia], Part A, Nor Haratch, Paris, 1 October 2011, p. 4. Armenia 2020, ‘Church, State and Religion in Armenia’, p. 1. ‘Reformation’ of the Church was another aspect of Catholicos Karekin I’s vision: ‘The reformation of the Armenian Church should be our goal, our target, our point of departure. That reform should preserve an order that is alive, not an order that is just a structure. We need to reform the church in such a way that she will become an active and positive presence for the benefit of our nation.’ See Hratch Tchilingirian, ‘The End of a Journey. Karekin I, Catholicos of All Armenians’, Armenian International Magazine (AIM), July 1999, 29–33. Fr Abraham Mgrdtchian, ‘Religious Reawakening in Armenia’, Window View of the Armenian Church, 1991, 2 (2), p. 5. Hratch Tchilingirian, ‘The Price of Freedom. Conversation with His Holiness Catholicos Vazgen’. Window View of the Armenian Church, 1992, 3 (1), p. 7, http:// acrag.wordpress.com/1992/02/ (accessed 3 July 2012). Hratch Tchilingirian, ‘The Evangelicals in Armenia. On the Road to Pluralism’, Armenian International Magazine (AIM), January 2000, 52–3, http://oxbridgepartners.com/hratch/index.php/publications/articles/103-the-evangelicals-in-armeniaon-the-road-to-pluralism (accessed 3 July 2012). Armenian International Magazine (AIM), March 1994, p. 23. For a more detailed discussion of theological education, see Hratch Tchilingirian, ‘Late Harvest’, Frontier (Keston Institute), June–August 1996, 12–14. The establishment of a Faculty of Theology at Yerevan State University in 1995 was one such improvement – for the first time in the university’s eighty-four-year history. Some fifty students graduate every year. From the mid-1990s there has been a gradual and steady increase of the number of students studying in Ejmiatsin, as well as in the two seminaries established in Sevan and Giumri since independence. Whereas in the late Soviet period the average number at Ejmiatsin was about forty to fifty students a year, in recent years the figure has reached several hundred. This has translated into an increase in the number of ordained priest serving in Armenia. Article 8.1 of the Constitution of the Republic of Armenia; for the text of the Constitution, see http://www.parliament.am/parliament.php?id=constitution& lang=eng#1 (accessed 17 January 2012). Venice Commission and OSCE/ODIHR, ‘Joint Opinion on the Draft Law on Freedom of Conscience and Religion and on the Laws making amendments and supplements to the criminal code and the law on the relations between the Republic of Armenia and the Holy Armenian Apostolic Church of the Republic of Armenia’, adopted by the Venice Commission at its 88th Plenary Session (Venice, 14–15 October 2011), Opinion 643/2011; CDL-AD (2011) 028. http://www.venice. coe.int/docs/2011/CDL-AD(2011)028-e.pdf. (accessed 17 January 2012). Hayastani Hanrapetutiun [Republic of Armenia], Yerevan, 8 March 1995. Figures provided by the Holy See of Ejmiatsin. For more details on the 1995 National Ecclesiastical Assembly, see Window View of the Armenian Church, 1995, 5 (1/2), 10–11, http://acrag.wordpress.com/1995/07/ (accessed 7 November 2012). Signed by Archbishops Nerses Pozapalian (of Ejmiatsin), Torkom Manoogian (Jerusalem), Mesrob Mutafyan (Istanbul), Tiran Kyureghian (Moscow), Parkev Martirosian (Karabakh) and Khajag Barsamian (New York). See Barbara J. Merguerian, ‘Catholicos Election Divides the Church into Two Opposing Factions. Lack of Effective Leadership Is Striking’, Azg/Mirror Online, 10 June 1999.

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54 For a discussion of the 1999 catholical election, see Hratch Tchilingirian, ‘A New Beginning’, Armenian International Magazine (AIM), November 1999, 10 (11), 24–5. 55 ‘A Historical Day in the Mother See of Holy Etchmiadzin’, press release, Mother See of Holy Etchmiadzin, 17 March 2000, posted on [email protected] list (accessed 17 January 2012). 56 For the English translation of the law see Helsinki Committee of Armenia, Freedom of Religion in Armenia. A Study, Yerevan: Helsinki Committee of Armenia, 2010, pp. 207–9. 57 In neighbouring Georgia, too, the Constitution recognises ‘the special role’ of the Georgian Orthodox Church ‘in the history of Georgia and its independence from the state’. See Nikolas K. Gvosdev, ‘Is “Symphony” Returning to the Caucasus?’, Orthodox News, 12 June 2000, 2 (44), http://www.parliament.ge/LEGAL_ACTS/ CONSTITUTION/consten.html (accessed 17 January 2012). 58 Helsinki Committee of Armenia, Freedom of Religion in Armenia, p. 16. 59 ‘Contradictions in the RA Law on Freedom of Conscience and Religious Organizations’, Collaboration for Democracy NGO, 4 February 2005 (http:// www.hra.am/old/eng/index1.php?goto=guest&id=72) (accessed 17 January 2012). 60 Hratch Tchilingirian, ‘Church and State in Armenia’, Window View of the Armenian Church, 1991, 2 (3), 4–6; Hratch Tchilingirian, ‘The End of a Journey. Karekin I, Catholicos of All Armenians’, Armenian International Magazine (AIM), July 1999, 29–33; Hratch Tchilingirian, ‘A New Beginning: Catholicos Garegin II Faces the Task of Healing and Leading the Church’, Armenian International Magazine (AIM), November 1999, 24–5. 61 Pope John Paul II’s English-language address on 25 March 1995 to Armenia’s new Ambassador to the Vatican, during the ceremony of presentation of his credentials. L’Observatore Romano, 29 March 1995. 62 Venice Commission and OSCE/ODIHR, ‘Joint Opinion on the Draft Law on Freedom of Conscience and Religion’, pp 7–8. 63 ‘Hayastani kronakan mtnolordeh batsahaytogh karg meh hartser’ [A Number of Issues that Shed Light on the Religious Atmosphere in Armenia], Part C, Nor Haratch, Paris, 6 October 2011, p. 4. 64 Ibid., p. 5. 65 In July 2005, during a meeting between Catholicos Garegin II and Prime Minister Andranik Margaryan, the issue of transfer of monastic and church lands to the Church by the state was discussed, as well as ‘activities targeted at the further elaboration’ of the Law on Freedom of Conscience and Religious Organizations. Arka and A1+, 14 July 2005, posted on [email protected] (accessed 17 January 2012). 66 Stephen Brown, ‘Armenian Church Faces up to Post-Communist Challenges’, Christianity Today, 1 March 2001, http://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2001/ marchweb-only/3-5-23.0.html (accessed 7 November 2012). 67 For instance, on the status of Jerusalem and the Armenians, see Hratch Tchilingirian, ‘Dividing Jerusalem: Armenians on the Line of Confrontation’, Armenian International Magazine (AIM), October 2000, 11 (10), 40–4. Link to article: http://oxbridgepartners.com/hratch/index.php/publications/articles/117dividing-jerusalem-armenians-on-the-line-of-confrontation. 68 The schism developed in 1441, when a Church Assembly decided to return the Catholicosate of All Armenians from Cilicia to Ejmiatsin, its original place of foundation. But the incumbent of the see in Sis, Cilicia, Catholicos Grigor Moussapegiants (1439–46), refused to accept the decision of the Church Assembly and travel to Ejmiatsin. Thus, the Assembly elected and installed Kirakos Virapetsi as the new Catholicos in Ejmiatsin. Moussapegiants and his successors perpetuated the Catholicosate of Cilicia in Sis until the First World War, when it was transferred to Lebanon in the 1920s. In 1921, following the genocide of Armenians

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in the Ottoman Empire, the Catholicos of Cilicia, along with his clergy and 130,000 surviving Armenians, were evacuated from Cilicia by the French forces and brought to Syria and Lebanon. Armenians in Cilicia had become the victims of a wave of massacres in Kemalist Turkey. Some 300,000 people lost their lives. The last Catholicos of Sis, Sahak II Khabayan (1902–39), relocated and restored the Catholicosate of Cilicia in Antelias, a suburb of Beirut, Lebanon in 1930 (for extensive historical background, see Babgen Gulesserian, Patmut’iwn kat’olikosac’ Kilikioy [History of Catholicoi of Cilicia], Antelias, Lebanon: Catholicate of Cilicia, 1939). Since then cordial relations have been maintained between the Catholicosates of Ejmiatsin and Cilicia. They also participated in the elections of the Catholicoi of each respective See, through two representatives – a practice that continues until today. However, in the Cold War period the two sees diverged into adversarial positions thanks to the politics of the times. In addition to these official journals, weekly and frequent news, announcements and communiqués are published (in Armenian and English) on the websites of the respective Sees: Catholicosate of All Armenians: http://www.armenianchurch.org/; Catholicosate of Cilicia: http://www.armenianorthodoxchurch.org/; Patriarchate of Jerusalem: http://www.armenian-patriarchate.org/; Patriarchate of Constantinople: http://www.lraper.org/ (all websites accessed on 17 January 2012). Liturgical Calendar 2012, Holy Ejmiatsin, pp 236–1; Liturgical Calendar 2011, Catholicosate of the Great House of Cilicia, Antelias, Lebanon, pp. 248–54. Liturgical Calendar 2011, Patriarchate of Jerusalem, pp. 130–2; Liturgical Calendar 2001, Patriarchate of Constantinople (Istanbul). Ibid. Based on 2001 census, as provided by the government of Armenia, http://www. gov.am/en/demographics/. Other than Armenia, where official censuses are conducted, there are no reliable figures about the exact number of Armenians living in each country around the world. See, for example, http://www.armeniadiaspora. com/population.html and http://www.haias.net/news/_armenian-population.html (all websites accessed on 17 January 2012).

26 The Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church and the Eritrean Orthodox Tewahedo Church Stéphane Ancel, Giulia Bonacci and Joachim Persoon

The Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church (EthOC)1 and the Eritrean Orthodox Tewahedo Church (ErOC), which only recently separated, are the most distinctive of the Eastern churches. A large corpus of Judaic traditions within an African context, long periods of isolation from the outside world and the status of a major national religion have facilitated the preservation of a unique heritage. The Ethiopian tradition was different from that of other types of Christianity yet also preserved aspects of Christian culture lost elsewhere. These churches were little known until the twentieth century and were isolated, despite their strong links with the Middle East. Their dual heritage was celebrated in the narrative of their origin resulting from the union of the Queen of Sheba and King Solomon, with their child Menelik I laying the foundation for the development of a strong Christian state.2 Christianity played a major role in state formation from the inception of the Ethiopian state. Axumite and Sabean heritage combined with the early introduction of Christianity characterised the Ethiopian state, with its remarkable cultural synthesis and continuity of traditions. Sacred kingship and the dynamism of monastic spirituality working in harmony propelled the expansion of a uniquely African Christian state, from insignificant beginnings to the point at which it was able to compete with Western powers in the ‘scramble for Africa’ at the end of the nineteenth century. Menelik II (1889–1913) was the first indigenous African ruler to defeat an invading colonial power in the victory over the Italians at the battle of Adowa 1896, which enabled him to carve out the borders of what became modern Ethiopia. A profoundly Christian monarch, Menelik II was always accompanied by clergy and the sacred arcs of the covenant (tabot) and built churches and monasteries in newly conquered areas. Local rulers were allowed to retain their positions as his vassals if they accepted the Orthodox faith. Thus Orthodox Christianity became the binding element of an ethnically diverse empire. Until the communist revolution in 1974 church and state were closely integrated. The role of Orthodox Christianity in the state formation of Eritrea was more ambiguous. The first Italian colonial expansion in the area was facilitated by emissaries of the Catholic Church. Colonial industrialisation contributed to the growth of an ethnically and religiously mixed urban population, which identified itself primarily as Eritrean. When the Ethiopian imperial

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forces were installed by the British after the defeat of the Italians in 1941, they used the Orthodox Church to facilitate support for the unionist movement, paving the way for the annexation of Eritrea. Clergy eager to regain their former lands and social influence and to be confirmed in their positions (often granted under Italian rule) enthusiastically put themselves at the disposal of the Ethiopian rulers. As Ethiopian rule became more oppressive, the first independence movements arose among Muslim Eritreans and were supported by neighbouring Islamic powers. Ethiopian attempts to mobilise the Christian Eritreans to counteract the separatist movement eventually failed. As repression gained new levels of harshness under communist rule, the separatist movement was taken over by Eritrean Christian leaders, who cooperated with their comrades in arms in Tigray (the northern province of Ethiopia) to topple the communist regime. Ethiopian Orthodox bishops could only operate in the areas under Ethiopian military control, which eventually shrank. The Eritreans therefore appealed to the Coptic Patriarchate in Alexandria to ordain bishops for ‘liberated’ areas, thus initiating the process for the split of the Orthodox Church in the two countries. The Orthodox Church could consequently be seen as incidental or even a hindrance to state formation in Eritrea. Subsequently political expediency played a role in guaranteeing the new Eritrean Orthodox Church a central if subservient role in public life. A government eager to continually mobilise its citizens for the development effort welcomed the existence of a national church which could be easily controlled. This chapter introduces the main aspects of church–state relations in Ethiopia and Eritrea from the late twentieth century to the early twenty-first century. After gaining autocephalous status, there was a process of centralisation of the church administration, including the establishment of parish councils. This was complicated by the communist revolution, which disestablished the Church and challenged its very existence. Globalisation, ethnicity and the exponential growth of the diaspora and affiliated movements have had very different impacts on Ethiopia and Eritrea after political division, as one country became more pluralistic and the other fought to repel foreign influences and maintain its own sense of integrity. The unique nature of the Orthodox churches in Ethiopia and Eritrea and their complex political circumstances make them fascinating objects of study, but complicate systematic research. The collection of data in Eritrea is particularly difficult since the Church is politically circumscribed. Even in Ethiopia, church-related statistics are notoriously unreliable. Thus researchers are obliged to operate within the limitations of the circumstances.

Autocephaly and the centralisation process of the Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church During most of the history of Ethiopia the sole Orthodox episcopal authority in the country was an Egyptian metropolitan archbishop, nominated by and responsible to the Patriarch of Alexandria, and without the power to consecrate

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bishops. Alternative ecclesiastical leaders such as the Nebura Ed [‘one on whom hands are laid’]3 and the Echegae [head of the monastic communities] effectively administrated the Church. The Ethiopian Church, with its state church status and many millions of adherents, was ecclesiastically under the authority of the politically marginalised Coptic Church. The expansion of Islam changed Ethiopia and Eritrea into an isolated realm, thus contacts with the more cosmopolitan Egyptian Copts were useful, while the Copts benefited from the Ethiopian monarchs’ diplomatic and military influence. However, by the early twentieth century the status of the Ethiopian–Eritrean Orthodox Church as a church province of the Coptic Church became untenable. The Italian occupation of Ethiopia (1935–41) and political pressure hastened the process of separation. Years of negotiations with the Coptic authorities by Ras Tafari Makonnen (later Emperor Haile Selassie I) succeeded in obtaining an agreement.4 Initially in 1929–30, five Ethiopian monks were consecrated as bishops under the authority of the Coptic Metropolitan Qerlos (1929–50); however, the system collapsed under Italian rule.5 Subsequent negotiations produced a second agreement signed in 1948. Once more, Ethiopian monks were consecrated as bishops under the authority of Metropolitan Qerlos, among them the powerful abbot of Debre Libanos Monastery, Gebre Giyorgis, who took the name Baselyos (1948–70).6 Upon the death of Metropolitan Qerlos (1950), Baselyos became the first Ethiopian archbishop (1951). Meanwhile, Haile Selassie I took advantage of the situation, by introducing a Constitution which subjugated the Church (1955) by giving the Emperor supreme authority in ecclesiastical matters.7 Effectively the Emperor became the real head of the institution, enabling him to create a central ecclesiastic authority (i.e. local Holy Synod), to allow the archbishop to consecrate his agents, and, finally, to facilitate his control of nominations of hierarchs.8 Eventually Baselyos was declared the first Patriarch of Ethiopia (1959), thus making the Orthodox Church of Ethiopia fully autocephalous. Meanwhile, in order to rise to the challenge of implementing administrative reform, Patriarch Tewoflos, the second Patriarch (consecrated in 1971), decreed the establishment of parish councils in 1972.9 They were intended to institute a new administrative chain, granting the bishops effective power in their dioceses and regulating financial affairs. However, the opposition of the clergy, afraid of losing their traditional privileges, made implementation impossible. The Church was compromised by her involvement in the complicated feudal system of land ownership and risked losing the support of the youth and intelligentsia. Eventually, the advent of the Revolution dramatically transformed the economic and social context of the Church.

The Revolution of 1974 and its consequences In 1974, the revolutionary forces challenged the political and economic basis of the EthOC, separating church and state and proclaiming the

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nationalisation of rural and urban lands on 4 March 1975.10 The goal of the Derg (military junta) was not to bring about the collapse of the institution of the Church as such, but to expel it from the political arena, to purge anti-revolutionary elements from it and to enrol churchmen as supporters of the revolution. The Patriarchate was widely considered as an avatar of royal power, and was inherently challenged and obliged to conciliate with a hostile political force. In autumn 1975, Atnafu Abate, vice-president of the Derg, created the Provisional Council of the Ethiopian Orthodox Church, charged with eradicating corruption and purging the Church.11 Accused of ‘corruption’, Patriarch Tewoflos was deposed on 18 February 1976.12 The election of a new Patriarch took place on 7 July 1976 and an unknown figure was chosen. Abba Melaku was consecrated on 29 August 1976 and took the name Tekle Haymanot (1976–88). According to the Derg and the Church he was a good candidate. An ascetic monk serving in the Walayta region, without any modern education but with a strong legacy of pastoral activities, Tekle Haymanot was the exact opposite of Tewoflos. Tekle Haymanot was considered to be a docile, humble, honest man of the people, thus his election improved the image of the Church in the communist context. Despite international protests after the deposition of Tewoflos and the election of Tekle Haymanot, an inter-church aid agreement was signed between the EthOC Parish Council Department and the World Council Commission for Churches’ Participation in Development (WCC-CCPD) in November 1976.13 With funding from the WCC and the support of the Ethiopian government concerned about the income for clergy, seminars were organised to facilitate the establishment of parish councils. Nevertheless, the first version of the text establishing parish councils in 1972 needed to be amended because of the new political and social context. Thus, in May 1978, the Patriarchate edited a new text facilitating the relaunching of the reform.14 Concurrently, anti-religious policies15 were instituted: youth were systematically prevented from church attendance and supporters of the new regime were forced to disavow religious affiliation. The purge of the EthOC continued as some members of the Holy Synod were opposed to the new Patriarch and to the ongoing reforms within the Church. Political expediency and the need to mobilise the population for the war effort after the occupation of the Eastern Ogaden region by the Somalis in 1977 caused the government to lessen pressure on the Church, which had always been a symbol of patriotism.16 However, during 1977 and 1978, political intimidation of members of the ancien régime increased as bishops appointed by the imperial regime were considered suspect and therefore asked to retire. On 22 January 1979, Patriarch Tekle Haymanot consecrated thirteen monks as bishops.17 Out of fourteen bishops in 1978, only three remained in 1979; thus purged, the Church ceased to constitute a threat to the Derg regime. Meanwhile, the EthOC established the parish council system which allowed for the rationalisation of church income; introduced Sunday schools both in

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urban and rural areas; launched development programmes; and improved its centralised administration.18 During the late 1970s, Orthodox churches and mosques were the only places where people could assemble, and support for religion became a covert expression of opposition to the regime. Pilgrimages and festivals witnessed a spectacular growth; thus, despite the communist context, the Church showed remarkable vitality. But the price was high: the revolt of the bahtawi (hermits) was cruelly repressed, as were all forms of opposition to the regime.19 The military junta demanded the absolute submission of the Patriarchate. Respected by the population for his ascetic and pious behaviour, Tekle Haymanot dared to oppose the regime publicly. He died in 1988 under suspicious circumstances; it is said that he fasted to death and was only rushed to hospital by the authorities when there was no hope of recovery. He was replaced by a controversial candidate. Abune Merkurios (1988–91) was seen as the choice of the political authorities, and was noted for his recruitment of deacons and other church personnel for military service. His role in the deposition of Bishop Endreyas of Gondar, known for his condemnation of the Derg, undermined his reputation.20

The new political context of the 1990s in Ethiopia Ethiopia was on the eve of yet another dramatic change, as the power of the Derg had been eroded by the protracted guerrilla warfare of ethnic-based resistance movements, the EPLF (Eritrean People’s Liberation Front) and the TPLF (Tigrean People’s Liberation Front), which eventually proved fatal to the central government. Their ascendancy in 1991 heralded a paradigm shift in government administration. The new Constitution of Ethiopia was promulgated in 1995 and established the Federal Democratic Republic of Ethiopia, with nine Federal States based on ethnic divisions.21 The establishment of a new federal government in Addis Ababa had immediate repercussions on Church life.22 Compromised by his allegiance to the Derg regime, Patriarch Merkurios was obliged to resign in 1992. The new incumbent of the Patriarchal throne, Abune Paulos, was elected and consecrated as the fifth Patriarch of the EthOC in July 1991. The new Patriarch conveniently shared the same ethnic origin (Tigray) as that of the new government. Paulos spent seven years in prison under the Derg and subsequently was able to gain a PhD in theology while in exile in the USA. The previous Patriarch, Merkurios first fled to Kenya and eventually arrived in the USA, declaring that he still considered himself to be the legitimate Patriarch. He was welcomed by a group of formerly politically influential and anti-government Ethiopian bishops mainly from the Gondar area, led by Bishop Melchisedek, which constituted an alternative Holy Synod in exile. Attempts at reconciliation between the two Synods failed and the situation climaxed with the decision of the Synod in exile to ordain a new group of bishops.23 The Addis Ababa Holy Synod consequently condemned and excommunicated the members of the Holy Synod in exile on 2 February 2007.24

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Following the large-scale emigration of Ethiopians since the mid-1970s, the Church witnessed spectacular growth. This was enhanced by the conversion to Ethiopian Orthodoxy of people of Caribbean origin, many of whom were Rastafarians.25 Most Ethiopian Churches in the USA are organised along ethnic lines: the Amhara usually belong to the Holy Synod in exile, whereas the Tigray remain under the Addis Ababa Synod. In Europe, divisions within the Church follow political rather than ethnic lines. After the contested elections of 2005 in Ethiopia, the largest Ethiopian Church in London, Mariam Tsion, declared itself independent of the Addis Ababa Holy Synod.26 No longer dominated by government-appointed Church administrators, the Ethiopian Patriarch and the Holy Synod gained autonomy and self-determination. Article 11 of the Constitution of the Federal Democratic Republic of Ethiopia, promulgated in 1994, clearly states that: ‘1. State and religion are separate. 2. There shall be no state religion. 3. The state shall not interfere in religious matters and religion shall not interfere in state affairs.’27 Despite the official religious policy of the new regime and a prudent public distance from Church affairs maintained by Prime Minister Meles Zenawi (in power from 1991 until his untimely death in 2012), the separation between church and state has sometimes been belied by the reliance of the state on the Church as a unifying symbol of patriotism, particularly during times of crisis such as the war with Eritrea (1998–2000). The government is active in promoting interreligious harmony, in organising programmes and events and has a Federal office for religious affairs. Furthermore, the state insisted on the Church and other religious organisations contributing to nationalist ventures such as the financing of the Millennium Dam on the Nile. The recent intervention of the state in leadership issues of the Ethiopian Muslim community, causing considerable resentment, is a further example of state interference in religious affairs. Despite political change, the Ethiopian Patriarchate pursued consolidation of its authority, promoting the establishment of parish councils, a process eased by the good will of the new political power. In 2000–1, the number of parish councils in Ethiopia was 16,843,28 a number close to that of churches in the country, although parish councils functioned more successfully in urban areas. The increased dynamic of centralisation of the Church raised challenges with the College of Learned Scribes (Liqawent guba’é), whose leader, Aleqa Ayelé, publicly opposed the Patriarch Abune Paulos, and also with the bahtawian who outspokenly opposed the political power. The situation came to a climax with the shooting of a hermit at St Steven’s (Estifanos) Church in Addis Ababa in 1997.29 Attitudes towards the Ethiopian ecclesiastical leadership can be gauged from the reactions which appeared following the untimely demise of Abune Paulos. Obituaries praised Abune Paulos for his stature as an international leader and for raising the dignity of the EthOC by constructing a fitting patriarchal palace and episcopal residences. However, on the domestic front, Abune Paulos was criticised because his period in office was characterised by

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ongoing internal dissension and he was considered by some to have compromised the Church’s position by his enthusiastic and unequivocal support for the government after the contested 2005 elections in Ethiopia.30 After the improvement of its centralised administration, the Patriarchate aimed at controlling all Orthodox discourses, and sought a means to spread its influence throughout Ethiopia.31 The Sunday schools founded during the ancien régime and at the beginning of the 1980s were seen as the best means to promote church influence in the face of communism and evangelical activities. Sunday schools were organised in a hierarchical system parallel to that of the church administration and flourished in urban areas. At the end of the 1990s, a lay association, the Mahibere Kidusan [Community of All Saints], rose to prominence with an agenda of promoting religious teachings and observance among students and young adults, making use of modern media.32 Mahibere Kidusan practised tithing among its members;33 it rapidly became self-sufficient and developed a good network throughout the country and in the diaspora. After some hesitation, the church authorities eventually allowed the Mahibere Kidusan to build its headquarters in front of the main entrance of the Patriarchate in Addis Ababa. Some tension remains with the ecclesiastical authorities as the Mahibere Kidusan has exceeded its original mandate as a Sunday school organisation. It has become an extensive organisation involved in numerous activities and functioning as an indigenous NGO.

Religious education and publications in Ethiopia The success of church organisations (Sunday schools, evening preaching, the Mahibere Kidusan movement) and the continuous expansion of church building, a trend started during the Derg, have done much to raise the profile of Orthodox churches throughout the urban areas of Ethiopia, even in predominately Muslim areas. However, the lack of mechanisms for sharing wealth with church institutions in rural areas has hastened the decline of historic monasteries, the traditional education system and the influence of the Orthodox Church in minority ethnic areas. Traditional education in the countryside has been increasingly challenged by modern education and has had difficulties in recruiting teachers because of their low salary and declining social status.34 There have been attempts at combining traditional and modern forms of education, for example at the model monastery established by Bishop Gergorios at Lake Ziway, which is also an important catechetical centre. The Theological College in Addis Ababa, closed for seventeen years during the communist period, was reopened as an independent church institution in 1995. Another theological college known as Kessata Berhan was established in Mekelle (Tigray) in 2001. These two institutions use English-language instruction and have partly expatriate staff. There are also more indigenously orientated theological institutions such as Paulos College in Kulfe, and Ba’ata Mariam, a centre of traditional education in Addis Ababa. Meanwhile, a complete system of traditional education

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continues to exist, often associated with monasteries. Monasteries remain important institutions but have diminished status and limited ability to support traditional schools, fuelling the fear of losing oral knowledge. Rural teachers receive very low wages in comparison with urban clergy. The practice of students begging for their daily food continues but there are now attempts to provide alternative means of livelihood such as handicraft projects. One recent phenomenon is the establishment of clergy training centres, which have become mandatory in certain dioceses. The aim is to raise educational standards and empower clergy to meet the needs of the modern world. The charismatic Bishop Gergorios has produced a number of important books on church history and related topics. There has been a growth of religious literature including pious magazines produced by various organisations and books, especially compilations of sermons on thematic subjects. Young clergy, including deacons, have produced books of doubtful quality sometimes expressing anti-ecumenical sentiments. Official church publishing houses usually produce spiritual literature of a higher quality. The only successful ecumenical organisation is the Bible Society, which has succeeded in uniting members of different churches for the purpose of producing biblical publications and has produced versions of the Bible according to the Ethiopian Orthodox canon. Some religious publications – including part of the liturgy – started to be produced in the various ethnic languages of Ethiopia.35

New political context of the 1990s in Eritrea Following a referendum held in April 1993, Eritreans voted almost unanimously for the independence of Eritrea, declared on 27 April 1993. During the Derg regime, Ethiopia was associated with a scorched-earth policy in Eritrea which alienated public opinion, and previous imperial policies appeared to compromise the Orthodox Church.36 The political activist Bereket Habte Selassie noted that at a 1996 meeting of principal religious leaders in the midst of Eritrea’s constitution-making exercise, religion as a fundamental human right and separation of church and state were emphasised. After extensive public debate, the concept of secularism (alemawinet in the Tigrenya language) was rejected as a principle in the Constitution: The final consensus was that State and religion may have to be separated but they could not be divorced from each other (to vary the metaphor they are both sides of the same coin). There was too much at stake for the state not to be concerned with religious matters and for religion to be aloof from all politics, thus their relationship had to be worked out by a dialectics of patience, caution and acumen.37 The Orthodox Church’s unionist background meant that impending independence caused an imperative for Eritrean disassociation from Ethiopian religious hegemony, with the obvious option being renewing links with Coptic

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Egypt. Upon independence, the bishops ordained by the Ethiopian Church fled from Eritrea, leaving the country devoid of an episcopal hierarchy. The first episcopal ordinations by the Coptic Church were for the Eritrean diaspora, and were conducted without consulting the Ethiopian Church. Coinciding with Eritrean liberation from the Derg, on 26 May 1991 in Cairo, Coptic Pope Shenouda III (1971–2012) consecrated in Cairo two bishops for the Eritreans abroad on the request of Eritrean emigrants: Markos in London and Makarios in the USA. The choice of Eritrean clergy to seek support from the Coptic Church was not a surprise. Since the revolution of 1974, the relationship between the EthOC and the Coptic Church had been difficult. Pope Shenuda III strongly condemned the deposition of Abune Tewoflos in 1976 and refused to recognise Abune Tekle Haymanot as Patriarch. The Eritrean clergy could thus find an ally in Cairo and put the Patriarchate of Addis Ababa under international pressure. In fact, the Patriarchate in Addis Ababa initially condemned the consecration of 1991. However, in 1993, Abune Paulos had no choice but to concede in the matter. In July 1993, the Eritrean President Isaias Afeworke visited Coptic Pope Shenouda III in Cairo, followed by a church delegation bearing a letter from Abune Philipos, head of the Eritrean bishops.38 Isaias Afeworke’s proximity to President Hosni Mubarak of Egypt may have put political pressure on the Coptic Patriarchate to promote Erirean autocephaly. At Pentecost (19 June 1994) Pope Shenouda III consecrated five new diocesan bishops: Bishop Antonios, Bishop Dioscoros, Bishop Kyrillos, Bishop Yohannes and Bishop Salama. These bishops, together with the former Archbishop of Northern Gondar, Yaeqob, established an Eritrean Holy Synod. Pope Shenouda III consecrated Philipos as the first Patriarch of Eritrea (8 May 1998 in Cairo) on the feast of St Mark, and the enthronement, also by Pope Shenouda III, was held in the Eritrean capital city Asmara on 29 May 1998.39 A protocol regulating relations was signed, indicating the precedence of the Pope of Alexandria and the relevant status of the Eritrean Church with relation to the See of Alexandria. Shortly before his elevation as Patriarch, Abune Philipos expressed brotherly concern for Ethiopian bishops and insisted on the recognition of full Eritrean ecclesiastical independence. The use of the term ‘Coptic Orthodox Church of Eritrea’, however, underlines continued ambiguity. The division of the Eritrean and Ethiopian Orthodox churches has strained Eritrean and Ethiopian relations as well as Ethiopian and Coptic relations. The Holy Synod is the highest authority of the Eritrean Church, which has an electoral council comprising 318 men, and 21 officially recognised monasteries.40 On 30 August 2003, the Eritrean Orthodox Church officially became part of the World Council of Churches. Thus, while after 1991 the Church in Ethiopia became much freer, in Eritrea it was totally under the authority of the state headed by Isaias Afeworke, with dire consequences. The Pentecostal churches in Asmara witnessed a spectacular growth since independence, as hundreds converted to one of its six branches (Mulu Wengel, Qale Heywot, Mesrete Krestos, Rhema, Charisma

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and Halleluya).41 Growing youth and middle-class membership was considered as a threat by the ErOC and a serious challenge to the political ideology of the ruling elite. Currently, the Catholics in Eritrea have four eparchies and are dependent on the metropolitan archbishop in Addis Ababa. The aftermath of the border war with Ethiopia in 1998–2000 had a direct impact on the religious scene in various ways,42 wiping out the leadership of some minority religious groups and causing extreme hardship for the Iyrob ethnic minority, which is at least half Catholic and lives on both sides of the border. Another result of the war with Ethiopia was growing domestic opposition to the Eritrean government, which subsequently became increasingly intolerant of all forms of civil society, including religious organisations. In late 2001, the government banned all religious groups except Sunni Islam, the ErOC, the Catholic Church and the Lutheran Church. As a consequence, there are currently thousands of Eritreans who are kept in detention without trial simply because they belong to banned religious groups. Pentecostals, as well as Jehovah’s Witnesses, have paid a high price as a result of this restrictive policy. Between 2003 and 2005, at least 26 pastors and clergy and over 1,750 church members including women and children, as well as dozens of Muslims, have been detained and sometimes tortured because of their religious beliefs.43 The ErOC eventually became a target too, for example in 2004 when the government arrested three priests associated with Medhanie Alem [Saviour of the World], a renewal movement within the Church ‘Sunday school’ association, accused of being a foreign-based subversive influence. Patriarch Antonios spoke out against these arrests and refused to excommunicate the 3,000 members of Medhanie Alem. As a consequence, in 2005, he was deposed in contravention of church canons and replaced by an appointed lay leader. Antonios was eventually placed under house arrest and forbidden to receive any visitors. He was finally replaced by Bishop Dioscoros, whose appointment was not recognised by the Coptic Church in Egypt. This move led to a split between Orthodox churches in the diaspora and the Church in Asmara. In the USA, bishops formed an independent diocese faithful to Antonios despite intense pressure from the church leadership and government in Eritrea.44 Government agents and church authorities were dispatched to locations from Nairobi to Atlanta to restore authority and punish dissident behaviour and individuals, hence giving a transnational dimension to religious repression.45 The policy of the government of Eritrea towards religion can only be understood in the context of its commitment to preserving a strong tradition of political and economic independence and self-reliance. The psychological composition of the people in power has changed very little from the days and ideals of the armed struggle. Government policies reflect the genuine efforts of a people struggling to live by the ideals, principles and hopes that were paid for so dearly during the long war for liberation, when a culture of selfreliance proved the most secure route and guarantee to the country’s salvation. Eritrean policies can only be understood on the basis of the doctrine

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of ‘self-mobilisation’, a cornerstone of Eritrean nationalism.46 The removal of images of churches from tourist posters and the choice of the camel (a symbol associated with Islam) as the national symbol (because of its role as a beast of burden in the independence struggle) subtly indicate that Eritrea has moved away from regarding Christianity as a core aspect of its national identity. Initially the government did not have an institution to oversee the activities of religious groups. Since the question was considered closely related to national security, responsibility for religious affairs was first given to the loyalist Naizghi Kiflu, who reported directly to the President.47 By the mid1990s, Dragon Hailemelakot had taken over responsibility for affairs of religion and faith, joined by Yeft-he Demitros, son of the prominent priest Keshi Demitros, with whom he had been in exile in Germany. These two personalities dominated church affairs, and facilitated the removal of church personnel who challenged government hegemony. An example is their former fellow exile in Germany Teklemariam Merkhazion, who, after returning to Eritrea in 1999, edited two church publications Fnote Berhan [Way of Light] and Bserat-GeEzan [Good News of the Free People]. Known for championing church autonomy he disappeared after being summoned by government security officials in April 2004.48 Thus, in effect, government interests rather than those of the Church itself have determined church policies. The government has attempted to ensure that the political ideals of the ruling party should provide the main dynamism for public life, rather than religious movements, especially with regard to the youth. In the course of time the Eritrean government has shown no willingness to compromise on its harsh policies, or to provide more space for aspects of a traditional civil society, including religion. The fact that the principle opponents of the government are Islamist political movements may be one reason. The Orthodox Church in Eritrea was not allowed to become an alternative centre of selfmobilisation or inspiration in society as happened in communist Ethiopia. Rather, the result of rigid state control is the alienation of religious institutions from the mainstream of society and increasing apathy and disillusion among the youth, reflected in the large numbers fleeing abroad, despite the dangers involved.

Ecumenical and inter-religious affairs During many periods of Ethiopian history, Orthodoxy has been the dominant religious influence and ally of the state. Catholicism challenged Orthodox hegemony in the sixteenth century and failed, yet was able to re-establish itself in the nineteenth century together with branches of Protestantism. Imperial policies only allowed the missionaries to proselytise in certain peripheral areas and to engage in humanitarian, social and educational activities. Under later regimes this situation gradually changed. The importance of massive relief aid by NGOs during periods of drought and famine, many of which were

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Christian, gave them a certain influence even under communism. There is a low percentage of Catholics in Ethiopia, although the Catholic Church has a high profile because of her international involvement in education, health and social services and development. Despite the de jure distinction between Eastern (or Ethiopian) rite and Latin rite churches, the Ethiopian Catholic Church has de facto a united leadership within the structure of the Episcopal Conference of the Ethiopian Catholic Church. The leadership is always held by the permanent President of the Episcopal Conference, the Metropolitan Archbishop of Addis Ababa, currently His Eminence Abune Berhaneyesus, and Catholics cooperate with and contribute towards Orthodox social projects and theological schools. As part of an ongoing process of ecumenical dialogue, an important meeting was held in Addis Ababa in January 2012: Cardinal Kurt Koch, President of the Pontifical Council for Promoting Christian Unity in Rome, was received as an official guest by Abune Paulos and resided at the Patriarchate. This visit marked a new level of understanding in Catholic–Orthodox relations. Relations with the Russian Orthodox Church became quite extensive during the communist period, with many Ethiopians studying at Russian Orthodox institutions and an exchange of visits by church dignitaries. Theodoros II, the Greek Orthodox Pope and Patriarch of Alexandria and All Africa, still maintains a large residence in Addis Ababa and regularly comes to the city, often participating in the Epiphany celebrations (Temket). The celebration of the millennium according to the Ethiopian calendar (2007) was attended by leading representatives of many Eastern churches, including the current Ecumenical Patriarch, Bartholomew I. There have always been close relations with Oriental Orthodox churches. Members of the Coptic and Indian Orthodox Church helped to found the first theological college in Addis Ababa, and have always figured among its staff. The Holy Trinity Theological College came into existence when the former high school was upgraded to college in 1961 and became a department of Addis Ababa University. Relations with the Coptic Church declined after the deposition of Abune Tewoflos in 1976, since the Copts did not consider Abune Tekle Haymanot and Abune Merkurios to be canonically recognised leaders. Relations again worsened after the Coptic Church ordained bishops for Eritrea without consulting the EthOTC. However, both were united in concern for the deposed Eritrean Patriarch Abune Antonios, and eventually there were mutual visits of both Patriarchs to Cairo and Addis Ababa accompanied by members of their Holy Synods. On 17 July 2007 a protocol of understanding was signed between the two patriarchs after negotiations facilitated by the Armenian Catholicos Aram I Keshishian, thus setting the seal on a new phase of good relations. The lifting of political and religious restrictions in Ethiopia during the 1990s enabled the Protestant churches to emerge and flourish in the public domain, often with foreign financial support. During the 1960s the charismatic movement penetrated most Protestant churches in Ethiopia, stressing

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an experientialist rather than fundamentalist religious mode. The Pentecostal movement spread its message on the wings of more secular sectors of the process of globalisation. Growing in the face of ethno-regional tensions and political crises, it was associated with the processes of urban upward mobility and rural modification, and promoted by the policies of certain powerful NGOs such as World Vision. Successful among populations located in urban areas, evangelical movements started to challenge the hegemonic position of the EthOC. In promoting a modernist form of preaching, these movements accommodated many faithful from an Orthodox background. Orthodox movements such as the Mahibere Kidusan and the institution of daily evening preaching meetings can be seen as a response to the increased pressure exercised by the evangelical movement. Evangelicals using modernist and vernacular languages have appealed to ethnic sentiments of grievance, eventually dominating certain areas like the western region of Wollega, Awassa and much of southern Ethiopia. Inevitably the Orthodox concept of canonical territory has caused a sharp reaction, sometimes leading to violence and even bloodshed. In 1960 there were about 1,100,000 evangelicals in Ethiopia, while in 2005, 10,446,015 were recorded, that is 14.7 per cent of the total population of Ethiopia.49 The Ethiopian Orthodox Church was one of the founding members of the World Council of Churches in Amsterdam in 1948, of which the seven titular presidents always include an Oriental Orthodox Patriarch (Abune Paulos from 2006 until his passing in August 2012). The EthOTC together with the Ethiopian Lutheran Mekane Yesus Church were joint hosts of the Seventh Assembly of the All African Council of Churches in Addis Ababa in 1997, under the theme ‘Troubled but not Destroyed’. The EthOTC has always been more enthusiastic about ecumenism on the international level, and less so at the grassroots level. At evening preaching sessions, Catholic and Protestant influences have often been denounced and organisations such as Mahibere Kidusan have regularly produced books attacking ‘external heretical influences’ and ‘conspiracies’. At an ecumenical initiative organised by the Catholic Church in 2005 in Addis Ababa, a Netherlands-based Ethiopian expert on ecumenism, Fr Petros Berga, stated that: Today’s globalised context reveals how far Ethiopia lags behind in the ecumenical movement. Ecumenical relations are hindered by a constellation of circumstances; historical factors have made the Ethiopian Churches inward looking. … Processes connected with post communism, and the current emphases on ethnic identities have strengthened fundamentalism and extremist tendencies. Insecurity is a major ground for conflict.50 The Apostolic Nuncio in Addis Ababa, Archbishop Ramiro Moliner Ingles, stressed the ‘importance of clearing away misunderstandings and prejudices’.51 The Canadian-based Protestant theologian Girma Bekele has argued in

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favour of an ‘ecumenical diaconia’, i.e. joint activities to combat poverty and at the same time bring the churches closer together.52 Unlike other Oriental Orthodox churches, the EthOTC has not issued any joint statements on Christological issues, although it has participated in ongoing ecumenical dialogue, particularly thanks to the leadership of Abune Paulos. A few days before passing away, Abune Paulos gave a lecture at the Institute of Ethiopian Studies of Addis Ababa University, presenting the publication of his PhD thesis.53 The book argues in favour of ecumenical understanding, with a Mariological paradigm for unity. One of the strengths of the EthOTC is the maintenance of its traditional scholarly councils and institutions, but this is also a weakness when it comes to achieving a consensus on ecumenical issues. Based on his peace and reconciliation activities and his contribution to bringing an end to the Ethio–Eritrean conflict, Abune Paulos was elected honorary president of the Council of Religions for Peace in New York. On 25 June 2000, he organised a meeting of religious leaders and gave directives for a national symposium on peace and understanding in Ethiopia, which took place at the Economic Commission for Africa in Addis Ababa. At the World Millennium Conference of Religions, held in New York between 16 and 19 August 2000, Abune Paulos gave a keynote address on peace and understanding.54 On the domestic level, he had close personal relations with Ethiopian Muslim leaders and was often visited by them. This facilitated defusing certain tense situations, such as conflict between Muslims and Christians in connection with Christian processions, and tensions following the burning of churches in Muslim-dominated areas like Jimma. Thus the EthOTC leadership under Abune Paulos was actively engaged in inter-religious dialogue and promoted inter-religious harmony both on the international and national levels. The EthOTC leadership also maintained cordial relations with specific religious communities such as the Rastafarians to the extent of organising joint activities, for example a pilgrimage to Ejersa Goro, the birthplace of Emperor Haile Selassie, in July 2011. The spectrum of Christian churches in Eritrea is similar to that in Ethiopia with two exceptions: the Catholic Church has a higher profile since it was connected with the Italian colonial presence which legitimised state formation, and activities of the Free Evangelical and Pentecostal churches are prohibited. External political pressure on the churches in Eritrea induced a situation which is not conducive to ecumenical activity. Basically, the Orthodox and other recognised churches in Eritrea had the choice between following government directives or emphasising Christian solidarity and unity with their oppressed non-recognised brethren. The government policies obviously protected the recognised churches from unwanted competition from groups which might be regarded as foreign intruders, yet also contravened Christian principles of concern for the persecuted and marginalised. In practice Christian leaders had little choice but to concentrate on surviving and preserving the status quo.

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Conclusion The late twentieth and early twenty-first centuries have been a period of crucial importance for the Orthodox churches in Ethiopia and Eritrea. After a long period of unquestioned hegemony and church–state symphony, the discourse of Orthodoxy in the Horn of Africa was suddenly shaken to its foundations. The first challenge was atheist communism which questioned the very right to existence of the Church; subsequently came inclusion in modern secular states with varying ideologies and increased exposure to globalisation and competition in the ‘religious marketplace’. These challenges were complicated by the influence of ethnicity, which became especially important after the emergence of an ethnic federal system of administration in Ethiopia, and also played a role under the surface in a different way in Eritrea. The Orthodox churches have weathered many of these storms surprisingly well. The process of centralisation of the hierarchy and the introduction of parish councils facilitated the transformation of a feudal Church dominated by the nobility into a grassroots people’s church. However, the lifting of external pressures and increasing internal freedom in Ethiopia introduced a plethora of new problems connected with ethnicity, accountability and transparency. The passing away of Abune Paulos was made known on 16 August 2012, while the untimely passing of Prime Minister Zenawi was announced on 20 August 2012 after a period of uncertainty and rumours caused by his absence from the public scene. Meles Zenawi has been succeeded by VicePrime Minister Hailemariam Desalegn,55 who is the first Protestant southerner to become executive head of the government, although there have previously been Protestant presidents (a mainly symbolic post). The Holy Synod has been regulating certain affairs pertaining to the power balance between the Holy Synod and the Patriarchate, and proceeded to elect a new Patriarch on 28 February 2013, Abune Mathias. In Eritrea, the Orthodox Church has continued to endure the presence of appointed lay administrators, as in Ethiopia during the communist period. The ambiguity of the status of the Church in the newly independent Eritrea and the potential problem of Islamic fundamentalism have caused the government to maintain an iron grip on religion, dictating which forms are allowed and which proscribed in general and even which are proscribed within each religious tradition. Both the Orthodox churches in Ethiopia and Eritrea owe their existence to a large extent to political circumstances, setting the pattern for typical Orthodox state and church symphony, with both churches being very close to their respective governments. Despite difficulties in adjusting to the situation of a pluralistic society, enormous administrative problems and the changing and to some extent ambiguous relationship between church and state, the EthOC has begun to adjust to the new challenges of globalisation. The establishment of organisations like Mahibere Kidusan and other institutions, as well as the Orthodox Development Commission, have contributed to the adaptation of the Church to the new contexts of the twenty-first century. In

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Eritrea the Church is more protected from competition, but has less space in which to develop her potential. It is denied the opportunity to function as an expression of civil society and for the most part NGOs are forbidden to operate. In the long term, despite official government policies, the strong influence of religion on politics and everyday life in both Ethiopia and Eritrea has prevented a definitive separation between church and state.

Appendix 1

Religious leaders

The Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church • • •

Abune Merkurios (?–), in office 1988–present. In 1991 he went to the USA and claims to be the legitimate Patriarch Abune Paulos (1935–2012), in office 1991–2012 Abune Mathias (1941–), in office 2013–.

The Eritrean Orthodox Tewahedo Church • • • •

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Abune Philipos (1901–2001), in office 1998–2001 Abune Yacoub (1926–2003), in office 2002–3 Abune Antonios (1927–), in office 2004–present, until deposed by Holy Synod in 2006; currently under house arrest Abune Dioscoros (1935–), in office 2007–present; his legitimacy remains disputed. Biography

The Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church Title: Patriarch and Catholicos of Ethiopia, Ichege of the See of St Tekle Haymanot, Archbishop of Axum. Abune Mathias was born in Agame region, northeast Tigray, on 5 January 1941. He followed his theological studies mainly in the famous Chih Monastery, in the Temben region, northeast Tigray. After being consecrated deacon and priest there, and after completing twelve years of traditional studies and preparatory monastic life, he became a monk in 1959. In 1965 he joined Aksum Zion School, where he studied for four years, after which he went to Gondar, where he studied New Testament exegesis and began a modern academic secular education. In 1973, he joined the Holy Trinity Cathedral staff, initiating his ecclesiastical career in the capital city Addis Ababa. He became the deputy secretary of Patriarch Tekle Haymanot in 1976 and was consecrated bishop in 1979 to serve in Jerusalem. Three years later he sought asylum in the United States, protesting against the political situation

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in Ethiopia. After the fall of the military junta, the newly elected Patriarch Abune Paulos appointed him in 1992 Archbishop of North America. In 2007 Mathias was reassigned to serve as Archbishop in Jerusalem. On 8 February 2013 he was elected the sixth Patriarch of Ethiopia and enthroned on 20 February 2013. Abune Paulos was born Gebre Medhin Wolde Yohannes, the son of a traditional teacher at the monastery of Abune Garima near Adwa in Tigray, northern Ethiopia. He pursued theological studies at Princeton University in the United States. Returning to Ethiopia in 1974, he became bishop, but was imprisoned for seven years by the Derg. After his release in 1983, he completed his PhD at Princeton University. He became Archbishop in 1986 while in exile and became Patriarch of the EthOC in July 1991. In 2006, he was made one of the seven presidents of the WCC. His passing away was announced on 16 August 2012. Abune Merkurios was born in the Eastern Gondar region, where he attended Zema school (liturgical school). He became a monk and later joined the choir of the Holy Trinity Cathedral in Addis Ababa. After 1974 he became a prominent figure in the Mahibere Kahinat [Association of Priests], a group liaising between the Church and the military regime. As a result of his closeness and loyalty to the communist regime, he was appointed assistant bishop. Subsequently he was assigned to a bishopric in Gode, Ogaden. He became Archbishop of Gondar after the removal of Bishop Endreyas and became Patriarch of the EthOC in 1988. On the fall of the communist regime he left for the USA, where he claims to be the legitimate Patriarch. The Eritrean Orthodox Tewahedo Church Title: Patriarch of Eritrea Abune Antonios was born in 1927 in the town of Hemberti, to the north of Asmara in the province of Hamisien. His father was a priest and at the age of five he entered the monastery of Debre Tsige Abune Anderias, where he was educated for the service of the Church, being ordained a deacon when he was twelve. Professed a monk and ordained priest in 1942, he was elected abbot in 1955. He was ordained as Bishop Antonios of Hamasien-Asmara on 19 June 1994 in St Mark’s Cathedral, Cairo, by Pope Shenuda III. In 2003 he was elected Patriarch; his ordination and enthronement as Patriarch took place on 23 April 2004 in Asmara, led by Pope Shenuda III, assisted by Eritrean and Coptic Orthodox metropolitans and bishops. He was deposed in 2006 and placed under house arrest.56 Abune Dioscoros was born in 1935 and is the Patriarch of the Eritrean Orthodox Tewahedo Church, appointed in April 2007 with the unanimous approval of the Holy Synod. In 2008 it was reported that certain Eritrean churches did not recognise Abune Dioscoros as Patriarch and continued to endorse his predecessor, Abune Antonios, who was removed from the post

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having criticised the government of Eritrea. The removal of Abune Antonios at the behest of the Eritrean government was denounced by the other Oriental Orthodox churches, who have all refused to recognise Abune Dioscoros as the legitimate Patriarch of Eritrea. 3

Theological publications

The Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church • • • • • • • • • •

Tinsae [Resurrection] Tserha Tseyon [Cry of Zion] Zena bete krestiyan [News of the Church] Hamer [Ship; figuratively ‘Church’] Meleket [Trumpet] Sem‘a Tsedq [Witness of Righteousness] Awaj Negari [Proclamation Messenger] Metsehete Teleqo [Mission Magazine] Fnote Tsedq [Way of Righteousness] Etiopia Beta Kristyan T’nat Metfehät [Journal of Ethiopian Church Studies].

The Eritrean Tewahedo Orthodox Church • •

Publications of the Eritrean Orthodox Church ended in 2000 No current data available.

4

Congregations

The Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church Structure of the Church: There are currently 49 dioceses in Ethiopia, and 12 abroad. All of the bishops have the title of Likepapas or archbishop, assisted by komos (formerly known as Episcopos), who can perform certain functions of the bishops in their absence, but no priestly ordination. Currently, there is no clear distinction between the ranks of archbishop such as that of ‘metropolitan’ in other Orthodox churches; all archbishops have equal status as members of the Holy Synod. The Holy Synod has approximately 60 members. Certain dioceses are directly responsible to the Patriarch (including important places and all those abroad), while others fall under the general administrator of the Patriarchate. Various archbishops are responsible for more than one diocese, and some archbishops do not have a specific diocese but have a sphere of responsibility, for example being responsible for the Orthodox Development Commission or the Theological College. Number of clergy and church buildings: There are approximately 30,000 churches of different categories, each of which functions as a parish. The

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number of clergy (married priests and ordained monks) is approximately 190,000, and the number of deacons is approximately 135,000. While 937 monasteries have been counted,57 there is a tradition of old age monasticism, often including residence outside of monasteries, as well as itinerant hermits. Thus, it is very difficult to estimate the total number of monks and nuns and no exact figures are available.58 The Eritrean Tewahedo Orthodox Church Structure of the Church: Patriarch (assisted by government-appointed lay administrators) and a Holy Synod composed of 11 bishops.59 Number of clergy and church buildings: 15,000 priests, 22 monasteries, 1,500 churches.60 5

Population

Ethiopia The last census conducted in Ethiopia dates from 1984, and data for subsequent years rely mainly on projections and partial reactualisations. As a consequence, current available data have to be considered with caution and to be taken as approximate information and not as reliable and definitive data. In 2007,61 Ethiopia numbered 32,138,126 Orthodox believers out of a total population of 73,918,505, that is 43.5 per cent of the population, while the 1994 census62 noted Orthodox believers as 50.6 per cent of the population. In 2007, Muslims numbered 25,045,550 (33.9 per cent of the total population), a slight increase from 1994 (32.8 per cent). Protestants numbered 13,746,787 (18.6 per cent), a sharp increase from 1994 (10.2 per cent). Catholics accounted for 0.7 per cent (0.9 per cent in 1994), and ‘traditional religions’ numbered 1,957,944 (2.6 per cent of the population), fewer than the 1994 number, which indicated 4.6 per cent of the total population. More than 80 ethnic groups are listed in the 2007 census, out of which 10 ethnic groups have a population of over 1 million. The two major ethnic groups, Oromo and Amhara, account for 61.4 per cent of the total population (respectively 34.5 per cent and 26.9 per cent each). The third ethnic group in size, Somali, account for 6.2 per cent, and the Tigray for 6.1 per cent of the population, followed by the Sidama (4 per cent). The Gurague and Welaita account respectively for 2.5 per cent and 2.3 per cent. Hadiya and Afar account for 1.7 per cent each, and Gamo for 1.5 per cent of the population. 63 Eritrea Data – not to say reliable data – on Eritrea are scarce. Current estimates for the total population vary between 5.25 million64 and 6.08 million.65 Nine ethnic groups are recognised, of which the Tigrinya accounts for a large majority at

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55 per cent of the population. It is followed by Tigre at 30 per cent. All other groups are much smaller: the Saho account for 4 per cent of the population, Kunama, Rashaida and Bilen for 2 per cent each, and together Afar, Beni Amir and Nera account for 5 per cent of the population.66 Reliable data concerning religion in Eritrea do not exist. Most Eritreans confess Christianity (chiefly Orthodox, but also Catholic or Protestant) or Islam (as predominantly Sunni Muslims).67 In 1999, it was estimated that Christian Orthodoxy constituted 46 per cent of the population, Islam 45 per cent, with the remaining 9 per cent divided among traditional religion Kunama (4.5 per cent), Catholics (3.5 per cent) and Protestant denominations (1 per cent).68

Acknowledgements We wish to thank Fr Emmanuel Fritsch for his attentive reading of an early draft of this chapter, as well as Dr Tricia Redeker Hepner (University of Tennessee, Knoxville) for her generous supply of data regarding the Eritrean Church.

Notes 1 Tewahedo is equivalent to miaphysite (in Greek), meaning ‘united nature’ as opposed to the duophysite (meaning two natures) doctrine of those who followed the Council of Chalcedon (AD 451). The acronym for the Church in Ethiopia is usually EOTC. However, for the sake of distinguishing between the two churches, in this chapter we use EthOC for the Ethiopian Church and ErOC for the Eritrean Church. 2 In Ethiopia and Eritrea, people are known by a first name followed by their father’s name (and sometimes grandfather’s name). Individuals are often referred to by their title (Ato/Mr, Wayzaro/Mrs) and first name. Ethiopian emperors are usually known by the single name given at their coronation, i.e. Emperor Haile Selassie I, his original name (first name and father’s name) being Ras Tafari Makonnen. Monks, bishops and patriarchs are given a new name with each change of position, a name usually composed of their title followed by a first name only, i.e. Abba Melaku and Abune Paulos. 3 While there are various scholarly systems to transliterate the Amharic language of Ethiopia, we have chosen a simplified transliteration in order to facilitate reading of the chapter by a readership not familiar with this language. 4 Haggai Erlich, ‘Identity and Church: Ethiopian–Egyptian Dialogue: 1924–1959’, International Journal of Middle East Studies, 2000, 32, 23–46; Kamil Murad, ‘La dernière phase des relations historiques entre l’Église copte d’Égypte et celle d’Éthiopie’, Bulletin de la Société d’Archéologie Copte, 1951–7, 14, 10–12. 5 Adugna Amanu, ‘The Ethiopian Orthodox Church Becomes Autocephalous’, History Department, Addis Ababa University, fourth-year paper, unpublished, 1969, pp. 62–3; Calvin E. Shenk, ‘The Development of the Ethiopian Orthodox Church and Its Relationship with the Ethiopian Government from 1930 to 1970’, unpublished PhD, New York University, 1972, p. 125; Erlich, ‘Identity and Church’, p. 29. 6 Yoland Mara, The Church of Ethiopia, the National Church in the Making, Asmara: Il Poligrafico, 1972, pp. 75–80. 7 See Article 127 of the Ethiopian Constitution of 1955. Cf. Margery Perham, The Government of Ethiopia, London: Faber and Faber, 1969, p. 461.

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8 Stéphane Ancel, ‘The Centralization Process of the Ethiopian Orthodox Church, an Ecclesiastical History of Ethiopia During the 20th Century’, Revue d’Histoire Ecclésiastique, 2011, 106, 497–510. 9 Stéphane Ancel, ‘L´Église orthodoxe d´Éthiopie à la veille d´une révolution (1971–1974): Réforme et mainmise sur la gestion des paroisses’, Cahiers d´Études Africaines, 2009, 196, 925–52. 10 Haile Mariam Larebo, ‘The Orthodox Church and the State in the Ethiopian Revolution, 1974–1984’, Religion in Communist Lands, 1986, 14, 148–59; Haile Mariam Larebo, ‘The Ethiopian Orthodox Church and Politics in the Twentieth Century: Part II’, Northeast African Studies, 1988, 10, 1–24; Calvin E. Shenk, ‘Church and State in Ethiopia: From Monarchy to Marxism’, Mission Studies, 1994, 11, 203–26; Stéphane Ancel, ‘Centralization and Political Changes: The Ethiopian Orthodox Church and the Ecclesiastical and Political Challenges in Contemporary Times’, Rassegna di studi etiopici, 2011, 3, 1–26. 11 Larebo, ‘The Orthodox Church and the State’, p. 152; Larebo, ‘Church and Politics’, p.17; Shenk, ‘Church and State’, p. 209; Ancel, ‘Political Changes’, pp. 9–10. 12 Abuna Paulos, Brief Life History of His Holiness Patriarch Theophilos, Addis Ababa: Holy Trinity College, 1995. 13 The Development and Inter-Church Aid Commission was founded on 5 January 1972. Empowering the Community, Addis Ababa: EOTC-DICAC, March 2011, p. 3. 14 Ancel, ‘Centralization’, pp. 512–18. 15 Giulia Bonacci, The Ethiopian Orthodox Church and the State, 1974–1991. Analysis of an Ambiguous Religious Policy, London: Centre of Ethiopian Studies, 2000. 16 Shenk, ‘Church and State’, pp. 220–1. 17 Haile Mariam Larebo, ‘Church and Politics’, p. 16. 18 Ancel, ‘Centralization’, pp. 512–18. 19 Larebo, ‘The Orthodox Church and the State’, pp. 154–5. 20 Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church, The Holy Synod has Anathematized Abba Merkorios and His Followers as They Have Violated the Canon Law of the Church, Addis Ababa: Secretariat of the Holy Synod, February 2007, p. 27. 21 Regarding Ethnic federalism in Ethiopia, see David Burton (ed.), Ethnic Federalism: The Ethiopian Experience in Comparative Perspective, Oxford: James Currey; Athens: Ohio University Press; Addis Ababa: Addis Ababa University Press, 2006. 22 Ancel, ‘Political Changes’, pp. 13–14. 23 Resolution of 21 January 2007 available on the website of the Ethiopian Holy Synod in exile: http://www.eotcholysynod.org (accessed 7 September 2012). 24 Resolution of 2 February 2007, available on the website of the Ethiopian Patriarchate: http://www.eotc-Patriarch.org (accessed 7 September 2012). 25 Fikru Gebre Kidan ‘“They Came Clutching the Cross”. A Study of the EOC and Its Mission in the West Indies, 1935–1974’, Journal of Ethiopian Studies, 2001, 24 (2), 5–34. 26 Joachim Persoon, ‘The Planting of the Tabot on European Soil: The Trajectory of Ethiopian Orthodox Involvement with the European Continent’, Studies in World Christianity, 2010, 16 (3), 320–40. 27 Constitution of the Federal Democratic Republic of Ethiopia, Addis Ababa, adopted 8 December 1994, published in Federal Negarit Gazeta, 21 August 1995 under Proclamation no. 1/1995. 28 Ancel, ‘Political Changes’, p. 16. 29 Deena Newman, ‘Prophecies, Police Reports, Cartoons and other Ethnographic Rumors in Addis Ababa’, Etnofoor, 1998, 11 (2), 83–110. 30 Yetenberk Tadele, ‘Abune Paulos fifth Ethiopian Orthodox Patriarch 1935–2012’, Fortune, 26 August 2012, p. 28. 31 Ancel, ‘Political Changes’, pp. 17–18.

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32 Christine Chaillot, The Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church Tradition: A Brief Introduction to its Life and Spirituality, Paris: Inter-Orthodox Dialogue, 2002, pp. 64–70. 33 All members have to give to the association a tithe, representing ideally one tenth of their incomes, although often a little less. Usually a Church tax, the fact that the tithe was given to another organisation than the Church was controversial. 34 Chaillot, Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church, pp. 83–100. 35 At present, Bibles are translated and published by the Bible Society of Ethiopia (BSE) in five major Ethiopian languages, i.e. Amharic, Oromo (Western and Central dialect), Tigrigna, Wolayitta and Gurage-Chaha languages. These languages are spoken by about 58 per cent of the population. The New Testament is available in more than twenty languages, including Aari, Afar, Anuak, Bench, Burji, Gedeo, Gumuz, Gurage, Hadiyya, Kafa, Kambatta, Konso, Maale, Nuer, Eastern Oromo, Gujji Oromo and Sidamma, spoken by about 30 per cent of the population. Thus Bibles and New Testaments are now published and available in languages which are spoken as mother tongues by 88 per cent of the Ethiopian population. http://biblesociety-ethiopia.org/?page_id=220 (accessed 27 March 2012). 36 Joachim Persoon, ‘Le poids de l’orthodoxie’, Cahiers de l’Afrique, 2003, 4, 67–70. 37 Bereket Habte Selassie, Wounded Nation: How a Once Promising Eritrea was Betrayed and its Future compromised, Trenton, NJ: Red Sea Press, 2011, pp. 240–1. 38 K. Zelleke and F. Heyer, Das Orthodoxie in Äthiopien und Eritrea, Heidelberg: Tabor Society, 2001, pp. 161–5. 39 ‘Crowning the First Patriarch of Eritrea’, Keraza, 1998, 1 (19–20), 5–17. http:// www.copticpope.org/modules.php?name=Sections&op=viewarticle&artid=62. However, Keraza from 1998 is no longer available online. 40 Rainer Voigt, ‘Die Eriträische Orthodoxe Kirche’, Oriens Christianus, 1999, 83, 187–91. 41 Abebe Kifleyesus, ‘Cosmologies in Collision: Pentecostal Conversion and Christian Cults in Asmara’, African Studies Review, 2006, 49 (1), 75–92. 42 Joachim Persoon, ‘The Spiritual Legacy of the Ethio-Eritrean Conflict’, Journal of Eastern Christian Studies, 2005, 57 (3–4), 291–314. 43 Amnesty International, Eritrea: Religious Persecution, AI Index: AFR 64/013/2005, pp. 1 and 10. 44 Tricia Redeker Hepner ‘Religion, Repression, and Human Rights in Eritrea’, unpublished manuscript in G. Bonacci’s possession, p. 22. 45 Ibid., p. 27. 46 Tom Killion ‘Popular Mobilization in the Eritrean National Liberation Struggle’, Eritrean Studies Review, 1997, 2 (1), iii–vii (special issue on ‘Popular Mobilization in the Eritrean National Liberation Movement’). 47 Selassie, Wounded Nation, p. 252. 48 Eritrean Community for Human Rights and Refugee Protection, press release, ‘Official of Eritrean Orthodox Church in Jail’, 8 October 2004, http://www.sudantribune.com/spip.php?article5896 (accessed 20 September 2012). 49 Report by Evangelical Church Fellowship of Ethiopia, ‘Missions Research’, published as a loose-bound book, May 2005, Addis Ababa: ECFE, Ethiopia, pp. 45–6. This document is in Joachim Persoon’s possession and is available from the Secretariat of the ECFE in Addis Ababa. 50 Fr Petros Berga and Leticia Padolina (eds), An Ecumenical Initiative in Ethiopia, Preliminary Conference Proceedings, 28–30 November 2005, Addis Ababa: Ethiopian Catholic Secretariat, 2006, p. 19. 51 Ibid., p. 31. 52 Girma Bekele, The In-Between People, A Reading of D. Bosch through the Lens of Mission History and Contemporary Challenges in Ethiopia, Eugene, OR: Pickwick Publications, 2011.

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53 Abune Paulos I, Filsata: The Feast of the Assumption of the Virgin Mary and the Mariological Tradition of the Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church, Addis Ababa: Beta Kenet (Publications of the Patriarchate), 2012. 54 Megabe Mistir, Wolde Rufael Fetahe, Abune Garima, Merkeb Merkuria et al. (eds), His Holiness Abune Paulos International Figure, Addis Ababa: Beta Kenet (Publications of the Patriarchate), 2007, pp. 157–8. 55 Tesfa Waldeyes, ‘Haile Comes to the Fore’, Fortune, 16 September 2012, pp. 1–2. 56 http://tewahdo.org/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=94:biogra phy-of-his-holiness-Patriarch-antonios&Itemid=112 (accessed 21 June 2012). 57 Christine Chaillot and Alexander Belopopsky, Towards Unity. The Theological Dialogue between the Orthodox Church and the Oriental Orthodox Churches, Geneva: Inter-Orthodox Dialogue, 1998, p. 25. 58 Figures for the structure of the Church and the number of clergy were obtained from the Head of the Subaka Gubayé (Paris Council Office), Like Me’emeran Fantahun Muche, and by adding figures for each diocese from the Subaka Gubayé publication Awaj Negeri Metsehet, 4th year, no. 7, October 2011. Like Me’emeran Fantahun Muche is a PhD candidate in theology at a university in Vienna. He regrets that the tools and methods currently at the disposal of the Subaka Gubayé do not provide exact statistics. 59 Information given by Fr Athanasius (Eritrean Orthodox Church in Cincinnati, USA), thanks to the help of T. Redeker Hepner, 27 March 2013. 60 Ken Parry, David J. Melling, Dimitri Brady, Sidney H. Griffith and John F. Healey (eds), The Blackwell Dictionary of Eastern Christianity, Oxford: Blackwell Publishing, 2001, pp. 182–4. 61 Data for religious affiliation in 2007 from the Summary and Statistical Report of the 2007 Population and Housing Census, Population Census Commission, Federal Democratic Republic of Ethiopia, Addis Ababa, 2008, p. 111. 62 Data for religious affiliation in 1994 from The 1994 Population and Housing Census of Ethiopia. Results at Country Level, vol. II, Analytical Report. Central Statistical Authority, Federal Democratic Republic of Ethiopia, Addis Ababa, June 1999, p. 55. 63 The data for the ethnic population of the country from the Summary and Statistical Report of the 2007 Population and Housing Census, p. 16. 64 Data from World Bank statistics: http://ddp-ext.worldbank.org/ext/ d d p r e p o r t s / V i e w S h a r e d Re p o r t ? R E P O RT _ I D = 9 1 4 7 & R E Q U E S T _ TYPE=VIEWADVANCED&DIMENSIONS=78 (accessed 2 July 2012). 65 Data from the CIA World Factbook: https://www.cia.gov/library/publications/theworld-factbook/geos/er.html (accessed 2 July 2012). 66 Ibid. 67 ‘Eritrea’, in Encyclopaedia Aethiopica, vol. 2, Wiesbaden: Otto Harrassowitz Gmbh, 2005, p. 357. 68 Tewelde Beyene, ‘Religions. Inculturation réussie’, Vivant Univers, January– February 1999, no. 439, p. 34.

27 The Coptic Orthodox Church Fiona McCallum

Under the leadership of Patriarch Shenouda III, Coptic Orthodox Patriarch of Alexandria and All Africa (1971–2012), the Coptic Orthodox Church fashioned a defined political role for itself as the liaison between the Egyptian state and the community. This was grudgingly accepted by the majority of the community as the best way to secure the position and safety of Copts in Egypt, given the lack of viable alternatives from either lay representatives or beyond the communal framework. This type of church– state relationship can be seen as a revised version of the historic millet system, employed by the Ottoman Empire as a means to administer areas where non-Muslims resided. Furthermore, it maintained the categorisation of non-Muslims as a group, rather than as individual citizens. There is disagreement regarding the size of the Coptic population, with the government suggesting 5–6 per cent, the Coptic Orthodox Church 8–10 per cent and expatriate groups citing inflated numbers of 15 per cent or more.1 Over 90 per cent of Egyptian Christians are adherents of the Coptic Orthodox Church. The momentous events of 2011, when Egyptians followed the example of Tunisian demonstrators and successfully campaigned for the downfall of President Hosni Mubarak has the potential to open a new chapter in Egypt’s political development, which could affect all aspects of society. From operating in a system where the rules of the relationship had been honed from decades of experience, the church leadership now has to navigate its future political role in a changed environment, which is a consequence of challenging the status quo. The citizenship discourse which has been prominent in the initial period after the overthrow of Mubarak, has the potential to adversely affect the dominant political role of the Church within its community. Therefore, the political role of the Coptic Orthodox Church in the second decade of the twenty-first century can be seen to be in flux. This chapter starts by exploring the features embedded in its religious heritage which have allowed the Church to develop this temporal dimension. It then discusses church–state relations under Mubarak, and offers insight into the position of the Church in the post-Mubarak era. Finally, the chapter examines the involvement of the Church in interreligious dialogue at the international and national levels.

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Religious heritage and contemporary temporal authority The Coptic Orthodox Church is intricately linked to the narrative of Christianity in Egypt. Egypt was an integral part of the early church, thanks to the flourishing of desert monasteries and Alexandria’s reputation as an intellectual and theological centre.2 However, the majority of theologians in Egypt rejected the 451 Council of Chalcedon rulings on the Christological definition, and subsequently, a separate church in Egypt was born with its own line of patriarchs. While the Chalcedonian Orthodox Church retained a presence in Egypt, most of the population were loyal to this new national church. Indeed, the term Copt reinforces this territorial link as it is derived from the Greek aigyptos meaning Egypt.3 In present-day Egypt, the vast majority of Egyptian Christians are members of the Coptic Orthodox Church with the remainder mainly belonging to the Coptic Catholic Church, Coptic Protestant groups or the Greek Orthodox Church. Therefore, the Coptic Orthodox Church can rightly claim to be the Egyptian national church. The existence of a distinct homeland, combined with an exclusive Coptic identity, can be perceived as enhancing a sense of belonging amongst the community, which allows the religious leader to develop temporal authority, if desired.4 The Islamic environment also influenced the ability of the Church to act as the political representative of the Coptic community. As a consequence of the Arab conquest in the seventh century, the new Muslim rulers instituted a system of governance based on religious affiliation. Christians (and Jews) were recognised as people of the book (ahl al-kitab), and were allowed to retain their faith and enjoy protection, on condition of acknowledging the authority of the new empire, and paying a tribute known as the jizya. In this way, they became known as dhimmi (covenanted people).5 Bruce Masters argues that this categorisation can be termed taifa (collective group).6 The Patriarch was viewed by Islamic rulers as the head of the community and held liable for the overall conduct of the entire group. One of their duties was to collect taxes from the group on behalf of the state, which led to a situation where they could be perceived as de facto administrators.7 Thus, the patriarchal system of governance blended well with Islamic rule, and allowed Coptic Orthodox patriarchs to retain their influence over the community. This restricted autonomy for non-Muslims under the Islamic empires was institutionalised by the Ottomans in the mid-fifteenth century through the millet system. Initially established under the Greek Orthodox Patriarch in Constantinople in 1454, this patriarch was responsible for all religious, civil, legal, educational and financial affairs of Christians in the empire.8 However, the divisions within Eastern Christianity meant that the different denominations developed their own version of the millet. In the Coptic Orthodox case, this was a localised version, representative of the autonomous nature of Egypt within the Ottoman Empire, where the Egyptian ruler and Coptic Orthodox Patriarch took the role of the Ottoman Sultan and Greek Orthodox Patriarch.9 Rowe argues that this can be seen as ‘an early corporatist form of government’.10

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Indeed, this system is still influential in our understanding of church–state relations in Egypt today. The idea that the patriarch represents the community, and can liaise between the government and community, is one which has persisted throughout the centuries. For the Egyptian state, the preference of dealing with ‘Coptic issues’ through one individual rather than a variety of actors, has been dominant in the independence era. Similarly, the church leadership has also proved amenable to this type of arrangement. Therefore, the Egyptian political system, which theoretically invites all citizens to participate as individuals regardless of religious affiliation, seems to exist in conjunction with the traditional church–state liaison system. Rowe suggests that this should be more accurately termed as a ‘neo-millet system’, given that the original millet was abolished with the collapse of the Ottoman Empire, and that the modern version is a more informal organisational structure, rather than the discriminatory hierarchical order of the past.11 Therefore, the historical experience of the Church in Egypt has played an integral part in shaping attitudes to the political role of the Church, and providing it with the capacity to undertake such a role. This temporal authority has been enhanced by the renewal process which revitalised the Church from the 1940s onwards. The Sunday school movement initially focused on religious education but expanded to include social activities, theological discussions and monasticism. Internal reform increased with the rise of these activists within the hierarchy. The renewal process has allowed the Church to provide a space for Copts where they can fully participate, and in doing so, it reinforced their own dominance over the community. Church attendance is strong, lay members have been incorporated in to the organisational structure, and social activities tend to revolve around the Church, such as visiting monasteries, voluntary work and classes run by the Bishopric of Public, Ecumenical and Social Services.12 However, the emphasis on church-related activities can be regarded as being at the expense of withdrawing from wider Egyptian society, thus underpinning their dependence upon the Church. Patriarch Shenouda also sought to consolidate his control over the Church through obtaining direct control over the monasteries, significantly expanding the number of bishops – new appointees are now regarded as his protégés – and minimising the independence of the community council.13 Such measures have enhanced the authority of the Patriarch, both within the Church and the wider community, thus creating conditions which accommodate a temporal role.

Church–state relations – the role of Patriarch Shenouda The political role of the contemporary Coptic Orthodox Church has been heavily influenced by its long-reigning patriarch, Shenouda III.14 Born Nazir Gayed in 1923, his own spiritual path mirrored that of the wider Church. He was a prominent member of the Sunday school movement, entered monastic

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life in 1954, was appointed general Bishop of Higher Theological Studies in 1962 where he focused primarily on the youth, and was elected to the patriarchy by altar lot in 1971, aged forty-seven – relatively young for a patriarch.15 Many scholars argue that Shenouda represented a new more assertive force within the Coptic community, which focused upon Coptic rights in the Egyptian state, in contrast to the accommodating approach of the past. For example, Anthony O’Mahony suggests that, ‘It was to Shenouda, the product and personification of the Church’s renewal, that the task fell of inscribing the new leadership vocation of the Patriarchate of Alexandria in history.’16 In his early years as patriarch, Shenouda challenged the Islamisation process, which was taking place in Egypt with the apparent consent of President Anwar Sadat. Violent communal incidents and measures to increase the role of sharia within the Egyptian legal system led to the Patriarch publicly denouncing these events through holding a Coptic conference, calling for communal fasting and cancelling Easter celebrations in 1980 as a protest. The personality clash between Shenouda and Sadat resulted in his banishment to a desert monastery in 1980, where he remained until 1985, when Sadat’s successor, Hosni Mubarak, allowed his return to Cairo. During this period, he was still the official head of the Church but a committee of bishops governed church affairs.17 On resuming his full responsibilities as patriarch, he continued to seek to represent the Coptic community. However, his earlier confrontational approach has been replaced by a more cautious one, which perceives the safeguarding of the Coptic presence in Egypt as of paramount importance. This means that intervention tends to be selective and restricted to specific issues. Under Shenouda, ensuring that the Church retained its leadership role within the community also became a priority. While it can be argued that this requires government recognition of the liaison role, simultaneously, this relationship can also be used by the Patriarch to strengthen the position of the Church. The increased presence of the Church in the public sphere is also perceived to have a direct correlation with the trend of Coptic withdrawal from national politics, which has occurred during this period. Therefore, the desire to protect its privileged position with the state influenced the political role of the Church in the Mubarak period.

The Church as political actor In order to execute its role as political representative of the community, the church leadership personified by the Patriarch would be expected to raise issues of communal concern with the state. These primarily pertain to equality and security. However, the methods used by the Patriarch tend to differ depending upon the specific issue. Predictably, given his position as head of the Church, the Patriarch prioritises issues which can be perceived as directly affecting the faith of the community, e.g., conversion, or the future presence of the community, e.g., church building regulations. This prioritisation may not necessarily overlap with the urgencies of other parts

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of the Coptic community. For example, the Church is a fairly conservative institution and, consequently, has favoured the status quo regarding the role of Islam in Egyptian political life even although this adversely affects the equality of citizenship in Egypt. That the interests of the Church do not fully coincide with those of the community should not be a surprise, but it does suggest the possibility of tension between the Patriarch and sectors of his constituency. This reinforces the notion that the political role of the Patriarch is one which is reluctantly accepted by the community, in acknowledgement of the lack of viable alternatives. Conversion, divorce, church building, political representation and security, have all been issues recently addressed by the Patriarch, but the consequences of this intervention have been interpreted as mixed by the community. With regard to conversion, the Patriarch has noticeably intervened on two similar occasions when rumours spread that the wife of a Coptic priest had converted to Islam. In the first example, known as the Wafaa Constantine affair, this middle-aged woman, apparently in an unhappy marriage, disappeared from her home in the Beheira diocese in 2004. Coptic protests in the diocese spread to the patriarchate in Cairo, where they accused Muslims groups of ‘kidnapping’ the priest’s wife and forcing her to convert. In an attempt to compel the security services to find and return Constantine, the Patriarch employed a symbolic and powerful tool by announcing a retreat to a desert monastery until the issue was resolved. This measure was seen as successful by the community, as the woman met with bishops and declared that she remained Christian. In contrast, some Muslims complained that the state colluded with the Church to prevent an individual publicly changing their faith. It can be argued that the Church used its influence and strength within the community, to convince state authorities that the best way to defuse the situation was to accommodate the demands of the Church.18 An almost identical situation erupted in 2010 over the religious identity of Camelia Shehata. In the aftermath of this incident, Muslim protests against what they perceived as the capitulation of the Egyptian state in returning Shehata to the Church, reinforced a growing assumption that the government’s desire to mollify Coptic discontent would prioritise its relationship with the Church over its responsibility to protect individual citizens.19 Both cases continue to be controversial within Islamist circles, not only in Egypt, but also in other parts of the region, such as Iraq, where militants demanded the release of both women from the Coptic Orthodox Church as part of their conditions to free hostages taken during an attack on a Christian church in Baghdad in 2010.20 The public nature of conversion in Egypt means that it can be perceived by some as evidence of the superiority of one religion rather than reflecting individual choice. In this light, the significance of a priest’s wife’s conversion and the potential damage that this would cause to the Coptic faith explains the direct patriarchal intervention and the strength of feeling demonstrated by both Coptic and Muslim protestors. In contrast, other incidents relating to conversion tend to be dealt with privately by the Patriarch, if broached at

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all. In Egypt, there are no laws against conversion but the process can be seen as against societal norms. The issue also raises doubt about the compatibility of Article 46 of the Egyptian Constitution, which guarantees freedom of belief, and Article 2, which confirms that sharia is the principal source of legislation.21 Thus, Islamic missionary activities are sanctioned by the state, and the bureaucratic procedure, including new identification cards with Muslim names, tends to be straightforward for conversion to Islam. The reverse is certainly not true. Motives for conversion to Islam are often linked to family matters. According to Islamic law, a non-Muslim man cannot be married to a Muslim woman. Therefore, some Coptic men convert in order to marry the woman of their choice. Similarly, Coptic women marrying a Muslim man are also likely to convert, although not required to do so. This is partly because a non-Muslim has no inheritance or custodial rights from a Muslim and also because they are likely to be disowned by their Christian family. In some cases, Coptic families of young women who have converted accuse Muslim groups of kidnapping them, but evidence is rarely given to justify such claims.22 Yet the Patriarch has not publicly addressed the issues of equality relevant to this issue, and instead seems content to focus on specific cases which would have a large-scale adverse impact on the Church. Another reason for conversion is divorce. This personal status matter has become politicised under Shenouda. According to a papal decree issued by Shenouda shortly after becoming patriarch in 1971, divorce, referred to as annulment or dissolution, is only allowed under specific conditions, namely adultery and change of religion of the spouse.23 This has led to confrontation with the Egyptian state. In 1956, judicial competence of religious courts was transferred to civil courts, which still ruled according to the relevant personal status regulations. Civil courts have granted a divorce to many Copts by basing judgments on the 1938 Coptic Orthodox Personal Status which allows nine provisions for grounds for divorce.24 As there is no separate civil marriage in Egypt, any remarriage has to take place under the auspices of the Church. This discrepancy becomes problematic when a divorced Copt is refused this permission, because the ruling is not in alignment with the papal decree. In 2003, one such individual, Atif Kirulus Yusif, refused to accept this decision and appealed through the Egyptian court system.25 This action started a court process of rulings and appeals which culminated in the Supreme Administrative Court upholding the ruling based on the constitutional right to marry. However, Shenouda based his patriarchy upon strict adherence to church teachings and refused to countenance any adjustment on this matter. Furthermore, he perceived divorce as a personal status issue, which is not under the jurisdiction of state courts. Therefore, the church hierarchy response was to reject the successive rulings, arguing that the Church could not go against divine law. While this particular case could be interpreted as a defeat for the Patriarch, in June 2008, the 1938 regulations were amended, with state approval, by the Coptic Orthodox Community Council (controlled by Shenouda). These conformed exactly to the 1971 papal decree

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and allowed appeals to the Patriarch, rather than the state. There was significant criticism within the Coptic community of church–state collusion, and it is evident that divorce is one issue where Shenouda’s view was not representative of all in the community. Thus, he utilised his relationship with the state to counter pressure from the courts. The issue of divorce has the potential to impair church–state relations on a regular basis as other Copts launch legal appeals against the church decision, as occurred again in 2010.26 There were also occasional protests in the summer of 2011 at the patriarchate and Ministry of Justice, campaigning against the Church’s stance, including individual ‘resignations’.27 This struggle over supremacy on the divorce issue has implications for Coptic conversion to Islam. Nathalie Bernard-Maugiron argues that the current system ‘has the effect of encouraging conversions motivated by the desire to circumvent conservative personal status laws rather than by religious conviction’.28 It is argued that a policy change on this issue would lead to a significant decrease in the number of Copts converting to Islam in order to obtain a divorce. Furthermore, many of these individuals try to revert to their original religious identity. Crucially, this raises issues regarding apostasy and tends to centre upon their desire to have their national identification cards reflect their correct religion. Attempts to reconvert were subject to an increase in legal challenges in 2007. The Administrative Court ruled that these individuals were manipulating religion for their own interests and that once they declared themselves as Muslim, the laws of that religion should apply, rather than those of their original faith. Therefore, the state was not obligated to provide new identification cards reflecting their Christian religious identity. This ruling was reversed in 2008 by the Supreme Administrative Court, but their national identification cards would acknowledge that they had ‘reconverted’.29 While the Patriarch lent his support to the affected individuals, he was unwilling to reconsider church policy in order to engage with the underlying reason behind this reconversion trend. The controversy surrounding church building is a longstanding Coptic grievance and, again, raises questions concerning equality in Egypt. While it is relatively straightforward to gain permission to build a mosque, the same is not true for churches. Church building regulations are derived from the Ottomanera Hayamouni decree and the 1934 Ministry of Interior rules, which require several conditions to be met, as well as presidential approval.30 Shenouda did not openly address this as an equality issue but, instead, appeared to concentrate upon the practicalities. Whenever a new permit to construct or repair a church was granted, he publicly declared his appreciation through al-Keraza, the church magazine.31 The state has acknowledged some of the bureaucratic problems associated with acquiring a permit, and enacted several reforms, including the delegation of authorisation to presidential advisers in 1999, and to provincial governors in 2005.32 However, decisions on applications can still take years, and local bureaucracies and the security services continue to hinder construction. One apparent solution practised by the Coptic

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community is to convert a Coptic-owned building into a place of worship, and then attempt to get a retrospective permit. Such manoeuvres are often seen as the catalyst for violent clashes over church building. Government policy has tended to be reactive, by dealing with each individual incident separately as a security matter, rather than tackling the underlying issues regarding the public role of places of worship and equality. Therefore, while the Coptic Orthodox Church has benefited from an increase in church building permits, albeit from an extremely low level, as an institution, it has not publicly campaigned on this issue in the context of equal rights as supported within the wider community. On political representation, Shenouda was more vocal about the responsibility of the state to tackle this significant issue. The few Copts represented in the Mubarak regime were seen as belonging to the elite and not interested in issues affecting the Coptic community. Many Copts also perceived that discrimination was ubiquitous, as the equality enshrined in the Constitution was not fully implemented, with regard to employment and opportunities in the state sector, as well as other issues discussed above such as conversion and church building. While the Patriarch voiced concerns about the small number of Copts active in the political sphere, this was always couched within a discourse of national unity, and included other groups also perceived to be underrepresented, such as women and youth.33 In this way, he argued that Copts were not demanding special privileges but merely wanted to enjoy their full rights as Egyptian citizens. In particular, he put the onus on Egyptian political parties, especially the then-ruling National Democratic Party, to select Coptic candidates for viable seats.34 Therefore, Shenouda did recognise one of the key Coptic concerns, but left the responsibility to the state to improve the situation, rather than deconstructing the complex concepts of citizenship and equality, which seemed to underwrite the Egyptian state. The last issue, which is interconnected with the preceding ones, is security. Church–state relations are heavily influenced by the provision of security to the community. The Mubarak state positioned itself as a bulwark against Islamist rule, implying that the situation of Christians would deteriorate significantly in the event of regime change. Given that the Patriarch perceived the main function of his role as communal leader as ensuring their protection, this allowed a mutual relationship to develop. To a certain extent, the Mubarak regime was seen as the best security guarantor, particularly after its anti-terror campaigns against Islamist militant groups operating in Upper Egypt from the mid-1990s onwards. However, there were still regular outbursts of communal violence, often sparked by claims of unauthorised church building, rumours about Copts insulting Islam or its believers and disputes between members of the different communities which escalated into armed clashes. Echoing widely held views within the Coptic community, the Patriarch admitted that on some occasions, justice was sacrificed in favour of reconciliation, which acknowledged neither the underlying issues behind clashes nor the criminal acts which occurred. One notorious incident took

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place in the village of al-Kush in 2000, when a dispute between a Copt shop owner and Muslim customer resulted in the death of twenty Christians and one Muslim, as well as the destruction of Coptic property.35 Given that relations were already tense as a result of previous violence in 1998, the security services were criticised for their delayed response, unwillingness to distinguish between victims and aggressors when making arrests and insistence on holding a traditional reconciliation meeting as a resolution of the violence. The Patriarch remarked that ‘True reconciliation can take place only after the blood of these victims receives justice.’36 This criticism on focusing upon reconciliation at the expense of justice was reiterated after multiple attacks on churches in Alexandria in 2005. In a press interview, the Patriarch stated that ‘The problems need a radical cure not a cover-up.’37 While these comments would suggest that the Patriarch is indeed the spokesman for the community view on this issue, some clarifications need to be made. First, such outspoken remarks are not given in the aftermath of all incidents. Second, the Patriarch has been quick to blame the problems on local authorities rather than the central government. This contrasts with much of the community, who held Mubarak and his regime as responsible for allowing an environment where communal violence became prevalent in society. This difference can be explained by the Patriarch’s belief that overt criticism of the actors, who were also security guarantors for the community, was counterproductive. However, the willingness and ability of the Egyptian state to provide this protection in its latter years began to be questioned by some in the community. The bombing of a Coptic Orthodox church in Alexandria in January 2011, which left twenty-four dead and over seventy injured, reinforced this idea. Therefore, while Patriarch Shenouda certainly addressed political matters during the Mubarak era, these did not always reflect the same concerns, objectives or discourse, as the community he claimed to represent. The growing gap between the Patriarch’s recommendation of what was best for the community, and the views of others within the community, especially the youth, was already problematic by the end of the first decade of the twenty-first century. However, the Egyptian uprising has exposed and widened these differences, and presents a significant challenge to the patriarchal political model outlined above.

Implications of the 25 January revolution The Egyptian political landscape changed dramatically on 25 January 2011 when protestors resisted regime orchestrated violence and secured the forced resignation of their long-reigning president on 11 February. The protests were an illustration of citizens working together, in pursuit of a common goal, regardless of age, gender, religion or ideology. Images abounded of protestors in Tahrir Square, depicting their unity through the symbols of the cross and crescent, as well as protecting one another during prayers. This apparent national revolution seemed to echo historical periods of communal

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cooperation such as the 1919 revolution.38 The emphasis on citizenship participation challenges the political status quo within the Coptic community. The church leadership, especially Patriarch Shenouda, were closely associated with the Mubarak regime, as a result of the operation of the neo-millet system described above, which served the interests of both parties. Indeed, the Patriarch publicly supported Mubarak until his resignation, and was critical of Coptic participation in protests. Given that communal backing of the political role of the Patriarch was grounded in the assumption that there was no viable alternative, the position of the Coptic Orthodox Church beyond its spiritual vocation is now in flux and dependent upon external developments. One of the political options available to the Coptic community is a ‘citizenship first’ approach. This would allow them to cooperate with their fellow Egyptians in navigating the new political environment. In general, Copts have justified their withdrawal from the public sphere because of the lack of opportunities available to them. Building on the protest slogans of equality, freedom and representation, they may resolve to reintegrate into national politics (and life). A Coptic presence in the protests demonstrated that some were willing to explore this possibility. In the first elections of the Mubarak era, Coptic participation increased (as did the overall turnout), candidates stood for various parties and eight were elected, including two in Islamist coalitions.39 Notably, Patriarch Shenouda instructed Copts to vote as part of their civic duty. In contrast to past elections when he openly supported Mubarak and the ruling party, he called on his community to elect the candidate they perceived would be the best representative, regardless of the individual’s political stance or religion.40 This type of statement was consistent with the Patriarch’s strong patriotism and would indicate support for a revised concept of citizenship which ensures equality amongst all Egyptians. However, a vibrant political sphere would increase pressure on the Church to relinquish its political role and concentrate on spiritual matters only. Although, as discussed above, the dividing line between the public and private sphere can be blurred, dependent upon specific issues such as conversion and divorce. Yet, the first year of the post-Mubarak era has also witnessed an increase in communal violence. Prominent church burnings include one in Helwan province in March which left two people dead; two in Imbaba, a poor district of Cairo, in May, with twelve killed and over 300 injured; and one in a village in Aswan province in September. The context behind each incident remained familiar. In the first, a rumour about a relationship between a Coptic man and Muslim woman in the village was considered to trigger the violence. In the second, a rumour that the church was holding a woman who converted to Islam led to a mob attacking the presumed church as well as a nearby one. Finally, the legality of renovation work on the Aswan church was doubted. In response, the military rulers condemned the violence and instructed the Army to rebuild some of the churches. Many Muslims also stressed their commitment to national unity. However, the incidents showed that the underlying societal tensions had not disappeared with the Mubarak regime. Indeed, there

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is Coptic concern about the tolerance of Egyptian society, given the resounding victory of Islamist parties in the parliamentary election in 2011. The Muslim Brotherhood-affiliated Freedom and Justice Party (FJP) obtained 216 seats (43.4 per cent), while the Islamist Alliance (salafist) received 125 seats (25 per cent).41 While members of the FJP and some salafist leaders have openly acknowledged the role of Copts as Egyptian citizens, some of the rhetoric from other individuals has raised concern.42 Thus, some Copts are still hopeful of the opportunities presented by the revolution, but others are wary of any deterioration in their public status. Reflecting concern at the increase in communal clashes, a second political option would be to continue the protest activism unleashed by the uprising but direct this towards resolving Coptic anxieties. This activist trend was already apparent in the 2000s within the Coptic youth, as incidents such as the Constantine and Shetata cases led to protests in the patriarchate grounds.43 The deterioration of the security situation in the last year of the Mubarak regime saw occasional protests after incidents, such as clashes between Copts and riot police over the disputed construction of a church in al-Omranya, Giza in November 2010, leading to the arrest of 120 people, and the Alexandria bombings in January 2011.44 This recourse to protest has intensified since the uprising. The protestors continue to campaign on the same pre-revolutionary issues – equality and security – and, in some cases, are joined by Muslims sympathetic to their cause. For example, after the church attack in March, a protest against the state response was held in Cairo, which resulted in the deaths of 13 and 140 injured.45 Similarly, a Cairo march was organised to publicise the church incident in Aswan. While the precise details are disputed, the march has gained notoriety as on arrival at its destination, Maspero, the state television centre, a stand-off between the Army and protestors led to the death of over twenty protestors.46 This incident has severely damaged relations between Copts and the military rulers, and led to national condemnation. Several organisations including the Maspero Youth Union have been formed and use sit-ins, marches and social media to publicise their demands.47 While this activist approach ensures continuing publicity for their concerns, the emphasis tends to be on their rights as Christians rather than as Egyptian citizens. Given their numerical minority, Copts will need to have wider support in Egyptian society, in order to progress towards their political and social demands. There is a danger that they will be dismissed as troublemakers and this could adversely affect majority opinion on the community. Several prominent Egyptian political actors have blamed the increase in violence on foreign conspiracies. The Coptic community has prior experience of being accused of collaborating with foreign powers, most notably by Sadat in 1980, but also more subtly during the 1990s, as a consequence of diaspora lobbying against what they described the persecution of Copts.48 Given the threat this activism poses to the status quo of communal relations, especially the privileged position of the Church, it is unsurprising that the Patriarch called on protestors to halt their sit-ins and work within the political system.

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He also warned against appealing to external powers, particularly in the aftermath of Maspero.49 Maintaining control of the entire community is crucial to the Patriarch’s ability to act as political spokesman. Yet, it is clear that there is resistance to this approach amongst these activists. For example, protests occurred in the patriarchate against Shenouda’s decision to invite members of the ruling military council, as well as salafist leaders, to the Christmas service in 2011, given the recent Maspero incidents, and concern at defamatory statements from some individuals in the salafi movements.50 Furthermore, some lower-level clergy have also been involved in this activism, illustrating that the church hierarchy is struggling to assert its authority on both its clergy and lay members. While proclaiming their loyalty to the Patriarch and the Coptic Orthodox Church, the activists are also adamant that the traditional approach of private lobbying by the church hierarchy to state authorities achieved little during the Mubarak era, and that a new method is required. It is apparent that the political role of the Coptic Orthodox Church will change as a consequence of the uprising. Relationships will need to be constructed with new political leaders. The strength of the Patriarch’s position in the neo-millet system was his ability to deliver the majority of his community. The new discourse of citizenship, coupled with Coptic activism, threatens to expose the political differences within the community. More significantly for the Patriarch, other communal actors have the opportunity to build support and constrain his political role. Yet, several scholars such as McCallum, Rowe and Tadros, have highlighted the ability of the church leadership to adapt to changing circumstances. Furthermore, the Church remains in a strong position to recover its temporal authority if these other options do not meet the expectations of their proponents, and more importantly, the wider Coptic community. The increased visibility of salafists and their electoral success, also raises the possibility of increased Islamisation of the state. While this is certainly not supported by the church hierarchy, if emphasis was placed on religious rather than national identity, its historical experience suggests that it has the capacity to act as liaison between the community and rulers. Lastly, because of the personalised nature of his leadership, this discussion has focused heavily on Shenouda. The death of this long-serving patriarch in March 2012 left a leadership vacuum within the community until the election of Pope Tawadros II in November 2011.51 Regardless of whether the new patriarch will reopen some of the debates discussed above or continue with Shenouda’s policies, it is evident that this change in leadership will add to the ongoing changes within both the community and country.

Inter-religious dialogue The Coptic Orthodox Church has two arenas regarding inter-religious dialogue – international and national. The Church perceives itself as a global institution and has sought involvement in ecumenical activities. Patriarch Shenouda was elected as one of the presidents of the World Council of

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Churches (WCC) for the period governed by the seventh assembly (1991–8) and has been a constant presence in the Middle East Council of Churches (MECC). The Church enjoys especially strong ties with the other Oriental Orthodox and holds frequent meetings to agree common theological positions, especially in relation to dialogue with the Vatican. Relations with the Vatican improved dramatically after the joint Christological statement released in 1973, and regular conferences are held, again focusing mostly upon theological discussions. The Patriarch has also visited several leaders of Orthodox churches, and a joint commission was established to further dialogue.52 In contrast, there is one church that has been mostly excluded from direct ecumenical relations – the Assyrian Church of the East. Historical theological differences were cited as the reason for the Coptic Orthodox Church role in securing the rejection of the former’s attempts to join MECC.53 At the domestic level, the different Christian denominations tend to liaise on their positions regarding legislative issues. Thanks to its numerical advantage, the Coptic Orthodox Church tends to be dominant in these negotiations. Its attitude is also informed by the prevailing view within the Church that it is the Egyptian national church and that almost all Egyptian Christians share its Coptic heritage.54 One legislative issue discussed is a unified draft law on places of worship. This option has been proposed as a solution to the recurring church building issue, since a government commissioned report after an attack on a building being used for church services in Khanka in 1972.55 This idea has periodically resurfaced, usually in the aftermath of communal violence. Although several bills have been presented to Parliament, particularly from 2005 onwards, it was not until the 2011 uprising that conditions were seen as conducive to addressing this legislation. In June 2011, the cabinet presented a draft law for evaluation by religious leaders. The Christian denominations agreed to establish a commission to review the document, given their reservations concerning some articles. These include requirements of 1,000 metres distance between churches, minimum size of 1,000 square metres, taking into account the population of the surrounding area, the issuing of licences by governors, rather than at the municipality level, and penalties for violation of these rules. Furthermore, security officials would still be able to influence the decision.56 Therefore, some have argued that there is little difference from existing laws, apart from the fact that the new legislation would cover mosques, thus eliminating the discriminatory nature of the current system. While the consensus of the churches allowed them to propose some amendments which are currently being debated within the cabinet, it is possible that these proposals would still have been considered if they came solely from the Coptic Orthodox Church. Even so, the Islamist success in the elections has led some commentators to suggest that the draft law is unlikely to be passed by Parliament, thus serving as an early test for the citizenship approach mentioned in the previous section.57 The second legislative issue which has led to joint deliberation from the churches is the proposed Unified Personal Status Law. This process was

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initially presented to Parliament in 1978, but was shelved until it was mentioned again in 1998.58 At this point, Shenouda updated the draft to reflect the change in Coptic Orthodox policy. The passing of a unified law would prevent Christians seeking a divorce from converting to another denomination, in order to be under sharia regulations, thus increasing the likelihood of conversion to Islam for the same reason. However, consensus has been more difficult to obtain, as some denominations such as the Anglicans have raised concerns about discrimination against women, and others have been excluded from the discussion, which has been held under the auspices of the Coptic Orthodox Church.59 At present, the issue seems to have been deferred once more, but it indicates the difficulties in obtaining consensus, especially when one church has the ability to steer the debate towards its own view. Given its environment, Coptic Orthodox inter-religious dialogue focuses primarily on Islam and tends to occur at the national level. Under the Mubarak regime, these relations tended to be institutionalised through the patriarch and the Grand Imam of al-Azhar (the oldest university in the Islamic world). These religious leaders were perceived as representing their respective communities and would attend conferences and national events. Unlike the ecumenical dialogue described above, these meetings tend to focus on shared views such as national unity, rather than addressing religious differences or misunderstandings, which can be at the core of communal clashes. Joint statements condemning violence have been issued after notable incidents such as al-Kush in 2000 and Alexandria in 2005.60 In the post-Mubarak era, relations between the Coptic Orthodox Church and al-Azhar have continued to develop. Indeed, in January 2012, al-Azhar released a bill of basic freedoms and rights to publicise principles which it proposed should be incorporated into the new Constitution. The document emphasised that religious beliefs and practices of the Abrahamic faiths should be respected in order to preserve national unity and security. In front of attendees including the meeting’s host, the Grand Imam, as well as the Prime Minister, and religious and political figures related to both the Muslim Brotherhood and salafi traditions, Patriarch Shenouda welcomed the document and praised the ideals behind it.61 Showing awareness of the changing situation, Shenouda also expressed willingness to build relations with other Islamic actors beyond state-sanctioned officials.62 Again, this would appear indicative of Shenouda’s perception of his liaison role between political leaders and his community, and the need to develop ties with all actors, regardless of their political view. At the societal level, the Church has established a new tradition of holding interfaith iftars (the meal that breaks the Muslim fast during the holy month of Ramadan) at all levels (patriarchate, dioceses and individual churches), and clerics are frequently invited to other events, including the annual National Unity iftar banquet hosted by the Ministry of Religious Endowments. These events help develop personal relations, which can assist in preventing the escalation of incidents, but do not address the underlying causes of tension.

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A global church While its Egyptian identity remains central to the Coptic Orthodox Church, the latter half of the twentieth century has witnessed a growth in its global presence. Ties outside Egypt were traditionally linked to either Coptic Orthodox churches located elsewhere in the Middle East or else the Ethiopian and Eritrean Orthodox churches, which have historic relations with the Coptic Orthodox.63 The nationalisation policies of the Nasser regime instigated a wave of Coptic emigration, which has steadily continued over the decades. While Muslims were also affected, the size of the Coptic community in Egypt means that some perceive Coptic emigration as an existential threat to their presence in Egypt. Although the Coptic Orthodox Church strongly rejects emigration as a solution to Coptic concerns, it has simultaneously taken the position that it should minister to its congregations regardless of location. Starting from sending individual priests to lead these new communities in the mid-1960s, the Coptic Orthodox Church now has several overseas dioceses with numerous churches in each. While much of this activity is concentrated in North America, Europe and Australia, there has also been expansion in Latin America and Africa.64 In order to maintain cohesion within this global community, two focal points have been established. Unsurprisingly, the first is the role of the patriarch as ‘father’ of the entire community. Regular patriarchal visits, including an annual trip to North America, allow emigrant communities to participate in church events and foster a sense of belonging as part of a united Coptic Orthodox Church. Information communication technology is also utilised to include members from beyond Egypt, including the Coptic Orthodox Patriarchate website and an English version of al-Keraza, the official church magazine.65 The second symbol of unity is the role played by Egypt, the spiritual homeland for Copts. Most adherents to the Coptic Orthodox faith do have direct family links to Egypt but the Church seeks to strengthen these connections through organised trips to Egypt, language classes and assisting social service provision in Egypt. These efforts to stress the commonality of the Church irrespective of the location of its adherents have also led to the rejection of the term ‘diaspora’ as a label for adherents outside of Egypt as it is perceived as portraying them as different from the core group located in Egypt. Instead, the Church prefers the term ‘lands of immigration’, which emphasises only the territorial difference.66 In reality, difficulties do exist between the centralised Church in Egypt and its congregations further afield, particularly over the appointment of clergy, but in general, the church policy of unity has been successful in developing a global identity and maintaining internal cohesion within the Church. However, beyond the spiritual sphere, the global presence of the Coptic community has led to challenges to the political leadership of the Coptic Orthodox Church. Diaspora lobby groups are particularly active in North America and have launched campaigns to protect Coptic rights. Their interpretation of the Coptic concerns outlined in earlier sections tends to perceive

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these as human rights violations and holds the Egyptian government responsible, whether directly or indirectly, for these acts. Consequently, through lobbying politicians and running publicity campaigns, the objective of several of these groups has been to pressurise Western governments, especially the USA, to make funding conditional on an improvement to the Coptic situation. There has been little impact on Western government policies and the campaigners are generally perceived both in the West and Egypt as being a minority within the Coptic expatriate community, although a vociferous one.67 Yet during the Mubarak era, their attempts to highlight the need to protect Coptic rights have been considered by some Copts in Egypt as actually damaging their position because criticism of the regime abroad raises doubts about their loyalty to the state. According to van Doorn-Harder, some ‘feel exposed to risk by those who have forgotten that the Egyptian political climate is not free’.68 Consequently, the church leadership has been placed in a difficult situation by these organisations, as the desire to minister to all Copts including emigrant communities conflicts with the aim of protecting those in Egypt. Patriarch Shenouda attempted to resolve this dilemma by publicly distancing himself from any foreign intervention such as the US International Religious Freedom Commission delegations, proclaiming that such activists were a small minority who were also critical of the Church and urging emigrants to present a positive image of Egypt while abroad. Yet, action is rarely taken against clergy or laity who cooperate with or join these organisations, thus conforming with the notion that the Patriarch should be above political differences. The financial contributions from the diaspora as well as the importance of having channels to publicise any deterioration of the Coptic situation are also significant factors in determining this ambiguous policy. Therefore, the significant threat of emigration has been handled in a way that has proved advantageous to the Church as it develops a global presence but has also added a further challenge to the Church’s attempt to retain political primacy within the community, one which is likely to remain relevant in the post-Mubarak period.

Conclusion This analysis of the Coptic Orthodox Church has highlighted the significance of its self-portrayal as Egypt’s national church. This categorisation impacts upon its understanding of the role of the community in Egypt, its choice of political concerns and its behaviour towards other national religious actors. The highly personalised nature of church leadership under Patriarch Shenouda has also significantly influenced the political role of the Church. While the Church has positioned itself as the protector of the Coptic community, its interests do not always coincide with all of the community it claims to represent. Patriarchal intervention tends to be confined to incidents which directly affect the Coptic faith or the security of the community. It also conforms to a traditional understanding of the church role within a

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‘neo-millet’ system, where the Church enjoys a privileged relationship with the state and can use this influence selectively to lobby on particular issues. This dominance is under pressure from a combination of the citizenship discourse unleashed during the 2011 uprising, increased Coptic activism demanding equal rights and the election of a new patriarch after the death of Patriarch Shenouda in March 2012. These developments could potentially lead to a decline in patriarchal temporal authority. While the political role of the Coptic Orthodox Church would appear to be in flux, as indeed is the Egyptian political environment, its reliance on its religious heritage places it in a strong position to adapt to these changes without completely losing its political influence.

Appendix 1

Religious leaders

• •

Pope Shenouda III (Nazir Gayed) (1923–2012), in office 1971–2012 Pope Tawadros II (Waguih Sobhy Baqi Soliman) (1952–), in office 2012–.

2

Biography

Title: Coptic Orthodox Patriarch of Alexandria and All Africa of the See of St Mark. Patriarch Tawadros II was born Waguih Sobhy Baqi Soliman on 4 November 1952. He studied pharmacy at Alexandria University and became a manager at a pharmaceutical company. In 1988, he entered monastic life, and in 1997, he was selected to be a general bishop. He was consecrated as Patriarch on 18 November 2012. He has written several books on the Coptic faith and is synonymous with the establishment of prayer meetings for specific groups which has become a church-wide practice.69 3

Theological publications70

• •

El-Keraza [Evangelism] El Keraza English.

4

Congregations

Structure of the Church: 10 metropolitanates, 85 bishoprics, 39 local eparchies and 13 eparchies in the diaspora.71 As well as the See of Alexandria, the most important metropolitanates are Damietta, Jerusalem and Assiut. Number of clergy and church buildings: Number of churches estimated to be over 1,300; 32 monasteries; 1,500 monks and nuns.72

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The ‘numbers’ debate regarding the Coptic presence in Egypt is notorious. There is general consensus that the Muslim population is over 90 per cent. Government figures estimate around 6 per cent, but they do not release the breakdown of religious identity, although other statistics such as gender, urbanisation, education and age are provided.73 The Coptic Orthodox Church estimates over 10 per cent and expatriate groups suggest inflated figures of 15–20 per cent.74 Scholars have argued that a smaller birth rate amongst Copts than Muslims, combined with the generational impact of conversion and emigration, would place the community at around 5 per cent.75 The 2006 Egyptian census gave the total Egyptian population as 76,500,000, thus suggesting that 4–5 million are Copts.76 Over 90 per cent of the Coptic community are members of the Coptic Orthodox Church, with the remainder belonging mostly to the Coptic Catholic Church and several Protestant denominations. There are also small communities of other Eastern Christian churches.

Notes 1 Robeir al-Faris, ‘The number that brings on a headache’, Watani International, 14 January 2012, http://www.wataninet.com/24358 (accessed 10 January 2013). 2 Theodore Hall Partrick, Traditional Egyptian Christianity: A History of the Coptic Orthodox Church, Greensboro, NJ: Fisher Park Press, 1996, p. 21. 3 Aziz S. Atiya, A History of Eastern Christianity, London: Methuen, 1991, p. 16. 4 Fiona McCallum, Christian Religious Leadership in the Middle East: The Political Role of the Patriarch, Lewiston, NY: Edwin Mellen Press, 2010, p. 35. 5 Rachel Scott, The Challenge of Political Islam: Non-Muslims and the Egyptian State, Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 2010, p. 16. 6 Bruce Masters, Christians and Jews in the Ottoman Arab World: The Roots of Sectarianism, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2001, p. 63. 7 Atiya, A History of Eastern Christianity, pp. 82–4. 8 Andrea Pacini (ed.), Christian Communities in the Arab Middle East: The Challenge of the Future, Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1998, p. 5. 9 McCallum, Christian Religious Leadership, p. 53. 10 Paul S. Rowe, ‘Neo-millet Systems and Transnational Religious Movements: The Humayun Decrees and Church Construction in Egypt’, Journal of Church and State, 2007, 49, p. 331. 11 Paul S. Rowe, ‘The Sheep and the Goats? Christian Groups in Lebanon and Egypt in Comparative Perspective’, in Nationalism and Minority Identities in Islamic Societies, Maya Shatzmiller (ed.), London: McGill-Queen’s University Press, 2005, pp. 89–94. 12 Dina el Khawaga, ‘Political Dynamics of the Copts: Giving the Community an Active Role’, in Christian Communities in the Arab Middle East, Pacini (ed.), pp. 186–8. 13 McCallum, Christian Religious Leadership, pp. 133–6. 14 Patriarch Shenouda III was born Nazir Gayed in Assiut, Upper Egypt on 3 August 1923. He was a leading figure in the influential Sunday school movement which sought to revive the Coptic Orthodox Church. He studied history at Cairo University and then joined the Coptic Orthodox seminary. Upon graduation, he became a faculty member of the seminary. In 1954, he entered monastic life, and

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15 16 17 18

19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38

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in 1962, was appointed to the new position of general bishop as Bishop of Higher Theological Studies. In the same year, he was appointed dean of the Theological Seminary and editor-in-chief of al-Keraza, the church magazine. He was consecrated as the 117th Patriarch of Alexandria and All Africa on 14 November 1971. He authored over a hundred books and many have been translated into European languages. His reign as patriarch lasted over forty years until his death on 17 March 2012. McCallum, Christian Religious Leadership, p. 124. Anthony O’Mahony, ‘The Politics of Religious Renewal: Coptic Christianity in Egypt’, in Eastern Christianity: Studies in Modern History, Religion and Politics, Anthony O’Mahony (ed.), London: Melisende, 2004, p. 148. Mariz Tadros, ‘Vicissitudes in the Entente between the Coptic Orthodox Church and the State in Egypt (1952–2007)’, International Journal of Middle East Studies, 2009, 41, pp. 274–5. Fiona McCallum, ‘Muslim–Christian Relations in Egypt: Challenges for the Twenty-First Century’, in Christian Responses to Islam: Muslim–Christian Relations in the Modern World, Anthony O’Mahony and Emma Loosley (eds), Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2008, p. 75. Cornelius Hulsman, ‘Controversy over religious conversion lies at root of tension in Egypt’, Arab West Report 19, 2011, http://arabwestreport.info/node/28911 (accessed 10 January 2013). Heba Helmy, ‘al-Qaeda threats instill fear in Egyptian Christians’, Al Masry al Youm, 4 November 2010, http://www.almasryalyoum.com/node/226850 (accessed 10 January 2013). Laure Guirguis, ‘Discours contemporains autour de la conversion’, Confluences Méditerranée, 2008, 66, p. 131. Scott, The Challenge of Political Islam, p. 174. Nathalie Bernard-Maugiron, ‘Divorce and Remarriage of Orthodox Copts in Egypt: The 2008 State Council Ruling and the Amendment of the 1938 Personal Status Regulations’, Islamic Law and Society, 2011, 18, p. 364. Adel Guindy, ‘Family Status Issues among Egypt’s Copts: A Brief Overview’, Middle East Review of International Affairs, 2007, 11, http://www.gloria-center. org/2007/09/guindy-2007-09-01/ (accessed 10 January 2013). Bernard-Maugiron, ‘Divorce and Remarriage’, pp. 364–5. ‘Egypt courts halt Copt remarriage ruling for now’, Jordan Times, 8 July 2010, http://www.jordantimes.com (accessed 10 January 2013). Rasha Sadek, ‘Final exit and last resort’, al-Ahram Weekly, 21 September 2011, http://weekly.ahram.org.eg/2011/1064/eg16.htm (accessed 10 January 2013). Bernard-Maugiron, ‘Divorce and Remarriage’, p. 376. Guirguis, ‘Discours contemporains’, pp. 132–3. O’Mahony, ‘The Politics of Religious Renewal’, pp. 157–8. McCallum, Christian Religious Leadership, p. 141. Rowe, ‘Neo-millet Systems’, p. 348. McCallum, Christian Religious Leadership, pp. 99–102. Andrea Zaki Stephanous, Political Islam, Citizenship, and Minorities: The Future of Arab Christians in the Islamic Middle East, Lanham, MD: University Press of America, 2010, pp. 130–1. Scott, The Challenge of Political Islam, p. 74. McCallum, Christian Religious Leadership, p. 141. ‘Pope Shenoda III talks to Watani’, Watani International, 2 December 2007, http:// www.wataninet.com/printer.asp?articleid+=16621 (accessed 10 January 2013). Elizabeth Iskander, ‘The “Mediation” of Muslim–Christian Relations in Egypt: The Strategies and Discourses of the Official Egyptian Press during Mubarak’s Presidency’, Islam and Christian–Muslim Relations, 2012, 23, p. 35.

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39 ‘Guide to Egypt’s transition: results of Egypt’s People’s Assembly Election’, Carnegie Endowment for International Peace, 25 January 2012, http://egyptelections.carnegieendowment.org/2012/01/25/results-of-egypt%E2%80%99speople%E2%80%99s-assembly-elections (accessed 10 January 2013). 40 ‘Pope urges Copts to vote for best candidates, disregard affiliation’, al-Masry alYoum, 28 November 2011, http://www.almasryalyoum.com/node/522571 (accessed 10 January 2013). 41 ‘Guide to Egypt’s transition’. 42 Yasmine Fathi, ‘Egypt Copts react to Islamist electoral win’, Ahram Online, 4 December 2011, http://english.ahram.org.eg/NewsContent/1/64/28346/Egypt/ Politics-/Egypt-copts-react-to-Islamist-electoral-win.aspx (accessed 10 January 2013). 43 McCallum, Christian Religious Leadership, pp. 149–50. 44 ‘Protest against Omranya arrests’, Egypt Independent, 25 November 2010, http:// www.egyptindependent.com/node/256775 (accessed 10 January 2013). 45 ‘Ten dead after Copt-Muslim clash in Cairo’, BBC, 9 March 2011, http://www.bbc. co.uk/news/world-middle-east-12683568 (accessed 10 January 2013). 46 ‘Egypt clashes: Military calls for swift unrest probe’, BBC, 10 October 2011, http:// www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-middle-east-15242413 (accessed 10 January 2013). 47 Nadine Marroushi, ‘Egypt’s Copts voice fear and optimism’, Daily Star, 6 January 2012, http://www.dailystar.com.lb/id=159029 (accessed 10 January 2013). 48 Iskandar, ‘The “Mediation” of Muslim–Christian Relations’, p. 41. 49 Dina Ezzat, ‘Equality matters’, al-Ahram Weekly, 27 October 2011, http://weekly. ahram.org.eg/2011/1070/eg2.htm (accessed 10 January 2013). 50 ‘Copts protest Church’s Christmas invitation to SCAF and Islamists’, Ahram Online, 30 December 2011, htttp://english.ahram.org/NewsContentPrint/1/0/30559 (accessed 10 January 2013). 51 For details of the election and new patriarch, see reports published in Watani International, http://www.wataninet.com (accessed 10 January 2013). 52 Fiona McCallum, ‘Desert Roots and Global Branches: The Journey of the Coptic Orthodox Church’, Bulletin of the Royal Institute for Inter-Faith Studies, 2005, 7, p. 86. 53 John Watson, ‘Christianity in the Middle East’, in World Christianity: Politics, Theology, Dialogues, Anthony O’Mahony and Michael Kirwan (eds), London: Melisende, 2004, p. 217. 54 McCallum, ‘Desert Roots and Global Branches’, p. 86. 55 Tadros, ‘Vicissitudes in the Entente’, p. 273. 56 ‘The view from the other side’, Watani International, 19 June 2011, http://www. wataninet.com/print.aspx?A=32968 (accessed 10 January 2013). 57 Nader Shukry, ‘The fate of churches’, Watani International, 30 January 2012, http://www.wataninet.com.watani_Article_Details.aspx?A=24678 (accessed 10 January 2013). 58 Guindy, ‘Family Status Issues’. 59 Bernard-Maugiron, ‘Divorce and Remarriage’, pp. 383–4. 60 McCallum, ‘Muslim–Christian Relations’, p. 80. 61 Robeir al-Faris, ‘Freedoms endorsed’, Watani International, 20 January 2012, http://www.wataninet/com/watani_Article_Details.aspx?A=24479 (accessed 10 January 2013). 62 ‘Shenouda proposes dialogue with Islamists following elections’, al-Masry alYoum, 5 January 2012, http://www.almasryalyoum.com/node/586246 (accessed 10 January 2013). 63 Otto F. Meinardus, Two Thousand Years of Coptic Christianity, Cairo: American University in Cairo Press, 1999, p. 134.

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64 McCallum, ‘Desert Roots and Global Branches’, p. 88. 65 See Coptic Orthodox Patriarchate, www.copticpope.org (accessed 10 January 2013). 66 McCallum, Christian Religious Leadership, p. 201. 67 Ibid., pp. 203–4. 68 Pieternella van Doorn-Harder, ‘Copts: Fully Egyptian, but for a Tattoo?’, in Nationalism and Minority Identities, Shatzmiller (ed.), p. 47. 69 Victor Salama and Mariam Rifaat, ‘Who is the Pope Anba Tawadros II?’, Watani International, 5 November 2012, http://www.wataninet.com/watani_Article_ Details.aspx?A=32968 (accessed 10 January 2013). 70 The Church has a Patriarchal Press (Anba Ruais) which publishes books and bulletins of the patriarchate. In addition, the Church has a television channel, St Mark. 71 Data gathered by the author from church-affiliated websites and church officials. 72 Data gathered by the author from Church officials. The exact number of priests is not released for security reasons. 73 See Egypt State Information Service, ‘Population’, www.sis.gov.eg/Story.aspx?id=9 (accessed 10 January 2013). 74 McCallum, ‘Desert Roots and Global Branches’, p. 70. 75 See Youssef Courbage and Phillipe Fargues, Christians and Jews under Islam, London: IB Tauris, 1997. 76 Programme on Governance in the Arab Region, ‘Egypt’, www.pogar.org/countries/country.aspx?cid=5 (accessed 10 January 2013).

28 The Syrian Orthodox Church Erica C. D. Hunter

With the break-up of the Ottoman Empire, a new map largely replaced the centuries-old demography of the Syrian Orthodox and the Syrian Catholic communities in southeast Turkey. Many people went to the newly formed Iraq, others went to Palestine, Lebanon and Syria. However, following the creation of the state of Israel in 1948, Syrian Orthodox and Syrian Catholic communities living in Palestine, principally in Jerusalem and Bethlehem, were forced to flee their homes. The June War of 1967, as well as the First and Second Intifadas, also caused many of the Syrian Orthodox who had settled in Israel and the West bank to relocate once again. Many people also fled the Civil War in Lebanon (1975–90). More recently, the two Gulf Wars, the Sanctions period and the bloody aftermath of the 2003 Allied invasion in Iraq have resulted in a haemorrhaging of the communities. Large numbers have left for Syria and the Western diaspora that is well established in Europe, Australia and North America. In Syria, Syrian Orthodox and Syrian Catholic refugees have swelled the congregations at Hassake in Syria; others have settled in Aleppo and Damascus. The very insecure future in Syria that has arisen threatens these new arrivals, possibly continuing the pattern of displacement that the Syrian Orthodox and the Syrian Catholic churches have experienced for more than a century. Many Christians believe that ‘they want to force us to emigrate, like in Iraq. To empty the region of Christians.’1

The Syrian Orthodox in Turkey The massacres of 1895–1915 depleted the Syrian Orthodox communities in the Ottoman Empire. An estimated one third of the Syrian Orthodox were wiped out in 1915, known as ‘the year of the Sword’ (Sayfo), with eight of the twenty dioceses falling into abeyance. Large numbers of displaced persons relocated from Mardin, Midyat and Diarbekir to other parts of the Middle East, particularly to Iraq, Syria, Lebanon and Palestine. Further erosion of the communities in the Tur ‘Abdin region of Turkey came during the 1960s. An agreement reached in 1961 between the West German and Turkish governments permitting Turks to go to Germany to work as Gastarbeiter

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(guest-workers) enticed many young men to leave. This trend was exacerbated, not only by the lure of improved economic prospects, but from the threats to traditional livelihoods such as farming as a result of the escalation of Kurdish activities in the region. In the 1960s and 1970s insurgency was a major factor that forced many families to leave, since Syrian Orthodox villages were sandwiched between the conflict that took place between the Turkish Army and the Kurdish PKK fighters.2 The refugees went to Istanbul, before travelling on to European destinations, mainly the Netherlands and Sweden, as well as Germany. As some families never left Istanbul the community grew to such a size that a Patriarchal Vicariate was created in 1986.3 A ceasefire with the Kurds was declared in 1999, but as Sebastian Brock reports: In the early 1990s the situation in the Tur ‘Abdin had actually become even worse, due to the activities of Islamic extremists who targeted leading figures in Syrian Orthodox villages, as a way of instilling fear in the community, the aim being to get people to leave.4 Several leading figures in the Syrian Orthodox community were murdered, but the perpetrators have never been brought to justice. In recent years, the Syrian Orthodox communities in the Tur ‘Abdin have experienced some alleviation of their circumstances; this may be in response to Turkey being notified of its possible entry into the European Economic Union. The most recent initiatives by the Turkish government have included the establishment of a Chair of Syriac Studies at the newly constituted Mardin Artuklu Üniversitesi. The university hosted a conference (20–21 April 2012) that was specifically devoted to Syriac language and historical studies, attracting large numbers of foreign and Turkish scholars. Finance from the European Union and the expatriate communities has seen the physical restoration of some churches and ancient monasteries in the Tur ‘Abdin. The fourth-century foundations of St Gabriel (Mor Gabriel), near Midyat, and Deir al-Zafaran (the Saffron Monastery), near Mardin, which are both constructed of honey-coloured stone, have been extensively refurbished, as has the ancient Church of the Virgin Mary (Meryam Ana Kilise) in Diyarbekir, which is built of black basalt. However, the judgment by the Supreme Court of Ankara in 2012 against the Monastery of Mor Gabriel threatens to remove considerable swathes of agricultural land that has been under its jurisdiction for centuries.

The Syrian Orthodox diaspora The majority of the Syrian Orthodox no longer inhabit the villages in the Tur ‘Abdin that their families once occupied for centuries. Instead they have settled in diaspora communities. An estimated 150,000 persons are resident in Europe with the largest concentrations being in Germany, followed by Sweden

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and the Netherlands. There are smaller numbers in Belgium, Switzerland, Austria and Britain, where the majority of the Syrian Orthodox live in or near London, with a particular concentration in Ealing.5 The first members of the Syrian Orthodox Church arrived in England in the 1960s; in these early days, the community in London met for prayers in private homes, but later as numbers grew shared various churches in London with other Miaphysite denominations: the Armenian Orthodox church in Kensington and St Mark’s Coptic Orthodox church, also in Kensington. From 1999, the Syrian Orthodox Church used St Andrew’s Anglican church in Fulham for worship and also for pastoral and parish functions before they were able to acquire and build their own church. The need for a church became a desideratum when the numbers of parishioners escalated after 2003. Approximately 65 per cent of the Syrian Orthodox congregation consisted of refugees from Iraq – a consequence of the Allied invasion. After a vigorous fund-raising programme, the community has realised an important stage in its development, by purchasing a property and building a church as well as a community centre. The fruition of these plans has given the community a new focus, enabling congregations to meet and share memories, helping to alleviate homesickness and isolation, particularly amongst the older members of families who have recently arrived from war-torn Iraq and Syria. Youth club activities enable young people to participate in social and sporting events, providing tuition in the rich cultural and religious heritage of the Syrian Orthodox Church, and also giving them the opportunity to learn Toroyo, the Syriac dialect of the Tur ‘Abdin. Such opportunities are invaluable for younger members of the community, many of whom have either been born in the United Kingdom or arrived at a very early age. The Syrian Orthodox cathedral in London was consecrated on 3 July 2010 by the Syrian Orthodox Patriarch, His Holiness Mor Ignatius Zakka I Iwass. Relics of St Thomas were brought from Mosul for the occasion. Flanked by a large retinue of Syrian Orthodox metropolitans and clergy, Patriarch Zakka was borne into the cathedral on his throne. This truly ecumenical occasion saw the presence of Archbishop Gregorios of Thyateira (Ecumenical Patriarchate), Metropolitan John of Western and Central Europe (Greek Orthodox Patriarchate of Antioch), the Archbishop of Westminster (Monsignor Vincent Nichols) and the Bishop of Gibraltar in Europe (Right Reverend Geoffrey Rowell). The Oriental Orthodox clergy included Archbishop Antonios (Ethiopian Tewahido Orthodox Church), Metropolitan Seraphim (Coptic Orthodox Church), as well as priests from the Coptic, Ethiopian, Eritrean, Armenian and Malankara churches.6 With the church packed to overflowing, the service was relayed on closed circuit screens in the downstairs hall. Queen Elizabeth II sent a congratulatory message as did Dr Rowan Williams, the then Archbishop of Canterbury. The celebrations cemented many years of hard work and vision to provide a secure base for the Syrian Orthodox in London.

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The strategic position assumed by the United Kingdom, and particularly London, in the Syrian Orthodox diaspora was already intimated with the ordination of Mor Athanasius Touma Dakkama as metropolitan on 3 December 2006 by Mor Ignatius Zakka I Iwass at St Peter’s and St Paul’s Patriarchal Cathedral of the St Aphrem the Syrian Monastery at Ma’arrat Seydnaya, north of Damascus. A glittering array of bishops from the Middle East and India attended and assisted in the consecration ceremony: Mor Severius Jamil Hawa of Bagdad, Mor Gregorios Shemoun Saleeba of Mosul, Mor Theophilos George Saleeba of Mount Lebanon, Mor Eustathius Matta Roham of Jazirah and Euphrates, Mor Severius Malke Mourad of Jordan and Jerusalem, Mor Selwanos Pathros Nehmeh of Homs and Hama, Mor Athanasius Geevargis the Patriarchal Vicar for Indian Affairs, Mor Athanasius Elia Bahi the Patriarchal Assistant and Mor Themotheos Mousa Al Shamani of Mor Matta Monastery, Iraq.7 The elevation of Mor Athanasius has thus placed the Syriac Orthodox diocese in the United Kingdom on par with other archdioceses in Central Europe and the Benelux countries and the two archdioceses in Scandinavia, where the main congregation is located at Södertälje. The European diaspora now supports some 60 churches and has 125 priests.8 Three archdioceses serve the large Syrian Orthodox communities resident in the USA and there is also an archdiocese of Canada.

Syrian Orthodox monasticism The foundation of monasteries in Europe and the United Kingdom continues their prominent role in the ancient heritage of Syrian Orthodox Church. Throughout the medieval period, hundreds of monasteries were dotted throughout the northern Mesopotamian landscape but over the centuries many have been destroyed, most recently during the vicissitudes of 1895–1914. As a consequence, only a handful of monasteries are still operational and, with the exception of Mor Mattai Monastery, are located in the Tur ‘Abdin region of southeast Turkey. Two renowned monasteries that have recently undergone physical restoration are: Deir al-Zafaran (the Saffron Monastery) near Mardin, which was the seat of the Patriarchate until 1933, and Mor Gabriel (St Gabriel’s Monastery) at Midyat. Founded in 397, Mor Gabriel is one of the most ancient continually functioning monasteries in the world but, despite its venerable age, even today is not above threat. Mor Gabriel has been at the centre of an ongoing land dispute with the Turkish government and surrounding villages, signalling the acquisition of lands that have for many centuries been under monastic jurisdiction. In 2004, the Turkish government initiated its survey of the monastery’s land in order to ascertain its value and ownership for taxation purposes. The surrounding villages attempted to occupy some of the lands in 2005, but this was halted, under intense international pressure and the support of the Turkish government. Land registry works recommenced in May 2008 under the auspices of the Midyat Cadastre Directorate to determine the boundaries

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between the monastery and the surrounding villages, notably Yayvantepe (Qartmin) and Eðlence (Zinol). One hundred and ten hectares of land were to be granted to the villagers. The Kurdish villagers, in many cases with the support of the local tribe leaders (aghas), reoccupied the lands.9 St Gabriel’s Monastery disputed the decision at the Turkish Land Registration Court, but lost the case. It then successfully appealed the decision at the local Midyat Court in May 2009. Based on evidence, principally land title and tax documents, the monastery argued rightful ownership, against the claims of the villages, which upped their original claim by an additional 190 ha. The Midyat Court decision found that the neighbouring villages of Yayvantepe and Eðlence had no basis on which to argue ownership of some 300 hectares of land. The villages appealed against this decision to the Turkish Supreme Court in Ankara in June 2009, which decided on 13 August 2010 that the Midyat Court did not have the jurisdiction to hear the case in the first instance, thus implementing the 2008 boundary lines that had been drafted by the Midyat Cadastre Directorate.10 The Supreme Court deemed that substantial lands inside and adjacent to the monastery, which it has owned for centuries and upon which it has paid the requisite taxes, belonged to the Turkish Treasury.11 The matter has still not been resolved and the Syrian Orthodox Church is investigating various options, one being an appeal to the European Court of Human Rights in Strasburg. The only Syrian Orthodox monastery in Iraq is that of Mor Mattai (St Matthew), which is situated on the slopes of Mount Alfaf, southeast of Mosul. With foundations dating back to the fifth century, Mor Mattai has a distinguished history, with primacy in 629 over the many other monasteries in northern Mesopotamia. In the late eighth century it had become the most important Syrian Orthodox monastery in Iraq, and its library holdings were particularly renowned. A certain number of manuscripts copied at Mor Mattai still survive, though none is older than the thirteenth century, the earliest being an illustrated Gospel Lectionary in the Vatican Library (Sir. 559).12 Mor Mattai is the burial place of the great West Syrian maphrian and scholar Gregory bar Hebraeus, who died in 1286. For many centuries, the monastery was under the jurisdiction of the Metropolitanate of Tekrit, where there was a sizeable Syrian Orthodox community until recent times. In 1989, Christine Chaillot recorded that only two monks and a bishop were in residence.13 The author was present at celebrations commemorating Mor Matti in September 2013 that were attended by senior clergy, local dignitaries and hundreds of the faithful, some of whom had travelled from the United States of America. In the latter part of the twentieth century, the Syrian Orthodox Church has launched several new monastic initiatives in Syria. A new monastery was built in 1996 in Ma’arrat Seydnaya, north of Damascus, and functions as the residence of the Patriarch, Mor Ignatius Zakka I Iwwas, when he does not occupy his seat in Damascus.14 In 2000, another monastery, dedicated to ‘Mary, Bearer of God’, was consecrated at Tel Wardiyat [Hill of Flowers], west of Hassake.15 The renowned but ruined Monastery of St Simeon Stylites,

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northwest of Aleppo, was registered under the name of the Syrian Orthodox waqf in 1987 with the express intention to rebuild a modern monastery.16 However, this project has not been realised to date, and with the present conflict that is affecting the region, looks most unlikely. Syrian Orthodox monasticism has also taken root in Europe, with three institutions being established. In 1984, the Monastery of St Ephrem in the Netherlands was consecrated. It also became the location of publishing house, Bar Hebraeus Verlag17 – the 1980s heralded a new era of publication when it became possible to print Syriac by computer. Bar Hebraeus Verlag produces a wide range of publications on the Syrian Orthodox Church and culture in Syriac, Dutch and Turkish. In 1999 the Monastery of St Augen was set up in Switzerland, a year later the Monastery of St Jacob of Serugh was inaugurated at Warburg in Germany.18 The Syrian Orthodox community in the United Kingdom is currently searching for a suitable property in the country to develop as a monastic centre. No monasteries have been founded to date in the Americas or Australia.

The Syrian Orthodox in Syria The largest concentration of Syrian Orthodox in the Middle East is now in Syria, where 2.3 million, constituting about 10 per cent of the population, are Christian.19 The Patriarchate of the Syrian Orthodox Church of Antioch is located in Damascus near the St Thomas Gate [Bab Toma], which is the traditional Christian quarter and now houses many refugees. Archdioceses or patriarchal vicariates are found in the major cities of Damascus, Aleppo, Homs and Hassake.20 Large Syrian Orthodox communities are settled in Aleppo and in the northeastern regions of Syria, near the Turkish and Iraqi borders, particularly around the city of Hassake, close to the borders of both Iraq and Turkey, which is the seat of the Syrian Orthodox Metropolitan of al-Hassake and the Jezireh, Mor Eustathius Matta Roham.21 The large Syrian Orthodox community of the Jazirah, with its principal cities of Hassake and Qamishli, owes its origins to the 1915 massacres, when many people fled from their homes in Turkey to Syria. The grandfather of Mor Matta Roham was the only survivor from his village, near Midyat, where all the inhabitants, including women, children and old men, were killed in one day.22 Homs, which became in 1918 the seat of a diocese for both Syria and Lebanon, was until recently home to a large Christian community.23 The heavy shelling of the city early in 2012 has had deleterious effects with an estimated 50,000 persons being forced to leave the city. No services were held for Easter in 2012, demonstrating the gravity of the situation.24 The exodus from Homs is the latest in a series of dislocations that has beset the Syrian Orthodox communities. The situation is further exacerbated by the fact that the numbers of Syrian Orthodox were swollen by the massive influx of Iraqi refugees, who, following the 2003 Allied invasion, hoped to find relief from the ongoing threats and violence they had experienced in Iraq. With little

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or no opportunity for employment or education, the refugees largely survive on aid from the United Nations and various other humanitarian and charitable organisations as well as the hospitality of the local communities and the funds sent back by their families in the diaspora.

The Syrian Orthodox in Lebanon The events of 1915 caused many of the Syrian Orthodox communities in the Tur ‘Abdin to relocate to Lebanon, where they founded communities in Zahlah and Musaytbeh, districts of Beirut. In 1921 Syrian Orthodox refugees from Cilicia also arrived. A diocese for both Syria and Lebanon was established at Homs in Syria in 1918.25 Prior to the outbreak of the Civil War (1975– 90) approximately 65,000 Syrian Orthodox lived in Lebanon, but more than 50 per cent of the community emigrated as a result of the ensuing violence. Many went to Sweden where ‘the Constitution was open to stateless people’.26 Many of the Syrian Orthodox had no passports since their families had fled the Ottoman Empire before the establishment of the Kemalist government of Turkey. The end of the civil war has seen some return of the Syrian Orthodox community to Lebanon. In the past year as a result of the conflict that has engulfed Syria, an increasing number of Christians have fled to Lebanon. Four metropolitans administer the archdioceses of Mount Lebanon, Zahle, Beirut and Benevolent Institutions in Lebanon and finally the Patriarchal Institutions in Lebanon.

The Syrian Orthodox in the Holy Land, Jordan and Egypt In Jerusalem, St Mark’s Monastery serves as the seat of the Syrian Orthodox bishop. Because of the ongoing ‘Palestinian question’, the numbers of faithful resident in the Holy Land has declined dramatically. Christine Chaillot reports that there are now only ‘100 families in Jerusalem and 400 in Bethlehem’.27 With the declaration of the state of Israel in 1948, many Syrian Orthodox families emigrated from the former Palestine to Jordan, where the Church of St Ephrem was built in a suburb of Amman. The community’s numbers have been augmented by the influx of refugees that have flooded in from Iraq, particularly following the 1991 Gulf War. The Syrian Orthodox Church has had a presence in Egypt for many centuries, as indicated by the Deir al-Suriani [Monastery of the Syrians] in the Wadi Natrun. Today there are no longer any functioning Syrian Orthodox monasteries in Egypt, but a priest-monk serves the Syrian Orthodox Church in Cairo.28

The Syrian Orthodox in Iraq The Syrian Orthodox communities of Iraq were traditionally concentrated in the northern parts, especially around Mosul, Tekrit and the neighbouring villages. In the 1960s many people moved south to Baghdad, where the

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bishopric was located. Variously estimated to be between 30,000 and 40,00029 and 50,000 and 70,000,30 the Syrian Orthodox are organised into three episcopal dioceses: Baghdad, Mosul and Deir Mar Matta are under the jurisdiction of Patriarch Ignatius Zakka I Iwwas, who was born in Mosul and educated at the Syrian Orthodox seminary of Mar Ephrem (which opened in 1945) before continuing his education in New York. The largest numbers of Syrian Orthodox were until very recently found in Mosul, which had seven churches, the most ancient being dedicated to St Thomas the Apostle and housing his relics, which were found during renovations. Archaeological activities in the 1980s and 1990s exposed a wealth of churches and substantial Christian cemeteries in Tekrit and its outskirts. Amongst the most notable discoveries was a sarcophagus with a skeleton that bore a fine silver cross with a Syriac inscription in Estrangelo script: ‘Athanasius the Metropolitan, Metropolitan of Tagrith’.31 A legacy of their erstwhile presence remains in the everyday practice of stamping bread with seals in the shape of crosses.32 Basra hosted a Syrian Orthodox community, and in 1959 a parish was also established in Kuwait. However, this has gone into abeyance after the 1990 Gulf War.33

The Syrian Catholic Church Syria and Lebanon developed as strongholds for the Syrian Catholics, possibly because of the long tradition of Uniate churches in those countries. Ignatius Michael III Jarweh (1792–1800), Bishop of Aleppo, founded the patriarchal line when, shortly after his election as Patriarch by the Syrian Orthodox Synod in 1792, he defected to Rome, taking much of his congregation with him. Shortly after his establishment of the Uniate Church, Ignatius Michael III Jaweh went to Lebanon and founded the Monastery of Our Lady at Charfeh. The present Patriarch in this unbroken lineage is Ignatius Joseph III Yonan, who took office in 2009.34 Rivalry with the Syrian Orthodox Church in the Tur ‘Abdin region, during the nineteenth century, resulted in many conversions to the Uniate branch. However, the vicissitudes of 1915 halved the numbers of Syrian Catholics, many dying of starvation. John Flannery reports, ‘[t]his presence is now little more than a memory’.35 As a consequence, the patriarchate moved from Mardin to Beirut, where it remains today.36 The Syrian Catholic community in Lebanon suffered during the Civil War (1975–90); its numbers were much reduced. In the early twentieth century, small Syrian Catholic communities also were established in Egypt and Israel-Jordan, but their presence is ‘now very small and diminishing all the time’.37 The Syrian Catholic congregations in Syria have burgeoned in recent years as a result of the influx of refugees from Iraq following the 2003 Allied invasion. Many Syrian Catholics fleeing from Turkey in 1915 settled in Iraq, where their numbers were augmented by Syrian Orthodox émigrés, who, in the chaotic course of events, had become ‘separated from their traditional church

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structures’ and converted.38 Large Syrian Catholic communities emerged in Baghdad, with an estimated 18,000 faithful served by 7 priests. The largest community was in Mosul, where the congregation numbered some 35,000 persons ministered to by 36 priests. The nearby town of Qaraqoche hosts six churches to serve its Syrian Catholic faithful. Under Saddam Hussein, as with other Christian denominations, the Syrian Catholics were permitted to practise their faith with relative freedom but were, of course, subject to all the surveillance and restrictions that were the norm for all Iraqi citizens. As Christoph Baumer comments, ‘[t]heir relative security was due not to a particular Muslim tolerance but rather to the efficiency of the Iraqi security apparatus, which tolerated no socio-religious tensions’.39

Syrian Catholic monasticism The Ba’athist government lent its support to the celebrations that were held in 1984–5 to commemorate 1,600 years since the founding of the Syrian Catholic Monastery of Mar Behnam, south of Mosul, traditionally believed to have been founded, in the fifth century, on the spot where the Sassanid prince Behnam was martyred, together with his sister Sara.40 Despite the undoubtedly early origins of the monastery, most of the buildings date back only to a large-scale restoration that was undertaken in the mid-thirteenth century following the arrival of the Mongols in northern Mesopotamia who destroyed the earlier buildings. In recent years the monastery has undergone extensive refurbishment, but exquisitely carved door lintels with Syriac inscriptions in Estrangelo script as well as a muqarnas (stalactite) ceiling in the church still distinguish the older parts. The Monastery of Mar Behnam is one of only a handful of buildings in the whole of Iraq that dates from the early Mongol period.41 Originally it was under the aegis of the Syrian Orthodox but passed into Syrian Catholic hands in 1839 following the division of ecclesiastical property by the wali of Mosul, a decision that was confirmed by a firman from Sultan Abdul Majid.42 Monastic life, however, really only resumed a hundred years later, in the 1930s, when restorations were made to turn Mar Behnam into a spiritual centre. It had served as a hospital for the Ottomans in the First World War. There are two ancient Syrian Catholic monasteries in Syria: Mar Elian in Qaryatain, near Homs, and Deir Mar Musa el-Habashi [St Moses, the Ethiopian], near Nebek, north of Damascus, which is distinguished by ‘some of the best-preserved wall paintings to survive in Syria’.43 The monastery had been unoccupied for many years when its abbot, Fr Paolo dall’Oglio, undertook restorations and revived a small community, until his expulsion in June 2012 by the Syrian authorities.44 In Lebanon, the eighteenth-century monastic foundation at Charfeh, on the outskirts of Beirut, has a printing press and houses over 2,000 Syriac and Christian Arabic manuscripts, including the valuable collection of Patriarch Ignatius Ephrem II Rahmani, which are currently being catalogued by a joint French–Lebanese team.45 Pope Benedict

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XVI met Patriarch Ignatius Joseph III Younan at the monastery in September 2012, during his three-day visit to Lebanon. The ‘Ephremite Sisters’, or ‘Daughters of the Mother of Mercy’, were founded in 1901, but dispersed during the First World War. The order of nuns was re-established in 1958. Since 1970, it has directed St Joseph’s Orphanage in Batha. In 2003, eleven sisters were working in Lebanon and six in Syria, along with ten novices.

The Syrian Catholic diaspora The spread of Syrian Catholic bishoprics in the Middle East, in keeping with the other Syriac churches, is now dispersed amongst various cities, principally in Iraq and Syria: Baghdad and Mosul (Iraq), Damascus, Aleppo, Hasseke, Homs and Hama (Syria). Nisibis on the Turkish–Syrian border also hosts a bishop, as does Cairo (Egypt). The Western diaspora extends to the Americas, where there are dioceses in Newark, NJ and Venezuela.46 Two bishops are posted in Rome, with patriarchal deputies in Basra, Jerusalem, Jordan and Istanbul. Missions represented by priests have been established in London, Paris and Amsterdam, as well as various cities in North America (Detroit, Jacksonville, Los Angeles, San Diego, Toronto, Montreal). The diaspora in North America and Europe numbers some 50,000 individuals, with initiatives emerging, particularly amongst the younger members.47 The Montreal Syriac Catholic Youth Club has some 250 members, including professionals and students.48 In London, the ‘Mar Behnam Choir’ from the Syrian Catholic Mission in England is composed of young men and women who not only sing at mass, but also perform at various functions and charities associated with Iraqi Christianity. The Syrian Catholic community in Australia is concentrated in Sydney (1,200) and Melbourne (1,000).

Syrian Orthodox and Syrian Catholics in Iraq Along with all Christian communities, the Syrian Orthodox and Syrian Catholics have suffered from the violence that has afflicted Iraq. The lecture by Pope Benedict XVI at the University of Regensburg on 12 September 2005 in which he quoted an unfavourable remark against Islam that had been made by the Byzantine Emperor Manuel II Palaeologos had direct consequences. In retaliation to the Pope’s quotation of this fourteenthcentury source, Islamic militants abducted Fr Paul Iskander, a Syrian Orthodox priest, from the Mar Ephrem church, Mosul. The kidnappers demanded that posters be displayed at thirty locations in and around Mosul, denouncing the papal speech. The fact that the Syrian Orthodox Church had never entered into union with Rome was immaterial to the militants, who either were unaware of the differences, or chose to ignore them. In accordance with their demands, posters were displayed at the designated spots. The Church was unable to pay the $350,000 ransom demanded by his

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kidnappers for his release. His decapitated body was found dumped by the roadside in an eastern district of Mosul on 12 October, 2006.49 The level of violence escalated from the individual to the collective with the killings that took place at Our Lady of Salvation Church in Karrada, Baghdad during Mass on 31 October 2010. The events on All Souls’ Day were telling. Whether the ten insurgents from the Sunni group, the Islamic State of Islam (ISIS), deliberately selected this day when the dead are commemorated is difficult to ascertain. What is clear is that it was the first time that a congregation in worship had been targeted. According to an eyewitness report, the attackers taunted the trapped congregation shouting, ‘All of you are infidels. We are here to avenge the burning of the Qur’ans and the jailing of Muslim women in Egypt.’50 With the doors of the church closed by the attackers in order to prevent people escaping, a maelstrom of violence erupted on the 100 worshippers: 58 faithful including pregnant women, as well as two priests (Saad Abdullah Tha’ir and Wasim Tabeeh), were slaughtered.51 The youngest victim of the gunmen was a three-year-old boy, who pleaded with them to stop. With seventy-eight parishioners injured, 80 per cent of the parish was either dead or wounded. Fr Nizaar Simaan summed up the situation in the sermon which he preached at the memorial mass at the Syriac Catholic Mission in London on 12 November 2012: ‘[t]his massacre that led to the shedding of innocent blood of the faithful must rank amongst the most despicable and cowardly act of recent events in Iraq’.52 The date 31 October has become a memorable one for all Iraqi Christians in the same way that the 9/11 Twin Towers attacks have become indelibly engraved in the minds of the US (and UK) public. Its memory cannot be erased, with the real fear being that future attacks are likely to happen. Amidst all the insecurity of daily life in Iraq, attendance at mass offered Christians not only spiritual consolation, but also community strength and support, perspectives that far surpass the role assumed by religion in Western society. The massacre at Our Lady of Salvation Church has meant that people are now terrified to go to mass. It has assumed a huge psychological dimension as well as causing an exodus of Christians from Baghdad to safer environs. A tsunami of fear has swept through the Christian communities – each terrified that it could be the next target, since Islamic extremists are not selective about denomination. Many people just packed up and left Iraq, since they did ‘not want to wait their turn to die’. In 2009, the total number of Syrian Catholics in Iraq was estimated at 75,000, but this number is still in decline.53 Whereas Assyrians and Chaldaeans are able to exercise, in many cases, some right of return to the northern territories of Iraq, now under the control of the Regional Government of Kurdistan, this option is not automatic for the Syrian Orthodox and Syrian Catholic, who traditionally did not dwell in these regions. Instead people attempt to go to Syria, the only country in the Middle East that has offered safe refuge and sanctuary to the refugees. Although it has abated, the violence in Iraq has not ceased. On 15 August 2011 the St Ephraim Syrian Orthodox Church in Kirkuk was attacked; the damage was only material and no injuries were

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reported.54 On 20 March 2012 the Syrian Orthodox Church of St Matthew in Baghdad was bombed, killing two people and wounding five.55 The Iraqi government alleged that the attacks would ‘present a negative image of the security situation’ in Iraq, ahead of the Arab League summit, and that targeting a church would generate more media coverage and concern in the West.56

Syrian Orthodox and Syrian Catholic communities in Syria Christians in Syria, who now include many refugee Iraqis, now hold real fears that they will be subject to a similar trajectory of violence to that which afflicted Iraq post-2003: attacks and bombings of churches, kidnapping, murder and the expulsion of Christians. The effects of the instability in Syria are already being felt as the long conflict between government forces and rebels who seek the overthrow of Bashir Assad’s regime deepens and continues to weaken the country’s infrastructure. The violence has even extended to the monasteries. ‘Liberation fighters’ ransacked the Monastery of Deir Mar Musa el-Habashi [St Moses the Ethiopian] on 22 February 2012. Thirty armed men stormed the monastery searching for weapons and money. The unidentified group declared that they had no intention to harm the people present at the monastery, but nevertheless physical assault did take place. The gunmen also destroyed all means of communication at the monastery.57 Early in 2012, Homs was the scene of fierce battles between government and rebel forces. Its citizens, including the sizeable Christian communities, suffered very heavy shelling. A senior Christian leader told the aid organisation the Barnabas Fund that at the end of February 2012 anti-government forces blocked people, including Christians, from fleeing the city. The fighters attempted to keep them there as ‘human shields’ in their offensives against government forces.58 In March, 2012 a leading Catholic news agency stated that it had ‘received’ a note from the Syrian Orthodox Church stating an estimated 90 per cent of the community had been expelled from Homs.59 Whilst it still remains unclear as to whether the Christians were forced to leave or left the violence of their own volition, an exodus of 50,000 people has taken place and only a handful remain within the city.60 Many of the displaced Christians from Homs have found refuge in the villages of Wadi al-Nasara, but are afraid that they will not be able to return to their homes.61 Muslims have occupied many of these homes, leading to a growing fear that Syria will turn into a ‘second Iraq’ with attacks on Christian property and the expulsion of the communities. The violence has spread to many parts of Syria, with repercussions for all Christian communities. In August 2012, Rableh, west of Qusayr, near Homs, was subject to a blockade of more than 10 days by armed opposition groups, causing great hardship to the 12,000 Greek Catholic faithful trapped in the village, presumably because it was considered to be a government stronghold. Government snipers shot Basilios Nassar, a Greek Orthodox priest, in Hama, in January 2012 whilst he was helping to evacuate people wounded in clashes. His black robes and beard apparently led to his mistaken identity

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as an Islamic fighter!62 Heavy fighting in Aleppo during September 2012 has destroyed considerable parts of the city, around the ancient citadel and souks, an area that also housed numerous churches.63 Rockets have been fired into the heavily populated Christian areas and refugees fleeing the fighting have reported the rebels shouting ‘The Alawites to the grave and the Christians to Beirut’,64 The Syriac Orthodox Archbishop of Aleppo, Yohanna Ibrahim, has said that hundreds of Christian families had fled in recent weeks as rebels and soldiers battle for control of the country’s biggest city.65 Christians are perceived as supporters of the Assad government since they were relatively well treated under his regime. Although church leaders did lend their support, this was not absolute and some Christians clamoured for political change in the early months of the anti-government uprising. Syrian Christians for Democracy, a non-profit organisation of Syrian Christian citizens and expatriates, has actively advocated support for the Syrian revolution.66 However, many initially supportive Christians have backed down as it has emerged that the Sunni militants have been infiltrated by sympathisers of Al Qaeda. As in other countries affected by the ‘Arab Spring’, radical Sunnis in Syria have seized the opportunity created by the unrest to pursue their agendas, often bolstered by arms and money supplied by Saudi Arabia.67 Weapons and militants from outside, including reports of Chechen fighters, strengthen the rebels’ campaign. The Barnabas Fund cited a senior Syrian church leader: The people of Syria do not want the international powers to interfere in their lives and so divide the country as they did in Iraq. Any such hidden agenda of the superpowers will mean the end of Christianity in the Middle East. Simply look at what happened to the Christians of Iraq after the war began there. … A great number of them had no choice but to leave the country forever, and those who stayed remain marginalised to this day. Not to forget that many of them were persecuted and their churches bombed. Accordingly, Christians in Syria are very suspicious of the interference of the superpowers, because their destiny stands to be no different than that of their Iraqi brothers and sisters. Western and Arab media have presented a distorted picture of the unrest in Syria.68 In an attempt to stabilise the rapidly deteriorating situation in Syria, many church leaders have made vocal appeals to the Arab world addressing the common heritage shared by Christians and Muslims.69 At a more grassroots level, Fr Nawras Sammour from Aleppo runs a nationwide relief programme known as Jesuit Refugee Services, which provides assistance to Syrian families – Sunni and Shiite Muslims, Druze, Alawite and Christian – who have been displaced by the violence.70

Conclusion The current crisis in Syria is in grave danger of undermining the harmony that has existed between Muslims and Christians over many centuries. This

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remains an arena of acute concern, especially as the country has hosted, since 2003, the bulk of the refugees from Iraq, numbering hundreds of thousands, fleeing from the violence that beset that country. Often living in impoverished circumstances and in many cases reluctant or unable to return ‘home’, these Christians are caught up in the ensuing violence. With growing desperation, along with their Syrian Christian brethren, they face chronic uncertainty, but in their case this is compounded as they are ‘foreigners’. The continuing trajectory of the Syrian Orthodox and Syrian Catholic communities for the last hundred years has been one of dislocation. The recent dispersal of the Christian communities from Homs may be a portent of future patterns. Until recently, Christians in Syria had a relatively secure foothold, but the escalation of bombings, now extending to the northern regions around Aleppo, has had a heavy toll. Despite assurances from leaders of opposition forces that they are not working towards a religious state, the revival of the Arab Brotherhood in Syria has heightened fears amongst the Christian communities. Syrian Christians may well be forced to relocate: the Syrian Catholics to Lebanon and the Syrian Orthodox to the Tur ‘Abdin. In the present climate of tension, the issue of the relocation and resettlement of Syrian Christians in Turkey’s southeastern regions might be raised. Although it would provide a viable solution, this seems unlikely, not only on account of the active tensions between Syria and Turkey, but also because the Turkish government has so far remained a ‘sleeping partner’ in the crises that have beset Christians in Syria and Iraq, many of whom are descendants of those who fled the vicissitudes that took place in 1915, when large-scale ‘ethnic’ cleansing forced the abandonment of ancestral villages in the Tur ‘Abdin. Such a relocation would be both enriching economically and culturally to southeast Turkey, which is in the throes of massive development. An exercise of ‘right of return’ for Syrian Orthodox and Syrian Catholic families would be a real gesture of mature responsibility by the Turkish government, and would go a long way in redressing the terrible circumstances that beset these ancient communities a hundred years ago.

Appendix The Syrian Orthodox Church Miaphysite; belonging to the Oriental Orthodox churches (which include the Armenian Orthodox Church, Coptic Orthodox Church and Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahido Church) that do not adhere to the Council of Chalcedon (451 CE). 1

Religious leaders

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Ignatius Zakka I (Sanharib Iwas) (1933–), in office 1980–.

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Title: Patriarch of Antioch and All the East and Supreme Head of the Universal Syriac Orthodox Church. Ignatius Zakka I was enthroned on 14 September 1980 and occupies the patriarchal residence in Bab el-Toma, Damascus. Born in Mosul, Iraq on 23 April, 1933, he completed his theological studies at Mor Ephrem Seminary in Mosul, followed by an MA in pastoral theology at General Theological Seminary, New York. Patriarch Ya’quub III delegated him as an observer at the Second Vatican Council in 1962 and 1963. In 1963 he was ordained as Metropolitan Bishop of Mosul, then was elevated in 1969 to Archbishop of Baghdad and Basra, Iraq. 3

Theological publications

Publications by Bar Hebraeus Verlag can be purchased online from the bookshop of the Mor Ephraim Monastery in the Netherlands (www. morephrem.com/bookshop). Translations, for the benefit of the Western diaspora communities, are also being made of older Syriac works, the most recent being Gregorios Bulum Behnam, Concise Teachings of Christianity for Orthodox Families and Schools; translation and introduction by Matti Moosa (Piscataway, NJ: Gorgias Press, forthcoming). 4

Congregations

D I OC E SE S OF T HE SY R I A N O RTH O D OX C H U RCH IN THE MIDDLE EAS T

Syria: (1) Patriarchal-vicariate of Damascus under the direction of Mor Ivanios Paulose Al-Souky; (2) Archdiocese of Jazirah and the Euphrates at Hassake, under the direction of Metropolitan Mor Eustathius Matta Roham, who was consecrated 1 July 1990; (3) Archdiocese of Aleppo under the direction of Metropolitan Mor Gregorios Yohanna Ibrahim at Aleppo, consecrated 4 March 1979; (4) Archdiocese of Homs and Hama, under the direction of Mor Silwanos Petrus Issa al-Nemeh, consecrated 12 December 1999 at the Mother of God Cathedral, Homs. Iraq: (1) Archdiocese of Baghdad and Basra under the direction of Metropolitan Mor Severios Jamil Hawa, consecrated 18 October, 1970; (2) Archdiocese of Mosul and environs under the direction of Metropolitan Mor Nicomedos Dawood Matti Sharaf, consecrated 27 November 2011; (3) Archdiocese of Mor Mattai Dayro [St Matthew’s Monastery] under the direction of Metropolitan Mor Timotheos Mousa Al Shamani, consecrated 16 December 2005. Lebanon: (1) Mor Theophilos George Saliba is the Metropolitan of Lebanon and Secretary to the Holy Synod; (2) Archdiocese of Zahle and Bekaa under the direction of Mor Yostinos Boulos Safar, who was consecrated 17 April

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2005. He also serves on the executive committee of the Middle East Council of Churches, and is a member of the Orthodox Committee for dialogue with the United Bible societies; (2) Archbishopric of Beirut under the direction of Metropolitan Mor Clemis Daniel Kourieh, who was consecrated 18 February 2007 and serves as a member of the Islamic–Christian Dialogue Committee in the Council of the Churches of the Middle East; (3) Archdiocese of Patriarchal Institutions under the direction of Metropolitan Mor Chrysostomos Michael Shimon, who was consecrated on 11 March 2011. The Holy Land: The Patriarchal Vicariate for the Archdiocese of Jerusalem, Jordan and the Holy Land under the direction of Metropolitan Mor Severios Malke Mourad, who is based at St Mark’s Syrian Orthodox Monastery, Jerusalem. He was consecrated 15 September 1996. Turkey: (1) Patriarchal Vicariate of Istanbul, Ankara and Urfa under the direction of Metropolitan Mor Filuksinos Yusuf Çetyn, who was consecrated 28 September 1986 and lives in Beyoglu, Istanbul; (2) Archdiocese of Tur ‘Abdin under the direction of Metropolitan Mor Timotheos Samuel Aktas, who was appointed Abbot of the Monastery of Mor Gabriel, Tur ‘Abin, in 1972 and consecrated as metropolitan in 1985. He resides at the Monastery of Mor Gabriel, Midyat; (3) Archdiocese of Mardin under the direction of Metropolitan Mor Philoxenos Saliba Özmen, who was consecrated 9 February 2003 and is the Abbot of the Monastery of Deir Za’faran, Mardin. DI O C E SE S OF T H E SY R I A N O RTH O D OX C H U RC H IN E UROPE

The Syriac Orthodox Church in Europe has seven Archdioceses. Sweden hosts two archdioceses, both located at Södertälje, near Stockholm, where most of the faithful live: (1) Archdiocese of Sweden and Scandinavia under the direction of Metropolitan Mor Julius Abdulahad Gallo Shabo; (2) Patriarchal Vicariate for the Archdiocese of Sweden under the direction of Metropolitan Mor Dioskoros Benyamen Atas. The Archdiocese of the Netherlands, including the St Ephrem Monastery, is under the direction of Metropolitan Mor Polycarpus Eugene Aydin, who was consecrated 15 April 2007. Other Archdioceses are located in (1) Switzerland and Austria; (2) Belgium, Luxembourg and France; (3) Germany; and (4) United Kingdom DIOCESES OF THE SYRIAN ORTHODOX CHURCH IN NORTH AND SOUTH AMERICA

In the USA, there are three Archdioceses: (1) Eastern United States – in New Jersey; (2) Western United States – in California; and (3) the Malankara Archdiocese of the USA. Canada has one Archdiocese in Montreal, Quebec, and in South America there are two Archdioceses: one in Argentina, and the second in Brazil.

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D I OC E SE OF AUSTR A LI A A N D N EW ZEA LA N D

The Archdiocese of Australia and New Zealand is served by Metropolitan Mor Militius Malke Lahdo, who was consecrated 7 September 2003, and is based in Sydney. S I Z E OF C ON G REG ATI O N S

Estimated 500,000 worldwide, including diaspora communities of 300,000 (80,000 in the USA, 80,000 in Sweden and 70,000 in Germany). The European diaspora now supports some 60 churches and has 125 priests. The south Indian branch of the Syrian Orthodox Church numbers some 1.2 million adherents. In 1997, a Syrian Orthodox church was consecrated in Sharjeh, to serve the spiritual needs of the sizeable number of Syrian Orthodox from India working in the Gulf. The Syrian Catholic Church This Uniate Church has resulted from churches that were formerly part of the Syriac Orthodox Church but joined with Rome and are therefore in full communion with the Pope and the rest of the worldwide Catholic Church. The first line of Syrian Catholic Patriarchs began in 1662, continuing till 1702. The current line of Syrian Catholic Patriarchs began in 1783, when Patriarch Ignace Michael III of the Syrian Orthodox declared himself a Catholic. 1

Religious leaders

• •

Ignatius Antony II Hayyek (1910–2007), in office 1968–98 Ignatius Basile Moses I Daoud (Basile Daoud) (1930–2012), in office 1998–2001 Ignatius Peter VIII Abdalahad (Peter Gregory Abdalahad) (1930–), in office 2001–8 Ignatius Joseph III Younan (Ephrem Joseph Yonan) (1944–), in office 2009–.

• •

2

Biography

Title: Primate and Patriarch of Antioch and All the East. Ignatius Joseph III Younan was born in Hassake, Syria on 15 November 1944 and was ordained a priest in 1971. He became Director of the Seminary at Charfet, Lebanon and also served the Church of the Annunciation in Beirut until 1986. In 1995, Pope John Paul II appointed him eparch of the North American diocese of Newark, where he served until his election as Primate and Patriarch. This was confirmed by Pope Benedict XVI on 22 January 2009. From his base in Beirut, he travels extensively, visiting in February 2013 the communities in Australia.

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Congregations

DI O C E SE S I N T H E MI D D LE EA ST

Syria: (1) Metropolitan of Damascus, Gregory Eliya Tabe, consecrated June 2001; (2) Metropolitan of Homs, Theophilus Giwargis Kassab, consecrated December 1999; (3) Archdiocese of Aleppo, Dionysius Anton Chahda, consecrated September 2001; (4) Archdiocese of Hassake–Nisibis, Yaʿqob Behnam Hindo, consecrated June 1996. Iraq: (1) Archdiocese of Baghdad, Yousif Abba, appointed March 2011; (2) Archdiocese of Mosul, Boutros Moshe, appointed March 2011, following the transfer of the previous incumbent, Basile Georges Casmoussa, to the Syrian Catholic Patriarchal Curia; (3) Patriarchal Exarch of Basra and Kuwait. The Holy Land: Patriarchal Exarch of Jerusalem, Gregorios Boutros Malki, appointed February 2002, whose jurisdiction covers Israel, Palestine and Jordan. Lebanon: The diocese of Beirut has remained vacant for more than a century, being administered by the Metropolitan of Homs. Turkey: Patriarchal Exarch of Turkey has been under the care of Monsignor Joseph Sagh since 1991. Egypt: Bishop of Cairo, Clement Joseph Hannush, consecrated June 1995. Sudan: Patriarchal Territory, administered by the Bishop of Cairo, as protosyncellus. DI O C E SE S I N N ORTH A N D SO U TH A MER I C A

Eparchy of Our Lady of Deliverance of Newark, Yousif Behnam Habash, whose jurisdiction also covers Canada. Apostolic Exarch of Venezuela, Iwanis Lewis Awad, consecrated in May 2003. PATRI ARC H AL V I C A R I ATES

Four based in Brazil, Sweden, France and Australia/New Zealand. The Patriarchal Vicariate of Australia and New Zealand has three churches in Sydney under the jurisdiction of Michael Berbari. Patriarchal Procurate: Patriarchal Procurate vis-à-vis the Holy See in Rome. S I Z E OF C ON G RE GATI O N S

According to 2010 statistics, 160,000 adherents, over 100 priests.

Notes 1 D. Evans, ‘Christians fear a violent backlash in Syria uprising’, news.yahoo.com/ christians-fear-violent-backlash-syria-uprising-161502492.html (accessed 1 June 2013).

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2 Sebastian P. Brock, ‘The Syrian Orthodox Church in Modern History’, in Anthony O’Mahony (ed.), Christianity in the Middle East: Studies in Modern History, Theology and Politics, London: Melisende, 2008, pp. 17–38. 3 Ibid., p. 17. 4 Ibid., p. 27. 5 Ibid., p. 30. 6 See: http://britishorthodox.org/1188/consecration-of-new-syriac-orthodox-cathedral/ (accessed 1 June 2013). 7 See: http://www.syrianchurch.org/bio/syriacorthodox/bio_athanasiustouma.htm (accessed 1 June 2013). 8 Brock, ‘The Syrian Orthodox Church in Modern History’, p. 33. 9 Timotheos Samuel Aktas, ‘Report on the imminent problems facing the Syriac monastery of St. Gabriel in Midyat, Turkey’, unpublished report, November 2008, p. 3. 10 Syriac Universal Alliance, ‘Monastery boundary cases declared null and void in Ankara court battle: back to the drawing board for the monastery’, SUA_Press_ Release_Boundary_Cases_Ankara_160810.pdf, 17 August 2010. 11 Abdulmesih Bar Abrahem, ‘Turkish Supreme Court rules against Assyrian monastery’, www.aina.org/releases/20110130160008.htm, 30 January 2012 (accessed 1 June 2013). 12 S. Brock, ‘The Cultural Contribution of Monasticism in Iraq’, in Erica C. D. Hunter (ed.), The Christian Heritage of Iraq, Piscataway, NJ: Gorgias Press, 2009, p. 72. 13 Christine Chaillot, The Syrian Orthodox Church of Antioch and All the East: A Brief Introduction to its Life and Spirituality, Geneva: Inter-Orthodox Dialogue, 1998, p. 119. This was also the author’s observation during a visit to Mor Mattai in 1989. 14 Brock, ‘The Syrian Orthodox Church in Modern History’, p. 21. 15 Ibid. 16 Chaillot, The Syrian Orthodox Church of Antioch, p. 118. 17 Brock, ‘The Syrian Orthodox Church in Modern History’, p. 32. 18 Ibid., p. 19. 19 Kapil Komireddi, ‘Syria’s crumbling pluralism’, New York Times, 3 August 2012 http://www.nytimes.com/2012/08/04/opinion/syrias-crumbling-pluralism.html (accessed 1 June 2013). 20 Brock, ‘The Syrian Orthodox Church in Modern History’, p. 18. 21 Ibid. 22 Chaillot, The Syrian Orthodox Church of Antioch, p. 39. 23 Ibid., p. 62. 24 Ruth Sherlock, ‘Syria: Easter cancelled in Homs after churches bombed’, http:// www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/middleeast/syria/9193394/ (accessed 1 June 2013). 25 Chaillot, The Syrian Orthodox Church of Antioch, p. 62. 26 Ibid., p. 65. 27 Ibid., p. 69. 28 Ibid. 29 Anthony O’Mahony, ‘Christianity in Iraq: Modern History, Theology, Dialogue and Politics (until 2003)’, in Hunter (ed.), The Christian Heritage of Iraq, p. 256. 30 Suha Rassam, Christianity in Iraq. Its Origins and Development to the Present Day, Leominster: Gracewing, 2010, p. 168. 31 Amir Harrak, ‘Recent Archaeological Excavations in Takrit and the Discovery of Syriac Inscriptions’, Hugoye, 2001, 4 (1), 103–8. 32 Suha Rassam, personal communication to author, March 2005.

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33 Chaillot, The Syrian Orthodox Church of Antioch, pp. 60–1. 34 The Patriarchal epithet always begins with Ignatius, in commemoration of the first-century martyr-bishop, Ignatius of Antioch. 35 John Flannery, ‘The Syrian Catholic Church: Martyrdom, Mission, Identity and Ecumenism in Modern History’, in O’Mahony (ed.), Christianity in the Middle East, p. 160. 36 Rassam, Christianity in Iraq. Its Origins, p. 177. 37 Flannery, ‘The Syrian Catholic Church’, p. 162. 38 Ibid., p. 160. 39 Christoph Baumer, The Church of the East: An Illustrated History of Assyrian Christianity, London: IB Tauris, 2008, p. 274. 40 Sebastian P. Brock, ‘The Cultural Contribution of Monasticism in Iraq’, in Hunter (ed.), The Christian Heritage of Iraq, p. 76. 41 Bas Snelders, Identity and Christian-Muslim Interaction: Medieval Art of the Syrian Orthodox from the Mosul Area, Leuven: Peeters, 2010, for detailed analysis of the art of Mar Behnam Monastery. 42 Rassam, Christianity in Iraq. Its Origins, p. 89. 43 Brock, ‘The Syrian Orthodox Church in Modern History’, p. 20. 44 Bill Spindle and Sam Dagher, ‘Can Syria’s Christians survive?’, Wall Street Journal, Saturday 11 August 2012. 45 See also, Catalogue des manuscrits de Charfet, Jounieh: Imprimerie des Pp. Missionaries Libanais, 1937. 46 Rassam, Christianity in Iraq. Its Origins, p. 177. 47 ‘The Syrian Catholic Church’, www.cnewa.us (accessed 1 June 2013). 48 Flannery, ‘The Syrian Catholic Church’, p. 165. 49 ‘The Martyrs of Iraq’, International Christian Concern, 2008, 14 (7). 50 Martin Cholov, ‘Baghdad church siege survivors speak of taunts, killings and explosions’, The Guardian, 1 November 2010. 51 ‘Al-Qaeda claims Iraq church attack’, http://www.aljazeera.com/news/middleeast/2010/11/201011134724982931.html (accessed 1 June 2013). 52 ‘Message for the Funeral Mass of the Victims of the Terrorist Attack on the SyroCatholic Cathedral in Baghdad’, www.vatican.va, 3 November 2010 (accessed 1 June 2013). 53 Rassam, Christianity in Iraq. Its Origins, p. 177. 54 Assyrian International News Agency, ‘Attack against Kirkuk’s St. Ephraim Syrian Orthodox Church’, posted 15 August 2011, http://www.aina.org/ news/20110815181710.htm (accessed 1 June 2013). 55 Assyrian International News Agency, ‘Baghdad church targeted in attacks that killed 52’, posted 22 March 2012, http://www.aina.org/news/20101101122119.htm. 56 John Pontifex and John Newton (eds), Christians and the Struggle for Religious Freedom with Persecuted and Forgotten? 2012 Update, Sutton, Surrey: Aid to the Church in Need, 2012, p. 51. 57 ‘Armed men storm desert monastery in Syria, seeking weapons, money’, Catholic News Service, 2 March 2012, http://www.pbs.org/wnet/religionandethics/episodes/ desert-monastery-in-syria/10500 (accessed 1 June 2013). 58 Stefan J. Bos, ‘Ethnic cleansing of Christians in Syria; 50,000 flee’, Worthy News, posted 27 March 2012, http://www.worthynews.com/11367-ethnic-cleansing-ofchristians-in-syria-50000-flee (accessed 1 June 2013). 59 Pontifex and Newton (eds), Christians and the Struggle for Religious Freedom, p. 75. 60 Bos, ‘Ethnic Cleansing of Christians’. 61 Bishop Antoine Audo SJ, in response to questions at a lecture, ‘The current situation of Christianity in the Middle East, especially Syria, after the Synod of the

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Middle East’s Final Declaration (September 2012) and the Papal visit to Lebanon’, at Heythrop College, London on 19 November 2012. ‘Can Syria’s Christians survive?’, Wall Street Journal, 11 August 2012, http:// online.wsj.com/article/SB10000872396390443537404577) (accessed 1 June 2013). ‘Shattered heritage’, http://www.dailystar.com.lb/News/Local-News/2012/Oct03/189967 (accessed 1 June 2013). Barnabas Fund, ‘The Forgotten Tragedy of Syria’s Christians: World Leaders Ignore their Plight’, Editorial published 4 October 2012, http://barnabasfund.org/ US/News/Archives/Editorial-The-forgotten-tragedy-of-Syrias-Christians-worldleaders-ignore-their-plight.html (accessed 8 January 2014). Evans, ‘Christians fear a violent backlash in Syria uprising’. ‘Our mission’, http://www.syrian-christian.org posted 20 December 2011 (accessed 1 June 2013). Kapil Komireddi, ‘Syria’s crumbling pluralism’. ‘50 Christians killed amid Syria unrest; many families need humanitarian aid’, Barnabas Fund Newsletter, 14 December 2011, http://www.barnabasfund.org/ index.php?m=2%238&a=3043 (accessed 1 June 2013). Patriarch Gregorios III (Laham), ‘24 Reflections and observations on the current situation in Syria’, 16 July 2012, https://melkite.org/patriarchate/24-reflectionsand-observations-on-the-current-situation-in-syria (accessed 1 June 2013). ‘Can Syria’s Christians survive?’.

29 Syrian Christian churches in India M. P. Joseph, Uday Balakrishnan and István Perczel

This chapter does not review the contemporary challenges facing only the ‘Orthodox’ churches in India, since this kind of distinction would be quite meaningless in a country where out of 1.2 billion people Christians number only between 24 and 25 million, where caste distinctions cross religious distinctions and where the title ‘Orthodox’ is included in the name of three churches of different origins. According to data from 2001, Christians constitute around 2.3 per cent of the country’s population and this percentage may well have declined in the 2011 census.1 However, the fact that an important segment of the country’s Christian population consists of former dalits casts some doubt on the reliability of the census data. The appellation dalit denotes a member of the community outside the traditional fourfold Hindu varna (caste) system, considered previously as ‘untouchable’ for caste Hindus. The dalits receive several benefits under India’s affirmative action programmes but only as long as they remain Hindu in their religion (or convert to Buddhism),2 such legislation inducing many who have converted to other faiths to conceal their new religion. This, together with the effect of secularisation, as a result of which baptised Christians may register in the census as non-Christians, results in the fact that the baptismal records of the churches show a much larger number of Christians than the census. Because of the way the affirmative action is structured in India, benefiting only eligible Hindus, the real number of Christians is grossly understated and could be in the range of 55–60 million instead of just under 25 million, with the states of Andhra Pradesh and Tamil Nadu registering a very high growth. The increase comes mostly from the newly converted dalits, most of whom remain closet Christians. There has been a demand that dalits regardless of faith, including Christians and Muslims, be given affirmative action benefits but, in the medium term, no such legislation can be expected. For different reasons the traditional churches also back closet conversions, partly to avoid publicity and partly to keep their wealthy flock within the fold. Part of the reason why some rich Christians are deserting their traditional churches could be to regroup under new denominations which are dalit-free, at a time when the bulk of the priesthood is being recruited from lower castes and when convents are increasingly filled with those from poorer, especially dalit, backgrounds.

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Thus it is certain that the actual number of Indian Christians should be considered much higher than the one enumerated under the census.3 The Christian influence in India is often observed to be disproportionately higher than the size of the country’s Christian population. Indians are familiar with and appreciative of the many Christian educational, medical and charitable missions spread across the country. For many decades, the gold standard in medical education has been the Christian Medical College at Vellore in Tamil Nadu and its standing remains very high, although with many medical colleges opening because of the recent privatisation of medical education, it has lost its unique status. In management education the Jesuit-founded XLRI Xavier School of Management in Jamshedpur, Jharkhand, has for long been considered one of the best in the country and has held its own even against the much sought-after Indian Institutes of Management in Ahmedabad, Bangalore and Calcutta. The Loyola Colleges in Chennai and Vijayawada, as well as the Loyola College of Social Sciences in Trivandrum, have set very high standards. The Madras Christian College in Chennai, founded by the Church of Scotland, has long been recognised for its excellence. St Xavier’s College in Mumbai and St Stephen’s College in Delhi have been amongst the most highly regarded by students from all parts of India. Christian private schools belonging to all denominations long ago set the standard for primary and secondary school education and such has been their prestige that a ‘Convent’ tag immediately increases a school’s status and, therefore, it is even quite common for non-Christian schools to add that tag to their title, in order to appeal to parents. Millions of Indians over several generations have been educated in Christian institutions and, so, without conversion, have imbibed many Christian values. Christianity has appealed to many Indians and the faith has not been an obstacle to prominence and power. The Lok Sabha (the Lower House of the Indian Parliament) has had two Christian Speakers, one of whom is P. A. Sangma (1947–) who served as Chief Minister of Meghalaya and who, at one time, even had prime ministerial ambitions and may have become prime minister of the country, had he not switched his loyalties away from the Indian National Congress Party. The other, known for his impartiality and calm, was the late G. M. C. Balayogi (1951–2002), a dalit and a staunch Christian. The late Y. S. Rajasekhar Reddy (1949–2009), one of the most popular Chief Ministers of the South Indian State of Andhra Pradesh, who is remembered as a champion of social welfare and development programmes, was also a Christian, as is the present Defence Minister of India, A. K. Antony. A particular factor of the Christian influence in India is the high-caste status of the traditional Syrian Christians of Kerala, who possess extensive property and wield a great deal of power in society. Christianity in India today is a combined product of an early advent and of later colonial missions, the former coming from the Eastern Mediterranean and the Persian Gulf in Late Antiquity, perhaps beginning in apostolic times, and the latter being the result of subsequent maritime colonial conquests

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begun by the Portuguese as early as in 1498 and followed by the Dutch, British and French East India Companies. Local traditions hold that the first Christian missionary who came to India was the Apostle Thomas, who, consequently, is considered as the patron saint and name-giver of the St Thomas Christians. These historical antecedents, together with the fact that Indian society is based on the jāti (caste) system, have led to a very complicated situation, where the statement about church allegiance constitutes only one sort of information about a Christian community. Jāti means an endogamous social and professional group that constitutes the basic element of the Hindu social system, rather than varna, the larger and largely theoretical theocratic taxonomy of Hinduism. Moreover, not only caste Hindus but also non-Hindus and dalits live in their own caste – jāti. Unfortunately, both varna and jāti are translated into European languages by ‘caste’, a term of Portuguese origin, which leads to further confusion.4 Out of the numerous Christian communities living in present-day India this chapter examines only the St Thomas Christians. This community faces specific challenges thanks to several historical and sociological factors. One such factor is the genuine ‘Indian-ness’ of these Christians whose ancestors have lived from times immemorial alongside the surrounding Hindu community and who do not remember having been anything other than an Indian Christian community.5 Another, closely connected, factor is that these Christians have traditionally constituted a couple of high castes of the Hindu society of the Malabar Coast. They have been closely associated with the local rulers, whose economic wealth was largely dependent on the traditional activities of the Christians, which were trade, farming and warfare. They were closely associated with their Hindu counterparts, the upper Nair castes, with whom they had no issue of purity,6 and with the Brahmin castes and temple worship. Thus, Christian churches were often built on temple precincts, on land rented from the temple, and Christian notables had the right to offer gifts at the Hindu temples.

The Syrian Christians of India: a brief glance into their socio-history Roughly speaking, in present-day India, there live, on the one hand, the descendants of the Indian Christians of early conversion who have traditionally been high-caste, as well as Christians converted by European missionaries, recruited from every Hindu caste but the majority of whom come from the lower strata of Hindu society. As to the St Thomas Christians, if we add the data released by the churches, their present-day strength can be estimated at 8 million, out of whom, according to the 2001 census, only 3 million live in their traditional home environment in the southern part of present-day Kerala state. Yet, most probably, a more correct estimate, considering not only the census data but also the baptismal records, would increase this number considerably. Be this as it may, the rest of the St Thomas Christian population spreads across India, the Persian Gulf states, Saudi Arabia and the Western

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world. In fact, this economically and socially well-to-do community is one of India’s most mobile elements.7 When the Roman Catholic Portuguese first landed on the Malabar Coast, this community uniformly belonged to the Persian Church of the East, or Nestorian Church. However, colonial interventions into its traditional ecclesiastic allegiances, and the missions of the Middle Eastern churches sent to the Malabar Coast as a reaction to the colonial interventions, meant that the community gradually split into eight different churches, or sub-communities. Out of these eight, at present two are in communion with the Roman Catholic Church, one with the Anglican Church, one with the Episcopalian Evangelists, one with the Nestorian Church of the East, while three belong to the Miaphysite family in communion with the Syrian Orthodox Patriarchate of Antioch.8 Besides all of these factions, during the British period, many individual members of the community joined one or another Protestant church, now united in the Church of South India.9 The attribute ‘Orthodox’ can be found in the names of two of those who belong to the Miaphysite family: the Malankara Jacobite Syrian Orthodox Church under the jurisdiction of the Syrian Orthodox Patriarch of Antioch and the Malankara Orthodox Syrian Church or, briefly, Indian Orthodox Church, under the jurisdiction of its autocephalous Catholicos residing in Devalokam, Kottayam, in the state of Kerala. Besides these two traditional communities, there is a Greek Orthodox mission in West Bengal, centred on Kolkata, with around 3,000 newly converted faithful, which has been active since 1980. According to its own founding traditions this ancient Indian Christian community consists of two elements: a majority descending from Indian populations, among whom the first members were converted – according to tradition – by St Thomas the Apostle, and a minority descending from Syrian merchant settlers who – once again according to the local tradition – arrived in South India through the sea routes from Persia using the monsoon winds, or navigating along the coast of the Arabian Sea. These two communities are called the Northists (Vadakkumbhagar), that is, the indigenous Indians, and the Southists (Thekkumbhagar), that is, the descendants of the Syrian colonialists, allegedly because once they inhabited the northern and the southern parts of the city of Kodungalloor (Cranganore) in Kerala. The community as a whole bears different names: ‘the Christians of St Thomas’ (in Malayalam: Mār Thoma nasrānikkal) after their claimed apostolic origin, or Syrian Christians (suryāni nasrānikkal) after their liturgical traditions, classical language – Syriac – and their historical allegiance to the West Asian Syrian churches. They are also called Mappiḷa Christians (nasrāni māppiḷa) denoting their social status in the neighbouring Hindu society, māppiḷa meaning the ‘son of the maternal uncle’ and thus, the ideal ‘bridegroom’, at least for some matrilineal castes.10 Mappiḷa is a general term for people of West Asian origin, most probably indicating these communities as having been formed – at least partly – through the intermarriage of trans-Arabian Sea sailors and

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merchants with local Indian women, presumably members of the matrilineal castes, which were more open for such intermarriages. This latter denomination the Christians share with their Muslim (yōna māppiḷa) and Jewish (yūtha māppiḷa) neighbours.11 Until recently they were also called Bauddha, that is, ‘Buddhists’, meaning non-Hindu Indians, or non-Orthodox Hindus. Once again, they share this denomination with the Indian Jews and Muslims.12 The two communities of the Northists and Southists constituted traditionally and still constitute two endogamous castes (jātis, ‘birth groups’) of the Hindu society. Traditionally, they constitute high castes of the extremely segregated Kerala society, closely associated with the Hindu Brahmins and Nairs, the predominant landowner classes of the Malabar Coast. During the subsequent modern colonial waves these Christians, together with other high castes, were the primary interlocutors of the Europeans. This led, on the one hand, to their subjugation (forced Latinisation by the Portuguese during the sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries), their subsequent revolt (the Bent Cross Oath at Mattancherry, Kochi in 1653) and their manipulation (a subtle Protestantisation of the Mar Thoma faction by the Dutch and, mainly, the British). On the other hand, this also led to their increased prosperity and an enhanced status in the local society as, often, they were the principal trading partners of the Europeans. All of these factors translate into a powerful social status of the Kerala Mappila Christians, many of whom fulfil important roles in business, civil administration and culture. In analysing the present-day divisions of the community, one has to bear in mind its initial split after the aforementioned Bent Cross Oath taken by the representatives of all of the Syrian Christian families. After the oath, which represented a separation of the entire community from the Portuguese colonisers and Jesuit missionaries,13 the revolting priests consecrated the local leader, called the ‘Archdeacon’, Thomas Pakalomattam, as the first indigenous metropolitan bishop of the community under the name Mar Thoma,14 who originated a long line (extinguished in 1816)15 of Mar Thoma bishops, bequeathing their office from uncle to nephew. Catholics managed to return the greater part of the secessionists to the Roman fold by consecrating, as an exceptional case, another Indian metropolitan bishop, Mar Chandy Parampil (Alexander de Campo), Mar Thoma’s cousin. Mar Thoma, whose consecration by the laying of hands of twelve presbyters was not canonical according to the rule of the apostolic succession, sought a valid consecration, which he finally obtained from a Syrian Orthodox (Jacobite) missionary bishop, Mor Gregorios Abd al-Jaleel, Patriarch of Jerusalem, who came to India in 1665. This gave rise to a slow process of the dissident community adopting elements of the Syrian Orthodox tradition: theology, liturgy and, as late as the second half of the nineteenth century, West Syriac script for its liturgical and literary books.16 This community was and is still called the Putthankoor, or the New Faction. At the same time, the majority that had remained within the Catholic fold continued to use the East Syriac liturgical tradition, while there was a competition between the usage of a Latinised Syriac rite (the

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so-called Malabar Chaldean rite) and the original Chaldean rite used in the Middle East. Those following the latter also maintained intermittent contact with the Chaldean patriarchs of the Middle East and understood themselves as being faithful to the Bent Cross Oath but neither following the autocephalous claim of the Mar Thoma faction nor switching to the West Syriac tradition.17 This group was and is still called the Pazhayakoor, or the Old Faction. The Pazhayakoor are also called, because of their liturgical tradition, East Syriac, and the Putthankoor, West Syriac. At present, due to subsequent splits, there are two East Syrian or Pazhayakoor churches and six West Syrian or Putthankoor churches. The largest group among the Syrian Christians is the Syro-Malabar Catholic Church. It came to being as a separate entity in 1887 when, after several hundred years of fighting, the greater part of the Pazhayakoor abandoned the Chaldean claim and acquiesced to a direct supervision by Rome and the usage of the Latinised rite. In exchange, they were organised in two independent vicariates of Kottayam and Thrissur – later, in 1896, extended into those of Thrissur, Changanacherry and Ernakulam, with local, Indian archbishops. A minority did not accept this compromise and formed its own church, now called the Chaldean Syrian Church which, gradually, starting from 1862, joined the Assyrian Church of the East, or Nestorian Church. The Syro-Malabar Church claims a total population of about 4.6 million, of whom perhaps 2 or 3 million live in Kerala, the rest having migrated for work or education to other parts of India and across the globe.18 The Chaldean Syrians number around 30,000.19 The history of the Putthankoor was one of constant internal and external strife and divisions. The first group to split from the Mar Thoma Church was led by a bishop, consecrated by an Antiochian Syrian Orthodox delegate in 1772, Mor Qurillos (or Koorilose) Kattumangatthu, who claimed a more legitimate consecration than that of the then Mar Thoma and founded a small community north of the traditional habitat of the Syrian Christians, in Thozhiyoor near Kozhikode (Calicut), in the kingdom of Malabar.20 This group now numbers, according to estimates, between 10,000 and 30,000.21 The Syrian Orthodox also became the target of Anglican missionary activity, as a result of which the Mar Thoma Church separated from the Orthodox in 1874, adopting the Anglican confession of faith and a reformed Syrian liturgy conforming to Protestant principles. As no official numbers are available, estimates about the actual strength of the Mar Thomites vary between 550,000 and 900,000.22 Another reformed group left the Mar Thoma Church in 1961 and constituted the St Thomas Evangelical Church of India, of Episcopalian tradition. Estimates about its constituency vary between 10,000 and 30,000.23 After a long struggle between a party that accepted the spiritual and the temporal headship of the Syrian Orthodox Patriarch of Antioch and another faction that claimed autocephaly for the Indian Church, being an apostolic Church founded by St Thomas, under the Malankara Metropolitan, in 1912

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the Orthodox split into two factions, the ‘Bawa faction’, or Patriarch faction or, briefly, ‘Jacobites’, and the ‘Metran faction’, that is, Metropolitan’s faction or, briefly, ‘Orthodox’. There is no difference of theology or faith between the two factions. As no official data have been released about the population of these communities, there are only estimates about the strength of the Jacobites and the Orthodox together, varying between 1,750,000 and 2.1 million.24 Even more difficult is to guess the individual constituency of the two churches, as the boundaries between the two are quite osmotic, families easily changing allegiances. Moreover, while the Jacobite faction accepts the division but claims numerical superiority, the Orthodox faction only gives the lump sum of the faithful, claiming that all the Syrian Orthodox belong to them de jure.25 In 1932 a part of the Orthodox/Jacobite faction joined the Catholic Church, adopting the liturgical traditions of the Syrian Catholic Church of Aleppo that uses a West Syriac liturgy. This group is presently called the SyroMalankara Catholic Church and numbered 436,870 in 2012, according to the Annuario Pontificio of 2012.26

Modern challenges Declining numbers There has been a noticeable declining trend in the population of Christians in Kerala over the last few decades. For example in the decade between 1991 and 2001, the population of Christians in the state fell by 0.32 per cent.27 The declining trend continued in the last decade and, when the religionrelated figures of the 2011 census are announced, the actual decadal fall in the population of Christians during the last decade will be clear. Thus, this is an important challenge facing the St Thomas Christians today and one which seems to be causing serious anxieties within all the various denominations of the Syrian Christian churches. Unlike Europe and the West, in Kerala these numbers have declined not because large numbers are leaving the churches but because of a variety of other factors. The decline is worrisome for the churches when viewed against the backdrop that, traditionally, the community has had large families and a fast-growing population. Prime amongst factors leading to this decline is the focus that is now placed on small families. Although the Syrian Christians have opposed all forms of artificial contraception and abortion, being a highly educated and forwardlooking community, they arguably use contraception, if not abortion, in an effort to control the size of the family. Ernakulam district in Central Kerala, as per the 2001 census, has the largest number of Christians among all the districts in the state. A campaign launched in the early 1970s by the then District Collector28 of Ernakulam District, to popularise the use of condoms, made a significant impact on the district. Using innovative approaches the young District Collector29 brought

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the use of condoms and other forms of contraception into the open. The secretive overtones and the dirty connotations with which, traditionally, condoms and contraception had been associated in people’s minds became dramatically altered by the highly successful campaign of the District Collector. Thus he brought the purchase and use of contraceptives out from their clandestine cocoon and made this a normal practice, to which married people could resort without embarrassment. He used a variety of methods such as public distribution of free condoms, popularising male sterilisation and making the five-minute laparoscopy operation a public event, with tens of thousands of eligible males who would queue up publicly in a celebratory festive atmosphere to undergo the operation. His actions enabled the state to overcome its conservative attitude towards condoms, sterilisation and contraception. The results of these persuasive efforts became apparent in the following decades, when the population growth in the state began to taper off and decline. From a state where it was very common for families to have eight or ten children, Kerala has become a state where it is very difficult to find families with more than two children. Catching on to the economic advantages of small families, often with the husband and the wife both working, the St Thomas Christians embraced the concept of small families with alacrity. The Syrian Christians would strongly deny the use of contraceptives and would profess that their small families were the result of natural methods of contraception but the two-child family is today the overwhelming rule within the St Thomas Christian families, in contrast with families that had four to six children only a generation ago and families of ten to twelve children in earlier generations. Women in the community today do not want to bear too many children, focusing as they do on their work and on bringing up well the one or two children that they have. Bearing children has become of secondary or tertiary importance to women of the community.30 Many within the community see the declining numbers as a cause for alarm in a country whose population in 2012 has crossed 1.2 billion and where political power is derived from vote banks. They fear that their community will get swallowed up into political insignificance. Such fears may also not altogether be unfounded in a country where political parties try for votes on the basis of such non-economic and non-political groupings as religions, caste and subcaste. The churches are anxious that their communities should not lose the political advantage that they presently have through reducing themselves to an insignificant number, at a time when the St Thomas Christians hold many important political offices, such as the positions of the Chief Minister31 of the state and that of its Finance Minister,32 while one of its members is the Defence Minister of India.33 At the same time, church leaders are acutely aware today that numbers do not always lead to economic or political power. Indeed, they are keenly aware that political power is often a function of economic power and intellectual acuity, and both derive from the influence a community is able to exert on

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politics through its economic and intellectual wealth. Indeed church leaders themselves point out that in India a great deal of real economic and political power is still wielded by Brahmins who constitute only about four per cent of the country’s population.34 In spite of this rationale with which a small forward-looking group of church leaders considers the declining numbers of the faithful, its lay and political leaders look with anxiety at the continuing decline in numbers. The diaspora: migration of the St Thomas Christians across India and the world Another issue posing a modern challenge to the community is the growing erosion of the community in Kerala caused by an increasing migration of large numbers of the community from the state. With the high levels of education amongst the St Thomas Christians and the growing demand for educated manpower across the world there has been a boom in migration of Syrian Christians from Kerala to work in a variety of fields, including as computer and software specialists, engineers, doctors, teachers and, particularly, as nurses, managers and highly skilled labourers. Estimates about the proportion of the migrants vary. According to K. C. Zachariah, they amount to 25 per cent. According to another estimate almost 50 per cent of the Syrian Catholics of the state have now migrated35 outside Kerala within India or abroad seeking either jobs or better education.36 However, if we compare the numbers of the 2001 census (around 3 million Syrian Christians living in Kerala) with the aggregated data given by the churches (over 8 million), even with an underestimate of the census and some exaggeration on the part of the churches – who, nevertheless, know their baptismal records – this would mean that the majority of the Syrian Christians are living in the diaspora. Migration is not something new for the St Thomas Christians. It has been happening for about a century now, when first they began to move out of the state but within the country in search of better education and jobs. However, what is alarming is the acceleration that, in the last few decades, this migration has acquired, increasing as it has exponentially to most parts of the world, and especially to the Islamic countries of the Gulf, Western Europe, the USA and Australia. The rapid increase in migration has been caused by a variety of factors, such as the increase in the level of education within the community, the ease of finding jobs outside the state and country, ease of travel within and outside the country, the effortlessness with which it is possible to live outside the country, recreating the culture and cuisine of Kerala in far-off lands, and the confidence that the growing number of their country members in a foreign town, city or country gives the migrants. A significant difference between the earlier migration of the community to other parts of India and recent migrations is that the earlier migrations were temporary and most, if not all, of the migrants returned to Kerala on completion of their education, or upon retirement. They would then settle within

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their communities and return to the culture and way of life that they had been used to before they migrated. The essential difference today is that many of those who migrate do not come back to Kerala. Especially in the case of migration to the more urban and affluent parts of the country and to Western Europe, the USA and Australia, there is now a permanence about the migration, with many of the migrants not wanting to come back. Migration has had a positive impact on the wealth of Syrian Christian families in Kerala, of the Church in the state and of Kerala itself. However, the challenge is the further erosion it is causing to the already-declining numbers of the community within Kerala. Many Christian families are left only with their senior members back home, since the able-bodied have moved to work outside the state and the country. The highest numbers of the Syrian Christian diaspora are in the Islamic countries of the Gulf, where the freedom of the community to practise its faith is either highly restricted as, for example in the United Arab Emirates, or completely banned, as in Saudi Arabia.37 The churches fear that the spiritual guidance and the pastoral care which the community received in Kerala is not available in these countries. The migrants then tend to lose their faith, culture and roots, becoming absorbed in the big towns and cities, or join other denominations of Christianity. To respond to this challenge, the SyroMalabar Church creates awareness amongst prospective migrants and tries to accompany the migrants in the new lands spiritually by sending priests and nuns to the areas where there are large numbers of migrants in order to ensure at least minimum religious practices. However, this is easier said than done with the decline in church vocations and the administrative requirements of obtaining permission from local bishops. Thus, the challenge for the St Thomas Christians concerns how to hold on to their faith and traditions in foreign lands. In search of an answer some sections of the Syrian Catholic Church seem to follow the example of the Jews and the Brahmins. They point out that, just like the Jews and Brahmins, for a long time the St Thomas Christians had no institutionalised Church with its hierarchies of priests and bishops. The transmission of faith amongst them occurred within the family, not through an institution like the Church. Institutionalised catechism classes, for example, started among the St Thomas Christians only as recently as sixty to sixty-five years ago. Earlier the faith was transmitted within the family, as it is still within Jewish and Brahmin families,38 whereas nowadays the transmission of faith has become largely the function of an institutionalised church. A school of thought within the community feels that the lost practice of the family being the focus for the transmission of faith needs to be revived, particularly in the context of the present migratory diaspora of the faithful across the world, where the Church in Kerala cannot reach them.39 The situation is aggravated by the fact that members of the Syro-Malabar Church have to integrate with other Catholic dioceses outside India, as the Church is not allowed to maintain a worldwide network of dioceses for its

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migrants.40 The case is different with other churches, which can and are willing to extend their diocesan structure to countries outside India. Particularly active is the Malankara Jacobite Orthodox Church, which has established five dioceses in the Gulf region and assigned its administration to five different metropolitans whose task, besides looking after their own dioceses in Kerala, is to take care of the Jacobite faithful in the Gulf. The Malankara Jacobite Church has three more dioceses for the UK, Ireland and Australia, while their American faithful integrate within the American dioceses of the Syrian Orthodox Church of Antioch.41 The Indian Orthodox Church has established three dioceses oversees, one for the UK, Europe and Canada and two for the United States,42 while the Mar Thoma Church has established a diocese for its diaspora in the Pacific (Malaysia, Singapore, Australia and New Zealand) and another for North America and Europe.43 A particular case is that of the small Chaldean Syrian Church of Thrissur, headed by Mar Aprem, one of the most learned and agile prelates in India, who, for the last decades, conducted yearly visits to the diaspora and wrote entertaining travelogues on his trips.44 He publishes a bi-monthly periodical, The Voice of the East, of which he is the only editor and which is also distributed electronically. Mar Aprem tries to maintain the cohesion of his community, even in the diaspora, through his personal charisma. For the Syrian Catholics, with their emphasis on celibacy for priests and on the monastic vocation, migration and the fall in population has resulted in a declining number of clergy. Until a few decades ago, priesthood and monasticism were a prerogative reserved only for the more aristocratic families. It was a privilege to be admitted to priesthood and it enhanced a family’s social standing if one of its sons became a priest or a daughter became a nun. With migration and population decline leading to fewer numbers of the faithful in Kerala, and the nuclearisation of families, there is a decline in the number of young men and women seeking vocations within the Church. With nuclear families having only two children, it is unlikely that parents would encourage vocations and a life of celibacy in their children. The drop in vocations is especially significant amongst women,45 who have traditionally joined convents in large numbers. As in the rest of India, St Thomas Christians are a highly patriarchal and patrilineal society, in which inheritance goes strictly only to the sons. Daughters were ‘a liability’, to be ‘married off’ as soon as possible, the parents having to find large sums of money and gold to be given in dowry if they had to find suitable husbands for them. The birth of a daughter was then often an occasion for some sorrow and it was always a matter of concern if a family had many daughters. Traditionally also there was no scope for women to find jobs or work outside the home. Parents with many daughters would then find the easy way out and encourage their daughters to join a convent, as that did not involve costs and, even if it did, only very little. A cloistered life was an alternative to a job for women in the poorer families. However, today, except in the cases where, in a futile attempt to have a son to carry on the family name, a nuclear family ends up with three or four

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daughters, Syrian Christians have only one daughter or two and there would then be no chance of them being encouraged to take up a vocation in the Church. Quite the contrary, parents today actively discourage any vocation within the Church, and with the level of education amongst girls within the community being very high, all of them manage to find jobs and, so, only a few would opt for a celibate life. The drop in vocations amongst girls has led to difficulties for the Catholic Church to manage the many institutions that it runs in the state. The Church in Kerala has traditionally been in the forefront of running and managing educational institutions, hospitals, health-related institutions and institutions for marginalised groups, such as homes for the old, the sick, the handicapped, the mentally challenged, orphans and destitute and for AIDS patients. Nuns managed and ran most of these church institutions. Today, with a decrease of vocations among girls, there is a serious shortage of woman power within the Church to manage institutions and the Church is confronting an immediate future when it may not be able to run them any longer.46 This is certainly a challenge the Church is very anxious about, for, in the long term, it will have to divest itself of these institutions, which not only bring much prestige to the Church but are seen as constituting an essential part of its Christian way of life. Different is the situation in the Orthodox churches (the Jacobites and the Orthodox). Here monasticism, although present, has never been very strong and female vocations are especially rare. Charitable institutions are mostly managed by bishops in association with lay volunteers as well as by some aristocratic families (such as the Indian Orthodox Konat family in Pampakuda). The continued existence of these institutions is, thus, less endangered. Threats of a communist Kerala and a secularised world Kerala is one of the few places in the world where communism continues to be quite significantly influential and Marxist ideologies hold sway over the minds of a large number of people. Kerala was one of the first states in the country where communism gained ground within the democratic and constitutional framework, and in 1957 Kerala voted a Communist Party to power in a strictly democratic election.47 The communists have thereafter won every alternative election in the state, in 1967, 1977, 1987, 1997 and as recently as 2006, and were in power from 2006 until 2011. The communists control many corporations, municipalities, district councils and gram panchayats48 and are today the largest single party in the state legislature, although a noncommunist coalition is now ruling the state. Traditionally the communists in Kerala have followed the Marxist line and challenged belief in God, religion and religious hierarchies. They have particularly challenged Catholicism, whose hierarchies are as strong as communist hierarchies. The churches have largely opposed communism and its atheism, and have had many skirmishes with the communists in Kerala. At times the Catholic Church has taken active anti-communist stands and exhorted their

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faithful against the communists; in return the communists conducted a vociferous verbal war against church leaders. The communists with their influence amongst certain large sections of the masses and with their vote banks are still a threat to the churches, mostly the Catholic Church. However, the communists have never met with much real success in their crusade against the Church or religion in Kerala and to win democratic elections the communists have often had to tone down their anti-God stance. Thus it is not unheard of for communist leaders to furtively meet influential heads of the churches during election times, to seek, if not their support, at least their neutrality. There have also been periods, albeit short, when the relationship between the two has been more or less cordial. Moreover, while the Catholic Church took a strong anti-communist stand, other, mostly smaller, churches adopted a much more neutral attitude. In a state and country where an overwhelming majority of the population strongly believes in religion (whatever that religion might be), the communists have recently been diluting their uncompromising atheist stand. Moreover, community and caste politics also play a role. Sometimes there is more antagonism between two Christian communities (usually those which have a close-knit past) than between the churches and the communists. According to a church leader, whose name cannot be revealed here, his community always places candidates in the party opposing the party in which the other community places its candidate in a given electorate. In other words, as Congress (more precisely the United Democratic Front – UDF) and the communists (more precisely the Left Democratic Front – LDF) are the two main parties, if X Church places its candidate in the Congress party, then its traditional opponent, Y Church, places its candidate among the communists and vice versa. In this way the urge to increase the influence of one’s community overrides ideological differences. Therefore, while the communists have been a pet bogey of Syrian Christians and their churches in Kerala ever since they won their first elections in the state in 1957,49 today the churches are candid that they do not fear the communists as much as they did in the past. The churches today fear something much more potently abstract: the threat is the ongoing secularisation of the world through globalisation and the mass media.50 The unfettered freedom that secularisation brings in its wake is a greater challenge than the unattainable earthly utopia which communism promises, so that church leaders assert that, for the St Thomas Christians, ‘secularization is more dangerous than Communism’.51 The Church believes that secularisation is to be taken seriously, for it affects the social fabric of the community, its traditions and values and admits that, being a forward-looking high-caste community, the St Thomas Christians are easily affected by the annihilation of the spiritual compass that secularisation brings in its wake and the drugs, sex and violence that a secularised media seems to promote into homes and families. With more of the faithful migrating abroad and living in the midst of other religions or, worse, in a secular milieu, there is fear that the present generation

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will abandon its age-old faith and traditions and that the community will lose its identity. Some such loss of identity seems to be already taking place amongst the Syrian Christian diaspora in the highly secular environment of the USA, Europe and Australia. Contradictory as it may seem, in Islamic countries where Christians are not allowed to practise their faith or, if allowed, can do so only under highly restrictive conditions, the Syrian Christian diaspora appears to be taking every effort to cling to its traditions and faith. In these non-secular countries, the churches feel less anxious about the future of their flock than in secular democracies. In Islamic countries, the faithful find the restrictions on faith a challenge to their ingenuity and devise means to beat the restrictions. Stories abound on how the faithful in a country like Saudi Arabia, where all forms of public worship and mass are banned, congregate every week in private homes for worship and prayers. At such prayer meetings there is always a large cake ready at hand, so that in case a snoopy neighbour is prying around, or there is a police raid, they gather around the cake and a child would cut it with everyone joining in to sing rounds of ‘Happy Birthday’.52 The real anxiety for the Church, then, is the onslaught of secularisation. Secularisation is eating into the faithful and, with its emphasis on individualism, the solidarity and unity that the St Thomas Christians have shown over many centuries seem to be dissipating.53 Secularisation has been aided by the nuclearisation of Syrian Christian families. Being embedded in Hindu society, the St Thomas Christians have always followed a form of the joint family system with three or four generations often living under the same roof with a patriarchal grandfather heading the household. After a son got married and had children, a separate house would be built for him within the same compound or nearby, while the rest of the family continued to live in the original family home (in Malayalam, tharavad). Similarly when the next son got married, the same process would take place, and so on until the last son got married. The tharavad was reserved for the youngest son, for it was his (and his wife’s) duty to look after their now ageing parents. This somewhat modified form of a joint family system ensured that while each of the grownup married sons had their own homes, the whole family lived together in the same compound or nearby, joining together for evening prayers and for all important occasions. The nuclear family was therefore unknown to the Syrian Christians until very recently but has become the norm today, with most often both the husband and the wife working. Nuclear families have led to growing individualism within the community, which in turn has catalysed the impact of secularisation. Secularisation would have found it more difficult to touch and change the mores and traditions of the community, had the community not adopted nuclear families. There are sections of St Thomas Christians who consider that a response to the impact of secularisation is to go back to the pre-Portuguese traditions of the St Thomas Christians. However, clocks cannot be turned back. While ancient traditions can hold back secularisation

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to an extent, church leaders feel such traditions have to be introduced prudently and slowly through a process of what Bishop Mar Bosco Puthur of the Syro-Malabar Catholic Church describes as inculcation, adaptation and restoration. This cannot and should not be done overnight.54 Divisions A Syrian Christian minister in the government of Kerala belonging to the Kerala Congress Party, composed mainly of St Thomas Christians and also a party that has splintered and regrouped innumerable times, once said that his party ‘splits as it grows and grows as it splits’.55 The minister said this jokingly but the seriously uncanny resemblance of the description of his party to the Syrian Christian Church during the last 500 years is unavoidably apparent. Ever since the advent of the Portuguese, the St Thomas Christians were splintering and regrouping among themselves but in doing so, apparently, they always gained strength. Like the party, the Church has ‘grown as it split and split as it has grown’. The splintering continues today, but in the age of secularism, mass media and tele-evangelism it could pose a more serious challenge to the growth of the community than in the past. Perhaps the most painful division within the present body of the Syrian Christian ‘caste’ (jāti) is that of the Jacobites and the Orthodox. These two groups, belonging to the same Miaphysite confession, separated in 1912 after a longstanding internal tension that had been perhaps as old as the Mar Thoma Church joining the Syrian Orthodox Church of Antioch. With the exception of a short period between 1958 and 1975, when the two churches, following an order of the Supreme Court, became united, the two factions are continuously in court, quarrelling over the jurisdiction and the property rights of churches, seminaries and other institutions. There are continuous demonstrations, clashes and even violent actions.56 While the Orthodox have filed innumerable court cases, the Jacobites have many satyagraha (fasts, sit-ins, etc.) which, although initially non-violent, often turn violent. The split has also triggered competing ideological stances. While the Jacobites have returned to their Syriac roots and are entertaining intense contact with their mother church and community, the Orthodox are laying the emphasis on their Indian-ness and love to date every monument and remains to St Thomas’s time. While the Jacobites are insisting that, before joining the Nestorian Church of Seleucia-Ctesiphon, the Indian community jurisdictionally belonged to Antioch, the Orthodox are keen to recall the original allegiance to the Church of the East, in order to play down the role of Antioch. While the Jacobites are cultivating the Antiochian connection, the Orthodox are more active in the ecumenical movement, looking for new allies and a renewed identity. For both groups there is also a tendency to destroy historical evidence believed to be contrary to their respective positions.57 Another kind of division is caused by neo-Protestant evangelical groups. Here we will treat, as a characteristic example, a recent splinter group within

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the Catholic Church, which calls itself ‘the Covenant People’. The Covenant People’s movement began as a charismatic movement within the Syrian Catholic Church, but soon broke away, taking with it some highly influential families from one of the most important Syrian Catholic dioceses in Kerala. It has also spawned other such movements within the Church and is largely the creation of one person, Jose Anathanam. The Anathanam family belongs to the aristocratic upper crust of Syrian Catholic families and is largely based in and around the picturesque hill town of Kanjirappally in the Western Ghats, which is the centre of the plantations in Kerala, particularly rubber plantations as well as of the chief hill towns from where much of Kerala’s spices and hill produce find their way to the plains below. It is one of the richest places in the rich district of Kottayam. The Anathanams, along with the Pottamkulam and the Kollamkulam families, all of whom are rubber plantation owners, are not only among the most influential families of the area, but make the important decisions in temporal and in many spiritual matters in the diocese of Kanjirappally. Anathanam started as a Catholic charismatic lay preacher in 1982, upon whose preaching, according to his own memories, miraculous healings occurred. First he was ‘preaching to the cream of Syrian Catholic society including nuns and priests and retreats were happening every week’.58 Later these priests and nuns who attended his retreats would invite him to their convents and parishes. He would be asked to speak to a group of 2,000 priests and his name spread all over India. As his fame spread, crowds would gather to hear him, and some of those who heard him knelt in front of him and asked him to pray for them. In Mumbai three film stars from Bollywood came to hear him preach and he felt God was giving him an opportunity to convert Bollywood. He received letters of praise from many bishops across the country who certified that what he was saying was perfectly correct Catholic doctrine.59 Anathanam preached in full obedience to the church leaders and always informed the Bishop of Kanjirappally before and after he went for any retreat. The main theme of his preaching, he says, was that ‘Jesus Christ is the only way to the Father in Heaven’.60 He particularly appealed to the educated people who based their faith on reason. The poor could be swayed by miracles and so forth, but the educated upper crust of Syrian Catholic society in Kerala were those who believed that, ‘God is a God of reason’ and ‘faith has to be with reason. Only an unreasonable person will seek blindness in faith’, according to Joseph Thevarcaud, a nephew of Anathanam, one of the first to join him.61 However, Anathanam gradually turned against the Catholic Church. He resented that his preaching was not encouraged enough and that the priests envied his success. In 1996 he started to preach to Pentecostals expecting to make an ecumenical overture. He called this group the Covenant People. However, the Catholic Church was not happy with his new approach and his Catholic friends and many relatives began to leave him. The situation

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deteriorated when he realised that he had been baptised when he only was a week old, when he could not understand anything of what was happening, nor could he believe in Christ. According to his new recognition, such a baptism was only a ritual and contrary to the words in St Mark’s gospel, ‘believe and be baptised’ (16:16).62 This recognition motivated him to get baptised again in 2000, in a river by complete submersion, with one of his followers reciting the baptismal formula. This led to his excommunication from the Catholic Church parallel to his denial of the saving role of the Church. A Circular in the name of the Bishop of Kanjirappally, Mar Mathew Arackkal, was issued and read out in all the churches in the diocese, denying him all sacraments. Although he met the bishop, their negotiations have not resulted in any solution. Anathanam then prayed for six months. Thereafter, he decided to hold conventions, preach on television and also start a magazine. This magazine failed but his television evangelisation was a tremendous success, through which he now reaches out to ‘millions of people; they are listening to me and listening to every word I say’.63 Today the Covenant People are an independent group. They collect their own funds, with members giving a tenth of their income, the tithe. Anathanam stresses that he does not ask for money in his television programmes, nor does he respond to requests for prayers. He only preaches the word of God. The Covenant People are about 60 per cent former Catholics and 40 per cent from other churches. According to Anathanam, there are even a few converted Hindus in the congregation.64 Anathanam claims the Covenant People’s movement has a congregation of about 5,000 and that it has eight churches, two in Ernakulam, and one each in Kanjirapally, Trivandrum, Kottayam, Bangalore, Kattapana and Mangalore. There are similar splinter movements taking place in other parts of Kerala. One of these groups, which is more significant than that of Anathanam if numbers are counted, is led by someone who calls himself Emperor Emmanuel and who keeps warning his congregation that the world will end soon. The Believers Church led by K. P. Yohannan draws his congregation mainly from the Jacobites. According to Bishop Mar Bosco Puthur, a disproportionate number is now leaving the Church compared to earlier times, especially among migrant Christians, for example in the Gulf, where prayer groups are easily influenced by lay preachers, because such groups abroad are unable to be tended by the church hierarchy. He admits, for example, that there are many Syrian Christian nurses working in the Gulf who are leaving the Church. He cites the case of a couple who had no child for ten years. A lay Pentecostal preacher came, they had a child and both of them decided to leave the Church. As part of the charismatic renewal, the Syrian Catholic Church in Kerala encouraged lay preachers, some of whom later began to adopt an anti-clerical attitude, feeling that the Church did not need priests, bishops and nuns. Enthused by the power of their own tongues and moving up through the

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charismatic movement, these freedom-loving laymen consider the Church to be an impediment to faith. They also claim to be able to treat sickness and patients through the power of the Spirit that flows to them.65 Their followers come to them especially when they see that a sick man is healed by them through prayers, or that others are helped out in times of financial difficulties. Further reasons for leaving the Church include conflicts with the priests and the hierarchy. For its part the Church is trying to counter these defections and new movements by making the parish more spiritually authentic, by making the liturgy more enlightening and the homilies more Bible-orientated. With the parish being the basic unit, there is a necessity to reach out to the people much more at this level. Furthermore, these recent defections may not lead to new sects. Indeed the Syrian Christian Churches do not seem to have been seriously affected by these movements. On the contrary, perhaps spurred on by these defections, there seems to be a new religious fervour in the Church in Kerala these days. Churches are packed during Sunday masses and even on weekdays. Some churches have two or even three services even on week days. Does this point to a resurgence of the faith within the Church in Kerala? As Bishop Mar Bosco Puthur says, religious activity has certainly increased, new and impressive-looking church buildings are appearing everywhere in Kerala, but this does not seem to indicate any increase in the spiritual qualities of the faithful. Bishop Puthur feels that consumerism has affected the Church and the spurt of religious activity and church building is but one more facet of consumerism. The bishop calls it religious consumerism as the new church constructions point only to growing wealth; they do not reflect growing faith or spirituality.66 Bishop Bosco admits that, as a result of the aforementioned processes, in the long term the number of St Thomas Christians may significantly decrease, but he sees the way out in a spiritual rebirth, in the increased spiritual and intellectual qualities of those faithful who remain Syrian Christian not by birth but by choice. Bishop Bosco thinks that the future of the community may lie in its voluntary return to its spiritual values inherited from the past. An endangered patrimony The words of Bishop Mar Bosco Puthur invite some further thoughts. Indeed, the frenzy of building new churches indicates the growing wealth of the communities. The parishioners are becoming richer than ever, accumulating their wealth in Kerala, other parts of India, the Gulf countries and the West. As they feel the parish their home and as, the nuclear families notwithstanding, their allegiance to their home community remains strong, they lavishly donate to the parish and these donations are handled by the parish priests and the parish councils. Willing to commemorate their names as founders of new churches on nicely set plaques in the walls, these donors are happy to demolish the old and unfashionable church buildings and to build spacious churches in concrete. Yet this is the way the ancient monuments

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of a Christianity that boasts of being of apostolic origin are being pitilessly destroyed and, with every such monument, a witness to the community’s true history is disappearing. Catholics are at the forefront of such demolitions, while the Jacobites and the Orthodox are only somewhat better at preserving their old churches. Recent years have seen the demolition of the historical St George’s Church in Angamaly near Ernakulam (only the sacristy being preserved); the beautiful church complex of Ramapuram in Kottayam District, which was the headquarters, for some years before his death in 1799, of the famous Governor Thomas Parammakkal, who governed the Pazhayakoor in defiance of the Latin hierarchy;67 and, some months ago, the beautiful old Indo-Portuguese church of Alangad in Ernakulam District, which had been the venue of the consecration of the first Mar Thoma Metropolitan in 1653,68 and of the odd event when, in 1701, Mar Shim’on, an East Syrian (Nestorian) prelate consecrated the first Latin Archbishop directly obedient to the Catholic Church and not to the Portuguese king,69 and where the legendary Joseph Kariatty, who later, in 1778, went to Rome and Lisbon in order to return in 1783, consecrated as the indigenous Metropolitan of the St Thomas Christians only to suffer a dubious death in Goa, studied at the Carmelite seminary and served as a priest. However, for their part, the Orthodox have demolished the old church at Kallada, in Kollam District, originally founded by Syrian immigrants in the ninth century.70 These are quite frightening examples of a community grown powerful and affluent, not only forgetting but actively demolishing its own past.71

Conclusion The St Thomas Christians are one of the most ancient Christian communities in the world. The Indian caste system, in which they had become inserted, has preserved the unity, the customs, the particularities and the identity of this community, which functioned and still functions as a high caste in this system. Their identity came under attack only with colonial influences. Because of their common Christian faith, the Europeans considered them their primary interlocutors in South India, which resulted in an ambivalent relationship: on the one hand the St Thomas Christians had to undergo a pressure that they highly resented, but, as a trading community, they also benefited from the new trade relationships. The European influence also destroyed the Church unity of the community. Thus the community was continuously ‘splitting while it grew and growing while it split’. Furthermore, this versatile community took full advantage of the common space opened by a unified and independent India, where it has become, together with the Brahmin community, a group with an influence far in excess of its numbers. It was among the first and the most efficient to use the new possibilities offered by globalisation. Yet, it is riddled by a demographic decline, migration, new conversions and teleevangelism, secularism also taking its toll. Paradoxically, its newly increased wealth leads to the destruction of many of its beautiful historical sites. If it is to renew spiritually, according to the vision of Bishop Mar Bosco Puthur, it

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should first rediscover and preserve its past, of which it is proud but without caring for it.

Appendix A Churches of the East Syrian liturgical traditions (Pazhayakoor churches) A.1 The Syro-Malabar Catholic Church 1

• • • • 2

RE L I G I OU S L EA D ER S

Mar Joseph Parecattil (1912–87), in office 1956–84 Mar Antony Padiyara (1921–2000), in office 1985–96 Mar VarkeyVithayathil (1927–2011), in office 1996–2011 Mar George Alencherry (1945–91), in office 2011–. B I OG RAP H Y

Title: Major Archbishop of Ernakulam-Angamaly, Head and Father of the Syro-Malabar Catholic Church, Cardinal of the Catholic Church and titular archpriest of San Bernardo alle Terme in Rome. Mar George Alencherry was born on 19 April 1945 at Thuruthy in Kottayam District. He studied economics at Kerala University, Thiruvananthapuram (Trivandrum) and theology at the Pontifical Theological Institute, Aluva (Alwaye). He obtained a DSEB/DTh joint degree from the Sorbonne and the Institut Catholique de Paris in 1986. From 1986 to 1993 he served as Deputy Secretary of the Kerala Catholic Bishops’ Council; from 1986 to 1991 he was the Director of the Pastoral Orientation Centre at Palarivattam; from 1986 to 1997 he was Professor at Paurastya Vidyapitham, Kottayam; from 1994 to 1997 he served as Protosyncellus of the Archdiocese of Changanacherry; from 1997 to 2011 he served as Bishop of Thuckalay and was consecrated Major Archbishop of Ernakulam-Angamaly on 23 May 2011. 3

• • • • 4

T H E OLOG I C AL PU BLI C ATI O N S

Sathyadeepam [Lamp of Truth] (Malayalam and English weekly) Thomas Christian Heritage: The International Journal of the SyroMalabar Research Centre (published twice in a year) Synodal News: Bulletin of the Syro-Malabar Major Archiepiscopal Church (published yearly) Eastern Legal Thought (published yearly). C ON G RE G ATI O N S

Structure of the Church:72 30 Eparchies, out of which 5 Archeparchies and 25 Eparchies. All the 5 Archeparchies and another 13 eparchies are within the

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583

canonical territory which includes the whole of Kerala and some districts of the neighbouring states of Karnataka and Tamil Nadu. The 13 eparchies within canonical territory are organised into suffragans of the 4 Metropolitan Sees. The Archeparchy of Kottayam is an Archeparchy without suffragan eparchies. The Major Archbishop and the Synod have full authority over these 18 Eparchial Sees. The 12 Syro-Malabar Eparchies outside the canonical territory are directly under the Pope. Although their bishops are members of the Syro-Malabar Bishop’s Synod, the Major Archbishop has only limited authority over them. These eparchies are generally suffragans of the nearby Latin Archdioceses. The 5 Archeparchies are the following: Ernakulam-Angamaly, Changanacherry, Trichur, Kottayam, Tellicherry. There are 2,738 parishes. Number of clergy and church buildings:73 47 bishops, 8,547 priests (3,556 diocesan and 4,991 religious), 32,114 women religious and 1,214 major seminarians. Size of congregations:74 4,604,104 baptismal certificates: 4,018,204 in the 30 Syro-Malabar dioceses in India and abroad plus 585,900 faithful outside the Syro-Malabar dioceses (at those places where they have to integrate the Roman Catholic dioceses). A.2 The Chaldean Syrian Church (or the Assyrian Church of the East in India) 1

• • • 2

RE L I G I OU S L E AD ER S

Mar Abimalek Timotheos (1878–1945), in office 1908–45 Mar Thoma Dharmo (1904–69), in office 1952–68 Dr Mar Aprem Mooken (1940–), in office 1968–. B I OG RAP H Y

Title: Metropolitan of India. Mar Aprem was born on 13 June 1940 at Thrissur, Kerala; his name was George David Mooken. He is the most learned prelate of the Assyrian Church of the East (Nestorian Church) and is an eminent church historian. He obtained his BD degree from Serampore University at Jabalpur, after which he studied, with a fellowship of the World Council of Churches, at King’s College, London, St Augustine’s College, Canterbury and the Ecumenical Institute in Bossey, Switzerland. He obtained an MA in church history from Serampore University (1966) and an STM degree from Union Theological Seminary, New York (1967). He was candidate for a DTh degree at Princeton Theological Seminary, working under the supervision of the Orthodox theologian George Florovsky, when he was called back to be consecrated Metropolitan of India in Bagdad, Iraq, in September 1968, as his predecessor Mar Thoma Dharmo had been elected Catholicos Patriarch of the Assyrian Church. Finally, he earned his DTh degree from Serampore University in 1976. He also holds a PhD in Syriac language and literature from Mahatma Gandhi University,

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Kottayam, defended in 2002. Mar Aprem was the first to initiate a systematic study of the Syriac manuscripts in Kerala and is Honorary President of the Association of the Preservation of the St Thomas Christian Heritage. He is a prolific writer who has published 68 books, mostly in English, and a number of scholarly articles. Some of his books have been translated into Malayalam, Assyrian and Russian. In 1984 he was awarded the ‘Man of Achievement Award’ of the International Biographical Centre, Cambridge, UK. 3

T H E OLOG I C AL PU BLI C ATI O N S

Voice of the East/Qālā d-Madnḥā (a bi-mensual journal published in English, mostly written by Mar Aprem) The Chaldean Syrian Church also has a publishing house, the Mar Narsai Press in Thrissur.

• •

4

C ON G RE G ATI O N S

Structure of the Church:75 The Chaldean Syrian Church has 29 parishes in India and one parish in Dubai in the Persian Gulf. Number of clergy and church buildings: 1 metropolitan, 2 auxiliary bishops, 50 priests, 20 deacons, 3 deaconesses and 3 nuns. Size of congregations: around 30,000 faithful.76 B

Churches of the West Syrian liturgical tradition (Putthankoor churches)

B.A

Churches of the Syrian Orthodox (Miaphysite) confession

B.A.1

T H E JACO BI TE SY R I A N C H R I STI A N C HURCH (OR THE MAL ANKARA

JAC OB I T E S YRI AN O RTH O D OX C H U RC H )

1

Religious leaders

•

•

Mor Baselios Augen I Chettakulathukara(1884–1975), in office 1964–75 (as head of the united Syrian Orthodox Church of India, including the present Indian Orthodox) Mor Baselios Paulose II Puthussery (1914–96), in office 1975–96 Mor Gregorios Gevargheese Parapallil (1933–99), in office 1996–9 (as President of the Episcopal Synod of the Jacobite Christian Church in India) Aboon Mor Baselios Thomas I Cheruvillil (1929–), in office 2002–.

2

Biography

• •

Title: Catholicos of India, Maphrian of the East, Presiding Hierarch of the Universal Syrian Orthodox Church in India. Aboon Mor Baselios Thomas I was born on 22 July 1929 as Cheruvillil Mattai Thomas in Vadayambadi, Puthenkuriz, Kerala. He studied under

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585

Mor Philoxenos Paulose, later Catholicos Mor Baselios Paulose II, who ordained him a priest in 1958. He was created metropolitan with the title ‘Mor Dionysius’ by Patriarch Mor Ignatius Ya’qub III on 24 February 1974 in Damascus, Syria and was entrusted with the charge of the Angamali diocese, the largest of all the Syrian Orthodox dioceses with a membership of over half a million. From 2000 to 2002 he served as the Catholicos designate of the Church and was consecrated Catholicos on 6 July 2002 by Moran Mor Ignatius Zakka I Iwas, Patriarch of Antioch and all the East, in Mor Ephrem Monastery near Damascus. His Catholicate office is at the Patriarchal Centre in Puthencuriz near Kochi, which is also the headquarters of the Syrian Orthodox Church in India. 3

Congregations

Structure of the Church:77 The Malankara Jacobite Christian Church consists of two Archdioceses, namely the Malankara Archdiocese of the Syrian Orthodox Church in India, headed by the Malankara Metropolitan bearing the rank Catholicos/Maphrian of the East and the Knanaya Archdiocese for the independent Knanaya (Southist, or Thekkumbhagar) jāti (caste)78 of the Syrian Orthodox confession, headed by an Archbishop directly subordinated to the Patriarch of Antioch. The Malankara Archdiocese consists of 28 metropolitanates under the direct jurisdiction of the Malankara Catholicos, out of which 20 are in India and 8 abroad (in the Persian Gulf, Europe, the USA and Australia). The Knanaya Archbishop is assisted by 4 auxiliary bishops in the rank of metropolitan, 3 for India and one for the Western diaspora. To the same Church belong also the Simhasana (Throne) churches under 3 metropolitans directly subordinated to the Patriarch of Antioch. The Malankara Jacobite Church also animates two independent missions under the direct jurisdiction of the Patriarch, namely the Evangelical Association of the East, being the Church’s missionary and charitable organisation active in Kerala, Karnataka and Tamil Nadu, and the Honnavar Mission in Karnataka, founded by Roman Catholic priests who joined the Syrian Orthodox Church in 1937. There is also a Patriarchal Secretary for Indian Affairs, residing in Damascus next to the patriarch in the rank of a metropolitan. Number of clergy and church buildings: Size of congregations: There is no precise official number of the membership of the Jacobite Christian Church in India. According to the Church’s official website, the Syrian Orthodox churches altogether number around 2,100,000 faithful, who are almost evenly divided between the Jacobite and the Orthodox faction. According to Jacobite estimates, around 1,100,000 belong to the former and 1,000,000 to the latter. This includes around 950,000 members of the Jacobite Syrian Christian Church under the Catholicos of India but under the spiritual supremacy of the Syrian Orthodox Patriarch of Antioch, 50,000 members of the Syrian Orthodox Congregations under the direct jurisdiction of the Patriarch and

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around 100,000 Knanaya Jacobite Syrian Christians, headed by their own Archbishop subjected only to the Patriarch.79 B.A.2

THE

MA LA N K A R A

O RTH O D OX

SY RIAN

CHURCH

(T HE

INDIAN

ORT H OD OX C H U RC H )

1

Religious leaders

•

• •

Maran Mar Baselius Mar Thoma Matthews I (1907–96), in office 1975–91 Maran Mar Baselius Mar Thoma Matthews II (1915–2006), in office 1991–2005 Maran Mar Baselius Mar Thoma Didymus I (1921–), in office 2005–10 Maran Mar Baselius Mar Thoma Paulose II (1946–), in office 2010–.

2

Biography

•

Title: The Catholicos of the East and Malankara Metropolitan. Maran Mar Baselius Mar Thoma Paulose II was born on 30 August 1946 in Mangad near Kunnamkulam, as Paul Ipe Kollannur. He studied at St Thomas College and conducted his postgraduate studies in sociology at CMS College, Kottayam. He also obtained a BD degree from the Serampore University. He was consecrated a priest by Yuhanon Mar Severios at Sion Seminary, Koratty, in 1973. On 1 August 1985 he was consecrated a bishop with the name Paulose Mar Milithios. So he became the first bishop of the newly formed Kunnamkulam Diocese. In 1991 he was elevated to the rank of a metropolitan. He was serving as President of the Orthodox Syrian Sunday School Association of the East and as Vice-President of Mar Gregorios Orthodox Christian Student Movement of India. He also served as President of the Orthodox Youth Movement. He was nominated as the successor to the Catholicos of the East and Malankara Metropolitan on 27 September 2006 and elevated to the throne on 1 November 2010. 3

Theological publications

•

Malankara Sabha Magazine [Malankara Church Magazine], published monthly in Malayalam.

4

Congregations

Structure of the Church:80 The Orthodox Church comprehends 30 dioceses, 27 in India and 3 abroad. It maintains 2 theological seminaries, one in Kottayam and one in Nagpur, as well as 24 monasteries. Size of congregations: There is no precise official number of the membership of the Indian Orthodox Church. According to the Church’s official website, this membership is around 2 million, which, evidently, means that the Syrian Orthodox are also

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counting the full constituency of the Jacobite Church as de jure belonging to them.81 B. A .3

T H E MAL ABA R I N D EPEN D EN T SY R I A N C HURCH (T HOZ IYOOR S ABHA)

1

Religious leaders

•

•

Paulose Mar Philexenos Ayankulangara, Metropolitan, in office 1967–77 Mathews Mar Koorilose Kuthoorey, Metropolitan, in office 1978–86 Joseph Mar Kurillose Alathoorey, Metropolitan, in office 1986–2001; Valliya Metropolitan, in office 2001– Cyril Mar Baselius, Metropolitan, in office 2001–.82

2

Biography

• •

Title: Valliya Metropolitan (Senior Metropolitan) of the Malabar Independent Syrian Church and Metropolitan of the Malabar Independent Syrian Church. The distinction between Valliya (Senior) Metropolitan and (acting) Metropolitan is taken over from the Mar Thoma Church (see below, B/B.1). The Valliya Metropolitan is a retired metropolitan, who is not exerting direct administrative functions. However, in the present case the Valliya Metropolitan, after recovery from his illness causing his resignation, had claimed his administrative function back, which in fact resulted in a schism. 2

Congregations

Structure of the Church: The Malabar Independent Syrian Church has 13 parishes. It runs 4 schools, a hospital and has a press. Size of congregations:83 Estimates about the strength of the Malabar Independent Syrian Church vary between 10,000 and 35,000. B.B

Churches of Protestant confession

B. B.1

THE

MAR

TH O MA

SY R I A N

C H U RC H

OF

MAL ABAR

(MALANKARA

M A RT T H OMMA S U R I YA N I SA BH A )

1

Religious leaders

•

Most Rev. Dr Juhanon Mar Thoma, Mar Thoma XVIII (1893–1976), Metropolitan in office 1947–76 Most Rev. Dr Alexander Mar Thoma, Mar Thoma XIX (1913–2000), Metropolitan in office 1976–99; Valliya Metropolitan 1999–2000 Most Rev. Dr Philipose Mar Chrysostom, Mar Thoma XX (1918–), Metropolitan in office 1999–2007; Valliya Metropolitan (2007–)

• •

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M. P. Joseph, U. Balakrishnan and I. Perczel

•

Most Rev. Dr Joseph Mar Thoma, Mar Thoma XXI (1931–), Metropolitan in office 2007–.

2

Biography

Title: Metropolitan of the Mar Thoma Syrian Church of Malabar, Mar Thoma XXI. Joseph Mar Thoma Metropolitan was born on 27 June 1931 as Palakkunnathu T. Joseph. He belongs to the Palakkunnathu family in Maramon, from which have come Abraham Malpan, the reformer and founder of the Mar Thoma Church as well as the first four bishops of the Church after the reformation. He had his theological training at the United Theological College, Bangalore (BD in 1957) and the Protestant Episcopal Seminary in Virginia, USA. He also studied in theological institutions in Canterbury, Oxford and was awarded the honorary degree of Doctor of Divinity by Virginia Seminary, where he also studied. He was ordained a bishop in 1975 under the name Joseph Mar Irenaeus. He was designated as suffragan metropolitan in 1999 and metropolitan in 2007. He was the President of the National Council of Churches in India and Member of Executive Committees of different development agencies like Church’s Auxiliary for Social Action (CASA) and the microfinance organisation, ECLOF India. He is one of the Senior Presidents of the Christian Conference of Asia and the Chairman of CASA. Presently, he is in charge of the Niranam-Maramon Diocese. 3

Congregations

Structure of the Church:84 The Mar Thoma Church is within the Protestant Episcopalian tradition; accordingly, its central administrative body consists of the Metropolitan, the Episcopal Synod, the Prathinithi Mandalam (Representative Assembly) and the Sabha Council (Church Council: the executive body of the Mandalam). The Church has 10 dioceses in India and 2 oversees dioceses, namely the Diocese of Malaysia, Singapore, Australia and New Zealand and the Diocese of North America and Europe. Each diocese is governed by a diocesan Episcopa, that is, Bishop. Number of clergy and church buildings:85 The Mar Thoma Church has a Valliya (Senior, or retired) Metropolitan, an acting Metropolitan, a Suffragan Metropolitan and 10 Episcopas (bishops). It has 1,166 parishes and congregations, with 795 active and 151 retired priests. The Prathinithi Mandalam (Legislative Assembly) has 1,431 members. Size of congregations: According to the official website of the Mar Thoma Church, the Church has around 900,000 members. However, the same website speaks about ‘over a million adherents spread worldwide’.86 There are no precise data given. The nasrani.net website gives the number 550,000,87 which seems to be an underestimate, while the official number of around 900,000 might be based on

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the baptismal records. The number 900,000 is also accepted by A. P. Varghese.88 Both these conflicting data, dating from 2007, must be equally outdated. B. B.2

T H E ST T H O MA S EVA N G ELI C A L C H U RC H

1

Religious leaders

•

• •

Bishop K. N. Oommen, consecrated in 1961, died in 1984. He was the first Presiding Bishop (between 1961 and 1966) of the Church after its separation from the Mar Thoma Church Bishop Most Rev. Dr T. C. Cherian Bishop Most Rev. Dr C. V. Mathew.

2

Biography

Title: Presiding Bishop of the St Thomas Evangelical Church of India. Dr C. V. Mathew was consecrated bishop in 2008. He is both an academic and a church leader. His area of specialisation is in religions, Hindu fundamentalism and a Christian response. Also, he is the President of the Bible Society of India – Kerala Auxiliary, Chairman of the Evangelical Fellowship of India, being the grouping of all evangelical churches, organisations and ministries in the country, the Director of World Vision International, Asia Pacific Region, Deputy Chairman of the Lausanne Committee of World Evangelization, Principal of Jubilee Memorial Bible College, Chennai, Academic Dean of Union Biblical Seminary, India’s largest and foremost evangelical seminary. 3

Theological publications

•

Suvisesha Prakashini [Shining of the Gospel] (a monthly journal published in Malayalam).

4

Congregations

Structure of the Church:89 The Church is governed by the Prathinithi Mandalam (the Representative Assembly), which elects the Presiding Bishop for five years. Size of congregations: Estimates about the constituency of the St Thomas Evangelical Church vary between 10,000 and 25,000.90 B.C The Syro-Malankara Catholic Church 1

• • • •

RE L I G I OU S L E AD ER S

Aboon Geevarghese Mar Ivanios Panickerveetil (1882–1953), in office 1932–53 Benedict Mar GregoriosThangalathil(1916–94), in office 1955–94 Cyril Mar Baselios Malancharuvil (1935–2007), in office 1995–2007 Moran Mor Baselios CleemisThottunkal (1956), in office 2007–.

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B I OG RAP H Y

Title: His Beatitude, Catholicos, Major Archbishop of the Syro-Malankara Catholic Church, Cardinal of the Catholic Church. Moran Mor Baselios was born 15 June 1959 as Isaac Thottunkal in Mukkoor, in Pathanamthitta district, Kerala. He studied theology at St Joseph’s Pontifical Institute, Mangalapuzha, Aluva (Alwaye), the Papal Seminary, Pune and Dharmaram College, Bangalore. He obtained a doctoral degree in ecumenical theology from Pontifical University of St Thomas Aquinas (Angelicum) in Rome, in 1997. In 2001 Pope John Paul II nominated him Apostolic Visitor and Auxiliary Bishop of Trivandrum for the migrant members of the SyroMalankara Church residing in North America and Europe. In 2003 he became bishop of the Eparchy of Thiruvalla and, in 2006, Metropolitan Archbishop of the Archeparchy of Thiruvalla. In 2007, he was elected the second Major Archbishop of the Syro-Malankara Catholic Church. 3

C ON G RE G ATI O N S 9 1

Structure of the Church: The Syro-Malankara Church has 9 Eparchies, out of which 2 are Archeparchies. Out of these 8 are in India, with an additional Exarchate for the United States. The 2 Archeparchies are the following: the Metropolitan Archeparchy of Trivandrum and the Archeparchy of Tiruvalla. The Church has 692 parishes. Number of clergy: There are 12 bishops, 639 priests in the dioceses (546 diocesan and 93 religious), 221 men religious and 1,688 women religious. 252 seminarians. Size of congregations: 436,870 within the nine Eparchies. 4

P OP U L AT I ON

According to the 2011 census, in 2011 India’s population reached 1,210,193,422. The breakdown of this last census according to religious communities is not known as yet, so we only have the data of the 2001 census, according to which, out of a population of 1,028,610,328, 24,080,016, corresponding to 2.3 per cent, were Christian. Accordingly, Christians constitute India’s third most numerous religious population after the Hindus (80.5 per cent) and the Muslims (13.4 per cent), before the Sikhs (1.9 per cent), Buddhists (0.8 per cent) and Jains (0.4 per cent). Yet, this number and percentage is much lower than the total number that can be extrapolated from what is known from the baptismal records. So, as a result of several factors discussed in the chapter, the real number of Christians in India should be 55–60 million, that is, around 4.9 per cent, according to a conservative estimate. Within this population, if we follow the data released by the churches, the number of Syrian Christians should be estimated at around 8 million. Yet, according to the 2001 census, the Syrian Christian population of Kerala numbered around 3 million. On the causes of this dicsrepancy see above, pp. 571–2.

Syrian Christian churches in India

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Notes 1 According to the 2011 census, India’s population has reached 1,210,193,422 (Dr C. Chandramouli (ed.), Census of India 2011: Provisional Population Totals – Paper 1 of 2011, New Delhi: Office of the Registrar General and Census Commissioner, India, 2011; also available at: http://www.censusindia.gov.in/2011-prov-results/data_files/ india/paper_contentsetc.pdf, p. xi). The 2011 census data on the religious distribution of India’s population are not yet available. In 2001 the total population of India amounted to 1,028,610,328, among whom 24,080,016, corresponding to 2.3 per cent, were Christian. Christians constitute India’s third most numerous religious population after the Hindus (80.5 per cent) and the Muslims (13.4 per cent), before the Sikhs (1.9 per cent), Buddhists (0.8 per cent) and Jains (0.4 per cent) (2001 census data available at: http://www.censusindia.gov.in/Census_Data_2001/Census_ data_finder/C_Series/Population_by_religious_communities.htm) (accessed 12 March 2013). 2 According to India’s Constitution only Hindus are entitled to the affirmative actions benefiting the so-called ‘Scheduled Castes’. However, the Constitution distinguishes between ‘religious Hindus’ and ‘legal Hindus’ and includes the reform movements of Hinduism, as well as Jains, Sikhs and Buddhists, in the category of ‘legal Hindu’. As a result, Article 25 (2)(b) of the Constitution stipulates that ‘the reference to Hindus shall be construed as including a reference to persons professing the Sikh, Jain or Buddhist religion’ (P.M. Bakshi, The Constitution of India, New Delhi: Universal Law Publishing, 2009, p. 41). Therefore, even dalit Hindus who convert to Buddhism preserve their access to the affirmative action programmes. 3 Information collected by Uday Balakrishnan from church leaders and parish members who wish to remain anonymous. Thus, while the phenomenon treated here and – as far as we know – never treated publicly is undeniable, its extent and numbers at this stage can only be hypothetical. 4 Varna is the traditional – largely theoretical – taxonomy of the Hindu society, defined by the Manu Smṛti, Manu’s Law Book, which defines four varnas, those of the priests, the warriors, the craftsmen and merchants, and the servants. These constitute the ‘caste Hindus’, the others remaining, in principle, outside the caste system. However, the actual cornerstone of the Hindu society is the jāti (birth community). Both caste and casteless Hindus belong to their actual jāti. For a detailed discussion see Robert Deliège, Le système indien des castes, Villeneuve d’Ascques: Presses Universitaires du Septentrion, 2006, chapter on ‘Varna et Jati’, pp. 33–57. Important is Deliège’s remark that if a Brahmin is asked about his/her caste, s/he will refer to his/her varna, but any other Hindu will refer to his/her jāti: ibid., p. 51. See also the notes of M. N. Srinivas in The Remembered Village, Berkeley: University of California Press, 1976, p. 170: ‘The view of caste as a ladder-like hierarchy expressed in varna prevents the understanding of jati which is basically local.’ There is much speculation about a putative historical development from varna to jāti but this question is not relevant for our purpose (see for example, Dipankar Gupta, Interrogating Caste: Understanding Hierarchy and Difference in Indian Society, New Delhi: Penguin Books, 2000, chapter on ‘From Varna to Jati: A Historical Excursus’, pp. 198–224). According to a rather popular thesis by Nicholas B. Dirks, caste as we know it today is a product of an encounter between Indian society and its British rulers (N. B. Dirks, Castes of Mind: Colonialism and the Making of Modern India, New Delhi: Permanent Black, 2002), while the traditional Indian social system was much more flexible and changeable than its British representation. This may well be the case but it does not abrogate the fact that jāti is the fundamental unity of Indian society. 5 This summary statement needs some qualifications. In fact, several clans of the community remember that they have a double ancestry and that they have resulted

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from the intermarriage of local Christians with Syrian Christian merchants settling at the Malabar Coast and bringing to them the ecclesiastic jurisdiction of their mother church, the Persian Church of the East. 6 When the Portuguese arrived in the Malabar Coast, they remarked with no little astonishment and pride that the Christians were the best soldiers of what they called ‘the Serra’, so that no local king would maintain an army without a Christian elite division. The Christians wore their hair in pigtails and had a fierce appearance, just like their Hindu counterparts, the Nairs, with the difference that they tattooed a cross next to their nose. Their local leader, the Archdeacon, moved around accompanied by Christian soldiers, often 3,000 in number. In front of every church there was an arms depository, where the armed Christians left their swords and guns, before entering the church. A particularly famous Christian warrior preceptor (panikkar) family was the Malittas of the city of Mavelikkara. The situation changed after Tippu Sultan’s campaigns in 1789–90, when the East India Company took over the military protection of the southern princely states in exchange for very heavy taxes. Because of these taxes the rajas of Travancore and Kochi were not able to maintain an army as previously and dispelled their Nair and Christian soldiers. The Nairs have preserved their military training in the form of the Kalaripayattu martial art. European travellers observed a swift transformation among the Christians. Within the period of two decades they abandoned all their military traditions, gave themselves up to trade uniquely and adopted the lifestyle of the Brahmins. See Susan Bayley, Saints, Goddesses and Kings: Muslims and Christians in South Indian Society, 1700–1900, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1989, 2003, pp. 249–53, 273– 6, and 281–5. 7 The number of the Christian population in Kerala amounted to 6,057,427 in the 2001 census (http://www.censusindia.gov.in/Census_Data_2001/Census_data_finder/C_ Series/Population_by_religious_communities.htm). Out of these around 3 million are Syrian Christians. Yet, according to the data released by the churches themselves, based on the baptismal records, the total number of the Syrian Christians worldwide can be estimated at around 8 million. The author of ‘Population Statistics and Demography of Saint Thomas Christians, Churches with historical references’, available at http://nasrani.net/2007/02/13/population-statistics-demography-saintthomas-christians-churches/#identifier_32_181 (accessed 12 March 2013), gives the estimate of 6,700,000, which sounds low if we accept the numbers given by the churches (altogether over 8 million: see Appendix). The demographer K. C. Zachariah, in The Syrian Christians of Kerala: Demographic and Socio-Economic Transition in the Twentieth Century, Hyderabad: Orient BlackSwan, 2006, claims that only around 25 per cent of Syrian Christians live outside Kerala, an estimate which would reduce their number to 3,750,000, or 4 million at most. This riddle is difficult to solve but Zachariah seems to underestimate the strength of the diaspora, while the churches are basing their numbers on baptismal records, which may not be reflected in the census as, for a variety of reasons, baptised Christians may declare themselves as something else. Also, some of the approximate numbers given by the churches may be overstated. 8 The Miaphysite, or Anti-Chalcedonian, churches are those that officially reject the doctrine of the Council of Chalcedon, convoked in AD 451, which has defined the relationship of Christ’s divinity and humanity as Christ being one person in two natures, with a communication of the properties of the two natures in the one person. Against this view the Miaphysites speak about Christ being one person or one composite nature constituted out of two natures, with one composite, divinohuman activity and one will. Both the Miaphysite and the Chalcedonian Churches accept the authority of the Third Ecumenical Council of Ephesus held in AD 431. Historically, Chalcedonian are the Roman Catholic and the Protestant churches as well as the ‘Eastern Orthodox’ churches of the Byzantino-Slavic tradition, including

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9

10

11 12

13

14 15 16 17

18

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the Georgians. Miaphysite are the Coptic, the Ethiopic, the Syrian Orthodox and the Armenian Apostolic churches. Outside this dichotomy stands the Church of the East, or Nestorian Church, which does not accept the Council of Ephesus and teaches a doctrine of two natures that is more pronounced than the Chalcedonian teaching. However, Chalcedonian are also all those communities that have split from the Oriental (Miaphysite or Nestorian) churches and joined one of the Chalcedonian churches (Catholic, Protestant or, incidentally, Byzantine Orthodox). The Church of South India is an ecumenical Protestant church resulting from the union of several churches of varying traditions, namely Anglican, Methodist, Congregational, Presbyterian and Reformed. In its structure it combines the Episcopalian and the Congregational traditions and recognises the sacraments of baptism and the Lord’s Supper. It was inaugurated in September 1947, soon after the proclamation of India’s Independence. Ever since, it has been within the Anglican communion (available at http://www.csisynod.com/history.php) (accessed 12 March 2013). Explanation given by Venugopala Panicker, communication by Dr Ophira Gamliel. According to this explanation, māppiḷa is a composite word from māman, ‘maternal uncle’, and piḷḷa, ‘son’. Dictionaries generally give the meanings ‘bridegroom’ or ‘son-in-law’. This situation has been evoked, as for the Jews, on the basis of the Cairo Geniza materials, most powerfully by Amitav Ghosh, In an Antique Land, New Delhi: Penguin Books India, 2008. In Thripunnitthura Sanskrit College we found a Malayalam palm-leaf manuscript entitled ‘Bauddha Shastra Charitram’, that is ‘The history of the teaching of the Buddhists’, which is nothing other than a Christian theological treatise. The Malayalam religious vocabulary of the Christians is often inherited from Buddhism. This raises the difficult question of how to recognise references to Christian communities in Hindu sources. Most probably, as far as pre-modern times are to be considered, one should analyse references to the ‘Buddhists’, which may or may not refer to Christian groups. The Bent Cross Oath was made on 3 January 1653. According to tradition the representatives of each important Syrian Christian family were holding a rope attached to a cross and swearing that they would have ‘no obedience, communion, or love with the Parangi’, that is, the Portuguese. The real story is more complex; see J. Kollaparambil, The Saint Thomas Christians’ Revolution in 1653, Kottayam: The Catholic Bishop’s House, 1981, especially pp. 138–41. This happened at Alangad on 22 May 1653. See ibid., pp. 147–8. See E. M. Philip, The Indian Church of St Thomas, first published Kottayam, 1908; 2nd edn by Kuriakose Corepiscopa Moolayil, Cheeranchira, Changanessery: Mar Addai Press, 2002, pp. 171–5. This late appearance of the West Syriac script is one of the findings of our thirteen-year fieldwork in Kerala. On this powerful clandestine movement within the Catholic fold see István Perczel, ‘Some New Documents on the Struggle of the Saint Thomas Christians to Maintain the Chaldean Rite and Jurisdiction’, in Peter Bruns and Heinz Otto Luthe (eds), Orientalia Christiana: Festschrift für Hubert Kaufhold zum 70. Geburtstag, Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 2013, pp. 347–68. See in the Appendix under A.1. Included in these numbers are approximately 150,000 Knanaya or Southist Christians, claiming to be descendants of fourthcentury Syrian migrant merchants. Another around 100,000 Knanaya Christians belong to the Jacobite Church. Traditionally, this community constitutes an endogamous caste. In principle a Catholic Knanaya Christian man can marry a Jacobite Knanaya bride but not a non-Knanaya (Northist) Catholic and vice

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19 20 21 22 23 24

25 26 27 28 29 30

31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40

41 42 43

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versa: a Jacobite Knanaya would marry a Catholic Knanaya rather than a Northist Jacobite. See in the Appendix, under A.2. For the history of this church see John Fenwick, The Forgotten Bishops: The Malabar Independent Syrian Church and its Place in the Story of the St Thomas Christians of South India, Piscataway, NJ: Gorgias Press, 2009. See Appendix, B.A.3. See Appendix, B.B.1. See Appendix, B.B.2. Lower estimate: http://nasrani.net/2007/02/13/population-statistics-demographysaint-thomas-christians-churches/#identifier_32_181; higher estimate: http:// www.syrianchurch.org/malankarachurch/default.htm (accessed 12 March 2013). See above, note 22. See Appendix, B.A.1 and B.A.2. See: http://www.cnewa.org/source-images/Roberson-eastcath-statistics/eastcatholic-stat12.pdf (accessed 12 March 2013) and also Appendix, B/C. See Zachariah, Syrian Christians of Kerala, and also The Hindu, 23 September 2004, Biju Govind. A District Collector is the administrative head of the district and is the representative of the State Government. S/he has full responsibility for the governance of the district, with all the various local government departments reporting to him/her. The District Collector referred to was Sri. S. Krishnakumar. He later went on to become a Minister of State in the Government of India. Interview conducted by M. P. Joseph with Bishop Mar Mathew Arackkal on 4 June 2012 at his office-cum-residence in Kanjirapally cathedral. Bishop Mar Mathew Arackkal is the Bishop of the Diocese of Kanjirapally, which is one of the richest dioceses in the state, being largely plantation country. The diocese also boasts of some of the most aristocratic Syrian Christian families in the state. Mr Ooman Chandy, Kerala’s Chief Minister, belongs to the Malankara Orthodox Syrian Faction of the St Thomas Christians. Mr K. M. Mani, Kerala’s Finance Minister, is a Syrian Catholic belonging to the Syro-Malabar Rite. Mr A. K. Antony, India’s Defence Minister, is also a Syrian Catholic belonging to the Syro-Malabar Rite. Interview conducted by M. P. Joseph with Bishop Mar Matthew Arackkal, 4 June 2012. Interview conducted by M. P. Joseph with Bishop Mar Bosco Puthur, Curia Bishop of the Syro-Malabar Rite of the Roman Catholic Church on 25 May 2012 at St Thomas Mount, Kakkanad, Kochi. Ibid. Ibid. Interview conducted by M. P. Joseph with Bishop Mar Mathew Arackkal, 4 June 2012. Ibid. The only Syro-Malabar diocese outside India is the Chicago diocese, with around 100,000 faithful in 23 parishes, 33 diocesan priests and 453 baptisms in 2012 (see: http://www.syromalabarchurch.in/syro-malabar-church-at-a-glance.php, based on Annuario Pontificio 2012) (accessed 12 March 2013). See: http://www.syrianchurch.org/bio/SyriacOrthodox/Metropolitans.htm (accessed 12 March 2013). See: http://malankaraorthodoxchurch.in/index.php?option=com_content&task= view&id=247&Itemid=424 (accessed 12 March 2013). Data cfrom http://marthoma.in/ (accessed 12 March 2013).

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44 These travelogues also shed light on Mar Aprem’s methods for keeping the spirit of his Church alive in the diaspora. Titles include: America Revisited (1977), From Bagdad to Chicago (1985), The Assyrians in Iraq (1990), London to Moscow (1993), Mesopotamia Light (1993), Two Trips in 2002: A Travelogue (2003), UAE via UK & USA (2005), Sharjah, Qatar & Brazil (2006), Chicago via Abu Dhabi (2010). The books are published in Thrissur by the author and can be ordered directly from him. See http://www.churchoftheeastindia.org/marapremmetropolitan.html (accessed 12 March 2013). 45 Interview conducted by M. P. Joseph with Bishop Mar Bosco Puthur, 25 May 2012. 46 Ibid. 47 The first communist government elected through an open full democratic suffrage in Kerala was short-lived and ended in 1959. 48 Gram panchayats are elected village councils. 49 The first communist government of 1957 was toppled in 1959 mainly by the Catholic Church in what they styled a ‘Liberation Movement’ and the president’s rule was imposed by the Federal Government on the state. 50 Interview conducted by M. P. Joseph with Bishop Mar Bosco Puthur, 25 May 2012. 51 Interview conducted by M. P. Joseph with Bishop Mar Mathew Arackkal, 4 June 2012. 52 Ibid. 53 Ibid. 54 Interview conducted by M. P. Joseph with Bishop Mar Bosco Puthur, 25 May 2012. 55 A now famous comment by Kerala’s Finance Minister, Mr K. M. Mani, who heads one of over half a dozen factions of the Kerala Congress Party, which itself splintered from the Indian National Congress Party in 1964. 56 See reports in The Hindu (Kerala edition): 29 July 2002 (http://www.hindu. com/2002/07/29/stories/2002072904290400.htm), 19 January 2006 (http://www. hindu.com/2006/01/19/stories/2006011905550500.htm), 12 September 2011 (http://www.thehindu.com/todays-paper/tp-national/tp-kerala/article2445996.ece) (accessed 12 March 2013). 57 Thus zealous Jacobites erased part of a historical inscription, reconstructed in István Perczel, ‘Classical Syriac as a Modern lingua franca in South India between 1600 and 2006’, ARAM Periodical, 2009, 21, Modern Syriac Literature, 289–321, here pp. 299–300. Also, when a family church at Kallada, founded by Syriac migrants in the ninth century, had been bequeathed to the Orthodox Church by the descendants of the founders, the Thulassery-Mannapurath tharavad, it was pulled down, a new concrete church was built and, ever since, the Church is claimed to have been founded by St Thomas. 58 Interview conducted by M. P. Joseph with Jose Ananthanam at his home in Kanjirapally on 19 May 2012. 59 Ibid. 60 Ibid. 61 Interview conducted by M. P. Joseph with Joseph Thevarcaud on 6 June 2012 at Villa No. 40, Choice Village, Tripunithura, Ernakulam. 62 Interview conducted by M. P. Joseph with Jose Anathanam, 19 May 2012. 63 Ibid. 64 Ibid. 65 Interview conducted by M. P. Joseph with Bishop Mar Bosco Puthur, 25 May 2012. 66 Ibid.

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67 See Placid J. Podipara, CMI, ‘Introduction’, in C. Th. Paremmakal, The Varthamanappusthakam. An Account of the History of the Malabar Church between the years 1773 and 1786. Rendered into English with an Introduction and Notes by Placid J. Podipara C.M.I., Orientalia Christiana Analecta 190, Rome: Pontificium Institutum Orientalium Studiorum, 1971, reprinted in Dr Thomas Kalayil CMI (ed.), Collected Works of Rev. Dr. Placid Podipara C.M.I., vol. 1, Mannanam, Kerala: Sanjos Publications, 2007, p. 439. 68 See Kollaparambil, Saint Thomas Christians’ Revolution, pp. 138–41. 69 On the circumstances of this event see I. Perczel and G. Kurukkoor: ‘A Malayalam Church History from the Eighteenth Century, based on Original Documents’, in D. Bumazhnov, E. Grypeou, T. Sailors and A. Toepel (eds), Bibel, Byzanz und Christlicher Orient: Festschrift für Stephen Gerö zur 65. Geburtstag, Leuven: Peeters, pp. 291–314. 70 See Podipara, ‘Introduction’, p. 437. 71 Data from personal experience and eye-witnessed by István Perczel during his fieldwork in Kerala. Together with Fr Ignatius Payyappilly, Founding Director of the Catholic Art Museum in Ernakulam, and photographer Fabian da Costa, he made a photographic documentation of the Alangad church on 16 October 2007 as well as of the Ramapuram church complex on 18 October 2007. They had known that the Ramapuram complex was going to be demolished but could not have imagined that the same could happen to Alangad, too. Some fragments of the original church decoration of Kallada are now in the Catholic Art Museum in Ernakulam. This museum, founded by Frc. Ignatius Payyappilly to save what still can be saved, harbours many invaluable works of art, rescued from demolished churches. For Kallada, see above, note 57. 72 Data from: http://www.syromalabarchurch.in/syro-malabar-church-diocese.php (accessed 12 March 2013). 73 Data from: http://www.syromalabarchurch.in/syro-malabar-church.php (accessed 12 March 2013). 74 Data from http://www.syromalabarchurch.in/syro-malabar-church-at-a-glance. php, based on Annuario Pontificio 2012 (accessed 12 March 2013). 75 The following data from http://www.churchoftheeastindia.org/parisheslist.html (accessed 12 March 2013). 76 Data provided by Mar Aprem Metropolitan. 77 Data from http://www.syrianchurch.org/bio/SyriacOrthodox/Metropolitans.htm (accessed 12 March 2013) and István Perczel’s fieldwork experience. 78 About the two jāti’s or castes of the St Thomas Christians, the Vadakkumbhagar and the Thekkumbhagar, see above, p. 566. 79 Data from http://www.syrianchurch.org/MalankaraChurch/DEFAULT.HTM (accessed 12 March 2013). 80 Data from http://malankaraorthodoxchurch.in/ (accessed 12 March 2013). 81 This number is given at: http://malankaraorthodoxchurch.in/index.php?option= com_content&task=view&id=122&Itemid=150 (accessed 12 March 2013). 82 At present two Metropolitans contend for the presidency over the Malabar Independent Syrian Church. In 2001 Joseph Mar Koorilose resigned on account of an illness and in his stead Cyril Mar Baselios was consecrated. However, as Mar Koorilose recovered from his illness, he claimed his function back, which has resulted in a schism and in ongoing court cases. 83 Lower estimate: http://nasrani.net/2007/02/13/population-statistics-demographysaint-thomas-christians-churches/#identifier_32_181; higher estimate: https:// en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Malabar_Independent_Syrian_Church. 84 Data from http://marthoma.in (accessed 12 March 2013). 85 Data from http://marthoma.in/overview (accessed 12 March 2013). 86 See: http://marthoma.in/overview (accessed 12 March 2013).

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87 See: http://nasrani.net/2007/02/13/population-statistics-demography-saint-thomas-christians-churches/#identifier_32_181 (accessed 12 March 2013). 88 A. P. Varghese, India: History, Religion, Vision and Contribution to the World, vol. 1, New Delhi: Atlantic Publishers, 2008, p. 381. 89 Data from http://marthoma.in (accessed 12 March 2013). 90 Lower estimate: http://nasrani.net/2007/02/13/population-statistics-demographysaint-thomas-christians-churches/#identifier_32_181; higher estimate: http://www. evangelicalchurch.info/churchhistory.html (accessed 12 March 2013). 91 Data from http://www.cnewa.org/source-images/Roberson-eastcath-statistics/eastcatholic-stat12.pdf (accessed 12 March 2013).

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Part III

The Holy Apostolic Catholic Assyrian Church of the East

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30 The Holy Apostolic Catholic Assyrian Church of the East Erica C. D. Hunter

The profile of the Assyrian Church of the East and its Uniate branch, the Chaldaean Church, has undergone monumental changes in the past twenty years as a result of the first Gulf War waged in 1991 and the Allied invasion of Iraq that took place in 2003. Both offensives have resulted in great loss of life and have precipitated the massive displacement of the congregations. The Assyrians and Chaldaeans now sport sizeable diaspora communities in other parts of the Middle East, particularly in Syria, as well as in the West: in Europe, Australia and North America. The new trajectories that were already being forged at the beginning of the twentieth century, as a result of the break-up of the Ottoman Empire, have gained momentum in the twenty-first century as the communities have responded to economic pressures, political turmoil and war. This impact has been felt particularly in Iraq. Whereas Christians in the late 1980s had constituted approximately 9 per cent of the Iraqi population (estimated at 20 million), the effects of sanctions in the 1990s coupled with the two Gulf Wars have led to a dramatic drop in numbers from an estimated 1.3 million in 2003 to between 300,000 and 400,000.1 Christians account for an estimated 40 per cent of all people fleeing Iraq to settle in diaspora communities. The Christian population in Syria has mushroomed following the arrival of thousands of Iraqi refugees, making demands on local resources, and with needs for housing, education and employment that are increasingly hard to meet in the escalating violence that has beset the country in the last few years. Displaced from their homeland, many refugees search for the stability and security that they see as only being available in the West. Paradoxically, events in the last decade have seen a return of some Assyrians and Chaldaeans to Kurdistan, a region from which many hailed in the early twentieth century before the vicissitudes of the Ottoman Empire forced them from their traditional homelands. Whilst the size of the Assyrian Church of the East’s communities in Iraq have waned, there is a massive growth of the Western diaspora now located in North America, Britain and Europe.

The Assyrian (and Ancient) Church of the East The Assyrian Church of the East was not included in the consultations sponsored by the Pro Oriente Foundation between 1971 and 1988.2 However,

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the ecumenical initiatives that took place in 1990 between the Patriarch of the Assyrian Church of the East, Mar Dinkha IV, and Mar Raphael Bidawid, the Chaldaean Patriarch led to new initiatives. In 1994, the ‘Common Christological Declaration’ by Mar Dinkha IV and Pope John Paul II put the erstwhile differences between the two churches into their ‘historical and linguistic perspective, admitting that failure of communication and ecclesiastical politics were to blame’.3 Regrettably, despite the accord that was established with the Roman Catholic Church, robust opposition, principally by the Coptic Orthodox Church, has continued to deny both branches of the Church of the East membership of the Middle Eastern Council of Churches. In October 1998, Pope Shenouda III, the late Patriarch of the Coptic Church presiding over the executive committee of the Middle Eastern Council of Churches, rejected the membership of the Assyrian Church of the East on the grounds of its adherence to the ‘Nestorian heresy’.4 Despite these setbacks, Mar Dinkha IV has laboured strenuously throughout his incumbency, actively promoting education of the clergy and bishops, many of whom now hold doctorates from major academic institutions. He has also striven to reconcile the schism between the Assyrian Church of the East and the Ancient Church of the East, which emerged in 1968. Although it has not been yet been resolved, there have been some significant developments. In 1995, a substantial portion of the Indian branch of the Ancient Church of the East, under the leadership of Mar Aprem, rejoined the Assyrian Church of the East.5 In January 2000, Mar Dinkha IV, accompanied by Mar Narsai, Metropolitan of Lebanon, Syria and Europe made a historic visit to the Indian Church.6 There have also been areas of growth within the traditional sees of the Assyrian Church of the East. In 2010, Mar Dinkha IV, accompanied by a metropolitan and five bishops, travelled to Iran to consecrate in Teheran, on the feast of the Finding of the Holy Cross, a new bishop for Iran, Mar Narsai Benyamin, who in turn, on 20 January 2012, ordained a new priest, Fr Addai Daniel in St Mary’s Church, Urmia.7 Established in opposition to the reforms introduced in 1964 by the erstwhile Patriarch of the Assyrian Church of the East, Mar Eshai Shimun XXIII (incumbency 1920–76), the Ancient Church of the East is divided into a number of archdioceses and dioceses within Iraq and in Europe, North America and Australasia, this distribution once again reflecting the dislocation and dispersal of the Assyrians. The patriarchate, which is based in Baghdad, is supported by archdioceses in Kirkuk and Nineveh (modern Mosul), as well as bishops in Baghdad and Dohuk who were consecrated in April 2009. Despite divergent points of view regarding some doctrinal matters, the Ancient Church of the East and the Assyrian Church of the East share a common ethno-linguistic heritage that differentiates them from other Iraqi Christian denominations in a number of ways. Most important is the linguistic dimension since they speak Sureth, i.e. vernacular dialects of Syriac, as their native tongue, whereas Arabic is the common language of the Chaldaeans, Syrian Orthodox and Syrian Catholic communities, with the usage of Syriac being

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reserved only for parts of the liturgy. The Assyrians essentially hailed from subsistence villages in the Hakkari region of Kurdistan, living alongside the Kurds, whereas the Syrian Orthodox, Syrian Catholic and Chaldaeans were settled in Mosul and the villages of the Mosul plain. The Assyrian Church of the East has a large diaspora, one that in terms of numbers probably surpasses the communities that still reside in Iraq. Metropolitan Mar Giwargis Sliwa, who is based in Baghdad, heads the archdiocese of Iraq and Russia; there is a church in Moscow. The diocese of Iran, with three churches and nine missions, is under the leadership of Mar Narsai Benyamin. The headquarters of Mar Dinkha IV, Patriarch of the Assyrian Church of the East, are in Chicago, USA, where there are also four other churches. Several other dioceses are located in North America, both in Canada and the United States where there are three archdioceses. In Europe, nine churches and three missions operate in Denmark, Norway, Sweden, Finland, England, Germany, Holland, France, Belgium, Austria and Greece under the leadership of Mar Odisho Oraham, who resides in Sweden. Perhaps the most vigorous growth area of the Assyrian Church of the East is in Australia and New Zealand, as many refugees have settled in these countries over the past couple of decades. The archdiocese of Australia, New Zealand and Lebanon is under the jurisdiction of Metropolitan Mar Meelis Zaia, who heads five parishes, with the Cathedral Church of Mar Hurmizd in Greenfield Park, a suburb of Sydney, having been built in 1990.8 The largest community of the Assyrian Church of the East is the Archdiocese of India, led by Metropolitan Mar Aprem who is based in Thrissur, Kerala. Consecrated bishop in Baghdad in 1968, he oversees twenty-four churches in Kerala and five churches outside Kerala, including one in New Delhi as well as a parish in the United Arab Emirates. The Assyrian Church of the East and the Ancient Church of the East have bases in London. The Ancient Church of the East worships in Ealing and is led by the Rev. Dr Khoshaba Malco Giwargis, whilst the Mart Maryam parish of the Assyrian Church of the East is under the aegis of Fr Tony E. Malham. Social activities for both congregations take place in the Assyrian Club, also located in Ealing. Apart from their doctrinal differences, on a lighter note, the groups identify themselves by various epithets: either the soft-drink ‘7Up’ or by the popular Iraqi dish ‘laHam ‘ajin’ (a baked lamb dish). ‘7Up’ refers to the Ancient Church of the East, which celebrates Christmas on the traditional date of 7 January, whereas ‘laHam ‘ajin’ refers to the Assyrian Church of the East, which celebrates Christmas on 25 December. ‘laHam ‘ajin’ was priced at 25p.9 Assyrians in London have formed a football club, FC Ealing Assyrians. The Assyrian Church of the East Relief Organisation (ACERO) based in London actively assists needy families in Iraq, Jordan and Syria by providing medication, fuel and food, in addition to housing, as well as an annual Christmas party for children. In the past few years, the charity has overseen the building of a set of apartments in Dohuk, Kurdistan to house thirty Assyrian families. In July 2012, ACERO launched a relief effort for the victims of the Krasnodar

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flood in Russia which had particular impact on the town of Krymsk, where more than 2,000 Assyrians reside.10

East Syrian monasticism The Assyrian Church of the East had a particularly rich monastic tradition, with hundreds of institutions dotting the north Mesopotamian landscape including the Monastery of Mar Gabriel and Mar Abraham in Mosul, better known as the Upper Monastery, founded in the early seventh century and in existence for about a thousand years.11 Of particular renown even today is the Monastery of Rabban Hormizd, north of Alqosh, near Mosul, that was named after its eponymous founder in the seventh century.12 Yohannan Sulaqa was a monk at Rabban Hormizd before he went to Rome to become the first Patriarch of the Chaldaean Catholic Church. Between 1551 and the eighteenth century the monastery became the official residence of the Eliya line of patriarchs, nine of whom (dates of burial range from 1497 to 1804) are interred at Rabban Hormizd.13 The eighteenth century saw the beginning of the monastery’s demise. Pestilence and attacks by the Kurds c. 1743, left Rabban Hormizd unmanned, but it was revived, under the aegis of the Chaldaean Catholic Church, in 1808 by Gabriel Dambo (1775–1832).14 In 1828 and again in 1868, the rich library of Rabban Hormizd was looted. Owing to further attacks on Rabban Hormizd in 1838 and in 1843, a new monastery, Our Lady of the Seeds, was founded in 1859 since its location, closer to Al Qosh, was thought to afford better security. Our Lady of the Seeds became the principal monastic institution of the Chaldaean Catholic Church, but in 1890, E. A. Wallis Budge reported there were still ten monks resident at Rabban Hormizd.15 In 1902, Addai Scher, the Chaldaean Archbishop of Siirt, who was murdered by Kurds in 1915, visited the library of Our Lady of the Seeds and published a checklist of its contents.16 In the last decade, thanks to the vicissitudes that have beset Iraq, the library has been moved for safekeeping, but Our Lady of the Seeds Monastery is still operational. The ancient tradition of East Syrian monasticism has declined in Iraq. Rabban Hormizd no longer is operating, but prior to 2003 the monastery was still visited by many Christians on pilgrimage, especially in the spring, around Easter. However, exciting new initiatives are taking place in the diaspora. In November 2012, Mar Awa Royel, Bishop of the Assyrian Church of the East (Diocese of California), tonsured two young men to form the nucleus of the Monastery of St Isaac of Nineveh in Salida, CA, this being the first such institution of the Church of the East in North America.17

The Chaldaean Catholic Church The Chaldaean Church has grown steadily, emerging as the largest and most influential Christian community in Iraq, accounting for some 70 per cent of the Christian population, estimated in 1998 to be 750,000.18 In contrast to the

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Assyrians, who cherished a nationalist vision of a homeland, the Chaldaeans, under the leadership of their patriarch, Emmanuel II Thomas (1900–47), surrendered any claims to political and territorial autonomy.19 Instead they attempted to integrate within the structure and society of the newly independent Iraq, and as John Healey states, ‘like the other Christians of Iraq and those of Syria, became loyal supporters of the state’.20 This situation was aided and abetted by the Chaldaeans being Arabic-speaking, rather than Sureth-speakers. Mar Emmanuel sat in the Iraqi Parliament until his death in 1947; a policy that was maintained by successive patriarchs in a bid to secure relative peace and stability for the Chaldaeans.21 Some Chaldaeans had senior roles in the Ba’athist government of Saddam Hussein, the most notable being Tariq Aziz, who was the Foreign Minister (1983–91) and Deputy Prime Minister (1979–2003). Although the Chaldaeans led relatively untrammelled lives under the Ba’athist regime, in the latter part of the twentieth century the community underwent major demographic changes. In the 1950s the Chaldaean Patriarchate relocated from Mosul to Baghdad, a city which was experiencing rapid expansion and economic growth that led to an urban shift across all sectors of Iraqi society. Suha Rassam details the extent of change in her statement, ‘in the census of 1957 more than half of the Christians were in Mosul, this was reversed in the census of 1977’.22 Apart from economic concerns, other factors also contributed to the growing Chaldaean population in Baghdad in the 1960s, particularly the outbreak of the Kurdish War as well as the emergence of the Communist Party. Both affected the Christian communities who had, for centuries, lived in villages in northern Iraq, leading them to take refuge in Baghdad.23 A large number of Christian villages in the north were also destroyed in the 1980s, as part of Saddam Hussein’s attempts to solve the ‘Kurdish problem’. Dispossessed and displaced, large numbers of Chaldaeans either moved to Mosul or went to Baghdad. Following the seizure of power on 17 July 1968 by Arab nationalists, the Chaldaeans were affected in several ways. Most critical was the decision taken to place all private schools within the state domain in accordance with Article 45 of the Ba’ath Party, which stated, ‘[t]eaching is one of the exclusive functions of the State’. While this was applied unilaterally to Muslim as well as Chaldaean institutions, the latter felt the full brunt as the Ba’athists considered that the education programmes run by Catholic institutions were tantamount to Westernisation and thus were contrary to the ideals of Arab nationalism.24 The closure of the Christian schools, which had been established by various Catholic orders since the mid-nineteenth century, had an impact far beyond the Chaldaean community, since in accepting students from all religious backgrounds these institutions had made major contributions to the nation’s calibre of education. Many Muslim government ministers had received tuition at these schools. In September 1968, the Ba’athists extended their decision to tertiary institutions, decreeing that the Jesuit-run al-Hikma University was to be placed

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under direct Iraqi administration and control. The Jesuit fathers were obliged to leave Iraq. In August 1969, the government took control of Baghdad College, another Jesuit institution; again the fathers were obliged to leave. By 1972 all private education was under the control of the state. The curricula and administration were run along secular lines. However, Christian religious education could be taught in schools, if it was requested by at least 25 per cent of the pupils.25 To counter these developments and to maintain religious education amongst their faithful, the churches rallied and began to organise classes in catechism and other subjects that were conducted out of hours. An Institute of Catechism, joined to the Babel College of Philosophy and Theology that was established in 1990–1, at Dora, Baghdad, serves to prepare catechism teachers.26 The expulsion of Catholic religious orders, including the Dominicans and Redemptorists as well as the Jesuits, affected the Chaldaeans. Only the Carmelites, who had first arrived in Baghdad in 1722, were permitted to remain. With the closure of the ‘Christian Cultural Club’ by the government in 1986, the Carmelites stepped into the breach and began a ‘fraternity for college students which concentrated on religious rather than cultural aspects of education’.27 Despite the secularisation of education, churches still received free electricity and there were no restrictions on displaying crosses or other Christian symbols in the public domain. The Ba’athist government often underwrote repairs to churches. Cultural events were encouraged, albeit with representatives of the government in attendance. At the enthronement of the Chaldaean Patriarch, Mar Raphael I Bidawid, at Dora in 1989 (a predominantly Christian suburb in Baghdad), an event that was attended by some 20,000–30,000 people (including the author) and bishops from all over the Chaldaean world, the largest floral tribute, from the Ba’ath Party, took pride of place in the centre of the stage. One could not do otherwise.

Initiatives during the incumbency of Mar Raphael (1989–2003) Mar Raphael I Bidawid developed the Chaldaean Church in various ways during his fourteen-year incumbency that largely coincided with the sanctions that were imposed on Iraq, as well as with the two Gulf Wars. He consolidated the directives of his predecessors, who had prudently established up to twentyfive separate churches in Baghdad during the growth period in the 1950s, rather than focusing on building a central cathedral in the capital city. The Iraq government granted permission for the publication of several journals: Al-fikr al-Masiḥi [Christian Thought’], devoted to religious matters, and Najm al-Mashriq [Star of the East], which first appeared in 1995 and was a review of the Chaldaean Patriarchate.28 The journal Bayn al-Nahrein [Mesopotamia] was first published in 1972 – and continues to appear. In keeping with its name, it publishes articles on the rich history of Mesopotamia and the traditions of the Eastern Churches.29 In 1990, Mar Raphael established the Babel College for Philosophy and Theology in Dora with the distinct aim

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of providing tertiary education for young men. Its four-year courses covered a range of Christian cultural, theological, and philosophical subjects and admitted students from all denominations. However, thanks to the ethnoreligious cleansing that swept through Dora in 2006, which forced most of its Christian inhabitants to flee their homes, the Babel College for Philosophy and Theology has had to be relocated north to Erbil in the Kurdish-controlled territories, from where it now operates. In addition to implementing educational initiatives, Mar Raphael set up the charity Caritas Iraq. This was in direct response to the great suffering that the sanctions caused for ordinary Iraqi citizens, who experienced real shortages of food and essential medicines. Caritas Iraq aims to help all Iraqis, irrespective of religion, in particular providing much-needed medical aid. This inter-faith dimension typifies the sound relations that existed between the Christian and Muslim populations of Iraq. Mar Raphael was also active in ecumenical and ecclesiastical matters, being the founder of the Council of Catholic Patriarchs and Bishops in Lebanon (his previous diocese had been in Beirut), the Council of the Catholic Bishops in Iraq and the Council of Christians in Iraq. He also represented the Catholic Church in the fourth General Assembly of the Council of Churches of the Middle East in Cyprus, where he advocated that the Chaldaean Church should become a member of this Council.30

The situation within Iraq 2003– Mar Raphael died in Beirut in July 2003. His elected successor was Mar Emmanuel III Delly, who was elevated to the patriarchate in December of the same year. In August 2004, he received a chilling, anonymous letter stating ‘we will kill you’ and accusing the Church of colluding with the US-led coalition forces in Iraq.31 The threat levelled at the Patriarch was not exceptional; many clergy have been kidnapped, some with tragic consequences. In 2008, gunmen kidnapped the Chaldaean Archbishop of Mosul, Paul Faraj Rahho, killing his two bodyguards in the process. His captors’ demands included a ransom of $3 million, the jizya (the poll tax levied for the ‘privilege’ of practising one’s faith) to be paid to fund the jihad and Iraqi Christians to form a militia to fight US forces. Monsignor Rahho, who is believed to have died of natural causes (high blood pressure and diabetes) as a result of the stress of being kidnapped and not having access to medication, was buried in a shallow grave near Mosul. The Iraqi Criminal Court sentenced to death one of perpetrators of the kidnapping, Ahmed Ali Ahmed, an Al-Qaeda cell leader in Iraq, but senior Chaldaean clergy have requested that this be commuted to life imprisonment.32 Since 2004 a total of seventy-one churches have been attacked or bombed, including forty-four in Baghdad and nineteen in Mosul.33 Multiple, coordinated attacks have often been levelled against churches that are seen as dens of evil, corruption, immorality and proselytism. In January 2005, the

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residence of the Chaldaean bishop in Mosul was destroyed. In September 2006, St Mary’s cathedral, seat of Mar Addai II, Patriarch of the Ancient Church of the East, was bombed. Located in the Riyadh district of Baghdad, the cathedral experienced dual bombings, a small device was followed, a few minutes later, by a car detonation carrying a large amount of explosives. The bombing was timed to take place as the worshippers were leaving the Sunday morning sermon.34 Two days later, a rocket attack was launched against the Chaldaean Catholic Church of the Holy Spirit in Mosul.35 In April 2007, armed militants firebombed the Church of St George in Dora, which had previously been bombed in 2004 and its cross forcibly removed.36 These are just isolated examples within the much larger pattern of violence targeting Christians that has extended across Iraq. Some of the oldest buildings in Iraq have been bombed. The ancient Church of St Thomas, dating from the eighth century, was targeted on Christmas Eve, 2009.37 In the last couple of years, the incidence of bombing has declined but has not ceased. On 16 September 2012, a bomb that was hidden in a bag exploded at the door of the Cathedral of Kirkuk, but fortunately caused only material damage. This bombing appears to have been response to a recently released film in the USA which was deemed blasphemous against Muhammad. It coincided with the visit of Pope Benedict XVI to Lebanon, where he conferred the apostolic exhortation Ecclesia in Medio Oriente upon the then Chaldaean Archbishop of Kirkuk, Louis Sako.38 Writing about the situation facing the communities, Sako, who was consecrated Patriarch of the Chaldaean Catholic Church in March 2013, states: Since 2005, Christians have become a specific target. Conditions are deteriorating at an increasing and alarming pace … the real fact remains of kidnappings, ransom, torture and executions. The reason for such attacks are various: not being Muslim, belonging to a Western religion, assimilation with the coalition forces, criminals looking for money, and the lack of an official position of Christians.39 The militants have not demurred from attacking convents and orphanages. In 2007, Shiites occupied the Angel Raphael Convent in Dora, belonging to the Chaldaean Sisters of the Sacred Heart, and turned it into a base for their military operations.40 On the Feast of the Epiphany on 6 January 2008, a concerted spate of bombings included the nunnery of the Chaldaean sisters in Zafaraniya, Baghdad, as well as the convent of the Dominican Sisters and the orphanage of the Chaldaean Sisters in Mosul.41 In November 2009, the Church of St Ephrem and St Theresa’s Dominican convent were bombed and heavily damaged.42 The repercussions of these deliberately orchestrated attacks on Christian life in Iraq have been massive. Churches have reduced their activities to the minimum, although many clergy remain redoubtable in the face of grave peril. Bishop Imad Al Banna, the acting Chaldaean

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Archbishop of Basra, remained in his see through the very difficult years between 2003 and 2008, continuing to minister to both Christians and Muslims alike.

Sees in the Chaldaean Church, within and without Iraq The Chaldaean patriarchal jurisdiction extends over some nineteen bishoprics, distributed both within Iraq and beyond. In Baghdad, there were two bishoprics of the ‘Curia of Babylon’. Archbishop Jacques Isaac is the Bishop of the Curia of Babylon and Titular Archbishop of Nisibis. The other bishop of the Curia is Bishop Shlemon Warduni, who is Titular Bishop of Anbar. Bishop Andraos Abouna (who had formerly served in London) was Bishop of the Curia of Babylon and Titular Bishop of Hirta until his death in 2010. There are six bishoprics in the northern regions: at Erbil, Zakho, Dehok, ‘Amadiya, Alqosh and ‘Aqra. Two archbishoprics are also located in the north, one being at Kirkuk, the ancient city of Karkha de Beit Selokh, which was already a metropolitanate seat in Sassanid times. The second is located at Mosul, where Emil Shimoun Nona was installed in November 2009. Fr Habib Jajou al-Naufaly, formerly Chaldaean priest in London, has just been appointed to the bishopric of Basra that had gone into abeyance following the rise of Muslim extremism in the south of Iraq. Chaldaean sees exist in most countries of the Middle East. Several are located in Iran, where the community numbers around 5,000. The archbishopric is based in Teheran, supported by two bishoprics: one in Urmia and Salmas, the second in Ahwaz, in the Arabic-speaking southwest province of Khuzistan that borders on the Shatt el-Arab. This is currently vacant. In Turkey, the Chaldaean archeparchy of Diyarbakir is also vacant, following the death of Archbishop Paul Karatash in 2005. François Yakan, in Istanbul, is acting in an interim capacity. Egypt, Syria and Lebanon each host a bishopric: Antony Audo is Bishop of Aleppo, Michael Kassarji is Bishop of Lebanon and Joseph Sarraf his counterpart in Cairo. There are also pastoral centres in Georgia and Jordan, the latter having some 20,000 parishioners, largely composed of refugees who have fled from Iraq.43 In the Western diaspora, pastoral centres are located in the United Kingdom, France, Denmark, Holland, Italy, Germany, Greece and Sweden. Australia hosts sizeable Chaldaean communities, that are estimated to be in excess of 30,000 individuals.44 Jibrail Kassab was inaugurated in 2006 as Archbishop of Sydney to serve the Chaldaean communities of Australia. He was originally Archbishop of Basra, but on account of the aforementioned difficulties, Pope Benedict XVI transferred him to his present post, the ‘Eparchy of Oceania’. Two bishops serve the large diaspora communities in the United States of America, covering the east and west coasts respectively. Ibrahim Ibrahim has been bishop of the eastern United States since 2001, his ‘western North American’ counterpart Sarhad Joseph Jammo was inaugurated a year later. To date, more than 200,000 Chaldaeans are thought to be

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resident in North America, making it, in the words of Anthony O’Mahony, ‘one of the most important diasporas of the Chaldaean Church’.45 On 9 May 2008 the Chaldaean diaspora was augmented when Mar Bawai Soro, together with his congregation of nearly 3,000 persons, was formally accepted into the Catholic diocese of St Peter the Apostle for Chaldaeans and Assyrians.46 The erstwhile Bishop of California was suspended from the Assyrian Church of the East regarding doctrinal matters, notably questions surrounding the primacy of the Pope.

Chaldaeans in London The links between the Chaldaean Church and Britain date back to the 1920s, when Patriarch Immanuel visited Britain to inform the authorities about the situation of his congregations in Iraq and Turkey as a result of the atrocities that they had experienced. By the 1950s small numbers of Chaldaeans had established themselves in London, mainly motivated by business or educational opportunities. This community remained fairly static until the 1980s, when the Iran–Iraq War (1980–8) precipitated an influx of refugees. In 1986, the Chaldaean Patriarch Paulos Cheikho appointed Fr Phillipe Najim as pastor, with mass being held at St Anne’s Roman Catholic Church in London. Subsequently, since 2001, he has been Procurator at Rome. In 1991, the late Fr Andraos Abouna was appointed by Mar Raphael to serve the Chaldaean community in London, a task which he performed until 2005. Ordained as a bishop in 2006 by Pope John Paul II in Rome, he returned to Baghdad to serve under Patriarch Emmanuel Delly III, but died after kidney surgery in 2010. The Chaldaean community in the United Kingdom is estimated to comprise several thousand parishioners, with approximately 400 families residing in London, the remainder being concentrated in Surrey and in Cardiff, Wales. Until 2014, they fell under the stewardship of Fr Habib Jajou al-Naufaly, who came to the United Kingdom in 2005 and held services every Sunday at a rented church in Acton, London. Plans to acquire charitable status for the Chaldaeans and to buy a property in this city for use as a ‘Chaldean Cultural Centre’ have been frustrated from lack of support, both from the Catholic Church in Britain and the Church of England, as well as the British government. Irrespective of these setbacks, Fr Habib pursued a very vigorous outreach programme that encompassed publications, social and sporting activities. Like the Assyrians, the Chaldaean Catholic Church also sports a youth football team. Fr Habib has turned his residence into a Cultural Centre, from where he published several magazines, Al-Qeethara [The Harp], a monthly religious and cultural magazine in Arabic and English (113 issues to date), and Mesopotamia, an English newsletter published bi-monthly (twenty-four issues to date). Additionally more than 2,300 CDs have been produced – mainly prayers and hymns both in English and Arabic. A very informative bi-lingual website (www.chaldean.org.uk) provides articles in English and Arabic.

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The Chaldaeans, as do all Iraqi Christian denominations, strive to maintain their culture, language and religion in the face of the pressures faced by living in the United Kingdom. One of the most critical effects of the dislocation and dispersal is that previously close-knit family structures have been shattered. Families are scattered, some members living in the United States, others in Australia or in the United Kingdom or in Syria and Kurdistan. Only a very few family members still remain in Iraq, mostly the old, the poor and the sick. Alongside the disintegration of the family unit, the negative effects of secularism impact on traditional values. Islamic extremists do exert physical threats on the Chaldaeans in Iraq, but more devastating and long-term effects may arise from the influences of Western ‘secular society’ that often contradict traditional norms and values. Additionally, for the Chaldaeans struggling to create a foothold in the United Kingdom, work commitments coupled with distance from family and friends are often very demanding. Nevertheless, the community maintains a strong sense of identity, and charities such as Iraqi Christians in Need (ICIN) actively fundraise to assist their brethren both in Iraq and in the Middle Eastern diaspora that is located mainly in Syria and Jordan.

Facing the future: the Assyrian and Chaldaean diaspora in Syria, Jordan and Kurdistan The high levels of violence that have been directed at the Christian communities mean that many have chosen to leave in what the Chaldaean Catholic Patriarch, Louis Raphael Sako I, calls a ‘mortal exodus’.47 More than half of the Christian population have left for the prospect of relative security elsewhere, believing that there is no future for them in Iraq. The latest wave of Christian refugees in Syria arrived in response to the violence that emerged in the lead-up to the elections in early 2010. Syria has given much assistance to these newcomers, in contrast to Turkey, which has not offered entry or assisted the refugees, despite the fact that many families formerly originated from its eastern territories, particularly the cities of Diyarbekir, Mardin and Midyat. However, since 2007 Jordan and Syria have begun to tighten their visa policies, making it increasingly harder for refugees to live there legally. Unable to secure residency or work permits many live in a state of limbo and increasing uncertainty. On 4 April 2012 Syrian authorities in Qamishli arrested five members of the Assyrian Freedom Party.48 With the present crisis in Syria, the refugees are caught in a truly perilous situation. Whither will they turn? In Iraq, some Chaldaeans and Assyrians have relocated to Kurdistan, in some cases returning to the villages from which their forefathers hailed a century ago. Whilst the Kurdish Regional Authority has returned some 40 per cent of the land at Zakho that was lost by Christians who fled persecution in the 1960s, much of the land is agriculturally inferior and difficult to irrigate.49 The Kurdish Regional Authority is keen to promote its policy of religious tolerance

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towards Christians and other minorities, but in practice there are hindrances to its full implementation. All individuals returning require a Kurdish sponsor before entry is permitted. Everyone is required to carry an ID card that states their religious identity. This has led, in some cases, to discrimination in employment, which is often denied on spurious grounds.50 There are also disturbing incidents of ‘grassroots’ violence. In December 2011, a campaign by Muslim extremists to close an ‘immodest’ beauty parlour in Zakho culminated in a mob of 3,000 men attacking Christian property and torching 20 shops, with damage estimated at around $5 million. Leaflets were put on the walls of the burned-out premises threatening the owners with death if they reopened their businesses.51 However, there have been new developments for Christians in Kurdistan. In 2005, the Assyrian Church of the East Patriarch, Mar Dinkha IV, conducted discussions with President Massound Barzani of Kurdistan on a visit to the Apostolic See in northern Iraq, where a new residence is under construction at Ankawa, a short drive from Erbil. Ankawa has seen a spectacular transformation from a village to a thriving, bustling city with many churches and has become a refuge for an estimated population of 40,000 Christians of various denominations, between a third and a half of the people now resident there having arrived in the last six years.52 In recent years there has been a robust cultural resurgence amongst the Assyrians and Chaldaeans, especially in the use of the Syriac language. Students are taught in Neo-Syriac, Surethspeaking television and radio stations, magazines and newspapers have also burgeoned. Various institutions have relocated: Babel College for Philosophy and Theology, which was formerly in Dora (the US forces used it as a military base until November 2008), and the Chaldaean seminary have moved to the relative security of Erbil. The demographic shift of a considerable percentage of the Christian population of Iraq to the north has resuscitated the debate of an Assyrian enclave that was earnestly discussed at the beginning of the twentieth century. Many Iraqi Christians remain unconvinced by the viability of this proposal, in contrast to its vigorous support amongst the diaspora communities in the West. As might be expected there are many different ideas, ranging from support for total independence (which few seem to advocate) to an autonomous governorate in the Nineveh Plains area to the north and east of Mosul, attached either to the Baghdad administration or to the KRG. Others speak more vaguely of a ‘safe haven’ for the Assyrians and other Christians although this raises many questions about the defence of such a safe haven and its purpose.53 The ‘safe haven’ for Christians has received support from the Assyrian Democratic Movement, which is represented in the Iraqi Parliament. The Kurdish regional Government has invested large sums of money in developing the Nineveh plains, a predominantly Christian enclave, but the Assyrian ‘homeland’ is a still controversial issue. As one young writer

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commented, ‘KRG officials are not angels, they are politicians, they do not do it because of the “black eyes” of Christians, they do it for votes and popularity.’54 The Kurdish authorities’ bolstering of the Christian population needs to be measured in the context of their campaign for full and permanent independence. In an apparent bid to counter the expansion of the Kurdish self-rule region, Iraq’s Shiite-led government announced in January 2014 that it had decided ‘in principle’ to create a new province in the Ninevah plain.55 Amnesty International’s report, ‘Iraq. Civilians under Fire’ (April 2010) pointed out that in the ‘disputed territories’ members of minority groups ‘are increasingly becoming pawns in a power struggle between an Arabdominated central government and the Kurdistan Regional Government’.56 The Christians are clearly caught in this situation, with responsibility for their well-being being shuttled between the Iraqi government and the Kurdish Regional Government. With no resolution in sight, the mantle of responsibility for supporting the Christians who have managed to relocate to the Kurdish Regional Government falls on the various churches, who do their utmost to help the faithful with their limited resources, drawn largely from donations made by various charities and the expatriate communities. Bashar Warda, the Chaldaean Archbishop of Erbil, has pointed out that Christians in the Kurdish Regional Government still lack economic security and are impoverished causing some women to resort to prostitution. Housing, food and health care is extremely expensive, with rental tariffs in Erbil on a par with London. There is no National Health Service, and whilst there are modern medical facilities and hospitals have been built, medical care is extremely expensive.

Conclusion The huge exodus of Assyrians and Chaldaeans, combined with the continuing threats of violence, albeit marginally less than in previous years, raises the genuine worry that the communities may not survive and that their unique culture and heritage will slowly disappear from Iraq. Unlike the Shia and Sunni, the Assyrian and Chaldaean communities do not have their own militias to defend them, nor do they consider that they receive effective protection or justice from the state authorities. They are often subjected to a pattern of official discrimination and marginalisation; a trend that is exacerbated by the communities’ declining numbers. Many Assyrians and Chaldaeans are not able to sustain themselves, lacking regular sources of income, employment opportunities and education. Within Iraq, Assyrians and Chaldaeans represent a disproportionate number of Internally Displaced Persons (IDPs). Neither the Kurdish Regional Government nor the central Iraqi government provides sufficient assistance. With a significant rise in hostile acts and riots within the KRG boundaries in 2011 compared to 2010, and coupled with their economic poverty, these circumstances cause many Assyrians and Chaldaeans to express the desire to emigrate.

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However, suggestions have been made for the patriarchate of the Assyrian Church of the East to relocate from its base in the USA. This has yet to be realised, but even its contemplation represents a significant development. The return of the patriarch, after nearly eighty years, would provide a powerful symbol for the Assyrians, anchoring the diaspora communities (now in the second and third generations) in the land of their origins, returning them to their ‘roots’. The creation of a ‘safehaven’ represents a cherished hope, particularly of those expatriate generations who have lived in the cultural exile of the West. Whether or not the long-held desire for a homeland does translate into reality is, at this stage, uncertain. Whether or not the creation of an enclave will ensure the survival of the Church of the East (and its Uniate branch) also remains to be seen.

Appendix The Holy Apostolic Catholic Assyrian Church of the East Diophysite Church that does not adhere to the Council of Chalcedon (451 CE). In dialogue with the Chaldean Catholic Church, the Syriac Orthodox Church and the Syrian Catholic Church, but not with the other Oriental Orthodox churches (especially the Coptic Church, which has blocked the membership of the Church of the East in the Middle East Council of Churches). 1

Religious leaders

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Mar Dinkha IV (Dinkha Khanania) (1935–), in office 1976–.

2

Biography

Title: Catholicos-Patriarch of the Holy Apostolic Catholic Assyrian Church of the East. Mar Dinkha IV (Dinkha Khanania) was consecrated in 1976 as Patriarch to the Apostolic See of Seleucia-Ctesiphon (Babylon) at Ealing, London. His headquarters are based in Chicago, USA, where there are also four other churches. Mar Dinkha was born at Darbandokeh, Iraq and received his early education under the tutelage of Mar Yousip Khananisho, metropolitan and patriarchal representative for all Iraq, who was second in the hierarchy of the Church of the East. In 1957 Mar Dinkha was appointed to minister in Urmia, Iran and in 1962 he moved to Tehran, where he established a seminary. 3

Congregations

Dioceses in North America: (1) Diocese of Canada ministered by Bishop Emmanuel Yosip, who was consecrated in 1990. The cathedral church is Mart

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Mariam Cathedral in Toronto, with 3 other parish churches in Ontario; (2) Diocese of the Eastern United States, with 9 churches overseen by Bishop Mar Paulus Benjamin; (3) Diocese of the Western United States, consisting of 6 churches and a mission is under the leadership of Bishop Mar Aprim Khamis, who was originally ordained in 1973 as Bishop of Basra, Iraq; (4) Diocese of California, with 6 churches in California and Seattle, overseen by Bishop Mar Awa Royel, who was consecrated in 2008. Diocese of Europe: overseen by Mar Odisho Oraham and consisting of 9 churches and 3 missions in Denmark, Norway, Sweden, Finland, England, Germany, Holland, France, Belgium, Austria and Greece. Diocese of Iran: under the leadership of Mar Narsai Benjamin, who was consecrated bishop by His Holiness, Mar Dinkha IV in 2010. Three churches and 9 missions. Archdiocese of Iraq and Russia: led by Metropolitan Mar Giwargis Sliwa, who is based in Baghdad. Divided into the Diocese of Baghdad that is currently led by Bishop Mar Sargis Yosip and the Diocese of Nohadra and Russia that is under the aegis of Bishop Mar Ishaq Yosip. There is a single parish church in Moscow. Archdiocese of India: led by Metropolitan Mar Aprem, is based in Thrissur, Kerala. He was consecrated bishop in Baghdad in 1968 and has 24 churches in Kerala serving about 30,000 faithful. There are 5 churches outside Kerala, including 1 in New Delhi, and a parish in the United Arab Emirates. Archdiocese of Australia, New Zealand and Lebanon: led by Metropolitan, Mar Meelis Zaia who, in 1984, was appointed bishop of the Church of the East’s diocese of Australia and New Zealand, the first to be established outside the Middle East. The 5 parishes in Sydney and its environs include the Cathedral Church of St Hurmizd, Greenfield Park, which was built in 1990; 1 parish church in Melbourne, 2 parish churches in New Zealand. St Hurmizd Assyrian Primary School provides education in Sydney for about 600 primary students. Secondary education is available through Mar Narsai Assyrian College, also established in Sydney (the first Assyrian high school). There are also plans for an Assyrian Medical Centre and a retirement village. Website: http://www.assyrianchurch.org.au. The 2006 Australian census registered 5,956 individuals, but these numbers have now increased following the arrival of new refugees from Iraq. The Assyrian Church of the East is estimated to have 400,000 adherents worldwide. The Ancient Assyrian Church of the East Separated from the Assyrian Church of the East in 1964 in opposition to reforms introduced by Patriarch Mar Eshai Shim’un XXIII, including the substitution of the Julian calendar by the Gregorian calendar. Mar Thoma Darmo was elected Catholicos-Patriarch but died on 7 September 1968 in Baghdad. The headquarters of the Church are in Baghdad.

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1

Religious leaders

•

Mar Addai II (Shimun Giwargis).

2

Biography

Title: Catholicos-Patriarch of the East. Mar Addai II (Shimun Giwargis), the Catholicos-Patriarch of the Ancient Assyrian Church of the East, was born in Iraq on 1 August 1950. He was consecrated on 20 February 1972 and resides in Baghdad. 3

Theological publications

Various online publications are listed the website: http://www.karozota.com. These are mainly translations into English of classic Syriac works. 4

Congregations

D I OC E SE S OF T HE A N C I EN T A SSY R I A N C H U RCH OF THE EAS T

Archdiocese of Kirkuk: under the jurisdiction of Metropolitan Mar Narsai Toma. Archdiocese of Mosul and northern Iraq: under the jurisdiction of Mar Toma Giwargis. Diocese of Baghdad: Mar Zaia Khoshaba was consecrated in April 2009. Diocese of Dohuk: Mar Aprem Daweed was consecrated in April 2009. Archdiocese of Germany and all Europe: led by Mar Timothaus Mar Shallita Youwala, who resides at Mainz. Archdiocese of Australia and New Zealand: under the jurisdiction of Mar Yacoub Daniel, supported by Mar Mari Emmanuel, Bishop of Australia and New Zealand, consecrated in August 2011. Diocese of California: led by Mar Daniel Yakob. London is under the leadership of Archpriest Dr Khoshaba Malco Giwargis. The Chaldean Catholic Church Uniate or Eastern Syriac particular church being formerly part of the Assyrian Church of the East but now in full communion with the Pope and the rest of the Catholic Church. The initial communion with Rome took place in 1553 under John Sulaqa. This line lasted until 1692, after which relations with Rome were severed. A second line of Chaldean Patriarchs in communion with Rome was the Diyarbakir line (1681–1828). The current line of Chaldean Patriarchs in communion with Rome was established in 1838. The Chaldaean Catholic Church is now the largest Christian denomination in Iraq and in the diaspora communities. 1

Religious leaders

•

Mar Raphael I Bidawid (1922–), in office 1989–2003

The Holy Apostolic Catholic Assyrian Church of the East • •

Mar Emmanuel III Delly (1927–), in office 2003–12 Louis Raphaël I Sako (1948–), in office 2013–.

2

Biography

617

Title: Chaldean Patriarch of Babylon. Louis Raphael I Sako was born on 4 July 1948 in Zakho, northern Iraq. He was enthroned as the new Patriarch of the Chaldean Catholic Church at St Joseph’s Church in central Baghdad, Iraq on Wednesday 6 March 2013. In 1974, he was ordained a priest for the Mosul eparchy, becoming the Archbishop of Kirkuk in 2002. In 2010 he was awarded the International Pax Christi award. He maintains an active dialogue with Muslim representatives in Iraq. 3

Congregations

DI O C E SE S OF T H E C H A LDA EA N C ATH O LI C C H U RCH

The Chaldaean Episcopate in Iraq (including Kurdistan): Shlemon Warduni, born at Batnaya, Iraq (24 April 1943), is Auxiliary Bishop of Baghdad (2001). Emil Shimoun Nona, born at Alqosh, Iraq (1 November 1967), was consecrated Archbishop of Mosul in November 2009, following the death of Paulos Faraj Rahho in 2008. Yousif Thoma Mirkis was consecrated Bishop of Kirkuk in 2014. Bashar Warda was consecrated Archbishop of Erbil/Ainkawa in July 2010. Mikha Pola Maqdassi was consecrated Bishop of Alqosh in December 2001. Rabban Al-Qas was consecrated Bishop of ‘Amadiya and Apostolic Administrator of Erbil in December 2001. Petros Hanna Issa al-Harboli was consecrated Bishop of Zakho in December 2001. The Chaldaean Catholic Metropolitan Archdiocese of Tehran: Ramzi Garmo, Archbishop of Teheran (February 1999), is the latest incumbent in the lineage of bishops that commenced with Girolamo Simeone Kashat, who was ordained in 1857. A church had been erected in 1853 at Sanandaj, in the northern regions of Iran, close to Kurdistan, but moved to the capital in 1944. In 1971 the name of the Archdiocese of Sehna was changed to Archdiocese of Tehran. Thomas Mayram, Archbishop of Urmia and Salmas, was consecrated in 1973. The Chaldaean Episcopate in the Middle East: Yaʿqob Ishaq, Bishop of the Curia of Babylon and Titular Archbishop of Nisibis (since December 2005). Antony Audo, Bishop of Aleppo (January 1992). Joseph Sarraf, Bishop of Cairo (1984). Michael Kassarji, Bishop of Lebanon (2001). The Chaldaean Catholic Mission in the United Kingdom: At present vacant following the elevation of Fr Habib Jajou al-Naufaly to the bishopric in Basra, Iraq. Approximately 400 families in London, the remainder being in Surrey and Cardiff, Wales. There is a vigorous outreach programme that encompasses publications, social and sporting activities, as well as a youth

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football team. Magazines published: (1) Al-Qeethara [The Harp], a monthly religious and cultural magazine in Arabic and English (113 issues to date); (2) Mesopotamia, an English newsletter published bi-monthly (24 issues to date). Additionally, more than 2,300 CDs have been produced – mainly prayers and hymns both in English and Arabic. A bi-lingual website (www.chaldean.org. uk) provides articles in English and Arabic. The Chaldaean Episcopate in North America: Ibrahim Ibrahim, Bishop of the Eastern United States, was consecrated April 1982. Eparchy of St Peter the Apostle under Sarhad Joseph Jammo, who was born in Baghdad on 14 March 1941. He was consecrated bishop in July 2002, after Pope John Paul II created a second diocese of the Church of the East in the United States, with the episcopal seat being at St Peter’s Chaldaean Catholic Cathedral in El Cajon, CA. Eparchy of Mar Addai was established in Toronto, Canada in June 2010 by Pope Benedict XVI and is headed by Mar Yohannan Zora, an ad personam Archbishop. Ordained in 1962, he worked in various Iraqi parishes before his transfer to Iran in 1969. The Chaldaean Episcopate in Oceania (Australia and New Zealand): Eparchy of St Thomas the Apostle was established in October 2006 in Sydney, Australia. Headed by Jibrail Kassab, the Chaldaean Bishop of Oceania, who was born at Tel Keppe, Iraq in 1938. In 1996 he was consecrated Archbishop of the Archeparchy of Basra by Mar Raphael I Bidawid. There are two churches, one in Sydney, the other in Melbourne. Size of congregations: approximately 500,000 faithful belong to the Chaldaean Catholic Church.

Notes 1 John Pontifex and John Newton (eds), Christians and the Struggle for Religious Freedom with Persecuted and Forgotten? 2012 Update, Sutton, Surrey: Aid to the Church in Need, 2012, p. 49. 2 J. F. Coakley, ‘The Church of the East: Life and Thought’, Bulletin of the John Rylands University Library of Manchester, 1996, 78 (3), p. 197. 3 J. Healey, ‘The Church of the East and its Chaldaean Branch’, in Eastern Christianity in the Modern Middle East, Anthony O’Mahony and Emma Loosley (eds), Abingdon and New York: Routledge, 2010, p. 43 and pp. 53–5 for a translation of this declaration. 4 Mar Aprem Mooken, The History of the Assyrian Church of the East in the Twentieth Century, Baker Hill, Kottayam: St. Ephrem Ecumenical Research Institute, 2003, p. 212. 5 W. Baum and D. Winkler, The Church of the East. A Concise History, London and New York: Routledge, 2003, p. 154. 6 Mar Aprem, History of the Assyrian Church, p. 191. 7 See: news.assyrianchurch.com/2012/03/12/h.g.-mar-narsai-ordains-young-priestin-iran (accessed 1 June 2013). 8 Mar Aprem, History of the Assyrian Church, p. 191. 9 Joshua Kassanis, personal communication to the author, December 2008. 10 See: news.assyrianchurch.org/2012/07/15/acero-launches-relief-effort-for-krasnodar-flood-victims/3930 (accessed 1 June 2013).

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11 S. Brock, ‘The Cultural Contribution of Monasticism in Iraq’, in The Christian Heritage of Iraq, Erica C. D. Hunter (ed.), Piscataway, NJ: Gorgias Press, 2009, pp. 73–4. 12 J. M. Fiey, Assyrie chrétienne, vols I–III, Beirut: Imprimerie Catholique, vol. II, 1965–8, pp. 533–48. 13 J-M. Vosté, ‘Les inscriptions de Rabban Hormizd et de Notre Dame des Semences, près d’Alqosh, Iraq’, Le Muséon, 1930, 43, 263–316. 14 He was murdered in 1832 by the soldiers of Mohammed Pasha, the Kurdish emir of Rawandouz, who was in rebellion against the Ottoman Empire. 15 E. A. W. Budge (ed.), The Histories of Rabban Hormizd the Persian and Rabban Bar-Idta, 2 vols, London: Luzac & Co., 1902. 16 A. Scher, ‘Notice sur les manuscrits syriaques conservés dans la bibliothèque du couvent des Chaldéens de Notre-Dame-des-Semances’, Journal Asiatique, 1910, 10 (7), 479–511; 10 (8), 55–82. 17 ‘Opening and dedication of new monastery of Mar Isaac of Nineveh’, http://www. news.assyrianchurch.org/2012/12/5 (accessed 1 June 2013). 18 Y. Habbi, ‘Christians in Iraq’, in Christian Communities in the Arab Middle East: The Challenge of the Future, Andrea Pacini (ed.), Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1998, p. 299. 19 Healey, ‘The Church of the East’, p. 46. 20 Ibid., p. 47. 21 C. Baumer, The Church of the East: An Illustrated History of Assyrian Christianity, London: IB Tauris, 2008, p. 266. 22 S. Rassam, Christianity in Iraq. Its Origins and Development to the Present Day, Leominster: Gracewing, 2010, p. 153. 23 Habbi, ‘Christians in Iraq’, p. 299. 24 Rassam, Christianity in Iraq, p. 150. 25 Habbi, ‘Christians in Iraq’, pp. 300–1. 26 Ibid., p. 301. 27 Rassam, Christianity in Iraq, p. 152. 28 Habbi, ‘Christians in Iraq’, p. 301. 29 Ibid., p. 300. 30 Rassam, Christianity in Iraq, 172. 31 Ibid., 188. 32 ‘Iraqi bishops oppose execution of prelate’s convicted killer’, http://www.catholicculture.org/news/features/index.cfm?recnum=58530 (accessed 1 June 2013). 33 Pontifex and Newton (eds), Christians and the Struggle for Religious Freedom, p. 48. Rassam, Christianity in Iraq, pp. 242–4, for a listing covering 2004–9. 34 ‘Assyrian church bombed in Baghdad; 2 dead 25 injured’, http://www.aina.org. news/20060924135137.htm (accessed 1 June 2013). 35 ‘Second attack in three days against a Chaldean church in Iraq’, http://www.aina. org.news/20060926112353.htm (accessed 1 June 2013). 36 ‘Muslims burn Assyrian church in Baghdad’, http://www.aina.org.news/20070518 182239.htm (accessed 1 June 2013). 37 ‘Mosul attacks on two Christian churches, two dead and several injured’, 23 December 2009, http://www.asianews.it/index.php?l (accessed 1 June 2013). 38 ‘Chaldean Church Bombed in North Iraq’, http://www.aina.org.news/20120 922121005.htm (accessed 1 June 2013). 39 L. Sako, ‘Foreword: Iraqi Christians Should Remain in the Land to Uphold their Millennial Multi-heritage’, in The Christian Heritage of Iraq, Hunter (ed.), p. ix. 40 ‘Terrorists occupy and sack a convent’, http://www.aina.org.news/20070601151953. htm (accessed 1 June 2013).

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41 ‘One person injured in Iraq church bombings’, http://www.aina.org.news/2008010 6162040.htm (accessed 1 June 2013). 42 ‘Iraq attacks hit Christian sites’, http://www.aina.org.news/20091126150149.htm (accessed 1 June 2013). 43 Anthony O’Mahony, ‘Patriarchs and Politics: The Chaldaean Catholic Church in Modern Iraq’, in Christianity in the Middle East. Studies in Modern History, Theology and Politics, Anthony O’Mahony (ed.), London, Melisande, 2008, p. 126. 44 Anthony O’Mahony, ‘Christianity in Iraq: Modern History, Theology, Dialogue and Politics (until 2003)’, in The Christian Heritage of Iraq, Hunter (ed.), p. 263. 45 O’Mahony, ‘Patriarchs and Politics’, p. 126. 46 Stephen Mirmarchi, ‘3,000 new Catholics, bishop’s Assyrian flock now in communion with Rome’, National Catholic Register, 3 June 2008, http://www.ncregister. com/site/article/3000_new_catholics/ (accessed 1 June 2013). 47 Sako, ‘Foreword: Iraqi Christians’, p. x. 48 ‘14 Assyrians arrested in Syria’, 4 June 2012, http://www.aina.org/news/2012040 6130549.pdf (accessed 1 June 2013). 49 Pontifex and Newton (eds), Christians and the Struggle for Religious Freedom, p. 49. 50 Ibid. 51 Ibid., p. 51. 52 A. Ashton, ‘Iraq’s Assyrian Christians Find temporary home in Kurdish north’, http://www.aina.org/news/20090805174436.htm (accessed 1 June 2013). 53 Healey, ‘The Church of the East’, p. 52. 54 See: http://www.aina.org, 5 August 2009 (accessed 1 June 2013). 55 Sameer N. Yacoub, ‘Iraq says that it intends to make 3 new provinces’, Associated Press (January 21, 2014) http://news.yahoo.com/iraq-says-intends-3-provinces144531775.html. 56 Iraq Civilians under Fire, Amnesty International, April 2010, Index: MDE 14/002/2010, p. 16.

Part IV

Greek Catholic churches in Eastern Europe

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31 The Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church Natalia Shlikhta

According to the official Vatican estimates for 2010, the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church comprises 3,856 parishes served by 2,784 secular priests and 437 religious priests. Additionally, the body of the Church consists of 939 monks, 1,526 nuns, and 633 seminarists.1 Statistics provided by the State Department for Religious Affairs in Ukraine as for 1 January 2010 differ slightly: 3,765 religious communities possessing 3,581 churches, served by 2,303 priests; 106 monasteries with 1,250 monks and nuns; 15 theological schools with 1,539 seminarists.2 Regardless of such minor inconsistencies, both sources agree that the Church, which came into existence as a result of the 1596 Union of Brześć and received its present name in 1774 thanks to the Habsburg empress Maria Theresa, is the largest Eastern Catholic Church in the world serving the needs of approximately 5.5 million faithful in Ukraine and outside its borders.3 A dramatic story of the Church, which through its history had to carry out its mission in more or less hostile ecclesiastical and political environments (a largely tolerant Habsburg rule being the only exception) and/but managed to assert itself as a Ukrainian national church, is told in many thousands studies by authors of various national and confessional origins who write with a different degree of empathy towards the object of their study. This chapter outlines major developments and characteristic features of the Church through its four-century-long history and focuses in detail on its experiences under the Soviet rule.

The Union of Brześć: preconditions and consequences The Uniate Church in the Ukrainian lands came into existence as a result of the 1596 Union of Brześć, which declared a change in the jurisdiction of the Kyivan metropolia from Constantinople to Rome with the preservation of the indigenous – Eastern (Byzantine) – rite.4 The original name of this Church – Uniate (uniatska) – is not used by contemporary Greek Catholics as selfreference or by scholars, except for those who take an openly anti-Uniate stand in discussions over the Church’s history and present.5 To name the Church in the period before the late eighteenth century, contemporary Ukrainian

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historians use the term ‘uniina’, which does not have a corresponding English form yet. Confessional Greek Catholic historiography sees the origins of the Church in the very circumstances of the spreading of Christianity in the Ukrainian lands. Even though the Kyivan Rus had belonged to Eastern Christendom since its Christianisation by St Vladimir the Great in 988, the newly established Kyivan metropolia has always preserved a certain degree of autonomy from Constantinople, and has always been open to contacts and influences coming from Rome.6 Because of this ecclesiastical particularity – largely conditioned by the geopolitical position of the Ukrainian lands ‘in between East and West’ – historians claim, the hierarchy of the Kyivan Church traditionally supported all the ‘uniate’ initiatives aimed at the re-establishment of the unity of the Christian Church.7 Its delegates took an active part in the Councils of Lyons (1245), Constance (1418) and of Florence (1439); the last, declaring the Union between the Western and Eastern Christian churches, was supported by one part of the Kyivan hierarchy (the original and future Kyivan metropolia within the territories of the Grand Duchy of Lithuania and the Polish Kingdom, since 1569 of the Polish–Lithuanian Commonwealth) and rejected by the other (the future self-proclaimed Moscow metropolia, since 1589 Moscow Patriarchate). Despite such favourable preconditions and all the advantages of the Union with Rome for the Kyivan Church, then in a deep crisis (affected by a general crisis of Eastern Christendom after the Fall of Constantinople in 1453 and discriminatory policies towards the Eastern-rite Christians on the part of the Polish authorities, especially after the decisions of the Council of Trent, 1545–63), it was originally supported by only part of the hierarchy and rejected by the majority of the clergy and laity. An important reason for this was popular conservatism, the rejection of any change in traditional daily life, as, for instance, acute disputes over the church calendar testified.8 One historical paradox, of which there are many, is that the ‘traditional’ Greek Catholic terrains of the present Western Ukraine were the last to accept the Union: Przemyśl diocese in 1691, Lviv diocese in 1700 and Lutsk diocese in 1702. The first two centuries of the Uniina Church’s existence were amongst the most turbulent in its history. The Union with Rome did not realise the hopes pinned on it. The Church that meant to unite all the Christians of the Polish–Lithuanian Commonwealth only divided the population of the present Ukrainian lands. Unofficially after 1620, when the new Orthodox hierarchy was secretly ordained by Theophan III, Patriarch of Jerusalem, and officially after the state recognition of this hierarchy in 1632, the Kyivan metropolia was divided into two parts: the Kyivan (Uniina) Church and the Kyivan (Orthodox) Church.9 Similarly, the Church did not manage to become an effective instrument raising the social and economic status of its adherents. The Uniate hierarchy did not receive equal status and privileges with the Catholic hierarchy, as was provisioned in the decisions of the Union of Brześć. Uniates remained

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second-rate citizens of the state. The Union with Rome did not become a barrier to Latinisation of the population with the progress of the CounterReformation. Because of these reasons, the Union did not appear attractive to the nobility – szlachta and magnates – who converted to Catholicism or, in some cases, to Protestantism instead and thus confessionally separated from their subjects, who were either Orthodox or Uniates. This deprived the Ukrainians of their elite, the most fateful consequences of which became obvious in the period of modern nation-building in the nineteenth century. The Uniina Church was negatively viewed both by the Vatican and especially the Catholic Church in the Rzeczpospolita, which considered it but an obstacle to the spread of Catholic influence to the East, and by a larger part of the population of the Ukrainian lands seeing it (1) as a novelty that was undermining their traditional life and (2) as an instrument of forced Latinisation in the interests of Rome and the Polish authorities. It is thus not unexpected that the newly emerged elite – Ukrainian Cossacks – positioned themselves as ‘defenders of Orthodoxy’ and that their struggle in the mid-seventeenth century against the ‘Polish oppression’, led by Hetman Bohdan Khmelnytsky, was also against the ‘Unia’.

Towards becoming a national church of the Ukrainian people As a result of the so-called first partition of Poland of 1772, the Ukrainian territories of the Rzeczpospolita were divided between two empires: Romanov and Habsburg. The fate of the Uniina Church in the Russian Empire was decided long before this event, when the idea of ‘[Orthodox] Moscow as the Third Rome’ became a cornerstone for the legitimisation of the Romanovs’ policy of ‘sobiranie russkikh zemel’ (collection of the Russian lands).10 The last Kyivan Uniate metropolitan died in St Petersburg in 1805. In 1839 the Unia was liquidated in the Ukrainian lands under imperial rule as a result of the ‘self-liquidation’ proclaimed by the Council of Polotsk (the Council itself was used as a precedent for the legitimisation of the Lviv Council more than a hundred years later). In 1875 the final remnants of the Uniina Church were liquidated in the Chełm diocese.11 The fate of the Uniiina Church in the Habsburg partition of Poland – Eastern Galicia – differed considerably. It is thanks to the Enlightenment reforms by the Habsburg emperors Maria Theresa and Joseph II that a qualitatively new period in the life of the Church began: when it was inseparably identified with the Ukrainians in Galicia in national, social and confessional terms and when the Greek Catholic clergy became chief promoters of Ukrainian nation-building. In June 1774 Maria Theresa declared her ambition to ‘end everything that forced Uniates to consider themselves second-rate in comparison with Roman Catholics’, the first step being a July decree forbidding the official use of the term ‘Uniate’ and replacing it with ‘Greek Catholic’.12 This empress’s ambition and Joseph II’s subsequent reforms (raising the social and economic

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status of the Greek Catholic parish clergy, establishment of Greek Catholic theological schools and finally the re-establishment of the Galician (former Kyivan) metropolia in 1807) were conditioned by their Enlightenment pragmatism: the desire to subject the Roman Catholic Church to the imperial throne and create a counterforce to Polish irredentism in Galicia. The reforms achieved their primary aim: Galician Greek Catholics became the most loyal subjects of the Habsburg emperors and the chief opponents of the Polish national movement, especially after the turning point of the 1848–9 Spring of Nations. The reforms also gave an impetus to the process that their authors could not envisage or aspire to. On the one hand, Greek Catholic priests formally received equal rights and status with the Roman Catholic clergy and access to education, including a higher secular one. On the other hand, the patterns of their daily life changed little because discrimination from the Polish – Roman Catholic – elite continued, and their material conditions improved little and differed little from those of their flock – poor Galician peasants.13 The result was more or less obvious in the era of nation-building: the nineteenth-century history of the Greek Catholic Church became an integral part of the ‘Ukrainian Risorgimento’ in Eastern Galicia. As students of national studies show us, these were Greek Catholic priests who in the 1830s–1890s fulfilled a major role as agents of modern Ukrainian nation creation.14 Often sacrificing their primary spiritual mission, the Greek Catholic clergy were authors of the first Ukrainian grammar-books and newspapers, active participants in the Spring of Nations, organisers of cooperatives and ‘Prosvita-s’ in the village since the 1860s and political figures participating in the organs of power at all levels, from village uprava-s to the Vienna Parliament.15 The inseparable linkage between the Greek Catholic Church and the Ukrainian population in Galicia formed over the second half of the nineteenth century was only reinforced during the interwar period when in the revived Polish state the Ukrainians once again found themselves in the position of a discriminated-against national and confessional minority. Greek Catholic priests then took an active part in Ukrainian nationalist organisations – from the Ukrainian National Democratic Union (UNDO according to the Ukrainian abbreviation) to the Organisation of Ukrainian Nationalists (OUN) – and the Ukrainian nationalist movement, even though largely secular, often appealed to the authority of the Greek Catholic Church and primarily of its charismatic leader – Metropolitan Andrei Sheptytsky (1901–44). It is impossible to write even a sketch history of the Church without mentioning the name of the metropolitan who was its leader for almost half a century, during which the West Ukrainian lands were still part of the declining Habsburg Empire, the arena of two world wars and the territory occupied consecutively by the Polish, the Soviet authorities and the Nazis. Metropolitan Sheptytsky, who was commonly viewed as a national leader (and accused of being the ‘leader of Ukrainian nationalists’ by all the occupying powers), actively opposed the process of the Church’s transformation into a largely

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secular national organisation, urging his clergy to primarily carry their spiritual mission and only then – as private persons and not representatives of the Church – to participate in the Ukrainian national movement. Metropolitan Sheptytsky’s name became the byword for one devoted to charitable activities and patronage of the arts and education. The Metropolitan promoted a new ‘uniate’ idea of the re-establishment of the unity of a national church in Ukraine, of a common Kyiv Patriarchate for Orthodox and Greek Catholics.16 His ecumenical vision and humanistic ideals revealed themselves during the Second World War when he openly protested against the Holocaust and privately rescued many hundreds of Jews.17 The Metropolitan died on 1 November 1944. The Soviet authorities who ‘liberated’ or ‘occupied’ (as various interpretations put this) Western Ukraine soon afterwards were to meet and have dealings with a Church that was strong organisationally and socially and whose spiritual, moral and national authority, thanks to his activities, was unshakable amongst the population of Galicia.

‘Non-existent’ church in the Soviet state On 8–10 March 1946 the Council of the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church was convened in Lviv on the initiative and under the pressure of the Soviet atheist authorities. Formally led by the so-called Sponsoring Group for the Reunion of the Greek Catholic Church with the Russian Orthodox Church, which was headed by Fr Havryil Kostelnyk and recently ordained Orthodox bishops, converts from Greek Catholicism, Mykhail (Melnyk) and Antonii (Pelvetsky), the Council declared the ‘unanimous willingness’ of the faithful of this Church in Galicia to ‘liquidate the Unia, to break all the ties with the Vatican and return to the Holy Orthodox faith of our ancestors and the Russian Orthodox Church’.18 In three years, the Unia was liquidated in Zakarpatska Oblast (Transcarpathian Ukraine). This time it was accomplished without any formal ‘self-liquidation Council’ during the celebration of the feast of the Assumption (28 August 1949) that took place in St Nicolas’s convent in Mukachevo. In a message that day, Archbishop Makarii (Oksiiuk) of the Lviv-Ternopil and Mukachevo-Uzhhorod dioceses assessed the historical significance of this event: ‘A blessed time has finally come when the Unia with Rome is liquidated on the whole territory of our Rus-Ukraine, which is Orthodox since time immemorial.’19 Such a formal liquidation of the Greek Catholic Church in Ukraine was preceded by the large-scale operation of the National Committee of State Security (NKDB), including widespread arrests and harassments of Greek Catholic clergy, monks and nuns.20 On the culminating night of 11/12 April 1945 the Church was deprived of its hierarchy, as security organs arrested Metropolitan Iosyf Slipyi, bishops Mykyta Budka, Mykola Charnetsky, Hryhorii Khomyshyn and Ivan Liatyshevsky, together with many prominent Greek Catholic priests and lay activists. The result of these actions, as Myroslav

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Tataryn concludes, was that, ‘A church with ten bishops, 3,470 clergy, 1,090 nuns and over four million faithful became the largest illegal Christian community in the world. For almost forty-five years Greek Catholics were forced to hide their religious convictions, or feign Orthodoxy, or endure arrest, fines, even imprisonment.’21 Vasyl Markus proposes to distinguish between two modes of survival of Greek Catholics through the Soviet period: as the ‘Church within the Church’ – those West Ukrainian faithful and clergy who ‘reunited’ with the Russian Orthodox Church – and in the form of ‘marginal religious communities’ or the ‘catacomb’ Church.22 Elaborating on his concept of the ‘Church within the Church’,23 this chapter uses it as synonymous to the ‘reunited’ community whose various members (laity, clergy and episcopate), regardless of the sincerity and motives of their conversion, were inseparably linked to one another by the awareness of their distinctiveness from the Russian Orthodox Church and a common desire to survive Moscow’s effort at unification. Statistical data help us to appreciate the consequences of the Church’s liquidation and the resulting alteration of the ecclesiastical situation in the Ukrainian Exarchate of the Russian Orthodox Church. The Russian Orthodox Church, according to official documents, acquired 3,289 new parishes and considerably strengthened its cadres, as 1,296 Greek Catholic priests pledged allegiance to the Patriarch of Moscow and All Rus.24 In 1950, the first year after the Greek Catholic Church in Ukraine officially ceased to exist, the ‘reunited’ parishes formed approximately one quarter of all the Orthodox parishes (13,740 church buildings) and the ‘reunited’ clergy accounted for 11.5 per cent out of 11,222 priests of the Moscow Patriarchate. Western Ukraine, whose population constituted just a tiny part of the Ukrainian population, unexpectedly became the ‘bulwark of Orthodoxy’ in the Ukrainian Republic, providing the Ukrainian Exarchate with 40 per cent of its church infrastructure (8,833 churches) and one fifth of its 6,348 priests.25 Additional statistics indicating numbers of ‘reunited’ and ‘catacomb’ priests and churches for each oblast are provided in Table 31.1. Despite its numerical strength and institutional potential, the West Ukrainian ‘reunited’ community has never been the focus of the study of the Greek Catholic Church under Soviet rule. Scholars invariably pay primary attention to the activities of the ‘catacomb’ Church, writing a dramatic story of the ‘Church of martyrs’ and accentuating its contribution to the preservation of the Catholic faith through the Soviet period enabling the eventual re-emergence of the Greek Catholic Church in independent Ukraine. Such scholarly interest is predictable given the concern of contemporary historiography with ‘overt protest/resistance’ and a restrained attitude towards those forms of survival ‘under unfavourable circumstances’, which fall within James Scott’s notions of ‘calculated conformity’ and ‘cautious/routine resistance’.26 The dominant historiographic thinking largely determines the scholarly view of the clandestine activities of the ‘catacomb’ Church as the only obstacle to the establishment of Moscow’s hegemony in Western Ukraine.

681 822 696 691 541 3,431

Lvivska Ternopilska Stanislavska Drohobytska Zakarpatska Total

Source: GARF, F. 6991, O. 2, File 256, p. 1.

Uniate churches prior to 1946

Oblasts

617 805 648 641 511 3,222

Registered Orthodox churches

29 – 18 20 – 67

Nonregistered Orthodox churches 5 – 13 – – 18

Nonregistered Uniate churches

Table 31.1 The church network in Western and Transcarpathian Ukraine, 1959

30 17 17 30 – 98

Nonfunctioning churches

409 372 304 252 304 1,643

Former Uniate priests

305 332 237 226 196 1,296

‘Reunited’ clergy

104 (27) 40 (13) 69 (16) 26 (9) 108 (26) 347 (91)

Non-registered clergy (active catacomb priests)

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However, scholars cannot ignore the ‘reunited’ community altogether, primarily because of its numerical strength. As little research has been done so far on the ‘reunited’ community, an oversimplified image of this community emerges in the majority of studies of the field. Those Greek Catholics who converted to Orthodoxy are depicted either as those who compromised their faith and resigned themselves to a hostile regime or as those who remained faithful to the Holy See and ‘employ[ed] this Church [i.e. the Russian Orthodox Church] as an institutional framework for continued covert Uniate activities’.27 These opposite estimates are similar in that they overlook a complex composition of the ‘reunited’ community and depict it in such a manner that it falls within the conventional ‘compromises’ – ‘resistance’ opposition. Scholars operate with several notions enabling them to argue that those who converted ‘were virtually all Greek Catholics’. The ‘reunited’ community is called a ‘crypto-Uniate community’ (Bociurkiw, Kolarz), ‘involuntary converts’ (Bociurkiw), or ‘Uniate congregations in disguise’ (Chadwick).28 Notwithstanding such favourable evaluations, the role of the ‘reunited’ community in opposing Moscow’s assimilatory plans regarding Galicians remains underestimated. This chapter focusing primarily on the experiences of the ‘reunited’ community will partly fill this unfortunate gap in scholarly knowledge of the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church under Soviet rule. It starts with a brief discussion of the reasons and essence of ‘reunification’ as seen from above – by Moscow’s secular and ecclesiastical authorities – and from below – by West Ukrainian Christians. It examines perceptions and daily practices of the ‘reunited’ community enabling the preservation of traditional Greek Catholic ritual, practices, and of the institutional framework providing grounds for the revival of the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church in the 1990s.

Moscow authorities’ ambitions29 When discussing the role of state authorities in the liquidation of the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church, Bohdan Bociurkiw focuses on the ‘embarrassment’ experienced by an atheist state that employed its organs as ‘part-time ‘missionaries’ for the Russian Orthodox Church’.30 Bociurkiw suggests that there were immediate political benefits from such a line of action – liquidation of the Greek Catholic Church in cooperation with the Moscow Patriarchate – that could ‘outweigh the long-range ideological considerations’ of communist authorities and the ‘embarrassment’ from this cooperation.31 The question of those ‘immediate political benefits’ for the Soviet state has for decades been in the focus of scholarly debate. Some unorthodox assumptions have been put forth, as for instance, that the regime mounted the attack on the Greek Catholic Church to ‘reward’ the Russian Orthodox Church for its wartime patriotic activities (Stehle) or to secure its support in the future (Chadwick).32 Mostly, scholars either examine the liquidation of the Church within the anti-Vatican objective of Soviet foreign

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policy33 or within the regime’s struggle against Ukrainian nationalism, of which the Greek Catholic Church in Galicia had been considered the embodiment ever since the nineteenth century.34 In addition to the anti-Vatican objective and considerations of official ecclesiastical-nationalities policy,35 providing the regime with political benefits sufficient to outweigh the embarrassing implications from cooperation with the Russian Orthodox Church, there was yet another important reason, which is seldom articulated by scholars writing in the field. The reason was the political philosophy of the Greek Catholic Church. As a part of the universal church, it a priori adhered to the idea of the separation of church and state.36 As has been highlighted in these pages, historically the Church functioned within various hostile ecclesiastical and political settings and therefore it used to perceive itself as an embodiment of religious and sociopolitical identities distinct from those that were dominant. Finally, a powerful image of the Greek Catholic Church as a socially active church counting on the steadfast adherence of the overwhelming majority of the population in Galicia – shaped primarily by the activities of Metropolitan Andrei Sheptytsky – was an additional important reason for the regime’s resolution to liquidate it. Cooperation between the communist regime and the Moscow Patriarchate in the liquidation of another church appeared less ‘embarrassing’ in the post1943 atmosphere of state–church rapprochement than it would be under any other circumstance. As Bociurkiw asserts, the ideological incompatibility of the Stalinist regime and the Russian national church was ‘overshadowed by their joint identification with the traditional Russian interest’.37 Hostility to the Unia and Ukrainian nationalism was a distinctive feature of this ‘Russian national interest’. Hence, the liquidation of the Unia in Western Ukraine was a task forced upon Stalin ever since his ‘Great Retreat from communism’ in the mid-1930s.38 This assumption is developed by Bociurkiw, who views the ecclesiastical-nationalities policy of the Soviet regime in Western Ukraine as the culmination of the policies of Catherine the Great, Nicholas I, who liquidated the Unia in the Russian partition of Ukraine in 1839, and Alexander III, who liquidated the Unia in Chełm in 1875.39 It was not enough to destroy the hierarchy and clergy in order to liquidate the Church. This was a lesson that the Soviet leadership learned during the antireligious assault of the 1920s–1930s. The situation in Western Ukraine was even more complicated, because upon the extinction of the official church, the Greek Catholic faithful could turn to the Roman Catholic Church. The post1946 experience proved that this was the option pursued by many of those who refused to convert to Orthodoxy.40 Under such conditions, the Russian Orthodox Church became a useful ally of the regime in Western Ukraine. According to Markus, Orthodoxisation41 of Greek Catholics ‘was supposed to integrate the West Ukrainians into the Soviet Russian Body’.42 Bohdan Bociurkiw, who considers that the regime assigned the Moscow Patriarchate a task ‘to indoctrinate the “reunited” faithful in Soviet patriotism’, shares this view.43 Both scholars suggest that the Orthodox–Soviet linkage was taken

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for granted by the regime when it came to the implementation of its social, national and religious policies in Western Ukraine. All the advantages notwithstanding, the regime was unwilling to openly acknowledge its own involvement in the processes of ‘reunification’ and Orthodoxisation and attempted to present it as an ‘internal church affair’. Scholars suggest various explanations for the regime’s involvement in reunification. Still less do they agree when the reasons and character of the Moscow Patriarchate’s involvement in the liquidation of the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church are examined. The views of scholars, influenced by their national identities and religious adherence, range from claims about the ‘willing’ and ‘full-fledged’ participation of the Moscow Patriarchate in the liquidation of another church44 to attempts to justify its ‘unwilling’ involvement, and to further present the Orthodox action in Western Ukraine as its attempt to ‘save’ ‘the Church in the Uniate lands from a complete extinction by the regime’.45 Dominant in post-Soviet historiography is an inclination to justify the role played by the Moscow Patriarchate in stressing that it was ‘compelled’ by the regime, ‘had no choice’ and displayed ‘little willingness’ to ‘assimilate’ the ‘reunited’ flock.46 An analysis of archival sources, oral testimony and the Journal of the Moscow Patriarchate supports an assumption of the marginal role of the Moscow Patriarchate in the ‘reunification’. ‘Reunification’ and Orthodoxisation were primarily carried on by local plenipotentiaries of the Council for the Affairs of the Russian Orthodox Church, which prompts a claim that the religious conversion of Western Ukrainians was more in the interests of the state than it was in the interests of Russian Orthodoxy. Because Orthodoxisation was – ‘unfortunately’ – the only viable approach to the Sovietisation of the West Ukrainian faithful, the regime was not satisfied with the slow progress of change and partial achievements and hence compelled the Patriarchate to reinforce its missionary efforts. Given its inability (mainly because of the absence of required institutional resources) to integrate several million Greek Catholics quickly and completely, the Patriarchate leadership opted for a slow process of Orthodoxisation and a policy of concessions as the only viable one in the West Ukrainian setting. This careful approach was first articulated by Patriarch Aleksii (Simansky) in his letter to the Chairman of the Council for the Affairs of the Russian Orthodox Church, Georgii Karpov, a few months prior to the 1946 Lviv Council (7 December 1945): ‘We will not insist on the rapid and violent change of the external forms of church service and even clergy appearance … Only essential changes are important.’47 An equally important reason for the cautious policy in Western Ukraine was a pragmatic desire by the Patriarchate to preserve its bargaining position that ‘ensure[d] [its] continuous usefulness’ in the eyes of the Soviet authorities.48 As an agent serving to ‘integrate, denationalise, and assimilate or, more precisely, to Sovietise and Russify’ the population of Western Ukraine,49 the Moscow Patriarchate acquired a strong bargaining power in its relationship with the state, enabling it to extract from the regime

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numerous concessions: from preserving Orthodox monasteries and convents untouched by Khrushchev’s antireligious assault to the publication of religious literature. Adhering to such a cautious approach from the outset, the Moscow Patriarchate had to step up its activities in Western Ukraine during the second half of the 1950s–1960s and especially in the 1970s, when a ‘Greek Catholic challenge’, or ‘Vatican influence’ in official terms, made itself more felt. There were several symbolic turning points. The first were the events of 1955–7: a return of the rehabilitated Greek Catholic clergy from the Gulag50 and the impact of events in neighbouring Poland and Hungary that ‘further complicated’ ecclesiastical situation in Western Ukraine. The earliest petitions for the legalisation of the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church were circulated in that atmosphere of widespread hopes for change.51 The second were the activities of Vatican II in 1962–5. State and ecclesiastical authorities believed that Vatican II contributed to the intensification of clandestine Uniate activities and caused much ‘confusion’ and ‘disruption’ amongst the ‘reunited’ flock.52 The third was the stimulating impact of the events of the Prague Spring of 1968, and particularly the legalisation of the Greek Catholic Church in Slovakia.53 The 1970s complicated the situation in Western Ukraine even further with the signing by the Soviet government of the Final Helsinki Act of 1975, which provided legal grounds for a growing number of voices in defence of the officially non-existent Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church, and the election of Cardinal Karol Woityła as Pope. Almost immediately after his election, John Paul II wrote a letter to the primate of the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church, Cardinal Iosyf Slipyi,54 residing in Rome: ‘I think now the primary necessity of the moment is to guarantee the right to existence and to citizenship of Ukrainian Greek Catholics in their homeland.’55 This was a symbolic gesture indicating a profound change in Vatican policies towards West Ukrainian Christians and pointing to the beginning of a new phase in the history of the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church addressed in the concluding paragraphs.

Choices of West Ukrainian Christians The regime’s resolve to liquidate the Greek Catholic Church through its ‘reunification’ with the Moscow Patriarchate divided Ukrainian Greek Catholics. Some of them overtly accepted the regime’s ‘offer’ and promoted ‘reunification’. Fr Havryil Kostelnyk – leader of the Sponsoring group56 – stated that it was essential to preserve an institutional framework for the religious life of Galician believers and elaborated in detail on his vision of the ‘reunited’ community during the 1946 Lviv Council. Kostelnyk was convinced that any change in the daily life of the ‘reunited’ parishes, their Greek Catholic rituals and customs could only be implemented ‘very wisely and carefully in order not to alienate people from the Church and not to dim their religious spirit’.57

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He declared that ‘reunited’ parishes were to remain distinct from the Russian Orthodox Church when he distinguished between the ‘All-Russian Church’ (Vseruska Tserkva) and the ‘West Ukrainian Church’ (Zakhidno-Ukrainska Tserkva).58 Finally, Kostelnyk left no doubts that the ‘reunited’ community was to preserve its national character, resisting efforts at Russification from Moscow. He finished his speech with a telling phrase: ‘We are the Ukrainians and we are in Ukraine. No one will deprive us and our Church of this.’59 The basic motive impelling the ‘activists’ from the Greek Catholic Church to become advocates for ‘reunification’ was to preserve the legal possibility to practise the faith in Galicia. Nikita Struve concludes his discussion of the ‘reunification’ of Greek Catholics with a brief, telling statement: ‘Ten years after the Council of Lvov, the three leading members of the Sponsoring Group were no longer in this world’, each being murdered by Soviet security organs.60 Little additional evidence is required to establish that the concept of ‘reunification’ advanced ‘from below’ was opposite to the concept advanced ‘from above’ and the following discussion sheds light on the major reasons for this. The alternative option, pursued by those Greek Catholic (mainly religious) priests, monks and nuns who refused to follow the Sponsoring Group, was to ‘preserve the faith … so that people know what it means to be a Greek Catholic’.61 A decision by the clergy to ‘preserve [true] faith’ meant a choice in favour of an illegal existence, which presumed that the flock would be deprived of their pastors. In early 1945, when there were no remaining illusions concerning the plans of the Soviet regime, Archimandrite Klymentii Sheptytsky, brother of Metropolitan Andrei Sheptytsky and prominent leader of a group of the clergy who resisted pressure from the regime, instructed Greek Catholic priests to prepare for an illegal existence. Archimandrite Klymentii acknowledged that in order to preserve their loyalty to the Holy See, priests had to leave their parishes and flock as this was the only way to escape repression.62 Looking back at the period of their ‘catacomb’ existence, many Greek Catholic priests admit that they could not satisfy the needs of all those who required their pastoral and sacramental care.63 Moreover, members of the ‘reunited’ community recall numerous occasions when ‘catacomb’ priests refused to satisfy their sacramental needs because they believed that it was ‘too dangerous’ for them.64 This discussion raises a key issue of the Church’s mode of behaviour under Soviet rule. The Church had to choose between the institutional survival and a refusal to make compromises. The latter option turned those who pursued it into ‘martyrs for the faith’. However, it was not viable when the ‘all-encompassing necessity’, to recall William Fletcher’s definition, was to take sacramental and pastoral care of the multi-million flock.65 For the majority of the faithful, ‘Only one thing [was] important: that in the closest church still existing, the divine service is carried out in its customary order.’66 This observation was made by an Orthodox oppositional priest, Fr Sergei Zheludkov, in the early 1970s. In Fr Zheludkov’s view, there was only one possibility to satisfy

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the religious needs of the faithful, through securing a ‘legal church organization’.67 This, however, was not feasible unless the Church was ready for certain compromises with the regime and, as was mainly the case with the ‘reunited’ clergy, to make concessions to its own religious conscience.

‘Church within the Church’: laity ‘Reunification’ was rejected by Galicians because it meant incorporation into a church that was viewed scornfully as ‘backward’,68 ‘completely compromised in the eyes of [Ukrainian] people’, given its collaboration with a ‘godless’ regime,69 and feared as an agent of Russification. ‘Reunification’ was also rejected, because it was forcibly imposed by the regime, which was hostile nationally and ideologically, and because it served its interests. The simple reminder of the Orthodox–Soviet linkage suggests that the rejection of an ‘Orthodox identity’ also assumed, in the view of West Ukrainians and the Soviet leadership, the rejection of Soviet identity. It follows from the above outline of the historical and ecclesiastical legacies of the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church that a Ukrainian Greek Catholic identity falls rather into Glennys Young’s concept of a ‘sectarian’, not a ‘church’ identity.70 This granted, resolving the tension between their Christian self and loyalty of an anti-religious kind was a much more difficult task for Greek Catholics than, for instance, for Orthodox. In contrast to the Orthodox perception, compartmentalisation of Christian and communist loyalties was commonly regarded as impossible, just as it was ‘impossible to serve two Gods’, especially since each required complete and unconditional loyalty.71 One option was chosen by the ‘catacomb’ Church. Those who pursued a ‘catacomb’ existence were resolved to preserve their religio-national identity through rejecting the imposed (Orthodox and Soviet) identities, and thereby deliberately choosing exclusion from socialist society and suffering persecution for ‘anti-Soviet activities’. A clear sense of identity and the aura of martyrdom for the faith provided compensation. The choice of the ‘Church within the Church’ was different. While externally accepting the Orthodox and Soviet identities, those Greek Catholics constructed a new or, to use David Thompson’s notion, ‘lived’72 identity, which helped them to preserve their religious and national distinctiveness. This identity was understood as standing against the imposed identities and drew on a clear ‘us’ versus ‘them’ opposition. ‘They’ were ‘Orthodox’, with all that was linked to this concept. ‘We’ consisted of those priests who signed reunification pledges and their parishioners who continued to attend their own churches, even though these churches were suddenly declared Orthodox. Popular religiosity was the basic reason why the survival of the West Ukrainian religious community was more feasible in the form of the ‘Church within the Church’ than as the ‘catacomb’ Church. The faithful of the Greek Catholic ‘liturgical’ Church were not prepared for an illegal existence outside a formal church structure. This was especially so because ordinary believers

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were rarely aware of the theological differences between their church and the Orthodox. Their hostile attitude towards Russian Orthodoxy was little conditioned by reasoning of a strictly religious character. What was crucial for them was to attend a nearby church and to have a priest who performed the liturgy and sacraments there. West Ukrainian Christians could scarcely imagine their religious life without regular attendance at the liturgy and participation in rituals. Not only those who were ‘ignorant’ but also the majority of those who ‘did care’ and ‘understood the difference [between the two churches]’ continued to attend their ‘own’ churches. They sought to satisfy their sacramental needs regularly and safely, which the ‘catacomb’ Church could not provide. ‘It was a common practice that our people, Catholics, attended an Orthodox church. They did not want to hide and to be denounced. They wanted to have their children baptised.’73 The high level of religiosity of the population in Galicia was seldom questioned by those who satisfied their religious needs (‘reunited’ priests), those who strove to assimilate them (secular and ecclesiastical authorities) or those who criticised them for their refusal to openly resist forcible conversion (critics from the ‘catacomb’ and Catholic churches). ‘There were no atheists [amongst Galicians]. When they suddenly found themselves without Church, this contradicted their mentality, their spirit. That is why they accepted Orthodoxy.’74 This behaviour, observance of external conditions of belonging to the Church (mainly regular attendance at the liturgy and participation in rituals), remained a crucial component in their religious life. Members of the ‘catacomb’ Church describe a negative popular attitude towards them. ‘People called me a Baptist, an Evangelical, a sectarian … because I never attended a schismatic [i.e. Orthodox] church. [When I buried my father without a priest] there were many rumours that I buried a Baptist, or an Evangelical, or even an atheist.’75 ‘When we passed by [a church] and did not make the sign of the cross … people paid attention to this, “Baptists … They even do not make the sign of the cross over when near a church”.’76 As members of a ‘liturgical’ church, West Ukrainian Christians depended on the sacramental ministry of the clergy. The memoirs of the ‘reunited’ community and official documents often describe the expulsion by the ‘reunited’ flock of an Orthodox priest from a parish. Comments that the faithful ‘did not trust’ a ‘reunited’ priest and refused to attend his services are also quite numerous.77 The same sources contain ample evidence to the contrary: believers often urged their pastors to sign reunification pledges. Many ‘reunited’ priests recall how their parishioners attempted to persuade them that ‘reunification’ was a ‘mere formality’ and implored their pastors not to leave them.78 When it came to the performance of life-circle sacraments and on the dates of religious feasts, the faithful looked for ‘whichever priest’ was available because the performance of the festive liturgy and rituals was an unquestionable priority that outweighed any perception and prejudice. The common explanation was simple: ‘We cannot have a funeral or a marriage without a priest.’79

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The West Ukrainian faithful ‘did not care’ much that their ‘own’ churches were registered as Orthodox churches and that their ‘own’ priests, who served in parishes for many years before 1946, signed reunification pledges. They either considered this change to be a mere formality, or were not even aware that they changed their religious allegiance. But they ‘did care’ about the preservation of traditional patterns of their religious life. This primarily presumed traditional performance of rituals and celebration of feasts, and retention of popular religious customs. This also presumed the retention of the traditional appearance of churches and clergy. Popular conservatism ensured the distinctiveness of the ‘reunited’ community, even though this community was formally a part of the Russian Orthodox Church. The Sponsoring Group considered that the preservation of traditional Galician ritual patterns was the condition on which alone the ‘reunification’ was feasible. A change in the established patterns of sacramental life (from patterns of the liturgy to popular traditions related to the major feasts of the church calendar, primarily Easter, Christmas and Epiphany) could alienate the faithful and compel them to question the advisability of belonging to the Orthodox Church. Such was a common explanation by the West Ukrainian episcopate and clergy of their reluctance to implement the Orthodoxisation measures devised by ecclesiastical authorities over forty years of Greek Catholic existence under the Moscow Patriarchate.

‘Church within the Church’: clergy ‘We had to save our Church.’ ‘We preserved what was ours.’ ‘We were guided by a thought to head our flock.’ Such were common explanations of their move by those priests who signed reunification pledges. Many of them expand on the regime’s pressure (‘they broke me down’80) and explain how difficult it was for them to take that, ‘merely formal’, step. The accusation of apostasy was not simply heard from fellow priests who refused to sign reunification pledges. This was also a self-perception of some ‘reunited’ priests who acknowledged that they had committed ‘moral suicide’.81 Internal conflicts and confusions felt by many ‘reunited’ priests manifested themselves on various occasions. A ‘catacomb’ priest, Fr Mykhailo Kysil, recalls how he once performed a marriage ceremony for the daughter of a ‘reunited’ priest. This priest approached him after the ceremony and confessed: ‘Dear Father, thank you, Father, for your performance of the sacrament of Holy Matrimony for my daughter. I am a priest. Unfortunately, I have signed [the reunification pledge]. That is why I told my daughter, “My child, look for our priest, not that [one who has ‘reunited’].”’82 The task of ‘saving our Church’ and ‘saving the flock’ was twofold in the eyes of ‘reunited’ priests. The first component was to preserve the church institutional framework to ensure that the faithful could legally and openly (in registered churches) satisfy their religious needs. Another, no less crucial, motivation was to safeguard our own Church and our flock ‘from Orthodox’.

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‘Should priests refuse to sign reunification pledges, they [i.e. Moscow’s authorities] would send other [priests] “from there” [to Western Ukraine]. They would select the priests from the East. People would refuse to go to churches then.’83 An insightful testimony to support this point is a widespread practice of the administration of ‘reunited’ parishes by formerly celibate Greek Catholic priests and monks who married after they pledged allegiance to Orthodoxy. After the renunciation of their monastic vows, such clerics were to be deprived of their priestly rank in accordance with both Orthodox and Catholic canon law. Notwithstanding this strict canonical regulation, West Ukrainian bishops – converts from Greek Catholicism – were eager to appoint such priests to their parishes, ‘just to prevent “those” from the Russian Orthodox Church to come … just not to allow the popyky into the parishes’.84 An essential condition allowing ‘reunited’ priests to claim that they ‘remained the same’ was their conviction that they merely pro forma signed reunification pledges. The terms ‘conversion to Orthodoxy’ and ‘reunification with the Russian Orthodox Church’ were absent from the language of the ‘reunited’ clergy and their flock. The term they used to define their new religious allegiance was ‘to sign Orthodoxy’ or ‘to subscribe to Orthodoxy’ (pidpysaty pravoslavia). The term used by ‘reunited’ priests as self-reference and appropriated by their flock and the ‘catacomb’ Church was ‘signed (pidpysni) priests’, which implied their minimal attachment to Orthodoxy. Not only was the distinctiveness from the Orthodox clergy felt and claimed by ‘reunited’ priests but it was also acknowledged from outside, by the ‘catacomb’ Church and by state and ecclesiastical authorities. Regardless of a generally negative attitude towards ‘reunited’ priests, the ‘catacomb’ Church clearly distinguished between them and the ‘Russian (ruski) priests from the Russian Orthodox Church’, seldom equating them.85 While the ‘catacomb’ Church drew attention to the identity and convictions of the ‘reunited’ clergy, local plenipotentiaries of the Council for the Affairs of the Russian Orthodox Church (and later of the Council for Religious Affairs) and observers from the Moscow Patriarchate were largely concerned with outward characteristics. The conclusions they derived were always the same: differences in the appearance of the ‘reunited’ and Orthodox clergy remained visible over the decades after ‘reunification’.86 ‘I have never seen a single priest from former Uniates in a cassock, with long hair and a beard, with a cross on his chest and other attributes of a pop … They mostly … preserve the outward appearance of a Greek Catholic priest – parokh’ (Plenipotentiary Kysliakov, 1959).87 The distinctiveness of ‘reunited’ priests from Orthodox vividly manifested itself in their service and their relations with the ‘catacomb’ Church. The relationship between the ‘reunited’ and ‘catacomb’ clergy was far less cordial and close than emerges in the official documents. The reason was the negative attitude of ‘catacomb’ priests towards those who ‘signed Orthodoxy’. ‘I was very cautious with those who signed. I had contacts with some signed priests,

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could exchange several phrases with them, but I did not trust them’ (Fr Ivan Kubai).88 The overall picture was, however, more complex, first because many ‘signed’ priests maintained personal relations with those priests who refused to ‘sign Orthodoxy’. Another reason was the preservation of sacramental communication between the ‘two Churches’, between ‘signed’ and ‘catacomb’ priests. To resolve moral confusions and persuade himself of that he ‘remained the same’, a ‘reunited’ priest, like many of his parishioners, found it necessary to confess and take Holy Communion with a ‘true’ Greek Catholic priest.89 Members of the ‘Church within the Church’, not excluding the clergy, wanted a ‘catacomb’ priest to baptise and marry their children, whenever this priest was available.90 Directly or with the help of their parishioners, who had closer contacts with the ‘catacomb’ clergy, ‘reunited’ priests ordered special religious services for the health and/or repose of their relatives in the ‘catacomb’ Church.91 The relationship of the ‘reunited’ clergy with the ‘catacomb’ Church became closer after the actions of Vatican II. In addition to sacramental communication, many ‘reunited’ priests had been institutionally linked to the ‘catacomb’ Church since that time. Under the impact of the reforms of Vatican II,92 Cardinal Slipyi’s ‘Eastern-rite reforms’ and the idea of a unified Kyiv Patriarchate, advanced by Ukrainian Greek Catholics in Rome,93 the ‘catacomb’ episcopate was eager to admit the ‘reunited’ clergy back under the jurisdiction of the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church. ‘Reunited’ priests recall that Bishop Mykola Charnetsky had even in the 1950s admitted them back after they repented and renounced their allegiance to the Russian Orthodox Church.94 This practice had become widespread since the 1960s as a result of conscious policies by the leaders of the ‘catacomb’ Church, Archbishops Vasyl Velychkovsky (1963–9) and Volodymyr Sterniuk (episcopal ordination in 1964; 1972–91). Many ‘reunited’ priests thus re-established themselves as Greek Catholic priests, simultaneously continuing to perform their duties in registered Orthodox parishes.95 Some priests openly renounced their allegiance to the Moscow Patriarchate after they were admitted back to the Greek Catholic Church. Such priests, who had to leave their parishes immediately, presented a lesser threat for Moscow’s authorities than those who continued to serve in their parishes. This was realised by ‘catacomb’ bishops, for they warned ‘reunited’ priests against the open renunciation of their allegiance to the Russian Orthodox Church. ‘There was no need to [openly] renounce. There was no need to anger them … What for? There was no need to break with an Orthodox [bishop]. It was sufficient to confess with our [bishop]’ (Bishop Ivan Liatyshevsky of the Stanislaviv diocese to Fr Butkovsky, admitted back to the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church in 1956).96 This practice had many opponents amongst ‘catacomb’ priests, mainly of the Basilian order, who could not forgive ‘reunited’ priests their apostasy and were not prepared to accept their dual ecclesiastical subordination,

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claiming that it was not possible to ‘serve two Churches’.97 Those suspicions and critical estimates notwithstanding, this dual ecclesiastical subordination of ‘reunited’ priests – the administration of Orthodox parishes by Greek Catholic priests, to push this to extremes – substantially undermined the Orthodox presence in Galicia from within. This was a challenge that neither ecclesiastical nor secular authorities could answer. It is noteworthy that no official document was examined that was found to contain any hint that the authorities were aware of the dual subordination of the ‘reunited’ clergy. Not only did the ‘reunited’ community resist efforts at assimilation coming from Moscow, but it also exerted a wider impact upon the Ukrainian Exarchate of the Russian Orthodox Church. The so-called ‘West Ukrainian challenge’ became an important factor influencing the Exarchate institutionally, nationally and ecclesiastically, as a result of its numerical strength. This became especially so because after losses suffered by the Russian Orthodox Church in the course of Khrushchev’s antireligious campaign, ‘Paradoxically, formerly Uniate Galicia [had] the largest concentration of opening [Orthodox] churches in the entire USSR.’98 Therefore the story of the ‘Church within the Church’ is not only a part of the history of the contemporary Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church, as addressed in the following pages, but also of the contemporary Ukrainian Autocephalous Orthodox Church and Ukrainian Orthodox Church of the Kyiv Patriarchate.

On the long way to legalisation It is a generally accepted view that the starting point for the revival of the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church is the establishment of the ‘Initiative Group for the Defence of Believers and the Church in Ukraine’, led by Iosyp Terelya, on 9 September 1982. The Initiative Group called for the official recognition of the Greek Catholic Church by the Soviet government, raising the issues of the return of church property illegally owned by the Moscow Patriarchate, investigation of the crimes committed by the regime against the Church and its members, re-establishment of Greek Catholic theological education, etc. and simultaneously promising that ‘the Church agrees to be a law-abiding member of Soviet society’.99 It seems, however, that several milestone events, already outlined on these pages, must be taken into account when discussing this issue. The first are many events of 1956 (from rehabilitation of the Greek Catholic clergy to uprisings in Poland and Hungary), when the earliest petitions for the legalisation of the Church were circulated on their own initiative by some West Ukrainian Christians.100 The second is the release of Metropolitan Iosyf Slipyi from the Gulag under international pressure and his exile to Rome in 1963. This rescue and his succeeding elevation to the College of Cardinals in 1965 gave a new impetus to Greek Catholics within the Soviet borders – both ‘catacomb’ and ‘reunited’ – petitioning for the official recognition of their Church. The

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Cardinal himself appealed to the Supreme Soviet of the Ukrainian Republic in 1968, asking for the Church’s functioning to be allowed.101 A completely new page in the story of the Church’s legalisation was begun after the Soviet government signed the 1975 Final Helsinki Act. This provided legal grounds for Ukrainian Greek Catholics to petition on behalf of their Church as well as a necessary pretext for the international community to support their petitions before the Soviet authorities. The final turning point to be mentioned here is the election of the new pope in 1978 and the open support for the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church that John Paul II demonstrated immediately after his election.102 The Initiative Group’s activities were thus prepared by twenty-five years of attempts at legalisation. However, it was only Mikhail Gorbachev’s turn to the policy of glasnost in 1987–8 that created the conditions under which the Church’s revival became feasible. The many events and developments that culminated in the official recognition of the Greek Catholic Church’s right to exist on 1 December 1989 included but were not restricted to the following: a mass petitioning campaign by church activists initiated in early 1988; mass pilgrimages and liturgies on the sites of Greek Catholic shrines in Hoshiv and Zarvanytsia; a mass hunger-strike by Greek Catholics and their supporters on Moscow’s Arbat in 1989; discussions of the issue of possible legalisation during numerous meetings of Soviet and US officials, as well as in Soviet– Vatican conversations.103 It is not surprising that the following statement of the Council for Religious Affairs in the Ukrainian Republic was issued on the same day that Gorbachev met John Paul II in Moscow: The Council for Religious Affairs states that under the condition of an unequivocal adherence to the Constitution of the Ukrainian SSR and the law on religions Greek Catholics may benefit from all the laws established for religious groupings in the Ukrainian SSR.104

A national church in independent Ukraine The process of legalisation was not a triumphant march of the Church from ‘catacombs’ to officially recognised existence and was far from being perceived solely in terms of the ‘re-establishment of historical justice’ by all those involved. The complex conditions of this process (disputes inside the Greek Catholic community between those coming from the ‘catacombs’ and the ‘reunited’ as well as between representatives of various generations, and primarily between survivors of the 1946 Lviv Council and their grandchildren who matured on the eve of the Soviet Union’s collapse; disputes between them and adherents of the newly emerged Ukrainian Autocephalous Orthodox Church, as well as those coming from the ‘reunited’ community;105 the openly negative attitude of the Russian Orthodox Church towards attempts at legalisation, etc.) seriously complicated first years of the institutional existence of the present Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church and their echoes

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are still to be heard today. Numerous conflicts between Greek Catholics and Orthodox of various jurisdictions over church property in Western Ukraine, which marked the early 1990s, were inescapable outcomes of the conditions of Greek Catholics’ existence under Soviet rule and had especially ruinous effects for the image of all the churches involved. Regardless of all these complexities and unfavourable developments, the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church demonstrated a steady growth over twenty years of post-Soviet existence, being quite logical within a wider context of Ukrainian ‘religious renaissance’ of the 1990s.106 Already in January 1992 – three years after its official recognition by the state – the Church consisted of 2,644 communities; in the next ten years the number reached 3,268 communities.107 In 2001 these communities owned 2,777 church buildings served by 1,872 priests; 79 monasteries and convents were inhabited by 1,168 monks and nuns; 12 theological schools were attended by 1,412 students.108 Further institutional development of the Church becomes evident when these figures are compared to those given at the beginning of this chapter. An important development of the past twenty years has been a geographical expansion of the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church: its jurisdiction presently coincides with the Ukrainian national territory, not excluding the Crimea.109 This has not only become a delayed outcome – once again paradoxical – of Soviet migration policy (removal of popular ‘reunited’ priests from their parishes and their transfer to remote parishes of Central and Eastern Ukraine), but also has been a result of conscious policies by the leaders of the Church – Cardinal Myroslav Ivan Liubachivsky (1984–2000) and Cardinal Liubomyr Huzar (2001–11) – aiming at transforming the ‘Church of Galicians’ into a Ukrainian national church. A step most symbolically telling in this regard is the transfer of the seat of the Head of the Church from Lviv to Kyiv as Ukraine’s national centre. The transfer was initiated by Cardinal Huzar and announced on 21 August 2005. A successor to Cardinal Huzar – Sviatoslav Shevchuk, Major Archbishop of the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church, – was enthroned on 27 March 2011. He seems to be making this transformation of the Church into a truly Ukrainian national church the major priority in his policies. In his numerous pronouncements and interviews, Archbishop Sviatoslav Shevchuk disassociates the Church from the adjectives ‘local’ and ‘Galician’, presenting it as the Church of/for all Ukrainian people.110 His activities, moreover, are aimed at presenting the Church as a ‘global Church that carries out its mission in various cultural contexts’.111 Such, for instance, was the Archbishop’s characterisation of the Church in his conversation with Pope Benedict XVI of 16 March 2012 after the discussion of his pastoral visits to Ukrainian Greek Catholic dioceses and exarchates in Western Europe and both Americas. An important development over the last decade, inseparably linked with this attempt by the church leaders to raise its status above the regional level, has been their struggle to acquire a patriarchal office for the Church. The

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story dates back as far as the Second Vatican Council, which mentioned in its Decree on the Catholic Churches of the Eastern Rite (21 November 1964) that ‘the patriarchal office in the Eastern Church is a traditional form of government, the Sacred Ecumenical Council ardently desires that new patriarchates should be erected where there is need, to be established either by an ecumenical council or by the Roman Pontiff’ (point 11). This declaration was enthusiastically embraced and the idea of the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church as a patriarchal Church was promoted by Greek Catholics in the diaspora and personally by Cardinal Iosyf Slipyi. This, however, had no consequences then because of the Vatican’s negative attitude. Cardinal Huzar became a new promoter of this idea almost four decades afterwards. In 2002 the Patriarchal Council of the Church, bringing together its representatives from Ukraine and the diaspora, declared: ‘We have reached a common understanding and a single desire for our Church to acquire a patriarchal office.’112 On 3 June 2004 the issue was raised by the Cardinal during his personal audience with Pope John Paul II. The Cardinal’s initiative did not find support in Rome once again, not least because this could complicate its dialogue with the Moscow Patriarchate, which remains the unquestionable priority for the Vatican.113 Observers saw the earliest signs of a possible change in the Vatican position in Pope Benedict XVI’s support for a decision by the Synod of the Greek Catholic Church to create three new metropolias. This development is interpreted by Archbishop Shevchuk in terms of continuity/re-establishment of the structure of the ancient Kyivan Church.114 As such it is seen as a step not only towards the patriarchate for Ukrainian Greek Catholics but also towards the unity of the Ukrainian national church, a common Kyiv Patriarchate for all the Ukrainians, which was Metropolitan Sheptytsky’s missionary dream. As the church positioning itself as a church for the Ukrainians both inside the country and abroad, the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church takes an active civil stand, claiming to be a representative of the Ukrainian civil society and a protector of its interests before the authorities. This stand vividly demonstrated itself during the Orange Revolution of 2004–5, when the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church, together with other churches and religious organisations, supported mass actions of protest against falsifications. In his interview on the seventh anniversary of the event, Cardinal Huzar commented: This was not Ukraine, these were concrete people – the Ukrainians who were protesting on Maidan in Kyiv. They did not strive for ‘democracy’, they were defending truth and justice … The event known as the Orange Revolution has gone. I am convinced however that its spirit is still alive.115 The most recent events of Ukrainian Euromaidan have reaffirmed the Church’s active civil stand. The Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church has been closely involved in the events ever since the beginning of demonstrations in

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support of the European integration for Ukraine on 21 November 2013. Sermons and numerous public pronouncements of the hierarchy and clergy of the Church demonstrate their support for the ‘European choice’ for Ukraine, of people’s resolve to defend their rights and choices and condemnation of the authorities’ use of force against peaceful protesters. In his sermon on the events of the New Year 2014, the Head of the Church presented his belief in the spiritual ‘renewal’ of Ukrainian society as a result of these events and called for ‘our own responsibility for the fate of our people and their state … respect for human dignity, respect for each one as a free man … [which] is the basis for a state worthy of this Man’.116 Positioning itself as a representative of the Ukrainian people and society, the Church raises before the Ukrainian power issues of civil rights, of the defence of the Ukrainian culture and language, of the freedom of conscience and religious freedom, of equal rights for all confessions and religious organisations in Ukraine.117 It is from the position of a national church that the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church approaches its relations with the authorities and with other churches in Ukraine. As far as its relationship with the recent Ukrainian authorities are concerned,118 Archbishop Shevchuk, continuing the policies of his predecessor, has attempted to once again present the Church as a protector of society’s interests rather than as a representative of oppositional forces.119 As far as its relations with other churches are concerned, the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church steadily demonstrates its openness to dialogue, being an active participant of the All-Ukrainian Council of Churches and cooperating with them in raising and solving concrete – mostly social, moral and cultural – issues (as, for instance, raising a single voice of protest during the Orange Revolution and the events of Euromaidan). Amongst the most positive recent developments, remarked by observers, is certain normalisation of Greek Catholics’ relations with the Orthodox churches: not only with the national Ukrainian Orthodox Church of the Kyiv Patriarchate and the Ukrainian Autocephalous Orthodox Church, but also with the Ukrainian Orthodox Church of the Moscow Patriarchate and the Patriarchate itself. A comment by Patriarch Kirill (Gundiaev) on the beginning of the constructive dialogue between Orthodox and Greek Catholics in Ukraine, made in November 2011, became the first such public acknowledgement by the Moscow Patriarchate and is interpreted by many as a landmark event on the way towards overcoming mistakes of the past and towards a unified Ukrainian national church.120

Conclusion Counting its official existence since the 1596 Union of Brześć and claiming its origins since the initial Christianisation of the Kyivan Rus, the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church is the third largest church and one of the most socially active and influential in Ukraine nowadays. Ever since its establishment the

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Church had to carry out its mission in various – mostly hostile – political and ecclesiastical circumstances. Even in the first half of the eighteenth century it was impossible to imagine that the Uniina Church, against which Ukrainian Cossacks – mythologised national heroes – were fiercely fighting, would once claim itself to be a representative of all Ukrainian people and would be widely recognised as such. One could single out four major periods in the history of the Church, in its transformation from a church seen as an instrument of the ‘Vatican expansionist policy’ to a church seen as an integral component of Ukrainian civil society. The first period stretched for almost two centuries – from the Church’s establishment to the first partition of Poland in 1772. This formation period became one of the most complex in the Church’s four-century-long history. The idea behind the Union with Rome was to unite all the Christians in the Rzechpospolita, to strengthen the Kyivan Church and to raise the social and economic status of its adherents. The Uniina Church was, however, to become the epitome of discord and disunity, seen as an unacceptable (Vatican) novelty undermining ‘old good traditions’ by the majority of the Ukrainian population of the Rzechpospolita and as an unwanted obstacle to the spreading of Catholic influence by the state authorities and the Vatican. The essence of the second period (roughly from the last decade of the eighteenth century to 1946) is a gradual evolution of a largely marginal and conservative church into a socially and politically active national church. As the Uniina Church was liquidated in the Russian partition of Poland in the course of the nineteenth century, this transformation was only taking place in the Habsburg partition, in Galicia. This is a reason why the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church is commonly seen as a regional church, the ‘Church of Galicians’, notwithstanding that the dioceses in Western Ukraine were the last to accept the Unia, only in the late seventeenth/early eighteenth centuries. The next period of the Church’s history remains the least researched and understood, regardless of historiographical and popular interest in Soviet history in general and the Church’s survival under communism in particular. If seen from the perspective of the ‘catacomb’ Church, which is a common historiographical viewpoint, this is a story of the ‘Church of martyrs’, a dramatic and heroic story of resisting the oppressive totalitarian regime. If seen from the perspective of the ‘reunited’ community – the majority of Greek Catholics after the official liquidation of the Church in 1946 – this is another story: less heroic, more dramatic and complex; not the story of ‘staunch martyrs’ but the story of those who chose survival marked with numerous compromises, attempts at adapting within hostile surroundings and, many claim, of ‘collaboration with the regime’. The Soviet-era history of the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church is the story of both, as this chapter demonstrates. The present Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church re-emerged in the 1990s not only because the faith was preserved in the ‘catacombs’ but also because the institutional structure was preserved by the ‘reunited’

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community, which managed to form the ‘Church within the Church’ inside the Moscow Patriarchate. The Soviet past influences of the present Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church in many ways: from conflicts inside the Church between ‘Latinisers’ (mostly represented by former ‘catacomb’ Christians) and ‘Easternisers’ (mostly coming from the ‘reunited’ community) to problematic relations with Orthodox of various jurisdictions, which became particularly difficult in the early 1990s because of many conflicts over church property in Western Ukraine. The policies of the leaders of the Church – and primarily of Cardinal Huzar and Archbishop Sviatoslav Shevchuk – aimed at overcoming this ‘Soviet heritage’ and engaging in a constructive dialogue with all the Orthodox churches, including the Ukrainian Orthodox Church of the Moscow Patriarchate and the Patriarchate itself. The major priority of their policies is a final transformation of a ‘regional Church of the West Ukrainians’ into a national church for all the Ukrainians, both inside the country and abroad, a church which is an integral component of Ukrainian civil society, a representative of its interests before the authorities. It is from this perspective that the transfer of the seat of the head of the Church from Lviv to Kyiv, persistent attempts to acquire the patriarchal office for the Church and an active social stand, for instance during the Orange Revolution and Ukrainian Euromaidan, are to be understood. Thereby the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church in the twentyfirst century attempts to acquire the character that should be, as confessional theologians and historians claim, intrinsic to it – of the natural church of the Ukrainian people.

Appendix 1

Religious leaders

•

•

Myroslav Ivan Lubachivsky, Major Archbishop and Cardinal (1914– 2000), in office 1984 (since 1991 in Ukraine)–2000 Liubomyr Huzar, Major Archbishop and Cardinal (1933–), in office 2001–11 Sviatoslav Shevchuk, Major Archbishop (1970–), in office 2011–.

2

Biography

•

Title: Major Archbishop of Kyiv and Galicia. Sviatoslav Shevchuk was born on 5 May 1970 in Stryi, Lvivska Oblast. He studied at the Don Bosco Theological Seminary in Buenos Aires (1991–2) and at the Lviv Theological Seminary (1992–4). He was ordained priest in 1994. Sviatoslav Shevchuk received his doctoral degree from the Papal University of St Thomas Aquinas in Rome in 1999. In 2002 he was named head of the secretariat and Personal Secretary to Cardinal Liubomyr Huzar, head of the

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Patriarchal Curia in Lviv. In 2010 he became the Apostolic Administrator of the bishopric of Argentina. On 23 March 2011 Sviatoslav Shevchuk was elected successor to Cardinal Liubomyr Huzar by the Synod of the Bishops of the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church. On 27 March 2011 he was enthroned as the Major Archbishop of the Church in a ceremony conducted in the Patriarchal Cathedral of the Resurrection in Kyiv. 3 •

• • 4

Theological publications Blahovisnyk Verkhovnoho Arkhyiepyskopa Kyievo-Halytskoho Ukrainskoi Hreko-Katolytskoi Tserkvy [Evangelist of the Major Archbishop of Kyiv and Galicia of the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church], previously Blahovisnyk Verkhovnoho Arkhyiepyskopa Ukrainskoi Hreko-Katolytskoi Tserkvy [Evangelist of the Major Archbishop of the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church] Misionar [Missionary] Nova Zoria [New Star]. Congregations

Structure of the Church: 25 bishoprics, 3 metropolitanates, 4 exarchates;121 3,856 parishes.122 The metropolitanates outside Ukrainian borders are: of Przemysł and Warsaw (Poland), of Philadelphia (USA) and of Winnipeg (Canada). Number of clergy and church buildings: 3,581 churches (within Ukraine);123 2,784 secular priests and 437 religious priests, 939 monks, 1,526 nuns and 633 seminarists.124

Acknowledgements I would like to thank Maksym Yaremenko and Katerynd Budz for their assistance in collecting sources for this chapter.

Notes 1 ‘The Eastern Catholic Churches 2010’, compiled by Ronald G. Robertson from Annuario Pontificio, available at http://www.cnewa.org/source-images/Robersoneastcath-statistics/eastcatholic-stat10.pdf (accessed 6 June 2013). 2 Statistics from the official site of the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church at http:// www.ugcc.org.ua/36.0.html (accessed 6 June 2013). 3 Ibid. 4 For more details, see Natalia Yakovenko, Narys istorii seredniovichnoi ta ranniomodenoi Ukrainy [An Outline History of Medieval and Early Modern Ukraine], 2nd rev. and enlarged edn, Kyiv: Krytyka, 2005, pp. 218–20. 5 This is because of a negative pejorative connotation that the term acquired in Soviet official rhetoric that created the image of ‘Unia’ and ‘Uniates’ as ‘archenemies’ because they were ‘bourgeois nationalists’, ‘fascists’, ‘papists’, etc.

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6 Borys Gudziak, ‘Istoriia vidokremlennia: Kyivska mytropolia, Tsarhorodsky patriarkhat i geneza Beresteiskoi unii’ [The history of separation: the Kyivan metropoly, Constantinople Patriarchate, and the genesis of the Union of Brześć], in Kovcheh: Zbirnyk statei z tserkovnoi istorii [Kovcheh: A Collection of Articles in Church History], vol. 1, Lviv, 1993, pp. 1–4; Oleh Turii, ‘Tradytsiini Tesrkvy v nezalezhnii Ukraini: problema identychnosti’ [Traditional Churches in contemporary Ukraine: the problem of identity], Ji: nezalezhnyi kulturolohichnyi chasopys [Ji: Independent Culturological Journal], 2001, 22, available at http://www.ji.lviv. ua/n22texts/turij.htm (accessed 6 June 2013). 7 Turii, ‘Tradytsiini Tesrkvy v nezalezhnii Ukraini: problema identychnosti’. 8 Yakovenko, Narys istorii seredniovichnoi ta ranniomodenoi Ukrainy, pp. 225–30. 9 For more details, see Sophia Senyk, ‘Ukrainska Tserkva v XVII stolitti’ [The Ukrainian Church in the seventeenth century], in Kovcheh, vol. 1, pp. 33–48. 10 Edward L. Keenan, Rosiiski istorychni mity [Russian Historical Myths], 2nd enlarged edn, Kyiv: Krytyka, 2003, pp. 21–31. 11 John-Paul Himka, ‘Hreko-Katolytska Terskva i natsionalne vidrodzhennia u Halychyni 1772–1918’ [The Greek Catholic Church and the national renaissance in Galicia, 1772–1918], in Kovcheh, vol. 1, p. 86. 12 Ibid., p. 75. 13 See articles by Oleh Turii for further details: Oleh Turii, ‘Sotsialnyi status i materialne stanovyshche hreko-katolytskoho dukhovenstva Halychyny v seredyni XIX stolittia’ [The social status and material conditions of the Greek Catholic clergy in Galicia in the mid-nineteenth century], in Kovcheh: Naukovyi zbirnyk iz tserkovnoi istorii [Kovcheh: A scholarly volume in church history], vol. 2, Lviv, 2000, pp. 115– 48; also his ‘“Popy i khlopy”: sotsialna doktryna hreko-katolytskoho dukhovenstva i natsionalno-politychna mobilizatsiia ukrainskoho selianstva v seredyni XIX stolittia’ [‘Popi and chlopi’: the social ‘doctrine’ of the Greek Catholic clergy and the national and political mobilisation of Galician peasants in the mid-nineteenth century], in Kovcheh: Naukovyi zbirnyk iz tserkovnoi istorii [Kovcheh: A Scholarly Volume in Church History], vol. 3, Lviv, 2001, pp. 296–320. 14 Himka, ‘Hreko-Katolytska Terskva i natsionalne vidrodzhennia u Halychyni 1772–1918’, pp. 73–107; Andreas Kappeler, ‘Natsionalnyi rukh ukraintsiv u Rosii ta Halychyni: Sproba porivniannia’ [National movement of Ukrainians in Russia and Galicia: An attempt at comparison], in Ukraina: kulturna spadshyna [Ukraine: Cultural Heritage], vol. 1, Kyiv, 1992, pp. 110–13; Oleh Turii, ‘“Ukrainska ideia” v Halychyni v seredyni XIX st’. [The ‘Ukrainian idea’ in Galicia in the mid-nineteenth century], Ukraina moderna [Modern Ukraine], 1999, 2-3, available at http:// www/franko.lviv.ua/Subdivisions/um/um2–3/ (accessed 6 June 2013). 15 Himka, ‘Hreko-Katolytska Terskva i natsionalne vidrodzhennia u Halychyni 1772–1918’, p. 89. 16 See, for instance, Metropolitan’s message to the clergy: Andrei Sheptytsky, Iak zbuduvaty ridnu Khatu? [How to build our Home], Lviv: Svichado, 1999. 17 For more detail see: Ryszard Torzecki, ‘Mytropolyt Andrei Sheptytsky’ [Metropolitan Andrei Sheptytsky], in Kovcheh, vol. 1, pp. 109–21. 18 Volodymyr Serhiichuk, compiler, Neskorena Tserkva: Podvyzhnytstvo hrekokatolykiv Ukrainy v borotbi za viru i derzhavu [The Unconquerable Church: Heroic Conduct of Ukrainian Greek Catholics in Their Struggle for Faith and State], Kyiv: Dnipro, 2001, p. 109. 19 The message was published in Zhurnal Moskovskoi patriarhii [Journal of the Moscow Patriarchy], 1949, 10, p. 8. 20 Details of this operation are revealed by many secret documents published in: Likvidatsiia UHKTs (1939–1946). Dokumenty radianskykh orhaniv derzhavnoi bezpeky [Liquidation of the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church (1939–1946). Documents by the Soviet security organs]. In 2 vols. Kyiv, 2006.

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21 Myroslav Tataryn, ‘The Re-emergence of the Ukrainian (Greek) Catholic Church in the USSR’, in Sabrina Ramet (ed.), Religious Policy in the Soviet Union, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993, p. 292. 22 Vasyl Markus, ‘Religion and Nationality: The Uniates in the Ukraine’, in Pedro Ramet (ed.), Religion and Nationalism in Soviet and East European Politics, Durham, NC and London: Duke University Press, 1989, p. 153. 23 For the original concept, see Vasyl Markus, ‘The Suppressed Church: Ukrainian Catholics in the Soviet Union’, in Richard T. De George and James P. Scanlan (eds), Marxism and Religion in Eastern Europe: Papers Presented at the Banff International Slavic Conference, September 4–7, 1974, Dordrecht: D. Reidel Publishing Company, 1976, p. 123. 24 Gosudarstvennyi arkhiv Rossiiskoi Federatsii [National Archive of the Russian Federation] (GARF), F. 6991, O. 2, File 256, pp. 1–2. 25 Rossiisky gosudarstvennyi arkhiv sotsialno-politicheskoi istorii [Russian State Archive of Social and Political History] (RGASPI), F. 17, O. 132, File 569, pp. 57–8, 60–1. 26 For more details see, James C. Scott, Weapons of the Weak: Everyday Forms of Peasant Resistance, New Haven, CT and London: Yale University Press, 1985. 27 Bohdan R. Bociurkiw, ‘“Religious and Non-Religious Dissent in the Ukraine and Its Contribution to the Struggle for Human Rights”. Paper Presented at an International Seminar on “Religious Dissent: Cooperation between Christians, Followers of Other Religions, and Non-Believers in the Struggle for Human Rights and Freedom of Expression in the Countries of Eastern Europe”. The Venice Biennale, Venice, Italy, 29–30 November 1977’, in Studies in Religion and Politics in the Ukraine since 1917, Cambridge, MA: Ukrainian Summer Institute, Harvard University, 1977, p. 433. 28 Ibid.; also his ‘The Catacomb Church: Ukrainian Greek Catholics in the USSR’, Religion in Communist Lands, 1977, 5 (1), p. 5; Walter Kolarz, Religion in the Soviet Union, London: Macmillan & Co., 1961, pp. 241–3; Owen Chadwick, The Christian Church in the Cold War, London: Penguin Books, 1993, p. 51. 29 The argument is elaborated in Natalia Shlikhta, ‘Competing Concepts of “Reunification” behind the Liquidation of the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church’, in Bruce R. Berglund and Brian Porter-Szücs (eds), Christianity and Modernity in Eastern Europe, Budapest and New York: CEU Press, 2010, pp. 159–90. 30 Bohdan R. Bociurkiw, ‘The Uniate Church in the Soviet Ukraine: A Case Study in Soviet Church Policy’, Canadian Slavonic Papers, 1965, 7 (1), p. 96. 31 Ibid. 32 Hansjakob Stehle, Eastern Politics of the Vatican, 1917–1979, translated by Sandra Smith, Athens, OH: Ohio University Press, 1981, p. 231; Chadwick, The Christian Church in the Cold War, p. 52. 33 This is the view shared by some Russian and Western scholars: Chadwick, The Christian Church in the Cold War, p. 52; Mikhail Shkarovsky, Russkaia pravoslavnaia tserkov pri Stalinie i Khrushchiovie (Gosudarstvienno-tserkovnyie otnosheniia v SSSR v 1939–1964 godakh) [The Russian Orthodox Church under Stalin and Khrushchev: The State–Church Relationship in the USSR during 1939–1964], Moscow: Krutitskoie patriarshee podvoriie; Obshchestvo lubitelei tserkovnoi istorii, 2000, pp. 127–8, 298; Olga Vasileva, Russkaia pravoslavnaia tserkov v politike sovetskogo gosudarstva v 1943–1948 gg. [The Russian Orthodox Church in the Policies of the Soviet State during 1943–1948], Moscow: Institut Rossiiskoi Istorii RAN, 2001, p. 192; Tatiana Chumachenko, Gosudarstvo, Pravoslavnaia Tserkov, Veruiushchiie. 1941–1961 g.g. (Seriia ‘Pervaia monografiia’) [State, the Orthodox Church, Believers. 1941–1961 (Series ‘The first monograph’)], Moscow: ‘ANRO-XX’, 1999, pp. 52–4.

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34 The majority of Ukrainian and Ukrainian émigré historians and many Western scholars adhere to this view. See the studies by Bohdan R. Bociurkiw, Vasyl Markus, Frank Sysyn, Oleksandr Lysenko, Volodymyr Serhiichuk and also Kolarz, Religion in the Soviet Union, pp. 236–40; Bohdan Iarosh, ‘Dukhovna sfera pid totalitarnym tyskom’ [The spiritual sphere under totalitarian pressure], in Totalitarnyi rezhym na zakhidnoukrainskykh zemliakh 30–50-i roky XX stolittia [The Totalitarian Regime in the Western Ukrainian Lands, 1930s–1950s], Luhansk, 1995, pp. 129–50. Soviet policy regarding the UGCC is usually discussed by those scholars who examine the oppositional potential of a national church in a communist state. See, for instance, Pedro Ramet, ‘Autocephaly and National Identity in Church–State Relations in Eastern Christianity: An Introduction’, in Pedro Ramet (ed.), Eastern Christianity and Politics in the Twentieth Century, Durham, NC and London: Duke University Press, 1988, pp. 14–19; Hank Johnston, ‘Religio-Nationalist Subcultures under the Communism: Comparisons from the Baltics, Transcaucasia, and Ukraine’, in William H. Swatos, Jr (ed.), Politics and Religion in Central and Eastern Europe: Traditions and Transitions, Westport, CT: Praeger, 1994, pp. 24–5. 35 Bociurkiw argues that the liquidation of the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church has to be viewed within the ‘Kremlin’s church policy at the point where the latter converges with the regime’s nationalities policy, one of the principal variables of Soviet ecclesiastical policy’. Bociurkiw, ‘The Uniate Church in the Soviet Ukraine’, pp. 89–90. 36 Werner Stark, The Sociology of Religion: A Study of Christendom, vol. 1, Established Religion, London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1966, p. 4. 37 Bohdan R. Bociurkiw, ‘Religion and Nationalism in the Contemporary Ukraine’, in George W. Simmonds (ed.), Nationalism in the USSR and Eastern Europe in the Era of Brezhnev and Kosygin, Detroit: University of Detroit Press, 1977, p. 82. 38 For more details see: Nikolai S. Timasheff, Religion in Soviet Russia, London: Sheed and Ward, 1944, pp. 147–8. 39 Bohdan R. Bociurkiw, The Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church and the Soviet State (1939–1950), Edmonton and Toronto: Canadian Institute of Ukrainian Studies Press, 1996, p. 101. 40 See an insightful example examined in: Vlad Naumescu, Modes of Religiosity in Eastern Christianity: Religious Processes and Social Change in Ukraine, Berlin: Lit Verlag, 2008, pp. 140–4. 41 Pravoslavnoe votserkovlenie – a term used in church documents that can be translated as the ‘establishment of Orthodoxy’ in Western Ukraine and ‘incorporation [of the ‘reunited’ flock] into the Orthodox Church’. 42 Markus, ‘The Suppressed Church’, p. 121. 43 Bohdan R. Bociurkiw, ‘The Orthodox Church and the Soviet Regime in the Ukraine, 1953–1971’, Canadian Slavonic Papers, 1972, 14 (2), pp. 192–3. 44 This view is widespread in post-Soviet historiography, and primarily in Ukrainian Greek Catholic historiography and in the writings of Ukrainian Greek Catholic émigré writers: Oleksandr Havryliuk, ‘Nyshchennia radianskoiu derzhavoiu relihiinykh konfesii Zakhidnoi Ukrainy iak dukhovnoi opory silskoho naselennia kraiu’ [The destruction by the Soviet state of West Ukrainian religious confessions – a spiritual core of rural population in the region], in V. V. Haiuk et al. (eds), Istoriia relihii v Ukraini: Tezy dopovidei V Mizhnarodnoho kruhloho stolu (Lviv, 3–5 travnia 1995) [A History of Religion in Ukraine: Papers of the Fifth International Colloquium (Lviv, May 3–5, 1995)], Lviv, 1995, pp. 95–8; Viacheslav Tsvietkov, ed., Litopys Holhoty Ukrainy [A Chronicle of Calvary in Ukraine], vol. 2, Represovana tserva [The Suppressed Church], Drohobych: Vidrodzhennia, 1994. 45 This is a viewpoint of the official historiography of the Moscow Patriarchate and many lay Russian historians: Vasileva, Russkaia pravoslavnaia tserkov, pp. 189–90;

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47 48 49

50

51 52 53 54

55 56

57

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Vladislav Tsipin (Fr), Istoriia Russkoi Tserkvi 1917–1997 [A History of the Russian Church, 1917–1997], Moscow: Izdatelstvo Spaso-Preobrazhenskogo Valaamskogo monastyria, 1997, pp. 342–7. See criticism of this attempt by Russian scholars to completely ‘absolve’ the Moscow Patriarchate in Dimitry V. Pospielovsky, ‘The Russian Church since 1917 through the Eyes of Post-Soviet Russian Historians (Review Article)’, Religion, State and Society, 1998, 26 (3/4), p. 364. Viktor Ielensky and O. Patalai, ‘… Partiia vse vypravliaie, pryznachaie i buduie za odnym pryntsypom …’ [… The Party corrects, appoints and constructs everything according to one principle …], Liudyna i svit, 1992, 3, 39–41; Chumachenko, Gosudarstvo, Pravoslavnaia Tserkov, Veruiushchiie, pp. 51–4; Shkarovsky, Russkaia pravoslavnaia tserkov pri Stalinie i Khrushchiovie, pp. 104–5. GARF, F. 6991, O. 1s, File 1442, p. 163. Markus, ‘Religion and Nationalism in Ukraine’, p. 145. Gierd Shtrikkier, ‘Russkaia pravoslavnaia tserkov v sovieskom gosudarstvie’ [The Russian Orthodox Church in the Soviet state], in Gierd Shtrikkier, compiler, Russkaia pravoslavnaia tserkov v sovetskoie vremia (1917–1991). Materialy i dokumenty po istorii otnoshenii mezhdu gosudarstvom i tserkoviu [The Russian Orthodox Church during the Soviet Period (1917–1991): Sources and Documents on the History of the State–Church relationship], vol. 1, Moscow: ‘Propilei’, 1995, p. 46. The number of Greek Catholic priests, monks and nuns who returned to Western Ukraine after Khrushchev’s rehabilitation can be assessed only approximately, since official documents operate with different figures. These are only few of them: Karpov’s figure as for 3 September 1956: 243 priests; a figure from the CC Department of Agitation and Propaganda is 267 priests as for the first decade of 1957; Puzin’s figures: 400 priests and 520 monks and nuns. GARF, F. 6991, O. 1s, File 1334, p. 85; Tsentralnyi derzhavnyi arkhiv hromadskykh obiednan Ukrainy [Central State Archive of the Civic Associations in Ukraine] (TDAHO), F. 1, O. 24, File 4263, p. 288; Rossiisky gosudarstvennyi arkhiv noveishei istorii [Russian State Archive of Contemporary History] (RGANI), F. 5, O. 33, File 90, p. 35. RGANI, F. 5, O. 33, File 22, pp. 55–6, 6–7; ibid., File 90, pp. 35–8; GARF, F. 6991, O. 1s, File 1334, pp. 85–9; TDAHO, F. 1, O. 24, File 4704, pp. 220–1. GARF, F. 6991, O. 2, File 550, pp. 153–8; ibid., O. 6, File 122, pp. 8–13; ibid., O. 2, File 508, pp. 8–11. TDAHO, F. 1, O. 25, File 185, p. 54; RGANI, F. 5, O. 62, p. 38. Iosyf Slipyi (17 February 1892–8 September 1984), the head of the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church 1944–84, successor to Metropolitan Sheptytsky. Metropolitan Slipyi spent eighteen years in Soviet camps (1945–63) and was exiled to Rome on his release. He was elevated to the rank of cardinal by Paul VI in 1965. Cited in Tataryn, ‘The Re-emergence of the Ukrainian (Greek) Catholic Church’, p. 293. Havryil Kostelnyk (15 June 1886–20 September 1948), the head of the Sponsoring Group. Kostelnyk was a graduate of the theological seminaries in Zagreb and Lviv, the theological department in the University of Zagreb, Lviv University (1907) and the University of Freiburg (PhD in philosophy in 1913). He was ordained priest in 1913. Fr Dr Kostelnyk served in St George’s Cathedral, taught in the Lviv Theological Academy, wrote widely on various topics in church history and edited the magazine Nyva, focusing on religious and social issues. He was rector of the Transfiguration Church in Lviv from 1942. From 1945, Kostelnyk was dean of various Lviv churches. Havryil Kostelnyk, ‘Pro motyvy vozziednannia Hreko-Katolytskoi Tserkvy z Rosiiskoiu Pravoslavnoiu Tserkvoiu’ [Regarding the motifs of the reunification of the Greek Catholic Church with the ROC], in Vybrani tvory [Selected Works],

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62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71

72

73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80

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Kyiv: Vydannia Ekzarkha vsiiei Ukrainy Mytropolyta Kyivskoho i Halytskoho, 1987, p. 21. Ibid., p. 22. Ibid. Nikita Struve, Christians in Contemporary Russia, translated by Lancelot Sheppard and A. Manson from the 2nd rev. edn, London: Harvill Press, 1967, p. 263. Arkhiv Istytutu Istorii Tserkvy [Archive of the Institute of Church History] (AIIT), ‘Interviu z Nataliieiu Stadnyk (sestroiu Neoniloiu, Zhromadzhennia Sester Presviatoi Rodyny)’ [An interview with Nataliia Stadnyk (Sister Neonila)], 9 February 1994, Chortkiv, Ternopilska Oblast // P-1-1-285, p. 28. Ibid., ‘Interviu z otsem Ivanom Kubaiem’ [An interview with Fr Ivan Kubai], 10 April 1993, the village of Zymna Voda, Pustomytivsky rayon, Lvivska Oblast // P-1-1-192, p. 11. Ibid., ‘Interviu z pani Lidiieiu Zelenchuk-Lopatynskoiu’ [An interview with Ms Lidiia Zelenchuk-Lopatynska], 11 November 1997, Morshyn, Lvivska Oblast // P-1-1-780, p. 35. Ibid., ‘Interviu z pani Irynoiu Hornetskoiu’ [An interview with Ms Iryna Hornetska], 7 November 1999, the village of Mshana, Horodotsky rayon, Lvivska Oblast // P-1-1-1121, p. 19. This is a central argument in William C. Fletcher, A Study in Survival: The Church in Russia, 1927–1943, London: SPCK, 1965. Stehle, Eastern Politics of the Vatican, 1917–1979, p. 5. Ibid. See, for instance, Kostelnyk’s remarks on the Orthodox Church’s ‘traditionalism’ and ‘backwardness’: Likvidatsiia UHKTs (1939–1946), vol. 1, p. 290; vol. 2, pp. 137–8. AIIT, ‘Interviu z vladykoiu Sofronom Dmyterkom’ [An interview with Bishop Sofron Dmyterko], November 6, 1997, Lviv // P-1-1-419, pp. 21–2. For elaboration, see Glennys Young, Power and the Sacred in Revolutionary Russia: Religious Activists in the Village, University Park: Pennsylvania State University Press, 1997, p. 91. AIIT, ‘Interviu z Modestom Radomskym’ [An interview with Modest Radomsky], 3 September 1993, Lviv // P-1-1-231, p. 12; ibid., ‘Interviu z pani Mariieiu Lazar’ [An interview with Ms Maria Lazar], 13 August 2000, Chervonohrad, Lvivska Oblast // P-1-1-1141, p. 20. David M. Thompson, ‘Earthen Vessels or God’s Building? The Identity of United and Uniting Churches’, unpublished paper for the WCC Sixth Consultation of United and Uniting Churches, Driebergen, the Netherlands, 2002 (quoted with the author’s permission). AIIT, ‘Interviu z otsem Petrom Dutchakom’ [An interview with Fr Petro Dutchak], 20 May 1994, the village of Lysets, Tysmenytsky rayon, Ivano-Frankivska Oblast // P-1-1-385, p. 14. Ibid., ‘Interviu z pani Lidiieiu Zelenchuk-Lopatynskoiu’, p. 37. Ibid., ‘Interviu z pani Ivannoiu Volvin’ [An interview with Ms Ivanna Volvin], 11 February 1994, Chortkiv, Ternopilska Oblast // P-1-1-291, pp. 6 and 19. Ibid., ‘Interviu hrupove (z uchasnykamy pidpillia)’ [A group interview (with the members of the ‘catacomb’ Church)], 1 April 1993, Zhydachiv, Lvivska Oblast // P-1-1-761, p. 5. GARF, F. 6991, O. 1s, File 238, pp. 49, 63; ibid., File 373, p. 18. AIIT, ‘Interviu z otsem Izydorom Butkovskym’ [An interview with Fr Izydor Butkovsky], 22 April 1993 and 28 January 1994, Lviv // P-1-1-294, p. 17. Ibid., p. 49. Ibid., ‘Interviu z otsem Oleksandrom Bodrevychem-Butsem’ [An interview with Fr Oleksandr Bodrevych-Buts], 25 September 1998, Lviv // P-1-1-907, p. 47.

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81 Ibid., ‘Interviu z otsem Myronom Pidlisetskym ta Teofilom Pidlisetskym’ [An interview with Fr Myron Pidlisetsky and Teofil Pidlisetsky], 4 April 1993, IvanoFrankivsk // P-1-1-139, pp. 18–19. 82 Ibid., ‘Interviu z otsem Mykhailom Kysilem’ [An interview with Fr Mykhailo Kysil], 12 January 1994, the village of Kozachchyna, Borshchivsky rayon, Ternopilska Oblast // P-1-1-272, p. 47. My italics. 83 Ibid., ‘Interviu z otsem Mykhailom Lyndoiu’ [An interview with Fr Mykhailo Lynda], 30 October 1999, the village of Lishnia // No. 2029, pp. 27–8. 84 Natalia Shlikhta’s interview with Mrs Iaroslava Datsyshyna, widow of Fr Mykhailo Datsyshyn, 20 and 22 March 2002, Stryi, Lvivska Oblast, Ukraine. 85 AIIT, ‘Interviu z iepyskopom Mykhailom Sabryhoiu’ [An interview with Bishop Mykhailo Sabryha], 30 March 1994, Ternopil // P-1-1-321, p. 37. 86 See, for instance, the conclusions of the Patriarchal Special Commission of 1960. GARF, F. 6991, O. 1s, File 1442, p. 194. 87 Ibid., File 538, p. 13. 88 AIIT, ‘Interviu z otsem Ivanom Kubaiem’, p. 41. 89 Natalia Shlikhta’s interview with Mrs Iaroslava Datsyshyna, 22 March and 22 August 2002; AIIT, ‘Interviu z otsem Vasylem Semeniukom’ [An interview with Fr Vasyl Semeniuk], 24 June 1993, the village of Berezovytsia, Ternopilska Oblast // P-1-1-171, p. 24; ibid., ‘Interviu hrupove (z uchasnykamy pidpillia)’, p. 26. 90 TDAVO, F. 1, O. 24, File 4263, p. 295; Natalia Shlikhta’s interview with Mrs Iaroslava Datsyshyna, 22 August 2002; AIIT, ‘Interviu z otsem Ivanom Kubaiem’, p. 30; ibid., ‘Interviu z pani Lidiieiu Zelenchuk-Lopatynskoiu’, pp. 23, 29. 91 Ibid., ‘Interviu z Nataliieiu Stadnyk’, p. 25. 92 Of primary significance were the following Decrees and Constitutions: Sacrosanctum concilium of 4 December 1963 (Article 4); Lumen gentium of 21 November 1964 (Article 8); Unitatis redintegratio of 21 November 1964 (Articles 3–4, 15); Orientalium Ecclesiarum of 21 November 1964. 93 For more details, see Stehle, Eastern Politics of the Vatican, pp. 368–9; Jaroslav Pelikan, Confessor between East and West: A Portrait of Ukrainian Cardinal Josyf Slipyj, Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1990, pp. 196–207; Alexis Ulysses Floridi, Moscow and the Vatican, Ann Arbor, MI: Ardis Publishers, 1986, pp. 186–90. 94 AIIT, ‘Interviu z otsem Mykhailom Lyndoiu’, No. 2029, p. 29. 95 Ibid., ‘Interviu z otsem Illeiu Ohurkom’ [An interview with Fr Illia Ohurok], 20 October 1997, Lviv // P-1-1-739, p. 32; ibid., ‘Interviu z otsem Iosyfom Kladochnym (monakhom Ieremiieiu)’ [An interview with Fr Iosyf Kladochnyi (Monk Jeremiah)], 27 May 1993, Lviv // P-1–1-304, pp. 73, 110; ibid., ‘Interviu z otsem Vasylem Semeniukom’, p. 11; ibid., ‘Interviu z otsem Mykhailom Datsyshynym’ [An interview with Fr Mykhailo Datsyshyn], 11 February 1993, Stryi, Lvivska Oblast // P-1-1-97, pp. 7 and 16–17. 96 Ibid., ‘Interviu z otsem Izydorom Butkovskym’, p. 85. 97 Ibid., ‘Interviu z otsem Iosyfom Kladochnym’, pp. 110–11. For more information about the attitude of the ‘catacomb’ Church, see Serge Keleher, Passion and Resurrection – The Greek Catholic Church in Soviet Ukraine, 1939–1989, Lviv: Stauropegion, 1993, p. 85. 98 Bociurkiw, ‘Religion and Nationalism in the Contemporary Ukraine’, p. 83. 99 Cited in Tataryn, ‘The Re-emergence of the Ukrainian (Greek) Catholic Church’, p. 294. 100 RGANI, F. 5, O. 33, File 22, pp. 55–6, 6–7; ibid., File 90, pp. 35–8; GARF, F. 6991, O. 1s, File 1334, pp. 85–9; TDAHO, F. 1, O. 24, File 4704, pp. 220–1.

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101 Bohdan R. Bociurkiw, ‘Ukrainska Hreko-Katolytska Tserkva v katakombakh (1946–1989)’ [The Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church in the catacombs (1946– 1989)], in Kovcheh, vol. 1, p. 146. 102 Ibid., pp. 150–1. 103 For more details see, Volodymyr Pashchenko, Hreko-katolyky v Ukraini: vid 40-kh rokiv XX stolittia do nashykh dniv [The Greek Catholics in Ukraine: From the 1940s to Our Days], Poltava, 2002, pp. 429–503; Bociurkiw, ‘Ukrainska HrekoKatolytska Tserkva v katakombakh (1946–1989)’, pp. 156–60. 104 Quoted in Tataryn, ‘The Re-emergence of the Ukrainian (Greek) Catholic Church’, p. 305. 105 Ibid., pp. 311–13. 106 For more details about this phenomenon, see Borys Gudziak, ‘Relihiine zhyttia v Ukraini u pershi piat rokiv nezaleznosti’ [Religious life in Ukraine in the first five years of independence], in Kovcheh, vol. 2, pp. 168–70. 107 Oleksandr Dobroer, Katolytska Tserkva v Ukraini 2001-i rik: Statystyka, analizy, komentari [The Catholic Church in Ukraine in 2001: Statistics, Analysis, Comments], Kyiv: Cairos, 2001, p. 34. 108 Ibid. 109 See the official site of the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church for more details at http://www.ugcc.org.ua/36.0.html (accessed 6 June 2013). 110 See, for instance, his interview: Sviatoslav Shevchuk, ‘Rozrakhovuiu nyni na takyi proiav hromadianskoho suspilstva, iak pid chas Pomaranchevoi revoliutsii (09 December 2011)’ [I am counting for the same manifestation of civil society as during the Orange Revolution (9 December 2011)], available at http://interviews. com.ua (accessed 6 June 2013). 111 Cited in Bohdan (Dziurakh), ‘Status Patriarkhatu UHKTs ne povynen rozsvaryty nas iz pravoslavnymy (19 March 2012)’ [The Patriarchal status of the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church will not make mischief between us and Orthodox (19 March 2012)], available at http://www.religion.in.ua (accessed 6 June 2013). My italics. 112 Liubomyr Huzar, ‘Pro utverdzhennia patriarshoho ustroiu UHKTs. Pastyrske poslannia (Lviv, 06 September 2004)’ [On the Patriarhal office of the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church. Pastoral message (Lviv, 6 September 2004)], available at http://www.ugcc.org.ua/218.0.html (accessed 6 June 2013). 113 For more details, see Kateryna Shchotkina, ‘Moskva, Vatykan i neperedbachuvana pohoda v Ukraini’ [Moscow, the Vatican and unpredictable situation in Ukraine], Dzerkalo tyzhnia [Mirror of the Week], 2004, 8 (483); Petro Didula, ‘Vatykan, Moskva ta Patriarchat UHKTs’ [Vatican, Moscow, and the Patriarchate for the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church], Lvivska gazeta [Lviv newspaper], 3 March 2004. 114 Bohdan Chervak, ‘UHKTs: vid mytropolii do patriarkhatu (07 December 2011)’ [The Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church: from metropolias to the patrirachate (7 December 2011)], available at http://www.pravda.com.ua/columns/2011/12/7/6814454/ (accessed 6 June 2013). 115 Liubomyr Huzar, ‘Chy zrozumily my Pomaranchevu revoliutsiiu? (22 November 2011)’ [Have we realized what the Orange Revolution is? (22 November 2011)], available at http://www.pravda.com.ua/columns/2011/11/22/6774213/ (accessed 6 June 2013). 116 Sviatoslav Shevchuk, ‘2013 rik stav vsenorodnym pidtverdzhenniam ievropeiskoho vyboru nashoho narodu’ [2013 Has Become a Nationwide Confirmation of the European Choice of Our People], 1 January 2014, available at: http://news.ugcc. org.ua/news/.

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117 See for instance Arhbishop Shevchuk’s message on the twentieth anniversary of Ukraine’s independence (20 August 2011), available at http://ugcc.org. ua/1936.0.html (accessed 6 June 2013). 118 In contrast to President Viktor Yushchenko, who promoted the idea of the establishment of the Ukrainian Local Church and thus supported all ‘traditional’ churches, President Viktor Yanukovich openly supported the ‘only canonical Church in Ukraine’, as the Ukrainian Orthodox Church of the Moscow Patriarchate positions itself. 119 Shevchuk, ‘Rozrakhovuiu nyni na takyi proiav hromadianskoho suspilstva, iak pid chas Pomaranchevoi revoliutsii’. 120 Iurii Chornomorets, ‘Pravoslavni musiat vyznaty, shcho UHKTs – chastyna Katolytskoi Tserkvy’ [Orthodox have to realize that the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church is a part of the Catholic Church], Katolytsky ohliadach (14 November 2011), available at http://risu.org.ua/ua/index/monitoring/society_digest/45422/ (accessed 6 June 2013). 121 Data from the official site of the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church at http:// www.ugcc.org.ua/36.0.html (accessed 6 June 2013). 122 ‘The Eastern Catholic Churches 2010’, compiled Robertson. 123 The number from the official site of the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church at http://www.ugcc.org.ua/36.0.html (accessed 6 June 2013). 124 ‘The Eastern Catholic Churches 2010’, compiled by Robertson.

32 The Romanian Greek Catholic Church Ciprian Ghișa and Lucian N. Leustean

The Union with Rome, which led to the establishment of the Romanian Greek Catholic Church, in the area inhabited by the Romanian population in northwestern Hungary, known as the Principality of Transylvania, is placed within the conceptual framework of partial unions between Orthodox and Catholic communities after the Union of Brest at the end of the sixteenth century. Following the defeat of the Ottoman Empire at the walls of Vienna in 1683, Austrians focused their political and military interests towards the East, engaging in a large offensive that settled the authority of the House of Habsburg over central and southeastern Europe. Among these regions Transylvania became a part of the Habsburg Empire in 1691. Vienna took control of a principality characterised by multi-ethnicity and multi-confessionalism. Having deep medieval roots, the political and religious system of Transylvania was based on the existence of three privileged nations (Hungarians, Saxons and Szecklers) and four officially recognised confessions (Catholicism, Calvinism, Lutheranism and Unitarianism). Romanians found themselves outside this system from a national-political and confessional perspective, while the Orthodox Church lacked official recognition. Both Romanians and their religion were considered as tolerated, being, in the seventeenth century, under the strong influence and offensive of Calvinism, the confession of the ruling Transylvanian princes. Lacking social and economic rights, Romanian clergy were considered the equal of the serfs. Without theological education, the clergy, many of whom were illiterate, professed ritual elements filled with numerous superstitions.1 Similarly, after the spread of the Reformation in Transylvania in the midsixteenth century, the Roman Catholic Church was also forced on to the defensive, without a bishop and with a reduced number of clergy, who also lacked theological education and material support. This situation became aggravated over time in spite of efforts made by the Jesuits (who opened a college for a short while in Cluj in 1581) or the Franciscans.2 Catholicism was in a precarious situation at the moment when the country was taken over by the House of Habsburg, a fervent supporter of this religion. Imperial troops brought with them the interest of the Viennese court, encouraging Catholic missionaries in an attempt to revive Catholicism from its state of

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clear inferiority to that of an official religion of the Transylvanian principality.3 One of the methods employed by Vienna in order to accomplish this objective was the attempt to submit the Romanian Orthodox population to union with Rome, following the model that had already been put into practice in north and northeastern Hungary,4 a plan that had been conceived by the future Cardinal Leopold Kollonich. In order to succeed in the project of religious union, the state accommodated confessional interests promoted by the Catholic Church. The solidity of the Catholic bloc from Transylvania, the internal cohesion of the state and the interruption of the Romanian population’s links with neighbouring Orthodox states, provided sufficient reasons for Vienna to see union as a proper solution for some of the religious problems that needed particular attention.5 Transylvanian Romanians representatives started negotiations for union with Rome from a series of principles considered as sacrosanct by the local Church. They talked in the name of a population that was attached to its ancient Eastern traditions, the Byzantine rite and to its own theological and liturgical specificities. While union with the Church of Rome seemed to be a solution for a part of their problems, a total, hierarchic, structural, theological and ritual integration was considered unacceptable. The faithful and the clergy refused to accept a ‘foreign’ tradition, the Latin rite, that could have led to the loss of their identity. Catholicism, along with Calvinism, represented the main religious challenge for Orthodoxy in this borderland, a zone of contact between Western and Eastern spiritual influence. The presentation of the model of union as negotiated in 1439 at the Council of Florence ensured that the ‘Greeks’ continued to preserve unaltered their rite, traditions, calendar and institutional autonomy. The Union of Transylvanian Romanians was accomplished in the years 1697–1700, as a result of three Unionist synods organised in Alba Iulia. The representatives of the clergy, led by Metropolitan Teofil (1692–7) and Metropolitan Atanasie Anghel (1698–1713), signed three declarations proclaiming the union of the ‘Church of Romanians in Transylvania’ with the ‘Catholic Church of Rome’, accepting ‘all the elements believed and confessed by this Church’ and the four elements of faith discussed at the Council of Florence (the ‘Florentine points’). The Eastern rite with its own traditions and institutional organisation was preserved. At the same time, the Romanians requested political, social and economical rights promised by Emperor Leopold I shortly after the political integration of Transylvania into the empire (equal rights with Roman Catholic s were mentioned in the imperial patent of 1692 and were later confirmed by imperial diplomas in 1699 and 1701). For the success of the Union, an essential role was played by the Jesuits, among whom Ladislau Baranyi, the chaplain of the Roman Catholic Church in Alba Iulia, was specifically mentioned in the documents of union.6 Thus was born the Romanian Greek Catholic Church, known also as the Uniate Church of Transylvania. Its hierarchical seat was initially at Alba Iulia, and later moved to Făgăraș, in the South of the country, following the

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principle that there could not be two Catholic hierarchs in the same city and the Roman Catholic bishop had traditionally resided in Alba Iulia. Făgăraș proved to be inappropriate as it was in the middle of a region with a majority Orthodox population which rejected the union. In 1737, with the help of Emperor Charles VI, the hierarchical seat was moved to Blaj during the pastoral rule of Bishop Inochentie Micu Klein, becoming a highly symbolic place of identity for Transylvanian Greek Catholicism. This chapter examines the institutional evolution of the Romanian Greek Catholic Church from its establishment at the end of the seventeenth century until today. It focuses on the Romanian Greek Catholic Church’s relations with the Orthodox communities in Transylvania and with other regions which were part of Greater Romania after 1918. With the spread of communist regimes throughout Central and Eastern Europe after the Second World War, the Romanian Greek Catholic Church was abolished and incorporated into the structures of the Romanian Orthodox Church. The Church remained an underground community until 1989. The chapter investigates the adaptation of the Church to political pressures and the ways in which the Church relates to contemporary Romanian politics and society.

The institutional evolution of the Romanian Greek Catholic Church The institutional evolution of the Romanian Greek Catholic Church from 1700 to 1948 can be divided into four stages. The first stage lasted from the end of the seventeenth century until the impact of the reforms promoted by Maria Theresa and Joseph II, and the rule of Bishop Grigore Maior (1773–82). The second followed chronologically from 1773 until 1850, a phase of transition, of continuous transformation and implementation of new ecclesiastical institutions, determined by state reforms. A degree of institutional stability was experienced during the rule of Bishop Ioan Lemeni (1832–50). The third period began with the rise of the Uniate Church to metropolitan rank in 1853 and continued until 1918, when Transylvania united with the Romanian state at the end of the First World War. The fourth stage was marked by the events of the interwar period, when the Greek Catholic Church found itself in a novel political and national context as a minority church in a predominantly Orthodox state, a situation which has lasted until today. The first period was characterised by its maintaining the institutions of the seventeenth century. The Uniate Church functioned with its traditional institutions (bishop and general synod – called ‘the Great Synod’ – at the central level, and archpriests at the local level), while Latin influences had only a minimal impact.7 In the very first years of the union, two important changes took place at an institutional level, namely the founding of the bishopric and the introduction of a new system for the election of bishops. The novelty consisted in the transformation of the Metropolitan See of Transylvania (the status of the Romanian Orthodox Church at the moment of its union with Rome in

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1700) into a bishopric, a decision taken during the rule of the unionist hierarch Atanasie Anghel and officially confirmed in 1721 through the papal bulla Rationi congruit issued by Pope Innocent XIII. The decision that asserted the independence of Uniate hierarchs from the Roman Catholic Bishop of Alba Iulia did not institutionally affect their position as church leader. The Uniate bishop was considered by the Habsburg authorities as the sole ecclesiastical authority for Transylvanian Romanians.8 The second modification imposed on the Uniate Church was made in the election of bishops. The Great Synod, the main institution of the Church, gathering together archpriests and representatives of church districts, lost its decisive role. From this moment, the synod had to elect three candidates. Its vote was rather consultative, as the emperor in Vienna was the authority who appointed a new hierarch without even being bound to choose the candidate who received the majority of votes in the synod. Furthermore, the emperor could appoint a fourth candidate, fully ignoring the suggestion made by the local clergy. The chosen hierarch was subsequently confirmed by the Pope. The significance of this process was evident between 1713, the year of Atanasie Anghel’s death, and 1850, when only three hierarchs out of seven (Petru Pavel Aron, Grigore Maior and Ioan Lemeni) received the largest number of votes in the Great Synods of 1751, 1772 and 1832. From a structural perspective, the Uniate hierarch was assisted at the central level by a general vicar (with the first mentioned as early as 1701), which was a new institution in the Uniate Church. The general vicariate was of Latin inspiration and suggested by the Jesuits, who remained a constant presence in the life of the Church until the abolition of their order (a Jesuit theologian accompanied the Greek Catholic bishops, supervising them and preserving the faith). The bishop also benefited from the assistance of a consistory, created in 1728, which had twelve members (assessors) appointed from among the archpriests. This institution was known as the ‘Little Synod’ and was also of Latin origin. The establishment of a synod of the twelve assessors represented an attempt to get closer to the organisational structure of a Catholic diocese, and proof of maintaining a collegial leadership system which was closer to the Orthodox institutional model. Despite its shortcoming during this period, the main religious institution remained the Great Synod. It was a representative institution, whose decisions had normative direction for the whole Church. The Synod met annually and ensured control over the activity of the bishop, being composed of the highest ecclesiastical authority, archpriests, ordinary priests and at times laymen. The Synod was successively organised until 1772, demonstrating the collegial model of ecclesiastical leadership. It was a guarantor of the defence of the rights of the clergy, and of the archpriests in particular, as they represented the church elite of the time. From 1747 an Eastern-style Monastery of the Holy Trinity functioned in Blaj, housing monks of the Basilian order. They replaced the prebendaries of a Latin capitulum, at a time when the bishopric of Făgăraș did not have

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a proper institution of this kind. The recommendation that monks should act as advisers, teachers and missionaries in the diocese had been given by papal bull in 1721.9 Consequently, the monastery went beyond its spiritual purpose and became a body with an important role in the administration of the diocese and in theological education. It represented the adaptation of a typical Western institution, the capitulum, to the effective realities of the Uniate bishopric. At local level, the diocese was divided into districts led by archpriests. The number varied from fifty-two districts in 1701, to forty-four in 1733 and to seventy-five in the first half of the nineteenth century. The reduction of territory offered the opportunity for a more efficient administration and control over each district, since they functioned as a veritable micro-diocese. The archpriest was assisted by a synod attended by priests under his rule and at times by representatives of laymen. From the 1750s, in addition to administrative and juridical prerogatives, the synods of archpriests were used by bishops for collecting statistical data regarding the state of the parishes. Significant changes took place in the second period under the influence of the reforms imposed by the Viennese court, with limited influence from Rome.10 The reformist policy of Maria Theresa and Joseph II aimed to strengthen state influence over the Church. The state sought to have better control over its territory and employed ecclesiastical institutions in order to achieve this goal. At the same time, the state claimed patronage in fields of activity that were traditionally the Church’s responsibility, such as education and healthcare. A consequence of this policy was the limiting of the Church’s external links. Reforms were various, such as the restriction and the strict supervision by state authorities of direct relations between the Catholic hierarchy and the Holy See; the obligation of the clergy to declare loyalty to the throne; the Edict of Tolerance in 1781; the decree for the suppression of a number of monasteries; the reduction in the number of religious festivals; the interdiction of synods without the explicit approval of the emperor; the implementation of a number of ritual and matrimonial regulations; the transmission of decisions communicated by imperial decree through bishops’ pastoral letters; and the existence of a register for imperial orders in each parish. All these elements affected the institutional evolution of the Uniate Church. On the other hand, the Church found itself at a moment when the need for modernisation and transformation was both obvious and urgent. The ecclesiastical administration that often only partially controlled the territory of a large diocese needed to become more efficient, as for example the Catholic diocese of Făgăraș, the largest in the empire. The central institutions of Blaj did not have a clear image of local communities. Problems occurred as a result of the diverse and complicated confessional mixture, especially in the border areas with direct contact with the extra-Carpathian Orthodoxy, and also from the bishops’ difficulty in imposing their authority over the local clerical elite, as the archpriests continued to maintain significant influence in their districts.

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The changes made between 1772 and 1850 under the impulse of the imperial reforms affected traditional institutional structures. The most significant transformation took place at a central level. In 1777 the Annunciation (Buna Vestire) Monastery, the second monastery in Blaj, which had been opened during the rule of Bishop Petru Pavel Aron, was closed. In 1781, by a decree of Emperor Joseph II, the number of monks from the most important monastery, that of the Holy Trinity, was reduced to eleven, while the monks were only permitted to work in the field of youth education. In 1804 three monks remained, and only two were noted in 1821.11 In spite of attempts to revitalise monastic life in Blaj and the Uniate Church in general, signs of a revival were noticeable only towards the end of the nineteenth century and during the interwar period (the monasteries of Bixad and Nicula, which were important spiritual centres for Transylvanian Greek Catholicism, flourished mainly in the third and fourth decades of the twentieth century). Under these circumstances, the leadership system of the diocese was seriously affected, as monks formed a central part of the consistory as permanent members. The measures taken to reform the central administration of the diocese focused on two approaches, the foundation of a capitulum cathedralis in 1807 under the rule of Bishop Ioan Bob (1782–1830) and the reform of the consistory to give it a wider structure. The consistory was joined by representatives of archpriests, of vicarii foranei (another institution of Latin origin introduced in the Uniate Church at the end of the eighteenth century), of professors from the Blaj Theological Academy (fully restructured in 1831) and of the monastery. The new changes led to a process of centralisation of power with ecclesiastical authority being gradually concentrated in the hands of the bishops and those bodies under their direct rule. This reality was also strengthened by the diocesan synod, which was influenced by the position of the Austrian state that opposed the gathering of large ecclesiastical assemblies that could easily deviate into political and national movements. On the other hand, the bishop’s authority was severely reduced, especially after the constitution of the capitulum and the renovation of the consistory. Between 1773 and 1850, the Great Synod met only six times for the election of a new bishop or for declarations of loyalty to the emperor. The only occasions when ecclesiastical and educational matters were discussed were in 1821 and 1833, with the 1821 synod being called upon the recommendation of the Hungarian primate, the Archbishop of Esztergom, for the purpose of analysing the disciplinary, moral and educational state of the clergy. The limited power of the diocesan synod led to a deviation from the collegial system of leadership of Eastern origin towards a more hierarchical and pyramidal system that brought the Uniate Church of Transylvania closer to the model of organisation and functioning of a Roman Catholic bishopric. This was the model followed by the Greek Catholic elite in the process of reformation of the ecclesiastical institutions. The rule of Bishop Ioan Bob represented a period of transition in the search for the most appropriate

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solutions, with a certain degree of stability being reached towards the end of the 1830s.12 Bob’s successor, Bishop Ioan Lemeni (1832–50) was not an innovator, trying rather to consolidate the latest results.13 This period was short, as another series of unavoidable changes occurred at the moment when the bishopric of Făgăraş was raised to the rank of metropolitanate while two other bishoprics were created, namely Gherla and Lugoj. The authority of the bishop was consolidated essentially through two methods: the concentration of the power of decision in his hands and in bodies directly led by him; and the prerogative of appointing to functions on every level of the hierarchy – members of the capitulum, the consistory, professors of the academy, vicars, archpriests, parish priests, in parallel with the Latin system of leadership. In 1853 the bull Ecclesiam Christi of Pope Pius IX raised the bishopric of Făgăraș to metropolitan rank, officially titled the Metropolitan See of Alba Iulia and Făgăraș, a name which it has retained until today. The first elected metropolitan was Alexandru Șterca Șuluțiu (1853–68).14 Three subordinate bishoprics were also established, namely the diocese of Oradea (founded in 1777 in the Bihor area outside the Principality of Transylvania)15 and those of Lugoj and Gherla.16 These structural transformations led to other challenges as several organisational models coexisted for a rather long period of time in the territory of the metropolitan church. In the archdiocese of Alba Iulia and Făgăraș, the pre-1850 institutional and administrative models continued to function, whereas the diocese of Oradea had the same structure as the Latin bishopric which was maintained until the beginning of the twentieth century. On the other hand, the new dioceses of Lugoj and Gherla took over structural elements characteristic of Oradea that coexisted alongside the institutional realities specific to Blaj. After 1870 a tendency to uniformity was apparent which imposed a single model – that of the central administration in Blaj – remaining possible in the interwar period. The administrative territorial structure of the Greek Catholic Church in Romania became complete only in 1930, when a new diocese of Maramureș was established for the northern part of the country. The period after 1850 was marked by a great effort to redefine the specific and fundamental elements of the theological, doctrinal, disciplinary and ritual system of the Uniate Church. This aim was achieved in the years that followed the participation of Romanian church leaders at the First Vatican Council17 (Metropolitan Ioan Vancea, 1869–92,18 and Bishop Iosif Pop Szilagyi of Oradea), during three provincial synods in 1872, 1882 and 1900. They asserted the Eastern specificity of Transylvanian Greek Catholicism, but also aligned the Church to doctrinal perspectives supported by Rome. In 1918 Transylvania united with Romania, which brought about a new situation for the Romanian Uniate Church, namely that of a minority church.19 Relations with the Romanian Orthodox Church were marked by tense moments at both central and local levels. The most significant was the conclusion of the Concordat between the Romanian state and the Vatican in 1929,

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as a result of negotiations started in 1918, and which led to protests from the Orthodox hierarchy, clergy and lay associations.20 The Greek Catholic Church was included alongside the Roman Catholic Church in the treaty, which had a unitary vision, stating that in Romania there is only one Catholic Church with three rites, namely Latin (Hungarians, Germans, Romanians), Greek (Romanians, Ruthenians) and Armenian (Armenians). In addition, in the 1920s and 1930s, a significant phenomenon was the development of a number of associations throughout Transylvania and Bucharest such as AGRU – the General Association of the Romanian Uniate Faithful – in 1929, and ASTRU – the Association of the Romanian Uniate Students – in 1929–31, influenced by Catholic Action, a trend promoted globally by Pope Pius XI.

The identity discourse of the Romanian Greek Catholic Church The identity discourse of the Greek Catholic Church in Transylvania was elaborated around several characteristic elements including its denomination (the name of the Church and the faithful),21 faith, rite, tradition, history, relations between the Church and the nation and the concept of otherness. The identity discourse was elaborated by the hierarchy and the clerical elite and transmitted to the faithful through the parochial clergy.22 The elaboration and delivery of the identity discourse was superficial in the first half of the eighteenth century and become a priority in the 1750s. The catalyst was the anti-unionist activity conducted in Transylvania by Orthodox missionaries, the most well known and successful being Visarion Sarai in 1744 and Sofronie from Cioara in 1759–60.23 The Uniate Bishop Petru Pavel Aron (1751–64) initiated the promotion of the identity discourse through various methods, such as printing of books, catechisms, brochures and fliers, preaching, canonical visitations and organising local church synods. The identity discourse was evident in Floarea adevărului [Flower of Truth],24 published in 1750, in the four editions of Învățătura creștinească [Christian Teaching], 1755–63, in Păstoriceasca poslanie [Pastoral Letter] of Petru Pavel Aron in 176025 or the eight editions of the Great Catechism between 1783 and 1853. These publications analysed the four ‘points’ of the Council of Florence and insisted on the fact that the Union was made in fide and not in ritu, thus attempting to clarify the reasons why the Union had been made, to present the Church of Rome and to reject Orthodox missionising. In the second half of the eighteenth century, a new type of discourse was elaborated, drawing its theoretical basis from the text of Floarea adevărului and focusing on certain themes and principles that would remain basically unchanged until the interwar period, such as the Union having followed the model of the Council of Florence; through the Union Romanians returned to union with the Catholic Church, the true Church of Christ; through the Union, Romanians restored the link with Rome interrupted by the Slav occupation of their territories in the sixth century; the Uniate Church was the true

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successor of the Eastern Church; the Union was made in faith; by accepting the four ‘points’ of the Council of Florence, the faith was re-established, a necessary condition for redemption; these four ‘points’ were not a novelty created by the Union, as they have also been part of the Eastern Church; the faith promoted by the Uniate Church was based on the scriptures, the Fathers of the Church and the Ecumenical Councils – mentioning eight ecumenical councils, not seven as in Orthodox Christianity – and the holy books of the Eastern Church; the Union preserved the unaltered Greek rite and traditions; the Uniate Church preserved the books of the Holy Fathers; the Uniate Church retained autonomy inside the Catholic Church; the history of the Union was closely connected to the evolution of the Romanian nation; through the Union, the Latin roots and origins of the Romanian people were rediscovered; the clergy and the people were raised out of the ‘darkness’ caused by a lack of education; furthermore, through the Union, Romanians were included in Western civilisation. The identity discourse of the Uniate Church presented by Greek Catholic authors from the eighteenth century until the dissolution of the Church after the Second World War emphasised the idea that the Church was the national church of Romanians, in spite of the fact that in many cases success was possible only after cooperation between all Romanians, either Uniate or Orthodox, clergy or lay. Between 1700 and 1948, the relationship between the nation and the Uniate confession continually developed and strengthened.26 In the first half of the eighteenth century, the Uniate Church lacked an intellectual elite. The church leader who made the first steps to creating a real intellectualism was Inochentie Micu Klein (1732–51). He sent the first young men, such as Petru Pavel Aron, Silvestru Caliani, Grigore Maior, Gherontie Cotore, Atanasie Rednic (most of whom were monks), to study abroad in Trnava, Rome, Vienna and the Jesuit school at Cluj. They formed the basis of the cultural programme developed in Blaj, became the first professors in schools that opened their doors after 1754 and supported active editorial activity in the new printing house established in Blaj in 1747,27 and which reached its most significant moment in 1795 with the publication of a monumental edition of the Bible. The contribution of the Uniate Church to Romanian cultural development followed various directions. After studies abroad, mainly in Rome and Vienna, several generations of intellectuals were formed. Among them, the best known were Petru Maior, Samuil Micu and Gheorghe Șincai, who in the last decades of the eighteenth century and the beginning of the nineteenth century created a cultural trend known as the Transylvanian School (Școala Ardeleană).28 They produced a large number of theological works, but also the first Romanian grammar in 1783, and publications in the fields of literature, history and philosophy. They also attempted to write in Romanian with Latin characters, as in the Carte de Rogaciuni [Prayer Book] in 1779, replacing the Cyrillic alphabet with Latin in the mid-nineteenth century. The second important direction was education, with Blaj representing one of the most

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important Romanian cultural centres in Transylvania until 1918.29 The theological seminary was raised to academic level in 1831, as the first institution of this kind. From a political point of view the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries were marked by the Romanian fight for recognition of their national rights.30 A prime role was played by Inochentie Micu Klein, the bishop who was the only representative of the Romanian nation in the Transylvanian Diet. Micu Klei was the author of the memo entitled Supplex Libellus in 1743 that demanded state authorities the political equality of Romanians with other nations. From this moment onward, a series of church leaders would become involved in key national political moments, with an impact on the life of all Romanians, regardless of their religious confession, such as the Supplex Libellus Valachorum in 1791 and 1792 with Bishop Ioan Bob (alongside Orthodox Bishop Gherasim Adamovici), Samuil Micu and Petru Maior; other Supplex movements in 1834 and 1842, organised in Blaj around Simion Bărnuțiu (professor of philosophy in the Theological Academy); the Revolution of 1848 and 1849; the movement of the Memorandum in 1892 and 1894; and the union of Transylvania with Greater Romania in 1918, the official declaration of which was read to the popular masses by the Uniate bishop Iuliu Hossu.

Adaptation and survival: the Romanian Greek Catholic Church in the twentieth century The establishment of Greater Romania in 1918 represented the most significant challenge for the institutional structure and the identity discourse of the Greek Catholic Church.31 The Orthodox Church was the dominant confession in the country, with around 72.6 per cent of believers in 1930. The second most important confession in the country was the Greek Catholic Church, with 7.9 per cent, followed by the Roman Catholic Church, which grew from 2.5 per cent in 1899 to 6.8 per cent in 1930. Other major religions confessions were the Jewish community with 4.2 per cent, the Reformed Calvinist Church with 3.9 per cent and the Lutheran Church with 2.2 per cent.32 Transylvania continued to remain the most ethnically diverse of all Romanian provinces, and in which the Orthodox Church and the Greek Catholic Church each represented around 30 per cent of the population. This fact was officially acknowledged in the 1923 Constitution, which declared the Romanian Orthodox Church the ‘dominant’ church of the state and also offered the Greek Catholic Church an honorific first place among other religions (art. 22).33 After 1918 relations between the Orthodox and the Greek Catholics were tense, and conflict arose mainly as a result of the financial and political positions of their church leaders, with each side accusing the other of proselytism. In a book published in Arad in 1923 which presented data from 1910 from Hungarian sources, the author, named as ‘a man of the Church’, argued that the Roman Catholic Church in Hungary numbered 9,010,305, which represented 49.5 per cent of all religions. The Catholics were in possession of

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88 per cent of the entire land of all the religious confessions, representing 1 unit of land for 6 people. The Greek Catholic Church numbered 1,900,000 and 7 people to 1 unit of land. Other religious confessions were dispersed as follows: the Unitarian Church numbered 74,245, with 78 people to 1 unit of land; the Reformed Church, 2,603,381, with 89 people to 1 unit of land; the Lutheran Church, 1,306,384, with 325 people to 1 unit of land. The Orthodox Church numbered 2,339,979, representing 13.1 per cent of all religious confessions in Hungary and 115 people to 1 unit of land. The Orthodox faithful in Hungary were divided between the Serbian Orthodox Church and the Romanian Orthodox Church. The Serbs numbered 454,431, with 24 people to 1 unit of land, while the Romanians accounted for 1,798,669 and 1,777 people to 1 unit of land. The author concluded that the huge discrepancy in land possession between religious confessions was a direct measure against the Romanian people, aimed at attracting them to Catholicism or to the Greek Catholic Church. Although the author of this book remained anonymous, his position reflected the concerns of the Orthodox Church, as his findings were published in the Church’s main journal, Biserica Ortodoxă Română [Romanian Orthodox Church].34 The signing of the Concordat with the Vatican in Rome on 10 May 1927, and the general law on religious confessions in 1928, which offered better status to other churches and religions, were perceived by Orthodox Church leaders as threats to their spiritual authority. One Orthodox prelate even accused the politicians of being unaware that other religions were in fact the ‘Trojan horses’ of other states which had the political intention of destabilising the country and destroying Romanian unity.35 The religious disagreement between the Greek Catholic Church and the Orthodox Church was most clearly apparent when they entered into parliamentary debates, with each church claiming that they were the real protectors of the Romanian faith.36 An example of this was the statement in Parliament of the Greek Catholic bishop Iuliu Hossu that ‘We brought [to the people in Transylvania] national awakening by preserving the Latin soul of Romanians … [and] unity with Rome was made by faith.’ In contrast, the Orthodox reaction was expressed by Bishop Lucian Triteanul, who responded rhetorically, ‘Which faith? Did not the Orthodox Church have the ecumenical faith that was above that of Rome?’37 This type of discourse remained the dominant feature of the interwar Uniate Church showing the difficulty of inter-religious relations. Romania became a People’s Republic on 30 December 1947, through Law 363, which abolished the monarchy, representing the start of a new era for church–state relations. The country was ruled by a Presidium, while on 4 January 1948 King Michael was forced to leave the country.38 The government’s intention to control all aspects of social life had a direct impact on the Catholic and Uniate churches. If the Orthodox leadership was infiltrated by people from the regime, the Catholic Church, with its hierarchy imposed by the Vatican, was seen as a major threat to the construction of Romanian communism. This perception was clearly acknowledged by

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Gheorghe Gheorghiu-Dej, the leader of the party, when he publicly attacked the Vatican in the Grand National Assembly.39 Following this line, on 17 July 1948 the government decreed the abolition of the Romanian Concordat with the Vatican, thereby affecting the organisation of the Catholic Church in Romania. A few months later, a further decree on 18 September reduced the number of Roman Catholic sees from six to two and all its schools were taken over by the state.40 Discussions amongst the party leadership on the abolition of the Concordat showed how the Communist leaders regarded the role of religion in society. The minutes of the meeting of the Council of Ministers on this matter are extremely informative. Ana Pauker, Minister of Foreign Affairs, stated that ‘the so-called Vatican State is an unfortunately strong agency … of world imperialists and American monopolists’;41 Stanciu Stoian, Minister of Religious Confessions, argued that while the Orthodox Church had eighteen bishops and 12 million faithful, the Vatican had eleven bishops in Romania (five Roman Catholics, five Greek Catholics and one Apostolic Administrator for Armenia) for only 2 million faithful, and its hierarchy received their salaries from the Romanian state. He suggested that in this way, the Roman Catholic Church was in fact ‘a State within a State’.42 Emil Bodnăraş, Minister of National Defence, proposed how the government should act on this matter. In his opinion, the government should take a different attitude towards the Catholic hierarchy and its faithful. It should not attempt to convince the hierarchy to obey it but rather should speak directly to the masses. If the faithful saw that the government maintained contact with the Catholic hierarchy, then they would still believe in their religious leaders.43 Prime Minister Petru Groza indicated that he had recently met Bishop Hossu, one of the main leaders of the Uniate Church, to convince him that the government did not want any martyrs. In conclusion, Groza suggested controlling the hierarchy financially, by refusing to pay their salaries, and in the following months the government would decide what course it should take from case to case.44 At the same time as the denunciation of the Concordat with the Vatican, a delegation of the Romanian Orthodox Church participated in the PanOrthodox Congress celebrating 500 years of the autocephaly of the Russian Orthodox Church in Moscow.45 The congress was attended by the most important Orthodox leaders of those countries under communist rule, namely Patriarch Aleksii of Moscow, Patriarch Kalistrate of Georgia, Patriarch Justinian of Romania and Patriarch Gavrilo of Yugoslavia. In discussions the Romanian delegation was active, and presented reports on the most current issues in Orthodoxy and politics.46 At the end of the conference, on 17 July 1948, on the same day that Romania denounced the Concordat with the Vatican, Patriarch Justinian signed with the other members of the congress an ‘Appeal towards all Christians from all over the world’ urging them to be united in ‘good understanding, unity, peace and brotherhood’. The appeal asked the faithful to be prepared for a new war, dividing the world into two parts, between the Catholic and Protestant West and the Orthodox East, the

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aggressors and the peace makers.47 Having abolished the Concordat with the Vatican and secured the political subservience of the Orthodox Church, the government turned its focus to the second largest religious confession in Romania, the Greek Catholic Church. On 3 September 1948 the Uniate Bishop Ioan Suciu, apostolic administrator of the archdiocese of Alba Iulia and Făgăraş, was removed from his position. On 18 September three further bishops suffered the same fate: Valeriu Traian Frenţiu of Oradea, Alexandru Rusu of Maramureş and Ioan Bălan of Lugoj. The only Uniate Church leaders who were allowed to remain in their sees were Bishop Iuliu Hossu of ClujGherla and Vasile Aftenie, vicar-bishop of the archdiocese of Alba Iulia and Făgăraş, resident in Bucharest.48 The abolition of the Uniate Church was intended to represent the climax of ‘religious freedom’ in communist Romania and the historical moment when Romanians were fully united. According to communist propaganda, unification with the Romanian Orthodox Church was due to a popular movement which had started from within the Uniate Church. It was an action which represented the freedom of the people to unite with their ‘mother church’, something that could only happen in the new Romania. In addition, the union was designed to be a symbolic act of the people who were liberated from the suffering of the past and who would achieve unity again. On 1 October 1948, under pressure from the state security service (Securitate), 38 Uniate priests gathered in the sports building of a high school in Cluj and, in the name of 430 priests, 37 of them signed the union of the Uniate Church with the Orthodox Church, appealing to their faithful to follow their decision.49 The action of these priests was not recognised by the Uniate leadership and on the same day they were excommunicated by Bishop Hossu. Furthermore, on 7 October Gerald Patrick O’Hara, the Apostolic Nuncio in Romania, sent a letter of protest to the Presidium of the Great National Assembly,50 while other Uniate leaders sent another letter of protest to Prime Minister Groza. The Orthodox Church supported the government, and on 3 October 1948 Patriarch Justinian received the delegation of thirty-six priests in Bucharest, welcoming the Uniate Church into the Orthodox Church. The minutes of the Central Committee of the Communist Party on 8 October showed that Bishop Hossu started to organise conferences in six Transylvanian counties, excommunicating those who were in favour of unification with the Orthodox Church. In addition, even within the Orthodox Church some priests were against the leadership’s decision and continued to support Uniate freedom.51 In a symbolic gesture, on 17 October, Patriarch Justinian replied to Uniate anathematisation of those who accepted unification by issuing his own blessing. The Uniates’ protests were disregarded by the government, and on 21 October, in the cathedral in Alba Iulia, on the 250th anniversary of the establishment of the Uniate Church, Patriarch Justinian read out the proclamation of the union of the Greek Catholic Church with the Orthodox Church.52 On

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27 and 29 October, one week after these festivities, six Uniate bishops were arrested for publicly opposing unification and were sequestered at a rest home in Dragoslavele in Argeş county belonging to the Romanian Patriarchate, while twenty-five Uniate priests were arrested and sent to Neamţ monastery. Fearing a mass reaction, such as occurred after the arrests of religious leaders in Bulgaria and Hungary, the government refused to organise an immediate public trial of these clerics. Suppression of the Uniate hierarchy continued on 27 February 1949, when these clerics were moved to Căldăruşani monastery and from there, on 24 May 1950, to Sighet prison. Bishop Vasile Aftenie was sent to Văcăreşti prison, where he died on 10 May 1950. In September 1950 Bishop Ioan Suciu was sent to Sighet prison, where he died on 27 June 1953. The Uniate Church was completely abolished, and in the following years eleven Uniate bishops died in prison. Despite the Orthodox Church’s public support for the abolition of the Uniate Church, and communist propaganda, large parts of the Greek Catholic faithful continued to preserve their faith. A Securitate report from 6 November 1948 indicated that some Uniate priests clandestinely celebrated religious ceremonies in private houses in Oradea, Braşov and Ciuc, while Uniate nuns dressed in peasant clothes preached a Pastoral Letter of Bishop Suciu regarding an alleged divine vision in Blaj. According to this revelation, the Virgin Mary appeared to a Uniate nun asking all to remain faithful to the Pope and their bishops. Moreover, in other cities, such as Beiuş, the Uniate faithful refused to attend Orthodox ceremonies participating instead in Roman Catholic masses.53 The unification also failed in monastic life, as of 146 Uniate monks only 10 joined the Orthodox Church.54 However, officially, the government completed its domination of the Uniate Church by confiscating all of its properties on 1 December 1948 and offering most of its churches and other buildings to the Orthodox Church.55 Even after the official unification of the Orthodox and Greek Catholic churches, the Orthodox hierarchy remained conscious of the religious implications and the people’s reactions. For this reason the Patriarch and leading Orthodox hierarchs continued to maintain relations with the Uniate hierarchs. This was clear when on 4 December Justinian and Archimandrite Teoctist Arăpaşu visited the arrested Uniate bishops at Dragoslavele and a few days later the Holy Synod discussed the organisational structure of the Orthodox Church.56 Consolidation of the Orthodox Church at the expense of the abolished Uniate Church functioned not only at hierarchical level but also in the parishes. In May 1949 the Orthodox hierarchy sent a special mission of priests to persuade the population to convert to Orthodoxy.57 The pressure increased when, in order to offer an example to those who still opposed unification, the Ministry of Religious Confessions decided on 29 May that financial support from the government for bishops Aron Marton and Anton Durcovici, 3 canons, 132 priests and other administrative officials of the Roman Catholic Church was to be retrospectively confiscated from 1 February.58

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The Orthodox Church emphasised its position regarding Uniate unification at the meeting of the National Clerical Assembly on 6 June 1949. The meeting included for the first time former members of the Greek Catholic Uniate Church, while the communists were represented by Prime Minister Groza; Stoian, Minister of Religious Confessions; V. Mârza, Minister of Health; with Anton Alexandrescu and Romulus Zaroni as delegates of the Great National Assembly.59 One of the most important decisions of the assembly was the election on 8 June of Teofil Herineanu, a Uniate priest for seventeen years, who agreed to collaborate with the Orthodox Church and the communists as Bishop of Roman and Huşi. Teofil was elected by fifty-eight votes, while the other candidates received an insignificant number: Archimandrite Teoctist Arăpaşu four votes, Archimandrite Benedict Ghiuş three votes and six votes were invalid.60 Patriarch Justinian reinforced Bishop Teofil’s position in the Orthodox bishopric, and on 28 August 1949 participated at his enthronement in Roman, congratulating him in the name of the Holy Synod. At the end of the Assembly, the Holy Synod sent official telegrams to communist officials assuring them of the continuous support of the Church. Religious pressure increased even further after the Uniate bishops Marton and Durcovici were arrested on 20 and 26 June 1949.61 At a time when the Orthodox Church closely followed Soviet directives, the last members of the Roman Catholic hierarchy who still opposed the communists went on trial in one of the strongest acts of religious persecution under communism in Romania. Despite forced unification of the Greek Catholic Church with the Orthodox Church, only 400 out of 1,800 Uniate priests obeyed the government decision. Even if it had officially ceased to exist, the communists felt that the unification of the Uniate Church could not be complete without the removal of the Catholic hierarchy from their positions. Moreover, some communists even asked for the unification of the Roman Catholic Church with the Orthodox Church. Between 10 and 17 September 1951 the regime put the most important leaders of the Uniate and Catholic churches on trial, accused of treason, acts against the state and of working for Italian espionage. The most important leaders, Bishop Augustin Pacha of Timişoara,62 monsignors Iosif Schubert, Albert Borosh, Iosif Waltner, Father Pietro Ernesto Gatti and Ion Heber and other laymen were tried by a military court in Bucharest, which sentenced them to imprisonment.63 After the death of Stalin in 1953, Romania embarked on the path of national communism. Romanian national communism aimed at offering a distinct voice behind the Iron Curtain, and this stance had a direct effect on the Greek Catholic faithful. A significant number of the clergy remained underground and thought that the restoration of their Church as a politically motivated decision was a matter of time. This was evident in 1957, when a rather unusual public demonstration in support of the Uniate clergy was held in Cluj. However, the failure of full integration of the Uniate faithful led to further religious pressure in the following years. One year later, on 21 October 1958, at the commemoration of ten years of the unification of the

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Uniate Church with the Orthodox Church, Patriarch Justinian gave a speech in Alba Iulia aimed at reinforcing unification. The liturgy was celebrated with great pomp by Metropolitan Nicolae Bălan of Transylvania, bishops Teofil of Cluj, Valerian of Oradea and six clerics. At the end of the religious service, Petru Aştileanu, a well-known Uniate priest who had refused unification since 1948, publicly addressed the crowds in the name of himself and sixteen other Uniate priests. He declared that they had decided to ‘return’ to the Romanian Orthodox Church and asked for forgiveness from the hierarchy and the faithful for opposing unification until then. Aştileanu’s gesture demonstrated that the Orthodox Church faced continuous difficulties in assimilating the Uniate Church and that this type of obedience mainly came through the support of the Securitate.64 The existence of an underground Uniate Church in the 1950s and the 1960s showed the limit of the communist regime in integrating it into the structures of the Orthodox Church. The Uniate faithful continued to support a church torn by Cold War divisions. However, the Soviet repression of the Hungarian revolution and Western recognition of the status quo of communist regimes affected all the Uniate churches throughout the Eastern bloc. Fearing increasing popular dissatisfaction, the Romanian regime ensured that the Uniate leadership was refused a public voice from those such as Bishop Alexandru Rusu, who was sentenced to twenty-five years and died in Gherla prison in 1963. After Nicolae Ceauşescu assumed power in 1965, Romania continued with national communism. Romanian leaders welcomed the visit of their Western counterparts, while high-ranking communists toured Western countries in support of economic and political interests. Religious liberty remained a contended issue and in many cases featured at international meetings. While officially the Orthodox Church was presented as enjoying the full support of the regime, with a number of other religious confessions recognised by the state, the Greek Catholic Church was declared extinct in Romania. When Patriarch Justinian visited Brussels in 1972 he publicly declared that there were no Greek Catholics in the country, a statement which angered the international media. The official party line on religious policy towards the Uniate Church did not change even after President Ceauşescu was granted an audience with Pope John Paul II in 1973, followed by Monsignor Poggio being allowed to visit Bucharest. The 1975 Helsinki movement and discussions on religious liberty behind the Iron Curtain increased the hopes of the Uniate underground communities. Two years later, on 29 June 1977, a number of clergy and faithful in Bucharest organised themselves into the ‘Committee for the Salvation of the Greek Catholic Church’ and appealed to the political authorities for the restitution of the Church. Furthermore, in 1980 three underground bishops, Alexandru Todea, Ioan Dragomir and Ioan Ploscariu, contacted the Romanian diaspora and appealed for Western pressure for religious freedom in Romania; however, all these actions produced no result. Internally, prelates

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were under the close scrutiny of the Securitate, and dissatisfaction with the regime abroad was heavily criticised by the Romanian authorities. When, on 6 January 1982, Pope John Paul II publicly addressed the possibility of reconstituting the Uniate Church, Patriarch Justin Moisescu criticised the Vatican, claiming Catholic interference in Romanian religious and political life.65 The Uniate Church remained a highly political issue in Romania throughout the communist period and only political changes throughout the Eastern bloc would lead to new developments. In an unusual act, on 13 October 1989, a few days before the fall of Ceauşescu’s regime, the Uniate leadership wrote a letter to the President demanding official recognition. Although their request was not immediately granted, it demonstrated that the Church continued to remain a significant presence in Romania. After the fall of the communist regime in December 1989, the Greek Catholic Church reappeared as an active member of the confessional life in Romania. On 2 January 1990, the 1948 decree was dissolved. The bishoprics were reorganised following the previous interwar structure, diocesan theological seminaries were reopened and parishes were reactivated in the regions where the faithful were again present. On 14 March 1990, Pope John Paul II appointed bishops in five Uniate dioceses, with the Church being led by Metropolitan Alexandru Todea, who was appointed cardinal in 1991. Todea was replaced by Metropolitan Lucian Mureșan in 1994, who was appointed cardinal on 6 January 2012. On 16 December 2005, Pope Benedict XVI raised the Romanian Greek Catholic Church to the rank of Major Archiepiscopal Church, thus advancing its position among the Eastern Greek Catholic churches. The official recognition of the Church put forward a new model of identity discourse. The question ‘What does it mean to be a Greek Catholic after the 1990s?’ became a significant mark for the new community in comparison to the pre-1948 situation. Confessional identity has changed significantly, due to the underground status of the Church during the communist regime. The period of illegality influenced the faithful’s perception of the Church and the relationship between the ‘Catholic faith’ and the ‘Greek rite’. Describing the situation of the Greek Catholic Church, in a discourse on 13 October 2001 at the 5th General Assembly of the Bishops’ Synod for the Middle East, Bishop Virgil Bercea of Oradea reminded listeners that his church was in minority in Romanian ‘being the expression of that happy and providential synthesis in full communion with the See of Saint Peter, and having at the same time the richness of the thesaurus of the Byzantine spiritual, liturgical and disciplinary tradition’.66 This ‘richness’ between East and West takes also into account the martyrdom of the Greek Catholic bishops in communist prisons. The identity discourse of the Romanian Greek Catholic Church after the fall of communism has focused on a number of elements which take into account both the pre-1948 and post-1989 elements, namely communion with Rome in faith; the Byzantine rite and church tradition; the impact of communist persecution and discussion on canonising the Uniate bishops; and the

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evolution of a church in minority. In addition, the Church began to reassert its connection with Romanian nationalism, as evident in August 1997, when the remains of Bishop Inochentie Micu Klein, a key figure in the defence of the rights of Romanians in Transylvania in the eighteenth century, were returned to the country and buried in Blaj. The 2002 Romanian census revealed that only 195,481 people declared themselves Greek Catholics, a disputed number which led to increasing tension with the Romanian Orthodox Church. The Greek Catholic hierarchy claimed church membership of around 700,000 believers, while the 2006 statistics from the Vatican showed Romania to have 1,225 worshipping communities, 791 priests, 291 women religious and 272 seminarians; outside Romania, the most important communities remain in the USA and Australia. The issue of property restitution, a stumbling block throughout the former Eastern bloc, led to dissatisfaction between the Uniate and Orthodox communities. In 1998 both churches established a bilateral commission discussing property restitution. The commission was active until 2004 without reaching a compromise. Despite the Uniate leadership agreed to reducing the number of claims from 2,600 properties to nearly 300, there remains dispute on the best means on tackling this issue.67 The 2011 Romanian census showed that the Uniate and the Orthodox churches retained a comparable number of believers to the first years after the fall of communism.

Conclusion From its establishment at the end of the seventeenth century in Transylvania in the Habsburg Monarchy, to contemporary Romanian society, the Romanian Greek Catholic Church evolved in a particular geographical environment of inter-confessional and inter-ethnic diversity, while at the same time facing external influences. The Church has constantly adjusted and adapted to a series of social and political challenges, such as the consolidation of institutional structures; the need for internal modernisation; the concept of a ‘Romanian nation’, when national consciousness was formed and strengthened; tense relations with the Orthodox Church in Transylvania and in Greater Romania after 1918, at a time when the Orthodox Church faced a similar development and process of modernisation; dealing with pressure from Rome aiming to impose its Latin standards; the underground church; and the establishment and maintaining of close links with the state. These challenges have had an impact on the Church, which has defined itself as both a Church of the Eastern rite and tradition and as a Western, Catholic faith intrinsically linked to Romanian nationalism. The Greek Catholic Church denotes an ecclesiastical corpus of multiple identities: universal through its inclusion in the Catholic world; Western through faith and link with the Church of Rome; Eastern through tradition; and local through its connection to the historical evolution of the Romanian nation.

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Appendix 1

Religious leaders

• •

Metropolitan Alexandru Todea (1912–2002), in office 1990–4, appointed cardinal in 1991 by Pope John Paul II Metropolitan Lucian Mureşan (1931–), in office 1994–, appointed Archbishop Major in 2005 by Pope Benedict XVI, and cardinal in 2012 by Pope Benedict XVI.

2

Biography

Title: Archbishop Major (Arhiepiscop Major) of Alba Iulia and Făgăraş. Lucian Mureşan was born on 23 May 1931 in Firiza, Maramureş county. He studied theology at the Roman Catholic Theological Seminary from Alba Iulia (1955–9), together with other four young Greek Catholics, protected by Bishop Marton Aron. He was unable to graduate thanks to the communist authorities, who asked him to leave the seminar. On 19 December 1964 he was ordained priest and performed clandestinely. After the death of Bishop Ioan Dragomir of Maramureş, in 1985, he was appointed ordinaries of this bishopric. After the fall of the communist regime in December 1989, he was appointed and ordained on 27 May 1990 Bishop of Maramureş. In 1994, he became Metropolitan and Archbishop of Alba Iulia and Făgăraş. On 16 December 2005, Pope Benedict XVI raised the Romanian Greek Catholic Church to the rank of Major Archbishopric, and, therefore, Archbishop Mureşan enjoys patriarchal attributions according to the Code of Canons of the Eastern Churches.68 3

Theological publications

• • • • •

Viata Creştină [Christian Life], Cluj-Napoca Unirea [The Union], Blaj Vestitorul, Oradea Deşteptarea Credinţei [Revival of the Faith], Dej, Cluj county Foaia diecezana a Lugojului [Journal of the Lugoj Diocese], Lugoj.

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Congregations

Structure of the Church:69 major archbishopric; 1 archbishopric, Alba Iulia and Făgăraş; 4 bishoprics, Cluj-Gherla, Maramureş, Oradea Mare and Lugoj; 3 vicariates; 75 deaneries, 763 parishes. The preliminary data from the 2011 census showed 160,275 Greek Catholic faithful.70 Number of clergy and church buildings: 761 priests, 470 churches, of which 5 are cathedrals (plus over 300 churches in construction),71 41 monks, 121

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nuns;72 25 different congregations are active in the Greek Catholic Church in Romania: the order of St Basil (the specific Greek Catholic congregation for men and women); the Society of Jesus, the Assumptionist order and the Franciscan order.

Notes 1 Enrico Morini described this state, characteristic also for the Church of the Romanians from Transylvania, as a ‘state of emergency’, a period of severe crisis that demanded a reformation, a revival. E. Morini, ‘L’ Identità delle Chiese Orientali Catoliche: prospetive storiche’, in L’Identità delle Chiese Orientali Catoliche, Vatican City: Libreria Editrice Vaticana, 1999, pp. 61–2. 2 For the activity of the Jesuits in Transylvania, see Lucian Peris, Prezențe catolice în Transilvania, Moldova și Țara Românească 1601–1698 [Catholic Presence in Transylvania, Moldavia and Wallachia, 1601–1698], Blaj: Buna Vestire, 2005, pp. 123–229; Vasile Rus, Operarii in vinea Domini. Misionarii iezuiți în Transilvania, Banat și Partium (1579–1715), vols 1–2 [Operarii in vinea Domini. The Jesuit Missionaries in Transylvania, Banat and Partium (1579–1750)], Cluj-Napoca: Presa Universitară Clujeană, 2007. 3 For the situation of Catholic status in Transylvania, see Mathias Bernath, Habsburgii şi începuturile formării naţiunii române [The Habsburgs and the Beginning of the Establishment of the Romanian Nation], Cluj-Napoca: Dacia, 1994, pp. 73–86. 4 An important event for the history of the phenomenon of ecclesiastical union took place at the end of the seventeenth century (1685–90), in the context of the Habsburg Counter-Reformation, when a part of the Romanians, Greeks and Ruthenians from the Satmar region accepted union with the Catholic Church. The Synod of Mintiu (near Satu Mare) in 1690 proclaimed unity – the communities and the Uniate priests from the area entered under the jurisdiction of the Greek Catholic bishop of Munkacevo (Joseph of Camillis). For this union and for the activity of bishop Joseph of Camillis, see Ovidiu Ghitta, Naşterea unei biserici [The Birth of a Church], Cluj-Napoca: Presa Universitară Clujeană, 2001. 5 Ovidiu Ghitta, ‘Implicaţii spirituale ale consolidării dominaţiei habsburgice în Ungaria Superioară şi Transilvania (secolul XVII–începutul secolului XVIII)’ [Spiritual Implications of the Habsburg Consolidation in Superior Hungary and Transylvania (the 17th Century and the Beginning of the 18th Century)], in Cultură şi societate în epoca modernă [Culture and Society in Modern Era], N. Bocşan, N. Edroiu and A. Răduţiu (eds), Cluj-Napoca: Dacia, 1990, pp. 33–4. 6 For the events that led to the Union, see Zenovie Pâclișanu, Istoria Bisericii Române Unite [The History of the Romanian Greek Catholic Church], Ioan Tâmbuș (ed.), Târgu-Lăpuș: Galaxia Gutenberg, 2006; Greta Monica Miron, Biserica grecocatolică din Transilvania. Cler şi enoriaşi (1697–1782) [The Greek Catholic Church in Transylvania. Clergy and Faithful (1697–1782)], Cluj-Napoca: Presa Universitară Clujeană, 2004, pp. 33–64. 7 For the evolution of the ecclesiastical institutions between 1697 and 1782, see Miron, Biserica greco-catolică din Transilvania. 8 In Transylvania during these decades the Greek-Catholic hierarch remained the only ecclesiastical authority for the Romanians. The Orthodox faithful obtained approval for a bishop only in 1759 as a result of the great anti-unionist activity of the monk Sofronie from Cioara from 1759 to 1761. 9 O. Bârlea, ‘Biserica Română Unită şi ecumenismul Corifeilor renaşterii culturale’ [The Romanian United Church and the Ecumenism of the Leaders of the Cultural Rebirth], Perspective [Perspectives], 1983, 3–4, pp. 45–6; Miron, Biserica greco catolică din Transilvania, p. 102.

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10 For the institutional development from this period, see Daniel Dumitran, Un timp al reformelor. Biserica Greco-Catolică din Transilvania sub conducerea episcopului Ioan Bob (1782–1830) [A Time of Reforms. The Greek Catholic Church of Transylvania under the Leadership of Bishop Ioan Bob (1782–1830)], Bucharest: Scriptorium, 2005, pp. 39–106; Ciprian Ghișa, Episcopia greco-catolică de Făgăraș în timpul păstoririi lui Ioan Lemeni (1832–1850) [The Greek Catholic Bishopric of Făgăraş during the Leadership of Bishop Ioan Lemeni], vol. 1, Cluj-Napoca: Argonaut, 2008. 11 Augustin Pop, ‘Călugării de la Blaj şi rolul lor în viaţa culturală a neamului’ [The Monks from Blaj and their Role in the Cultural Life of the Nation], Cultura Creştină [Christian Culture], 1937, 4–5, 319–21; Ioan Rațiu, ‘Din trecutul ordului Bazilitan’ [From the Past of the Basilian Order], Anuarul Institutelor de Învăţământ Greco-Catolice din Blaj (1911–1912) [The Annals of the Greek Catholic Institutes from Blaj (1911–1912)], vols 58 and 59, Blaj, 1912. 12 For the pastoral rule of bishop Ioan Bob, see Dumitran, Un timp al reformelor. 13 For the pastoral rule of bishop Ioan Lemeni, see Ghișa, Episcopia greco-catolică de Făgăraş. 14 For the pastoral rule of metropolitan Alexandru Șterca Șuluțiu, see Ioana Mihaela Bonda, Mitropolia Română Unită în timpul păstoririi lui Alexandru Şterca Şuluţiu (1853–1867) [The United Romanian Metropolitanate during the Leadership of Alexandru Şterca Şuluţiu (1853–1867)], Cluj-Napoca: Presa Universitară Clujeană, 2008. 15 For the evolution of the bishopric of Oradea, see Iudita Căluşer, Episcopia GrecoCatolică de Oradea [The Greek Catholic Bishopric of Oradea], Oradea, 2000. 16 For the evolution of these two new bishoprics, see Ana Victoria Sima, O episcopie și un ierarh. Înființarea episcopiei greco-catolice de Gherla și organizarea sa în vremea episcopului Ioan Alexi [A Bishopric and a Hierarch. The Establishment of the Greek Catholic Bishopric in Gherla and its Organisation during Bishop Ioan Alexi], Cluj-Napoca: Presa Universitară Clujeană, 2003; Luminita WallnerBărbulescu, Zorile modernității. Episcopia greco-catolică de Lugoj în perioada ierarhului Victor Mihalyi de Apșa [The Dawn of Modernity. The Greek Catholic Bishopric of Lugoj during Hierarch Victor Mihalyi of Apșa], Cluj-Napoca: Presa Universitară Clujeană, 2007. 17 For the participation of Romanian hierarchs at Vatican I, see Nicolae Bocșan, Ioan Cârja, Biserica Română Unită la Conciliul ecumenic Vatican I [The Romanian United Church at the First Ecumenical Vatican Council], Cluj-Napoca: Presa Universitară Clujeană, 2001. 18 For the pastoral rule of metropolitan Ioan Vancea, see Ioan Cârja, Biserică și societate în Transilvania în perioada păstoririi mitropolitului Ioan Vancea (1869– 1892) [Church and Society in Transylvania during the Pastoral Leadership of Metropolitan Ioan Vancea (1869–1892)], Cluj-Napoca: Presa Universitară Clujeană, 2007. 19 For the evolution of the Greek Catholic Church in the interwar period, see: Ioan Marius Bucur, Din istoria Bisericii Greco-Catolice Române (1918–1953) [From the History of the Romanian Greek Catholic Church (1918–1953)], Cluj-Napoca: Accent, 2003. 20 Regarding the reaction of the Orthodox Church to the Concordat, see Ciprian Ghișa, ‘Întărind vechi alterităţi, ridicând noi frontiere: Concordatul dintre România şi Vatican – 1929’ [Supporting Old Alterations, Rising New Fronties: The Concordat between Romania and the Vatican – 1929], Studia Universitatis Babeş-Bolyai, Theologia Catholica, 2010, 55 (4), 43–56. 21 The title ‘Uniate’ was given to the new Church by governmental circles in Vienna. The name ‘Greek Catholic’, unused in the Latin documents of the first half of the

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24 25 26 27

28 29 30

31 32

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eightheenth century was promoted especially after the general synod of Uniate bishops from the Habsburg Empire called by Maria Theresa that took place in Vienna in 1773. For the evolution of the identity discourse of the Uniate Church from Transylvania, see Ciprian Ghișa, Biserica Greco-Catolică din Transilvania (1700–1850). Elaborarea discursului identitar [The Greek-Catholic Church from Transylvania. Elaboration of the Identitary Discourse], Cluj-Napoca: Presa Universitară Clujeană, 2006; Ciprian Ghișa, Ioana Bonda and Petru Magdău, ‘Coordonatele discursului identitar greco-catolic în secolul al XIX-lea’ [The Lines of the Greek Catholic Identity Discourse in the 19th Century], in Confessional Identities in Central-Oriental Europe in the 17th–21st Centuries, N. Bocșan, A. V. Sima and I. Cârja (eds), Cluj-Napoca: Presa Universitară Clujeană, 2009, pp. 453–68. For information regarding these anti-unionist movements, see Greta Monica Miron, Biserica greco-catolică din comitatul Cluj în secolul al XVIII-lea [The Greek Catholic Church in Cluj Comitat in the 18th Century], Cluj-Napoca: Presa Universitară Clujeană, 2007. See the text, Floarea adevărului [The Flower of Truth], Cristian Barta (ed.), ClujNapoca: Argonaut, 2004. See the text, Păstoriceasca poslanie sau Dogmatica învățătură a Besericii Răsăritului [The Pastoral Letter or the Dogmatics of the Eastern Church], Cristian Barta (ed.), Cluj-Napoca: Argonaut, 2004. Robert F. Taft, Eastern-Rite Catholicism. Its Heritage and Vocation, Glen Rock, NJ: Paulist Press, 1963, pp. 5–6. For the activity of the printing house of Blaj, see Gabriela Mircea, Tipografia din Blaj în anii 1747–1830 [The Printing House in Blaj between 1747 and 1830], Alba Iulia: Altip, 2008; Petru Magdău, ‘Tipografia de la Blaj. 1850–1918’ [The Printing House in Blaj. 1850–1918], in Tipografia de la Blaj 1850–1918. Contribuții documentare [The Printing House in Blaj. 1850–1918. Documentary Contributions], P. Magdău, I. Bonda, C. Cârja and C. Ghișa (eds), Cluj-Napoca: Presa Universitară Clujeană, 2010, pp. 9–43. Pompiliu Teodor, Sub semnul iluminismului. Samuil Micu [Under the Sign of Enlightenment. Samuil Micu], Cluj-Napoca: Presa Universitară Clujeană, 2000. For the evolution of the academic environment in Blaj, see Iacob Mârza, Şcoală şi naţiune. Şcolile de la Blaj în epoca renaşterii naţionale [School and Nation. The Schools in Blaj in the Era of National Rebirth], Cluj-Napoca: Dacia, 1987. Ladislau Gyemant, Mişcarea naţională a românilor din Transilvania între anii 1790 şi 1848 [The National Movement of Romanians in Transylvania between 1790 and 1848], Bucharest: Editura Ştiinţifică şi Enciclopedică, 1986; Sorin Mitu, Geneza identităţii naţionale la românii ardeleni [The Genesis of National Identity for Romanians in Transylvania], Bucharest: Humanitas, 1997. Lucian N. Leustean, Orthodoxy and the Cold War. Religion and Political Power in Romania, 1947–65, Basingstoke: Palgrave, 2009. Recensământul Populaţiunei din Decembrie 1899 [Census of the Population of December 1899], Bucharest: Eminescu, 1905; Institutul Central de Statistică, Recensământul General al Populaţiei României din 29 decembrie 1930, publicat de Dr Sabin Manuilă [General Census of the Population of Romania of 29 December 1930, published by Dr Sabin Manuilă], vols 2–4, Bucharest: Monitorul Oficial, Imprimeria Naţională, 1930. For more on relations between the Romanian Orthodox Church and the Greek Catholic Church, see Keith Hitchins, Orthodoxy and Nationality: Andreiu Şaguna and the Rumanians of Transylvania, 1846–1873, Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1977; Romanians. 1774–1866, Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1996; A Nation Affirmed: The Romanian National Movement in Transylvania, 1860–1914,

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35 36

37 38

39 40

41 42 43 44 45

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Bucharest: The Encyclopaedic Publishing House, 1999; A Nation Discovered: Romanian Intellectuals in Transylvania and the Idea of Nation, 1700–1848, Bucharest: Encyclopaedic Publishing House, 1999; The Rumanian National Movement in Transylvania, 1780–1849, Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1969; Mircea Păcurariu, Istoria Bisericii Ortodoxe Române [The History of the Romanian Orthodox Church], Bucharest: IBMBOR, 1981. ‘Un om al bisericii’ [A Man of the Church], Papism şi Ortodoxism în Ardeal sau Porfiră şi cunună de spini. Studiu statistic bisericesc [Papism and Orthodoxism in Transylvania or Porphyry and Thorn Wreath. A Study of Clerical Statistics], Arad: Tiparul tipografiei diecesane, main points reproduced in I. Mihalcescu, ‘Cronica interna’ [Internal Chronicle], Biserica Ortodoxă Română [The Romanian Orthodox Church] (BOR), 1923, 7, pp. 535–9. Arhiereu Grig. L. Botoşăneanu, ‘Biserica Ortodoxă Română şi celelalte confesiuni’ [The Romanian Orthodox Church and Other Confessions], BOR, 1928, 6, p. 487. Nicolae Bălan, Biserica neamului şi drepturile ei. Discurs rostit la discuţia generală asupra proiectului de lege a cultelor, în şedinta dela 27 martie 1928, a senatului român [The Church of the People and its Rights. Speech presented in the General Discussion on the Proposed Law of Religious Confessions, in the Meeting on 27 March 1928 at the Romanian Senate], Sibiu: Tiparul Tipografiei Arhidiecezane, 1928. ‘Spicuiri în cuvântările dela Senat despre Legea Cultelor’ [Quotations from Senate Speeches on the Law of Religious Confessions], BOR, 1928, 5, 459–61. The Presidium was composed of Constantin I. Parhon, President of the Romanian Association for Friendship Relations with the Soviet Union, who was named as President of the Presidium, and the following members: Mihail Sadoveanu, President of the House of Deputies, Ştefan Voitec, Minister of Education, Gheorghe Stere, President of the Appeal Court in Bucharest and Ion Niculi, VicePresident of the House of Deputies. Emil Ciurea, ‘Religious Life’, in Captive Rumania: A Decade of Soviet Rule, Alexandre Cretzianu (ed.), London: Atlantic Press, 1956, pp. 174–5. Marius Bucur and Lavinia Stan, Persecuţia Bisericii Catolice în România. Documente din arhiva Europei Libere, 1948–1960 [The Persecution of the Catholic Church in Romania. Documents from the Archive of Radio Free Europe, 1948– 60], Târgu-Lăpuş: Galaxia Gutenberg, 2004. Ioan Lăcustă, 1948–1952. Republica Populară şi România [People’s Republic and Romania], Bucharest: Curtea Veche, 2005, p. 51. Ibid., p. 53. Ibid., pp. 57–8. Ibid., p. 59. The Romanian delegation was composed of Patriarch Justinian, Archbishop Firmilian of Craiova, bishops Antim of Buzău and Nicolae Colan of Cluj, Fr Petre Vintilescu, dean of the Theological Institute in Bucharest, Fr Simion Neaga as translator and Ovidiu Marina, son of the Patriarch, as secretary. Ovidiu Marina, 30 de zile în URSS [30 Days in the USSR], Bucharest: Editura Institutului Biblic şi de Misiune Ortodoxă, 1949. The Romanian delegation presented the following reports: ‘The Attitude of the Vatican towards Orthodoxy in the Last Thirty Years’; ‘The Possibility of Recognising the Validity of Priesthood in the Anglican Church’; ‘The Orthodox Church and the Ecumenical Movement’; and a short note on the problem of the religious calendar. ‘Referatele prezentate de delegaţia Bisericii Ortodoxe Române la Conferinţa Ortodoxă de la Moscova’ [Reports Presented by the Delegation of the Romanian Orthodox Church at the Orthodox Conference in Moscow], Ortodoxia, 1949, 1, p. 29.

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47 Actes de la Conférence des Chefs et des Représentants des Églises Orthodoxes Autocéphales Réunis à Moscou à l’Occasion de la Célébration Solennelle des Fêtes du 500ème Anniversaire de l’Autocéphalie de l’Église Orthodoxe Russe, 8–18 juillet 1948, Moscow: Éditions du Patriarcat de Moscou, 1950. 48 Cristian Vasile, Între Vatican şi Kremlin. Biserica Greco-Catolică în timpul regimului communist [Between the Vatican and the Kremlin: The Greek Catholic Church during the Communist Regime], Bucharest: Curtea Veche, 2003; Istoria Bisericii Greco-Catolice sub regimul communist, 1945–1989. Documente şi mărturii [The History of the Greek Catholic Church under the Communist Regime, 1945–1989. Documents and Testimonies], Iaşi: Polirom, 2003. 49 André Kom, ‘Unificarea Bisericii Unite cu Biserica Ortodoxă Română în 1948’ [The Unification of the Uniate Church with the Orthodox Church in 1948], in Studii de Istoria Bisericii [Church History Studies], Ovidiu Bozgan (ed.), Bucharest: Editura Universităţii din Bucureşti, 2000, pp. 88–124. 50 Ovidiu Bozgan, ‘Nunţiatura Apostolică din România în anii 1948–1950’ [The Apostolic Nunciature in Romania between 1948–50], in Biserică, Putere, Societate. Studii şi Documente [Church, Power, Society. Studies and Documents], Ovidiu Bozgan (ed.), Bucharest: Editura Universităţii din Bucureşti, 2001, p. 132. 51 Stenogramele şedinţelor Biroului Politic al Comitetului Central al Partidului Muncitoresc Român, vol. 1, 1948 [The Minutes of the Meetings of the Political Office of the Central Committee of the Romanian Workers’ Party, vol. 1, 1948], Bucharest: Arhivele Naţionale ale României, 2002, pp. 267–9. 52 ‘Cuvântarea IPSS Justinian Patriarhul României rostită cu ocazia unirii’ [The Speech of His Holiness Justinian, the Patriarch of Romania given on the occasion of unity], Sighet: Tipografia Gheorghe Cziple, 1949. 53 ASRI, Fond D, Dossier 2488, vol. 1, ff. 186–92, in Cristina Păiuşan and Radu Ciuceanu, Biserica Ortodoxă Română sub regimul communist 1945–1958 [The Romanian Orthodox Church under the Communist Regime 1945–1958], vol. 1, Bucharest: Institutul Naţional Pentru Studiul Totalitarismului. Colecţia Documente, 2001, p. 85. 54 ASRI, Fond D, Dossier 2488, f 103, ibid., p. 94. 55 The decree was abolished on 31 December 1989. 56 ASRI, Fond D, Dossier 7755, vol. 3, f. 159, in Păiuşan and Ciuceanu, Biserica Ortodoxă Română, p. 98. 57 Gh. Vintilescu, ‘Raportul sectorului administrativ bisericesc din administraţia patriarhală’ [Report of the Clerical Administrative Sector from the Patriarchal Administration], BOR, 1949, 7–10, p. 64. 58 Robert Tobias, Communist–Christian Encounter in East Europe, Indianapolis: School of Religion Press, 1956, p. 333. 59 ‘Omagiul adus IPS Patriarh Justinian de Adunarea Naţională Bisericească’ [Homage to His Holiness Justinian by the National Clerical Assembly], BOR, 1949, 7–10, p. 1. 60 ‘Colegiul Electoral pentru alegerea episcopului Eparhiei Romanului şi Huşilor’ [The Electoral Collegium for the Election of the Bishop of the Bishopric of Roman and Huşi], BOR, 1949, 7–10, p. 158. 61 Tobias, Communist–Christian Encounter, p. 334. 62 At eighty-one, Bishop Pacha was sentenced to eighteen years in prison but was released on 31 July 1954 and died shortly after. 63 Ciurea, ‘Religious Life’, p. 189. Bucur and Stan, Persecuţia Bisericii Catolice în România, pp. 56–8. 64 Mitropolia Moldovei şi Sucevei [Journal of the Metropolitanate of Moldova and Suceava], Iaşi: Metropolitanate of Moldova and Suceva, 1958, p. 694.

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65 George Cipaianu, ‘The Romanian Greek Catholic Church under Communism’, in Ethnicity and Religion in Central and Eastern Europe, Maria Craciun and Ovidiu Ghitta (eds), Cluj: Cluj University Press, 1995, pp. 370–80. See also Sergiu Grossu, Calvarul Romaniei [Romania’s Ordeal], Iaşi: Convorbiri Literare, 1992, pp. 40–2. 66 P. S. Virgil Bercea in Vestitorul (Oradea), series I, 2010, 19 (4), p. 7. 67 Metropolitan See of Cluj, Alba, Crişana and Maramureş, Present Relationship between the Orthodox and the Greek-Catholics in Romania, 2006, Cluj-Napoca: Renaşterea Publishing House, 2006. 68 Preafericitul Parinte Lucian Muresan. Documentar biobibliografic aniversar [His Highness Father Lucian Muresan], Ana Grigor (ed.), Baia Mare: Biblioteca Judeţeană ‘Petre Dulfu’ [Petre Dulfu County Library], 2011, available at http:// www.bibliotecamm.ro/caiete/muresan_lucian.pdf (accessed 8 January 2014). 69 Data from http://www.culte.gov.ro/biserica-romn-unita-cu-roma-greco-catoli. See more information on www.bru.ro (accessed 13 June 2013). 70 See: http://www.recensamantromania.ro/wp-content/uploads/2012/08/TS7.pdf (accessed 13 June 2013). 71 Data from http://www.culte.gov.ro/biserica-romn-unita-cu-roma-greco-catoli (accessed 13 June 2013). 72 Data from http://www.bru.ro (accessed 13 June 2013).

33 The Bulgarian Eastern Catholic Church Daniela Kalkandjieva

In 2010 the Bulgarian Eastern Catholic Church celebrated its 150th anniversary. Its historical development passed through two major stages. The first of them, connected with the Ottoman Empire, begins with the declaration of Bulgarian Union on 18 December 1860 and ends with the Balkan wars (1912–13). The second was provoked by wartime changes to the Balkan political map (1912–18) that caused a mass resettlement of about 10,000 Bulgarian Eastern Catholics from the former Turkish provinces of Macedonia and Edirne Thrace to interwar Bulgaria.1 These stages differ not only in their geo-political, socio-economic and demographic specificities but also by the legal status of the Bulgarian Eastern Catholic Church. If within the Ottoman millet system this church enjoyed not only religious liberties, but some internal civil autonomy, including the right to issue identity certificates, it had a difficult time gaining recognition as a religious minority in interwar Bulgaria, where Orthodox Christianity was constitutionally the dominant religion. No less dramatic was the communist rule that almost brought the Eastern Catholic Church to extinction. This turbulent past, however, still remains under-explored by Bulgarian historiography. The most studied period of Bulgarian Eastern Catholic Church history concerns the declaration of Union and some events during the Ottoman period, while its twentieth-century development has become a topic of research only recently. As a result, the present image of the Eastern Catholic Church in Bulgarian society continues to be influenced by the dominant Orthodox and communist interpretations of its role in Bulgarian history. If the fall of communism deprived claims that Eastern Catholics were imperialist spies of legitimacy, the Orthodox view of them as people alienated from their nation and Orthodox faith continues to be shared by a considerable number of Bulgarians.2 This chapter therefore endeavours to shed new light on the recent history of the Bulgarian Eastern Catholic Church.

The Bulgarian Eastern Catholic Church in the Ottoman Empire The beginning of Eastern Catholicism in Bulgaria coincided with the most intensive period of the Bulgarian movement for the establishment of a national

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church (1856–70). The resistance of the Patriarchate of Constantinople and Russia, however, brought the successful realisation of this enterprise into question. Consequently, some of the leaders of the Bulgarian Church movement looked for an alternative solution – union with the Roman Pope. This was inspired to a great extent by the Armenian Catholics, who were declared a separate millet in 1831, when the Sultan recognised Archbishop Antoni Hasun as their religious and civil leader. Moreover, the Bulgarians learned an important lesson from the union declared by their compatriots from the region of Kukush in 1859: it had forced the Patriarchate of Constantinople to appoint an Orthodox bishop of Bulgarian origin for their region. Therefore, though the Kukush Union did not last long, it revealed the potential of the Roman Holy See as a guarantor of an ecclesio-juridical and civil independence of the traditionally Orthodox Bulgarians in the Ottoman Empire from the Patriarchate of Constantinople. Therefore, when the declaration for the establishment of an independent Bulgarian Orthodox Church on 3 April 1860 during Easter was not supported by the Sublime Porte, some of the leaders of the Bulgarian Church movement looked for the assistance of the Catholic clergy in the Ottoman Empire. During their preliminary conversations with Archbishop Antoni Hasun they investigated whether union with Rome would allow them to have a native primate or patriarch, i.e. to organise their church after the example of the Armenian Catholics.3 Only after this, on 18 December 1860, did a Bulgarian delegation of several Orthodox clerics and hundreds of laymen visit the mission of the order of St Lazarus in Istanbul and submit a petition for union with Rome, signed by 3,000 Bulgarians.4 The act was recognised by the Sublime Porte on the following day, while the Catholic Archbishop Paolo Brunoni appointed the Bulgarian Archimandrite Makarii as a temporary administrator of the so-called United Bulgarians. The Bulgarian unionist lay leaders, however, gave preference to Archimandrite Josif Sokolski. On 2 April 1861, he was consecrated in Rome by Pope Pius IX as the first Archbishop of the United Bulgarians. In this regard, it is important to notice that the first version of the Pope’s action referred to the new members of his Church as ‘Eastern Rite Catholics’. After the protest of Josif Sokolski, however, the Holy See adopted the term ‘United Bulgarians’.5 By that time the supporters of the Union distinguished themselves from their Latin rite compatriots by calling them ‘Catholics’.6 Although the term ‘Uniate’ appeared soon after the Union, it did not enjoy great popularity. Nor did it bear the negative connotation it had in the Russian Empire. In the Bulgarian case, the pejorative word for the supporters of Union with Rome was ‘papishtashi’, i.e. the Pope’s partisans. The term ‘Uniate’ thus has a relatively neutral connotation and continues to be widely used in contemporary Bulgarian historiography. Meanwhile, since the mid-1920s, the leadership of the Bulgarian Eastern Catholic Church has tried to impose ‘Eastern Catholics’ as the proper name for its community. On 1 June 1860, thanks to the mediation of the Archbishop Antoni Hasun and French diplomacy,7 the Sultan issued a special decree that recognised

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Josif Sokolski as the millet bashi of the United Bulgarians. Within the framework of the Ottoman millet system this status gave him not only religious but also civil power. In this way, Josif Sokolksi also became the head of the civil administration of the United Bulgarians, that is to say his duties included the issuing of identity certificates, collection of state taxes, etc. The members of the new community were also exempted from paying taxes to the Patriarchate of Constantinople. This advantage attracted many Bulgarians and the number of the Eastern Catholics grew to 30,000.8 Such a development, however, was contrary to Russia’s plans, and on 6 June Bishop Josif Sokolski was kidnapped from Istanbul, taken by ship to Odessa and then moved to Kyiv, where he was finally interned in the Holy Dormition Pochayiv Lavra until his death. This kidnapping inflicted a heavy blow on the young Bulgarian Eastern Catholic Church. The crisis was overcome when its leadership was taken up by Fr Rafail Popov. On 14 March 1864, he was appointed by the Pope as Apostolic Administrator of the United Bulgarians. In 1866 he moved the headquarters of his church from Istanbul to Edirne. During his tenure the community of United Bulgarians counted over 80,000 adherents.9 After the death of Bishop Rafail Popov, leadership of the Eastern Catholic Church passed to Bishop Nil Izvorov (1876–95), who reorganised its structure. In 1883 he established two vicariates: one in Edirne for the United Bulgarians in Edirne Thrace (including parts of Turkey and newly liberated Bulgaria) and another in Thessaloniki for the United Bulgarians in Macedonia (then in Turkey). The Thracian vicariate was given to Bishop Mihail Petkov, while that of Macedonia went to Bishop Lazar Mladenov. At the same time, Archbishop Nil Izvorov himself located his office in Istanbul, from where he would administer the entire Church and defend its interests before the Sublime Porte. In the mid-1890s the Bulgarian Eastern Catholic Church experienced another crisis, as in 1894 Bishop Lazar Mladenov joined the Bulgarian Orthodox Exarchate. In the following year, Archbishop Nil Izvorov did the same. Most probably their behaviour was influenced by the Bulgarian government, which, in the period 1890–7, had succeeded in obtaining seven decrees from the Sultan recognising the legitimacy of Bulgarian Orthodox metropolitans for the dioceses of Ohrid, Skopje, Veles, Nevrokop (presentday Gotse Delchev in Bulgaria), Bitolja, Debar and Strumitsa. Nevertheless, the Macedonian Eastern Catholic diocese survived thanks to the efforts of the new bishop, Epifanii Shanov. However, the Bulgarian Eastern Catholic Church lost its status of archbishopric. This was restored in 1907, when Fr Mihail Mirov was consecrated as archbishop of all United Bulgarians. Consequently, on the eve of the Balkan wars the Bulgarian Eastern Catholic Church had one archbishop and two bishops. Its Thracian vicariate had 4,350 believers in 20 parishes with 27 priests and 11 schools.10 The Macedonian vicariate had 10,140 believers with 27 parishes with 36 priests and 22 schools.11

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The Bulgarian Eastern Catholic Church in interwar Bulgaria Changes in the political map of Eastern Europe caused by the Balkan and European wars were reflected in the territorial and institutional organisation of the Bulgarian Eastern Catholic Church. Until then, there were about 15,000 Bulgarian Eastern Catholics in Turkey, while their number in Bulgarian state territory amounted to no more than 1,000. After the First Balkan War (1912), however, part of the territory of the Thracian diocese, principally Malko Tarnovo and its region, were transferred to Bulgaria. In the following years, the calamities of war caused a mass migration of Eastern Catholics from former Ottoman territories to Bulgaria. In the process of their resettlement they tried to stay close to their previous homes. As a consequence, the ‘Macedonians’ preferred the southwestern parts of Bulgaria and most of them came to Sofia, while the ‘Thracians’ chose areas in the southeast.12 Under these new circumstances Archbishop Mihail Mirov remained in Istanbul to care for those Eastern Catholics who remained in Turkey, while Bishop Mihail Petkov left Edirne and went to Bulgaria. For his part, Bishop Epifanii Shanov remained in Macedonia, the future of which was not clear until the end of the First World War. Arriving in Bulgaria, Bishop Mihail Petkov at first located his administration in Sofia, caring for all Eastern Catholics in Bulgaria, including refugees from Macedonia. Soon, however, the ‘Macedonians’ opposed his jurisdiction and therefore, in 1915, he moved to Plovdiv, where he was able to rely on the support of the ‘Thracians’. This division is explained by Svetlozar Eldarov by the different understanding of the Union among its supporters in Macedonia and Edirne Thrace that had taken shape in the period 1860–1912. This was rooted in the different missionary models used by the order of St Lazarus in Macedonia and the Assumptionist and the Resurrectionist orders in Thrace. The first was stricter in observing unchanged the rites and liturgy of the Byzantine Orthodox tradition as well as the religious customs of the United Bulgarians in Macedonia. In this region, almost all the clerics who had joined the 1860 Union were married priests, while in Thrace married clergy were the exception. The ‘Macedonians’ also differed from the ‘Thracians’ by their poorer theological training, as the St Lazarus missionaries did not send them to study in Western Catholic schools and universities as was the practice of the Assumptions and Resurrectionists for Eastern Catholics in Thrace. To this argument may also be added the differences in the geo-political situation and ethno-religious demography of the two provinces that stimulated a greater politicisation of the Union in Macedonia. As a result, the Eastern Catholics from Macedonia who found asylum in Bulgaria paid less attention to the religious aspects of their denomination. Being less aware of their theological specificity, it was easy for them to join the Bulgarian Orthodox Church after the exodus. Meanwhile, the Thracian Eastern Catholics began to identify themselves more with Roman Catholicism and less with the Byzantine rite, thus establishing closer relations with the leadership of the Latin rite Catholic community in Bulgaria.13

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Macedonian opposition to the rights of Bishop Mihail Petkov over the administration of the Eastern Catholic Church in Bulgaria increased when Bishop Epifanii Shanov also came to Bulgaria. Being imprisoned by the Greek authorities in 1916, he was released in March 1919, after the intervention of Archbishop Mihail Mirov in Istanbul and the commander-in-chief of the entente military units in the Balkans, General Franchet d’Espèrey. The Greeks, however, did not allow Bishop Epifanii Shanov to stay in his diocese, and he went to Bulgaria, where he settled in his native town, Kazanlak.14 His return intensified tensions between the Macedonian and Thracian sections of the Eastern Catholic community, and as a result, Mgr Mihail Petkov returned to Edirne, where he died on 7 May 1921. Soon afterwards Bishop Epifanii Shanov also asked to be allowed to retire for reasons of advanced age. Under these conditions the Apostolic Congregation for the Eastern Churches took measures to organise the religious life of its adherents in Bulgaria. In June 1921 it appointed Fr Hristofor Kondov as ‘Administrator of the Thracian Eastern Rite Diocese’ and elevated him to the rank of archimandrite. He also took care of the flock of the retired Epifanii Shanov. However, the demands of his task weakened the health of Archimandrite Hristofor and he retired.15 At the same time, Archbishop Mirov died in Istanbul on 17 August 1923. In this way, the Bulgarian Eastern Catholic Church found itself in a difficult situation: it had no hierarchy, while the community of believers continued to be divided and badly organised. In these difficult times, it was in the care of Mgr Vikentii Peev – the Latin rite Bishop of Plovdiv who acted as a mediator between the Holy See and the Bulgarian Eastern Catholics. In March 1924 he appointed Fr Josafat Kozarov, a Latin rite Catholic from his diocese, as a Provisional Administrator of the Eastern Catholic Vicariate in Bulgaria. During the short tenure of Fr Josafat until his death in November 1925 the name of his administration underwent several changes. He initially issued his instructions on behalf of the ‘Catholic Eastern Rite Metropolinate’. This then changed to the ‘Bulgarian Catholic Diocese’ and in the spring of 1925 he introduced the name ‘Apostolic Vicariate in Bulgaria’.16 The problem with the Eastern Catholic episcopate was finally solved by Archbishop Angelo Giuseppe Roncalli, who came as Apostolic Visitor to Bulgaria in 1925. After investigating the situation, he chose Fr Stefan Kurtev as the most appropriate figure to lead the local Eastern Catholics and appointed him as ‘Apostolic Proadministrator’ of the Eastern Catholic Diocese in Bulgaria.17 On 5 December he was consecrated in the basilica of St Clement in Rome. This place has special significance for Bulgarians as St Cyril – one of the holy brothers, who invented the Slavonic alphabet in the ninth century, is buried there. Consequently, upon his consecration Fr Stefan adopted the name Kiril.18 In this way, conditions were created for a normalisation of the administrative and religious development of the Bulgarian Eastern Catholic Church. On 6 February 1927, Bishop Kiril Kurtev was solemnly enthroned as Exarch of Bulgarian Eastern Catholics in the Sofia church dedicated to the Assumption.

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In his first encyclical letter of 17 April 1927 Mgr Kiril Kurtev presented the 1860 Union as a return to the medieval relations of Bulgaria with the Holy Roman See. He also made a firm statement that the Eastern Catholics were an inseparable part of the Bulgarian nation – something that the Orthodox majority in the country denied them.19 At the same time, he did not refer to his flock as ‘United Bulgarians’, but called them ‘Eastern Catholics’ or ‘Eastern-Slavonic rite Catholics’.20 Furthermore, a third of his encyclical letter was given over to explaining the appropriateness of this term. Mgr Kurtev justified its use by the universal nature of Christ’s Church, which does not differentiate between its members on national, linguistic or political grounds. In this way, he introduced a shift from the position of his predecessors, who had emphasised the significance of the Eastern rites and Slavonic liturgy for their congregation while avoiding the term ‘Catholic’. Instead the new leader of Bulgarian Eastern Catholics advanced a concept of religion as ‘a totality of dogmatic and moral truths’, while considering that ‘the rite is not an essential element of Christian faith’.21 In his view, the belonging of his flock to the Eastern rite was a historically constructed reality. If there was any necessity to keep it, it was not religious or theological, but national, that is to say, the Eastern rite united his Eastern Catholic flock with the rest of the Bulgarian people, who had adopted this rite from Byzantium in medieval times and had continued to observe it.22 The text under discussion reveals how the resettlement of Eastern Catholics in Bulgaria with its specific national legislation and political situation had brought about changes in the perception of their religious identity. If, during Ottoman times, they were geographically separated from the Latin rite Catholics who were concentrated in the regions of Nikopol, Chiprovtsi and Plovdiv, in the interwar period the resettled Eastern Catholics came into physical contact with the former, especially in the southern part of the country. This is why Mgr Vikentii Peev, responsible for the Latin rite diocese in southern Bulgaria, provided assistance to the Eastern Catholics when they lacked a hierarchy. The rapprochement between the two congregations was also assisted by the Assumptionists, whose order worked with both. Especially important, however, for the shift from Eastern rite to Catholic doctrine in the case of Bulgarian Eastern Catholics, was the change in their status after the exodus from former Ottoman territories. If the Bulgarian Eastern Catholic Church was treated there as one of the millets, thus sharing the same status as the Bulgarian Orthodox Exarchate established in 1870, it found itself in a different situation in interwar Bulgaria, where Orthodoxy was constitutionally proclaimed as the dominant religion. As a result, Eastern and Latin rite Catholics became religious minorities, whose loyalty to Bulgaria was put into question by the Orthodox majority in the country. Being a religious minority, the rights of Eastern Catholics were often suppressed by both the Bulgarian Orthodox Church and the national government and its local authorities. Although the post-war treaties for exchange of national and religious minorities with Greece foresaw the Bulgarian

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state as securing land for its refugees, this right was denied to those of them who belonged to Eastern Catholicism, until their ‘return’ to the Bulgarian Orthodox Church.23 At the same time, the Eastern Catholic Church did not receive any financial compensation for its church and school properties that remained in Greece after the First World War, although in 1931 Greece transferred a considerable amount of money to the Bulgarian government.24 Nor was the Eastern Catholic Church subsidised by the state budget.25 In many places, its adherents were banned from building churches, while their children were forced to take classes in Orthodox religious instruction.26 Especially aggressive were the attacks initiated by the metropolitans of Orthodox dioceses where Eastern Catholic refugees had settled, principally those of Sliven, Stara Zagora and Plovdiv. In some cases the physical repression of Eastern Catholics even ended with the murder of those who were most active.27 In this regard, the contrast between the acute religion-based conflicts in southeastern Bulgaria, where the Thracian Eastern Catholics were concentrated, and the lesser tensions in the Sofia region, where the Macedonians had settled, confirms the observation of Svetolozar Eldarov regarding the differences between the two groups. The rapprochement between the Eastern and Latin rite Catholics in interwar Bulgaria was also stimulated by the policy of the Holy See. In 1926 it introduced centralised financing for both communities thus reducing sources for mutual suspicions and internal tensions.28 No less important was the collaboration between the bishops of the two branches of Catholicism in Bulgaria within the Catholic Action framework that opened a new perspective for their cooperation on religious grounds. As a result, after the First World War, a large number of local Catholic societies were established that developed religious, cultural, educational and social activities. On 5 December 1928 the newspaper Istina [Truth], which was jointly issued by the Eastern and Latin rite Catholic churches in Bulgaria, reported that Catholic Action was organising adherents of both rites in order to establish a lay apostolate in collaboration with the clergy to offer assistance to believers in all spheres of their life.29 On 3–4 March 1929, a special congress was convoked in Plovdiv, aimed at uniting existing Catholic societies. It seemed that the Eastern Catholic Church had succeeded in stabilising its position in Bulgarian society. The Second World War, however, presented new challenges. In May 1941, Mgr Kiril Kurtev withdrew from office because of health problems and the care of his flock was entrusted to Fr Ivan Garufalov. By that time the community of Eastern Catholics had over 9,000 adherents, with 24 parishes served by 40 clerics.30 There were also two seminaries run by the Assumptionists (a major one in Plovdiv and a minor one in Yambol) and another under the supervision of the Resurrectionists that was initially opened in Malko Tarnovo and then moved to Stara Zagora. These educational institutions prepared clerics for their respective orders, and therefore, in 1934, Mgr Kiril Kurtev established a seminary in Sofia for the training of secular priests. On 6 July 1942, Pope Pius XIII appointed

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Mgr Ivan Garufalov as ‘Apostolic Exarch of the Catholics of Eastern rite in Bulgaria’.

The Eastern Catholic Church under communism The close relations established between Eastern and Latin rites Catholics continued after the coup d’état on 9 September, when the Bulgarian Communist Party came to power as a member of the Fatherland Front’s coalition of antifascist parties. Initially the new rulers did not persecute Catholic clergy of either rite. During the first weeks after the political change there were many killings without trial when scores of Orthodox clerics lost their lives. In this period, the Catholic Church lost only Fr Flavian Mankin (Latin rite), shot on 20 October 1944. In a similar way, the People’s Court (September 1944–May 1945) sentenced 152 Orthodox priests, while leaving the Catholic clergy untouched.31 Although many Catholic buildings were requisitioned by the occupying Soviet troops after 9 September, including the home of Opera Italiana Pro Oriente in Sofia, the international Catholic hospital in Plovdiv, the female college in Burgas and the Passionist monastery in Russe, these acts were directed against this particular Church, but affected other religious institutions as well.32 In general, the first government of the Fatherland Front (9 September 1944–31 March 1946) was supported by Eastern and Latin rite Catholics. One of the reasons concerns the Fatherland Front policy of breaking the previous alliance with Nazi Germany and taking the side of the Allied states in their struggle against fascism. As a consequence, all Bulgarians expected their new government to guarantee national sovereignty and to prevent territorial losses such as had happened in 1919. Therefore the initial steps of the Fatherland Front were supported by all religious and ethnic communities, with them even establishing their own Fatherland Front committees, e.g., Orthodox, Armenian, Muslim, etc.33 On 19 September 1944 Eastern and Latin rite Catholics also established a joint Fatherland Front committee. In their view it had to harmonise the religious and educational activities of their communities with the new state policy. Its first chair was Fr Damian Gyulov – the founder of Istina newspaper. The committee also included three other priests and five laymen. It is interesting that this initiative did not receive the support of the northern Bulgarian Latin rite diocese and became an organisation of the Eastern and Latin rites Catholics in southern Bulgaria.34 Despite the problems described, the Eastern Catholic Church was in a relatively good position in Bulgarian society during the first Fatherland Front government. In this regard some researchers point to the good relations of Mgr Ivan Garufalov with the Minister of the Public Works, Georgi Dragnev, who was a member of the Bulgarian Agrarian People’s Union and an alumnus of the Bulgarian Catholic Gymnasium in Edirne. Dragnev had assisted with solving the problems of the Catholic community which had been inherited from previous Bulgarian governments. If, before 9 September 1944, the

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Catholics had been impeded from repairing their churches or building new ones, the first Fatherland Front government allowed them to do so. As a result, the Eastern Catholic Church began the construction of a new place of worship in Topolovgrad and built a church in Kuklen in 1947. With the help of Minister Dragnev, Mgr Garufalov also secured the evacuation of the Eastern Catholic church in Svilengrad, then used by units of the military. In a similar way, he was able to overturn the intention of the Ministry of Social Policy to take over the Sofia orphanage run by the Eucharist Sisters.35 The friendship described, however, was not the main reason for the softer approach of the new rulers. Until the spring of 1947, the status of post-war Bulgaria was in question as a result of its previous alliance with Hitler. The Communist Party therefore cloaked its ambitions to establish full control over the country and was ready to make concessions. In the spring of 1946 it quickly withdrew its idea of nationalising Catholic orphanages and charitable enterprises.36 Although the Law on Labour Land Property (12 March 1946) made no distinction between existing religious denominations, it was strictly applied to the Bulgarian Orthodox Church, while passing over the Catholic Church. This special treatment of the latter was also motivated by the plan of the Bulgarian communists to win its support in the elections for the Great National Assembly in the autumn of 1946. These were of crucial importance for the Communist Party as the new deputies would have to decide the Constitution of post-war Bulgaria, thus legalising their power. In this regard, it is important to mention that if the first two governments of the Fatherland Front were headed by non-communists, the third, appointed on 23 November 1946, was chaired by Georgi Dimitrov – the leader of the Bulgarian Communist Party. The Fatherland Front also demonstrated a positive attitude to Catholics of both rites when the Apostolic Delegate to Bulgaria, Archbishop Giuseppe Mazzoli, died on 8 December 1945. His burial was attended by the Minister of Foreign Affairs, Petko Staynov, the Director of Religious Denominations, Konstantin Sarafov, and by Minister Georgi Dragnev, referred to above. Moreover, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs took care of the transportation of the Archbishop’s body to his grave in Plovdiv. In a similar way, on 13 December, the Bulgarian government demonstrated a readiness to welcome Don Francesco Galloni, appointed as temporary Apostolic Delegate in Sofia.37 Such behaviour was not provoked by a sincere sympathy on the part of Bulgarian statesmen towards the Catholic Church. In this case, the policy of Sofia was driven by pragmatic motives – to win the Vatican’s support for the Bulgarian cause during the Paris peace negotiations. On 26 January 1946, Petko Staynov, the Bulgarian Minister of Foreign Affairs, sent an unofficial memorandum on this subject to the Pope in Rome. It was followed by two others that rejected Greek claims to Bulgarian territories and explained the impossibility of Bulgaria paying reparations. It seems that the Holy See responded positively. In the autumn of 1946, the Bulgarian Prime Minister, Kimon Georgiev and the new Foreign Minister, Vassil Kolarov, even visited

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Archbishop Giuseppe Roncalli, who was famous for his sympathy to Bulgaria and happened to be Apostolic Nuncio in Paris precisely during the peace negotiations.38 The lack of certainty about the future of Bulgaria made its Communist Party keep a low profile as one of the political partners in the Fatherland Front government until the settlement of its post-war status. Until 10 February 1947, when the Paris Peace Treaty was signed, they demonstrated benevolence towards the Catholic hierarchy in an attempt to convince the Western Allies of the democratic development of Bulgaria. When the treaty was signed, however, the communists launched an open attack against the political opposition in the country. Repressive measures against those religious denominations that had their headquarters in the West, mostly Catholics and Protestants, still continued to be restricted until the ratification of the treaty on 25 August 1947. According to Article 2 of the Treaty, Bulgaria was obliged to guarantee the religious rights and freedoms of its citizens. In addition, Article 35 foresaw a commission of the heads of the diplomatic missions of the USSR, UK and USA in Sofia to monitor the fulfilment of the treaty until February 1949.39 Nevertheless, the first signs of future anti-Catholic repression appeared. In March 1947, Fr Petar Bakalski was arrested under the false pretext of breaking the law. In October, the People’s Militia arrested two Catholic priests upon their return in Bulgaria after their studies in Catholic universities in Rome.40 In November 1947, Dimitar Iliev, the Director of Religious Denominations, reported to the Minister of Foreign Affairs, Vassil Kolarov, that the major task of the Department for Non-Orthodox Christian Denominations was to assist the successful fight of Bulgarian public opinion against the attempts of Pope Pius XII [and] the Roman Catholic Church to increase their religious and social influence in the country and again, alongside this international religious line, to fight against the attempts to involve our [Bulgarian] people in the imperialist and anti-democratic camp led by the USA, in conformity with the agreement between Truman and Pope Pius XII. Director Iliev also declared that ‘the Papal Delegate Mgr Francesco Galloni in Sofia and the three Catholic bishops in Plovdiv, Russe and Sofia, together with the entire Catholic clergy and nuns, who are obviously connected with Vatican foreign policy … will be resolutely rebuffed’ by this department.41 It is interesting that at the same time, the topic of ‘Catholic aggression’ appeared in the correspondence of the Moscow Patriarchate with the Bulgarian Orthodox Church.42 The real deterioration of the situation of the Catholic churches of both rites began after the promulgation of the new Constitution on 4 December 1947. It laid the legal grounds for the future persecution of religion by separating the Church from the state in a Soviet manner. One of the first steps in this direction was to investigate the state of all religious minorities in the

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country, especially Catholics, Protestants and Muslims. In the spring of 1948, the government received historical overviews and statistical data about them submitted by the Directorate of Religious Denominations.43 According to the report on the Catholic Church, it had 56,566 believers, organised in two Latin rite and one Eastern rite dioceses. The Latin rite bishop for northern Bulgaria, Mgr Eugene Bossilkov, had his office in Russe, while Mgr Ivan Romanov, responsible for southern Bulgaria, was based in Plovdiv. At the same time, the Eastern rite Bishop Ivan Garufalov remained in Sofia. The entire Catholic community of both rites had 71 churches 54 parishes and 133 priests. There were also 16 orders with 381 monks and about 250 nuns. Meanwhile, the number of Eastern rite Catholics was estimated at 9,520 adherents organised into 20 parishes with 49 priests.44 The most influential orders among the Eastern Catholics were the Assumptionists and Resurrectionists, as well as the female congregations of the Assumption Oblate Sisters and the Eucharist nuns. According to Dimitar Iliev, Catholic clergy supported the fascist and reactionary opposition in Bulgaria and worked systematically against its democratic regime. The first visible attacks against the Catholic Church appeared in mid-1948. Before the adoption of the communist bill on religious denominations in February 1949, however, they combined religious with political allegations against the Catholic hierarchy. The first of these were advanced by the so-called Pan-Orthodox Conference in Moscow (8–18 July 1948), where Bulgarian Orthodox Metropolitan Kiril, who became patriarch in 1953, delivered a paper accusing the Catholic clergy in his country of supporting Italian fascism.45 The representatives of the other Orthodox churches who took part in the conference also advanced similar accusations against their local Catholic churches. On these grounds, the forum passed a special resolution against the Catholic Church that called for an abrogation of concordats with the Roman Holy See. According to the resolution, true Christianity was preserved only by the Orthodox churches that united around the Moscow Patriarchate. They were also the only ones who supported democracy in the world and opposed the Vatican’s alliance with imperialist warmongers and reactionary forces. The anti-Catholic campaign of the Moscow Pan-Orthodox conference overlapped with a series of measures undertaken by the Bulgarian communist government against the local structures of the Catholic Church. On 14 July 1948, the Politburo of the Central Committee of the Bulgarian Communist Party decided to close down all Catholic schools in Bulgaria. On 3 August, Don Francesco Galloni responded with a verbal note to the state authorities. He asked permission for those Bulgarian boys who had been studying in closed Catholic seminaries to be allowed to go to Rome to continue their theological education. Unsurprisingly, his request was declined.46 At the same time, the communists began to investigate Bulgarian relations with the Vatican in order to interrupt them. As a consequence, Don Galloni took measures to secure his position in Bulgaria. In the summer of 1948 he visited Rome, where he was granted the title of Monsignor by Pope Pius XII. This step, however, did not

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have the expected effect. When, at the end of 1948, he left Bulgaria again for his annual report to the Holy See, the government in Sofia decided to forbid his return. It found it inadmissible for a foreign state such as the Vatican ‘to exercise rights of protection over part of its citizens’.47 Nevertheless, the official announcement of this decision was postponed until 17 February 1949, when the Foreign Minister, Vassil Kolarov, informed the Vatican Secretary of State, Cardinal Montini, of it. In his letter, Minister Kolarov declared that the Apostolic Delegation to Bulgaria was unilaterally established by the Roman Holy See and had no diplomatic status because of the lack of a concordat with the Vatican. Consequently, its functioning was possible only thanks to the benevolence of previous Bulgarian governments. The 1947 Constitution, however, guaranteed the rights and freedoms of all Bulgarian citizens, and, therefore, there was no need for the return of Mgr Galloni as administrator of the Apostolic Delegation to Bulgaria. According to the government in Sofia, this ban was necessary for the defence of Bulgarian Catholics ‘from the danger of being implicated in the nets of an anti-democratic, anti-populist and anti-Soviet policy’.48 The action described, however, was not sufficient for a full interruption of relations between the Bulgarian Catholic hierarchy and the papacy. This goal was achieved by the adoption of the Law on Religious Denominations.49 Although the ultimate goal of the new bill was to annihilate religion, it formally preserved the existing religious institutions after depriving them of their administrative and economic autonomy.50 As a result, churches were no longer allowed to provide religious education to their children (Art. 20), while the secular authorities were free to exert censorship over the publishing and distribution of religious literature and encyclical letters (Art. 16). Article 21 destroyed religious charities by declaring all facilities used for such aims by the churches as state property. Finally, Article 30 obliged all religious organisations to submit their statutes for approval by the Council of Ministers. Some texts in the new bill, however, were specially designed to curtail the activities of those denominations that had relations with Western religious organisations, namely Catholics and Protestants. According to Article 9, the ministers of denominations that maintain canonical relations with foreign states cannot exercise their duties without the approval of the Director of Denominations. Moreover, the latter was legally empowered to dismiss every cleric who was considered to violate the law, public order and good morals (Art. 12). Articles 22, 23 and 24 presented a direct attack against the Catholic Church. They forbade any religious denomination in Bulgaria to maintain direct relations with official persons and bodies whose headquarters were located abroad. Such communication, if any, had to be mediated by the Directorate of Religious Denominations. In the same way, no financial and material aid from foreign agencies was allowed without an authorisation from the same Directorate. All missions, orders and charitable institutions whose central offices were situated in foreign countries had to be closed and their property transferred to the Bulgarian state. On these grounds, by the end of

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1949, all foreign Catholic priests, monks and nuns were extradited from the country.51 The Catholic hierarchy in Bulgaria received a copy of the final draft of the Law on Religious Denominations a few days before its adoption. On 20 February 1949, the three Catholic bishops sent a joint memorandum strongly critical of all the texts that contradicted Catholic canons and infringed the rights and freedoms of their believers.52 They protested against Article 9, which deprived them of their canonical right to freely administer their dioceses. Their sharpest criticism, however, was against Article 24. In this case, they declared that the Holy See would never agree to the ban on free communication with its diocesan bishops.53 Their protests remained unanswered and the bill was voted through without amendments on 24 February. On the same day, Vassil Kolarov delivered a speech in Parliament during which he stressed how dangerous foreign religious propaganda was. He made clear the aim of the new bill: ‘to preserve the Bulgarian Catholic clergy from becoming [the Vatican’s] agents, who under the cover of religion provide a foreign political centre with information that according to all national legislation is considered a state secret’. Kolarov concluded that it was impossible for a democratic state to respect any church canon that ‘obliges its citizens to become foreign spies and traitors to their motherland’.54 The first victims of the new bill, however, became the Protestant pastors whose trial started on 25 February 1949. The attack against the more influential and better organised Catholic Church needed additional time for its preparation. As regards the Catholics, the new bill motivated a breaking off of diplomatic relations between Bulgaria and the Vatican at the end of 1949, thus facilitating plans for a confiscation of Catholic charitable premises and seminaries.55 In a short time the state established full control over the income of the Catholic administrations of both rites. At the same time the Istina newspaper ceased printing, while the communist media showered abuse on Catholics as spies and traitors to their motherland. The new law also facilitated the infiltration of communist ‘moles’ into the structures of the Catholic churches of both rites. Their bishops and most active clerics were kept under surveillance.56 In addition, the new bill empowered the Directorate of Religious Denominations to force the three Catholic bishops to issue appeals and encyclicals in support of the economic and political initiatives of the people’s government.57 This collaboration was, however, in vain. After thorough preparation the communists finally delivered their most severe blow to the Catholic Church. In this case they did not force the Eastern Catholics to join the Bulgarian Orthodox Church as happened in Ukraine, Romania and Czechoslovakia, but brought them to trial, together with Latin rite Catholics. This approach was provoked by the close relations established between the clergy of the two rites. The anti-Catholic campaign began in 1950, when several Catholic priests were accused of espionage and thrown into jail. This was followed by mass arrests in the summer of 1952. The anti-Catholic trials that followed were

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conducted in accordance with the already tested scheme elaborated by the Bulgarian communist regime for the anti-Protestant trials of 1949. Its main steps included: To organise one main public trial that has to include 15 out of all accused persons: the heads of the Protestant churches and the members of the Supreme Council of the United Evangelical churches, who have committed the gravest crimes against the people’s interests and the security of the country. Some of the other [arrested] Protestants could be involved in a central trial as special witnesses without including them in it; 2. To organise four other trials against the separate Protestant sects, in which the rest of the accused persons are to be tried and unmasked as spies that committed crimes against the people’s government. It is possible for some of the trials to be carried out in the countryside without fuss.58 These instructions of 1949 reveal striking parallels with the anti-Catholic trials in 1952. As in the case of the different Protestant churches, the prosecutor did not differentiate between Catholic clerics of the Eastern and Latin rites but put them together in the same indictment. In a similar way, the list of defendants included the major Catholic personalities: bishops, seminary rectors, chief editors of the Catholic press, the most active priests and nuns. There was also one large public trial (29 September–5 October 1952) in Sofia and several smaller (some in Plovdiv) that were held in camera. Clerics who had been already sentenced in the first smaller trials were used as witnesses in the larger one. Some of the laymen and clerics arrested as the supporters of Catholic spies were not accused by the prosecutor, but were used as his witnesses.59 Many of them were sent, without sentence, to the so-called ‘labour reformatory camps’ for varying periods of time. There is, however, a significant difference between the anti-Protestant and the anti-Catholic trials. According to the author’s reckoning, 120 Catholic clerics were arrested in the period 1950–3 and half of them were sentenced. Of the four clerics prosecuted in the three small trials in the first half of 1952, Fr Josif Tonchev was sentenced to death, while the other three were imprisoned for long terms of between twelve and twenty years. No less severe were the sentences issued by the major trial in October 1952. Four of its forty defendants received capital sentences: Mgr Eugene Bossilkov and the three Assumptionist priests Kamen Vichev, Pavel Dzhidzhov and Josafat Shishkov.60 The Catholic bishop who administered the Latin rite Catholics in northern Bulgaria was beaten to death in prison and died before the execution of his death sentence, while the three others were shot on 11 November 1952. Fr Fortunat Bakalski also lost his life in the prison, although he was not sentenced to death. The other defendants were convicted for different terms ranging from eighteen months to twenty years, but only 10 per cent of them received sentences of less than

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six years. The Latin rite bishop for southern Bulgaria, Mgr Ivan Romanov, tried in another smaller trial, was sentenced to twelve years on 29 October 1952 and died two months later in prison. The only Catholic hierarch who escaped such a fate was Mgr Ivan Garufalov, who died in his bed on 7 August 1951. This severity of the anti-Catholic trials distinguishes them from those against Protestant pastors in terms of capital sentences.61 From this perspective, it is important to mention that the softer attitude of the Bulgarian communist regime in 1949 was a conscious decision that took into consideration the international situation at that particular moment. In 1952, however, Cold War confrontation reached its peak and allowed them to demonstrate their strength. According to the prosecutor at the main 1952 trial, under the influence of the Vatican, Catholic clergy all over the world had zealously supported all reactionary and oppressive regimes. In the particular case of Bulgarian Catholics, they were guilty of supporting ‘fascism, the exploiting classes, the Koburg-Gotha dynasty, the clique of King Ferdinand and King Boris’. The prosecutor claimed that the Catholic clergy in Bulgaria had taken a hostile position against the people’s government since its establishment. In his view, while the workers were doing their best to build socialism, a reactionary Catholic hierarchy worked for the imperialist intelligence services, sabotaged economic and social progress and did everything ‘to take power from the hands of the people and restore the capitalist regime in Bulgaria’.62 The 1952 trials decapitated the Catholic Church in Bulgaria. The only legitimate Catholic bishop who remained free was Mgr Kiril Kurtev. Reinstalled as the Exarch of the Bulgarian Eastern rite Catholics after the death of Mgr Garufalov in 1951, he was too old and weak to provide opposition. Nevertheless, he was the only fully canonical Bulgarian Catholic bishop in the country until his death in 1971. Under these circumstances the Eastern rite Catholic community experienced enormous difficulties. There was some relaxation during the détente in which Soviet leader Nikita Khrushchev changed his attitude to the Vatican. As a result, two Bulgarian Catholic clerics, Mgr Kiril Kurtev and Fr Simeon Kukov, were allowed to attend the Second Vatican Council,. At the same time, some of the victims of the anti-Catholic trials were released from prison. One of them was Fr Metodii Stratiev, sentenced to fourteen years in prison, but given early release in 1963. This change was provoked by his appointment by Pope John XXIII as Titular Bishop of Diocletianoplis of Thracia and Coadjutor Apostolic Exarch of the Bulgarian Eastern Catholics on 28 April 1963. Despite this status, however, his freedom of movement was limited and Bishop Metodii was not allowed to leave the city of Yambol for two years. Only after negotiations with the Vatican did the communist authorities allow him to go to Sofia, where, on 5 September 1965, he was consecrated by Mgr Kiril Kurtev.63 In 1970, he became the President of the Inter-rites Episcopal Conference in the country and the following year, after the death of Mgr Kiril Kurtev, he was appointed Apostolic Exarch of the Eastern Catholics in Bulgaria. 64

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The Eastern Catholic community after the fall of communism The fall of communism created conditions for religious revival, and stimulated a rapprochement between Bulgaria and the Vatican. On 16 May 1990, a month after the abolition of Article 1 of the 1971 Constitution that promulgated the socialist nature of the People’s Republic of Bulgaria and the leading role of the Bulgarian Communist Party, Mgr Samuel Dzhundrin, who was in charge of the Latin rite Catholics in north Bulgaria, sent an open letter to President Petar Mladenov with several requests. They included the recognition of the Catholic Church as a judicial entity, the restitution of its property and the provision of social insurance for its clergy.65 On 19 October, the Committee on the Affairs of the Bulgarian Orthodox Church and Religious Cults at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs announced that the procedure for granting the status of a judicial entity to the Catholic Church in Bulgaria had been accomplished. It also declared that this act was in accordance with the democratic transformations in Bulgarian society and the Concluding Document of the Vienna Meeting of the Conference on Security and Cooperation in Europe, adopted on 19 January 1989. According to the Committee, the Catholic Church in Bulgaria obtained ‘all legal opportunities and guarantees to fulfil its religious and patriotic mission in the spirit of the universal human values’.66 The newly recognised Church consisted of three dioceses: one Eastern rite with its Episcopal See in Sofia, and two Latin rite dioceses with their Sees in Russe and in Plovdiv. A further step was made on 6 December 1990, when Bulgaria established official diplomatic relations with the Holy See, and the latter established its Apostolic Nunciature in Sofia. This positive development was confirmed on 17 December 1992, when the Bulgarian Parliament adopted a special bill for the restitution of the properties which the former communist regime had confiscated from the Bulgarian Catholic communities of both rites.67 It seemed that the Catholic Church was about to restore its interwar resources necessary for its religious and social activities. A year later, however, the restitution process was hindered by the Parliamentary Commission on the complaints of Bulgarian citizens. In October 1993, it announced that the Catholic Church in Bulgaria had no legal right to receive back any properties. According to Ivo Zheynov, an expert hired by this Commission, the Catholic Church had no ownership rights in Bulgaria before 9 September 1944 and thus all its possessions were registered as property of various private institutions and physical persons.68 On these grounds, it was concluded that the further restitution of Catholic assets should take place only after the submission of documents that proved their ownership by the Vatican. In the case of former properties of the French Catholic orders in Bulgaria, it was noted that the state had already paid compensation for them to France in 1955.69 As a result, the process of restitution was slowed down and the Catholic Church in Bulgaria had to file lawsuits for almost every single property it had lost under communism. Meanwhile, nobody has questioned the contradiction between

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the centralised 1953 confiscation of the properties of the Catholic Church and their piece by piece restoration imposed in 1993. The difficulties faced by the Catholic Church in post-communist Bulgaria required energetic measures. The Holy See entrusted the fulfilment of this task to the post-communist generation of Catholic bishops in Bulgaria. On 18 December 1993, Pope John Paul II nominated Mgr Metodii Stratiev as Archbishop ad personam and appointed the younger Fr Hristo Proykov as bishop to assist in the administration of local Eastern Catholic affairs. On 6 January 1994, Proykov was consecrated at St Peter’s in Rome. In September next year, Mgr Metodii Stratiev was released from his duties on account of his advanced age and Bishop Hristo Proykov appointed Apostolic Exarch of Eastern Catholics in Bulgaria. At the same time, he also became the Chairman of the Inter-rites Episcopal Conference in Bulgaria. This change provoked public interest in the place of Eastern Catholicism in Bulgarian religious history. The national media published numerous articles about the former Apostolic Exarch and his successor. In an interview given by Mgr Metodii Stratiev, he was asked to comment on the popular slogan ‘There is Orthodoxy – there is Bulgaria, there is no Orthodoxy – there is no Bulgaria’, advanced by the Orthodox Metropolitan Kliment of Tarnovo in 1893, when he protested against the Russophobe foreign policy of the Bulgarian dynasty and government. In response, the elder Catholic archbishop pointed to periods in history when the Bulgarian Church was in union with Rome and Bulgaria was a strong state, e.g., under Czar Kaloyan (1204–7).70 However, his words provoked the fierce criticism of the Bulgarian Orthodox Church, while the newspaper Tsarkoven Vestnik accused him of an ‘openly setting Catholics against their Orthodox compatriots’.71 This episode revealed the hostility of the Orthodox hierarchy to the Catholic Church in post-communist Bulgaria. It also explains the difficulties faced by the Catholic Church in restoring its properties confiscated by the communist regime and the poor coverage of its social and charitable activities in the Bulgarian mass media. The most profound event in the post-communist development of the Catholic Church in Bulgaria, however, remains the visit of Pope John Paul II in May 2002. It was preceded by several unsuccessful attempts. Initiated by the local Catholic community, most invitations to the head of the Roman Catholic Church were also supported by the governments of the Union of Democratic Forces (in 1992, 1997 and 2000). All of them, however, faced the stubborn resistance of the Bulgarian Orthodox Church. Therefore, in 2000, Bulgarian Catholics issued a special memorandum to Patriarch Maxim where they declared that Pope John Paul II would not undertake any visit to Bulgaria if there was a danger of inter-religious tensions and conflict.72 In 2001, these efforts were continued by the government, headed by the former Bulgarian king, Simeon Saxe-Koburg-Gotha, who finally succeeded in arranging the Pope’s visit. Though his trip to Bulgaria in May 2002 was of great importance for the revitalisation of the local Catholic Church, it had much greater political significance for the whole of Bulgarian society. It closed the

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pages of the Cold War past connected with the 1981 assassination attempt on John Paul II and opened the way for Bulgaria’s membership of NATO (2004) and the European Union (2007). Meanwhile, some victims of the antiCatholic trials (1950–3) were not vindicated by the Bulgarian state. According to the Law on Political and Civil Rehabilitation of persons repressed under communism, only members of their families were allowed to plead for rehabilitation. However, thanks to their celibacy, some of the clerics sentenced in the anti-Catholic show trials had no living relatives to intercede on their behalf. As a result, the three Assumptionists Fathers from the Eastern rite Apostolic Exarchate, who had been killed in 1952 and were beatified by the Pope in 2002, remained without vindication until 2010, when an amendment of the afore mentioned bill corrected this injustice.73 The last noteworthy event in the life of Bulgarian Eastern Catholic community took place in November 2010 when it celebrated the 150th anniversary of the Union with Rome (1860). It inspired the 10,000 Eastern Catholics, organised into some 20 parishes with 18 priests, to reflect on the past, present and future role of their denomination in Bulgarian society.74 As a result, a series of archival and historical studies were published, with the assistance of the Apostolic Catholic Exarchate in Bulgaria. Their findings, however, did not provoke significant changes in official Bulgarian historiography, which continues to limit the religious and social significance of the Eastern Catholic Church to two major themes. The first is an appreciation of the Union of 1860 as a tool that had ‘changed the position of the Great Powers and especially of Russia’ to the nineteenth-century movement of Bulgarians for church independence from the Patriarchate of Constantinople, i.e. it assisted the establishment of the Bulgarian Orthodox Exarchate in 1870. The second, provoked by the fall of communism, values the Eastern Catholic Church as ‘an open channel for the Bulgarian people to Western civilisation’.75 Consequently, the image of Eastern rite Catholics as people with a problematic national consciousness seems to still persist in Bulgarian society.

Conclusion In comparison with the other Eastern Catholic churches the Bulgarian Church embraces a small community of believers and has a relatively short history. Its particular development, however, gives important insights into the phenomenon of Eastern Catholicism. Established as a means to emancipate Orthodox Bulgarians from the Patriarchate of Constantinople and their recognition as a single nation by the Sublime Porte, the Bulgarian Eastern Catholic Church survived the migration of its adherents from Edirne Thrace and Macedonia to free Bulgaria in the course of the Balkan and the European wars (1912–18). In the late 1920s it became a truly Catholic community by adopting a vision of the religion as a universal God-given totality of dogmatic and moral truths. Though Bulgarian Eastern Catholics continued to value the Eastern rite as a historically constructed feature of their community, uniting

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them with the Orthodox majority of their nation, they realised that it was not essential for their faith. As a result, they established closer contacts with Latin rite Catholics not only in Bulgaria but also globally. Another important specific feature of the Bulgarian Eastern Catholic Church concerns its Cold War experience. It did not share the destiny of the Eastern Catholic churches in Soviet Ukraine, Czechoslovakia and Romania whose adherents were forced by the local communist regimes to ‘unite’ with the corresponding Orthodox churches in the period 1946–8. Instead the Bulgarian Eastern Catholic Church, together with that of the Latin rite, was treated relatively well by the Fatherland Front in the first years of its government, largely between 9 September 1944 and 24 February 1949. This deviation was caused by the wartime alliance of Bulgaria with Nazi Germany, which complicated the international status of Bulgaria. As a result, the Bulgarian Communist Party had to postpone its total monopolisation of power in the country and to use different tactics towards the local Catholic communities. In its attempts to secure the international status of Bulgaria, communist leaders took into account the influence of the Vatican and made some concessions to the Catholic churches of both rites. However, after the Paris Peace Treaty (1947) and the liquidation of political opposition in the country, they had a free hand to launch open attacks against Catholics in Bulgaria. They enforced a special religious bill that allowed them to organise show trials against the Catholic episcopate and clergy and to disrupt the religious life of their communities. Only the end of the Cold War allowed a true revival of Eastern Catholicism in Bulgaria and a return to its interwar collaboration with the local Latin rite community. This development has preserved Bulgarian Eastern rite Catholics from some nineteenth-century national sentiments, particularly the overemphasis on rite as an identity marker of their religious community. Instead they have embraced a broader vision for the future that respects theology and ecclesiastical jurisdiction. Such an approach allows the Bulgarian Eastern Catholic community to serve as an envoy for its country in its communication with Catholic countries in Europe and throughout the world.

Appendix 1

Religious leaders

• •

Archbishop Metodii Stratiev (1916–2006), in office 1971–95, as Exarch of the Bulgarian Catholics of Eastern rite Archbishop Hristo Proykov (1946–), in office 1995–.

2

Biography

Title: Apostolic Exarch of Sofia and Titular Bishop of Briula. Hristo Nikolov Proykov was born in Sofia on 11 March 1946. In 1971, he was ordained priest after receiving general theological training within the Eastern

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Catholic Church in Bulgaria. From 1980 to 1982 Fr Hristo Proykov studied canon law at the Pontifical Gregorian University in Rome. Upon his return he continued to serve until 1993, when he was appointed Titular Bishop of Bruila and Coadjutor in the Apostolic Exarchate of Sofia. In 1994, he was consecrated bishop by Pope John Paul II. On 5 September 1995, Mgr Proykov was appointed Apostolic Exarch of Eastern Catholics in Bulgaria and became Chairman of the Inter-rites Catholic Episcopal Conference in Bulgaria. In 2009 Pope Benedict XVI appointed him Consulter to the Congregation for the Oriental Churches of the Roman Curia. 3

Theological publications

•

Istina –Veritas [Truth – Veritas] (newspaper of the Bulgarian Exarchate of Eastern Rite Catholics).

4

Congregations

Structure of the Church:76 1 bishopric-exarchate; 13 parishes, 7 monastic communities, 1 lay movement. The Eastern rite Catholic communities are affiliated with the Resurrectionist and Assumptionist orders, the Salesian Brothers, the Carmel Brothers and Sisters, the Holy Eucharist Sisters, the Oblate Sisters and the lay Focolare movement. Number of clergy and church buildings: 13 priests,77 13 parishes,78 19 monks, about 20 nuns.79

Notes 1 Mihail Aksunov, Istoria na Katolicheskata tsarkva ot iztochen obred v Balgaria [History of the Catholic Church of Eastern Rite in Bulgaria], Sofia: Katolicheska apostolicheska ekzarhia, 2008, p. 221; Ivan Elenkov, Katolicheskata tsarkva ot iztochen obryad v Balgaria: Ot vremeto na neynoto uchredyavane s prisaedinenieto na chast ot balgarskia narod kam Rim prez 1860 g. do sredata na XX vek [The Catholic Church of Eastern Rite in Bulgaria: From the Times of its Establishment with the Union of Part of the Bulgarian People with Rome in 1860 to the Mid-twentieth Century], Sofia: Katolicheska apostolicheska ekzarhia, 2000, p. 213. 2 The present image of Bulgarian Eastern Catholic Church is still influenced by the anti-Catholic perspectives in the works of Todor Burmov, Balgaro-gratskata tsarkovna razsprya [The Bulgarian-Greek Church Conflict], Sofia: Sredets, 1885; Mihail Arnaudov, Ilarion Makariopolski, Sofia: Hudozhnik, 1925; Petar Nikov, Vazrazhdane na balgarskia narod: Tsarkovno-natsionalni borbi i postizhenia [The Revival of the Bulgarian People: National Church Struggles and Achievements], Sofia: Prosveshtenie, 1929; Kiril, Patriarch of Bulgaria, Katolicheskata propaganda sred balgarite prez vtorata polovina na XIX vek [The Catholic Propaganda among Bulgarians in the Second Half of the Nineteenth Century], vol. 1, 1859– 1865, Sofia: Sinodalno izdatelstvo, 1962; Kiril, Patriarch of Bulgaria, Prinos kam uniatstvoto v Makedonia sled Osvoboditelnata voyna (1879–1895) [Contribution to Uniatism in Macedonia after the Liberation War (1879–1895)], Sofia: Sinodalno izdatelstvo, 1968.

The Bulgarian Eastern Catholic Church

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3 Patriarch Kiril, Katolicheskata propaganda, pp. 169–70. 4 Ivan Sofranov, Istoria na balgarskoto dvizhenie za saedinenie s Katolicheskata tsarkva prez XIX vek [History of the Bulgarian Movement for Union with the Catholic Church in the 19th Century], translated by Maria Uzunova, Sofia: Katolicheska apostolicheska ekzarhia, 2009, p. 59. This book was Sofranov’s dissertation, Histoire du mouvement Bulgare vers l’église catholique au XIXe siècle, which was first published in French in Rome in 1960. 5 Ibid., p. 81. According to Ivan Sofranov, already in April 1861, Pope Pius IX had to change the title of the first Archbishop of Bulgarian Eastern Catholics, Josif Sokolski, from Exarch of the Bulgarian Catholics to that of the ‘united Bulgarians’. 6 Sofranov, Istoria na balgarskoto dvizhenie, p. 137. 7 Patriarch Kiril, Katolicheskata propaganda, vol. 1, 1859–1865, pp. 177–81. 8 Ibid., p. 308. 9 Patriarch Kiril, Prinos kam uniatstvoto v Makedonia, pp. 353–72. 10 Elenkov, Katolicheskata tsarkva ot iztochen obryad v Balgaria, p. 205. 11 Ibid., p. 209. In fact, there are no exact statistics about the number of the Bulgarian Eastern Catholics on the eve of the Balkan wars. More detailed information about this issue is presented ibid., pp. 199–210, and Svetlozar Eldarov, Katolistite v Balgaria, 1878–1989 [The Catholics in Bulgaria], Sofia: IMIR, 2002, pp. 193–201. 12 Eldarov, Katolistite v Balgaria, pp. 448–9. 13 Ibid., pp. 435–6. 14 Elenkov, Katolicheskata tsarkva ot iztochen obryad v Balgaria, pp. 226–7. 15 Ibid., p. 232. 16 Ibid., p. 439. 17 Ibid., pp. 441–2. 18 Fr Kupen Mihaylov, Kiril Kurtev – Apostolicheski ekzarh: Zapiski varhu nay-novata istoria na Apostolicheskata ekzarhia v Balgaria [Kiril Kurtev – Apostolic Exarch: Notes on the Contemporary History of the Apostolic Exarchate in Bulgaria], Sofia: Katolicheska apostolicheska ekzarhia, 2010, pp. 99–105. 19 Eldarov, Katolistite v Balgaria, p. 444. 20 First encyclical letter of Mgr Kiril Kurtev (17 April 1927), published in Mihaylov, Kiril Kurtev, pp. 113–27. 21 Ibid., pp. 119–21. 22 Ibid., p. 122. 23 Eldarov, Katolistite v Balgaria, p. 469. 24 Elenkov, Katolicheskata tsarkva ot iztochen obryad v Balgaria, pp. 298–301. 25 Eldarov, Katolistite v Balgaria, p. 450. 26 Ibid., pp. 463–77; Mihaylov, Kiril Kurtev, p. 161. 27 The activities of the Orthodox metropolitans are described in detail by Eldarov, Katolistite v Balgaria, pp. 459–68. 28 Ibid., p. 443. 29 Ibid., pp. 493–4. 30 Elenkov, Katolicheskata tsarkva ot iztochen obryad v Balgaria, p. 107. 31 Daniela Kalkandjieva, Balgarskata pravoslavna tsarkva i darzhavata [The Bulgarian Orthodox Church and the State], Sofia: Albatros, 1997, p. 276. 32 Eldarov, Katolistite v Balgaria, p. 552. 33 Daniela Kalkandjieva, ‘Politikata na Balgarskata komunisticheska partia kam nepravoslavnite religiozni obshtnosti (1944–1953 g.)’ [The Bulgarian Communist Party’s Policy towards the Non-Orthodox Religious Denominations], in Trudove na katedrite po istoria i bogoslovie, Shumen University ‘Episkop Konstantin Preslavski’ [Annual of the Departments of History and Theology at Shumen University ‘Bishop Konstantin Preslavski’], 2005, vol. 8, p. 253.

702 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42

43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57

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Eldarov, Katolistite v Balgaria, pp. 553–8. Ibid., pp. 565–70. Ibid., p. 575. Ibid., pp. 572–3. Ibid., pp. 581–2. Darzhaven vestnik [State Herald], 30 August 1947, no. 201, p. 1. Eldarov, Katolistite v Balgaria, pp. 584–5. TsDA [Central State Archives], f. [fond] f. 165, op. [inventory list] 3, a.e. [archival unit] 128, p. [page] 10–12. Daniela Kalkandjieva, ‘Otnoshenieto na darzhavata kam Katolicheskata tsarkva v Balgaria (1944–1952)’ [The Attitude of the State to the Catholic Church in Bulgaria (1944–1952)], in Katolicheskata duhovna kultura i neynoto prisastvie i vlianie v Balgaria [Catholic Spiritual Culture and Its Presence and Influence in Bulgaria], Sofia: Geya-Libris, 1992, p. 146; Kalkandjieva, Balgarskata pravoslavna tsarkva i darzhavata, pp. 242–3. Kalkandjieva, ‘Politikata na Balgarskata komunisticheska partia’, pp. 252–64. TsDA, f. 165, op. 5, a.e. 609, pp. 1–20. Kalkandjieva, ‘Otnoshenieto na darzhavata’, pp. 146–7. Eldarov, Katolistite v Balgaria, pp. 595–6. TsDA, f. 147б (‘б’ signifies the Communist Party’s archival fonds), op. 2, a.e., 1022, pp. 8–14. Rabotnichesko delo [Worker’s Affairs], no. 44, 24 February 1949, p. 1. There was no such law under the previous Tarnovo Constitution (1879–1947). A detailed analysis of the Law on Religious Denominations is presented in Kalkandjieva, Balgarskata pravoslavna tsarkva i darzhavata, pp. 241–75. The author was not able to find statistical data in the archives and published studies on the number of foreign Catholic clerics and nuns who had left or had been extradited from Bulgaria in the period 1944–9. Kalkandjieva, Balgarskata pravoslavna tsarkva i darzhavata, pp. 258–60. TsDA, f. 146б, op. 4, a.e. 826, p. 2. Rabotnichesko delo, no. 44, 24 February 1949, p. 1. This issue is described in detail by Eldarov, Katolistite v Balgaria, pp. 605–8. Ibid., pp. 627–36. Archimandrite Gavril Belovezhdov published some of them in his book Stradanieto ne e etiket – to e dostoynstvo …!: Dokumenti ot katolicheskite protsesi v Balgaria prez petdesette godini [Suffering Is Not a Label, but Dignity …!: Documents from the Anti-Catholic Trials in the 1950s], Sofia: Ivray, 2001, pp. 12–23. TsDA, f. 146б, op. 5, a.e. 611, p. 1. A detailed account of the anti-Catholic trails is published by Gavril Belovezhdov. This issue is also analysed by Daniela Kalkandjieva, ‘Otnoshenieto na darzhavata kam Katolicheskata tsarkva v Balgaria (1944–1952)’ [The Attitude of the State to the Catholic Church in Bulgaria (1944–1952)], in Katolicheskata duhovna kultura i neynoto prisastvie i vlianie v Balgariya [Catholic Spiritual Culture and Its Presence and Influence in Bulgaria], Sofia, 1992, pp. 144–11; Daniela Kalkandjieva, ‘The Catholic Church in Bulgaria and the Cold War’, in L’Europe et la Méditerranée: Stratégies politiques et culturelles (XIXe et XXe siècles), Actes du colloque de Nancy-Malzéville (4, 5, 6 septembre 1997), G. Meynier and M. Russo (eds), Nancy: Presses universitaires de Nancy and L’Hartmattan, 1999, pp. 229–41; Zhoro Tsvetkov, Razpyatieto: Sadebnata razprava s deytsi na Katolicheskata tsarkva v Balgaria sled 1952 g. [The Crucifix: The Show-Trials against the Catholic Church in Bulgaria in 1952], Sofia: Izdatelstvo na Balgarska akademia na naukite, 1994; Eldarov, Katolistite v Balgaria, pp. 666–72.

The Bulgarian Eastern Catholic Church

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60 The beatification of Mgr Eugene Bossilkov and the three Assumptionists in 1998 became an important step in the overcoming of the Cold War legacy in Bulgarian relations with the Vatican. 61 Although Fr Fortunat Bakalski did not receive a capital sentence he was killed in prison. 62 TsDA, f. 146б, op. 5, a.e. 611, p. 1. 63 ‘Spritual Revival Will Take Us on the Road of Salvation’, Demokratsia [newspaper], no. 212, 11 November 1995. 64 The career development of Mgr Metodii Stratiev is presented in detail at http:// www.gcatholic.com/hierarchy/data/archbishops-17.htm (accessed 6 June 2013). 65 ‘Open Letter of Bishop Samuel of Nikopol to the President’, Kurier [Secret Bulletin of the Bulgarian Telegraph Agency], no. 96, 16 May 1990. 66 Vatreshna Informatsiya [Domestic Information Bulletin of the Bulgarian Telegraph Agency], no. 292, 19 October 1990. 67 ‘Law for the restitution of the unmovable and movable properties of the Catholic Church within the territory of the Republic of Bulgaria, confiscated by Decree No. 88 of the Presidium of the People’s Assembly (unpublished)’, Darzhaven Vestnik, no. 104, 24 December 1992. 68 Miroslava Belcheva, ‘The Catholic Church has had no ownership rights in Bulgaria’, Kontinentn [newspaper], no. 251, 27 October 1993. 69 Nikolay Krastev, ‘University of Plovdiv Will Bring the Catholics to Trial’, 168 chasa [newspaper], no. 50, 13 December 1993. 70 ‘Spiritual Revival Will Bring Us to the Road to Salvation’. 71 ‘Effrontery’, Tsarkoven Vestnik [Church Newspaper], no. 38, 18 September 1995. 72 Part of the Memorandum is quoted in the article ‘Catholics ask [Patriarch] Maxim about the Pope’, 24 chasa [newspaper], no. 325, 29 November 2000. 73 ‘Report of the Committee for Human Rights, Religious Freedoms, Requests and Petitions of the Citizens concerning the draft-law about the amendment of the Law on the Political and Civil Rehabilitation of Repressed Persons, no. 054-01-25, submitted by Lachezar Toshev –Parliamentary member’, published in Shorthand Record of the Proceedings from the 125th session of the Forty First Bulgarian Parliament, held on 7 July 2010, available at http://www.parliament.bg/bg/plenaryst/ID/738. See also Amendment and Supplement Draft Law on the Political and Civil Rehabilitation of Repressed Persons (054-01-25/25.03.2010), available at http://pastir.org/wp-content/uploads/2010/09/project_ZIiDZPRRL_Toshev.pdf (accessed 6 June 2013). 74 ‘Short History of the Bulgarian Eastern Catholic Church’, available at http://www. kae-bg.org/index.php?act=content&rec=169 (accessed 6 June 2013). 75 The words quoted are from the speech of the Bulgarian historian Bozhidar Dimitrov, who, as a representative of the Bulgarian government, attended the symposium of the Eastern Catholic Diocese of the Catholic Church in Bulgaria on the occasion of the 150th anniversary of the 1860 Union with Rome. ‘The Catholic Church Eastern Rite today celebrates its 150-year jubilee by a symposium’, Domestic Information Bulletin of the Bulgarian Telegraph Agency, 4 November 2010. 76 Data from the website of the Apostolic Exarch of the Eastern Catholics in Bulgaria, http://www.kae-bg.org/?act=content&rec=29 (accessed 6 June 2013). 77 Ibid. 78 Ibid. 79 Estimated numbers. Data from the website of the Apostolic Exarch of the Eastern Catholics in Bulgaria, http://www.kae-bg.org/?act=content&rec=29 (accessed 6 June 2013).

34 The Hungarian Greek Catholic Church Stéphanie Mahieu

Eastern Christianity is a rather marginal phenomenon in Hungary, where Roman Catholicism and, to a lesser degree, Calvinism prevail. There are 179,176 Greek Catholic believers in Hungary,1 representing about 2 per cent of the total population.2 In addition, there are approximately 15,000 Orthodox believers.3 The Hungarian Greek Catholic Church (HGCC) (a Magyar Görög Katolikus Egyház) occupies a very peculiar place within East European Greek Catholicism. Because it was the only Church to escape systematic repression during socialism, it has recently become one of the most dynamic churches in the region, a status rather surprising if one considers its history. Before the Second World War, the HGCC has historically been a rather peripheral church within Hungary. Most of its believers, of Rusyn and Romanian origin, were living in northeast Hungary (the region of Nyíregyháza), which had long been the poorest and least developed in the country. Unlike in Romania and Ukraine, it never had a real leading cultural elite playing a role in the Hungarian political sphere. It is one of the most recent institutionally created Greek Catholic churches: even though its existence is the result of the Union of Uzhhorod (1646), it had to wait until 1912 and the creation of the eparchy of Hajdúdorog to have institutional autonomy. Its number of believers was small,4 compared to the then very large Ukrainian and Romanian Churches.5 It was also probably the most Latinised Greek Catholic Church in the region. But its fate during the socialist era radically changed the picture: Hungary is the only country where the Greek Catholic Church was not subjected to specific and systematic political repression. Even though the socialist state never encouraged religion, the Greek Catholic Church could maintain its activities, limited of course in such a context, but in a much better situation than all the Greek Catholic churches in the area which became ‘catacomb’ churches. In Hungary, by contrast, priests continued to be ordained and believers could freely attend the liturgies. Unlike in neighbouring countries, there has therefore been continuity in the religious transmission of Hungarian Greek Catholicism during socialism. After the fall of the Berlin Wall, there has been no need to re-establish an entire hierarchy and to regain believers, no fight for property restitution,

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no nationalist attacks. The shrine of Máriapócs,6 with its miraculous weeping icon, has cemented its position as the main pilgrimage centre for hundreds of thousands of Greek Catholics of the entire Carpathian region. The level of church attendance is rather high for a largely secularised country like Hungary. There are many vocations, with novices coming both from Hungary and neighbouring countries. Even within the contemporary Hungarian religious landscape, characterised by a spectacular drop in church affiliation during the last decade, as shown in the result of the last census published in early 2013, it is a dynamic church in terms of attendance, creation of parishes, ordinations and social work. This favourable situation has had social, liturgical and institutional consequences, which will be studied here both from a historical and a socio-anthropological perspective. The search for a ‘rediscovery’ of the Church’s Eastern roots, strongly encouraged by the Vatican since the Second Vatican Council and the 1964 decree Orientalium Ecclesiarum, and more strongly since 1990 and the publication of the Code of Canons of the Eastern Churches, is important for Hungarian Greek Catholics. The HGCC is peculiar from that point of view too, in the absence of a strong Byzantine tradition in Hungary.7 However, the history of the question of the degree of Latinisation acceptable for Greek Catholics and the need to restore Eastern traditions is almost as long as Greek Catholicism itself. Since the first unions with Rome and throughout the centuries, there has been a pendulum movement between ‘Latinisation’ and ‘Byzantinisation’ within all Greek Catholic churches.8 On the one hand, the argument given in favour of Latinisation was that it was a way to gain social rights and to escape the social backwardness of many Greek Catholics. On the other hand, the ‘Byzantine’ trend stressed the need to keep the specificity of Eastern Christianity and restore the ‘purity’ of the Byzantine rite when it had been lost. This dilemma has occurred within all Greek Catholic churches, but the tension between ‘Easternisers’ and ‘Westernisers’ is peculiar in Hungary, for three sets of reasons. First, its fate before the Second World War: it was one of the most Latinised Greek Catholic Church, in religious life, and most of all in church architecture and interior layout. Second, under socialism, it was the only Greek Catholic Church in the region allowed freedom to operate openly, and therefore to start applying the appeal already made in the 1960s by the Vatican to ‘rediscover’ Eastern roots. Third, after the fall of the Berlin Wall, there have been no crucial worries such as property restitution or the search for believers, which left more space for the implementation of the Vatican’s instructions. However, there has been an animated debate about how quick and how deep such a ‘return to the East’ should be. The priority has long been given by the Church’s authorities to a strengthening at its basic level (education, organisation, church building); the recent appointment of two new bishops has given a boost towards a more intense rediscovery of Eastern roots.

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Long-term history: a situation at the margins Hungary entered the sphere of Western Christianity in 1001, when King Stephen (István) was crowned the first king of Hungary. However, a significant Byzantine influence remained in the Carpathian basin until at least the twelfth century. The existence of a Greek Catholic Church in Hungary results from the gradual Hungarianisation of Rusyn and Romanian populations living in the area.9 The Rusyn Greek Catholic Church was established at the Union of Uzhhorod (1646) in Subcarpathia, while the Romanian Greek Catholic Church was established at the Union of Alba Iulia (1700), in Transylvania.10 At the local level, even though the kingdom of Hungary remained largely Roman Catholic, in the course of the Reformation many people converted to Lutheranism and, above all, to Calvinism:11 Debrecen is often called ‘the Calvinist Rome’. In the course of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, together with a gradual Hungarianisation of the population, there was a long process of Latinisation,12 both in the liturgy with the spreading of the cult of the Sacred Heart of Jesus,13 and in the internal arrangement and architecture of churches: the Baroque style has had a great influence in the Carpathian basin.14 In addition, at the turn of the twentieth century, Latinisation was considered a way to escape the backwardness connected with rural life and the distance from Budapest: this is the period when many iconostases were taken down in Greek Catholic churches. The turn of the twentieth century was a decisive moment, because it was both the time when the process of Latinisation proved to be strongest, but also when the first claims for the creation of a separate eparchy and for the use of Hungarian as a liturgical language, instead of Church Slavonic and Romanian, were made. Many arguments were presented in favour of the creation of a separate eparchy, the most important one being the number of Hungarian Greek Catholics, 239,353 in 1900.15 The claim for using Hungarian as a liturgical language became the cornerstone of general demands. There had been a first translation into Hungarian of the Divine Liturgy of John Chrysostom in 1795,16 and the first Liturgy in Hungarian was held in Budapest in 1896. In 1898, the National Committee of Byzantine Rite Catholic Hungarians (Görög Szertartású Katolikus Magyarok Országos Bizottsága) was created, followed by the Society of Hungarian Greek Catholics (Magyar Görögkatolikusok Egyesülete) in 1902.17 A Memorial Album was published in 1901 and presented in the Vatican to Pope Leo XIII, recounting the pilgrimage to Rome of Hungarian Greek Catholics in 1900.18 In addition to the linguistic claim, another claim was the use of the Gregorian calendar instead of the Julian one, with the objective of celebrating major religious events together with Roman Catholics. All these claims represented a search to unite Hungarian Greek Catholics and to demonstrate loyalty towards the Hungarian kingdom.19 Eventually, on 8 June 1912, with the bull Christifideles Graeci, Pope Pius X created the eparchy of Hajdúdorog for 162 Hungarian-speaking Greek

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Catholic parishes.20 Like other Greek Catholic churches, the HGCC was (and remains) a sui iuris (self-governing) Church. However, unlike its sister churches in Romania, Ukraine, Slovakia and Poland, it never achieved the status of a metropolitan Church and lacks a body of canon law. In consequence, the HGCC was (and remains) officially under the authority of the Roman Catholic Archbishop of Esztergom-Budapest. Even though it was eventually recognised institutionally by the Vatican, the question of the use of Hungarian in the liturgy remained unresolved at the time of the creation of the eparchy, since it was limited to non-liturgical functions. According to a papal decree, the liturgy was to be celebrated in Greek and the clergy were given three years to learn it. The requirement to use Greek, a language alien to most of the priests, was never actually enforced. In practice Hungarian was already used for hymns, readings and even the liturgy, except the priest’s quiet prayers and the consecration.21 Nevertheless, it would take another seventy years (1965) for Hungarian to be tolerated as a liturgical language, and almost a century (1991) to be officially accepted. István Miklósy became the first bishop of the new eparchy. He settled in Debrecen, but in 1913 a bomb exploded and killed the vicar, the secretary and the eparchy’s lawyer. The reasons for the bombing remain unclear, but it seems that it arose from anti-Hungarian motives,22 as a reaction of the creation of the eparchy. Bishop Miklósy then decided to move to Nyíregyháza, which has remained until now the centre of the eparchy of Hajdúdorog. As a side-effect of the Treaty of Trianon in 1920, which left millions of Hungarian-speaking people outside the borders of the new state, the territory of the eparchy of Hajdúdorog was reduced from the 168 parishes to which it had grown to only 90, the others being henceforth situated in Romania, the Slovak part of Czechoslovakia and Ukrainian Subcarpathia.23 This is why, in addition to the believers located in the territory of modern Hungary, there still are some Hungarian-speaking Greek Catholic communities and parishes in Subcarpathian Ukraine, Eastern Slovakia and Romania.24 In 1924, an Apostolic Exarchate was established at Miskolc for twenty-one Rusyn parishes, previously part of the eparchy of Prešov/Eperjes and one parish previously part of the eparchy of Mukachevo/Munkács. These parishes gradually started using Hungarian, and the Exarchate was administered by the Bishop of Hajdúdorog, after the death of the first exarch in 1945.

The socialist period: a unique situation After the end of the Second World War, the Marxist-Leninist ideology put forward by the socialist regimes considered religion as ‘the opiate of the people’ and churches therefore suffered more or less active repression. All Greek Catholic churches were confronted with even more radical measures, being effectively eliminated.25 However, in Hungary the situation was quite different. The various Hungarian churches were not all affected uniformly.26 The Roman Catholic Church, the largest and most powerful church in

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Hungary, was the main target of repression.27 Cardinal József Mindszenty, Archbishop of Esztergom, prince-primate of Hungary, was arrested and sentenced to life imprisonment in 1949.28 Mindszenty symbolised national resistance to Sovietisation and Russification, not only for Roman Catholics but for all Christian churches.29 By contrast, Protestant churches, the small Greek Orthodox Church and the surviving Jewish community30 all reached accommodations with the government in the late 1940s and were even allocated financial support. Except during the 1956 uprising, the Protestant churches were not sources of organised dissent. The Greek Catholic Church escaped systematic repression. The Szent Atanáz Greek Catholic Theological Institute was even founded in 1950 in Nyíregyháza by Greek Catholic Bishop Miklós Dudás (1939–72), at exactly the same time that the Roman Catholic Church was experiencing harsh repression. It seems that this took place as the result of a local initiative and was not actively supported by the state.31 Nevertheless, one might wonder why the HGCC enjoyed substantially more freedom than other religious affiliations during the 1950s, and why, unlike in neighbouring countries, it was not faced with forced union with Orthodox churches. The most likely explanation lies in the Church’s small size and relative poverty, as well as the insignificance of Orthodoxy in Hungary.32 Northeastern Hungary, where most Greek Catholics have historically lived, has long been the country’s poorest area. This does not mean of course that Greek Catholicism was encouraged, and the situation was probably easier in villages than in the cities; but this relative leniency of the state is striking, when one considers the fate of the Greek Catholic churches in the neighbouring countries, notably in Romania and Ukraine. The Second Vatican Council represents an important moment in the life of the Greek Catholic Church of this period. Bishop Miklós Dudás participated in it; he celebrated the first liturgy to be held in Hungarian at St Peter’s Basilica in the Vatican in November 1965.33 Even though it had a limited impact, and despite the Hungarian authorities’ official atheism, the Second Vatican Council’s appeal for religious change reached the Catholic faithful in Hungary.34 It particularly affected Greek Catholics through the 1964 decree Orientalium Ecclesiarum, explicitly encouraging the Eastern Catholic churches to preserve and/or rediscover their traditions. The decree argued that the Eastern spirit had been lost and that the Greek Catholic churches had borrowed too many Latin elements which should be eliminated from the liturgy. Greek Catholic Bishop Imre Timkó (1975–88) tried to implement the appeal made in Orientalium Ecclesiarum. His actions in favour of a return to Eastern traditions and of a Byzantine liturgical renewal were numerous. On several occasion, and in particular in a book published in 1987 on the occasion of the seventy-fifth anniversary of the creation of the eparchy of Hajdúdorog, he stressed the Byzantine roots of his church.35 The domain in which the ‘return’ to the East has been the most visible is church architecture. Several new churches have indeed been built in Hungary since the 1970s,36 and new parishes have been created in the area of Budapest37

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and in Pécs. Bishop Imre Timkó gradually encouraged the emergence of a neo-Byzantine style in this domain. Not all new churches have followed this style, which more notably appeared in the 1980s, with the Greek Catholic church built in Edelény 1983, designed by architect Ferenc Török; others churches later followed this style, in particular after the end of socialism. In 1980, Pope John Paul II extended the authority of the Bishop of Hajdúdorog to the entire territory of Hungary, with the exception of the Exarchate. Bishop Timkó died in 1988. His successor, Szilárd Keresztes (1988–2007), was appointed on the eve of the political changes that would affect all Eastern Europe.

The post-socialist period: dynamism, expansion and debate By the turn of the 1990s, the Hungarian Greek Catholic Church found itself in a much more favourable situation than the other Greek Catholic churches in the region: it had neither to fight over the restitution of property, nor to regain believers who had turned to Orthodoxy or Roman Catholicism, nor to re-establish an entire hierarchy.38 In August 1991, Pope John Paul II made a pastoral visit in Hungary. He went to the shrine of Máriapócs, where he celebrated the Divine Liturgy of St John Chrysostom in Hungarian for about 100,000 faithful coming from Hungary, Ukraine, Slovakia and Romania. This was considered as a very important event, since it was the first Greek Catholic Church visited by John Paul II, and also because for the first time it gave a real recognition of the use of Hungarian in the liturgy, more than a century after it was first requested. The papal visit gave a significant boost to Hungarian Greek Catholics. These years were characterised by an important development in their activities in all directions:39 building of new churches, many of them in a neoByzantine style40 and the renovation of old ones (neo-Byzantine-style fresco paintings, installing new iconostases), creation of Greek Catholic schools,41 re-establishment of modest monastic activity through the order of St Basil the Great,42 building of a brand-new edifice for the seminary43 in Nyíregyháza in 2003, which also hosts a college of theology, with the status of a university faculty,44 and a library specialising in Greek Catholicism.45 The Eparchy has relaunched publication of its monthly magazine, Görögkatolikus Szemle [Greek Catholic Review].46 The HGCC is also present on the internet, with many sites47 and a forum.48 Research is being conducted on the Hungarian Greek Catholic Church. Among historians, István Pirigyi has written an extensive history of the Greek Catholics in Hungary49 in two volumes, and many other contributions. Tamás Véghseő, Szilveszter Terdik and Fülöp Kocsis published in 2012 a historical retrospective in English, Our Paths – Byzantine Rite Catholics in Hungary.50 István Baán has mostly focused on the history of Greek Catholicism in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries.51 István Ivancsó has written numerous contributions on the history of Greek Catholic liturgy, and on the history

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of Máriapócs. Other contributors to the history of the HGCC are István Gábor Cselényi, György Janka, István Udvari and Tamás Véghseő (Rector of the Seminary in Nyíregyháza), and American historian James Niessen.52 Ethnologists and social anthropologists have also contributed to the knowledge of Hungarian Greek Catholics, both in Hungary and in neighbouring countries: Elek Bartha has been working on Greek Catholic popular religion for more than thirty years, Márta Magyari has studied Greek Catholic Easter traditions, Erzbébet Pilipkó has been conducting research among Greek Catholic communities in Subcarpathia, together with Bertalan Pusztai, who has in addition been studying Greek Catholic identity and the cult of the Sacred Heart. Irén Szabó has focused on liturgical gestures, and I have examined Greek Catholic charities and the debate between ‘Latinisers’ and ‘Easternisers’.53 Among art historians, Géza Nagymihályi has paid specific attention to icons, in particular the Pantocrator in Hungary, László Puskás on Church art in Greek Catholic churches and Bernadett Puskás have studied Hungarian Greek Catholic art history from a historical perspective.54 Conferences are organised on a regular basis, the first meeting of European Eastern Catholic bishops was held in Nyíregyháza in 1997, and there are several conferences every year on church history, patristics, moral theology, canon law and other topics.55 A research group, the Görög Katolikus Örökség (Greek Catholic Heritage) has recently been created; an exhaustive bibliography on the HGCC is available on its website, in Hungarian, English, French, Italian and German.56 The institute also has a publishing house, and several reviews are published: among them Athanasiana (in Hungarian),57 Folia Athanasiana (in foreign languages, i.e. English, Italian, French, German),58 Folia Canonica59 and Studia Biblica Athanasiana,60 as well as Posztbizánci Közlemények.61 Another notable new activity has been the development of Greek Catholic charities and other social activities. Often based on individual initiatives, quite a significant amount of social work has been developed by Greek Catholic priests and faithful: detoxification centres and psycho-social help for addicts, clubs for the elderly and retirement homes, home nursing, food distribution, visits to the sick in hospital, support for unemployed people.62 The HGCC has developed these charitable activities in close cooperation with local and national government agencies. Besides the social support it provides, this is also a way to give further visibility to Greek Catholicism in areas of the country where it had not actually been present and where it has followed internal migrations. In the course of the last decades there has been a large east–west migration within Hungary, especially in the area of Budapest,63 but also in other parts of the country. Greek Catholics are now present in parts of the country where new parishes have been created.64 The number of parishes in Hungary has also increased, from 126 in 1945 to 175 today, with 265 priests. During the last decade alone, twenty-five Greek Catholic churches have been erected. Under the episcopacy of Szilárd Keresztes, the question of a return to Eastern traditions seems to have been somehow lower down the official agenda than it was for Bishop Timkó. This may seem paradoxical, since

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Greek Catholicism was from then on totally free to operate and to apply the Vatican’s instructions in this respect. And indeed, many people were keen to intensify such a return to the East as a matter of urgency. The rapidity and the form of this process have been subjected to a lively debate within the HGCC. But Bishop Keresztes wanted to act so as not to upset anyone, both within the eparchy and in the relation to other Greek Catholic churches. He endeavoured to balance the two positions, between the many people who wanted to get rid of Latinisms, and those who were in favour of a more flexible position. For instance, elderly people were very attached to devotions such as the rosary. The most visible Latin elements of Greek Catholic religious life were not part of the Divine Liturgy itself, but devotions such as the rosary or the cult of the Sacred Heart. The Acathist hymn, an Eastern prayer, was gradually proposed, instead of the rosary: still, the accent was placed on a gradual evolution, rather than on a too rapid change. Another external argument for a ‘concession’ towards the Latins was that not to upset the emerging neighbouring Greek Catholic churches, which had been subjected to forced Orthodox assimilation and were therefore less keen to give up the Latin elements of the liturgy that helped them distinguish them from the Orthodox Church. It seems that the bishop wanted to strengthen the bases of the Church, to develop its activities and ensure a gradual transition for elderly believers, before implementing the Vatican’s instructions in too strict a fashion. His goals have been largely achieved: when he resigned in 2007, he left a Church in a stable but dynamic situation, with twenty-eight new parishes created. The appointment in 2008 of a new bishop marked a new era for Greek Catholicism in Hungary, one where the ‘rediscovery’ of Eastern roots is high on the agenda.

Recent developments and perspectives: a stable but evolving situation A new bishop, Péter Fülöp Kocsis, was appointed to the eparchy of Hajdúdorog in 2008. A new bishop-exarch, Atanáz Orosz, was appointed in the exarchate of Miskolc in 2011. Both were previously monks of the monastery of Dámóc, which they had founded in 1999. They have also stayed in the Belgian monastery of Chevetogne, a place well known for its activity in support of church ecumenism, in particular in the dialogue between Western and Eastern Christianity;65 they have a profound knowledge of the Eastern liturgy. Their appointment probably announces a step towards a re-orientalisation of the HGCC, as requested by the Code of Canons of the Eastern Churches. In a country where there is no national Orthodox Church to provide a comparison, Greek Orthodoxy, with its highly mystical tradition, is their reference point when trying to define the tradition to which they should return. Today, going ‘East’ no longer equates with backwardness, as was considered the case until the early twentieth century, but with the depth and the mysticism of the Eastern religious experience. From this perspective, the re-orientalisation of the Greek Catholic Church appears to offer an interesting direction. Intense

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religious experience is perhaps the best way to stem the continuing secularisation of young Greek Catholics, which appears clearly after the results of the 2011 census, with a significant drop in church attendance, observed within the Greek Catholic Church as well as within other ‘traditional’ churches (Roman Catholic, Calvinist, Lutheran). The advocates of a return to Eastern roots have integrated the new religious characteristics of contemporary Europe, especially for the younger generation, with an emphasis on occasional meetings characterised by their emotional intensity rather than weekly church attendance.66 Keeping young people in the church is probably the biggest challenge faced by the HGCC. This has been taken into consideration, and many events are offered to young Greek Catholics throughout the year: the KÖZ (Keresztény Összejövetel Zemplénben, a retreat/summer camp), the annual youth pilgrimage on foot to Máriapócs (the ifjúsági gyalogos zarándoklat), the KEFIT (Kerestény Fiatalok Találkozója), the Christian youth meeting, as well as participation in international Catholic events such as the World Youth Days (the last one being held in Rio de Janeiro in 2013). All these gatherings are a way to create a sense of belonging among young Greek Catholics, both fervent faithful and occasional churchgoers, and also to spread the Eastern-like style of religious practice, such as the Acathist hymn, and references to the Byzantine monastic tradition, characterised by its high degree of mysticism. The stress put by new church authorities on a deeper application of the Vatican’s instructions about Eastern roots corresponds to a generational change within the HGCC, both within the hierarchy and among the flock. The youngest among Hungarian Greek Catholics tend to be more sensitive to the intensity of the religious experience, to the mysticism of the Eastern liturgy and Eastern icons, but also to the social dimension of religious life. Nevertheless, with the urban way of life and the effects of migration, the accent is put more on occasional gatherings than on regular, day-to-day interactions. Even though it is faced, like many other denominations, with the challenge of keeping young people within the church, the HGCC presents the promise of a dynamic religious life in the future.67

Conclusion Greek Catholicism in Hungary is the result of the turbulent history of the Carpathian basin, and of the gradual Hungarianisation of Rusyn and Romanian populations. The Hungarian Greek Catholic Church was recognised in 1912 and for a lengthy period was a small, regional church, presenting a high degree of Latinisation, in a relatively poor area. Its fate during socialism would change this situation. It was the only Greek Catholic Church in the region to escape systematic repression by the socialist state, perhaps precisely thanks to its relative insignificance. There was continuity in the transmission of Greek Catholicism in Hungary during this period. After the fall of the Berlin Wall, it found itself in a relatively favourable position,

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and has begun to establish numerous activities (education, social work, creation of new parishes, etc). In Hungary, there has been a lively debate on the application of the Vatican’s instructions about the ‘rediscovery’ of Eastern roots, through the elimination of Latin elements. If this process started earlier in Hungary than in other countries, in the 1990s there was an attempt by church authorities to temper the haste of those who wanted to remove all Latin interpolations. A balanced approach towards the issue was favoured during the process of stabilisation within the HGCC that followed the end of socialism, but an intensification of the process of ‘rediscovery’ of Eastern roots has recently been given a boost. More than twenty years after the end of socialism, the HGCC presents a remarkable vigour, especially when compared with the Greek Catholic churches in the neighbouring countries, whose process of revitalisation has been long, often painful and not always as successful as expected. Nevertheless, it faces new challenges. The urban lifestyle of many of the faithful and the generational change in believers may have an impact on its future; it follows the general evolution of religious practice in Hungary, as suggested by the data shown in the last census (2011) and, more generally, in Europe. This new trend is characterised by a significant drop in weekly church attendance and by new forms of interaction between the Church and its faithful, based less on routine daily church life than on intense religious moments. The recent emphasis on the rediscovery of Eastern roots is probably, besides its intrinsic value, an attempt at responding to these developments.

Appendix 1

Religious leaders

•

Bishop Szilárd Keresztes (1932–), Bishop of Hajdúdorog and Apostolic Exarch of Miskolc, in office 1988–2007 Bishop Péter Fülöp Kocsis (1963–), Bishop of Hajdúdorog, in office 2008– Bishop László Atanáz Orosz (1960–), Apostolic Exarch of Miskolc, in office 2011–.

• •

2

Biography

Bishop Péter Fülöp Kocsis was born on 13 November 1963 in Szeged. He studied at the Szent Atanáz Greek Catholic Theological Academy in Nyíregyháza and at the Pontifical Salesian University in Rome. In 1989 he was ordained priest. In 1998 he took monastic vows under the monastic name Fülöp. On 30 June 2008 he was consecrated Bishop of Hajdúdorog by Bishop Szilárd Keresztes, the Greek Catholic Archbishop of Eperjes, Ján Babják, and the Greek Catholic Bishop of Munkács, Milán Śaśik.

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Bishop-Exarch László Atanáz Orosz was born on 11 May 1960 in Nyíregyháza. He studied at the Pázmány Péter Catholic University in Budapest, and at the Alphonsian Academy and the Patristic Institute ‘Augustinianum’ in Rome. In 1985 he was ordained priest. In 1996 he took monastic vows under the monastic name Atanáz. In March 2011, Pope Benedict XVI appointed him Bishop-Exarch of the Miskolc Apostolic Exarchate, with the title of Bishop of Panium. His consecration took place at Miskolc on 21 May 2011 and was performed by Archbishop Vasiľ Cyril, the secretary of the Eastern Congregation, the Archbishop-Metropolitan of Eperjes, Ján Babják, and the Bishop of Hajdúdorog, Fülöp Kocsis. 3

Theological publications

• • • • •

Posztbizánci közlemények [Post-Byzantine Notices], 1994–200368 Athanasiana (in Hungarian)69 Folia Athanasiana (in foreign languages, i.e. English, Italian, French, German)70 Folia Canonica71 Studia Biblica Athanasiana72

4

Congregations

Structure of the Church: 1 bishopric (of Hajdúdorog, established in 1912), 1 Exarchate (of Miskolc, established in 1924), 1 Archdeanery (Zemplén), 178 parishes. Number of clergy and church buildings: 265 priests,73 202 churches of which 2 are cathedrals (Cathedral of the Presentation of the Blessed Virgin Mary in the Temple in Hajdúdorog, and the Cathedral of Our Lady in Miskolc),74 1 shrine (in Máriapócs), 9 monks, 6 nuns.75 5

Population76

The religious landscape in Hungary presents a very significant change between 2001 and 2011. This concerns all churches: the number of people declaring a religion had dropped from 9,093,982 in 2001 (89.2 per cent of the total population) to 7,238,603 in 2011 (72.8 per cent of the total population). The number of ‘non-answering people’ has boomed: from 1,104,333 in 2001 to 2,699,025 in 2011), while the number of non-denominational believers (Egyházhoz, felekezethez nem tartozik) has increased from 14.5 per cent to 16.7 per cent of the total population. In 2011, Hungary numbered 179,176 Greek Catholic believers (89,759 less than in 2001, where there number was 268,935) out of 9, 937,628 total population (10,198,315 in 2001), this is 1.8 per cent of the total population (2.6 per cent in 2001). The Orthodox believers were 13,710, this is 0.1 per cent of the total population (14,520 in

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2001). The 2011 census states that 37.1 per cent of the population belongs to the Roman Catholic Church (51.9 per cent in 2001), 11.6 per cent to the Reformed (Calvinist) Church (15.9 per cent in 2001), 2.2 per cent to the Evangelical (Lutheran) Church (3 per cent in 2001), and 0.1 per cent declared themselves as Jews. The ethnic composition of the country was the following in 2011: 8,314,029 Hungarians (93.2 per cent of the total population), 308,957 Roma (3.5 per cent), 131,951 Germans (1.5 per cent) and a lower number (less than 20,000 people) of Slovaks, Romanians, Serbians, Croats and Slovenes.

Notes 1 Located mostly in northeast Hungary. The last census was held in October 2011, the previous one in 2001. Final results were published in March 2013. See www. nepszamlalas.hu (accessed 10 June 2013). The religious landscape presents very significant changes between 2001 and 2011. This concerns all churches: the number of people declaring a religion had dropped from 9,093,982 in 2001 (89.2 per cent of the total population) to 7,238,603 in 2011 (72.8 per cent of the total population). The number of those reporting ‘no answer/don’t know’ (nem válaszolt, ismeretlen) has boomed: from 1,104,333 in 2001 to 2,699,025 in 2001 (10.8 per cent to 27.2 per cent), while the number of non-denominational believers (Egyházhoz, felekezethez nem tartozik) has increased from 14.5 per cent to 16.7 per cent of the total population. In 2011, Hungary numbered 179,176 Greek Catholic believers (89,759 less than in 2001, where their number was 268,935) out of 9,937,628 total population (10,198,315 in 2001), this is 1.8 per cent of the total population (2.6 per cent in 2001). The Orthodox believers were 13,710, this is 0.1 per cent of the total population (14,520 in 2001). The 2011 census states that 37.1 per cent of the population belongs to the Roman Catholic Church (51.9 per cent in 2001), 11.6 per cent to the Reformed (Calvinist) Church (15.9 per cent in 2001), 2.2 per cent to the Evangelical (Lutheran) Church (3 per cent in 2001), and 0.1 per cent declared themselves as Jews. 2 In some areas, they represent up to a fifth of the population, for instance in the county of Szabolcs-Szatmár-Bereg, where Greek Catholics represent 102,484 out of 582,256 inhabitants. There are some municipalities of this county where Greek Catholics represent more than a third of the population, such as Újfehértó (5,061 out of 13,526 inhabitants). Other counties with significant Greek Catholic population are those of Borsod-Abaúj-Zemplén (54,699 out of 744,404 inhabitants) and Hajdú-Bihar with 47,259 out of 552,998 inhabitants. See www.nepszamlalas.hu and www.vallás,felekezet (accessed 10 June 2013). 3 Divided between Romanian Orthodox, Russian Orthodox, Greek Orthodox, Serbian Orthodox and Bulgarian Orthodox. 4 With 239,353 believers in the 1900 census (quoted in James Niessen, ‘Hungarians and Romanians in Habsburg and Vatican Diplomacy: The Creation of the Diocese of Hajdúdorog in 1912’, Catholic Historical Review, 1994, 80 (2), 238–57). 5 With respectively almost 4 million and almost 2 million believers before the Second World War (for Ukraine, see Vlad Naumescu, Modes of Religiosity in Eastern Christianity: Religious Processes and Social Change in Ukraine, Halle Studies in the Anthropology of Eurasia, Berlin: LIT, 2007, and for Romania, Lucian Turcescu and Lavinia Stan, ‘Developments since 1989: The Romanian Greek Catholic Church’, in Stéphanie Mahieu and Vlad Naumescu (eds), Churches In-between: Greek Catholic Churches in Postsocialist Europe, Halle Studies in the Anthropology of Eurasia, Berlin: LIT, 2008, pp. 99–109).

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6 The weeping icon of Máriapócs’ was painted in 1675 in a popular Carpathian Baroque style (see Bernadett Puskás, ‘L’influence du Baroque sur la peinture d’icônes dans la région des Carpathes’, in Le baroque de l’Europe occidentale et le monde Byzantin, Académie serbe des sciences et des arts, Classe des sciences historiques18, Beograd: SANU, 1991, pp. 29–36). It is said to have first wept in 1696. It was then transferred by the Emperor’s troops to Vienna, where it never wept again. A second icon was painted in Máriapócs and shed tears twice, in 1715 and 1905. What remains of the second icon has been put into a golden frame, inside the Basilica of Máriapócs, which hosts a luxuriant Baroque iconostasis. 7 Even though there was a significant Byzantine influence in Hungary in the Middle Ages; see István Cselényi, ‘Bizánci nyomok a magyarországi görög katolikus rítusban’ [Byzantine Signs in the Hungarian Greek Catholic Rites], Postbizánci Közlemények, 1994, 1, 103–10. 8 On the topic of Latinisation versus Byzantinisation, see Juraj Buzalka, ‘Syncretism among the Greek Catholic Ukrainians in Southeast Poland’, in Mahieu and Naumescu (eds), Churches In-between, pp.183–205; Chris Hann ‘The Limits of Galician Syncretism, Pluralism, Multiculturalism and the Two Catholicisms’, in Chris Hann and Paul Robert Magocsi (eds), Galicia: A Multicultured Land, Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2005, pp. 210–39; Stéphanie Mahieu, ‘Reformism, Conservatism and Modernity within the Hungarian Greek Catholic Church’, in Mahieu and Naumescu (eds), Churches In-between, pp. 207–30; Vlad Naumescu, ‘Continuities and Ruptures of a Religious Tradition: Making “Orthodoxy” in the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church’, in Mahieu and Naumescu (eds), Churches In-between, pp. 157–82; Victor J. Poshpishil, ‘Sheptys’kyi and Liturgical Reform’, in Paul Robert Magocsi (ed.), Morality and Reality. The Life and Times of Andrei Sheptyts’kyi, Edmonton: Canadian Institute of Ukrainian Studies, 1989, pp. 201–27. 9 See Maria Mayer, Rusyns of Hungary. Political and Social Developments 1860–1910, Eastern European Monographs, New York: Columbia University Press, 1997, and István Molnár, ‘Mióta magyarok a magyarországi görög katolikusok?’ [Since When Have Hungarian Greek Catholics Been Living in Hungary?], Posztbizánci Közlemények, 1997, 3, 46–52. 10 On the Union in Romania, see Keith Hitchins, A Nation Discovered. Romanian Intellectuals in Transylvania and the Idea of Nation, 1700–1848, Bucharest: Encyclopaedia Publishing House/Romanian Cultural Foundation Publishing House, 1999. For a global picture of church unions, see Paul Robert Magocsi, ‘Greek Catholics: Historical Background’, in Mahieu and Naumescu (eds), Churches In-between, pp. 35–64. 11 And, to a lesser degree, to Unitarianism. 12 On the topic of Latinisation in the MGKH, see Elek Bartha, ‘A bizánci liturgia nyomai a néphagyományban’ [Traces of the Byzantine Liturgy in the Folk Tradition], in Gábor Tüskés (ed.), Mert ezt Isten hagyta, Budapest: Magvető, 1984, pp. 322–5; Stéphanie Mahieu ‘Statues and/or Icons? The Greek Catholic Divine Liturgy in Hungary and Romania, between Renewal and Purification’, in Chris Hann and Hermann Goltz (eds), Eastern Christians in Anthropological Perspective, Berkeley: University of California Press, 2010, pp. 79–100; and Bertalan Pusztai, ‘Discursive Tactics and Political Identity: Shaping Hungarian Greek Catholic Identity at the Turn of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries’, National Identities, 2005, 7 (2), 117–31. 13 Bertalan Pusztai, ‘Egy 19–20 századi vallásos tömegmozgalom, a Jézus Szíve kultusz’ [A Religious Mass Movement in the 19th–20th Centuries: The Cult of the Sacred Heart of Jesus], Néprajz és Nyelvtudomány, 1998, 39, 57–71. 14 Bernadett Puskás, A görög katolikus egyház művészete a történelmi Magyarországon. Hagyomány és megújulás [The Art of the Greek Catholic Church in Historical Hungary. Tradition and Renewal], Budapest: Magyar Képek, 2008.

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15 Niessen, ‘Hungarians and Romanians’, p. 241. 16 István Ivancsó, ‘Harminc eves bizánci liturgia’ [A Thirty-Year-Old Liturgy], Postbizánci Közlemények, 1995, 2, 89–100. 17 István Cselényi, ‘Hodinka Antal és a Magyar Görög Katolikus Egyház’ [Antal Hodinka and the Greek Catholic Church], Postbizánci Közlemények, 2002, 5, 103–10. 18 Emlékkönyv a görög szertartású katholikus magyarok római zarándoklatáról [Memorandum on the Pilgrimage to Rome by Greek Rite Hungarian Catholics]. See Pusztai, ‘Discursive Tactics’, p. 120, and Bertalan Pusztai, ‘Hungary: Developments since 1989’, in Mahieu and Naumescu (eds), Churches In-between, pp. 67–84. 19 Niessen, ‘Hungarians and Romanians’, p. 254. 20 Grand celebrations were held in 2012 for the 100th anniversary of the creation of the Eparchy of Hajdúdorog. 21 Niessen, ‘Hungarians and Romanians’, p. 251. 22 Ibid., p. 256. 23 There are two names for this region: from a Hungarian perspective the region is described as Subcarpathia (i.e. below the Carpathian mountains, in Hungarian Kárpátalja) while from a Ukrainian perspective it is referred to as Transcarpathia (on the other side of the Carpathian mountains). I am using the first since I am considering the Hungarian perspective. 24 István Pirigyi, Görög katolikusok Erdélyben és Kárpátalján [Greek Catholics in Transylvania and Subcarpathia], Debrecen: Debreceni Görög Katolikus Egyházközség, 2001; and Erzsébet Pilipkó and Bertalan Pusztai, ‘“Religion in Motion”: Routes of Identification among Hungarian Greek Catholics in Subcarpathia’, in Mahieu and Naumescu (eds), Churches In-between, pp. 273–96. 25 In Poland, even though the Greek Catholic Church was not officially delegalised, it nevertheless ceased to exist during the socialist period. In Czechoslovakia, it was prohibited until 1968, when it gained semi-legality. See Stanisław Stępień, ‘Developments since 1989: Poland’, in Mahieu and Naumescu (eds), Churches In-between, pp. 85–97. 26 See http://www.katolikus.hu/hist_ang.html (accessed 6 December 2011). 27 Its lay organisations were disbanded in 1946, religious schools were abolished in 1948, including 134 Greek Catholic churches, and in 1950, religious orders and congregations were suppressed and 10,000 monks and nuns were interned. 28 During the uprising of 1956 he took up residence at the US embassy in Budapest, staying there until September 1971. He died in Vienna in 1975. 29 Leslie László, ‘Religion and Nationality in Hungary’, in Pedro Ramet (ed.), Religion and Nationalism in Soviet and East European Politics, Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 1989, p. 290. 30 There were about 500,000 Jews living in Hungarian territory before the Second World War, representing 5 per cent of the country’s population (23 per cent in Budapest). If one considers the territories occupied by Hungary during the Second World War, there were 861,000 Jews. They were deported in great numbers to Auschwitz in 1944 (437,402 people) and murdered. About 119,000 survived in Budapest, 20,000 in the countryside and 116,000 came back from Auschwitz: a total of 255,000 people survived the Holocaust (see Raoul Hilberg, The Destruction of the European Jews, New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1961). Many fled the country in 1956, and even more left after the fall of socialism. Today, the Hungarian Jewish community numbers 12,800 persons. 31 István Pregun, ‘The Fiftieth Anniversary of the Szent Atanáz Greek Catholic Theological Institute’, Folia Athanasiana, 2000, 2, p. 9. 32 Niessen, ‘Hungarians and Romanians’, p. 257. There are several Orthodox churches in Hungary with an ethnic dimension (Russian, Greek, Romanian, Bulgarian,

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Serb). These are relatively small, with some thousands of faithful in each. As of 2011, they represented a total of 13,710 believers. Yet there would be no explicit Vatican approval until 1991. Ivancsó, ‘Harminc éves bizánci liturgia’, p. 90. Julius Morel and Emmerich Andras, ‘L’opinion des catholiques hongrois sur les réformes de l’Église’, Social Compass, 1968, 15, 383–401. Imre Timkó, Keleti kereszténység, keleti egyházak [Eastern Christianity, Eastern Churches], Budapest: Szent István Tásulat, 1971. Imre Timkó, ‘A bizánci liturgiát körülvevő kultikus egyházművészet’, in Jubileum Emlékkönyve 1912– 1987, Nyíregyháza: A Hajdúdorogi Bizánci Katolikus Egyházmegye, 1987, pp. 65–75. In Nyírlövő, Petneháza, Erdőhorváti, Balkány and elsewhere. Csepel, Rákoskeresztúr and Újpest. Pusztai, ‘Hungary: Developments since 1989’, p. 69; Mahieu, ‘Statues and/or Icons?’, p. 84. János Soltész, ‘A Görögkatolikus egyház élete az elmúlt 10 évben’ [The Greek Catholic Church’s life during the last ten years’, Athanasiana, 2002, 15, 95–103. Such as in Hajdúszoboszló, Kazincbarcika, Ózd, Szolnok. In Hajdúdorog, Miskolc, Rakacaszend, Szolnok They remain in small number, compared with the eighty-one Greek Catholic schools existing before 1946; see Soltész, ‘A Görögkatolikus egyház’, p. 103. The order is active in Máriapócs, Kispest and in the non-Basilian monastery of Dámóc: http://uj.katolikus.hu/rendek.php?h=87 (accessed 10 June 2013). See: http://www.gorogkatolikus.hu/szeminarium (accessed 10 June 2013). The Szent Atanáz Görög Katolikus Hittudományi Főiskola. See: http://www.atanaz.hu/?q=content/k%C3%B6nyvt%C3%A1r (accessed 6 December 2011). It was launched in 1929, but did not appear during the socialist period. It restarted in 1990. http://www.gorogkatolikus.hu/?muv=kiadvany&muv2=ujsag (accessed 10 June 2013). See: http://www.gorogkatolikus.hu, http://www.atanaz.hu, http://www.mariapocskegyhely.hu, http://gorogkatolikus.lap.hu (accessed 10 June 2013). See: http://www.gorogkatolikus.hu/forum/index.php (accessed 10 June 2013). István Pirigyi, A magyarországi görög katolikusok története I–II [History of the Greek Catholics in Hungary, I–II], Nyíregyháza: Görög Katolikus Hittudományi Főiskola, 1990. Strasburg, Éditions du Signe, also available at http://byzantinohungarica.hu/ node/606 (accessed 5 June 2013). István Baán, ‘La pénétration de l’uniatisme en Ukraine subcarpatique au XVIIe siècle’, Dix-Septième Siècle, 2003, 220 (3), 515–26; István Baán, ‘Appointments to the Episcopal See in Munkács, 1650−1690’, in Tamás Véghseő (ed.), Symbolae. Ways of Greek Catholic Heritage Research. Papers of the Conference Held on the 100th Anniversary of the Death of Nikolaus Nilles, Collectanea Athanasiana 1 (3), Nyíregyháza, 2010, pp. 155–60. For full references see Pusztai, ‘Hungary: Developments since 1989’ and http:// byzantinohungarica.hu/node/133 (accessed 6 December 2011). For full references see Pusztai, ‘Hungary: Developments since 1989’ and http:// byzantinohungarica.hu/node/139 (accessed 24 November 2011). For full references see http://byzantinohungarica.hu/node/138 (accessed 24 November 2011). See: http://www.atanaz.hu/?q=content/konferenci%C3%A1k (accessed 24 November 2011). See: http://byzantinohungarica.hu/ (accessed 10 June 2013). See: http://www.atanaz.hu/?q=content/athanasiana (accessed 10 June 2013).

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58 See: http://www.atanaz.hu/?q=content/folia-athanasiana (accessed 10 June 2013). 59 See: http://szit.katolikus.hu/?m=folia-canonica (accessed 10 June 2013). 60 See: http://www.4enoch.org/wiki2/index.php?title=Studia_Biblica_Athanasiana_ (1998-),_journal (accessed 10 June 2013). 61 See: http://w3.oszk.hu/repscr/wwwi32.exe/[in=rpsr2.in]/?SFI=POSZTBIZANCI_ KOZLEMENYEK (accessed 10 June 2013). 62 Stéphanie Mahieu, ‘Civil Religion and Religious Charity in Hungary. The Greek Catholic Church: An Alternative Model of Civility?’, in Chris Hann and the ‘Civil Religion’ Group(eds), The Postsocialist Religious Question: Faith and Power in Central Asia and East-Central Europe, Berlin: LIT, 2006, pp. 315–32. 63 The two main parishes are located in Főutca and Rózsák tere. There are 42,133 Greek Catholics living in Budapest and its surroundings. 64 Notably in Győr, Veszprém, Esztergom, Dunaújvaros, Vác, Gödöllő, Pesterzsébet. For the complete list of Hungarian Greek Catholic parishes: see www.parohia.hu (accessed 10 June 2013), and then Egyházközségek and További egyházközségek. 65 Notably through its review, Irenikon, published since 1926. 66 See Grace Davie, Religion in Modern Europe. A Memory Mutates, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000, and Danièle Hervieu-Léger, Religion as a Chain of Memory, Cambridge: Polity Press, 2000. 67 For future perspective, also see Tamás Véghseő at http://byzantinohungarica.hu/ node/622 (accessed 10 June 2013). 68 See: http://w3.oszk.hu/repscr/wwwi32.exe/[in=rpsr2.in]/?SFI=POSZTBIZANCI_ KOZLEMENYEK (accessed 10 June 2013). 69 See: http://www.atanaz.hu/?q=content/athanasiana (accessed 10 June 2013). 70 See: http://www.atanaz.hu/?q=content/folia-athanasiana (accessed 10 June 2013). 71 See: http://szit.katolikus.hu/?m=folia-canonica (accessed 10 June 2013). 72 See: http://www.4enoch.org/wiki2/index.php?title=Studia_Biblica_Athanasiana_ (1998-),_journal (accessed 10 June 2013). 73 This number is from http://www.cnewa.us/default.aspx?ID=76&pagetypeID=9&s itecode=US&pageno=2 (accessed 10 June 2013). 74 See: http://www.gcatholic.org/churches/europe/5209.htm (accessed 10 June 2013). 75 See: http://www.cnewa.org/source-images/Roberson-eastcath-statistics/eastcatholic-stat10. (accessed 10 June 2013). 76 Data from the 2011 census. For more information see http://www.ksh.hu/nepszamlalas/ (accessed 10 June 2013).

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Part V

Challenges in the twenty-first century

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35 Orthodox churches and migration Kristina Stoeckl

International migration is an important challenge for the Orthodox churches in the twenty-first century, especially when one thinks of the significant dimension of work-related migration from Eastern and Southeastern Europe to Western Europe after 1991: according to statistics compiled by the Italian Institute Caritas-Migrantes, in 2011, 1.5 million Orthodox Christians were living in Italy alone (841,000 from Romania, 168,000 from Ukraine, 122,000 from Moldova, 49,000 from Macedonia and 42,000 from Albania).1 However, reliable numbers for the international migration of Orthodox Christians are difficult to obtain. It seems problematic to infer the religious background of a person simply from his or her country of origin, as the Caritas-Migrantes report does. After all, not all immigrants from traditionally Orthodox countries are automatically Orthodox believers; they could as well not be religious or have a different confession. Also, one-time census data about religious diversity in immigration countries are problematic, because they do not show whether those who confess to a particular minority religion are indeed immigrants (for example 2.2 per cent Orthodox in Austria, 1.7 per cent Orthodox in France or 1.6 per cent Orthodox in Canada cited by Koenig).2 The declarations of the Orthodox churches themselves are equally difficult to verify: Patriarch Kirill speaks about 3.5 to 5 million German residents who have come from countries under the spiritual jurisdiction of the Russian Church, including Russia, Ukraine, Belarus and Moldova,3 but German statistical data suggest much lower numbers.4 Because it is difficult to provide reliable data on the actual numbers of the international migration flows of Orthodox believers, this chapter takes a different, more conceptual approach. The aim of this chapter is to offer an overview of the challenges that Orthodox churches are facing in the light of emigration of Orthodox believers to other countries and of immigration of non-Orthodox migrants to traditionally Orthodox countries. From the perspective of the Orthodox churches, international migration poses four sets of challenges, which I will analyse one by one below: (1) Orthodox churches have traditionally kept contact with their believers through the establishment of parishes abroad, but today this diaspora model of religious communities is being challenged by a new model of transnational Orthodoxy; (2) Orthodox

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communities in emigration are asked to fulfil roles and functions that go beyond pastoral services and include support for immigrants to settle in host societies; (3) Orthodox churches in immigration countries find themselves in the position of minority religions and have to compete with other minority religions for status and representation; (4) Orthodox churches are confronted with the fact that many Orthodox countries which have traditionally been emigration countries now turn into immigration countries; this leads to greater religious pluralism in Orthodox majority countries and challenges established models of church–state relations. The chapter draws on political science literature on religious governance, on studies on migration and immigrant integration and on theoretical literature on public religions. It makes use of the few available sociological studies on Orthodox migration and looks into empirical sources such as statements of religious leaders. The latter are taken chiefly from the field of Russian Orthodoxy. The chapter also draws on insights and material from previous work on the situation of Orthodox Christianity as a minority religion in Austria.5

Orthodox Christian communities in emigration: national diasporas or an emerging transnational Orthodoxy? One set of challenges which Orthodox churches face with regard to international migration concerns the nature of the Orthodox communities abroad. Are these communities simply an extension of the mother churches, located at the periphery but with a strong link to the centre, or are they developing a new form of transnational Orthodoxy, independent from national ties? Since the nineteenth century, a large part of the Orthodox world has been organised along national and ethnic lines.6 Unlike the Catholic Church, which is organised in a transnational way with the Vatican at its centre, and unlike Islam, for which all Muslim believers are potentially part of a transnational ummah, the Orthodox community of believers is split along the lines of nationality, ethnicity, language and ecclesiastical jurisdictions. Each Orthodox Church relates to its émigré believers through the establishment of dedicated parishes abroad. These parishes keep canonical ties with the mother churches and function as linguistically and culturally homogeneous outposts, where Orthodox believers from one and the same country or from one and the same patriarchal jurisdiction gather. This is the model of the diaspora, of which the Russian, Greek and Serbian diasporas in Western Europe and in the United States are primary examples. The diaspora model of religious communities means that mother churches continue to exercise control over their parishes abroad and that there remain numerous connections and concrete links between the home country and country of emigration. A diaspora may also imply that its Orthodox believers retain a perspective of future return to their home country, albeit hypothetical.

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This diaspora model is opposed by a transnational model of religious community, according to which national and linguistic divisions are less important than shared faith. In contemporary Orthodoxy, we find that the two models are in competition, and this poses some major challenges to the traditional ways Orthodox churches have thought about their believers abroad. The model of an Orthodox Christian diaspora separated along national and linguistic lines has been challenged by members of the diaspora itself. In his book The Orthodox Church. Its Past and its Role in the World today, first published in 1981, the Russian-American Orthodox theologian John Meyendorff (1926–91) discussed the overcoming of national divisions among Orthodox emigrants: ‘All national groups in the United States, with the exception of the Greeks, are gradually adopting English more and more as the liturgical language, a factor which will help the process toward unification.’7 Orthodox communities, he writes, should rise above their ethnic and nationalist limitations. Sergei Hackel (1931–2005), a priest of the Russian Orthodox Church in Great Britain, wrote: ‘The diaspora takes on a new identity and ceases to be a mere extension of its parent body.’8 Both statements express the desire for a new form of Orthodox community, independent of national and linguistic separations and open to newcomers. Meyendorff even speaks about the emergence of a ‘Western Orthodoxy’, made up of converts and of the second- and third-generation ‘Orthodox youth who had adopted the language, culture and customs of the countries where they were born, and are to all intents and purposes as Western as their Latin brothers’.9 The emergence of a Western or cosmopolitan Orthodoxy is perceived as a threat by some Orthodox mother churches, because it may result in a relative ‘loss’ of believers. The Russian Orthodox Church is the primary example of an Orthodox Church that seems to avoid this risk and therefore tries to intensify its links with the diaspora. In a speech to Russian emigrants, Patriarch Kirill expressed his concern about the weakening of faith, patriotism and language competence in the Russian diaspora, blaming in particular the post-1991 generation of emigrants for losing their roots.10 The Russian Orthodox Church is actively seeking to regain control over those Russian Orthodox communities abroad which developed a largely independent and Western character during the seventy years of Soviet rule. In 2006, a controversy between the Moscow Patriarchate and the local diaspora community caused a split in the Russian Orthodox Diocese of Great Britain and Ireland Sourozh. The incident made clear that the Russian Orthodox Church is seeking to increase its control over Russian Orthodox communities in the West and that it meets with suspicion English-speaking Orthodoxy that has developed in the West during the Cold War.11 One explanation for the reluctance of the Russian Orthodox Church vis-àvis the emergence of a transnational Orthodox community abroad could be its desire to maintain a high level of political influence. A severance of the ties between the Church and its émigré believers could eventually lead to the decline of political influence of the Russian Orthodox Church both in the

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home country and in its external relations. Patriarch Kirill, who frequently meets heads of states of Western countries, regularly presents his church as a representative institution for Russians living abroad.12 The Russian Orthodox Church has recently adopted recommendations to the Russian Ministry of Foreign Affairs, proposing to build a systematic cooperation between the ministry, the Department of External Relations of the Russian Orthodox Church, the Federal Agency for Compatriots and Russian Orthodox dioceses and parishes abroad in order to protect the rights of Russians living abroad regarding their religious, linguistic and cultural identity and to create a ‘united information space of the Russian World’.13 The strong position of the Russian Orthodox Church as interlocutor in Russian external relations would be relatively weakened if Orthodoxy in the West became transnational. The other critical aspect of transnational Orthodoxy regards questions of jurisdiction. If Orthodox believers abroad no longer organise themselves in neatly separated diasporas, but in the form of a transnational faith community, ecclesiastical jurisdictions and loyalties are no longer automatic.14 Historical precedence, such as the Archdiocese of Great Britain (founded in 1922) or the Metropolis of France (founded in 1963), suggest that the Ecumenical Patriarchate of Constantinople is the most likely ‘home’ for such a transnational Orthodoxy. Further explanation for the reservations about transnational Orthodoxy may be found in doctrinal issues. In her study on the reception of an icon of the Tsar-Martyr Nicholas, which entered Russia in the 1990s from the Russian Orthodox Church outside Russia, Nina Schmit shows how religious practices that have matured abroad may return to the home country and challenge the Church’s teaching there. The case of the icon demonstrated that doctrinal developments in the diaspora (the canonisation of Tsar Nicholas) can create an unwelcome precedence for the Church in the home country. The Russian Orthodox Church only canonised Tsar Nicholas in 2000, after the practice of venerating him had already become established thanks to influence from abroad.15 Another example is given by a recent study of the ‘globalisation’ of the Orthodox prayer practice of hesychasm, which shows how new forms of communication (online discussion forums, blogs) create multiple interpretations of the traditional practice of incessant prayer, which may even disregard established theological teaching.16 These examples demonstrate that Orthodoxy today is as much a global religious movement from below as it is in the hands of its representative institutions. The challenge for Orthodox churches in the twenty-first century will lie in finding a balance between the traditional model of national religious diasporas and new claims for a transnational community of Orthodox believers.

The role and functions of Orthodox communities in emigration The second challenge for the Orthodox churches concerns their concrete role and functions in the countries of immigration. In meeting the concrete

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needs of immigrant Orthodox believers, Orthodox parishes have to reinvent themselves in a new cultural and political setting, fulfilling functions that go far beyond liturgical services. Not only does the role of the priest change with the new demands, but the contributions of lay believers to the functioning of the parish are likely to become more important. Orthodox churches are challenged by these developments because they are asked to creatively meet the expectations and needs of their believers abroad. Sociologists of religion have long agreed that for immigrants, religious communities tend to become much more than places of worship. Churches and other religious organisations play an important role in the creation of a sense of community and belonging and they function as a source of social and economic assistance. As Charles Hirschmann argues: [C]hurches and other religious institutions are one of the most important sources of support for the practical problems faced by immigrants. Helping others in need, including new immigrants and the poor, is considered as one of the missions of many churches and temples, and many of these charitable works are directed to fellow congregants.17 The Orthodox churches are no exception to this trend. According to Patriarch Kirill of the Russian Orthodox Church, the Russian Orthodox parishes abroad do not limit themselves to liturgical functions: ‘At parishes, people can pray together, meet, talk at tea parties, discuss their real problems and initiate contacts with compatriots.’18 The Patriarch emphasises that parishes are developing not only religious but also social activities: ‘Parishes sometimes help our compatriots to study the local language, to find jobs and to get advice on social matters.’19 At the same time, he adds, parishes work to strengthen the ties of their flock with the Russian motherland, providing, for example, Russian classes for second- and third-generation emigrants. During a meeting with the President of Germany, Kirill highlighted the positive role of the Orthodox parishes in fostering the integration of Russian immigrants: ‘We help our parishioners to adjust to the local conditions; we introduce them to German laws; we help them to study German and give them legal assistance.’20 Kirill’s rosy description of Russian émigré parish life is somewhat relativised by one of the rare studies that focus on Orthodox migration. The anthropologist Cinzia Solari has compared Ukrainian Greek Catholic and Russian Orthodox parish life in the city of Rome and has found out that the settlement practices of the two churches differed strongly, with the Greek Catholic Church providing a number of services to immigrant (Greek Catholic) Ukrainians, and the Russian Orthodox Church not providing settlement assistance, neither to the large group of (Russian Orthodox) Ukrainian guest workers, nor to other Orthodox nationals.21 Solari’s study offers an anthropologist’s insight into the life of two immigrant religious communities, including details such as the seating hierarchy at Sunday lunch in the Russian Orthodox parish and the

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assistance of Greek Catholic priests in filling out questionnaires of the Italian immigration office.22 Most importantly, however, she points out that the religious communities sustain political objectives: the political objective of the Greek Catholic Ukrainian parish in Rome was to foster Ukrainian transnationalism by providing welcome and return services for Ukrainian guest workers, whereas the Russian Orthodox parish seemed to pursue a politics of representation, investing considerable energy and funds into the construction of the new Russian Orthodox cathedral in Rome. Solari’s study helps to make clear the nature of the challenges which Orthodox churches face with regard to their émigré communities. The churches have to devise an active strategy to attract and keep their believers. Apart from offering pastoral care, one strategy is certainly to provide immigrants with settlement services, with assistance in matters of language, bureaucracy and work. The Russian Orthodox Church in Rome pursues a different strategy: it apparently does not see its task as providing settlement assistance, but pastoral care and – notably – status: since 2009, the Russian Orthodox community can boast an Orthodox cathedral on the hilltop opposite the Vatican (St Catherine’s Cathedral).23 Both strategies seem legitimate; both constitute a pastoral, logistic and financial challenge to the Orthodox mother churches. An ultimate challenge for the Orthodox churches with regard to their émigré communities concerns the emergence of new forms of parish life. In the United States, for example, sociologists of religion have documented the gradual ‘Americanisation’ of immigrant churches and religious practices: [T]here is a trend to conformity, including features such as the use of the English language, holding weekly services, having a sermon as a focal point of the service, and an increasing role of the laity in managing the affairs of church activities.24 This development has been called ‘de facto congregationalism’ and it suggests that Orthodox Christians abroad may eventually form communities that are culturally and linguistically adapted to the host country and thereby challenge the ties with their mother churches.

Orthodox Christianity as immigrant religion The third set of challenges which international migration creates for Orthodox churches is related to the minority status of Orthodoxy in the countries of immigration. In their home context, most Orthodox churches enjoy a privileged political status either as state churches or as the confession of the majority of the population. In an immigration context, Orthodox churches are in a minority position and have to compete for status and recognition with other religions. Furthermore, since most models of church–state cooperation in Europe require a unitary representation of their religious minorities, the

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immigrant Orthodox churches have to overcome national cleavages and work together in order to speak with one voice. Immigrant religions are newcomers to established models of church–state cooperation.25 In most Western European countries, they are incorporated into existing settings of cooperation and collaborate with the government and local administrations on issues that concern religious freedom and practice. They have the right to be consulted on religious legislation and play an active role in providing religious services, such as religious education in public schools or religious counselling in prisons and the Army. They also interact with local administrations for the establishment and construction of appropriate places of worship. In many European countries, immigrant religions are recognised as bodies in public law and receive government funding.26 A genuinely new challenge for the Orthodox churches lies in the fact that immigrant religions are increasingly addressed on issues of immigrant integration. This is a relatively new phenomenon, primarily related to the stress on Islam and to concerns about the integration of Muslim immigrants. The stress on Islam and integration has de facto translated into a generally heightened attention to minority religions by policy-makers and has therefore, indirectly, benefited the Orthodox churches. In some countries, Orthodox churches have come to play a public role as representatives of migrants from Eastern and Southeastern Europe. In Germany, for example, a representative of the Russian Orthodox Church and a representative of the Orthodox Church of Greece have recently been elected members of the ‘Committee for Migration, Refugees and Integration’ of the German government;27 in Austria the Greek Orthodox metropolitan represents the Orthodox churches in a commission on integration.28 These committees work on policies that foster the integration of immigrants. The inclusion of religious organisations into institutional bodies of this kind can be interpreted in two ways. On the one hand, it can be seen as the result of parity claims in state–church relations.29 Religious organisations traditionally play an important role in the care of immigrants and refugees (for example Caritas) and are frequently the promoters of religious and intercultural dialogue. Governments therefore have an interest in consulting these religious organisations as experts on integration. Once a government is in dialogue with one religious body, it cannot – on the principle of equal treatment –ignore the others. On the other hand, the inclusion of religious organisations in policy debates on integration is also a sign that governments consider minority religions as representatives of immigrants. By addressing minority religious organisations, governments try to reach out to immigrants and include them in public and political debates even in the absence of formal citizenship rights.30 However, there is a downside to this inclusion: as immigrant religions acquire public status through the subject of integration, there is a risk that religion itself is seen as the main obstacle for integration.31 The Orthodox churches seem caught between these two interpretations. On the one hand, they may stress their efforts to foster the smooth integration

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of their believers into the host society, as Patriarch Kirill does in his abovequoted speech before the German President. On the other hand, they may emphasise that Orthodox Christians are not really ‘newcomers’ to Christian Europe and therefore also not subject to the same type of integration problems as, for example, Muslim immigrants. This is, for instance, the line of a representative of the Syrian Orthodox Church in Austria, who said during an interview: ‘Islam enjoys special treatment. … We [the Orthodox] are different. We are people who seek a second home in Austria.’32 A sociological study of Orthodox immigrant communities in Switzerland has shown that there are two reasons for the low profile of Orthodox churches in the public sphere of their host country. One reason, according to this study, lies in the fact that Orthodox Christians seem to integrate easily into their host society and therefore receive less public attention than the ‘problematic’ Islam. Another reason, however, can be found in the poor institutional integration and lack of unitary representation of the Orthodox churches, which leads to a lack of involvement on local and national level and a peculiar ‘Orthodox silence’ on topical social and political issues.33 The Orthodox churches’ minority status poses a concrete institutional challenge. Most countries with selective cooperation systems of church–state relations require a unitary representation of their religious interlocutors. Austria, for example, recognises thirteen Orthodox churches as religious organisations, but considers the Metropolitan of the Greek Orthodox diocese as their spokesperson,34 despite the express wish of the Russian Orthodox Church to be accorded an equal role.35 In Switzerland, attempts to reach a unitary representation of Orthodox Christians on the national level have been hindered by divergent legislations in the different cantons and by different ideas about the hierarchy of Orthodox bishops in the communities themselves.36 In most Western countries, the unitary representation of Orthodox Christians is contested between diasporas from Russia, Greece, Serbia and Romania, while the requirement to speak with one voice constitutes a political and institutional challenge for the churches. Orthodox churches in Western Europe have a minority status, but their concerns with regard to religious freedom and tolerance tend to be less acute than in the case of Islamic communities. Orthodox Christians, however, are just as much affected by problems of integration when it comes to work, housing, language competence or schooling as are immigrants of other religious creeds. The challenge for the Orthodox churches abroad is whether they can actually address these concrete problems and fulfil the role which the politics of integration and religious governance in many Western countries reserve for them.

Orthodox countries as immigration countries The fourth migration-related challenge for Orthodox churches lies in immigration of foreigners to traditionally Orthodox countries. Virtually all

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countries where Orthodoxy is the majority religion have traditionally been emigration countries, including Greece, Cyprus, Romania and Bulgaria. In recent years, however, this situation has changed and these countries have themselves become receiving countries for migrants from other parts of Eastern Europe, the Middle East, Asia and Africa. This is a new situation for the Orthodox churches, which have to face up to new tasks in accommodating newcomers and are confronted with an increase in religious pluralism in society. One major motive behind contemporary immigration to Orthodox countries is asylum. European migration legislation has turned the Orthodox countries in Eastern and Southeastern Europe from transit to immigration countries. Refugees and asylum-seekers from Asia, the Middle East and Africa used to reach Europe at its southeastern end (Greece, Bulgaria, Romania) and move on from there to Western Europe. The Dublin Regulation of the European Union has put a stop to this movement.37 These countries are now considered ‘safe third states’ and refugees are asked to file their asylum request in these countries.38 Greece, which is part of the passport-free travel zone of Schengen, has received a major influx of illegal immigrants and asylum-seekers.39 Over the last few years, Greece has been repeatedly criticised by the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) and by the European Commission for not respecting adequate standards in its treatment of asylum-seekers, and in 2010, some Western European countries stopped sending asylum-seekers back to Greece under the Dublin regulation.40 The Greek Orthodox Church has also been called into question: in dialogue with the UNHCR the Church has committed itself to providing humanitarian help and assistance to refugees.41 The institutional body through which the Greek Orthodox Church gets involved in refugee issues is the Ecumenical Refugee Programme, a branch of the Holy Synod’s Aid Centre for Repatriated Migrants (KSPM). Initially established in order to help Greek guest workers return to Greece from Western Europe, the Centre is now increasingly involved in dealing with asylum-seekers and immigrants.42 This is arguably a new role for the Church. Greek Orthodoxy can historically relate to the concerns of refugees through its own experience of the expulsion of Orthodox Christians from Turkey, but today it is faced with a very different group of refugees and needs to devise different strategies of accommodation. Immigration also poses a political challenge to the Orthodox Church of Greece, because it creates a new situation of religious pluralism in the country. The influx of asylum-seekers in particular from Iraq and Afghanistan, but also the work-related immigration of Albanians to Greece, has led to a sharp increase in the number of Muslims. The traditional Greek system of religious governance is put under strain by this development: Greek legislation grants religious freedom to all citizens and recognises the Greek Orthodox Church, the Jewish and the Muslim communities as bodies in public law. This recognition, however, is based on historical legacies and has territorial limits. The

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Greek Muslim community is chiefly located in Thrace, western Greece, and the state grants financial support to the communities and mosques in that region.43 The Muslim communities in Athens and other major cities are demographically distinct from the officially recognised Muslim minority in Thrace. The Report on Religious Freedom of the US State Department estimates that this is a population of 200,000 persons, primarily migrants from the Middle East, South Asia and East Africa. Muslim leaders in Athens are reported to have complained about the continued absence of an official mosque or recognised Muslim clergy. Consequently, Muslims living in Athens or other areas outside of Thrace have to travel to Thrace or go abroad in order to have official Islamic marriages or funerals.44 The example of Greece shows how, just as in Western Europe, migration leads to greater religious pluralism and challenges established modes of religious governance and church–state cooperation. The consequences of this development are potentially more problematic for the Orthodox churches than they are for the Catholic or Protestant churches in Western Europe, however, because this new religious pluralism coincides with the ongoing reaffirmation of the public role of the Orthodox churches after decades of communist suppression. Churches may find it difficult to relinquish their newly acquired privileged status. The situation in Russia in particular gives the impression that the Russian Orthodox Church interprets religious pluralism in two ways: either as a question of historically rooted, territorially circumscribed cultural and religious pluralism, in which case it is fully endorsed and cooperation between the religious leaders of these ‘traditional religions’ is supported; or as a question of competition, sectarianism and proselytism, in which case the Church works against minority religions.45 The 1997 law on religions in Russia is a good example of this dual approach.46 Migration obviously challenges the first interpretation, because it upsets traditional patterns of religious pluralism in a country. However, the second strategy of hostility is certainly an inadequate response to the challenges of migration. It can therefore be expected that the Orthodox churches will eventually have to redefine their position vis-à-vis minority religions and will have to come to terms with the realities of religiously pluralist societies.

Conclusion This chapter has offered an overview of the challenges which international migration in the twenty-first century poses to the Orthodox churches. It has identified four sets of challenges: the emergence of a transnational Orthodoxy, the tasks of Orthodox churches as settlement institutions for migrants, the role of Orthodox churches as representatives of migrants and, shifting the perspective from emigration to immigration, the increase of religious pluralism in traditionally Orthodox countries. The most important finding of this analysis is that the traditional division of Orthodox Christianity along national and linguistic lines is challenged by international migration.

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The first part of this edited volume has presented Orthodox Christianity in the traditional way, with the churches neatly separated along national lines. Cooperation and confrontation between these units may take place in panOrthodox councils, but the pillarised structure itself remains untouched. A considerably different picture of contemporary Orthodoxy emerges from this study of Orthodox Christianity and migration. Many of the examples cited in this chapter challenge the traditional picture of Orthodox Christianity. From the perspective of Orthodox believers worldwide, Orthodox Christianity in the twenty-first century appears less and less confined to national boundaries or canonical territories, and may be becoming a transnational, global religion. Just as we talk about the waning of the nation-state in politics,47 national categories also appear to be losing their relevance in the study of religion. Modern technologies of communication create the possibility for Orthodox believers to feel themselves part of a global Orthodoxy, with considerable consequences for religious teaching and practice. Orthodox Christianity, especially in its Russian version, has a long history of hostility towards ‘the West’, which was considered by many Orthodox thinkers as the place of heresy and secularism. International migration upsets the picture of a clash of civilisations, because it brings the Orthodox world and Western society closer together. The experience of the Russian diaspora in the twentieth century shows that this encounter is likely to lead to more mutual openness and understanding, to an Orthodox Christianity that is equally at home in the West and in its countries of origin. National chauvinisms and cultural stereotypes are certainly still widespread in the encounter between Orthodox Christianity and the West, but international migration may help to break these old patterns of separation.

Notes 1 Caritas-Migrantes, ‘L’appartenenza religiosa degli immigrati in Italia’, Dossier Statistico Immigrazione Caritas-Migrantes, 2011, http://www.caritasitaliana.it/ materiali/Pubblicazioni/libri_2011/dossier_immigrazione11/scheda_religioni.pdf (accessed 27 November 2011). 2 Matthias Koenig, ‘How Nation-States Respond to Religious Diversity’, in Paul Bramadat and Matthias Koenig (eds), International Migration and the Governance of Religious Diversity, Vancouver: University of British Columbia Press, 2008, pp. 293–322. 3 Russian Orthodox Church, ‘Patriarch Kirill meets with the President of Germany’, Official Website of the Department for External Church Relations (www.mospat. ru), 13 October 2010, http://www.mospat.ru/en/2010/10/13/news27935/ (accessed 27 November 2011). 4 Bundesamt für Migration und Flüchtlinge, ‘Das Bundesamt in Zahlen 2010: Asyl, Migration, ausländische Bevölkerung und Integration’, Official Website of the German Federal Office for Migration and Refugees (www.bamf.de), 2010, http:// www.bamf.de/SharedDocs/Anlagen/DE/Publikationen/Broschueren/bundesamtin-zahlen-2010.pdf ?__blob=publicationFile (accessed 27 November 2011). 5 Julia Mourão Permoser, Sieglinde Rosenberger and Kristina Stoeckl, ‘Religious Organisations as Political Actors in the Context of Migration: Islam and Orthodoxy in Austria’, Journal of Ethnic and Migration Studies, 2010, 36 (9), 1463–81.

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6 Phyletism is the concept that an autocephalous church should be based on national or linguistic criteria. The Pan-Orthodox Synod of Constantinople in 1872 condemned phyletism as a modern ecclesial heresy. Nonetheless, the majority of Orthodox churches define their jurisdictions in national and linguistic terms, with the exception of the multinational Russian Orthodox Church and the Ecumenical Patriarchate of Constantinople. 7 John Meyendorff, The Orthodox Church: Its Past and its Role in the World Today, 4th rev. edn, Crestwood, NY: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 1996. 8 Sergej Hackel, ‘Diaspora Problems of Russian Emigration’, in Michael Angold (ed.), The Cambridge History of Christianity, vol. 5, Eastern Christianity, Cambridge and New York: Cambridge University Press, 2006, pp. 539–57. 9 Meyendorff, Orthodox Church. 10 Russian Orthodox Church, ‘Patriarch Kirill’s address to the Third Congress of Compatriots’, Official Website of the Department for External Church Relations (www.mospat.ru), 2 December 2009, http://www.mospat.ru/en/2009/12/02/ news9586/ (accessed 27 November 2011). 11 The controversy surrounding the Russian Orthodox Diocese of Sourozh is emblematic of the problems that may emerge between an Orthodox mother church and its diaspora community in the West. So far, no independently researched article describes the events that led to the split in the Diocese of Sourozh in 2006; I therefore refer the reader to the website of the diocese: http://www.sourozh.org/ (accessed 16 January 2012). 12 These meetings are duly documented on the website of the Department for External Relations of the Russian Orthodox Church, see for example: Russian Orthodox Church, ‘Patriarch Kirill meets with the President of Germany’; and Russian Orthodox Church, ‘Patriarch Kirill meets with the President of Slovenia’, Official Website of the Department for External Church Relations (www.mospat.ru), 17 November 2010, http://www.mospat.ru/en/2010/11/17/news30636/ (accessed 27 November 2011). 13 Russian Orthodox Church, ‘Third World Congress of Compatriots section meeting on “The role of the ROC and other traditional confessions in consolidation of united space of the Russian world”’, Official Website of the Department for External Church Relations (www.mospat.ru), 2 December 2009, http://www.mospat.ru/en/2009/12/02/news9603/ (accessed 27 November 2011). 14 Hackel, ‘Diaspora Problems’, p. 541. 15 The Russian Orthodox Church outside Russia canonised Tsar Nicholas II in 1981, while the Russian Orthodox Church only did so in 2000. The article by Nina Schmit describes how the Russian reproduction (a colour photocopy) of an icon of Tsar-Martyr Nicholas produced in the United States becomes miraculous (myrrh-streaming) in Russia. The gatherings of Orthodox believers around this icon are seen with suspicion by the Patriarchate in Moscow, which had, at that time, not yet canonised the Tsar. A documentary film about the events was produced for the US audience of Orthodox believers. The film screenings, which Schmit attended as participant observer, have become important religious and social events in the Russian diaspora in the USA and contribute to the creation of what Schmit calls ‘a transnational religious community’. Nina Schmit, ‘A Transnational Religious Community Gathers around an Icon: The Return of the Tsar’, in Victor Roudometof, Alexander Agadjanian and Jerry G. Pankhurst (eds), Eastern Orthodoxy in a Global Age: Tradition Faces the Twenty-First Century, Walnut Creek, CA: AltaMira Press, 2005, pp. 210–23. 16 Christopher D. L. Johnson, The Globalization of Hesychasm and the Jesus Prayer: Contesting Contemplation, London and New York: Continuum, 2010. 17 Charles Hirschmann, ‘The Role of Religion in the Origins and Adaptation of Immigrant Groups in the United States’, in Alejandro Portes and Josh DeWind

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24 25 26 27

28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35

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(eds), Rethinking Migration: New Theoretical and Emperical Perspectives, New York: Berghahn Books, 2007, p. 395. Russian Orthodox Church, ‘Patriarch Kirill’s address to the Third Congress of Compatriots’. Ibid. Russian Orthodox Church, ‘Patriarch Kirill meets with the President of Germany’. Cinzia Solari, ‘Transnational Politics and Settlement Practices’, American Behavioral Scientist, 2006, 49 (11), 1528–53. Ibid. The picture gallery on the website of St Catherine’s Cathedral of the Russian Orthodox Church in Rome is emblematic: the golden cupola and the bells of the cathedral, the construction of which was completed in 2009, are photographed with the dome of St Peter’s in the background. The picture composition places St Peter’s side-by-side or slightly below the Orthodox cathedral, http://www.stcaterina.org/ru/photo/index.php?page_imagelib=2 (accessed 27 November 2011). Hirschmann, ‘Role of Religion’, p. 400. Veit Bader, ‘The Governance of Religious Diversity: Theory, Research, and Practice’, in Bramadat and Koenig (eds), International Migration, pp. 45–74. John T. S. Madeley and Zsolt Enyedi (eds), Church and State in Contemporary Europe, London: Frank Cass, 2003. See ‘Beirat der Beauftragten der Bundesregierung für Migration, Flüchtlinge und Integration’, Homepage of the German Government, 2011, http://www. bundesregierung.de/Content/DE/Artikel/IB/Artikel/Beirat/2011–01–13intergrationsbeirat.html (accessed 27 November 2011); Russian Orthodox Church, ‘Predstavitel’ russkoj pravoslavnoj cerkvi voshel v komitet po integracii pri federal’nom kanclere Germanii’ [A representative of the Russian Orthodox Church has become a member of the committee for integration of the Federal Government of Germany], Official Website of the Department for External Church Relations, 15 May 2011, http://www.mospat.ru/ru/2011/05/17/news41627/ (accessed 27 November 2011). Permoser et al., ‘Religious Organisations as Political Actors’. Koenig, ‘How Nation-States Respond’, pp. 301–2. Julia Mourão Permoser and Sieglinde Rosenberger, ‘Religious Citizenship versus Politics of Migrant Integration: The Case of Austria’, in Bramadat and Koenig (eds), International Migration, pp. 259–89. Regula Zürcher, ‘Religionsgemeinschaften in der Integrationspolitik der Schweiz’, G2W. Ökumenisches Forum für Glaube, Religion und Gesellschaft in Ost und West, 2011, 5, 14–15. Quoted in Permoser et al., ‘Religious Organisations as Political Actors’. Maria Haemmerli, ‘Orthodoxe Kirchen in der Schweiz’, G2W. Ökumenisches Forum für Glaube, Religion und Gesellschaft in Ost und West, 2011, 5, 19–21. Richard Potz and Brigitte Schinkele, Religionsrecht im Überblick, Vienna: Facultas Verlags- und Buchhandels AG, 2005. As reported by KathPress [Katholische Presseagentur] on 21 May 2007, President Putin urged the Austrian government to give an equal role to the representative of the Russian Orthodox Church during his state visit to Vienna; see: ‘Wien: Putin besuchte am Donnerstag russische Kathedrale St. Nikolaus’, KathPress, 21 May 2007. Haemmerli, ‘Orthodoxe Kirchen’. European Council, ‘Council Regulation (EC) No. 343/2003 of 18 February 2003 Establishing Criteria and Mechanisms for Determining the Member State Responsible for Examining an Asylum Application Lodged in One of the Member States by a Third-Country National’, Official Journal of the European Union, 25

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41 42

43 44 45

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February 2003, http://eur-lex.europa.eu/LexUriServ/LexUriServ.do?uri=OJ:L:200 3:050:0001:10:EN:PDF (accessed 16 January 2012). Bundesamt für Migration und Flüchtlinge. ‘Charlemagne: The Unstoppable Flow’, The Economist, 17 February 2011. UNHCR, ‘UNHCR says asylum situtation in Greece is “a humanitarian crisis”’, Website of the UNHCR: News, 21 September 2010, http://www.unhcr. org/4c98a0ac9.html (accessed 27 November 2011); Panayiotis N. Papadimitriou and Ioannis F. Papageorgiou, ‘The New “Dubliners”: Implementation of European Council Regulation 343/2003 (Dublin-II) by Greek Authorities’, Journal of Refugee Studies, 2005, 18 (3), 299–318. UNHCR, ‘UNHCR and Greek Orthodox Church discuss cooperation on refugee issues’, Website of the UNHCR: News, 30 May 2006, http://www.unhcr. org/447c59d22.html (accessed 27 November 2011). George Mesthos, ‘Interview: Antonios Papantoniou, KSPM’, Prevailing Faith: The Church of Greece and Immigrants, cyber hub, 15 April 2010, http://prevailingfaith.wordpress.com/2010/04/15/interview-antonios-papantoniou-kspm/ (accessed 16 January 2012). Bernd Groen, ‘Dominant Orthodoxy, Religious Minorities and Human Rights’, in Jonathan Sutton and Wil van den Bercken (eds), Orthodox Christianity and Contemporary Europe, Leuven, Paris and Dudley, MA: Peeters, 2003, pp. 439–54. US Department of State, International Religious Freedom Report 2010, Greece, http://www.state.gov/g/drl/rls/irf/2010/148940.htm (accessed 27 November 2011). Alexander Verkhovsky, Galina Kozhevnikova and Olga Sibireva, Xenophobia, Freedom of Conscience and Anti-Extremism in Russia 2008: A Collection of Annual Reports by the SOVA Centre for Information and Analysis, Moscow: SOVA Centre, 2009. Derek H. Davis, ‘Editorial: Russia’s New Law on Religion: Progress or Regress?’, Journal of Church and State, 1997, 39, 645–56. Jürgen Habermas, ‘The Postnational Constellation and the Future of Democracy’, in The Postnational Constellation, Cambridge: Polity Press, 2001, pp. 58–112.

36 The Greek Catholic churches in postwar Catholic–Orthodox relations Thomas Bremer

In Orthodoxy, the Eastern Catholic churches have a very bad reputation. They are regarded as traitors who (or whose forefathers) have abandoned their faith because of material advantages, and as an instrument of the Roman Church for subordinating Orthodoxy to the pope. Even in areas where there have never been any attempts of unions, the term ‘unification’ serves as a tool for describing all evil which is attributed to the Catholic Church. In this use of the word, real or perceived historical experience with the Catholic (‘Latin’) West is concentrated. When the ecumenical movement arose in the twentieth century, the ‘Uniate churches’ immediately became a central subject for Orthodox representatives in encounters and negotiations with Western churches. This culminated in the 1960s when the Catholic Church joined the ecumenical effort and entered into various bilateral dialogues. Though relations between Orthodoxy and Rome became much better, better than at any time since the schism, the issue nevertheless remained unresolved and gained new importance after the political changes in Central and Eastern Europe which offered possibilities for new and intense activities for the Churches in almost all the countries of Eastern Europe. In this chapter, I will first demonstrate the historical developments of relations between the two churches, the changes brought about by Vatican II and the official ecumenical dialogue, and the new changes after 1989/1990. Second, I will address the question theologically and examine the theological issues which form the subject of discussions between Orthodoxy and Catholicism. In a third section, I will describe the most important ecumenical document concerning the issue of Eastern Catholicism between the two churches, the so-called ‘Balamand document’. I will then consider internal developments within the Eastern Catholic churches. How, in concrete terms, is the idea of being a Catholic Church of an Eastern rite, adhering at the same time to the Roman Pontiff and to the Eastern traditions, put into practice, and how does it influence the reality of the Eastern Catholic churches?

Relations between the Catholic and Orthodox churches after 1945 The relations between the two churches in the years after the Second World War were characterised by two decisive factors, the Cold War and the

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self-isolation of the Catholic Church. Though the Cold War was mainly an issue for the northern hemisphere and concentrated in Europe, it spread to the ‘Third World’, where states fought deputy wars instead of the great powers, the USSR and the USA. These tensions between the two blocs largely determined relations between the churches. Under Pius XII, the Catholic Church remained in an isolated position. It did not take part in the ecumenical movement because it regarded itself as the only Church, identical with the Church of Jesus Christ, so that church unity was already a given in the Catholic Church – other Christians had simply to join it in order to be redeemed.1 And the Catholic Church tried not to intervene directly into political affairs. It had condemned communism clearly, and had regarded fascism in Italy and Spain and the German Nazi regime as the lesser evil. Now, after the war, it had to recognise that millions of its faithful were obliged to live under a communist regime, and that the Church in those countries suffered severe persecution. Isolation had led to the consequence that for centuries there were virtually no official relations between the Catholic and the Orthodox Church. In Catholic eyes, the Orthodox were regarded as schismatics who did not recognise the primacy of the pope, and from an Orthodox point of view Catholics had broken away from the fullness of the Church by introducing new doctrines. Therefore, even in regions without a communist government, like Greece or the Middle East, the Roman Church did not entertain relations towards the Orthodox, although it would have been politically possible. In countries where there was persecution of religion, cooperation or contact between churches was hardly possible. This did not exclude private encounters between lay people and clergy of both churches and sympathy for the other tradition, and there was frequently shared suffering under persecution; a kind of ecumenism in jails and prison camps. But officially, the general position was mutual silence towards the other side. The Catholic Church abandoned its isolation in the 1960s when the Second Vatican Council was held in Rome (1962–5).2 The Church opened itself up to the contemporary world, and officially entered the ecumenical movement. As a consequence, several bilateral dialogues with Catholic participation began; Rome concentrated more on bilateral dialogues than engaging in the multilateral meetings which had been more usual in the ecumenical movement until then. Above all, the friendly relations between the Ecumenical Patriarchate of Constantinople and the Holy See must be mentioned.3 Patriarch Athenagoras and Pope Paul VI met several times, beginning even during the Council, and so did all their successors (with the exception of Pope John Paul I, who reigned for only four weeks). Catholic relations with the Russian Orthodox Church (ROC) also improved greatly. In 1948 an Orthodox meeting in Moscow with the participation of representatives from Eastern European countries had condemned the Catholic Church, above all the papacy, and the ecumenical movement.4 But already, only a few years later, the Moscow Patriarchate, which had joined the World Council of Churches in 1961, accepted the Roman invitation to send representatives to

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the Vatican Council and in this way claimed a leading role in Orthodoxy as the Ecumenical Patriarchate was uncertain whether to send envoys. In 1967, an official dialogue began between Rome and Moscow, and in 1978, Pope John Paul II and Patriarch Dimitrios announced that a ‘Joint International Commission for Theological Dialogue between the Catholic Church and the Orthodox Church’ would soon begin to work in order to overcome the theological differences between the two churches. At this time there was great hope that the churches could reach common understanding. In addition, the atmosphere had greatly improved. Mutual visits took place, an exchange of students and scholars had already started in the 1960s, and church leaders regularly sent each other greetings at festivals such as Easter and Christmas, patronal feasts, the anniversary of election and other occasions. This friendly relationship was called the ‘dialogue of love’, while the theological dialogue was named the ‘dialogue of truth’. In the late 1980s, perestroika in the USSR changed the political system and in the end led to the break-up of the Soviet Union and the communist bloc. It also brought freedom of religion. The churches in former communist countries were no longer persecuted, and other churches and religious organisations which had been hindered in their mission could now act more or less freely. This process had several consequences: on the one hand, the Orthodox Church in these countries gained or regained many new believers, and enjoyed a high reputation in society. In Russia, Romania, Bulgaria and several other countries the traditional religion, i.e. Orthodoxy, was now regarded very positively. On the other hand, a kind of religious ‘market’ appeared, and everyone could openly confess or propagate their religion. A multicoloured picture of religion became apparent: the faithful of traditional Western churches who had been oppressed in Soviet times, representatives of ‘sects’ or ‘cults’ and several forms of mixture between religious phenomena were evident. Some religious organisations from North America or Asia tried with the help of huge amounts of money to influence the mosaic of religion in Russia and other successor states of the USSR.5 For the ROC these developments had a double consequence: it grew in terms of numbers (members, congregations, priests) and in terms of reputation, but at the same time, its position as undisputed leader, its virtual monopoly in religious affairs in the Soviet Union, was called into question. In certain areas, where the Greek Catholic Church revived (especially in Western Ukraine), it lost almost all of its parishes and virtually disappeared. Within the country, the ROC claimed the exclusive right to Christianisation and reacted harshly against any Western Church which tried to gain new members, and against religious movements and communities with a non-Christian background, which it frequently labelled simply as ‘sects’. These events and developments especially bore on the relationship between the ROC and the Catholic Church. Within a short period of the time when Greek Catholic parishes could officially register in Ukraine, in 1989, many Orthodox congregations joined (or mostly rejoined) the Greek Catholic

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Church, so that in Western Ukraine, which was the region where the ROC had most of its parishes, Orthodoxy in communion with Moscow diminished greatly. Most candidates for the priesthood had traditionally come from western Ukraine, so that the ROC was also deprived of this important resource for priests. The Church was soon to create new parishes in Russia proper and in other regions, but the loss of Western Ukraine was a decidedly painful experience. The ROC saw a planned endeavour of the Catholic Church in these developments. It interpreted them as an attempt to damage Orthodoxy and to gain a firm position in the Soviet Union, in order to subordinate Russia to the papacy. This perception seemed to be confirmed by the fact that Catholics, above all the Vatican and the substantial Ukrainian diaspora, gave huge sums of money to the local Greek Catholic Church, which, in a situation of general economic decline in the country, was in a comfortable position in comparison with the other churches. However, one has to remember that this Church also had enormous needs, after forty years of suppression. Nevertheless, the re-emergence of Greek Catholic structures led to a dramatic deterioration of the relationship between the ROC and the Catholic Church. In this context, Orthodox–Catholic contacts in general, not only with regard to Russia, deteriorated. In many local Orthodox churches grievances against Rome arose, even if these churches were not concerned by what was called ‘Uniatism’. In Poland and Slovakia, Eastern Catholic churches continued to exist under communism; in Romania, where this Church was also suppressed, the reemergence did not cause as much trouble as in Ukraine (partly because in Romania there was no major region where Orthodoxy was almost ousted by the Greek Catholic Church, and the percentage of Orthodox faithful who joined the Greek Catholic Church was much lower). Furthermore, Eastern churches in the Middle East and in other areas of the world (especially in India) had been used for decades or even centuries to existing alongside Eastern Catholic churches. The most visible consequence of this deterioration pertained to the official theological dialogue between the two churches. The Orthodox members of the joint commission decided to talk exclusively about ‘uniatism’, as long as this problem persisted. The commission had decided at the very beginnings to take as a starting point what was in common in both traditions, and only later to touch on controversial issues. Three papers of great theological depth were adopted in 1982, 1987 and 1988,6 but now the issue of the Greek Catholic churches overshadowed the dialogue. The commission met in 1993 in Balamand, Lebanon, and approved a text ‘Uniatism, Method of Union of the Past, and the Present Search for Full Communion’. It is a document of key importance for the official dialogue and the relationship between the two churches, as we will see later. However, this joint declaration, which contained some concrete measures, was met with distrust by Orthodox and Greek Catholic Church leaders alike. In the years which followed, the official dialogue came to a halt. The commission met again only in 2000 but did not

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agree on a joint text; rather it published only a press statement in which the parties stated that they had been unable to reach agreement. There was an additional difficulty which also affected the Russian Orthodox–Roman Catholic relationship: during the Soviet regime: there was a Catholic hierarchy only in Latvia and in Lithuania. In all other parts of USSR, individual Catholic priests served, mostly in difficult circumstances, but no dioceses existed, and no bishops were allowed to exercise jurisdiction. After the end of the regime, the Holy See tried to normalise the situation of the Catholic Church. It founded dioceses in some countries (Ukraine, Belarus and others), and ‘Apostolic Administrations’ in Russia, a structure in accordance with Catholic canon law which has a character similar to a diocese. In 2002, these administrations were raised to the level of dioceses; in Moscow, an archdiocese was erected, and a Catholic Church province of ‘Russia’ was created. Though the Catholic Church tried to display respect for the fact that Russia was a predominantly Orthodox country (e.g., the dioceses were not named after the cities where they were situated, but after the patrons of the cathedrals – there was now a Catholic bishop of the diocese of St Joseph, not of the city of Irkutsk), the ROC met these changes with indignation. Information had been given on very short notice, and now a real war broke out which was fought by means of statements, public accusations, articles and press releases from both sides. The ROC accused the Catholic Church of proselytism, attempting to lure away Orthodox Church members: relations hit rock bottom.7 It was only in 2005 that the situation calmed down. There were several reasons: after the death of Pope John Paul II, Joseph Ratzinger was elected Pope Benedict XVI. Ratzinger was regarded as a rather conservative theologian, and he was German, not Polish. The Catholic Church was perceived in Russia as a Polish Church, and the person of the late pope was frequently charged with the poor relations between the churches. Furthermore, the ROC developed a policy for a ‘strategic alliance’ between the two churches, for which a better relationship was needed. And on the international level, the next meeting of the Joint Commission took place in 2006 in Belgrade. The Serbian hosts did everything to move the dialogue forward, and indeed the commission, which met in a new form, succeeded in restarting its labours and in arriving at a new theological statement which was eventually agreed on in Ravenna in 2007. In recent years, the relationship between the two churches reached a phase of normalisation. The Greek Catholic churches are still the subject of disagreement, but the churches also manage to discuss other issues. Numerous measures and actions have been undertaken which have helped to stabilise the relationship: mutual visits, statements on questions of common interest, exchange of students. As we can see, inter-church relations were and are very largely dependent on political circumstances. The churches cannot act regardless of the societies, states and circumstances in which they exist.

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The theological dimension: dividing issues When considering relations between the Catholic and Orthodox churches, the official contacts and meetings are only one side of the coin. In addition, there is a strong theological dimension. In the background of the historical unions, there were also theological reasons which had led to the division of the churches, and which must be overcome in order to achieve rapprochement. This chapter will therefore address the theological questions at issue. These can be split into two groups: issues which are of key importance for the churches, those which are connected to the core of doctrine which is understood as essential for each Church respectively. And on the other hand, issues which have in fact been solved or which are without great theological weight, but which play an important role in the identity of a church. The latter must not be neglected, although they are not the subject of theological (in the sense of doctrinal) discussion. On the first level, there were several themes in which both traditions traditionally differed, most prominent among them the papacy and the ‘Filioque’, but also the issue of which kind of bread was to be used for the Eucharist, leavened or unleavened, purgatory and a number of others. However, as a result of theological development in both churches and of ecumenical dialogue, most of these issues are regarded as solved, which means that they no longer have a church-dividing character. Although practices still differ, the Latin Church uses unleavened, the Eastern Church leavened bread, this question no longer forms a dividing issue. Both churches accept the validity of the Eucharist of the other one – with the exception of small groups of extremists who deny any validity to or within the other church, which are to be found in both churches. As for purgatory, the differences have always been relatively small, and the question of the eternal fate of those who have died is also no longer seen as a dividing one. This means that in the end only the prominent issues remained unsolved, i.e. the question on the papal jurisdiction, which was aggravated by the decisions of the First Vatican Council in 1870 on papal infallibility, and the Filioque. The latter is about an addition to the Nicene Creed, according to which the Holy Spirit proceeds ‘from the Father and the Son’, as opposed to the original Greek text, which says only ‘from the Father’: the words ‘and from the Son’ (in Latin ‘Filioque’), were added in the Western tradition. This issue has a double dimension: it does not pertain simply to any question of church structure or discipline, but is about God himself, about the Trinity, the central mystery of Christianity. An inaccurate confession of God would mean erroneous and false belief; the Filioque relates to the core of Christian faith. The other dimension is an ecclesiological one: the creed was adopted by an Ecumenical Council. From an Eastern perspective, a conciliar decision can be changed, if at all, by another council, but not by a pope. The Western tradition, however, had inserted the addition without consulting the East, and there was no decree of an Ecumenical Council which would have approved the insertion of

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the Filioque. In the late nineteenth century, however, Orthodox theologians began to perceive the Filioque as a theologoumenon, that is to say as a theological opinion of individuals, which might be wrong, but which should not divide the churches as it had no binding character.8 At the same time, within the churches of the West, an awareness of the original form of the creed arose, and as a consequence of ecumenical contacts, some Western churches started to drop the Filioque from their creed. In 1995 the Roman Catholic Church issued a statement according to which the Latin form of the creed had its own historical development and was not simply a translation of the Greek text, and the Latin word ‘procedere’ has a different meaning to the Greek ‘ekporeuesthai’ so that it logically required the Filioque in order to express the same meaning as the original text.9 There is as yet no final solution to the issue, but it seems that the differences could easily be overcome. The greatest problem between both churches is one of ecclesiology, i.e. the question about papal jurisdiction. The Western Church developed a doctrine of the Bishop of Rome being not only the head of his diocese and the Patriarch of the West, but the supreme pontiff of the universal church. This doctrine was never shared by the East, which acknowledged that the Roman bishop had a certain and limited primacy within the Church, but not that he enjoyed any jurisdictional privileges over the other patriarchates. As indicated, in the First Vatican Council, papal jurisdiction and papal infallibility were given a doctrinal character. There is so far no agreement between the churches in this field, and ecumenical talks about the papacy appear to be very difficult. From the sixteenth century, unions between the Catholic Church and parts of Eastern churches came about. They were constructed after the pattern of union of the Council of Florence in 1439: the Eastern bishops were required to accept the supremacy of the Pope, and they accepted in principle Western teaching on purgatory, the Filioque and other issues. But after giving their consent, they were allowed by Rome to continue with their customs, that is to say that they kept their form of liturgy, their calendar, they had married priests and other practices of the Eastern tradition. The current churches which emanated from these unions are the subject of this volume. However, for the Orthodox churches the unions presented a particular challenge. Their existence proved that unity between Eastern and Western churches under the guidance of Rome was possible – although these Eastern Catholic churches generally had to pay a very high price, the loss of their identity and the formation of a new one, with elements from both traditions. The Orthodox churches never accepted this situation. They regarded the Catholic churches of the Eastern rite as an abnormality, and they brought up the issue in talks with the Catholics as soon as possible. For this purpose, they used the term ‘Uniatism’, which meant an ideology (‘-ism’) aimed at converting Orthodox believers to (Eastern) Catholicism. They accused the Catholic Church of an active policy of proselytism. The 1993 Balamand document is a reaction of the official theological joint commission to these accusations. In

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this text, the members of the commission unanimously condemned ‘uniatism’ as not appropriate for sister churches, as will be shown later. In the background, there is a double problem: on the one hand, such unions are a logical consequence of the Catholic doctrine on papal primacy. Although it is to a certain extent an expression of an unhistorical way of thinking, since the Eastern churches before the schism had never known such a kind of papal authority, the Eastern Catholic churches represent how, according to Roman centralism, a ‘united’ church should look. It is important to note that in recent years and decades, an awareness is spreading in the Eastern Catholic churches which stresses the autonomy of each local church. Here one can feel a tension between these two poles of Catholicism, papal centralism and the plurality of local churches. On the other hand, the issue has a strong ecumenical dimension. Proselytism, the luring away of believers to join one’s own church, means in fact an abrogation of the concept of sister churches. If the Catholic Church accepts the Orthodox Church as a ‘sister’ (regardless of all the problematical connotations of this metaphor),10 it means that the Orthodox Church is a real church, that – according to Catholic belief – people in the Orthodox Church can be saved, can find their way to God. If so, there is no need to proselytise them. Unionism and the acceptance of converts, or even the attempt to convince people to convert, is proof that the other church is not a sister church but deficient. This is contrary to modern Catholic ecclesiology. In response to these clashes, the ROC has developed the concept of ‘canonical territory’.11 This means that in a given territory (generally in a patriarchate), there is a church which ‘naturally’ has the right to evangelise. The evangelisation of non-Christians in Russia, therefore, is the task of Russian Orthodox, not of other churches. These can merely take care of their own faithful, but not convert Orthodox or even agnostics. The Russian Church called people who are not baptised ‘potential Orthodox’ when they are of Russian origin. It claimed that in Russian parishes in Western countries it would also simply take care of Orthodox Russians living there, but not try to convert Western believers. These events show that the proper understanding and exercise of papacy in the broadest sense is the most sensitive issue in Catholic–Orthodox relations, and it is in a certain way the only one still unsolved. The Greek Catholic churches are at the core of this problem: they are Eastern churches with a growing consciousness that papal primacy belongs above all to the Western tradition, but they are Catholic, and their adherence and fidelity to Rome has frequently caused them severe persecution, but also brings the advantage of belonging to a global church. There is an inner Catholic debate about how local churches can have their autonomy in a centralised church, a debate which is different from the ecumenical dialogues with Orthodoxy – this can be seen clearly by the fact that there is no consensus about the place of Greek Catholic churches in the event that the Catholic and the Orthodox Church should reach agreement. Logically, they should be integrated into the respective Eastern churches of the (then) united church. But this is something which

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many representatives of today’s Eastern Catholicism would never accept; rather they have an opposing view which understands future unification as the integration of Orthodoxy into existing Greek Catholic structures. This indicates that there is no convincing and unanimous Catholic ecclesiology which would be prepared for such a situation. However, in addition to these ‘hard’ theological issues which divide both churches, there are ‘soft’ issues which are not in the foreground of theological thinking, but which are of no lesser importance and which should be mentioned here. One may summarise them as ‘confessional cultures’. This means that Eastern and Western churches have developed different types of Christian life, in terms of piety, liturgy, canon law, calendar and many other fields. In a general perception, these differences sometimes seem much more important than others. Frequently, in debates and arguments between people who invoke Orthodoxy and those who claim to confess Catholicism, the papacy or the Filioque clause will play a much smaller role than the question how one should cross oneself or when Christmas should be celebrated. It is important to note that these issues are of much greater weight and importance for the everyday life and practice of the churches and their members than the theological differences. For ‘normal’ members, they are perceived as church-dividing, since they occur in normal church life. Average parishioners will not be concerned with the papacy and the Filioque, they will even not know what these questions are about, but they will notice how a member of the other church, his neighbour or colleague, crosses himself, or when the other church celebrates holy days. These questions pertain to the field of a collective religious identity.

Balamand: an attempt to come to an agreement In 1993, at the peak of the crisis following the re-emergence of the Greek Catholic churches, the declaration ‘Uniatism, Method of Union of the Past, and the Present Search for Full Communion’, in short, the ‘Balamand document’ (after the place where it was adopted), was agreed on by the official commission for theological dialogue between both churches. In speaking on ‘uniatism’, i.e. on the issue of the Greek Catholic churches, the commission departed from its original plan ‘to start with what we have in common and, by developing it, to touch upon from within and progressively all the points on which we are not in agreement’, as it says in the Munich agreement, the first adopted text from 1982.12 After the developments of 1989 and 1990, especially in Ukraine and Romania, the Orthodox commission members decided not to continue with the normal logic of the talks but to negotiate exclusively on the question of Greek Catholicism as long as the issue was not solved. This finally led to the dead end to which the commission came after the Balamand meeting. The Catholic members of the commission were in a difficult situation as they understood the problems which were caused by the revival of the Greek

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Catholic churches for the Orthodox churches, but they felt solidarity with their fellow Catholics and were not in a position to change anything. After several meetings of sub-commissions and drafting committees, a declaration was formulated and adopted in the meeting at Balamand.13 It consists of two parts, which are called ‘Ecclesiological Principles’ and ‘Practical Rules’, and a short introduction. Already in the first paragraphs, two principles are clearly mentioned: ‘Uniatism’ (the word is defined only later in the text, in no. 12, as ‘missionary apostolate’, and it is always used in quotation marks) does not correspond to the tradition of the two churches and is therefore to be rejected, and the Eastern Catholic churches have the right to existence and the faithful are entitled to have their pastoral needs met. These principles are the core of the document and form the minimal consensus positions of both churches. It was the first time that Catholic representatives refrained from ‘uniatism’, and that Orthodox delegates acknowledged not only the factual existence of Greek Catholics, but their right to exist. The ecclesiological outlines show the historical development of the unions and name all the difficulties, such as proselytism and the suppression of Greek Catholic churches. It thus comes to the conclusion that uniatism ‘can no longer be accepted either as a method to be followed nor as a model of the unity our Churches are seeking’ (no. 12). The commission states this by using the model of ‘sister churches’ (no. 10) for the relationship between Rome and the East, which is further developed in the following paragraphs. In addition, they stress the necessity to normalise relations between the Greek Catholic Church and the Orthodox churches at all levels. The practical rules (nos. 19–35) state very clearly that no pastoral activity of either Church can have the aim of converting members of the other Church. Any form of proselytism, rebaptism or mission among the faithful of the other Church is rejected. The authorities of both churches should instruct their clergy and faithful and prepare them for a more open attitude towards the other Church. Information on pastoral acts should be given ahead of time in order to avoid any wrong impression, and it should be clear that such actions never have the agenda of people passing over to the respective other Church. The text is written in a spirit of the need for reconciliation and for a new relationship between both ‘sister churches’. The commission proposes the adequate training of clergy and intensive cooperation between the bishops. But theologically, the main issue is the refusal of the idea of exclusivity. The text says that this idea developed in the Catholic Church and was later also adopted by Orthodoxy (no. 10). It implies that there is no salvation in the other Church but that the only and exclusive way to be redeemed is in the Catholic Church. This belief is the background for conversions, and once it is acknowledged that members of the other Church will also be saved, there is no justification for any conversion. The document accepts that in both churches there are valid sacraments and a path to salvation. Thus, it offers

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a theological base for no longer accepting conversions between Catholicism and Orthodoxy. This point has evoked the harshest criticism of the Balamand document. But the assessments of historical events and developments also met with criticism from all sides. Above all, Greek Catholic officials and church leaders protested, and the bishops of the Romanian Greek Catholic Church even approached the Pope in order to prevent any official acknowledgement of the document (which anyway expresses only the standpoint of the Commission, as long as it is not adopted by church authorities).14 But there were also objections on the Orthodox side, above all to the de facto acknowledgement of the Greek Catholic churches. Representatives of the Athos monasteries sent a letter of protest to Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew.15 In the end, the document did not work out, at least not in Europe (whereas the situation is frequently better in the Middle East). There are almost no joint commissions at a local level as postulated in Balamand, communication between Greek Catholic and Orthodox bishops in the same area usually remains very poor and the concept of sister churches is not undisputed. Balamand was an attempt to solve pressing questions, but in reality it was a failure.

Elements of the internal development of Greek Catholic churches The Eastern Catholic churches themselves did not remain untouched by their role as a point of contention between the Roman Church and Orthodoxy. As long as the Roman model of church unity was understood as a ‘return’, it was clear that the Greek Catholic churches were the examples of how a future union should look. Only after the Roman Catholic Church opened up for ecumenical dialogue, and when it recognised the Orthodox Church as a sister church, was the role of the Greek Catholic Church endangered in a twofold way: on the one hand, it was no longer the exclusive form of ‘Church’ in the Eastern tradition. On the other hand, although it continued to be acknowledged by Rome, it was now the subject of negotiations between Rome and Orthodoxy. Representatives of the Greek Catholic churches frequently complained that they wanted to be involved in such talks.16 However, Rome wanted to handle the issue on its own as it feared that relations towards the Orthodox Church, which had developed positively and which were important to the leadership of the Catholic Church, would be damaged by the participation of the ‘Uniates’, who from their perspective regarded the Orthodox if not as the main perpetrators of the persecution of Greek Catholics, then at least as the beneficiaries, since it was generally they who took over Greek Catholic churches and parishes. Therefore, ‘ecumenism’ in Greek Catholic ears seemed to be understood as having good relations with the Church which it held mainly responsible for its own suppression. Greek Catholic theologians developed (or rediscovered) the idea of Greek Catholicism being the real way of ecumenism, of church unity: they regarded their Church as an already successful attempt to unite Eastern and Western

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traditions in one Church, under papal jurisdiction. According to this theory, the Orthodox churches simply had to acknowledge the pope, which is to say that they merely to go through the process of union which the Greek Catholic churches had already undergone centuries ago. However, for Orthodoxy, Greek Catholicism is not an attractive model for church union. There are several reasons for the rejection of such an idea by the Orthodox. One is the current shape of Greek Catholicism. It has, to a different degree in the different Eastern churches, undergone a certain occidentalisation. Sometimes, Rome demanded harmonisation with Latin practices. In 1720, the synod of Zamość introduced the Filioque into the creed of the Eastern Church in the Polish kingdom (i.e. largely the church in today’s Ukraine). Latin forms of piety like devotional services, statues in churches, and receiving communion on one’s knees came into use. It is possible, therefore, to speak of different forms of hybrids: a structure of liturgy and church practice which was mainly of the Eastern tradition, with elements adopted from the Western Church. Within a single Eastern Church this could even lead to schisms. In Ukraine, different practices between dioceses in some minor ritual questions such as standing or kneeling to receive communion caused serious conflict and sometimes the interruption of communion: priests from the one diocese could not concelebrate with priests from another. It is understandable that ‘union’ is not an attractive model for the Orthodox churches when they see how they would lose their identity. Most Orthodox theologians agree that the Roman bishop would have to play a prominent role in the united church – but they would never accept ‘Rome’ intervening in the internal affairs of their church, and certainly not in liturgical details which form the core of ecclesiastical identity. This is the ‘uniatism’ which was condemned in Balamand. It is of importance to note that there are various types of Greek Catholic churches. They differ in their historical emergence, in their current shape and also in their relationship with the Orthodox churches. The unions which eventually led to the churches in Ukraine and Romania have deep roots in the churches themselves. It was Orthodox bishops who – for different reasons – decided to enter into union with Rome. Other churches, such as the Maronites in Lebanon or the churches of Albanian tradition in Italy, never had an act of union; they simply continued to live their Eastern tradition under the supreme jurisdiction of the Roman bishop. Other unions, especially the later ones, were concluded with the active participation of Roman missionaries, who identified priests willing to accept union. These were consecrated bishop and a new Church was founded which never gained many believers. It is understandable that the circumstances of the beginnings of an Eastern Catholic Church also have consequences for today. Another aspect is the position which an Eastern Catholic Church nowadays occupies towards its own Eastern tradition. In 1894, in his encyclical Orientalium dignitas,17 Pope Leo XIII stressed the dignity of the Eastern

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rites and thus the idea of the ‘praestantia ritus Latini’, the precedence of the Roman rite, came to an end. After the Second Vatican Council, several Eastern churches undertook efforts to remove Western elements from their liturgies. They returned to their roots by eliminating what had been introduced later. For churches behind the Iron Curtain, this was not feasible. They were mostly underground and had no way of receiving and putting into effect the results of the Council. It was only after 1989 that discussions about the more Western or more Eastern orientation of their church arose. A good example is that of monasticism in the Ukrainian Catholic Church. After the union, the monks were merged into the order of St Basil the Great and called ‘Basilians’. This order developed very much in a Western shape; the mere fact that it was an order hints at something which is unknown in the Eastern tradition. In a first revival of the Eastern tradition, the Studite order was founded in early twentieth century. It takes its name from the famous Studion Monastery in Constantinople and tried to revive the original Eastern form of monasticism in the Greek Catholic Church. The question of the orientation of the monasticism is still disputed within this Church. The Basilians (and other orders, mostly of Western origin) strive to organise monks and nuns in a way which is similar to the practices of the Latin Church, whereas the Studites feel obliged to the Eastern monastic tradition. The consequence is that today the Eastern Catholic churches have a very different shape with a different attitude to their own identity. The author of this text was frequently told by monks and priests in Ukraine that they are ‘Orthodox under the jurisdiction of the Roman bishop’ – a phrase a Romanian Greek Catholic would hardly utter. Some churches insist on their autonomy and try to be as independent from Rome as possible, whereas others rely precisely on their connection with Rome as the decisive element of their identity. Again, Ukraine and Romania can serve as good examples. It is worth noting that here the national element also plays an important role: In Ukraine, Greek Catholicism can serve as a way to underline ‘Ukrainianess’, belonging to the Ukrainian nation, especially when the canonical Ukrainian Orthodox Church is in communion with Moscow and regarded as ‘Russian’. The Greek Catholic Church cooperates with non-canonical Orthodox churches which are accepted neither by world Orthodoxy nor by Rome as legal churches, but which stress their ‘Ukrainianess’. Ecclesial identity always goes along with national identity. In Romania, Greek Catholics and Orthodox are ethnic Romanians, and most Roman Catholics are ethnic Hungarians. By being Greek Catholic, one cannot stress ‘Romanianess’ any more than by being Orthodox. So the situations in both countries and churches differ massively. In 1990 the Catholic Church introduced a ‘Code of Canons of the Eastern Churches’ (CCEO) which is the codification of ecclesiastic law for the Greek Catholic churches. It is characterised in many details by a Latin spirit; this means that in cases of divergence between the Eastern and the Western tradition, the Code decides for a Western approach when the issue

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is regarded as relevant. The Eastern tradition does know a kind of ecclesiastical divorce in certain cases, after which the partners can enter into a new sacramental marriage even if the first one was valid. This is impossible in the Roman Church, and accordingly the CCEO does not cover such cases: the Eastern Catholic churches have had to adopt the Latin tradition. It is understandable that this and similar cases make it impossible for Orthodox churches to see Greek Catholicism as a way in which they could be in union with the Western Church, and nevertheless retain the spirit of Eastern Christianity. They fear that they would lose it, and historical experience shows how justified this fear is. The idea sometimes uttered by representatives of Greek Catholic churches that they are a ‘bridge’ between both traditions show this divergence clearly: once they are a bridge, they do not belong to either shore. This metaphor shows the dilemma of the Eastern Catholic churches. In addition, one must confess that the Catholic Church is widely seen as a Western Church. The different Eastern rites and churches hardly play a prominent role. In the Roman curia, Eastern priests and bishops are represented in the Congregation for the Eastern Churches, but not in other bodies. There are almost no nuncios from Eastern churches; Archbishop Edmond Farhat, former nuncio to several countries, before his retirement to Austria, and born in the Maronite Church, celebrated mass on most occasions in the Latin rite. In solemn papal masses, there are sometimes elements from Eastern liturgies included (for example a deacon reciting the Gospel in Greek); however, this does not underline the autonomy of Eastern Catholic churches but rather subordinates them to the Latin Church. In the life of the Catholic Church, the Eastern rite has a marginal role. The conceptual split regarding the Eastern tradition within Eastern Catholicism, i.e. what weight the Eastern tradition should have, can be felt in many fields, within a single church (as in the case of the Eastern Catholic Church in Ukraine), or between different churches. It has consequences also for relations with the Orthodox Church. Regardless of all problems and arguments, Orthodoxy is the point of reference for Eastern Catholicism. The historical experience, which is frequently regarded as a story of suppression of Eastern Catholic churches by Orthodoxy, and national issues sometimes prevail, but at the end of the day the final goal of church unity is accepted, although there may be very different ideas about how this unity could and should be manifested.

Conclusion The Catholic churches of the Eastern rite are one of the core problems in the relations between the Catholic and the Orthodox churches. This statement already unveils the main difficulty for these churches: it is understandable that they do not want to be regarded as a problem. They think rather that they can offer a solution for the relationship between the two churches. However, this

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offer is generally not accepted by the Orthodox, and even within the Catholic Church, there is frequently limited awareness of the role of the Greek Catholic churches. In particular, people who are engaged in ecumenical dialogue with the Orthodox do not always feel the need to find an adequate solution for the Eastern Catholic churches. On the other hand, representatives of the Orthodox churches often use the issue of the Greek Catholic churches as a means to exert pressure on the Catholic Church. The latter is faced with a dilemma: these churches are Catholic churches, and they have sometimes suffered severe persecution and oppression because of their fidelity to the Bishop of Rome. The largest of them, the Ukrainian Catholic Church, was banned for decades and nevertheless survived underground. Of course, this Church deserved solidarity on the part of Rome. But the ecclesiological model of Catholic theology and Church no longer corresponds to Greek Catholicism. It implies, indeed, that Orthodox churches are not churches in the proper sense, and that salvation can be reached only within the Catholic Church. But after the Second Vatican Council such a perspective is not applicable. In the end, the Catholic Church has no clear answer to the question about the borders of the Church. Roman declarations like ‘“Dominus Iesus”: On the Unicity and Salvific Universality of Jesus Christ and the Church’ and the ‘Note on the Expression “Sister Churches”’ (both published in 2000) clearly show the tension between an inclusive and an exclusivist position. The Greek Catholic churches are by no means the only issues which stand between the two churches. There are conceptual differences, which are mostly overlooked.18 But they can be of use for influencing the ecumenical process. For the Catholic Church, support of its Eastern rite churches remains beyond doubt, but it seems not to be the focus of its interests. In addition, it presents an obstacle for relations with Orthodoxy. Pope Benedict XVI has frequently stated that these relations enjoy the highest priority, as he sees much better chances of reaching agreement than with the Protestant churches. For Orthodoxy, the Greek Catholic churches can and do serve as a tool for accusing the Catholic Church of improper behaviour. Years after the situation in Western Ukraine calmed down and the number of Orthodox believers in the region remained constant, the Russian Orthodox Church still used this example to lay charges against the Catholic Church and its ‘proselytism’. This demonstrates that Greek Catholics are regarded by the Orthodox as a principal subject of disagreement, regardless of concrete actions and events. The Catholic and the Orthodox churches both want to arrive at church unity. However, there is a great difference in their understanding of what ‘church unity’ concretely means. This is not only a difference between the churches, but also within each of them. The churches should address this question and related issues which divide them theologically. If they reach agreement in this regard, the question of the Greek Catholic churches will also find a solution. But one must fear that the ecumenical process will mark time as both churches engage in other issues and conflicts.

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Notes 1 In his encyclical Mortalium Animos, Pius XI, the immediate predecessor of Pius XII, condemned the idea that there were any other churches than the Catholic Church, and that church unity could be achieved by any other means than the return of other Christians to the Catholic Church. Text at: http://www.vatican. va/holy_father/pius_xi/encyclicals/documents/hf_p-xi_enc_19280106_mortaliumanimos_en.html (accessed 7 May 2012). 2 The best history of this Council is the five-volume History of Vatican II, edited by Giuseppe Alberigo and Joseph A. Komonchak between 1995 and 2006, Maryknoll, NY: Orbis. For the history of its reception, see Massimo Faggioli, Vatican II: The Battle for Meaning, New York: Paulist Press, 2012. 3 Documented in Towards the Healing of Schism: The Sees of Rome and Constantinople: Public Statements and Correspondence between the Holy See and the Ecumenical Patriarchate, 1958–1984, ed. and translated by E. J. Stormon, New York: Paulist Press, 1987. 4 See the reaction of the Russian Orthodox Church, published in Ecumenical Review, 1948/49, 1, 188–97. 5 A useful survey of the religious situation in Eastern Europe can be found in the journal Religion, State and Society (since 1992; formerly Religion in Communist Lands). 6 The texts can be found in the three volumes of Growth in Agreement: Reports and Agreed Statements of Ecumenical Conversations on a World Level, vol. 1 [1971–81], ed. Harding Meyer and Lukas Vischer, New York: Paulist Press; Geneva: World Council of Churches, 1984; vol. 2 [1982–98]: ed. Jeffrey Gros, Harding Meyer and William G. Rusch, Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans; Geneva: WCC Publications, 2000; vol. 3 [1998–2005], ed. Jeffrey Gros, Thomas F. Best and Lorelei F. Fuchs, Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans; Geneva: WCC Publications, 2007 and available at http://www.vatican.va/roman_curia/pontifical_councils/chrstuni/sub-index/index_orthodox-ch.htm (accessed 7 May 2012). 7 See the more detailed Thomas Bremer, ‘Rome and Moscow, a Step Further’, Religion in Eastern Europe, 2003, 23 (2), 1–11. 8 Here we must mention the Russian Vasilij V. Bolotov (1854–1900). 9 The text was published in the official newspaper L’Osservatore Romano, English edition, on 20 September 1995; available at http://www.ewtn.com/library/curia/ pccufilq.htm (accessed 7 May 2012). It is marked with three asterisks which indicates that it is an official statement, but it is not published on the Vatican website. 10 I have elaborated on this difficulty in ‘Schwesterkirchen – im Dialog? Erfolge und Rückschritte in den orthodox-katholischen Beziehungen seit 1965’, in Johannes Oeldemann (ed.), Die Wiederentdeckung der communio, Würzburg, 2006, pp. 55–80. 11 See Johannes Oeldemann, ‘The Concept of Canonical Territory in the Russian Orthodox Church’, in Thomas Bremer (ed.), Religion and the Conceptual Boundary in Central and Eastern Europe. Encounters of Faith, Basingstoke: Palgrave, 2008, pp. 229–36. 12 Munich Agreement, Introduction, available at http://www.vatican.va/roman_curia/ pontifical_councils/chrstuni/ch_orthodox_docs/rc_pc_chrstuni_doc_19820706_ munich_en.html (accessed 7 May 2012). 13 The text of the Balamand Agreement is available at http://www.vatican.va/ roman_curia/pontifical_councils/chrstuni/ch_orthodox_docs/rc_pc_chrstuni_ doc_19930624_lebanon_en.html (accessed 7 May 2012). In our text, we will use numbers in brackets to refer to the respective paragraphs. 14 ‘Romanian Greek-Catholic Bishops on Balamand’, Eastern Churches Journal, 1994, 1 (2), 49–52.

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15 See: http://orthodoxinfo.com/ecumenism/athos_bal.aspx (accessed 7 May 2012). 16 This refers especially to talks between the Catholic Church and the Russian Orthodox Church about the situation in Ukraine, which were initially held without Ukrainian Greek Catholic participation. 17 The text is available at http://www.papalencyclicals.net/Leo13/l13orient.htm (accessed 7 May 2012). 18 I analysed some of them in ‘Ausgehen von dem, was uns gemeinsam ist. Überlegungen zum theologischen Dialog zwischen orthodoxer und katholischer Kirche’, Catholica, 2003, 57, 69–81.

37 Secularism without liberalism Orthodox churches, human rights and American foreign policy in Southeastern Europe Kristen Ghodsee [W]e need to explore the assumptions underlying judgments made by historically constituted states regarding the proper place of religion. Talal Asad1

In 1998, Bulgaria had the distinction of becoming the first country in the world where Jehovah’s Witnesses could choose to receive blood transfusions without threat of spiritual sanctions from the New-York-based Watchtower Bible and Tract Society, the international body responsible for the official interpretation of Jehovah’s Witnesses’ dogma.2 This was the result of a Bulgarian law that required all religions to be officially registered with a national Directorate of Religious Denominations. Although initially registered in 1991, a change in the law forced the Witnesses to reregister in 1994. At that time, the Bulgarian government refused to recognise the Witnesses as a religion, making it illegal for followers to proselytise, distribute literature, organise services or perform religious activities of any kind on Bulgarian soil.3 The Watchtower Society claimed that blood transfusions were unsafe, unhealthy and against the scriptures; the receipt of blood was forbidden to Witnesses and their families. The Bulgarian government argued that this policy undermined public safety and that it violated the rights of others. In particular, the idea that Jehovah’s Witnesses would willingly refuse a medically necessary blood transfusion that could save the life of their own child or incapacitated spouse in an emergency was deemed unacceptable. Since the state was immovable on this issue, the Christian Association of Jehovah’s Witnesses in Bulgaria had to ask for a special dispensation from New York so that Bulgarian witnesses could have blood transfusions if necessary. As a result, the Watchtower Society had two official policies on blood transfusion, one for Bulgaria and one for the rest of the world.4 Eight years later in early 2006, two teenagers decided that their faith required them to wear headscarves to the Karl Marx Professional High School for Economics in southern Bulgaria. Their principal told them they were in violation of the school’s uniform policy and that they must remove the headscarves. The girls had been studying the Qur’an with a group of young

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Bulgarian Muslims who had studied the religion abroad in Jordan; they had returned to Bulgaria to bring Muslims in the country back on to the ‘true’ path of Islam by promoting a more scriptural interpretation of their religion. Although Islam had been present in Bulgaria for over five centuries, in 2006 few Muslim women wore the headscarf. But the young Bulgarians who had studied in Jordan believed that the headscarf was mandatory for all Muslim women. They founded a nongovernmental organisation (NGO) in order to protect the rights of Muslims seeking to assert their religious rights.5 This NGO filed an official complaint with the Ministry of Education, which responded by claiming that Bulgarian education was ‘secular’; conspicuous religious symbols had no place in the classroom. The Islamic NGO then filed a complaint with a newly established national anti-discrimination commission.6 They claimed the girls’ constitutionally guaranteed human right to freedom of religion had been violated, but once again the government ruled that religious symbols were not allowed in schools and that the Islamic requirement that women wear headscarves amounted to a gender inequality because there was no similar dress requirements imposed on men.7 Interestingly, the Chief Mufti of all Bulgarian Muslims (the highest spiritual authority) did not support the Islamic NGO’s case against the state. Subsequently, a verbal order from the Ministry of Education forbade the wearing of headscarves in public schools.8 Both of these cases precipitated intense criticism of the Bulgarian government by national and international human rights activists and both cases were taken as evidence of Bulgarian restrictions on religious freedoms in the annual US Religious Freedom Reports for Bulgaria.9 Furthermore, recent critical scholarship on Western secularism might view the blood transfusion and headscarf cases in Bulgaria as evidence of a coercive secular state trying to relegate religion to the private sphere, and privileging a concept of religion that prioritises faith over practice.10 Bulgaria is just one of several Orthodox Christian countries such as Romania, Greece and Moldova that have been accused of religious intolerance by the United States because of their direct state regulation of religion and their relative suspicion of new religions (like the Jehovah’s Witnesses) or new interpretations of old religions (like more ‘orthodox’ forms of Islam). In this chapter, I will take the specific example of Bulgaria to examine the history and nature of secularism and religious rights outside the Western and post-colonial contexts. My goal is to try to pull apart assumptions about how concepts like ‘tolerance’, ‘modernity’ and ‘religion’ are defined. Outside of the context of liberalism, ‘secularism’ may mean something very different. Western histories of secularism are diverse and individual states have rearranged the relationship between state and church in different ways. According to scholars like the anthropologist Talal Asad the ideology of secularisation relies on an ideal configuration of these two institutions. Critiques of secularism and religious rights have reified this configuration (i.e. that secularism requires a church and state that are separate and independent of each other).

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Many of these ideologies and their critiques, however, are deeply rooted in a discursive field forged by the embrace or rejection of the epistemological legacies of the Enlightenment. But there may be important alternative configurations of these concepts that are difficult to comprehend from the Enlightenment worldview, since they are the products of societies that developed ideologies of ideal church and state relations in a much earlier historical period. The intellectual launching pad for this critical inquiry is the genealogical work of Talal Asad,11 and his call for a more historicised examination of the meaning of religion in different states. Asad has critiqued secularism as an Enlightenment-based political project that assumes a concept of religion that requires its reduction to private belief and the relegation of that belief to the private sphere. According to this critique, secularisation projects, whether externally imposed or willingly imported, inevitably privilege a Western conception of religion because they seek to subsume conceptions of religion that place an emphasis on embodied practices and rituals in the public sphere. Asad links the creation of the contemporary (hegemonic) concept of religion in post-Reformation Western Europe and emerging distinctions between the public and private sphere. He views the process of secularisation as the ‘forcible redefinition of religion as belief, and of religious belief, sentiment, and identity as personal matters that belong to the newly emerging space of private (as opposed to public) life’.12 For Asad, religion became ‘a new historical object: anchored in personal experience, expressible as belief-statements, dependent in private institutions, and practiced in one’s spare time’.13 Asad roots the production of this new understanding of religion to Christianity, and the struggles in Catholic Europe to replace faith and superstitions with science and reason in the public domain. Because of its specific Christian European roots, secularisation projects in the non-Western world are often at odds with local religious traditions where an essential component of faith is the public display of piety. Asad’s critical analysis of secularisation outside of the Christian context demonstrates how the demands of Western conceptions of church–state relations can amount to a form of ideological imperialism. This critique of secularism has become the template for recent explorations of liberalism and secularisation processes in the post-colonial context,14 but it is a critique that is based on a particular genealogy of Christianity, which does not include an examination of the Great Schism of 1054 and the Eastern Orthodox Church. I would like to argue that some histories of this ‘other’ Christianity may have very different implications for the way we theorise secularism outside of a (Western) Eurocentric context. In what follows, I want to build on Asad’s work by bringing an examination of Bulgarian Orthodoxy to bear on possible ways in which societies can end up looking rather secular without having been subjected to Western-style secularisation projects. The state’s harnessing of national religion as its own tool is a key distinction between different secularisation projects. In the Catholic West, there may

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be a fundamental tension between state and church, and thus between secularism and state religion, that operates differently in an Orthodox country like Bulgaria. Scholarly critiques of secularism must take into account the divergent histories of the Eastern Orthodox Church and the unique conception of religion produced by these histories. In Bulgaria today, religion is primarily conceived of as a container for Slavic identity, a tool for achieving and maintaining political independence and an ideological glue for the consolidation of kingdoms/empires/states. As such, religion was always entrenched in the public sphere, and was never relegated to the status of mere private belief. In fact, as we will see below, faith matters little in Bulgaria and you can be religious without having to believe in the existence of God.15 This is because religion is primarily a container for the preservation of national culture and identity rather than a moral and theological belief system that, if adopted, will result in spiritual salvation. Bulgaria’s version of secularism was neither imported nor imposed but was shaped by the nation’s own unique historical trajectory, a history that is distinct from the diverse Catholic and Protestant histories of the West. Although Bulgaria’s conception of ‘pluralism’ and ‘tolerance’ may differ significantly from similar Western liberal concepts, it may still promote a type of pluralism that works well within the Orthodox Christian context to safeguard the beliefs and practices of recognised religious minorities. This chapter is based on a decade of research and ethnographic fieldwork in Bulgaria. Although the arguments made below are largely historical and theoretical, they are based specifically on one year of fieldwork spent in the country between 2005 and 2008 for a project looking at inter-religious relations between the Bulgarian atheist/Orthodox Christian majority and its sizeable Muslim minority. In addition to living in the Bulgarian capital city of Sofia and a small Muslim city in south central Bulgaria, I conducted official and unofficial interviews with Muslim religious leaders, religious rights activists, government officials in charge of religious denominations, journalists, civil society advocates and politicians. This chapter focuses only on Bulgaria, the case that I know the best, but the idea of ‘symphonic secularism’ might apply to other post-Ottoman Orthodox Christian societies as well.

Defining ‘religion’ The historical construction of religion as a category differs in Bulgaria from the concept of religion dominant in the ideology of Western secularism because of the different trajectories of Christianity following the Great Schism in 1054 and the Eastern Orthodox tradition of symphonia. European Christianity split definitively in two when the Roman Catholics and the Eastern Orthodox Christians parted ways, dividing the Eastern Roman Empire from what was left of the Western one. One issue was the question of papal authority over temporal affairs. Rome advocated its own supreme authority over both the European kings and the Eastern patriarchs,16 but the Eastern

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Church saw its role as serving rather than ruling the Empire, a role which the church describes as symphonia, whereby the tsar has the power to appoint or dismiss the patriarch and to change or create church dogma. The centuriesold interpenetration of religion, imperial/national identity and kingdom/state sovereignty means that many post-Ottoman symphonic societies (Bulgaria, Greece, Macedonia, Serbia and arguably modern Turkey as well) arrived at a kind of secular modernity through a path unlike that taken by either Western countries or their former colonial subjects, and therefore may have a different relationship to religious pluralism than is expected of modern democratic states by countries like the United States.17 In Bulgaria, a new EU member as of January 2007, symphonia means recognition of a dominant religion as well as ongoing government regulation of religious activities. All of Bulgaria’s post-independence constitutions have given the government power to dissolve churches considered a threat to public order and national security, or who violate or compromise the rights of others, as defined and adjudicated by the state. Religion in this context is not merely a private belief but a public declaration of affiliation with historically, culturally and linguistically (but not necessarily ethnically)18 constituted groups.19 This religion is embodied within the material infrastructure of established denominations, including the houses of worship, the clergies, the holy sites, the holy texts translated into the local vernacular, the powerfully evocative iconographies of spiritual leaders, saints, prophets and God as well as the implicit or explicit dogma that subsumes the spiritual authority of the church beneath the perpetual rule of temporal leaders.20 In post-Ottoman Eastern Orthodox contexts, religion has become primarily a tool through which political figures have consolidated their power by promoting national identity through a church that instils loyalty to the state as part of its ecumenical dogma – often over ethnically or linguistically diverse populations.21 But religion is more than just the public institution that facilitates the production of national identities; it also legitimises the ultimate authority of the temporal leader over the community by producing subjects that believe that religious power and authority are equal to that of the emperor/tsar or temporal leader. A certain kind of religious pluralism may therefore be possible for religions that also act as containers for the preservation of the history and culture of the living descendants of ancient peoples, and whose theologies can accept the primacy of temporal imperatives over spiritual ones. Furthermore, even when practised solely in the private sphere, religions that challenge the authority of the state may arouse its suspicion and be subject to regulation, so that even personal belief practised in one’s spare time can be seen as a threat to national security. There is no Pope in Orthodoxy, and the Ecumenical Patriarch in Constantinople has limited power over the autocephalous Patriarchs of the national churches. If what Asad considers the Western conception of secularism requires the reduction of religion to mere personal belief and relegates it to the private sphere in order to limit

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spiritual challenges to state power, post-Ottoman symphonia maintains religion in the public realm and allows the state to actively manipulate it to ensure pluralism.22 The fascinating question here is how Balkan countries with long, historically rooted symphonic traditions, which actively continue to interfere in the spiritual matters of their populations, still arrive at a form of democracy and pluralism that is acceptably tolerant for those living within it, even if their own configurations of religion and pluralism fly in the face of American ideals of religious freedoms. The inadequacy of the framework of liberalism to interpret the compatibility of public religion and human rights has meant that Balkan Orthodox countries have increasingly been targets of criticism from the United States, with its foreign policy commitment to protect human rights and religious freedoms around the world. Indeed, religious freedoms have a long history of being deployed as a foreign policy tool against Eastern Orthodox states.

Religious freedoms and American foreign policy With the notable exception of Greece, most of the majority Eastern Orthodox countries fell on the Soviet side of the Iron Curtain. The United States has a history of promoting religious freedom as a strategy to fight communism. The best example is US support for a so-called ‘green belt’ or ‘arc of Islam’ along the southern border of the Soviet Union in order to check the expansion of communism into the Middle East and South Asia. Evangelical Christians also collaborated with the State Department in the 1980s to find ways to undermine ‘godless’ communist countries,23 because local religious populations could be used to catalyse internal dissent against communist regimes. For example, one very successful foreign policy use of religious rights came in the form of the Jackson–Vanik Amendment to the Trade Act of 1974, a piece of legislation aimed at supporting the emigration of religious minorities in the USSR.24 Although the legislation was aimed at the Soviets, it was expanded to include all ‘non-market economies’ that restricted the freedom of emigration for its religious minorities. As one supporter of the amendment retrospectively explained: If we focused on the Soviet Union, we knew it would have a ripple effect on the issue of immigration from Romania, as in fact, it did. And several other countries then in the Communist orbit, where it also had a positive impact. It is true, the Soviet Union was the big gorilla, but the smaller chimpanzees around responded.25 The key idea of the Jackson–Vanik Amendment was that the United States government could withhold Most-Favoured Nation (MFN) status and impose other trade restrictions on non-market (i.e. communist) economies that persecuted or unfairly treated religious minorities, particularly with regard to

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their ability to emigrate from a state hostile to their faith. The significance of Jackson–Vanik, called ‘the most important human rights legislation ever passed by the US Congress’,26 as a foreign policy tool was that it seemingly gave Washington a moral high ground from which to attack the communists. Rather than using overt military force or supporting covert operations, Jackson–Vanik shifted the basis of American anti-communist policy, allowing the United States to mobilise ‘fundamental American values’ and respect for religious freedoms to undermine the international credibility of the Soviet Union. With Jackson–Vanik, the US government attempted to refashion itself from a capitalist/imperialist bully to a moral crusader for human dignity and the freedom of conscience. It was the moral and political success of Jackson–Vanik that the drafters of the ‘Freedom from Religious Persecution Act of 1997’ hoped to replicate in their bill, which focused initially on the persecution of Christians. One of the bill’s co-sponsors, Frank R. Wolf, told Congress, ‘Jackson–Vanik was the movement that crystallised concern in the 1980s on behalf of those suffering persecution in the Soviet Union. This bill will be its counterpart for the 1990s.’27 The original House version, the Wolf–Specter Bill, imposed annual public condemnations and the imposition of automatic sanctions against any country found to be engaging in religious persecution, very broadly defined. The 1997 bill championed Roman Catholics and Evangelical Protestants in the remaining communist countries, viewing Christians as the torchbearers for democracy.28 One representative of the Southern Baptist Convention testified before Congress that: The American campaign on behalf of Soviet Jews helped to seal the fate of Soviet repression in its far flung empire …. Christians are threats to antidemocratic forces which oppose modernity, and if the Western secular elites do not understand this, make no mistake, the Chinese, Vietnamese and Cuban commissars and the Islamic ayatollahs do.29 But the bill met with stiff resistance both in the House and then in its revised form as the International Religious Freedoms Act of 1997 and 1998 (IRFA) in the Senate. The Clinton Administration was strongly opposed to both bills, believing that they duplicated existing legislation, and that they would unnecessarily force the USA to alienate key allies, such as Saudi Arabia and Germany.30 The Christian Coalition made the bill’s passage its top priority, and the legislation was seen by many as the Republican Party’s conservative Christian base trying to flex its muscles in the arena of foreign policy.31 This perception was strengthened by the public language used by its sponsors: ‘This country has been blessed by God. We have to be faithful to our fundamental values of liberty … We need to put back some morality in foreign policy.’32 After many compromises, the Senate version of the bill finally passed in 1998, making religious freedom a cornerstone of American foreign policy.

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US embassies around the world were made responsible for annual contributions to an International Religious Freedoms Report, which would cover 194 counties. The act also created a special commission and a new Ambassadorat-Large for Religious Freedom who would make suggestions for appropriate actions against ‘countries of concern’. The IRFA was a new unilateral foreign policy that gave the USA moral authority to collect information on its allies as well as its enemies in the name of supporting a ‘natural, fundamental’ right. From the outset, the government had a list of countries that it wanted to target, including China and Russia. Russia once again played the role of ‘big gorilla’. The first annual report prepared by the new US Commission on International Religious Freedom focused on Russia because it was ‘a litmus test for all the other newly independent countries that have sprung up in Central Asia and throughout Eastern Europe after the collapse of the Soviet Empire’.33 The first Reports on Religious Freedom from Eastern Europe were full of complaints about both government and private harassment of Jehovah’s Witnesses, Mormons, Seventh-day Adventists, Pentecostals, Southern Baptists and Scientologists among others.34 Many Eastern European countries were not prepared to accept a liberal understanding of religious freedoms despite their heavy dependence on American foreign aid. This reluctance to embrace the spiritual liberalisation that was being aggressively promoted by the American government was partially due to suspicions that the Americans were once again using support for religious ‘freedoms’ as tools to promote foreign policy interests or to destabilise enemy states. Here, I focus on Bulgaria and how these fears also overlapped with a unique historical construction of the epistemic category of religion that was anathema to the American ideal of a liberalised market for faith.

State and church in Bulgarian history In order to understand why the American government’s conception of human rights and liberal notions of religious pluralism have so little critical purchase in the Bulgarian context, it is instructive to look briefly at local understandings of the centuries-long marriage between the Bulgarian state and the Orthodox Church.35 Before I do this, however, it is important to emphasise that I am not trying to claim a direct historical link between 1054 and the present day, but rather to examine what happened in between these points in time and to unpack the ways in which contemporary Bulgarians perceive the linkage between their medieval past and the present day. This task is complicated immensely by the selective approach of much Bulgarian historiography and the fact that ‘Balkan historians tend to present their people’s past in a vacuum and often disregard the dominating Ottoman influence’.36 In what follows, I recognise that the ‘facts’ of Bulgarian history and the history of the important role of the Bulgarian Orthodox Church

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(BOC) and the Ottoman millet system are still hotly contested. Indeed, much of what is accepted as history today was consciously constructed during the Bulgarian Revival period in the late nineteenth century as the country was trying to extricate itself from a declining Ottoman Empire and stake a claim to its own independence,37 or by Bulgarian historians during the communist era,38 who were deliberately trying to construct closer historical ties with the Slavic Orthodox Russians.39 Despite this caveat, what is important for the purposes of this chapter is what most contemporary Bulgarians believe to be the history of their state and church, even if the production of this history was and continues to be informed by specific nationalist ideologies. For example, Bulgarians are taught a history that locates the founding of the nascent Bulgarian Kingdom in the Balkans with Khan Asparoukh’s defeat of the Byzantine army in 680 CE. A popular illustrated history textbook, Rulers of Bulgaria: Khans, Tsars, and Statesmen,40 actually presents a view of Bulgarian history that directly links Khan Asparoukh to Georgi Parvanov, the President of Bulgaria in 2008, with a fascinating 500 year leap between Tsar Ivan Sratsimir in 1396 and Prince Alexander I in 1879. The text, which had already gone into four editions by 2003 and was written by two of Bulgaria’s best-known professors of history at the country’s most prestigious university, links the post-Ottoman and pre-Ottoman leaders of Bulgaria together by merely stating: ‘During five centuries of slavery, the Bulgarians cherished the memory of their regal medieval rulers.’41 In this popular view of Bulgarian history, the country merely ceased to exist for 500 years and nothing that happened during that era of ‘slavery’ can be legitimately included as part of the country’s own past, despite the fact that some historians have shown that many Bulgarians actually prospered during the Ottoman era,42 and that the Ottoman millet system did much to preserve Byzantine symphonia for its Christian subjects.43 This linking between the medieval past and present-day nation-states is common among former Ottoman territories in the Balkans, and even scholars based in the USA recognise that there is an important national mythologising of the importance of the church: With the political power once vested in temporal rulers gone, the church assumed some of the ‘Caesar’s’ prerogatives and incidentally maintained a link between each nation’s past and future. The church conserved the cultural heritage of particular peoples, kept fresh in their minds their medieval glory and independence, and preserved the ethnic individuality of the faithful.44 For most Bulgarians today, the construction of religion as an epistemic category is intimately linked with state sovereignty and an independent Slavic identity since the Bulgarian Tsar Boris I officially adopted Christianity in 865 CE.45

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According to Bulgarian historians, the first Bulgarian state was formally recognised in a treaty with the Byzantines in 681 CE; it was a loose confederation of Central Asian Bulgars and local Slavic tribes.46 In order to bring cohesion and legitimacy to the rapidly expanding Bulgarian state in a world dominated by Christianity, Boris I officially adopted the religion in a strategic move to consolidate his power by getting recognition from the Patriarch in Constantinople and the Pope in Rome. At that time, Christendom was governed by five autocephalous patriarchates based in Constantinople, Rome, Antioch, Alexandria and Jerusalem. The rise of Islam, however, had compromised the power and influence of the Patriarchs in Asia, and there were increasing tensions between the two European ecclesiastical authorities. Boris I successfully played the developing rivalry between Constantinople and Rome to his advantage, and in 870 CE, the Eastern Patriarch granted Boris I an autonomous archbishop subject to Constantinople’s authority.47 Bulgarians today are very familiar with their own story of how a unique Bulgarian identity was forged in opposition to the Greek dominance of the Orthodox Church through the creation of the Slavic alphabet, and the feast of Sts Kiril and Methodios, the creators of this alphabet, is still a national holiday. A widely held view is that the Greek liturgy and the Byzantine clergy undermined Boris I in his project to consolidate his growing Kingdom, and he aggressively pursued the ‘Bulgarisation/Slavicisation’ of Christianity in his territories. Using the Cyrillic alphabet, a liturgy based on the Slavic vernacular was prepared. Boris sponsored the formation of a new Bulgarian clergy schooled in this new alphabet and liturgy. In 893, he expelled all of the Greek clergy, and the Bulgarian vernacular replaced Greek as the official church (and therefore state) language.48 In 927, the Byzantines gave the Bulgarian Church full autocephalous status, making it the first autocephalous patriarchate after the original Pentarchy, and the first Slavic Church – a full 300 years before the Serbian autocephaly and 600 years before the Russian autocephaly.49 Boris I supposedly believed that full autocephaly made Bulgaria an equal of both Byzantium and Rome, and that his power, authority and legitimacy was intimately bound up with having his own independent church and a clergy firmly under his control.50 This relationship between the church and the state would be one of the defining conflicts between Constantinople and Rome, ultimately leading to the Great Schism of 1054. The Byzantines (and the Bulgarians) embraced a political and ecumenical philosophy called symphonia, which later came to be known pejoratively as caesaro-papism (which literally means ‘king-priest’), whereby the secular power of the state is equal to, if not greater than, the spiritual authority of the Church, especially with regard to temporal affairs.51 In Bulgaria, the Patriarch (the highest authority in the Church) was always subject to the authority of the Tsar who chose him. In Western Christendom, Rome espoused the doctrine of ultramontanism,52 whereby the spiritual authority of the Pope took precedence over that of all temporal kings. Because the Roman pope tried to assert his authority over the four Eastern

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patriarchates, the latter broke away, taking the fledgling Bulgarian Church with them. But subsequent Tsars would continue to manipulate both Pope and Patriarch, briefly embracing Catholicism whenever Constantinople tried to re-Hellenise the Bulgarian Church. Gaining or maintaining the autocephalous status of the Bulgarian Patriarchate was a primary goal for all Tsars before the Kingdom became part of the Ottoman Empire. Some scholars have demonstrated that the Ottomans adopted many aspects of Byzantine political culture, particularly with regard to the former Byzantine subjects, which subsequently fell under Ottoman rule. There is certainly evidence of symphonia in the Ottoman millet system whereby each confessional community was subject to the autonomous temporal rule of an ‘ethnarch’ or denominational leader,53 thereby preserving and reinforcing the symphonic traditions of the Balkan Orthodox populations. There were four officially recognised millets: Muslim, Christian, Jewish and Armenian. Members of the Muslim millet had the highest status in society and enjoyed many privileges, but the other millets were tolerated and the ethnarchs were given considerable power over their respective communities.54 Under this system, the autocephalous status of the Bulgarian Patriarch was abolished and the Bulgarian Christians were once again subject to Greek rule under the Patriarch of Constantinople.55 Although some Bulgarians did convert to Islam, the majority retained their Christian faith.56 It was during the Ottoman period that the Bulgarian churches supposedly became the most important repositories of Bulgarian learning, language and literature. Bulgarians today are taught to believe that Orthodox monks preserved the Bulgarian culture and provided political leadership to the Bulgarian Christians despite their subjugation to the Patriarch in Constantinople. When the Patriarch tried to Hellenise the Bulgarians by reintroducing a Greek liturgy, the Bulgarian clergy played an even more important role as linguistic dissidents, continuing to perform services in the Slavic language.57 When the Russians helped to liberate the Bulgarian state in 1878, local nationalists valorised the monks who had advocated for the independence of the Bulgarian Orthodox Church, the first step toward political independence.58 Between 1878 and 1945, being a Bulgarian became even more strongly associated with being a Bulgarian Orthodox Christian. Unlike the Bolsheviks in the Soviet Union, the Bulgarian communists were far more tolerant of religious institutions. When it came to full power in 1946, the Bulgarian communist government recognised the importance of the historic importance of the Bulgarian Orthodox Church, and despite its commitment to a Marxistinformed policy of state atheism, the communist government did not abolish the Church.59 Communism and its version of centralised statecraft fitted in well with the pre-existing model of symphonic relations between state and church. The Bulgarian communists forced the BOC to cooperate with the state-building project.60 Religious publications carried articles such as: ‘Long Live the Task of the Great Stalin’ and ‘Socialism: the Eternal Ideal of

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Humanity’.61 Orthodox churches were considered national monuments celebrating Bulgaria’s long history as an independent state, the link that connected the modern state with its medieval past. Thus, most Bulgarians believe that for well over a thousand years, the Bulgarian state in one form or another has been intertwined with the BOC in a symphonic relationship of natural secular authority over the organisation of spiritual affairs. It may be that these beliefs about the historical divergence between the doctrines of Eastern Orthodox symphonia and the idea of papal supremacy in the Roman Catholic countries continue to inform different ideas about religion and religious pluralism in different parts of Europe today. And these different understandings may fundamentally underlie local attitudes toward the American government’s concept of religious human rights. Similarly, these cultural beliefs may shape the way Orthodox states think about headscarves in public schools or the right of Jehovah’s Witnesses to refuse blood transfusions to their children.

Symphonic secularisms Although the history of secularisation in Western Christianity is varied and complicated, Talal Asad discusses a few key processes.62 In general, he argues that secularism in Western Europe grew out of the Protestant Reformation and the need to extricate the state from the authority of Rome. Relegating belief to the private sphere was necessary in order to create subjects and citizens who accepted the authority of their temporal leaders over that of the long-established authority of the Pope and the local clergy. Secularisation in the West often required force, because kings were usurping the power of an entrenched ecclesiastical establishment whose loyalties had generally been to Rome. Monarchs and republican leaders also had to convince religious populations to accept the authority of a temporal leader or government that did not derive legitimacy from God, and to accept reason as the guiding principle of society rather than faith. If we look to the Eastern Orthodox countries in the Balkans, the picture is quite different. There the Church never had any form of authority over the Tsar, and indeed the roots of the Great Schism of 1054 revolved around this very issue. Eastern Christian populations did not have to be convinced to accept the authority of a Tsar over that of a Patriarch, and the clergy accepted that temporal affairs were the unique realm of the temporal leaders (i.e. ‘render unto Caesar the things which are Caesar’s, and unto God the things which are God’s’ – Matthew 22:21). Even in matters of dogma, the Emperor could convene ecumenical councils and negotiate for changes if he deemed those changes strategically useful.63 Similarly, in the Ottoman Empire, the Sultan or Caliph could appoint and dismiss both Muslim religious leaders and ethnarchs at will. From the Western perspective, symphonia has historically been frowned upon as a pejoratively Byzantine form of government.64 In his 1689 A Letter

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Concerning Toleration John Locke condemned state interference in church dogma, comparing Henry VIII and his self-serving heirs in England to the Orthodox emperors in the East.65 The complete separation of state and church was seen as a fundamental condition for enlightened rational governance, and this assumption has underpinned the idea that Western-style secularism is an essential component of modernity. The lack of separation of these two institutions was taken as a sign of Eastern Orthodoxy’s and Ottoman Islam’s backwardness.66 In fact, a very common perception is that symphonia justifies and produces autocracy, limiting the possibility of democratic rule. Samuel Huntington’s Clash of Civilizations relegates the entire Eastern Orthodox world to the status of a completely separate civilisation from the West because the East did not benefit from ‘the separation and the recurrent clashes between Church and State’,67 an interesting proposition given that Orthodox Greece, Bulgaria and Romania are now all members of the European Union, a decidedly secular and modern political and economic project. While countries like Bulgaria and Greece may be wrong to call themselves ‘secular’, we may not have the theoretical language to describe what exactly they are. By many criteria Bulgarian society today displays the characteristics of something that looks and acts a lot like Western secularism, despite the fact that religion has not been reduced to private belief, and the state is still directly involved in spiritual affairs. For instance, in 2006, Bulgaria ranked seventeenth among the fifty most atheist countries in the world.68 The study found that 34–40 per cent of the Bulgarian population was atheist, agnostic or non-religious, similar to patterns found in Western Europe.69 A November 1998 study asked a national representative sample of Bulgarians: ‘Would you like your child/grandchild to be religious?’70 Only 13.7 per cent of respondents wanted their children to regularly attend ‘church/mosque/synagogue’. Yet 52.4 per cent of Bulgarian Christians and 52 per cent of Turks living in Bulgaria said that they wanted their children to be religious ‘just as a cultural identity’.71 Another nationally representative survey conducted in 1999 found that 96 per cent of ethnic Bulgarians said that they were Christians and 98 per cent of the Turkish minority declared themselves Muslim. Of the Christians, 86 per cent defined themselves as Bulgarian Orthodox.72 Only 10 per cent of those who declared themselves Orthodox, however, said that they followed the prescriptions of the Church, with 49.3 per cent claiming that they were religious ‘in their own way’.73 The survey also found that 30.5 per cent of the population never attends church, synagogue or mosque, with the same percentage saying that they only go on the big religious holidays once or twice a year. Of those who declared themselves to be ‘Christians’, 24.4 per cent also stated explicitly that they were not religious, and 12.3 per cent of those who declared themselves to be Bulgarian Orthodox also said that they did not believe in God. My own extensive fieldwork in the country confirms this conception of religion. In a conversation with one Slavic Muslim in Madan in 2006, I was told: ‘I am a Muslim because my grandfather was a Muslim and I was given a

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Muslim name. My father was an atheist and I am an atheist. I am a Muslim, but I do not believe in God.’ Similarly, I have had ethnic Bulgarians proclaim that all ‘Bulgarians’ must be Orthodox Christians ‘whether they believe in God or not’. Furthermore, the equation of religion with ethnonational identity has made the question of apostasy or conversion a sensitive one. To change religions in Bulgaria is to change ethnic identification. The Deputy Chief Mufti of all Bulgarian Muslims explained to me, ‘When a Turk converts to Christianity, we do not say that he became a Christian, we say that he became a Bulgarian [stana Bulgarin].’ Evangelical Christians have also been warned that Bulgarians ‘equate being Orthodox with being Bulgarian. Proselytism, then, is seen not only as a spiritual concern of the clerics but as an attack on national identity.’74 Church of the Nazarene missionaries who worked in the country observed that: [M]any Bulgarians seem unaware that vital Christianity can be authentically Bulgarian. Tragically, some believed the demonic lie that authentic [Nazarene] Christianity would hurt the fabric of Bulgarian society. Today, this makes Bulgaria according to many observers among the globe’s most difficult countries to evangelize.75 During my fieldwork with Pomaks in the Rhodopi Mountains, I found that there, too, religion was the primary marker used by the Pomaks to distinguish themselves from their Christian neighbours. Ethnic Bulgarian Christians in mixed Christian–Muslim villages and cities called themselves ‘Bulgarians’, while ethnic Bulgarian Muslims simply called themselves ‘Muslims’. Occasionally, a Pomak would protest this usage and claim that they were ‘Bulgarians’ too. In one case, a younger Pomak woman defended her terminology by saying: ‘We are all Bulgarian citizens [Bulgarski grazhdani]. But we are not Bulgarians because we are not Christians.’ Furthermore, the majority of Bulgaria’s Muslims (whether Turkish, Pomak or Romani) have traditionally shared the symphonic conception of religion, similar as it is to the Ottoman millet system. It is only members of new Muslim groups, such as the young Muslims returning from Jordan, who believe that spiritual matters should be separate from and take precedence over temporal affairs. In an interview with the leader of the Islamic NGO that filed the headscarf complaint, I was told that ‘Turkish’ Islam was an incorrect version of the religion. ‘During the Ottoman centuries’, he said, ‘Islam came to Bulgaria in a time of blood. The Turks did not fight for God. They fought for the Sultan. Now is a time of peace and we must embrace the true Islam.’ Similarly, the regional Mufti of Smolyan explained that it was the young Pomaks who cared about defending women’s right to wear the headscarf because ‘Turkish women do not wear it … The Turks are not religious Muslims. They are ethnic Muslims.’ Because religious conversion has such heavy personal and political implications, most Bulgarians are very respectful and tolerant of the old religions:

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Catholicism, Judaism and Islam. The government even theoretically provides funds to support the upkeep of synagogues, mosques and Catholic churches, although the majority of the support for these denominations comes from abroad. Most Bulgarians respect these religions because they are seen as the repositories for the culture of these communities, and although Bulgarians have always feared the irredentist ambitions of Turkey (especially after the partition of Cyprus in 1974), even Islam is embraced as an integral part of society. Despite latent Islamophobia and a deep-seated hatred toward the Ottoman past, the post-1989 era did not see violent ethno-religious confrontations, nor was there a renewed persecution of the Turkish minority.76 The Bulgarian state and many of its citizens are less tolerant, however, of new religions such as the Jehovah’s Witnesses that have appeared since 1989. First of all, they are not seen as being rooted in a particular culture, and therefore lack the essential quality of a religion to be the vessel that preserves the past for the living descendants of ancient peoples. If the new religions are associated with a culture, it is generally with the United States, a culture that is foreign, and one that inspires much suspicion given the USA’s aggressive use of religion as a foreign policy tool in the past. Indeed, the International Religious Freedom Reports for the country verify that the Bulgarians are tolerant toward the established religions, and only persecute new religions or newer, more fundamentalist movements within the established ones. In particular, Bulgaria has been singled out for harassing members of the Unification Church, the Word of Life Church, the Jehovah’s Witnesses, the Mormons and Muslim groups that are considered to be heretical (such as the Ahmadis) or radical (such as the Salafis). What unites these disparate groups beyond their newness is the fact that many claim a supranational community of believers and support a doctrine wherein their religion is not rooted in any one nation or culture, but supersedes culture and attempts to unite this global community of the faithful under one religious authority. In these cases, obedience to religious authorities (such as the Watchtower Society in New York or the LDS church headquarters in Salt Lake City) or to God directly (such as is Olivier Roy’s concept of de-ethnicised ‘Globalised Islam’)77 is supposed to trump devotion to the nation-state. This can be viewed as a return to a form of ultramontanism that many Bulgarians believe to be at odds with their own millennium-old symphonic tradition. Bulgarians may be deeply suspicious of any faith that places religious authority above the interests of the state, and may always have a tendency to view these religions as literal threats to national security and public interests.

The discourse of ‘religious rights’ in Bulgaria Asad’s critique of the Western bias inherent in secularisation is best demonstrated by the United States’ insistence on the separation of church and state in the Eastern Orthodox context. Indeed, the American government

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often views direct state interference in the spiritual affairs of its citizens as a violation of religious rights and continues to paint Orthodox countries like Greece, Romania and Bulgaria as intolerant. In Bulgaria, an example of this disjuncture, particularly in regard to varying cultural definitions of ‘religion’, occurred between 1999 and 2002 during the debates that preceded the passage of the new law on religion, the Denominations Act of 2002.78 This law went through multiple drafts, and was the subject of much controversy. It placed numerous restrictions on religious freedoms and gave the state continued powers to regulate, police and even dissolve religious groups at its own discretion, while at the same time solidifying the position of the Bulgarian Orthodox Church. The US diplomatic mission in Bulgaria actively lobbied Parliament against the various drafts of the law. The American government managed to delay voting on the legislation during one session of Parliament by requesting that it be sent out for review by the Council of Europe while they continued to organise opposition by local religious groups and human rights organisations.79 The US mission either directly or indirectly supported public protests and official statements against the law signed by representatives of ‘new’ religions in Bulgaria. When the law was finally passed, the American embassy flexed its diplomatic muscle to put pressure on the Bulgarian President to veto the bill,80 which he ultimately refused to do. Another misunderstanding arose from the American application of IRFA in Bulgaria when the Americans considered the privileged position of the Bulgarian Orthodox Church a restriction on religious freedom in the country despite the fact that legal critiques of IRFA published in the United States have specifically pointed out that Washington should understand the history of Orthodoxy in Russia and Greece before demanding religious reforms that definitively separate church and state. Furthermore, public statements made by Orthodox priests claiming that the American evangelical Protestant groups were ‘foreign influences’ trying to undermine Bulgarian identity were similarly seen as evidence of intolerance without regard for the realities of America’s own past foreign policies that employed religion as a tool to undermine communism in this part of the world or the political underpinnings of IRFA. In the American context, religion has historically been a belief held privately outside of the public sphere, with little direct state regulation. The freedom of this type of private religion is rarely a threat to temporal authorities since it makes no demands on the state, and therefore belief can be as free as capital, flowing in and out of wherever it wants in search of higher and higher material or spiritual returns. Certainly, in the Bulgarian context market liberalisation and spiritual liberalisation seemed to go hand in hand as Americansupported reforms aimed at limiting the powers of the postcommunist state to regulate either the economy or the realm of faith. Although the Bulgarians did liberalise and privatise much of their economy, the state has retained a strong hold over religions. Although Bulgaria has yet to be listed as an official ‘country of concern’ under IRFA, IRFA reports for Bulgaria continue to report violations of religious rights in Bulgaria on a yearly basis.81

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Conclusion On 27 July 2006, the Bulgarian Anti-Discrimination Commission found in favour of the Ministry of Education, and effectively banned headscarves in Bulgarian public schools. Public opinion was solidly behind the decision, and a subsequent headscarf case at a medical university also ended in a ban on religious symbols using the high school case as a precedent. The AntiDiscrimination Commission relied on two key arguments in its written decision. The first was that Bulgarian education was ‘secular’ and the second was that the state had a duty to protect the rights of women.82 The decision cited two paragraphs from an EU resolution which stated that EU member countries ‘must not agree to justify discrimination and inequality affecting women on grounds such as physical or biological differentiation based on or attributed to religion’.83 Although there was little evidence that the headscarf actually violated women’s rights, claiming that the state acted in order to protect Muslim women was a discursive move that allowed the state to reassert its authority over spiritual affairs in order to protect the public interest. Similarly, the Bulgarian government refused to register the Jehovah’s Witnesses in the 1990s because it claimed that it was protecting children, yet another instance of the state stepping in to protect the rights of supposedly vulnerable citizens. From the Bulgarian point of view, this is not religious intolerance. Instead, these prohibitions are directed at an idea of religion that places religious authority over the authority of the nation-state and its selfassigned duty to uphold women’s rights and protect children. Claims that Islam mandates girls to wear headscarves in schools or that Witnesses are not allowed to receive blood transfusions because the Watchtower Society in New York forbids it, implicitly assume that religious authorities (of whatever kind) take precedence over state commitments, and therefore public accommodation must be made for those who place their loyalties in spiritual rather than temporal powers. This position is foreign, suspicious and considered dangerous to a Bulgarian society that imagines that it has never allowed religion to take precedence over state interests, and that even small accommodations like allowing headscarves in schools will lead to greater and greater demands for religious (and ultimately political) autonomy. Thus, while the state’s commitments to women and children were ostensibly the issues, what was really at stake in these cases was the very definition of religion, the maintenance of a public national identity and the state’s ability to regulate its own internal affairs in the face of American policies that would liberalise faith and reify religious freedoms to force a separation of church and state in order to protect the rights of Jehovah’s Witnesses and new Muslim groups alike. Interestingly, Western European countries also seem to be leaning toward more regulation of religious freedoms, and not only of Muslims, but also of new American faiths such as Scientology. But the form of secularism espoused in Western Europe is qualitatively different and arose from a very different historical trajectory than the ‘secularism’ in the post-Ottoman Eastern

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Orthodox world. In Western Christendom, religion has been ideologically constructed as a private matter that must not interfere with the workings of the public sphere, whereas in Eastern Christendom, religion never ceased to be part of the public sphere. Despite their established state religions and the continued regulation of religion within their borders, it should be recognised that some Orthodox societies have achieved a relatively fair amount of tolerance and pluralism. In conclusion, there is little separation of state and church in Bulgaria and the government still actively regulates religious activities. The remarkable fact that the Bulgarian state refers to itself as ‘secular’ suggests that the term may operate differently there and in the United States or Western Europe. Certainly, Bulgaria shares many characteristics with its secular Western European counterparts: high levels of atheism, low levels of church attendance and a historical respect for religious pluralism. This supports the idea that there may be multiple paths to something called ‘secularism’, and that a country with a long history of symphony between the state and church can still arrive at a tolerant enough form of democratic government to be welcomed into modern political alliances such as the European Union and NATO. It is important to recognise that this ‘secularism’ developed independently of the Enlightenment-based forms of Western secularism that emerged after the Protestant Reformation and that has been universalised as a foundational requirement of modernity and liberal democracy in the world today. I am not trying to hold the post-Ottoman Orthodox version of symphonic ‘secularism’ up as a kind of ideal, but rather I am hoping to show how religious rights are locally defined and sometimes deployed as a discursive strategy by Western powers in their pursuit of specific foreign policy goals. This case should allow us to see the limitations of Western concepts that normatively privilege the liberal discourse of religious rights as progressive, and ignore different trajectories and ways of understanding ‘religious freedom’, ‘pluralism’, ‘tolerance’ and, ultimately, ‘democracy’.

Notes 1 Talal Asad, ‘Response to Chaterjee’, in David Scott and Charles Hirschkind (eds), Powers of the Secular Modern: Talal Asad and His Interlocutors, Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 2006. 2 ‘Watchtower: The Official Site of the Jehovah’s Witnesses’, http://www.watchtower. org (accessed 16 April 2007). 3 European Court of Human Rights, Kristiansko Sdruzhenie ‘Svedeteli na Iehova’ [Christian Association Jehovah’s Witnesses] v. Bulgaria, Application No. 28626/95, Report of the Commission, 9 March 1998. 4 ‘The Bulgarian Files’ from the website of Associated Jehovah’s Witnesses for Reform on Blood, http://www.ajwrb.org/bulgaria/index.shtml (accessed 16 April 2007). 5 The name of the organisation was the Union for Islamic Development and Culture (UIDC). For further details, see: Kristen Ghodsee, Muslim Lives in Eastern Europe: Gender, Ethnicity and the Transformation of Islam in Postsocialist Bulgaria, Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2010.

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6 State Gazette, Law on the Protection Against Discrimination, State Gazette (86), 30 September, 2003. 7 Commission for Protection against Discrimination, Reshenie [Decision] No. 37, Sofia, 27 July 2006. 8 Author’s interview with Krassimir Kanev, President of the Bulgarian Helsinski Committee, June 2006 in Sofia, Bulgaria. 9 US Department of State, International Religious Freedom Report 2006, Bulgaria, available at http://www.state.gov/g/drl/rls/irf/2006/71373.htm (accessed 22 September 2007); US Department of State, International Religious Freedom Report 2003, Bulgaria, available at http://www.state.gov/g/drl/rls/irf/2003/24348. htm (accessed 22 February 2007). Also see reports for the years 2001, 2002, 2004, 2005 and 2006. 10 Asad, ‘Response to Chaterjee’; Talal Asad, Formations of the Secular: Christianity, Islam and Modernity, Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 2003; Talal Asad, Genealogies of Religion, Baltimore, MD: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1993; Saba Mahmood, The Politics of Piety: The Islamic Revival and the Feminist Subject, Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2006. 11 Asad, Genealogies of Religion; Asad, Formations of the Secular. 12 Asad, Formations of the Secular, p. 207. 13 Ibid., p. 207. 14 In Mahmood’s rich study of the women’s mosque movement in Egypt, she demonstrates how Western preoccupations with liberalism, self-hood, and agency mask the ways in which embodied religious practices can result in self-actualization for women. Mahmood, The Politics of Piety. 15 Peter Petkoff, ‘Church–State Relations under the Bulgarian Denominations Act 2002: Religious Pluralism and Established Church and the Impact of Other Models of Law on Religion’, Religion, State and Society, 33 (4), 315–37. 16 Steven Runciman, The Eastern Schism: A Study of the Papacy and the Eastern Churches during the Eleventh and Twelfth Centuries, Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1955. 17 For instance, the Greek and Bulgarian constitutions explicitly state that: ‘The prevailing religion in Greece is that of the Eastern Orthodox Church of Christ’ (Constitution of Greece 2008) and that ‘Eastern Orthodox Christianity shall be considered the traditional religion in the Republic of Bulgaria’ (Constitution of Bulgaria 2008). 18 Ethnicity can be forgiven by conversion to the dominant denomination. 19 Thanks to Joan Scott for pointing out that the Church of England works in a similar way. 20 Steven Runciman, The Orthodox Churches and the Secular State, Auckland: Auckland University Press, 1971. 21 Theodore Papadolpoullos, ‘Orthodox Church and Civil Authority’, Journal of Contemporary History, 1967, 2 (4), 201–9; Emil Cohen, ‘Religious Freedom in Bulgaria’, Journal of Ecumenical Studies, 1999, 36 (1/2), p. 243; Adamantia Pollis, ‘Eastern Orthodoxy and Human Rights’, Human Rights Quarterly, 1993, 15 (2), 339–56; Ion Bria, ‘Evangelism, Proselytism, and Religious Freedom in Romania: An Orthodox Point of View’, Journal of Ecumenical Studies, 1999, 36 (1/2), p. 163. 22 John Witte Jr, ‘Introduction: Pluralism, Proselytism, and Nationalism in Eastern Europe’, Journal of Ecumenical Studies, 1999, 36 (1/2), 1–6; Nikolas K. Gvosdev, Emperors and Elections: Reconciling the Orthodox Tradition with Modern Politics, Huntington, NY: Troitsa Books, 2000; Bria, ‘Evangelism, Proselytism, and Religious Freedom’, p. 163. 23 Stephen A. Kent, ‘The French and German versus American Debate over “New Religions”, Scientology, and Human Rights’, Marburg Journal of Religion, 2000, 6 (1), http://www.uni-marburg.de/fb03/ivk/mjr/pdfs/2001/articles/kent2001.pdf.

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24 Vladimir Pregelj, ‘The Jackson–Vanik Amendment: A Survey’, CRS Report for Congress, 1 August 2005, available at http://www.fas.org/sgp/crs/row/98–545.pdf (accessed 31 January 2007). 25 House of Representatives, Freedom from Religious Persecution Act of 1997, Part 1 – Administration witnesses, Hearing before the Committee on International Relations, House of Representatives, 105th Congress, First Session, 9 September 1997, Washington, DC: US GPO. 26 Arlene Kurtis, ‘The Jackson–Vanik Amendment: The Back Story’, Midstream, 2005, 51 (5), 24–9. 27 House of Representatives, Freedom from Religious Persecution Act of 1997, Part 1. 28 Ibid. 29 Richard Land, Testimony of Dr Richard Land (President, Ethics and Religious Liberty Commission, Southern Baptist Convention), S. 1868: The International Religious Freedom Act of 1998, Hearings before the Committee on Foreign Relations, United States Senate, 105th Congress Second Session, 12 May and 17 June 1998. Washington, DC: US GPO, p. 42. 30 The Americans opposed the German government’s refusal to recognise Scientology as an official religion. 31 Donna Cassata, ‘Congress Enters Uncharted Territory with Bill on Religious Persecution’, CQ Weekly, 13 September 1997, p. 2121. 32 Frank Wolf, quoted in Mile A. Pomper, ‘The Religious Right’s Foreign Policy Revival’, CQ Weekly, 9 May 1998, p. 1209. 33 Statement of Rabbi David Saperstein, Chair, US Commission on International Religious Freedom, The US Commission on International Religious Freedom: First Annual Report, Hearing before the Committee on International Relations, House of Representatives, 106th Congress, Second Session, 24 May 2000, Washington, DC: US GPO, pp. 7–8. 34 US Department of State, International Religious Freedom Report 2006, Bulgaria, available at http://www.state.gov/g/drl/rls/irf/2006/71373.htm (accessed 22 September 2007); US Department of State, International Religious Freedom 2003, Bulgaria, available at http://www.state.gov/g/drl/rls/irf/2003/24348.htm (accessed 22 February 2007). Also see reports for the years 2001, 2002, 2004, 2005 and 2006. 35 See for instance, Ginio Ganev, Georgi Bakalov and Iliya Todev, Darzhava i Tzarkva: Tzarkva i Darzhava v Bulgarskata Istoriya [State and Church: Church and State in the Bulgarian History], Sofia: UI Cv. Kliment Ohridski, 2006. 36 Wayne S. Vucinich, ‘The Nature of Balkan Society under Ottoman Rule’, Slavic Review, 1962, 21 (4), p. 598. 37 See Stavro Skendi, ‘Language as a Factor of National Identity in the Balkans of the Nineteenth Century’, Proceedings of the American Philosophical Society, 1975, 119 (2), 186–9. 38 Marin Pundeff, ‘Bulgarian Historiography, 1942–1958’, American Historical Review, 1961, 66 (3), 682–93. 39 Mary Neuburger, ‘Bulgaro-Turkish Encounters and the Re-Imagining of the Bulgarian Nation (1878–1995)’, East European Quarterly, 1997, 31 (1), 1–20. 40 Milcho Lalkov and Dragomir Dragonov, Rulers of Bulgaria: Khans, Tsars, Statesmen, Sofia: Kibea, 2003, p. 21. 41 Ibid., p. 48. 42 Traian Stoianovich, ‘The Conquering Balkan Orthodox Merchant’, Journal of Economic History, 1960, 20 (2), 234–13; Peter Sugar, ‘Major Changes in the Life of the Slav Peasantry under Ottoman Rule’, International Journal of Middle East Studies, 1978, 9 (3), 297–305.

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43 Indeed, it may actually be the Ottoman experience of the millet system which distinguishes Balkan Eastern Orthodoxy from the Russian Orthodox Church. See Speros Vyronis, Jr, ‘The Byzantine Legacy and Ottoman Forms’, Dumbarton Oaks Papers, 1969–70, 23, 251–308. 44 Vucinich, ‘The Nature of Balkan Society under Ottoman Rule’. 45 Ganev et al., Darzhava i Tzarkva. 46 For instance, Bozhidar Dimitrov, 12 Mita na Bulgararskata Istoriya [12 Myths of Bulgarian History], Sofia: Fondantziya Kon, 2005; Bozhidar Dimitrov, The Seven Ancient Civilizations in Bulgaria, Sofia: Kom Foundation, 2005; Bozhidar Dimitrov, Bulgarian Christian Civilization, Sofia: Kom Foundation, 2007. 47 Dimitar Popov, Istoriya na Bulgarskite Imperii [History of the Bulgarian Empires], Sofia: Ogledalo, 2004; Robert Browning, Byzantium and Bulgaria: A Comparative Study across an Early Medieval Frontier, Berkeley: University of California Press, 1975. 48 Vladimir Zhidovetz, Bulgaria prez vekovete i dnes [Bulgaria through the Ages and Today], Sofia: Sv. Georgi Pobedonosetz, 2004. 49 Ganev et al., Darzhava i Tzarkva. 50 Browning, Byzantium and Bulgaria. 51 Deno Geanakopolis, ‘Church and State in the Byzantine Empire: A Reconsideration of the Problem of Caesaropapism’, Church History, 1965, 34 (4), 381–403. 52 Ultramontanism refers to one who is ‘beyond the mountains’. For most of Europe, the Pope was beyond the Alps in Italy. See, for instance, Austin Gough, Paris and Rome: The Gallican Church and the Ultramontane Campaign 1848–1853, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1986. 53 Talip Kucukan, ‘Re-claiming Identity: Ethnicity, Religion and Politics among Turkish-Muslims in Bulgaria and Greece’, Journal of Muslim Minority Affairs, 1998, 19 (1), 49–68. 54 Bernard Lewis, ‘The Ottoman Empire and Its Aftermath’, Journal of Contemporary History, 1980, 15 (1), 27–36. 55 Georgiades Arnakis ‘The Greek Church of Constantinople and the Ottoman Empire’, Journal of Modern History, 1952, 24 (3), 235–50. 56 Halil Inalcik, ‘Ottoman Methods of Conquest’, Studia Islamica, 1954, 2, 103– 29; Selim Deringil, ‘“There Is No Compulsion in Religion”: On Conversion and Apostasy in the Late Ottoman Empire: 1839–1856’, Comparative Studies in Society and History, 2000, 42 (3), 547–75. 57 See Skendi, ‘Language as a Factor of National Identity’; Stavro Skendi, ‘CryptoChristianity in the Balkan Area under the Ottomans’, Slavic Review, 1976, 26 (2), 227–46. 58 Richard Crampton, A Concise History of Bulgaria, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1997. 59 Pamela Ballinger and Kristen Ghodsee, ‘Socialist Secularism: Gender, Religion and Modernity in Bulgaria and Yugoslavia, 1946–1989’, Aspasia: The International Yearbook of Central, Eastern, and Southeastern European Women’s and Gender History, 2011, 5, 6–27. 60 Evgenija Garbolevsky, A Church Ossified? Repression and Resurgence of Bulgarian Orthodoxy, 1944–1956, Sofia: Asconi-Izdat, 2005. 61 Ibid. 62 Asad, Formations of the Secular. 63 For instance, see the fascinating study by Judith Herrin, Women in Purple: Rulers of Medieval Byzantium, Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2004. 64 James E. Wood, Jr, ‘Christianity and the State’, Journal of the American Academy of Religion, 1967, 35 (3), 257–70. 65 John Locke, A Letter Concerning Toleration, available at http://www.constitution. org/jl/tolerati.htm (accessed 8 April 2009).

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66 And here is it important to point out that Mustafa Kemal Ataturk abolished the Caliphate in 1924 as a part of his efforts to modernise and secularise Turkey. 67 Samuel Huntington, The Clash of Civilizations and the Remaking of World Order, New York: Simon & Schuster, 1996, p. 70. 68 Phil Zuckerman, The Cambridge Companion to Atheism, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2006. 69 Ibid. 70 United Nations Development Program, National Human Development Report Bulgaria 1999, vol. II, Bulgarian People’s Aspirations, Sofia: UNDP, 1999, p. 69. 71 Ibid. 72 Petar Kanev, ‘Religion in Bulgaria after 1989: Historical and Socio-Cultural Effects’, South-East Europe Review, 2002, 1, 75–96. 73 Ibid., p. 77. 74 Victor Kostov, ‘Freedoms renounced – even though religious freedom is guaranteed by Bulgaria’s Constitution, there have been several political attacks on this freedom’, Christian Century, 22 March 2000. 75 Church of the Nazarene, God’s Bulgarian Tapestry, Bethany, OK: Church of the Nazarene, Southern Nazarene University, available at http://home.snu. edu/~HCULBERT/tape11.htm (accessed 3 February 2007). 76 Admittedly, the nationalist party Ataka has caused some recent concern with its anti-Turkish, anti-Muslim and especially anti-Roma sentiments. Despite the bluster and the continuing presence of Ataka in the National Assembly, there have been few incidents of religious violence against the Muslim minorities. 77 Olivier Roy, Globalized Islam: The Search for a New Umma, New York: Columbia University Press, 2004. 78 Petar Petkoff, ‘Church–State Relations under the Bulgarian Denominations Act 2002: Religious Pluralism and Established Church and the Impact of Other Models of Law on Religion’, Religion, State and Society, 2004, 33 (4), 315–37. 79 Author’s personal communication with Krassimir Kanev in 2006. 80 US Department of State, International Religious Freedom Report 2002, Bulgaria. 81 US Department of State, International Religious Freedom Report 2006, Bulgaria, available at http://www.state.gov/g/drl/rls/irf/2006/71373.htm (accessed 22 September 2007); US Department of State, International Religious Freedom Report 2003, Bulgaria, available at http://www.state.gov/g/drl/rls/irf/2003/24348. htm (accessed 22 February 2007). Also see reports for the years 2001, 2002, 2004, 2005, and 2006. 82 Commission for Protection against Discrimination, Reshenie (Decision), No. 37, Sofia, 27 July 2006. 83 Parliamentary Assembly of the Council of Europe, ‘Women and religion in Europe’. Parliamentary Assembly of the Council of Europe, Resolution 1464, 2005 Available at http://assembly.coe.int/Main.asp?link=/Documents/AdoptedText/ ta05/ERES1464.htm (accessed 30 January 2007).

38 Orthodox Christianity and globalisation Victor Roudometof

The relationship between globalisation and Orthodox Christianity is a hitherto underdeveloped theme in the social scientific literature. This chapter addresses this topic in a twofold manner. On the one hand, it illustrates the multiple engagements of the Eastern forms of Christianity with worldhistorical globalisation through a consideration of its pre-modern era – an era that is of critical importance for understanding the formation of the Eastern Orthodox branch of Christianity. On the other hand, it focuses more extensively upon the entanglements between Orthodox Christianity and globalisation in the modern (1830s–1945) and contemporary (1945–present) periods.1 Given this volume’s thematic focus, this chapter maintains a balance between historical and contemporary foci, with greater attention given to discussing the recent processes of nationalisation and transnationalisation. The chapter’s opening section highlights the historical legacy of the various churches typically included under the label of ‘Eastern Christianity’. Instead of the conventional dichotomy between Western and Eastern Christianity, it suggests a historically more accurate division between Chalcedonian and non-Chalcedonian forms of Christianity. Within Chalcedonian Christianity, a further historical division concerns the gradual consolidation of two distinct branches, those of Roman Catholicism and Orthodox Christianity. The chapter’s second section addresses the historically more recent and in many instances still ongoing processes of Orthodox Christianity’s nationalisation and transnationalisation. These two processes suggest that globalisation’s influence upon the reshaping of Orthodox Christianity has been quite consequential. In Orthodox nation-states, a modern synthesis between church and nation has ensued – a powerful instance of religious resacralisation that illustrates religion’s continuing relevance. In the chapter’s other sections, attention is focused on the current and future prospects of Orthodox Christianity. In particular, the thesis of Moscow and Constantinople as powerful rival institutions is critically reviewed. It is suggested that the two institutions’ relationship is far more complicated than conventionally assumed. The chapter concludes with some speculations concerning the prospects of Orthodox Christianity in the course of the twenty-first century.

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Theoretical and historical considerations Globalisation has been subject to multiple and often competing definitions and perspectives that reflect differences in research foci.2 Globalisation is profoundly historical; its pace and influence for the crystallisation of various branches of Christianity requires a bird’s-eye view of historical developments. Interpretations of globalisation as a ‘consequence of modernity’ or as the result of a ‘second modernity’ fail to satisfactorily address the issue of historicity and reduce globalisation to a historically recent process with a history of only a few centuries or even less.3 From the perspective of the longue durée, though, it is the ‘rise of the West’ that takes place within world-historical globalisation.4 This is all the more important for considerations of the various branches of Eastern Christianity. In fact, the conventional narrative of the social sciences is a narrative that naturalises the modernisation of Western societies, with the result that Orthodox Christianity ‘becomes a more marginal concern and only enters the story at a later stage’.5 To understand the multiple entanglements between the various streams of Eastern Christianity and globalisation requires taking into account the realisation that globalisation does not necessarily involve a mystical long-term trend toward universalisation but includes processes of fragmentation or hybridisation. The very notion of globalisation entails a plurality of responses as outcomes instead of a single master narrative of secularisation and modernisation.6 The various regional combinations or fusions between universal religiosity and local particularity are by no means characteristic of Eastern forms of Christianity. Historically, the creation of distinct branches of Christianity – such as Orthodox and Catholic Christianity – bears the mark of this particularisation of religious universalism. This blend of religious universalism and particularism is therefore a matter of concrete empirical reality, of the historical record itself. Both in the past and present a variety of global trends and processes have been decoded and incorporated within the rich tapestry of ethnic groups, nations and regional identities that forms the religious landscape of Eastern Christianity. For current purposes, an important point of departure is the Council of Chalcedon (AD 451). To address a variety of Christological disputes, the council introduced the formula of Christ having two natures united yet completely distinct. In its aftermath, several churches that did not accept the council’s formula broke away to form the non-Chalcedonian churches, including the Coptic, Armenian, Assyrian and Ethiopian churches.7 Some of them did not participate in that council or even in earlier councils. In Ethiopia, Armenia and Egypt, these non-Chalcedonian churches were intertwined with the preservation and reproduction of local identities. Their own blend of universalism and particularism, though, falls outside the scope of this discussion. Instead of successfully thwarting Christological challenges, Chalcedon was important in terms of self-definition: The Chalcedonian churches started

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using the term ‘Orthodox’ (literary meaning the correct doctrine) to designate themselves.8 For both Catholics and Orthodox Christians, their Declaration of the Faith states that they believe in a single ‘Orthodox’ (i.e. correct) and ‘Catholic’ (that is, universal) church. This common reality of a single universal Christian church lasted for several centuries. Initially this universal Chalcedonian church included Christians both in the western and the eastern parts of the Mediterranean basin, which at that time was still largely united under the auspices of the Roman Empire. In due course, Chalcedonian Christianity was fragmented into the branches or traditions that are conventionally designated as Orthodox Christianity and Roman Catholicism. This fragmentation was slow and gradual as the vernacularisation of Chalcedonian Christianity in the two parts of the Mediterranean contributed to the formation of distinct traditions. Vernacularisation involved the rise of different vernacular high-culture languages with their own script.9 Even before the rise of Christianity, Greek and Latin were high-culture languages in the eastern and western parts of the Mediterranean. After the spread of Christianity, their status as vernacular high-culture script languages further amplified cultural differences that became encoded in religious categories. The formation of Orthodox Christianity and Roman Catholicism was further instrumental for the formation of the notions of ‘East’ and ‘West’ within Europe, and the legacy of this historical division remains important to this very day. In the pre-modern era of globalisation (from the fourth until the fifteenth century), Orthodox Christianity was moulded in the social and cultural fabric of Serbs, Bulgarians, Russians and Georgians. In most of these instances, though, the establishment of an ecclesiastical relationship vis-à-vis religious hierarchy (e.g., an archbishopric or an autonomous or autocephalous religious organisation) implicitly entailed varied degrees of recognition of the authority of the Eastern Roman emperor. For many centuries, Orthodoxy maintained this close association with the Eastern Roman (e.g., Byzantine) Empire; and its own orientation vis-à-vis the papacy was in many respects shaped by the imperial point of view.10 Unlike the Roman Catholic Church, which is ‘one, not only because all its members profess the same faith and join in a common worship, but also because they are united by the guidance of the infallible successor of St. Peter, the Roman Pontiff’,11 the Orthodox Church never adopted a notion of administrative unity as central to its own self-image. In due course, theological arguments were constructed and forcefully advocated by both the Catholic and Orthodox hierarchies as a result of consolidating specific agendas and blueprints that involved the ecclesiastical institutions’ own understanding of their purpose and role within the Christian ecumene. Since the ninth century, papal claims to primacy were consistently refuted by the Orthodox ecclesiastical establishment. While the Orthodox have been willing to recognise the Pope as primus inter pares (first among equals), Orthodox theology rejects papal claims to primacy (primatus potestatis) and specifically

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the Petrine doctrine of papal primacy, i.e. the notion that the papacy inherits its superior status from St Peter. For the Orthodox, papal claims to primacy violate the conciliarity of the Christian tradition.12 Undoubtedly, the religious alienation between Catholic and Orthodox Christians was greatly exacerbated by the Crusades. Western crusaders did not hesitate to employ the rhetoric of heresy to justify their military exploits, whereas the Orthodox side was stunned by the principle of ‘holy war’ evoked by the crusaders. The turning point between the two sides was the 1204 conquest of Constantinople by the crusaders of the Fourth Crusade and the collapse of the Eastern Roman Empire (Byzantium). It is no accident that in 2001 Pope John Paul II issued an apology for the events of the Fourth Crusade, in which he lamented the fact that ‘the assailants who set out to secure free access for Christians to the Holy Land, turned against their brothers in the faith. That they were Latin Christians fills Catholics with deep regret.’13 Only after the disappearance of imperial rule did Orthodox institutions begin to operate autonomously and without relying upon political leadership: ‘At a time when the imperial position was being constantly eroded by the Ottoman advance and Latin military aid being implored, the Orthodox Church went its own way, strengthened in its spiritual life and emphasising its own powers of jurisdiction and moral authority.’14 Between the two falls of Constantinople (1204–1453) both doctrinal and liturgical evolution took place, heavily contributing to the crystallisation of Orthodox Christianity to the format that is commonly known and practised in the world today. The two abortive acts of union with Rome (1274 and 1438–39) were in many respects instrumental in fostering Orthodox defiance to Catholic objectives of administrative union under the auspices of papal authority. The brief overview above is not merely a historical recitation; it suggests that Orthodox Christianity and Roman Catholicism were profoundly shaped by their historical encounters and cross-regional interactions with each other in the course of the seven centuries between Charlemagne’s crowning as Roman Emperor (AD 800) and Constantinople’s second fall to the Ottomans in 1453. It was in that era – an era ignored by the conventional narrative of Western modernisation – that the defining features of Orthodoxy Christianity emerged and when both Catholicism and Orthodoxy emerged as distinct and conflicting traditions. The subsequent sense of alienation or existential gap that divided the two parts of the hitherto unified Chalcedonian Christianity has had long-lasting consequences.15 After the Enlightenment era, Western European modernisation raised the issue of confronting the challenges of modernity not only within its own cultural milieu but also within the milieu of Orthodox eastern and southeastern Europe. Rationalism – a major facet of the Enlightenment – has been famously used to justify the modernist notions of objective knowledge. Its application of Reason into the domains of science and social life also provided a central foundation for modernity per se. Orthodox theological discourse has consistently – from the eighteenth century until the twenty-first

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century – voiced a critique of Western modernity. This critique is founded upon the limits of rationality as a basis for comprehending the world and, most importantly, as a means of providing the world with meaning.16 Long before Max Weber referred to the ‘iron cage’ of modernity by which he highlighted the limitations of modern rationality to offer meaningful ends to individuals, Orthodox theological discourse has employed a very similar leitmotif to criticise Western Reason.17 Orthodox theology has articulated a vision of apophatic theology, or more generally ‘apophaticism’, as a discursive means of deciding matters of faith.18 Without going into the details of theological discourse, it should suffice to say that apophaticism has been intended as a strategy – used in the era of the Church’s ecumenical councils – which aimed at stating what God is not, as opposed to what God is. Given that God is incomprehensible for the human being then human words cannot describe what God is. Hence, authoritative statements about the nature of the faith state more accurately what God is not. This strategy has evolved into the concept of ‘negative theology’. Alongside deification,19 apophaticism provides a theological cornerstone of contemporary Orthodox theology. The above easily illustrates the extent to which anti-rationalism and antimodernism can often degenerate into sheer anti-Western sentiment. Therein lay the foundations of most attacks against Orthodox Christianity as an antimodern and anti-Western religion; to the extent that the critique of Western Reason implicit in the Orthodox tradition is a negation of modernity, that is certainly correct. But philosophical or theological critique is not identical to the critique of modernisation projects per se; historically, all over the world, secular and sometimes even ecclesiastical leadership has taken the initiative to institute such projects as a means for local societies to ‘catch up’ with the ‘modern West’. One has to carefully distinguish between the philosophical and the policy-orientated critique of modernity and modernisation. The Orthodox theological and philosophical critique of modernity should not be confused with concrete historical examples and cases in which Orthodox Christianity has concretely demonstrated adversity against modernity and modernisation projects as such.

Nationalisation, transnationalisation and the modern synthesis Until the eighteenth century, the majority of Orthodox Christians lived in the Ottoman and Russian empires. They were under the pastoral care of two institutions: the Russian Orthodox Church, which had its primate elevated in 1589 to the status of a patriarch, and the Ecumenical Patriarchate of Constantinople.20 However, in the modern era of nations and nationalism, these two institutions evolved very differently. In the Russian case, the patriarchate was abolished in 1721 and was revived in 1917, only to survive successive rounds of Soviet persecution at great cost. In the Ottoman case, the authority of the Ecumenical Patriarchate was fragmented as a result of the rise of local nationalisms. Over the nineteenth century, when Greece, Serbia,

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Romania and Bulgaria were territorially disaggregated from the Ottoman Empire and became either independent (i. e. the Kingdom of Greece, 1833) or autonomous states (pre-1878 Serbia, pre-1908 Bulgaria), they developed their own secular political leadership, which in turn led to a modern synthesis between church and nation.21 This synthesis was predicated upon nationalism’s success as the principal legitimising force in the modern world. It connected national churches in Romania, Serbia, Bulgaria and Greece with their respective nation-states and offered a model for cross-societal emulation.22 Through the modern synthesis a church–nation link was constructed, linking the Orthodox confession with each nation. Administrative independence in the form of national autocephaly became a means of showcasing national independence. In order to construct such a link it was imperative for religious markers and institutions to relate to the newly crafted national ‘secular’ identities and to adapt themselves to the emerging realities of the era of the nation-state. This altered the structural foundations and cultural significance of Orthodox Christianity. Religion was re-sacralised through its connection to the nation; in the Orthodox nation-states, Orthodox institutions became emblematic not only of universal Christianity but also of national particularism. To belong to the nation one also had to belong to the national church. In nineteenth-century Ottoman-held Macedonia, Serbs, Greeks and Bulgarians used paramilitary groups to coerce the local population to declare as their confession the respective Serb, Bulgarian or Greek versions of Orthodoxy.23 That might be the most extreme application of this mentality. Its most spectacular application in the realm of official state policy, though, concerned the 1923 Lausanne Treaty, whereby the Orthodox Christian and Muslim population of Greece and Turkey was compulsorily sent to the two countries where they supposedly belonged. To move from the recent past to the present, consider the following exchange with Krassimir, a Bulgarian taxi driver, in 2007: Question: Are you a Christian? Answer: Yes, of course. Q: Do you believe in God? A: No. Q: How are you a Christian if you do not believe in God? A: I am [Orthodox] Christian because I am Bulgarian. Boris baptized the Bulgarians to make a Bulgarian Kingdom. [So] Bulgarians are [Orthodox] Christians.24 In the above example, the use of Orthodox Christianity as a cultural marker that signifies inclusion in the nation is abundantly clear and self-reflexively used by the informant. Echoes of this discursive understanding of religion abound throughout contemporary Eastern European nations. From the Russian Orthodox Church’s Basis of the Social Concept of the Russian Orthodox Church

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to numerous pronouncements of religious leaders in public discourse, this understanding forms the backbone of the contemporary mode of existence for the majority of Orthodox Christians in eastern and southeastern Europe.25 This relationship has largely grown out of Orthodox Christianity’s propensity to assume a ‘taken-for-granted unity between religion and community’.26 The Church, as Orthodox theologians tirelessly repeat, is not simply the religious hierarchy or the formal institution but the entire body of those who are publicly affiliated with the faith.27 The importance of the faith lies at the level of public culture and community, and in contemporary nations this culture is also a national culture. Through its nationalisation Orthodox Christianity has further moulded itself into the fabric of the modern eastern and southeastern European nations, and nearly all of its adherents today would add an ethnic or a national modifier (‘Greek’, ‘Bulgarian’, ‘Russian’ and so on) to their identification as Orthodox Christians. Although its origins can be traced back to the nineteenth century, this process has continued in the course of the twentieth century with new states – sometimes communist ones – fostering ecclesiastical independence as a means of bolstering national aspirations and hence gaining legitimacy among the population. The Macedonian case, in which the local communists sponsored the independence of the local church from the Serbian Orthodox Church, is a good case in point.28 In Estonia, Moldova and Ukraine, nationalist movements also used ecclesiastical autocephaly for the same purposes, but their objectives were frustrated by the incorporation of these countries into the USSR. As a result, these ecclesiastical disputes resurfaced after the collapse of communism.29 The existence of such contests over administrative jurisdiction is one of the major issues that will have to be settled in the course of the twenty-first century. Such disputes are not always connected to existing nation-states; they also extend into the various transnational immigrant communities of Orthodox Christians. From the nineteenth century onwards, hundreds of thousands of Orthodox Christians migrated out of the traditional Eastern European heartlands to new destinations, most notably to overseas destinations (Australia, Canada and, most importantly, the United States). In the course of the twentieth century another far more silent and less well-documented migration wave directed hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of Orthodox immigrants into Western Europe. In most cases, the result was the creation of parishes and communities connecting the immigrants back to their original homeland and their mother churches. The church–nation link between Orthodoxy and national identity was thus not confined within the new Orthodox nation-states of southeastern and eastern Europe, but was exported via the ecclesiastical institutions’ own transnationalisation of the Orthodox populations of the Ottoman Empire among immigrant trans-Atlantic or Western European communities.30 The fragmentation of these communities into a multitude of ethnic groups and the institution of separate ecclesiastical units have contributed to the difficulties of

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studying these diverse groups, as many of them are too small to attract the attention of social scientists, and the existence of complicated and often overlapping ecclesiastical arrangements does not make things easier. Moreover, the 1917 Bolshevik revolution and the post-1945 imposition of communist rule throughout Eastern Europe further caused many of these communities to break their traditional ties with their motherland churches. This was famously done in the case of Russian Orthodox communities outside the USSR’s borders. However, in the post-Second World War period the Ukrainian and the Estonian churches also maintained their own separate refugee ecclesiastical organisations, while after the imposition of communist rule in many Eastern European countries the US-based communities sought to break off their ties with their mother churches, which were under the effective control of these countries’ communist regimes.31 Some of them sought the support of the Ecumenical Patriarchate in order to maintain their canonical status. This chaotic situation persisted until the collapse of communism. In its aftermath, many expatriate churches were reunified with their mother churches. Other churches, though, having gained a sense of identity remained autocephalous, such as, for example, the Orthodox Church in America, which, until 1970 was a metropolia of the Russian Orthodox Church. There are numerous examples of ‘long-distance nationalism’32 that illustrate the potency of national identity among Orthodox immigrants. These manifest the extent to which the predominant pattern of Orthodox transnationalism has been that of various Orthodox national groups that employ religion as a means of maintaining and reproducing their ethnic or national identities in a new cultural milieu. No Orthodox diaspora per se exists; Orthodox theology supports the preservation of religious ties through the institution of the local (i.e. national) church and not through a single administrative jurisdiction that could unite peoples of diverse origins under a single ecclesiastical hierarchy.33 As a result of these processes, Orthodox Christianity was simultaneously nationalised and transnationalised. The nationalisation and transnationalisation of Orthodox Christianity reflects the growing ability of the faith itself to continuously relate to historically novel political and cultural forms, ranging from those of the modern nation-state to the various communal organisations set up by immigrants in their host countries. It is important to acknowledge that this process is far from complete; the growing pains of achieving administrative stability and cohesion, both among nation-states and in the various transnational Orthodox communities, are responsible for producing a great deal of strain among ecclesiastical institutions. There are numerous instances of such strain: the declaration of the post-1989 Ukrainian Autocephalous Orthodox Church (related to Ukrainian national self-assertion), the creation of competing jurisdictions in post-1991 Moldova, the declaration of autocephaly for the Orthodox Church of Estonia and the Orthodox Church of Macedonia and the controversies created by the application for autonomy or autocephaly by various immigrant churches in the course of the twentieth

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century are almost without exception related to the ‘national question’ of Eastern European nations. The tension between Christian universalism and ethnic nationalism has been acutely felt within Orthodox institutions, in particular on the issue of national autocephaly. In the era of modern nationalism, the ancient principle of territoriality was resurrected to obtain the autocephaly of national churches. In terms of ecclesiastical governance, the establishment of jurisdictional boundaries in Orthodox dioceses was initially based on a correspondence with the Roman Empire’s municipal system, as stated in Canon 17 of the Council of Chalcedon and Canon 38 of the in Trullo Council.34 In the modern era, this correlation of the territoriality with the national principle essentially implied that an autocephalous church should be established within a nation-state. This principle was explicitly invoked by Ecumenical Patriarch Joachim III in his letter concerning the recognition of the Serbian Orthodox Church in 1879.35 On this basis, granting autocephaly is conditional upon a church’s location within a sovereign state. Although such independence is clearly related to national self-assertion, jurisdiction is grounded on the territoriality principle. For example, the Church of Serbia’s jurisdiction was confined to the domain of the Serb state, and not to the other communities of Serbs lying outside the state’s boundaries. In canon law, however, ethnic principles have also been invoked when dealing with faraway places, nomadic tribes, pagans, non-Christian ‘barbarians’ and so on. A major historical example is the establishment of the original Kyiv metropolitan seat, whereby its holder was metropolitan of Kyiv and All of Rus’ (that is, the leader of a people and not of a territorially construed entity). In the modern era of nations and nationalism, the nationality principle as a foundation for autocephaly became contested. Orthodoxy’s ambivalence toward ethnic nationalism is well known. As early as 1872, the Ecumenical Patriarchate convened a synod that condemned the doctrine of ethnofyletismos, a term that means what we usually refer to as ‘ethnic nationalism’ today. The synod was convened in order to address the Ottoman decree (firman) that established the Bulgarian Exarchate (1870). The decree did not set clearly defined territorial boundaries whereby competing claims by rival jurisdictions could be put forward with regard to the same locale. The 1872 synod led to the official excommunication of the Bulgarian Exarchate and its followers, considered heretics who rejected religious unity in favour of ethno-national bonds. The subsequent schism (which lasted from 1872 until 1945) represented the recognition of a major shift in the nature of church affiliation, whereby the nationality principle was introduced openly as the foundation for constructing separate national churches even within the boundaries of a single state. Traditionally, the 1872 decision is viewed as part of the Greek–Bulgarian nationalist conflict over Ottoman-held Macedonia.36 Bulgarian nationalists viewed the 1872 decision as part of patriarchal support for Greece’s claims, whereas Greek nationalists viewed the establishment of the Bulgarian Exarchate as a proxy for justifying the future annexation of

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pro-Exarchate regions into the Bulgarian state. The ecclesiastical grounds for the 1872 decision have been largely ignored; this is a tendency that is still present in local historiography. In contemporary theological discourse, however, the 1872 decision offers a major historical precedent to argue that Orthodox Christianity should maintain a critical distance from various local nationalisms and insist on the universal character of the faith. This orientation offers a novel means for the ecclesiastical institutions to navigate around the numerous issues raised and forced upon the various churches by activists and nation–states.

Revising the ‘two towers’ thesis: reflections on contemporary ecclesiastical politics In the aftermath of the 1989 collapse of communism in Eastern Europe, contemporary commentators have noted the resurgence of the Russian Orthodox Church, which quickly regained most of its human and material infrastructure.37 As a result of the USSR’s collapse, the Church also found itself needing to provide spiritual guidance to millions of Russians who were suddenly left outside the confines of the Russian Federation, hence, offering the context for raising the issue of Russian Orthodox ‘transnationalism’.38 By identifying its own ecclesiastical territory with that of the former Holy Russia and by attempting to reassert its authority over the various transnational Orthodox Russian churches outside Russia, the Russian Orthodox Church emerged as an important geopolitical player. The impression was henceforth created of two major rival institutions – the Ecumenical Patriarchate of Constantinople and the Moscow Patriarchate – competing for the allegiance of the world’s Orthodox. This impression has been further bolstered by the use of the infamous image of Moscow as a ‘Third Rome’, which inherited a claim to global supremacy through its steadfast defence of Orthodoxy.39 Although the fable is of questionable historical value, it has nevertheless played an important role in more recent Russian ecclesiastical and national politics.40 Under the influence of communist authorities in the mid-twentieth century and during the Cold War era, the Moscow Patriarchate did attempt to directly challenge the authority of the Ecumenical Patriarchate.41 This effort, however, was short-lived and most likely should be viewed as an expression of the conflicts of that era as well as of the complete subordination of the Russian Orthodox Church to the communist regime. In twenty-first-century ecclesiastical politics, this ‘two towers’ model of Orthodox Christianity offers a highly distorted view of the faith and its ecclesiastical politics. Specifically, while it demonstrates a sophisticated understanding of geopolitics, the model fails to register the different positions of these two institutions. Arguably the national Orthodox Church with the largest numerical constituency, the Russian Orthodox Church, is still a national church, irrespective of whether this is defined on sheer territorial terms or on ethnic-national terms. In other words, its claim to authority is circumscribed

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by its ability to speak only to one of the various Orthodox peoples. In contrast, the Ecumenical Patriarchate, while often viewed or depicted as an ethnically Greek institution, has a longstanding history of operating as an international agency that claims authority – based on canonical grounds – to mediate ecclesiastical disputes and to serve as the ultimate arbiter on competing administrative claims.42 The patriarchal authority far exceeds its own strength, measured in terms of resources and flock. But while the prestige of a national church is based on the strength of its resources, patriarchal authority rests on the strength of the Orthodox tradition. And that is of paramount importance for Orthodoxy, a faith that self-identifies with the preservation of this tradition. Moreover, the more a national church – like the Russian Orthodox Church – actively pursues an international role, the more it circumscribes its own universalist credentials, for its own actions highlight the limits of its canonical authority. In fact, the Russian Orthodox Church’s post-1991 strategy has been consciously aimed at preserving its traditional ‘canonical territory’ (which in effect is considered identical to the pre-1917 boundaries of the Russian Empire) and regaining its control over the various diasporic Russian Orthodox communities, mostly in Western Europe and North America.43 In contrast, the Ecumenical Patriarchate has in recent years performed an important geopolitical shift in its politics by reducing its own traditional dependence upon Greece and relying more on the United States as an outside powerful ally, a strategy that seems to have been beneficial in its ongoing struggle to secure its international credentials within the Republic of Turkey.44 In fact, the Ecumenical Patriarchate’s own future prospects depend extensively on the support of the US-based Orthodox constituency as well as on its own ability to act as a transnational or international ecclesiastical organisation with the canonical authority to mediate or settle disputes among rival ecclesiastical institutions. There are obvious limits to the Ecumenical Patriarchate’s own ability to perform such a task: both the principle of conciliarity and the application of the synodical system require that numerous administrative matters – as well as issues pertaining to interfaith dialogue, bioethics and other related topics – cannot be fully addressed without the convocation of an ecumenical council. Such a council remains the ultimate form of authority within the Orthodox religious landscape. But such a council will be called only when the major ecclesiastical powers have already sufficiently proceeded in their own formal or informal negotiations to such a degree that a major consensus is about to emerge. The stabilisation and/or resolution of the various forms of national rivalries – some of them new, some of them inherited from the nineteenth century – remains a major obstacle for such a consensus. Invariably, national churches are likely to adopt canonical interpretations that are favourable to their own issues of national concern. To name one such example, there is the issue of restructuring administrative jurisdictions for overseas Orthodox communities in order for these to conform to the principle of a single bishop for each territorial unit, instead of the current status quo, whereby multiple

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bishops are presiding over different ethnic groups residing within the same nation-state. This is bound to be a highly controversial subject. Thus, removing these issues from the agenda or reducing the implicit national tensions are factors contributing to the increased chances of reaching unanimity in an ecumenical council, which in turn is a major requirement in order to have canonical decisions that will be implemented, recognised and honoured as ecumenical by the overwhelming majority of the Orthodox churches. This might be a major task for twenty-first-century Orthodox ecclesiastical institutions.

Contemporary challenges The discussion thus far has made it abundantly clear that the dual processes of nationalisation and transnationalisation have affected Orthodox Christianity in a deep and profound manner. The resacralisation of Orthodoxy performed through the nation-formation processes of eastern and southeastern European nations has meant that the Orthodox Church has maintained a highly symbiotic and privileged relationship with most local states, albeit, with the rather obvious exception of the recent experience of communism. In other words, the experience of modernisation did not necessarily entail the Church’s successful and/or constructive engagement with the forces of secularism, nor was there an official or unofficial means through which the various national churches could adjust to a cultural environment of religious pluralism.45 Certainly, the historical experience of life under various communist regimes entailed oppression and harsh tolerance, with the Church’s high clergy often forced into a subservient position vis-à-vis the communist authorities. But the use of religion for the purposes of national cohesion remained a strong component in several southeastern European countries (Bulgaria, Romania and Macedonia), while in other countries (Albania, Yugoslavia) the communist regimes were far more consistent in their opposition to the Church. In either case, there is very little in terms of a historical legacy that could be used as a means of preparing the national churches to have a positive engagement with either religious pluralism or secularism. Both of these are challenges that the various Orthodox churches would need to face up to in the course of the twenty-first century. Perhaps the most unlikely outcome would be the constitution of Orthodox Christianity into a single organisational structure or a universal church with a clearly defined administrative hierarchy. This is the well-known model of the Roman Catholic Church, and for historical as well as pragmatic reasons it is completely alien to the Orthodox tradition. The institutionalisation of the local national churches and the other ecclesiastical bodies is well established, and after 1989 it was further strengthened by the revival or reconstitution of several autocephalous churches. As frustrating as it is for researchers, Orthodox Christianity is likely to continue offering a kaleidoscopic model

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of religious organisations and units that confuse outsiders. Seismic shifts in church administration are quite unlikely. The Ecumenical Patriarchate and its friendly rival, the Russian Orthodox Church, will remain the two most important international power holders of the Orthodox religious landscape. While physical relocation of the patriarchate has at times been contemplated, it is far more likely that the patriarchate will survive in its current location; training future clergy and electing nonTurkish subjects as patriarchs are two practical issues that might ultimately determine such a decision, but on both fronts the patriarchate has made some progress. The various nationalised forms of Orthodoxy – as these are experienced in the lives of numerous different ethnic or national groups around the globe – will most likely survive and even flourish at times. Orthodox Christianity has moulded into these groups’ fabric over the course of several centuries. Shedding such forms in favour of a single Orthodox universalism will be a great, yet unlikely, historical shift. In the course of the twentieth century, only the US-based Orthodox communities have been sufficiently influenced by that country’s vibrant religious economy as well as by its culture of religious pluralism. From within the ranks of these communities, dissenters and activists have put forth the suggestion that Orthodox universalism should shed aside all ethnic divisions, and that the US-based Orthodox communities should reconstitute themselves in the form of a single US-based autocephalous church.46 To date, however, the practical implementation of such an agenda appears completely unrealistic. Nevertheless, in the course of the twenty-first century, it is actually perhaps inevitable that such an ecclesiastical organisation might emerge. Such a development might be one of the factors that in due course might contribute to the Orthodox Church’s re-evaluation of religious pluralism and might affect its stance on this front.47 Most Orthodox churches have been national churches – that is, they enjoy a privileged relationship with local states and receive material support and recognition of their special status by public authorities. These react strongly to the prospects of being turned into mere denominations, that is, religious organisations that operate in an open religious market, competing with one another for religious adherents. But as a practical matter, the challenge of religious difference is introduced into societies around the globe, and the Orthodox religious landscape is no exception. Consequently, the national churches will have to develop a new modus vivendi with their state authorities. The most likely manner might be a reluctant but effective acceptance that at least some measure of religious pluralism is here to stay. Some of these churches might also take the lead to adjust more aggressively; a more active role for the various national Orthodox churches might be a paradoxical outcome of increased religious pluralism. Once a national church is no longer restricted by state control or by its religious monopoly, it can enter the fray of social and cultural life far more forcefully. The various institutional, social and cultural contexts will determine the nature and outcome of such interventions.

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One of the likely developments of the twenty-first century should be the growing interfaith dialogue between the Catholic and the Orthodox churches.48 It is important to recall that, theologically speaking, there is far more common ground on Christological issues between the Orthodox and Catholic than between the Orthodox and the non-Chalcedonian churches. Obviously, no future act of union between the two branches of Christianity should be foreseen. But these two branches of Christianity are likely to feel they have more in common as a response to the numerical increase and visibility both of the various sects derived from Protestantism, Islam, Hinduism and other world religions. In the far more interconnected world of the twenty-first century, the boundaries between ‘Us’ and ‘Them’ will have to be reconsidered. To do so effectively requires the intellectual and cultural tasks of interrogating and criticising both Western Orientalism and Eastern Occidentalism. Both of these predispositions are still with us today. Revising the images of Roman Catholicism and Orthodox Christianity is a task for historians and social scientists, just as much as it is for theologians and the high clergy.

Conclusion This chapter offers an outline of Orthodox Christianity’s entanglements with historical globalisation. The first part of the chapter has addressed a series of historical and theoretical considerations; the chapter’s second half has addressed historically more recent trends within the Orthodox religious landscape. The chapter has further discussed various ongoing debates about the role and position of Orthodoxy’s major centres as well as future prospects for the twenty-first century. What has been stressed in this chapter is the necessity for adopting a historical perspective in order to avoid misunderstandings that reduce globalisation to a recent trend or fad. From within these lenses, it has been suggested that the conventional division between Eastern and Western Christianity should be superseded by a historically far more accurate division between Chalcedonian and non-Chalcedonian forms of Christianity. Within Chalcedonian Christianity, a major historical consequence of the different vernacularisations of Christianity into the two parts of the Mediterranean basin involved the emergence of distinct branches of Christianity; these have become commonly known as Orthodox Christianity and Roman Catholicism. The very process of constructing Orthodox Christianity as a religious tradition therefore bears the historical marks of inter-regional interactions that form part of historical globalisation. During the post-1800 era, nationalisation and transnationalisation of religious institutions have represented two major facets of historical globalisation. Both of these processes have had a decisive impact upon the Orthodox religious landscape. The emergence of national churches in southeastern Europe led to the multiplication of ecclesiastical autocephaly and contributed to ever greater administrative fragmentation. The new churches were part of

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a modern synthesis between nation-states and Orthodoxy, whereby church and nation were reconnected. Orthodox Christianity was thus particularised within the confines of different national groups. This mode was duplicated in numerous Orthodox immigrant communities. National and religious politics were thus intertwined, an association prominently displayed in the post-1989 era when numerous administrative disputes over ecclesiastical jurisdiction re-emerged in the former USSR. These disputes register the contemporary extension of the church–nation link into newly constructed or reconstructed nation-states. Overall, then, Orthodox Christianity has had a rich and consequential engagement with historical globalisation. Its nationalisation and transnationalisation are by no means complete but are ongoing processes that involve several nations and ecclesiastical institutions. Undoubtedly, the spectacular post-1989 revival of the Russian Orthodox Church has enabled it to reclaim a historical role in preserving the boundaries of the Russian nation. But while its various expressions of Russian Orthodox transnationalism have brought it into open conflict with rival Eastern Orthodox churches, this chapter has stressed the differences between the Russian Orthodox Church and the Ecumenical Patriarchate. Although the former is a powerful international organisation, it is still only one national church. In contrast, the latter is a transnational agent capable of mediating and settling disputes among rival institutions. Irrespective of their different status, though, successful consensus among Orthodox churches requires a modus vivendi between these two organisations. In the twenty-first century, there will be some relatively new challenges for Orthodox institutions. Specifically, most churches will need to confront the historically recent institution of secularism (that is, the active pursuit of separating religious and secular functions) and religious pluralism (that is, the cultural acceptance of faith as a result of free choice and not as part of a national or ethnic tradition). Both of them require the Orthodox churches to develop new and imaginative solutions. Still, it is important to highlight the fact that, in the course of past centuries, Orthodox Christianity has moulded with the fabric of various communities, ethnic groups and nations. While lacking a strong centralised administration, its hybridisation offers an important asset in facing up to contemporary challenges. Its contemporary hybrid forms – either national or transnational – are likely to persist and even flourish in the twenty-first century. In this regard, contemporary globalisation might be far more of an opportunity for renewal than a challenge to be thwarted.

Notes 1 The periodization adopted here follows the classification developed in David Held, Anthony McGrew, David Goldblatt and Jonathan Perraton, Global Transformations: Politics, Economics, and Culture, Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 1999.

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2 For some influential definitions, see Martin Albrow, The Global Age: State and Society beyond Modernity, Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 1997; Malcolm Waters, Globalization, London: Routledge, 1995; Roland Robertson, Globalization: Social Theory and Global Culture, London: Sage, 1992; Ulrich Beck, What is Globalization?, London: Polity, 2000; and Held et al., Global Transformations. 3 See Anthony Giddens, The Consequences of Modernity, Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 1990, and Ulrich Beck, Risk Society, London: Sage, 1992, for two prominent interpretations. For a critical assessment see Robert Holton, Cosmopolitanisms, Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2009. 4 John M. Hobson, The Eastern Origins of Western Civilization, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2004. 5 Peter Beyer, Religions in Global Society, London: Sage, 2006, p. 122. For the inadequate treatment of Eastern Christianity in most contemporary sociological discussions, see the critical remarks in Peter McMylon and Maria Vorozhishcheva, ‘Sociology and Eastern Orthodoxy’, in The Blackwell Companion to Eastern Christianity, Ken Perry (ed.), Oxford: Blackwell, 2007, pp. 462–79. 6 Peter Beyer, ‘Globalization and Glocalization’, in The Sage Handbook of the Sociology of Religion, James A. Beckford and N. J. Demerath III (eds), London: Sage, 2007, pp. 98–117. 7 John L. Esposito, Darrell J. Fasching and Todd Lewis, Religion and Globalization: World Religions in Historical Perspective, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2008, pp. 52–4; Nicolas Zernov, Eastern Christendom: A Study of the Origin and Development of the Eastern Orthodox Church, London: Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 1963, pp. 64–5. 8 John Anthony McGuckin, The Orthodox Church: An Introduction to Its History, Doctrine and Spiritual Culture, Oxford: Blackwell, 2008, pp. 18–20, and Daniel B. Clendenin, Eastern Orthodox Christianity: A Western Perspective, 4th edn, Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Books, 2002, pp. 34–7. 9 Goran Therborn, ‘Globalizations: Dimensions, Historical Waves, Regional Effects, Normative Governance’, International Sociology, 2000, 15 (2), p. 160. 10 Eastern European rulers in general were hesitant to claim the status of the Roman title of basileus. A ‘standing caveat to the aspirations of the Rus and other rulers was the [Ecumenical Patriarchate’s] … commitment to the idea that Christendom’s unity was underpinned by the presence of a “Roman” empire in Constantinople’, notes Jonathan Shepard, ‘The Byzantine Commonwealth, 1000–1500’, in The Cambridge History of Christianity, vol. 5, Eastern Christianity, Michael Angold (ed.), Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2006, pp. 10–11. 11 Alexander Bogolepov, Toward an American Orthodox Church: The Establishment of an Autocephalous Orthodox Church, 2nd rev. edn, Crestwood, NY: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 2001, p. 3. 12 For theological discussions, see Jaroslav Pelikan, The Spirit of Eastern Christendom (600–1700), Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1977, pp. 156, 163–70, and Aristide Papadakis with John Meyendorff, The Christian East and the Rise of the Papacy: The Church 1071–1453 A.D., Athens: Educational Foundation of the National Bank of Greece, 2003, pp. 232–3. The Orthodox interpretation is spelled out ibid., pp. 236–55. Papal supremacy was deeply implicated on two theological issues of contention, the question over the proper minister for the sacrament of confirmation (that is, whether this could be done by a priest as in the East or only by a bishop as in the West) and the question of the compulsory celibacy of the clergy (Pelikan, Spirit of Eastern Christendom, p. 174). At stake was the Pope’s right to unilaterally issue binding decisions on these matters, which was contested because in the Orthodox theological view such matters could only be decided by a synod.

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13 Jonathan Phillips, The Fourth Crusade and the Sack of Constantinople, London: Pimlico, 2005, p. xiii. 14 J. M. Hussey, The Orthodox Church in the Byzantine Empire, Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1990, p. 290. 15 It is not accidental that when even twentieth-century Orthodox theologians – such as Alexander Schmemann – speak of the schism with the Latin West, they attribute an existential depth to it. Clendenin, Eastern Orthodox Christianity, p. 25. 16 Ibid., pp. 48–64. 17 Vasilios N. Makrides, ‘Orthodox Christianity, Rationalization, Modernization: An Assessment’, in Eastern Orthodoxy in a Global Age: Tradition Faces the TwentyFirst Century, Victor Roudometof et al. (eds), Walnut Creek, CA: AltaMira Press, 2005, pp. 179–209. 18 For an interesting discussion, see Nicos Mouzelis, ‘Self and Self–Other Reflexivity: The Apophatic Dimension’, European Journal of Social Theory, 2010, 13 (2), 271–84. 19 In contrast to the Western European or Roman Catholic tradition, Orthodox theological tradition has focused on experiential pathways for obtaining the believer’s union with God (theosis or deification). Accordingly, deification means that, although the uncreated essence of God remains unknowable to humans, both in this life and the next one, humans in this life can share in God through the uncreated energies bestowed by deifying grace. The notion has been fully elaborated by the fourteenth-century monk and bishop, St Gregory Palamas. For a detailed theological and historical study of Palamas see John Meyendorff, A Study of Gregory Palamas, Crestwood, NY: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 1998. For more critical accounts, see Dirk Krausmuller, ‘The Rise of Hesychasm’,in The Cambridge History of Christianity, vol. 5, Angold (ed.), pp. 101–26, and Michael Angold, ‘Byzantium and the West’, in The Cambridge History of Christianity, vol. 5, Angold (ed.), pp. 53–78. 20 Ukraine of course remained independent for several centuries, until it was absorbed by Russia in 1686. For a discussion of Ukrainian culture, see Frank E. Sysyn, ‘The Formation of Modern Ukrainian Religious Culture: The Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries’, in Religion and Nation in Modern Ukraine, Serhii Plokhy and Frank E. Sysyn (eds), Alberta: Canadian Institute of Ukrainian Studies, 2003, pp. 1–22. 21 For a more extensive discussion, see Victor Roudometof, ‘Greek-Orthodoxy, Territoriality and Globality: Religious Responses and Institutional Disputes’, Sociology of Religion, 2008, 69 (1), 67–91, and at greater length, Victor Roudometof, ‘The Evolution of Greek-Orthodoxy in the Context of WorldHistorical Globalization’, in Orthodox Christianity in 21st Century Greece: The Role of Religion in Culture, Ethnicity and Politics, Victor Roudometof and Vasilios N. Makrides (eds), Farnham: Ashgate, 2010, pp. 21–38. 22 For the difficulties and controversies generated in the course of this restructuring see Paschalis M. Kitromilides, ‘The Legacy of the French Revolution: Orthodoxy and Nationalism’, in The Cambridge History of Christianity, vol. 5, Angold (ed.), pp. 229–49. 23 For a brief overview of the Macedonian issue and further literature, see Victor Roudometof, Collective Memory, National Identity and Ethnic Conflict: Greece, Bulgaria and the Macedonian Question, Westport, CT: Praeger, 2002, pp. 84–9. 24 Quoted in Kristen Ghodsee, ‘Symphonic Secularism: Eastern Orthodoxy, Ethnic Identity and Religious Freedoms in Contemporary Bulgaria’, Anthropology of East Europe Review, 2009, 27 (2), p. 227. 25 Department for External Church Relations of the Moscow Patriarchate, Basis of the Social Concept of the Russian Orthodox Church, Moscow: Russian Orthodox Church, 2000, http://orthodoxeurope.org/print/3/14.aspx (accessed 28 June 2011).

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26 Peter Berger, ‘Orthodoxy and Global Pluralism’, Demokratizatsiya: The Journal of Post-Soviet Democratization, 2005, 13 (3), p. 441. 27 For discussions, see Timothy Ware, The Orthodox Church, Harmondsworth: Penguin Books, 1964; McGuckin, The Orthodox Church; Clendenin, Eastern Orthodox Christianity; and John Binns, An Introduction to the Christian Orthodox Churches, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2002. 28 Todor Cepreganov and Philip Shashko, ‘The Macedonian Orthodox Church’, in Eastern Christianity and the Cold War, 1945–91, Lucian N. Leustean (ed.), Abingdon: Routledge, 2010, pp. 173–88. 29 See Frank E. Sysyn, ‘The Third Rebirth of the Ukrainian Autocephalous Orthodox Church and the Religious Situation in Ukraine, 1989–1991’, in Religion and Nation in Modern Ukraine, Plokhy and Sysyn (eds), pp. 88–119; Lucian Turcescu and Lavinia Stan, ‘Church–State Conflict in Moldova: The Bessarabian Metropolitanate’, Communist and Post-Communist Studies, 2003, 36, 443–65; and Daniel P. Payne, ‘Nationalism and the Local Church: The Source of Ecclesiastical Conflict in the Orthodox Commonwealth’, Nationalities Papers, 2007, 35 (5), 831–52. 30 For examples, see Loring Danforth, ‘Ecclesiastical Nationalism and the Macedonian Question in the Australian Diaspora’, in The Macedonian Question: Culture, Historiography, Politics, Victor Roudometof (ed.), Boulder, CO: East European Monographs, 2000, pp. 25–54; Sergei Heckel, ‘Diaspora Problems of the Russian Emigration’, in The Cambridge History of Christianity, vol. 5, Angold (ed.), pp. 539–57; and Victor Roudometof, ‘Transnationalism and Globalization: The Greek-Orthodox Diaspora between Orthodox Universalism and Transnational Nationalism’, Diaspora, 2000, 9 (3), 361–98. For additional details on the United States, see Alexei. D. Krindatch, The Orthodox (Eastern Christian) Churches in the USA at the Beginning of the New Millennium, Hartford, CT: Hartford Institute for Religion Research, 2006, http://hirr.hartsem.edu/research/orthodoxindex.html (accessed 1 July 2010). 31 On the Western European Russian communities, see Heckel, ‘Diaspora Problems of the Russian Emigration’. For an overview of the US experience, see Krindatch, The Orthodox (Eastern Christian) Churches in the USA. 32 Benedict Anderson, ‘The New World Disorder’, New Left Review, 1993, 193 (May/ June), 2–13. 33 Maria Hammerli, ‘Orthodox Diaspora? A Sociological and Theological Problematization of a Stock Phrase’, International Journal for the Study of the Christian Church, 2010, 10 (2–3), 97–115. 34 Bogolepov, Toward an American Orthodox Church, pp. 11–12. 35 Quoted ibid., pp. 14–15. 36 For a brief overview of the Macedonian issue and further literature, see Roudometof, Collective Memory. The text of the 1872 decision is reprinted in John Meyendorff, Geōrgios Kapsanēs, Geōrgios D. Metallēnos, Giannēs Zerbos, Paulos Karanikolas, Savvas Agouridēs, Irineós Bulović, Dēmētrios V. Gonēs and Ēlias Phratseas, Valkania kai Orthodoxia [The Balkans and Orthodoxy], Athens: Minima, 1993. 37 For the relevant data see this volume’s chapter on the Russian Orthodox Church. 38 For two discussions that employ the transnational label to refer to Russians outside the borders of the post-1991 Russian Federation, see Ralph Della Cava, ‘Transnational Religions: The Roman Catholic Church in Brazil and the Orthodox Church in Russia’, Sociology of Religion, 2001, 62 (4), 535–50, and Alicia Curanovic, ‘The Attitude of the Moscow Patriarchate towards Other Orthodox Churches’, Religion, State and Society, 2007, 35 (4), 301–18. 39 For two examples of recent analyses that employ this line of reasoning, see Curanovic, ‘The Attitude of the Moscow Patriarchate’ and Lukasz Fajfer and

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41 42 43 44 45 46

47

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Sebastian Rimestad, ‘The Patriarchates of Moscow and Constantinople in a Global Age: A Comparison’, International Journal for the Study of the Christian Church, 2010, 10 (2/3), 211–27. Both offer extremely helpful and insightful overviews of recent events. See Donald Ostrowski, ‘“Moscow the Third Rome” as Historical Ghost’, in Byzantium: Faith and Power (1261–1557), Sarah T. Brooks (ed.), New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2006, pp. 170–9, and more extensively Dimitrii Sidorov, ‘Post-Imperial Third Romes: Resurrections of a Russian Orthodox Geopolitical Metaphor’, Geopolitics, 2006, 11, 317–47. For an overview, see Paschalis M. Kitromilides, ‘The Ecumenical Patriarchate’, in Eastern Christianity and the Cold War, Leustean (ed.), pp. 221–39. Roudometof, ‘Greek-Orthodoxy, Territoriality and Globality’. For a discussion, see Alexander Agadjanian and Kathy Rousselet, ‘Globalization and Identity Discourse in Russian Orthodoxy’, in Eastern Orthodoxy in a Global Age, Roudometof et al. (eds), pp. 29–57. Prodromos Yannas, ‘The Soft Power of the Ecumenical Patriarchate’, Mediterranean Quarterly, 2009, 20 (1), 77–93. Berger, ‘Orthodoxy and Global Pluralism’. For discussions, see Roudometof, ‘Transnationalism and Globalization’; Victor Roudometof and Anna Karpathakis, ‘Greek Americans and Transnationalism: Religion, Class, and Community’, in Communities across Borders: New Immigrants and Transnational Cultures, Paul Kennedy and Victor Roudometof (eds), London: Routledge, 2002, pp. 41–54; and Anna Karpathakis, ‘“Whose Church Is It Anyway?” Greek Immigrants of Astoria, New York and Their Church’, Journal of the Hellenic Diaspora, 1994, 20 (1), 97–122. In speaking of religious pluralism I follow Beckford’s differentiation between plurality (that is, the mere existence of religious diversity or heterogeneity) and religious pluralism (that is, the normative endorsement and practical implementation of pluralism in legislation and administration). See James Beckford, Social Theory and Religion, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2003. For a lucid summary of most twentieth-century developments of interfaith dialogue see Ronald Robertson, The Eastern Christian Churches, 8th edn, Rome: Orientalia Christiana, 2008. For a historical overview, see Kenneth F. Yossa, Common Heritage, Divided Communion: The Declines and Advances of Inter-Orthodox Relations from Chalcedon to Chambésy, Piscataway, NJ: Gorgias Press, 2009.

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Individual chapters list the main sources for their churches, while the bibliography provides further reading on Eastern Christianity. Aagaard, Anna Marie and Peter Bouteneff, Beyond the East-West Divide: The World Council of Churches and ‘the Orthodox Problem’, Geneva: World Council of Churches, 2001. The Acts of the Council of Chalcedon, translated with introduction and notes by Richard Price and Michael Gaddis, Liverpool: Liverpool University Press, 2005. Alexander, Stella, Church and State in Yugoslavia since 1945, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1979. Alfeyev, Hilarion, Orthodox Witness Today, Geneva: WCC Publications, 2005. Alfeyev, Hilarion, Orthodox Christianity, 2 vols, translated by Basil Bush, Yonkers, NY: St. Vladimir’s Seminary, 2012. Anastos, Milton, Aspects of the Mind of Byzantium: Political Theory, Theology, and Ecclesiastical Relations with the See of Rome, ed. Speros Vryonis, Jr and Nicholas Goodhue, Aldershot: Ashgate, 2001. Anderson, John, Religion, State and Politics in the Soviet Union and the Successor States, 1953–1993, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1994. Angold, Michael (ed.), The Cambridge History of Christianity, vol. 5, Eastern Christianity, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2006. Antreassian, Assadour, Jerusalem and the Armenians, Jerusalem: St James Press, 1968. Armanios, Febe, Coptic Christianity in Ottoman Egypt, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2011. Asfaw, Semegnish, Alexios Chehadeh and Marian Gh. Simion, Just Peace: Orthodox Perspectives, Geneva: WCC Publications, 2012. Atiya, Aziz S., A History of Eastern Christianity, Notre Dame, IN: University of Notre Dame Press, 1968. Atiya, Aziz S. (ed.), The Coptic Encyclopedia, 8 vols, New York: Macmillan, 1991. Attwater, Donald, The Christian Churches of the East, 2 vols, Milwaukee: Bruce Publishing Co., 1947. Badr, Habib (ed.), Christianity: A History in the Middle East, Beirut: Middle East Council of Churches, 2005. Baker, Kevin, A History of the Orthodox Church in China, Korea, and Japan, Lewiston, NY and Lampeter: Edwin Mellen Press, 2006.

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Barker, Ernest, Social and Political Thought in Byzantium: From Justinian I to the last Palaeologus: Passages from Byzantine Writers and Documents, Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1957. Barrett, David B., George Thomas Kurian and Todd M. Johnson (eds), World Christian Encyclopedia: A Comparative Study of Churches and Religions in the Modern World, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001. Bartholomew, Ecumenical Patriarch, Encountering the Mystery: Understanding Orthodox Christianity Today, New York: Doubleday, 2008. Bartholomew, Ecumenical Patriarch, Speaking the Truth in Love: Theological and Spiritual Exhortations of Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew, ed. and with an introduction by John Chryssavgis, New York: Fordham University Press, 2011. Batalden, Stephen K. (ed.), Seeking God: The Recovery of Religious Identity in Orthodox Russia, Ukraine, and Georgia, DeKalb: Northern Illinois University Press, 1993. Batrouney, Trevor, Cradle of Orthodoxy: St Nicholas Antiochian Orthodox Church 1932–2007, East Melbourne: St Nicholas Antiochian Orthodox Church, 2007. Battaglia, Gino (ed.), L’ortodossia in Italia. Le sfide di un incontro, Bologna: Edizioni Dehoniane, 2011. Baum, William and Dietmar Winkler, The Church of the East: A Concise History, London: Routledge, 2003. Behr-Sigel, Elisabeth, The Ordination of Women in the Orthodox Church, Geneva: WCC Publications, 2000. Benz, Ernst, The Eastern Orthodox Church: Its Thought and Life, translated by Richard and Clara Winston, Garden City, NY: Anchor Book, 1963. Berglund, Bruce R. and Brian Porter-Szücs (eds), Christianity and Modernity in Eastern Europe, Budapest and New York: Central European University Press, 2010. Binns, John, An Introduction to the Christian Orthodox Churches, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2002. Blance, A. (ed.), Russia and Orthodoxy: The Ecumenical World of Orthodox Civilization, Paris: Mouton, 1974. Bobrinskoy, Boris, The Mystery of the Trinity: Trinitarian Experience and Vision in the Biblical and Patristic Tradition, translated by Anthony Gythiel, Crestwood, NY: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 1999. Bociurkiw, Bohdan R. and John W. Strong (eds), Religion and Atheism in the USSR and the Soviet Union, London: Macmillan, 1975. Bogopolev, Alexander A., Toward an American Orthodox Church: The Establishment of an Autocephalous Orthodox Church, 2nd rev. edn, Crestwood, NY: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 2001. Bordeianu, Radu, Dumitru Staniloae: An Ecumenical Ecclesiology, London and New York: T&T Clark, 2011. Borowik, Irena and Miklós Tomka (eds), Religion and Social Change in Post-Communist Europe, Kraków: Zakład Wydawniczy Nomos, 2001. Bourdeaux, Michael, Religious Ferment in Russia: Protestant Opposition to Soviet Religious Policy, London: Macmillan, 1968. Bourdeaux, Michael, Patriarch and Prophets: Persecution of the Russian Orthodox Church, London and Oxford: Mowbrays, 1975. Bourdeaux, Michael, Opium of the People, London and Oxford: Mowbrays, 1977. Bourdeaux, Michael, Land of Crosses: The Struggle for Religious Freedom in Lithuania, 1930–1978, with a Foreword by Cardinal Franz König, Chulmleigh, Devon: Augustine Publishing Company, 1979.

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Bourdeaux, Michael, Gorbachev, Glasnost and the Gospel, London: Hodder & Stoughton, 1990. Bourdeaux, Michael and Michael Rowe (eds), May One Believe – in Russia?, London: Darton, Longman and Todd, 1980. Bouteneff, Peter C., Sweeter Than Honey: Orthodox Thinking on Dogma and Truth, Crestwood, NY: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 2006. Breck, John, The Power of the Word in the Worshipping Church, Crestwood, NY: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 1986. Bremer, Thomas, Ekklesiale Struktur und Ekklesiologie in der Serbischen Orthodoxen Kirche im 19. und 20. Jahrhundert, Würzburg: Augustinus, 1992. Bremer, Thomas (ed.), Religion and the Conceptual Boundary in Central and Eastern Europe. Encounters of Faiths, Basingstoke: Palgrave, 2008. Bremer, Thomas, Cross and Kremli: A Brief History of the Orthodox Church in Russia, translated by Eric W. Gritsch, Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 2013. Bria, Ion (ed.), Martyria/Mission: The Witness of the Orthodox Churches Today, Geneva: Commission on World Mission and Evangelism, World Council of Churches, 1980. Briggs, John, Mercy Amba Oduyoye and Georges Tsetsis (eds), A History of the Ecumenical Movement, vol. 3, 1968–2000, Geneva: WCC Publications, 2004. Brock, Sebastian P., Syriac Studies: A Classified Bibliography, 1960–1990, Kaslik: Parole de l’Orient, 1996. Brock, Sebastian P., From Ephrem to Romanos: Interactions between Syriac and Greek in Late Antiquity, Aldershot: Ashgate, 1999. Brock, Sebastian P., Fire from Heaven: Studies in Syriac Theology and Liturgy, Aldershot: Ashgate, 2006. Brown, Leslie, The Indian Christians of St Thomas: An Account of the Ancient Syrian Church of Malabar, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1982. Brown, Peter, The World of Late Antiquity: From Marcus Aurelius to Muhammad, London: Thames and Hudson, 1971. Brown, Peter, The Body and Society. Men, Women and Sexual Renunciation in Early Christianity, New York: Columbia University Press, 1988. Brown, Stephen F. and Khaled Anatolios, Catholicism and Orthodox Christianity, New York: Facts on File, 2006. Brüning, Alfons and Evert van der Zweerde (eds), Orthodox Christianity and Human Rights, Leuven: Peeters, 2011. Bryer, Anthony and Mary Cunningham (eds), Mount Athos and Byzantine Monasticism, Aldershot: Ashgate, 1996. Bryner, Erich, Die orthodoxen Kirchen von 1274 bis 1700, Leipzig: Evangelische Verlagsanstalt, 2004. Buchenau, Klaus, Orthodoxie und Katholicismus in Jugoslawien 1945–1991: Ein serbisch-kroatischerVergleich, Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz Verlag, 2004. Bulgakov, Sergii, The Orthodox Church, London: The Centenary Press, 1935. Burgess, Michael, The Eastern Orthodox Churches: Concise Histories with Chronological Checklists of their Primates, Jefferson, NC: McFarland, 2005. Buss, Andreas E., The Russian-Orthodox Tradition and Modernity, Leiden: Brill, 2003. Buxhoeveden, Daniel and Gayle Woloschak (eds), Science and the Eastern Orthodox Church, Farnham: Ashgate, 2011.

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Index

Aamun Koitto, 286, 289 Abate, Atnafu, 501 Abkhazia, 5, 7, 13, 17, 141, 148–9, 153–4, 387–401, 415 Abkhazian Orthodox Church, 5, 7, 387–401 Adelaja, Sunday, 319 Afeworke, Isaias, 506 Agapia Monastery, 12 Alaska, 251, 255–7, 275 Albania, 3–4, 6, 9, 12, 16, 30–1, 34, 69–70, 73–4, 78, 83, 173, 184, 205, 231–9, 260, 263, 273–4, 316, 457, 463, 723, 731, 748, 787 Albanian Archdiocese of the Orthodox Church in America, 231 Albanian Byzantine Catholic Church, 9 Albanian Ideological and Cultural Revolution, 231 Albanian Orthodox Church in America, 233–4 Albanian Orthodox Diocese of America (Ecumenical Patriarchate), 231–4, 252 Aleksander, (Hopjorski) Bishop of Pärnu-Saaremaa (Estonian Apostolic Orthodox Church), 304 Aleksander, (Paulus) Archbishop of Tallinn (Estonian Apostolic Orthodox Church), 296 Aleksii I, (Sergey Vladimirovich Simansky) Patriarch (Russian Orthodox Church), 632, 667 Aleksii II, (Alexei Mikhailovich Ridiger) Metropolitan / Patriarch (Russian Orthodox Church), 25, 30, 42–4, 48, 51–2, 54, 57–9, 126, 214, 224, 281, 296–300, 302–4, 307, 313–14, 360, 379–80, 388, 392, 405, 447 Alexander, (Kudryashov) Metropolitan of Riga (Latvian Orthodox

Church / Russian Orthodox Church), 374, 376–8, 380–2 Alexander Nevskii Cathedral in Tallinn, 300 Alexandrescu, Anton, 670 Alexandru, (Rusu) Bishop of Maramureş (Romanian Greek Catholic Church), 668, 671 Alexandru, (Șterca Șuluțiu) Metropolitan (Romanian Greek Catholic Church), 662 Alexandru, (Todea) Metropolitan (Romanian Greek Catholic Church), 671–4 Alexiev, Fr Nicholas, 447 Alix of Hesse (Aleksandra Feodorovna), 39 Allilengyi, 201 All-Belarusian Peoples Assemblies, 345 All-Russian Centre for the Study of Public Opinion (VTsIOM), 61 All-Ukrainian Council of Churches and Religious Organizations, 320–1, 644 Ambrose, (Adrian Baird) Bishop of Methone (Holy Synod in Resistance / South Ossetia), 391, 397 Ambrosios, (Zographos) Metropolitan of Korea (Ecumenical Patriarchate), 449–50 Ambrosius, (Jääskeläinen) Metropolitan of Helsinki (Finnish Orthodox Church), 284 American Carpatho-Russian Orthodox Diocese (Ecumenical Patriarchate), 34, 252, 264 Amfilohije, (Radović) Bishop of Montenegro and the Littoral (Serbian Orthodox Church), 70 Ampar, Abbot Andrei, 392

Index Amvrosios, (Lenis) Metropolitan of Kalavryta and Aigialeia (Orthodox Church of Greece), 200 Amvrosiy, Metropolitan of Dorostol (Bulgarian Orthodox Church), 128 Anastasios, (Janullatos) Archbishop (Albanian Orthodox Church), 4, 29, 173, 232–3, 237 Anatolii, (Orlov) Metropolitan of Moscow, All-Russia, Los-Angeles and All-Abroad (Orthodox Church of Russia), 52 Ancient Assyrian Church of the East, 8, 17, 615–16 Andrei, (Sheptytsky) Metropolitan (Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church), 626, 631, 634 Antonii, (Pelvetsky) Bishop (Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church), 627 Antonios, Bishop (Eritrean Orthodox Tewahedo Church), 506–7, 509, 513–15, 544 Anderson, John, 42 Andropov, Yuri Vladimirovich, 42 Anglican–Orthodox dialogue, 27 Annan, Kofi, 32, 162, 174 ‘Annunciation’ Medical Centre of Tiranë, 236 Annunciation Monastery, Blaj, 661 Anthimos (Rousas), Metropolitan of Thessaloniki (Orthodox Church of Greece), 200 Antiochian Orthodox Christian Archdiocese (Greek Orthodox Patriarchate of Antioch), 252, 268 Anton, (Durcovici) Bishop (Catholic Church in Romania), 669 Antonij, (Buravcov) Archimandrit, 359 Antonios, Patriarch (Eritrean Orthodox Tewahedo Church), 506–7, 509, 513–15, 544 Antony II Hayyek, Ignatius (Syrian Catholic Church), 558 Antony, (Audo) Bishop of Aleppo, 609, 617 Antony, (Bashir) Archbishop (United States), 263 Antony, (John Scherba) Metropolitan (Ukrainian Orthodox Church of the United States), 318, 323 Antony, (Masendych) Metropolitan (Ukrainian Orthodox Church of the Moscow Patriarchate), 316 Apostoli (Mission), 201

811

Aram I (Keshishian) Catholicos of the Great House of Cilicia (Armenian Apostolic Church), 487–9, 509 Armenian Apostolic Church (Armenia), 8, 17, 145, 254, 397, 399, 465, 471–97, 593 Armenian Apostolic Church of America (Catholicosate Cilicia) (Armenian Apostolic Church – Catholicosate Cilicia), 254 Armenian Catholic Church, 8 Armenian Catholicosate of the Great House of Cilicia (Lebanon), 8, 267, 488 Armenian Church of America (Catholicosate Etchmiadzin) (Armenian Apostolic Church – Catholicosate Etchmiadzin), 254, 489–90 Armenian Evangelical Church, 10, 484–5 Armenian National Movement, 476 Armenian Patriarchate of Constantinople (Turkey), 8, 490 Armenian Patriarchate of Jerusalem, Holy See of St James (Israel), 8, 490 Aron, (Marton) Bishop (Catholic Church in Romania), 669 Artemije, (Radosavljević) Bishop of Raška-Prizren (Serbian Orthodox Church), 73–4, 78–9, 81 Asad, Talal, 754–6, 765, 768 Assad, Bashir al’, 169, 553–4 Assembly of Canonical Orthodox Bishops in North and Central America, 15 Association of Independent Electronic Media ANEM, 78 Association of the Romanian Uniate Students, 663 Assyrian Church of the East, 8, 13, 16–17, 462–3, 465, 533, 568, 583, 602–20 Aştileanu, Fr Petru, 671 Atanasie, (Anghel) Metropolitan (Romanian Greek Catholic Church), 657, 659 Atanasije, (Jevtić) Bishop of ZahumljeHerzegovina (Serbian Orthodox Church), 68, 70, 87 Athenagoras, (Spyrou) Ecumenical Patriarch (Ecumenical Patriarchate), 24–5, 263, 266, 738

812

Index

Athens, 3–4, 34, 88, 127, 168, 184, 188, 190, 192, 194, 199, 203–4, 232, 237, 247, 262, 455, 462, 732 Augustinos, (Kantiotis) Metropolitan of Florina, Eordaia and Prespes (Orthodox Church of Greece), 182 Augustīns, (Pētersons) Metropolitan of Riga and All Latvia (Latvian Orthodox Church / Latvian Orthodox Church in Exile), 380 Australia, 4, 7, 17, 33, 317, 434–5, 454–67, 490, 535, 542, 547, 551, 558–9, 571–2, 576, 585, 601, 603, 609, 611, 615, 616, 618, 673, 782 Autocephalous versus autonomous, 4, 6 Autocephalous Turkish Orthodox Patriarchate, 7 Avanesova, Jelena, 308, 375 Baán, István, 709 Baghdad, 489, 525, 548–9, 551–2, 556, 559, 602–3, 605–10, 612, 615–18 Bakalski, Fr Fortunat, 694 Bakalski, Fr Petar, 690 Balamand Document (1993), 737, 740, 743, 745–8 Balashov, Nikolaj, 429 Baranov, Alexander, 256–7 Baranyi, Ladislau, 657 Bărnuțiu, Simion, 665 Bartha, Elek, 710 Bartholomew, (Dimitrios Arhondonis) Ecumenical Patriarch (Ecumenical Patriarchate), 25–33, 133, 185, 199, 225, 233, 286, 299, 302, 315, 317, 393, 429, 449, 462, 472, 509, 747 Bartolomeu, (Anania) Metropolitan of Cluj (Romanian Orthodox Church), 99, 103–4 Baselyos I, (Gebre Giyorgis) Archbishop / Catholicos-Patriarch (Ethiopian Orthodox Tawahedo Church), 500 Băsescu, Traian, 99, 102 Basil (Yao Fuan), Bishop (Orthodox Church in China), 443 Basile Moses I Daoud, Ignatius (Basile Daoud) (Syrian Catholic Church), 558 Basis of the Social Concept of the Russian Orthodox Church, 44, 781–2 Bazyli, (Włodzimierz Doroszkiewicz) Metropolitan (Polish Orthodox Church), 213, 222, 224, 226

Becali, Gigi, 100 Beglov, Alexei, 53 Bekele, Girma, 510 Belgrade, 68–9, 74, 77–9, 85–6, 88, 226, 260, 408, 436, 458, 464, 741 Berga, Fr Petros, 510 Berhaneyesus, Metropolitan Archbishop of Addis Ababa (Catholic Church in Ethiopia), 509 Belarusian Christian Democracy, 343–4 Belarusian Democratic Union, 221 Belarusian Orthodox Church, 7, 17, 40, 50, 215, 218, 220–5, 325, 334–56, 363, 376 Beliakova, Nadezhda, 373, 376 Belovezhskoye agreement, 338 Bering, Vitus, 256 Bernard-Maugiron, Nathalie, 527 Berne Inter-Faith Declaration, 28 Biblical Association of Macedonia, 430 Bigor Monastery, 431 Bielefeldt, Heiner, 409 Bijeljina, 71 Biserica Ortodoxă Română, 666 ‘Black Hundred’ organisation, 56 Blagojević, Mirko, 84 Blažanović, Milić, 83–5 Bociurkiw, Bohdan, 630–1 Bodnăraş, Emil, 667 Bogomils, 9 Borba, 84 Borisov, Fr Alexandr, 55 Borodina, Alla, 47 Borosh, Albert, 670 Boseovski, Fr. Trajko, 434 Bosnia-Herzegovina, 67, 69, 71–2, 86–7 Bossilkov, Mgr Eugene (Catholic Church in Bulgaria), 691, 694 Brazil, 13, 226, 490, 557, 559 Brezhnev, Leonid Ilyich, 42, 314 British Orthodox Church, 8 Bronze Night, 304 Brunoni, Paolo Archbishop (Catholic Church in Bulgaria), 682 Brussels, 15, 28, 168, 190, 201, 671 Bucharest, 1, 12, 96, 99–101, 103, 107, 388, 402–3, 405, 407–8, 411, 663, 668, 670–1 Buchkovski, Vlado, 432 Budapest, 30, 53, 706–8, 710, 714 Bujek, Jerzy, 225 Buko, Stanislav, 341 Bukovina, 108, 402, 405

Index Bulgaria, 3, 10, 12, 53, 86, 114–39, 241, 260, 266–7, 402, 456, 669, 681–703, 731, 739, 754–8, 761–71 Bulgarian Byzantine Catholic Church, 9, 17 Bulgarian Eastern Orthodox Diocese (US; Bulgarian Orthodox Church), 252 Bulgarian Orthodox Church, 3, 6, 10, 12–13, 16, 53, 114–39, 242, 252, 255, 263–4, 272–4, 316, 428, 457, 490, 681–703, 761–71 Bulgarian Orthodox Church – Alternative Synod, 3, 7, 117–20, 123, 127–8 Bulldozer Revolution, 69 Byelorussian Soviet Socialist Republic, 336, 338, 344, 351 Byzantine Empire, 11, 29, 335, 458, 778 Calciu-Dumitreasa, Fr Gheorghe (Romanian Orthodox Church), 97 California, 255, 465, 557, 610, 615–16 Camelia Shehata, 525 Carey, George (Archbishop of Canterbury) (Church of England), 27 Carter, Jimmy, 211 Cathedral of Athens, 188 Cathedral of the Dormition of the Mother of God, Budapest, 30, 53 Cathedral of National Salvation, Bucharest, 12, 99 Catholic−Orthodox dialogue, 13, 17–18, 216–18, 509, 737–53 Ceauşescu, Nicolae, 19, 96, 100, 103, 671–2 Centre of the Estonian Martyr-Bishop Saint Platon in Tallinn, 300 Četnik paramilitaries, 69 Chaldean Catholic Church, 9, 17, 614, 616–17 Chaldean Catholic Mission in the United Kingdom, 8 Chaldean Syrian Church (Assyrian Church of the East in India), 568, 573, 583–4 Chambésy, 14, 31, 33–4, 270 Chernenko, Konstantin Ustinovich, 42 Cherney, Protopresbyter Alexander (Dean of the Latvian Orthodox Church Abroad and Protopresbyter of the Ecumenical Throne of Constantinople), 381

813

Chernobyl, 334 Chernovetskyi, Leonid, 319 China, 5, 7, 17, 258, 439–46, 449–50, 459, 463, 761 Chirtoacă, Dorin, 409 Chirva, Yulia, 343 Chodkiewicz family, 213 Christodoulos, (Paraskevaidis) Metropolitan of Demetrias and Almyros / Archbishop (Orthodox Church of Greece), 181, 183, 187–96, 199–201, 203 Chrysostom, (Georgij Martishkin) Archbishop (Orthodox Church in Lithuania / Russian Orthodox Church), 359–62, 364–5 Chrysostomos I, (Kykkotes) Archbishop (Orthodox Church of Cyprus), 164, 175 Chrysostomos II, (Herodotos Demetriou) Archbishop (Orthodox Church of Cyprus), 161–2, 165, 167–8, 170, 175–6 Christofias, Dimitris, 162, 170 Chumachenko, Tatiana, 41 Church and Society Commission of the Conference of European Churches, 15 Church of Christ the Saviour, Moscow, 10, 38, 43, 44, 57, 59–61 Church of England, 453, 610 Church of the Genuine Orthodox Christians of Greece, 9 Church of the Genuine Orthodox Christians in America, 9 Church of the Sinai, 6 Č‘ikvaiże, Davit‘, 143 Civic Forum, 240 Clergy−Laity Assembly of the Macedonian Orthodox Church, 427 Clerides, Glavkos, 167 Clinton, Bill, 32, 760 Code of Canons of the Eastern Churches, 705, 711, 749–50 Coleman, Heather, 40 Committee of Representatives of Orthodox Churches to the European Union, 15 Committee for the Salvation of the Greek Catholic Church (Romania), 671 Commonwealth of all Orthodox Peoples, 185

814

Index

Commonwealth of Independent States, 338, 410 Condriţa Monastery, 416 Conference of European Churches, 13, 15, 51–2, 123, 146–7, 168–9, 236, 243, 303 Constantine, (Theodore Buggan) Metropolitan (Ukrainian Orthodox Church of the United States), 318, 323 Constantinescu, Emil, 99 Coptic Catholic Church, 8, 522, 538 Coptic Evangelical Church, 10 Coptic Orthodox Church, 8, 13, 17, 254, 267, 460, 464, 506, 521–41, 544, 555, 602 Coptic Orthodox Church in the United States (Coptic Orthodox Church), 254 Council for the Affairs of the Russian Orthodox Church (Moscow) (merged with the Council for the Affairs of Religious Cults in 1965 and renamed Council for Religious Affairs), 41, 632, 638, 641 Council of Chalcedon (451), 7, 277, 472, 492, 517, 522, 555, 592–3, 614, 777, 784, 789 Council of Florence (1439), 624, 657, 663–4, 743 Council of Religious Cults of the Soviet Socialistic Latvia, 372–3 Council of Spiritual Affairs of Republic of Latvia, 376 Crna Reka Monastery, 73 Croatia, 67, 69–73, 85–7, 429, 435, 454 Croatian Orthodox Church, 7 Crvenkovski, Krste, 427 Cselényi, István Gábor, 710 Cubreacov, Vlad, 407 Cultural Centre of the Archbishop Makarios III Foundation, 170 Cvetković, Mirko, 78–80 Cyprus, 24, 161–81, 267, 455, 460, 607, 731, 768 Czechoslovakia, 25, 30, 240–1, 243, 246, 249, 266, 693, 699, 707, 717 Czykwin, Eugeniusz, 221–3 Dabovich, Archimandrite Sebastian, 259 Daniel, Bishop of Sydney (Coptic Orthodox Church), 461, 464 Daniel, (Ciobotea) Bishop / Patriarch (Romanian Orthodox Church), 103–4, 108–9

Daniel, (Nushiro) Archbishop of Tokyo (Orthodox Church of Japan), 447, 450 Daugavpils Pedagogical University, 382 Dayton Peace Agreement, 67, 72 Dbar, Hieromonk Dorofei, 392 Debre Libanos Monastery, 500 Declaration of Ravenna (2007), 13, 28, 741 Delors, Jacques, 15 Demitros, Fr Keshi, 508 Demitros, Yeft-he, 508 Democratic Opposition of Serbia, 75 Democratic Party of Socialists (Montenegro), 85 Derg (Ethiopia), 460, 501–2, 504–6, 514 Desalegn, Hailemariam, 512 Detroit, 261, 263, 551 Dikarev, Alexei, 51 Dimitrie, Bishop (Free Serbian Orthodox Church), 458 Dimitrios I, (Papadopoulos) Ecumenical Patriarch (Ecumenical Patriarchate), 23–6, 148, 739 Dimitriou, Andreas, 171 Dimitrov Constitution, 114 Dimitrov, Georgi, 689 Đinđić, Zoran, 75, 78 Diomid, (Dziuban) Bishop, Head of the Diocese of Anadyr and Chukotka, 51, 55–7 Dionisije (Milivojević), Bishop (American Diocese of the Serbian Orthodox Church), 81 Dionysios, (Psiahas) Metropolitan of New Zealand (Ecumenical Patriarchate), 448 Dioscoros, Patriarch (Eritrean Orthodox Tewahedo Church), 506–7, 513 Dissidents, 97, 212, 400, 764 Dodig, Milorad, 80 Dometian, Metropolitan of Vidin (Bulgarian Orthodox Church), 127, 137–8 Đorđević, Mirko, 83 Dorotej, (Dimitrij Filip) Metropolitan (Czechoslovak Orthodox Church), 240, 247 Doukhobors, 10 Dragnev, Georgi, 688 Druc, Mircea, 404 Du, Fr. Alexander, 444 Du Ren Chen (Simeon Du), Bishop (Orthodox Church in China), 442

Index Đukanović, Milo, 85 Dveri Srpske, 75 Dzhidzhov, Fr Pavel, 694 Dzhundrin, Mgr Samuel (Catholic Church in Bulgaria), 696 Dzichkovskiy, Fr Alexander, 344 Dymytry, (Yarema) Patriarch (Ukrainian Autocephalous Orthodox Church), 318, 323 Ecclesiastical Academies in Athens, Thessaloniki, Herakleion and Ioannina, 194 Ecumenical Council of Churches in Czechia and in Slovakia, 243 Ecumenical Institute in Bossey, Switzerland, 25, 33, 108, 488, 583 Ecumenical Patriarchate, 3–6, 11, 13–17, 23–37, 52–3, 87, 167, 185, 204, 231, 233, 252–3, 270, 280, 282, 284, 315, 317–18, 323, 388, 405, 429, 449, 544, 726, 738–9, 780, 783–6, 788, 790 Edict of Milan, 80 Edintsvo, 359 Eelija, (Ojaperv) Bishop of Tartu (Estonian Apostolic Orthodox Church), 304 Eldarov, Svetlozar, 684, 687 Eleftheroi, 190 Elevferiy, (Bogoyavlenski) Metropolitan (Orthodox Church in Lithuania), 364 Emperor Charles VI, 658 Emperor Constantine I, 80 Emperor Haile Selassie, 460, 500, 511, 517 Emperor Kang Xi, 441 Emperor Joseph II, 625, 658, 660 Emperor Justinian, 29 Emperor Leopold I, 657 Emperor Licinius, 80 Emperor Paul I, 389 Emperor Tang Tsi, 447 Empress Catherine II, 55 Empress Maria Theresa, 623, 625, 658, 660 Endreyas, Bishop of Gondar (Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church), 502, 514 Epifanii, (Shanov) Bishop (Bulgarian Eastern Catholic Church), 683–5 Episcopal Assembly of the British Isles, 15 Episcopal Assembly of All Canonical Orthodox Bishops of Oceania, 462

815

Erdoğan, Recep Tayyip (Prime Minister, Turkey), 26 Eritrea, 267, 498–520 Eritrean Catholic Church, 9 Eritrean Orthodox Tawehedo Church, 8, 9, 17, 498–520, 535, 544 Espoo, 284 Estonian Apostolic Orthodox Church (Ecumenical Patriarchate), 3–4, 6, 12, 34, 52, 282–3, 295–311, 371, 380 Estonian Orthodox Church of the Moscow Patriarchate, 4, 7, 295, 295–311 Ethiopian Catholic Church, 8, 509 Ethiopian Orthodox Tawehedo Church, 8, 17, 460, 463, 465, 498–520, 555 Eurasian Union, 11, 319, 413 European Court of Human Rights, 14, 51, 78, 119, 300, 406–7, 546 European Economic Community, 182 European Humanities University, Minsk, 347 European Inter-parliamentary Assembly of Orthodoxy, 3, 184 European Parliament, 26–9, 100, 168 European People’s Party, 28 European Union, 14–15, 28–9, 34, 76, 102, 108, 168, 184, 186, 204, 225, 243, 333, 374, 543, 698, 731, 766, 771 European Values Study, 163 Evangelical Orthodox Church (United States), 268 Evangelical Christian Church, 77 Evdokim, (Meshchersky) Archbishop (United States), 261 Ezekiel, (Tsoukalas) Archbishop (Greek Orthodox Archdiocese of Australia – Ecumenical Patriarchate), 455 Faculty of Theology, Latvia University, 377 Faculty of Theology, University of Tartu, 304 Faith and Order Commission, 26 Fan (Noli), Father / Bishop (Albanian Orthodox Church in America), 234 Feodor, Righteous Warrior (Admiral Ushakov), 55 Filaret, (Mykhailo Antonovych Denysenko) Metropolitan / Patriarch (Russian Orthodox Church / Ukrainian Orthodox Church of the Moscow Patriarchate / Ukrainian

816

Index

Orthodox Church Kyiv Patriarchate), 313–20, 322–3 Filat, Vlad, 410, 412 Filioque, 742–3, 745, 748 Finland, 3, 13, 256, 280–94, 306, 372, 458, 603, 615 Finnish Day of Independence, 284 Finnish Lutheran Church, 283, 288 Finnish Orthodox Church, 3–4, 6, 16, 17, 34, 280–94, 299, 306 Fletcher, William, 634 Floarea adevărului, 663 Florovsky, Georges, 265, 583 Forest, Jim, 235 Foundations of Orthodox Culture, 47 Fradkov, Mikhail, 30 France, 8, 26, 33, 52, 104, 108, 127, 306, 366, 459, 490, 557, 559, 603, 609, 615, 696, 723, 726 Free Serbian Orthodox Church, 4, 7, 458, 463 Freeze, Gregory, 40 French Coptic Orthodox Church, 8 Gaddafi, Colonel Muammar, 200 Gaioz (Bidzina Keratishvili), Metropolitan (Georgian Orthodox Church), 140 Galaktion, Metropolitan of Stara Zagora (Bulgarian Orthodox Church), 126, 129, 138 Galloni, Don Francesco, 689, 691 Gamsakhurdia, Zviad, 141 Gamsaxurdia, Konstatine, 140–3, 149, 157 Garrard, John and Carol, 10, 42–3 Garufalov, Fr Ivan, 687 Gatti, Fr Pietro Ernesto, 670 Gavriil, Metropolitan of Lovech (Bulgarian Orthodox Church), 127–9 Gavriil, (Bănulescu-Bodoni) Metropolitan of Chişinău (Russian Orthodox Church), 403 Gavril, (Ghorgi Miloshev) Metropolitan (Macedonian Orthodox Church), 427, 431, 436 Gavrilo, (Dožić) Patriarch (Serbian Orthodox Church), 667 General Association of the Romanian Uniate Faithful, 663 Genuine Orthodox Church of America, 9 Georgian Orthodox Church, 6, 13, 16, 140–60, 252, 387, 389 Georgian Orthodox parishes in the United States, 252

Georgiev, Kimon, 689 Gergorios, Bishop (Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church), 504–5 Geremek, Bronisław, 220 German, (Đorić) Patriarch (Serbian Orthodox Church), 88 Germanos, Metropolitan of Baalbek (United States), 260 Germany, 12, 33, 76, 98, 104–5, 108, 201, 203, 221, 223, 237, 245, 248, 262, 295–6, 308, 336, 380–1, 390, 435, 439, 458–9, 463, 488–90, 508, 542–3, 547, 557–8, 603, 609, 615–16, 663, 688, 699, 715, 723, 727, 729–30, 738, 741, 760 Gheorghiu-Dej, Gheorghe, 667 Ghimpu, Mihai, 408 Ghiuş, Archimandrite Benedict, 670 Gorazd, Metropolitan (Macedonian Orthodox Church), 435 Gorbachev, Mikhail Sergeyevich, 42, 58, 157, 297, 312, 359, 373, 474–6, 641 Görögkatolikus Szemle, 709 Grabarka Shrine, 215–16 Greater Moravia, 242–3 Greece, 6, 9, 14, 24, 33, 49, 124, 161, 167, 182–209, 237–8, 257, 262, 266, 299, 306, 392, 395, 428, 453–7, 463–4, 487, 490, 603, 609, 615, 686–7, 730–2, 738, 755, 758–9, 766, 769, 772, 780–1, 784, 786 Greek Byzantine Catholic Church, 9 Greek Catholic churches, 8–9, 11, 16–18, 94, 101, 109, 210, 241, 243, 248, 312–13, 318, 325, 335, 364–5, 621–720, 727, 737–53 Greek Catholics in Former Yugoslavia, 9 Greek Orthodox Archdiocese of America (Ecumenical Patriarchate), 33, 252, 268, 278 Greek Orthodox Archdiocese of Australia, 33, 466 Greek Orthodox Archdiocese of Thyateira and Great Britain, 33, 544 Greek Orthodox Patriarchate of Alexandria, 6, 8, 259, 524 Greek Orthodox Patriarchate of Antioch, 6, 252, 259, 263, 270, 389, 544 Greek Orthodox Patriarchate of Jerusalem, 6, 8, 148, 259, 400 Greek Resistance, 186

Index

817

Gregorian University in Rome, 25, 33, 700 Gregorios, (Abd al-Jaleel) Patriarch (Patriarchate of Jerusalem), 567 Gregorios, Archbishop of Thyateira (Ecumenical Patriarchate), 544 Gregorios, (Gevargheese Parapallil) Catholicos (Jacobite Syrian Christian Church), 584 Gregorios, (Yohanna Ibrahim) Archbishop of Aleppo (Syriac Orthodox Church), 5, 556 Grigore, (Maior) Bishop (Romanian Greek Catholic Church), 658–9 Grigorije, (Durić) Bishop of ZahumHerzegovina (Serbian Orthodox Church), 79–80, 83–4, 87 Grigorios, Bishop of Mesaoria (Orthodox Church of Cyprus), 168 Grigoriy, Metropolitan of Veliko Tarnovo (Bulgarian Orthodox Church), 127, 138 Groza, Petru, 668, 670 Guliako, Leonid, 340 Gurie, (Grosu) Archbishop of Chişinău and Hotin (Romanian Orthodox Church), 403 Gyulov, Fr Damian, 688

History of Religions and Cults in Macedonia Group, 431 Hirvoja, Archpriest Toomas, 305 Holy Cross Greek Orthodox School of Theology, 264 Holy Order of MANS, 268 Holy Orthodox Church in North America (United States), 7, 146–7, 252 Holy Resurrection Cathedral in Tokyo, 446 Holy Trinity Church, Vilnius, 364 Home for Cooperation (H4C), 171 Hong Kong, 5, 33, 440, 444–6, 449, 462 Hoppe, Lynette, 235 Hristo, (Nikolov Proykov) Exarch (Bulgarian Eastern Catholic Church), 699–700 Hryhorii, (Khomyshyn) Bishop (Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church), 627 Humanist Party of Moldova, 412 Hungarian Greek Catholic Church, 9, 17, 704–20 Hungary, 4–20, 30, 490, 633, 640, 656, 657, 665–6, 669 Huntington, Samuel, 766 Huttunen, Heikki, 299

Hackel, Fr Sergei, 725 Hailemelakot, Dragon, 508 Halki Theological School, 25, 27, 33 Halkiopoulos, Archimandrite Andrew, 448 Hare Krishna, 50 Haskins, Ekaterina V., 39 Hassun, Archbishop Antoni (Armenian Catholic Church), 682 Havel, Václav, 240 Heber, Ion, 670 Heljas, Ann-Mari, 298 Hellenic League for Human Rights, 194 Heydrich, Reinhardt, 242 Hieronymos II (Liapis) Metropolitan of Thebes and Levadeia / Archbishop (Orthodox Church of Greece), 181, 195–204 Hilarion, (Alfeyev) Metropolitan of Volokolamsk (Russian Orthodox Church), 15, 303, 359, 394–5 Hilarion, (Kapral) Metropolitan Russian Orthodox Church outside Russia), 449, 464 Hirschmann, Charles, 727

Iakovos, (Coucouzes) Archbishop (Greek Orthodox Archdiocese of America), 265, 270 Ideological and Cultural Revolution (Albania), 231 Ignatios, (Georgakopoulos) Metropolitan (Orthodox Church of Greece), 190 Ignjatije, (Midić) Bishop (Serbian Orthodox Church), 83 Ihor, (Yuriy Isichenko) (Kharkiv and Poltava Ukrainian Autocephalous Orthodox Church), 318, 322–3 Ilia, (Katre) Bishop (Albanian Orthodox Diocese of America / Ecumenical Patriarchate), 233 Ilia II, (Šiolašvili) Catholicos-Patriarch (Georgian Orthodox Church), 140, 142–3, 146, 148, 150–3 Iliescu, Ion, 99–100 Iliev, Dimitar, 690–1 Illinois, 255, 458 Imre, (Timkó) Bishop (Hungarian Greek Catholic Church), 708–9 Imvros, 25, 33

818

Index

Ingles, Ramiro Moliner Archbishop, Apostolic Nuncio in Addis Ababa, 510 India, 8, 17, 254, 267–8, 460–2, 465, 472, 490, 509, 545, 558, 563–97, 602–3, 615, 740 Initiative Group for the Defence of Believers and the Church in Ukraine, 640 Innocent, (Figurovsky) Archbishop (Orthodox Church in China), 442, 444 Inochentie, (Micu Klein) Bishop (Romanian Greek Catholic Church), 658, 664–5, 673 Inokentij, (Valerii Fedorovicz Vasiljev) Archbishop (Orthodox Church in Lithuania / Russian Orthodox Church), 363–6 Inokentiy, Metropolitan of Sofia (Bulgarian Orthodox Church), 118–20, 128 Institute of Bibliography of the Latvian National Library, 378 Institute of National History in Skopje, 431 Institute of Oriental Studies, Gregorian University, Rome, 25, 33 Institute of Orthodox Christian Studies in Melbourne, 462 Institute of Religious Freedom in Ukraine, 320 Inter-Religious Council of Russia, 50 International Commission for AnglicanOrthodox Theological Dialogue, 27 International Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia, 75 International Orthodox Christian Charities, 270 International Social Survey Programme, 163, 375 Învățătura creștinească, 663 Ioan, (Bălan) Bishop of Lugoj (Romanian Greek Catholic Church), 668 Ioan, (Bob) Bishop (Romanian Greek Catholic Church), 661–2 Ioan, (Dragomir) Bishop (Romanian Greek Catholic Church), 671 Ioan, (Lemeni) Bishop (Romanian Greek Catholic Church), 658–9, 662 Ioan, (Ploscariu) Bishop (Romanian Greek Catholic Church), 671 Ioan, (Suciu) Bishop (Romanian Greek Catholic Church), 668–9

Ioan, (Vancea) Metropolitan (Romanian Greek Catholic Church), 662 Ioann, (Snychev), Metropolitan (Russian Orthodox Church), 56 Ioannidis, Colonel Dimitrios, 183 Iosif, (Pop Szilagyi) Bishop of Oradea (Romanian Greek Catholic Church), 662 Iosyf, (Slipyi) Metropolitan / Cardinal (Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church), 627, 633, 639–40, 643 Ipatievsky Monastery, 46 Iran, 148, 487, 490, 602–3, 609–10, 614–15, 617 Iraq, 162, 290, 453, 460, 463, 490, 525, 542, 544–56, 559, 601–20, 731 Ireney, (Bekish) Archbishop of Tokyo / Metropolitan (Russian Archdiocese of North America / Orthodox Church in America), 445, 448 Irinej, (Bulović) Bishop of Novi Sad (Serbian Orthodox Church), 74 Irinej, (Dobrilović), Metropolitan of Australia and New Zealand (Serbian Orthodox Church), 458, 463–4 Irinej, (Gavrilović) Patriarch (Serbian Orthodox Church), 79–81, 87–8 Isaiah, Metropolitan of Tamasos and Orineia (Orthodox Church of Cyprus), 164 Istina, 302, 687–8, 693 István, (Miklósy) Bishop (Hungarian Greek Catholic Church), 707 Italo-Albanian Byzantine Catholic Church, 9 Iuliu, (Hossu) Bishop (Romanian Greek Catholic Church), 665, 667 Ivan, (Garufalov) Apostolic Exarch (Bulgarian Eastern Catholic Church), 687–9, 691, 695 Ivan, (Liatyshevsky) Bishop (Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church), 627, 639 Ivanov, Gjorgje, 429 Jackson–Vanik Amendment to the Trade Act (1974), 759–60 Jacobite Syrian Christian Church (The Malankara Jacobite Syrian Orthodox Church), 8, 584–5 Jānis, (Garklāvs) Bishop (Russian Orthodox Church / Latvian Orthodox Church in Exile / Orthodox Church in America), 380

Index Jānis, (Pommers) Archbishop (Latvian Orthodox Church), 371–2 Janjić, Sava, 74 Janka, György, 710 Jehovah’s Witnesses, 124, 147, 186, 205, 248, 399, 438, 471, 507, 754–5, 761, 765, 768, 770 Jeremiasz, (Anchimiuk) Bishop of Wrocław and Szczecin (Polish Orthodox Church), 220, 222 Joachim III, Ecumenical Patriarch (Ecumenical Patriarchate), 784 Johannes, (Rinne) Archbishop (Finnish Orthodox Church) locum tenens (Estonian Apostolic Orthodox Church), 3–4, 282–6, 289, 299, 306 John, (Maximovich) Bishop of Shanghai (Orthodox Church of China), 446 John, (Mitropolsky) Bishop (Orthodox Church in America), 258 Joint International Commission for Theological Dialogue between the Catholic Church and the Orthodox Church, 13, 50, 169, 284, 739 Joint Working Group between the World Council of Churches and the Catholic Church, 13, 284 Joseph III Younan, Ignatius (Ephrem Joseph Yonan) (Syrian Catholic Church), 550, 558 Josif, (Sokolski), Bishop (Bulgarian Eastern Catholic Church), 682–3 Jovan, (Pavlović) Metropolitan of Zagreb (Serbian Orthodox Church), 71, 74 Jovan (Vraniškovski) Metropolitan of Vardar (Serbian Orthodox Church) Metropolitan of of Povardarska-Veles (Macedonian Orthodox Church), 86, 428 Józef, (Glemp) Cardinal Archbishop (Primate of the Roman Catholic Church in Poland), 214, 217, 222 Jurca, Fr Eugen, 97 Justin, (Moisescu) Patriarch (Romanian Orthodox Church), 672 Justinian, (Marina) Patriarch (Romanian Orthodox Church), 104, 667–71 Justinian, (Ovchinnikov) Bishop of the Tiraspol and Dubossar Diocese (Russian Orthodox Church / Transnistria), 415–16

819

Kafarov, Archimandrite Palladii, 441 Kalistrate, Catholicos-Patriarch (Georgian Orthodox Church), 667 Kang, Fr John, 448 Karadžić, Radovan, 71–2, 79 Kardelj, Edvard, 68 Karekin I, (Sarkissian) Catholicos of Cilicia (Armenian Apostolic Church), 479, 487 Karekin II, (Garegin Nersisyan) Catholicos of Cilicia / Catholicos of All Armenians (Armenian Apostolic Church), 480–2, 487–8 Karelia, 280–1 Kärkkäinen, Tapani, 286 Karlovtsy Synod (Russian Orthodox Church outside Russia), 261 Karlovy Vary, 30, 244, 246 Karpov, Georgii, 41, 632, 651 Kazan Theological Academy, 259 Kedrovsky, John, 261 KENTHEA, 164 Kenya, 237, 502 Keres, Gabriel, 300 Keston News Service, 216, 298 Khlysty, 10 Khmelnytsky, Hetman Bohdan, 625 Kholmogorov, Egor, 45 Khoren, (Muradbekian) Catholicos of All Armenians (Armenian Apostolic Church), 474 Khrushchev, Nikita Sergeyevich, 38, 42, 139, 337, 355, 372, 454, 633, 640, 695 Kruzhkov, Archpriest Simeon, 299, 309 Ki-Moon, Ban, 162 Kiflu, Naizghi, 508 Kim, Fr Alexei, 448 King Constantine of Greece, 262 King Henry VIII, 766 King Michael of Romania, 666 King Peter of Yugoslavia, 458 King Simeon Saxe-Coburg-Gotha, 118, 697 King Solomon, 498 King Tiridates III, 472 Kiril, Metropolitan of Varna Vratsa (Bulgarian Orthodox Church), 126–9 Kiril (Kostadin Markov), Patriarch (Bulgarian Orthodox Church), 123–4, 136 Kiril, (Kurtev) Exarch (Bulgarian Eastern Catholic Church), 685–7, 691, 695 Kiriljuk, Fr. Nikolay,

820

Index

Kirill, (Vladimir Mikhailovich Gundiaev) Patriarch (Russian Orthodox Church), 5, 29, 44–5, 57–8, 60, 302–3, 319, 393, 410–11, 413, 415, 644, 723, 725–7, 730 Kirion II (Sażaglišvili), CatholicosPatriarch (Georgian Orthodox Church), 141 Kiro, (Stojanov) Monsignor (Catholic Church in Macedonia), 433 Kliment, Metropolitan of Tarnovo (Bulgarian Orthodox Church), 697 Klinger, Michał, 220 Kljusev, Nikola, 427 Koch, Cardinal Kurt (President of the Pontifical Council for Promoting Christian Unity), 509 Kochetkov, Fr Georgii, 55 Kodiak Island, 251, 256, 258 Kolarov, Vassil, 689–90, 692–3 Kollonich, Cardinal Leopold, 657 Komarov, Konstantin, 444 Kondov, Fr Hristofor, 685 Kornilii, (Vyacheslav Jakobs) Metropolitan of Tallinn (Estonian Orthodox Church of the Moscow Patriarchate), 297–300, 304, 307 Korpela, Jukka, 286 Kosovo, 11–12, 67–9, 73–5, 78, 80, 85, 88–9, 188, 457, 463 Kosovo Liberation Army, 73 Kostelnyk, Fr Havryil, 627, 633–4, 651 Kosteņecka, Marina, 374 Kostov, Ivan, 117, 133 Koštunica, Vojislav, 75, 78 Kotliarov, Igor, 340 Kozarov, Fr Josafat, 685 Kravchuk, Leonid, 314–17 Krivokapić, Ranko, 85 Kryštof, (Radim Pulec) Metropolitan (Orthodox Church of the Czech Lands and Slovakia), 244, 246–7 Kucher, Archimandrite Petr, 55 Kuchma, Leonid, 316–17, 320 Kukov, Fr Simeon, 695 Kursk submarine, 55 Kwaśniewski, Aleksander, 220, 222, 225 Kyiv International Institute of Sociology, 315 Kyiv Theological Academy, 259 Kykkos Cultural Foundation, 170 Kykkos Monastery, 170, 172, 176 Kyrillos, Bishop (Eritrean Orthodox Tewahedo Church), 506

Kysil, Fr Mykhailo, 637 Kyu, Fr. Daniel Na Chang, 448 L’Aquila, 170 Lake Ladogan islands, 281 László, (Atanáz Orosz) Bishop and Apostolic Exarch of Miskolc (Hungarian Greek Catholic Church), 713–14 Latvia, 296, 370–86, 408, 741 Latvian Evangelical Lutheran Church, 381 Latvian First Party (Latvijas Pirmā Partija), 381, 386 Latvian Orthodox Church, 7, 296, 370–86 Latvian Orthodox Church in Exile, 380–1 Latvian Popular Front, 374 Lavr, (Shkurla) Metropolitan of New York and Eastern America (Russian Orthodox Church Abroad), 52 Lautsi v. Italy, 51 Lazar, (Gurkin) Bishop of Narva (Estonian Orthodox Church of the Moscow Patriarchate), 304 Lazar, (Mladenov) Bishop (Bulgarian Eastern Catholic Church), 683 Lebanon, 8, 159, 267, 453, 460, 463, 464, 473, 486–90, 496–7, 542, 545, 547–51, 555–6, 559, 602–3, 607–9, 615, 617, 740, 748 Leftsenko, Jonah, 447 Legoida, Vladimir, 57 Lenin, Vladimir Ilyich, 41 Leningrad State Television, 23 Leo, (Makkonen) Archbishop (Finnish Orthodox Church), 179, 283, 285, 288–9 Leonid, (Polyakov), Metropolitan of Riga (Latvian Orthodox Church / Russian Orthodox Church), 373–4, 382 Leontiev, Fr Maxim, 440–1 Lepin, Fr Sergiy, 348 Lesná Monastery, France, 52, 244 Lewandowska, Ewa, 218 Liaison Office of the Orthodox Church to the European Union, 15 Life magazine, 263, 277 Liolin, Very Reverend Arthur, 232 Lipovan Orthodox Old-Rite Church, 9 Lishchenyuk, Nikolaj, 246 Litvinko, Fr Vasiliy, 343

Index Liubomyr, (Huzar) Cardinal (Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church), 642, 646–7 Locke, John, 766 Logos magazine, 286 London, 242, 256, 381, 397, 503, 506, 544–5, 551–2, 583, 603, 609–10, 613–14, 616–17 London School of Economics and Political Science, 29 Louth, Fr Andrew, 18 Lubomyr, (Husar) Archbishop Cardinal (Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church), 319, 329 Lucian, (Mureșan) Metropolitan / Cardinal (Romanian Greek Catholic Church), 672–4 Lucian, (Triteanul) Bishop (Romanian Orthodox Church), 666 Lucinschi, Petru, 4, 416 Ludwell III, Philip, 256 Lukashenko, Alexander, 342, 345–6, 349 Lukšić, Igor, 85 Lupu, Marian, 413 Luzhkov, Yuri, 38, 43 Maastricht Treaty, 15 Macedonian Orthodox Church – Ohrid Archbishopric, 2–4, 6–7, 16–17, 80, 85–6, 393, 426–38, 453–8, 463 Macedonian Orthodox Church: American Diocese, 252 Madli, 151, 153, 159 Magyari, Márta, 710 Mahibere Kahinat, 514 Mahibere Kidusan association, 504, 510, 512 Maior, Petru, 664–5 Makarii, (Oksiiuk) Archbishop of the Lviv-Ternopil and MukachevoUzhhorod (Ukraine), 627 Makarios, Bishop in the USA (Eritrean Orthodox Tewahedo Church), 506 Makarios III, (Mouskos) Archbishop (Orthodox Church of Cyprus), 161, 170 Malabar Independent Syrian Church, 8 Malankara Archdiocese of the Syrian Orthodox Church (United States), 254, 557, 585 Malankara (Indian) Orthodox Syrian Church (United States), 254, 268 Malankara Orthodox Syrian Church (Indian Orthodox Church or

821

Orthodox Syrian Church of the East), 8, 587, 596–7 Malik, Charles, 159 Mankin, Fr Flavian, 688 Mar Thoma Syrian Church of Malabar, 8, 587–8 Mardin Artuklu Üniversitesi, 543 Margvelashvili, Giorgia, 145 Marko Monastery, 432 Markos, Bishop in London (Eritrean Orthodox Tewahedo Church), 506 Marković, Marko S., 70 Marković, Mira, 70 Marku, Fr Nikolla, 234 Markus, Vasyl, 628, 631 Maronite Catholic Church, 9, 172, 176, 460–1, 748, 750 Martos, Afanasiy, 335 Maskevich, Sergei, 342 Masters, Bruce, 522 Mathias, Catholicos-Patriarch (Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church), 512–14 Matić, Veran, 78 Maxim, (Marin Naydenov Minkov) Patriarch (Bulgarian Orthodox Church), 116–28, 130–1, 133, 697 Maxim, (Pliakin), Deacon, 55 Mazeppa, Hetman Ivan, 316 Mazowiecki, Tadeusz, 217–18 Mazzoli, Archbishop Giuseppe (Apostolic Delegate to Bulgaria), 689 Medvedev, Dmitry Anatolyevich, 39 Mefodiy, (Valeriy Andriyovich Kudryakov) Metropolitan (Ukrainian Autocephalous Orthodox Church), 318, 322–3, 466 Melchisedek, Bishop (Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church), 502 Meletios IV, (Emmanuel Metaxakis), Archbishop / Patriarch (Greek Orthodox Archdiocese of North and South America / Ecumenical Patriarchate), 262, 264 Melkite Greek Catholic Church, 9, 460–1 Menelik I, 498 Menelik II, 498 Mengistu, Haile Mariam, 454, 460 Menil, Dominique de, 172 Merkhazion, Teklemariam, 508 Merkurios, Abune Catholicos-Patriarch (Ethiopian Orthodox Tawahedo Church / Ethiopian Orthodox

822

Index

Tawahedo Church in Exile), 502, 509, 513–14 Meshcherinov, Hegumen Petr, 55 Mesrob II, (Mutafyan) Patriarch of Constantinople (Armenian Apostolic Church), 488–90 Messerschmidt, Morten, 169 Metodii, (Stratiev) Exarch (Bulgarian Eastern Catholic Church), 699 Metodij, (Metodij Zlatanov) Metropolitan (Macedonian Orthodox Church), 434 Metropolitan Church of Bessarabia (Romanian Orthodox Church), 4, 7, 14, 53, 387–8, 394, 402–25 Metropolitanate of Chişinău and All Moldova (Russian Orthodox Church), 4, 7, 61, 402–25 Meyendorff, John, 443, 725 Micu, Samuil, 664–5 Middle East Council of Churches, 13, 489, 533, 557, 614 Mihail, (Metodij Gogov) Archbishop (Macedonian Orthodox Church), 2–3, 427–8, 436 Mihail, (Mirov), Archbishop (Bulgarian Eastern Catholic Church), 683–5 Mihail, (Petkov) Bishop (Bulgarian Eastern Catholic Church), 683–5 Mihailović, General Draža, 458 Miklós, (Dudás) Bishop (Hungarian Greek Catholic Church), 708 Mileševo, 82 Millet, 114, 521–3, 530, 532, 537, 681–3, 686, 762, 764, 767 Milošević, Slobodan, 11, 67, 70, 72, 74, 87 Mindszenty, Cardinal József, Archbishop of Esztergom (Catholic Church in Hungary), 708 Minsk Theological Academy, 348 Misijuk, Vladimir, 224 Mitrofanov, Fr Georgii, 55 Mkalavishvili, Fr. Basil, 147 Mladenov, Petar, 696 Moldavian Soviet Socialist Republic, 403, 418 Moldova, 4, 14, 17, 53, 103–4, 241, 295, 305, 388–9, 392, 394–5, 399, 402–25, 723, 755, 782–3 Molokans, 10 Monastery of the Holy Cross (Jerusalem), 148

Monastery of the Holy Mother of God in Strumica village, Veljusa, 431 Monastery of the Holy Trinity, Blaj, 659 Monastic Community of Mount Athos, 6, 49, 124, 148, 183, 188, 201, 204, 431, 747 Montenegrin Orthodox Church, 3, 7, 70, 85, 88 Moon, Fr Boris, 448 Moraru, Vichente, 404 Morei, Ion, 406 Moscow Theological Academy, 247, 322, 350, 398 Mourtos, Archimandrite Jonah George (Lee Liang San Fu), 445 Mubarak, Hosni, 506, 521, 524, 528–32, 534, 536 Murtazin, Marat, 47 Mstyslav, (Skrypnyk) Bishop / Metropolitan / Patriarch (Ukrainian Autocephalous Orthodox Church / Ukrainian Orthodox Church Kyiv Patriarchate / Ukrainian Orthodox Church of the United States), 313, 315, 318, 323 Mykhail, (Melnyk) Bishop (Ukraianian Greek Catholic Church), 627 Mykola, (Charnetsky), Bishop (Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church), 627, 639 Mykyta, (Budka) Bishop (Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church), 627 Myroslav, (Ivan Liubachivsky) Cardinal (Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church), 642, 646 Nagorno-Karabakh, 387, 475 Nagymihályi, Géza, 710 Natanail, Metropolitan of Nevrokop (Bulgarian Orthodox Church), 126–7, 138 National Confederation of Labour ‘Podkrepa’, 121 National Committee of Byzantine Rite Catholic Hungarians, 706 National Council for the Study of the Securitate Archives, 95–7, 669 National Minorities Election Bloc, 221 National Syndicate of Priests and Church Servants (Bulgaria), 121 Naum, (Zvonimir Ilievski) Bishop (Macedonian Orthodox Church), 431, 434

Index Nektarios, (Tsilis) Metropolitan of Hong Kong and Southeast Asia (Ecumenical Patriarchate), 446 Neo-orthodox, 174 Neophyte, (Simeon Nikolov Dimitrov) Metropolitan of Russe / Patriarch (Bulgarian Orthodox Church), 129–31 Neophytos, Bishop of Morphou (Orthodox Church of Cyprus), 174 Nestor, (Zakkis) Bishop (Orthodox Church in America), 258 Nestorius, Patriarch (Ecumenical Patriarchate), 439–40 New Athos Monastery, Abkhazia, 13, 392–4, 397 New Neamţ Monastery, Transnistria, 13, 404 New Orleans, 257 New Valaam Monastery, Heinävesi, 13, 288 New York, 52, 124, 252–5, 258, 262–3, 268, 278, 488–90, 511, 549, 556, 583, 754, 768, 770 Ngjallja, 236–7 Nicolae, (Bălan) Metropolitan of Transylvania (Romanian Orthodox Church), 671 Nicolae, (Corneanu) Metropolitan of Banat (Romanian Orthodox Church), 95–7 Nicosia, 165, 171, 173 Niessen, James, 710 Nikhon, Patriarch (Russian Orthodox Church), 9, 370 Nikolaj, (Mikuláš Kocvár) Metropolitan (Orthodox Church of the Czech Lands and Slovakia), 247 Nikolaj, (Mrđa) Metropolitan of DabarBosna (Serbian Orthodox Church), 86 Nikolaj, (Velimirović), Bishop (Serbian Orthodox Church), 70, 75–6 Nikolas, (Kasatkin) Bishop (Russian Orthodox Church in Japan), 446–7 Nikiforos, Bishop of Kykkos (Orthodox Church of Cyprus), 163 Nikitas, (Lulias) Metropolitan of Hong Kong and Southeast Asia (Ecumenical Patriarchate), 445 Nikolaeva, Olesia, 151 Nikolay, Metropolitan of Plovdiv (Bulgarian Orthodox Church), 123–4, 128, 138

823

Nikon, Bishop (Albanian Archdiocese of the Orthodox Church in America), 234 Nil, (Izvorov) Bishop (Bulgarian Eastern Catholic Church), 683 NIN, 81 Niš, 80, 86, 88 Niš agreement, 428 Nizhny Novgorod, 377 North Atlantic Treaty Organization, 73, 78, 184, 188, 698, 771 North Korea and South Korea, 5, 8, 17, 33, 439–41, 447–50 Northern Bukovina, 402 Notre-Dame Cathedral in Paris, 51, 56 Novkovski, Nenad, 429 Obama, Barack, 27 Obraz, 70, 75 Odincov, Mihail, 372–3 Office of the Plenipotentiary Representative for Religious and Nationality Affairs, Belarus, 340 O’Hara, Gerald Patrick, 668 Old Believers, 9, 51, 328, 366, 371, 375, 382, 399 Old Calendar Bulgarian Orthodox Church, 9, 51, 328, 366, 371, 375, 382, 399 Old Calendar Orthodox Church of Greece (Holy Synod in Resistance), 5, 9, 158 Old Calendarists in Greece, 51, 147, 400 Old Rite Romanian Orthodox Church, 9 Old Ritualist Ancient Orthodox Christian Church in Russia, 9 Old Ritualist Church Belokrinitsa Concord in Russia, 9 Old Ritualist Church (Priestless) in Russia, 9 Old Ritualist Runaways in Russia, 9 Oleksandr, (Drabinko) Archbishop (Russian Orthodox Church), 314 Oleksy, Józef, 215 Olomouc, 242, 244, 247 O’Mahony, Anthony, 524, 610 Omonoia Square, Athens, 199 Orange Revolution, 320, 643–4, 646 Organisation of Ukrainian Nationalists, 626 Orientalium dignitas, 748–9 Orientalium Ecclesiarum, 705, 708 Ortaid, 285

824

Index

Orthodox Association of the Slavic National Minority of the Polish Republic, 223 Orthodox Autocephalous Church of Albania, 6, 12, 16, 173, 231–9 Orthodox Cathedral in Riga, 379 Orthodox Catholic Church of Portugal, 7, 224 Orthodox Christian Education Commission, 265 Orthodox Christian Mission Centre in the United States, 8, 270 Orthodox Church in Abkhazia, 5, 7, 13, 17, 148–9, 154, 387–401, 415 Orthodox Church in America, 4, 6, 25, 251–79, 783 Orthodox Church in China, 5, 7, 17, 258, 439–52, 459, 463 Orthodox Church in the Czech Lands and Slovakia, 4, 6, 16, 30, 240–50, 266, 693, 699 Orthodox Church in Italy, 7 Orthodox Church in Japan, 7, 17, 258, 439–52 Orthodox Church in Lithuania, 17, 215, 347, 351, 357–69, 408, 624, 741 Orthodox Church in Ossetia, 5, 17, 141, 148, 153, 387–401, 415 Orthodox Church in Transnistria, 5, 17, 387–401, 403–4, 407, 409, 414–19 Orthodox Church of Crete, 6, 31, 33, 204 Orthodox Church of Cyprus, 6, 15–16, 161–81, 266, 463, 487, 490 Orthodox Church of Greece, 6, 9, 15–16, 31, 87, 168, 181–209, 232, 259, 262, 397, 433, 455, 729, 731 Orthodox Church of Russia, 7, 52 Orthodox Electoral Committee, 3, 221 Orthodox Ohrid Archbishopric (Serbian Orthodox Church), 7, 427–8 Orthodox Russian Church (Renovationist Church or Living Church), 7, 54, 336, 352 Orthodox Seminary in Riga, 377 Orthodox Theological Faculty, Belgrade, 88, 226, 436 Orthodox Theological Faculty, Prešov, 242, 244, 247 Ortoboxi, 287 Özülker, Uluç, 26 Pacha, Bishop Augustin of Timişoara (Catholic Church in Romania), 670

Pahomie, (Catchich) Bishop (Serbian Orthodox Church), 428 Pahomije, (Gačić) Bishop (Serbian Orthodox Church), 83 Pan-Orthodox Council, 14, 31–2, 51, 117–18, 266, 393, 396, 733 Panhellenic Socialistic Movement, 182 Pancu, Filaret, 416 Pankratiy, Metropolitan (Bulgarian Orthodox Church – Alternative Synod), 127 Panteleimon, (Shatov) Archimandrite (Russian Orthodox Church), 57 Papademos, Loukas, 202 Papandreou, Andreas, 182, 184 Papandreou, George, 196 Papathomas, Grigorios, 300 Papkova, Irina, 43 Paprocki, Fr Henryk, 222 Parfeniyuk, Fr Evgeniy, 344 Paris, 34, 51, 56, 154, 306, 551, 582, 689–90, 699 Paris Peace Treaty (1947), 690, 699 Parliamentary Assembly of the Council of Europe, 119 Party for Justice, Integration and Unity (Albania), 235 Party of Communists of the Republic of Moldova, 407, 410 Pârvulescu, Cristian, 100 Pasat, Valeriu, 412–13 Păstoriceasca poslanie, 663 Patmos, 27, 34, 204, 284 Patriarchal Parishes of the Russian Orthodox Church in the United States, 252, 273–4, 277 Pauker, Ana, 667 Paul, (Yazigi) Metropolitan of Aleppo and Alexandretta (Greek Orthodox Patriarchate of Antioch), 5 Paulicians, 9 Paulos, (Gebre Yohannes) CatholicosPatriarch (Ethiopian Orthodox Tawahedo Church), 502–3, 506, 509–14 Pavle, (Stojcević) Bishop / Patriarch (Serbian Orthodox Church), 69–74, 79–80, 82, 87 Pavlin, (Kroshechkin) Archbishop of Mogilev (Belarusian Orthodox Church), 336 Peev, Mgr Vikentii (Catholic Church in Bulgaria), 685–6 People’s Christian-Democratic Party, Moldova, 407

Index Petar, Bishop (Free Serbian Orthodox Church), 458 Petar, (Jovan Karevski) Metropolitan of Prespa-Pelagonija (Macedonian Orthodox Church), 434–5, 457, 463 Péter, (Fülöp Kocsis) Bishop of Hajdúdorog (Hungarian Greek Catholic Church), 711, 713 Peter VIII Abdalahad, Ignatius (Peter Gregory Abdalahad) (Syrian Catholic Church), 558 Petrossian, Ter, 482–3 Petru, (Păduraru) Bishop (Russian Orthodox Church) Metropolitan of Bessarabia (Metropolitan Church of Bessarabia), 404–5, 417–18, 420 Petru, (Pavel Aron) Bishop (Romanian Greek Catholic Church), 659, 661, 663–4 Pew Forum on Religion and Public Life, 269 Philaret, (Kirill Vakhromeyev) Metropolitan (Belarusian Orthodox Church), 3, 337–9, 341–2, 344–5, 347, 350 Philaret, (Ramenskiy) Bishop (Belarusian Orthodox Church), 336 Philipos, Patriarch (Eritrean Orthodox Tewahedo Church), 506, 513 Pilipkó, Erzbébet, 710 Pimen, Metropolitan of Nevrokop (Bulgarian Orthodox Church – Alternative Synod), 117–18, 127, 132–3 Pimen, (Sotir Ilievski) Bishop (Macedonian Orthodox Church), 430, 435 Platon, (Kulbusch) Bishop of Tallinn (Estonian Apostolic Orthodox Church), 309 Platon, (Rozhdestvenskii) Metropolitan (United States), 261 Płaźyński, Maciej, 225 Pobedonostsev, Konstantin, 40 Policarp, (Moruşcă) Bishop in the United States (Romanian Orthodox Church), 263 Polish Armed Forces, 223, 226 Polish Ecumenical Council, 212, 217, 220 Polish Orthodox Church, 3–4, 6, 16, 180, 210–30, 266, 336 Pomorian Old-Orthodox Church, 9 Ponamarev, Aleksey, 381

825

Pope Benedict XVI, 27–8, 80, 169–70, 342, 433, 550–1, 558, 608–9, 642–3, 672, 674, 700, 714, 741, 751 Pope Francis I, 28 Pope John XXIII, 695 Pope Innocent XIII, 659 Pope John Paul I, 738 Pope John Paul II, 27, 32, 50–1, 103, 123, 188, 211, 213, 215, 217, 219, 484, 558, 590, 602, 610, 618, 633, 643, 671–2, 674, 697, 700, 709, 739, 741, 779 Pope Leo XIII, 706, 748 Pope Paul VI, 25, 738 Pope Pius IX, 662, 682, 701 Pope Pius X, 706 Pope Pius XI, 663 Pope Pius XII, 690–1, 738, 752 Pope Pius XIII, 687 Popescu-Tariceanu, Călin, 105 Popov, Fr Rafail, 683 Popović, Archimandrite Justin (Serbian Orthodox Church), 70, 72–3 Porfyrios, Bishop of Neapolis (Orthodox Church of Cyprus), 168 Porto Alegre, 13 Postolovski, Fr Branko, 434 Povniy, Fr Feodor, 345 Prekup, Fr Igor, 304 Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh, 31 Prodi, Romano, 32, 74 Progressive Party of Working People, Cyprus, 163 Proykov, Fr Hristo, 697 Przemyśl, 215, 624, 647 Przegląd Prawosławny, 216, 226 Pühtitsa Monastery, 297–8, 300, 304 Pukhate, Aleksandr, 391, 397 Puskás, Bernadett, 710 Puskás, László, 710 Pussy Riot, 59, 319 Pusztai, Bertalan, 710 Putin, Vladimir, 5, 11, 39, 44, 46, 48–9, 59, 319, 412–13, 459, 735 Puusaar, Samuel, 300 Qerlos, Metropolitan (Ethiopian Orthodox Tawahedo Church), 500 Queen Elizabeth II, 200, 544 Queen of Sheba, 498 Radio Free Europe, 97, 211 Radomislskiy, Fr Victor, 344

826

Index

Rafail, (Popov) Bishop (Bulgarian Eastern Catholic Church), 683 Raiser, Konrad, 220 Rajchica Monastery, 432 Ramet, Sabrina P., 211 Raphael, (Hawaweeny) Bishop (Orthodox Church in America), 259–60 Rasputin, Grigorii, 39, 55 Ražnjatović, Željko ‘Arkan’, 71 Red and Black Alliance (Albania), 235 Repo, Fr Mitro, 288 Representation of the Russian Orthodox Church in Czechia, 245–6 Representation of the Russian Orthodox Church in Strasburg, 15 Representation of the Orthodox Church of Greece in Brussels, 190 Republika Srpska, 71, 80, 84, 86–7 Rerum Novarum, 44 ‘Resurrection of Christ’ Theological Academy, St Vlash Monastery, Durrës, 12, 233, 235 ‘Resurrection of Christ’ Orthodox Cathedral, Tiranë, 234 Ribbentrop-Molotov Protocol (1939), 388, 402, 405 Richmond, Bishop Henry (Church of England), 224 Riga Treaty (1921), 336 Rila Monastery, 120 Rimashevskiy, Vitaliy, 344 Rodionov, Evgenii, 54–5 Rokita, Jan Maria, 214–15, 219 Roman Catholic Church, 25–8, 32, 44, 50–1, 56, 83, 94, 98, 101, 104, 109, 123, 144–6, 169, 176, 185, 198, 201, 204, 210–16, 219–25, 238, 243, 246, 260, 271, 276, 290, 319–20, 325, 342, 351, 366, 377, 381, 383, 423, 433, 437, 440, 460, 472–3, 489, 566, 583, 585, 593, 602, 610, 625–6, 631, 656–9, 661, 663, 665, 667, 669–70, 674, 684, 690, 697, 704–9, 712, 715, 737–53, 757, 760, 765, 776, 778–9, 787, 789 Romanian Greek Catholic Church, 9, 11, 17, 94, 109, 656–80 Romanian Orthodox Church, 1–2, 6, 10, 15–16, 53, 94–113, 263, 387, 402–3, 405–8, 414–18, 462–3, 465, 657–8, 662, 665–8, 671, 673 Romanian Orthodox Archdiocese in Americas (Romanian Orthodox Church), 252

Romanian Orthodox Episcopate in the United States, 273 Romanian Revolution, 1–2 Romanov Dynasty, 40, 440, 625 Roncalli, Archbishop Angelo Giuseppe (Apostolic Visitor to Bulgaria), 685 Rose Revolution, 144, 151 Rotonda, 186 Rožnov pod Radhoštěm, 242 Rugova, Ibrahim, 73 Runciman, Sir Steven, 185 Rupishev, Fr Pontii, 364 Rus, Ioan Aurel, 99 Russian Ecclesiastical Mission, Beijing, 441 Russian Orthodox Church, 4–7, 10–17, 25, 30, 32, 38–66, 80, 87, 141, 146, 148, 211, 224, 241, 244–6, 248, 252–3, 257, 261–2, 265–6, 270, 273–4, 280–2, 296, 302–5, 307, 312–13, 316, 319, 321–2, 335, 337–8, 346, 350, 361, 365–6, 370, 379, 387, 402, 405, 407, 410–11, 413–14, 416–18, 429, 442, 458, 464, 509, 627–8, 630–2, 634, 637–41, 667, 725–32, 738, 751, 780–1, 783, 785–6, 790 Russian Orthodox Church Abroad (also known as the Russian Orthodox Church outside Russia), 4–5, 7, 14, 44, 47, 146, 224, 253, 261, 270, 273–4, 319, 328, 391, 449, 459, 464, 726, 734 Russian Orthodox Church Abroad – Vitalii, 52 Russian Orthodox Church in America, 7 Russian Orthodox Diocese of Great Britain and Ireland Sourozh, 725 Russian Revolution (1917), 4, 447 Russo-Japanese War, 39 Ruthenian Byzantine Catholic Church, 9 Rüütel, Arnold, 302 Saakashvili, Mixeil, 144–5 Sadat, Anwar, 524, 531 Schmemann, Fr Alexander, 265, 441, 792 Schmit, Nina, 726 Schubert, Iosif, 670 Sąjūdis, 359 Salama, Bishop (Eritrean Orthodox Tewahedo Church), 506 Samizdat, 141 Sandzhakovski, Fr Stephan, 429, 431 Santer, Jacques, 32 Sarafov, Konstantin, 689

Index Sarapik, Deacon Aivar, 298, 309 Sârbu, Ilie, 99 Savissaar, Edgar, 304 Savva, (Volkov) Bishop of Transnistria (Russian Orthodox Church), 398, 415 Sawa, (Michał Hrycuniak) Metropolitan (Polish Orthodox Church), 215, 221, 223–4, 226 Schengen Convention, 186, 731 Second Vatican Council, 13, 25, 33, 284, 556, 643, 695, 705, 708, 738, 749, 751 Sejm, 212–13, 223, 225 Selassie, Bereket Habte, 505 Serapheim, (Mentzelopoulos) Metropolitan of Piraeus (Orthodox Church of Greece), 200 Serapheim, (Tikas) Archbishop (Orthodox Church of Greece), 181–7, 203 Seraphim, (Belonozhko) Bishop (Belarusian Orthodox Church), 347 Seraphim, Bishop of Sendai (Orthodox Church of Japan), 447–8 Seraphim, Metropolitan (Coptic Orthodox Church), 544 Serapion, (Fadeev) Metropolitan of Chişinău (Russian Orthodox Church), 388 Serbian Academy of Science and Art, 71 Serbian Orthodox Church, 4, 6–7, 11, 15–16, 67–93, 253, 260, 272–4, 393, 400, 426–9, 457–8, 462–3, 666, 782, 784 Serbian Orthodox Church in North America (Serbian Orthodox Church), 253 Serbian Orthodox Grammar School in Zagreb, 86 Sergei, Hegumen of the New Valaam Monastery at Heinävesi, 288 Sergii, (Voznesenskii) Archbishop / Exarch of the Orthodox Church in the Ostland (Russian Orthodox Church), 296 Sergii, (Stragorodskii) Metropolitan (Patriarch) (Russian Orthodox Church), 41, 52, 296, 336 Šešelj, Vojislav, 76 Severinets, Pavel, 343–4 Shargunov, Fr Alexandr, 55 Sharia, 524, 526, 534 Shehtkofsky, Fr Chyrsanthos, 447 Shenouda III, (Nazir Gayed) Pope and Patriarch (Coptic Orthodox Church),

827

461, 506, 521, 523–4, 526–30, 532, 534, 536–8, 602 Sheptytsky, Archimandrite Klymentii, 634 Shevardnadze, Eduard Ambrosiyevich, 142–4, 148, 157–8 Shevchenko, Taras, 314, 316 Shimbaliov, Fr Alexander, 343–4, 346, 349 Shipu, Fr Gregory Zhu, 444 Shishkov, Fr Josafat, 694 Shtilmark, Alexandr, 56 Shtundists, 40 Shushkevich, Stanislav, 214 Sibiu, 1, 108 Simeon, Metropolitan of the Western and Central European Diocese (Bulgarian Orthodox Church), 124, 127–8, 137–8 Simeon, (Radivoj Jakovlevič) Archbishop (Orthodox Church of the Czech Lands and Slovakia), 244 Simitis, Costas, 186, 188, 192 Șincai, Gheorghe, 664 Skopje, 86, 427, 429, 431, 433, 436, 457, 683 Skoptsy, 10 Slovak Greek Catholic Church, 9 Slovak Evangelical Church, 77 Smirnov, Fr Dmitrii, 55 Smirnov, Igor, 414–15 Smolensk Military Academy of AntiAircraft Defence, 48 Snegur, Mircea, 405 Social Democratic Party of Montenegro, 85 Society of Hungarian Greek Catholics, 706 Sofia Centre for Religious Studies and Consultations ‘St. Cyril and St. Methodius’, 123 Solari, Cinzia, 727–8 Solidarity (Poland), 211–12, 216–17, 220 Solovetskii Monastery, 57 Sotirios, (Trambas) Metropolitan of Korea (Ecumenical Patriarchate), 449 Sourozh, 222 South Ossetia, 5, 17, 141, 148, 153, 387–401, 415 St Afanasii Monastery, Syktyvkar, 52 St Andrew the First-Called Georgian University in Tbilisi, 149

828

Index

St Andrew’s Greek Orthodox Theological College in Sydney, 455, 462 St Catherine’s Cathedral in Rome, 728 St Clement of Ohrid Cathedral in Skopje, 427 Sts Cyril and Methodius Cathedral in Prague, 244 St Demetrius Church, Skopje, 429 St George Church in Krivi Dol, 429 St George Church in Melbourne, 434 St George Albanian Orthodox Cathedral in Boston, 234 St Gregory of Nazianzus, 27 St Gregory the Illuminator, 472 St Ignatius of Antioch, 13, 28, 561 Sts Ivan, Antony, and Eustachius, 363 St Herman of Alaska, 257, 275 St John Chrysostom, 27, 362, 706, 709 St John Chrysostom Monastery, Cyprus, 173 St John the Theologian Church in Moscow, 46 St Mark Cathedral in Abbasiya, 514 St Mary’s Cathedral, Shanghai, 443 St Mary Church, Grabarka, 215–16, 228 St Mary Church, Elbasan, 234 St Mary Magdalene Convent, Vilnius, 363, 366 St Matrona of Moscow, 55 St Michael Archangel Monastery in Varosh, Prilep, 431 St Naum Monastery, Ohrid, 432, 436 St Nicholas Church, Nariqala Fortress, Tbilisi, 143 St Nicolas Church, Nice, 53 St Nicolas Convent, Mukachevo, 627 St Onufry and the Holy Virgin of Jableczna Church, 217 St Platon Seminary of Tallinn, 12, 300 St Petersburg, 60, 256, 259, 334, 347, 361, 418, 625 St Sava Cathedral, Belgrade, 74 St Sophia Church, Ohrid, 428 St Steven’s Church, Addis Ababa, 503 St Tikhon Orthodox Humanitarian University, 362 St Tikhon Orthodox Theological Institute in Moscow, 362 St Thomas Evangelical Church (India), 10, 568, 589 St Vitus Day, 78 St Vladimir the Great, 624

St Vladimir’s Orthodox Theological Seminary, 264 Stalin, Iosif, 10, 41, 55, 153, 232, 314, 336, 372, 390, 395, 406, 408, 474, 631, 670, 764 Stamatov, Fr. Tome, 434 Standard, 79 Standing Conference of Canonical Orthodox Bishops in the Americas, 265 Standing Conference of Canonical Orthodox Churches in Australia, 462 Stanislav, (Hočevar) Archbishop (Roman Catholic Church in Serbia), 77 Stanisław, (Szmecki) Archbishop (Roman Catholic Church in Poland), 214 State security services, 10–11, 125–6, 129, 142, 313, 359, 361, 372, 415, 474, 627, 668 State Tretiakov Gallery, 46 Stavrovouni Monastery, 169 Stawicki, Stanislaw, 215 Staynov, Petko, 689 Stefan, (Stojan Veljanovski) Metropolitan (Macedonian Orthodox Church), 432, 436 Stefan, (Stoyan Popgeorgiev) Metropolitan (Exarch) (Bulgarian Orthodox Church), 124, 136 Stylianos (Harkianakis), Archbishop (Greek Orthodox Archdiocese of Australia – Ecumenical Patriarchate), 455, 462–3 Steniaev, Fr Oleg, 55 Stephan, (Babaev) Bishop of St Petersburg and Northern Russia (Orthodox Church of Russia), 52 Stephanos, (Christakis Charalambides) Metropolitan of Tallinn (Estonian Apostolic Orthodox Church), 300, 302–3, 306 Stoian, Stanciu, 667, 670 Stoica, Fr Constantin, 98 Stoyanov, Peter, 117 Strak, Michal, 215 Stratiev, Mgr Metodii (Catholic Church in Bulgaria), 697 Struve, Nikita, 634 Sts Peter and Paul Church, Karlovy Vary, 244 Subotički, Predrag, 79

Index Suchocka, Hanna, 214, 219–20 Supraśl, 213–15 Suriel, Bishop of Melbourne (Coptic Orthodox Church), 461, 464 Suursööt, Nikolai, 298 Svatý Jan pod Skalou, 242 Svetogorec, Gavril, 431 Sviatoslav, (Shevchuk) Archbishop (Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church), 319, 642, 646–7 Sviderskiy, Fr Evgeniy, 348 Sweden, 30, 33, 297, 338, 381, 435, 490, 543, 548, 557–9, 603, 609, 615 Sydney, 453, 455, 457–66, 551, 558–9, 603, 615, 618 Symphonia, 11–12, 27, 29, 39, 45, 49, 67, 107–8, 757–9, 762–6 Syndesmos, 224, 302 Synodal Commission on Canonisation (Russia Orthodox Church), 55 Syrian Catholic Church, 9, 542, 549–62, 569, 571–3, 578–9, 602–3, 614 Syrian Orthodox Church, 8, 17, 254, 267, 278, 461, 463, 465, 542–62, 566–9, 573, 577, 584–6, 602–3, 730 Syrian (Syriac) Orthodox Church of Antioch (Archdiocese in the United States), 254 Syro-Malabar Catholic Church, 9, 568, 572, 577, 582–3 Syro-Malankara Catholic Church, 9, 569, 572, 589–90 Szabó, Irén, 710 Szilárd, (Keresztes) Bishop of Hajdúdorog and Apostolic Exarch of Miskolc (Hungarian Greek Catholic Church), 709, 713 Tadić, Boris, 78–80 Tadeusz, (Pieronek) Bishop (Roman Catholic Church in Poland), 217, 222 Tahrir Square, 529 Taiwan, 440, 445–6, 449 Takovski, Fr Jovan, 429, 431 Tănase, Laurenţiu, 101 Targmadze, Davit, 144 Tarnovo Constitution, 114, 130 Tataryn, Myroslav, 627 Tawadros II, (Waguih Sobhy Baqi Soliman) Pope (Coptic Orthodox Church), 532, 537 Taxpayer Identification Number, 54 Tbilisi, 140, 142–3, 147, 149–50, 390, 395

829

Teheran, 602, 609, 617 Tekle Haymanot, (Abba Malaku Wolde Mikael) Catholicos-Patriarch (Ethiopian Orthodox Tawahedo Church), 501–2, 506, 509, 513 Teoctist, (Arăpaşu) Patriarch (Romanian Orthodox Church), 3, 96, 102–5, 107–8, 137, 405, 669–70 Teodosije, (Šibalić) Abbot of Dečani monastery, Bishop (Serbian Orthodox Church), 74, 78 Teofil, (Herineanu), Bishop (Romanian Greek Catholic Church), 670–1 Teofil, Metropolitan (Romanian Greek Catholic Church), 657 Terelya, Iosyp, 640 Theophan III, Patriarch (Patriarchate of Jerusalem), 624 Teplova, Valentina, 335, 348 Tewoflos, Catholicos-Patriarch (Ethiopian Orthodox Tawahedo Church), 500–1, 506, 509 Theodore, (Rafalsky) Bishop (Russian Orthodox Church Abroad in Australia), 459 Theodoros II (Choreutakes), Patriarch (Greek Orthodox Patriarchate of Alexandria), 509 Theodosius, (Nagashima) Metropolitan of Tokyo (Orthodox Church of Japan), 447 Theological Seminary in Căpriana, 404 Thessaloniki, 34, 186, 192, 194, 200, 204, 683 Thompson, David, 635 Tikhon, (Bellavin) Archbishop (Orthodox Church in America); Patriarch (Russian Orthodox Church), 258–9, 261, 264, 282 Timişoara, 1, 96–7, 670 Timotheus, Metropolitan of Vostra (Greek Orthodox Patriarchate of Jerusalem; Exarchate in Cyprus), 173 Timotej, Metropolitan of Debar and Kichevo (Macedonian Orthodox Church), 432 Tito, Josip Broz, 68, 84, 454, 456–8 Tonchev, Fr Josif, 694 Torkom II, (Manoogian) Patriarch of Jerusalem (Armenian Apostolic Church), 488–9 Török, Ferenc, 709 Tosso, Henn, 298

830

Index

Toth, Fr Alexis, 260, 264 Trajkovski, Boris, 4, 427–8, 457 Trambas, Archimandrite Soterios, 448–9 Transnistria, 5, 13, 17, 387–401, 403–4, 407, 409, 414–16, 418–19 Transylvania, 94, 98, 100, 109, 656–80, 706 Treaty of Lausanne (1923), 24, 26, 34, 781 Trinitas, 104–5 Troncota, Cristian, 96 True Orthodox Church of Georgia, 7, 147 True Orthodox Church of Russia (Catacomb Church), 9 Truman, Harry S., 24, 263, 690 Tsar Aleksandr I, 38 Tsar Aleksandr III, 631 Tsar Boris I, 762–3 Tsar Ivan Sratsimir, 762 Tsar Ivan the Terrible, 55 Tsar Nikolai II, 39–40, 47, 55, 726, 734 Tsar Pavel I, 55 Tsar Peter the Great, 441 Tsarkounaye Slova, 347 Tsarkoven Vestnik, 124, 131, 697 Tsi, Fr Mitrophan (Orthodox Church in China), 442 Tuđman, Franjo, 86 Tudor, Corneliu Vadim, 100 Turnbull, Andrew, 256 Udvari, István, 710 Ukrainian Autocephalous Orthodox Church, 7, 16, 312–33, 466, 640–1, 644, 783 Ukrainian Autocephalous Orthodox Church – Canonical, 7 Ukrainian Euromaidan, 643–4 Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church, 9, 11, 17, 312–13, 318–19, 325, 623–55, 727 Ukrainian National Democratic Union, 626 Ukrainian (Greek) Orthodox Church of Canada, 4, 317 Ukrainian Orthodox Church of the United States, 4, 313 Ukrainian Orthodox Church − Moscow Patriarchate, 7, 16, 312–33 Ukrainian Orthodox Church − Kyiv Patriarchate, 7, 16, 312–33, 627, 639–40, 644 Uljanov, Adrian, 359

Ulmanis, Kārlis, 371–2, 384 Union of Alba Iulia (1700), 657, 706 Union of Brześć (1596), 623–4, 644 Union of Uzhhorod (1646), 704, 706 United Nations, 32, 448, 547, 731 University of Athens, 4, 176, 203, 232, 237 University of Belgrade, 69, 88, 226 University of Eastern Finland, 285–7, 289 University of Joensuu, 287, 289 University of Prešov, 244 University Square, Bucharest, 1–2 Usk ja Elu, 297, 307 Ustaša regime, 80, 86 Uzzell, Lawrence, 298 Valaam Monastery, 256 Valeriu, (Traian Frenţiu) Bishop of Oradea (Romanian Greek Catholic Church), 668 Vasile, (Aftenie) Bishop (Romanian Greek Catholic Church), 668–9 Vasileios, Bishop of Trimythounta (Orthodox Church of Cyprus), 167–8, 178 Vasilevich, Natalia, 343 Vasilievici, Roland, 97 Vasilije, (Kačavenda) Bishop of Zvornik-Tuzla (Serbian Orthodox Church), 71, 79–80, 83–4, 87 Vasyl, (Velychkovsky) Archbishop (Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church), 639 Vatopedi Monastery, 201 Văratec Monastery, 12 Vazgen I, (Paljian) Catholicos of All Armenians (Armenian Apostolic Church), 474–8, 480, 487 Véghseő, Tamás, 710 Veniamin, (Tupeko) Assistant Bishop of the Minsk Diocese (Belarusian Orthodox Church), 343 Venice Declaration (2002), 32 Venice Commission, 433, 481–2, 484 Venizelos, Eleftherios, 262 Veronis, Fr Luke, 235 Vesti, 44, 46 Vicariate for the Palestinian / Jordanian Orthodox Christian Communities (United States; Ecumenical Patriarchate), 272–4 Vichev, Fr Kamen, 694

Index Victor, (Svyatin) Archbishop of Beijing (Orthodox Church in China), 442–5 Vīķe-Freiberga, Vaira, 379 Vilémov, 242, 244 Vinogradov, Fr Efrem, 393 Vilovski, Simeon, 79 Virgil, (Bercea) Bishop of Oradea (Romanian Greek Catholic Church), 672 Virgin Mary Monastery in Kalishte, Struga, 430 Vissarion, (Bassarion Ivanovich Apliaa) Fr (Abkhazian Orthodox Church), 390–7 Vitalii, (Ustinov) Metropolitan (Russian Orthodox Church outside Russia), 52 Vitebsk Theological College, 347 Vladimir, (Cantarean) Metropolitan of Chişinău (Russian Orthodox Church), 388, 404–5, 407, 409–10, 412–18 Vladimir, (Sokolovsky) Bishop (Orthodox Church in America), 258 Vocea Basarabiei, 408 Vojvodina, 68, 77 Volodymyr, (Romaniuk) Patriarch (Ukrainian Orthodox Church – Kyiv Patriarchate), 314, 317, 323 Volodymyr, (Viktor Markianovich Sabodan) Metropolitan of Rostov and Novocherkassk (Ukrainian Orthodox Church of the Moscow Patriarchate), 313–16, 321–2 Volodymyr, (Sterniuk) Archbishop (Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church), 639 Voronin, Vladimir, 407, 410–11, 413 Vranje, 82–3 Vsevolod, (Maidansky) Metropolitan (Ukrainian Orthodox Church of the United States), 318 Wałęsa, Lech, 214, 220–1 Waltner, Iosif, 670 Warsaw Orthodox Cemetery, 216

831

William, Rowan (Archbishop of Canterbury) (Church of England), 27, 544 Wolf, Frank R., 760 World Conference of Religions for Peace, 236 World Council of Churches, 13, 26, 33–4, 51, 123, 146–7, 153, 168, 220, 232, 236–7, 243, 284, 459, 462, 472, 506, 510, 583, 738 World Forum for Religions and Cultures, 170 World Values Survey, 163 Yacoub, Patriarch (Eritrean Orthodox Tewahedo Church), 513 Yaeqob, Archbishop of Northern Gondar (Eritrean Orthodox Tewahedo Church), 506 Yakiv, Bishop (Ukrainian Orthodox Church – Kyiv Patriarchate), 314 Yakob Mar Irenaios, (Indian Orthodox Church), 461 Yarema, Fr Volodymyr, 313 Yeltsin, Boris, 38–9, 43–4, 58 Yoanikiy, Metropolitan of Sliven (Bulgarian Orthodox Church), 127, 137 Yohannes, Bishop (Eritrean Orthodox Tewahedo Church), 506 Young, Glennys, 635 Yushchenko, Viktor, 320, 393, 654 Yusif, Atif Kirulus, 526 Zakka I, Ignatius (Sanharib Iwas) (Syrian Orthodox Church), 544–6, 549, 555–6, 585 Zaroni, Romulus, 670 Zemliakov, Leonid, 340 Zenawi, Meles, 503, 512 Zheludkov, Fr Sergei, 634 Zheynov, Ivo, 696 Zograf Monastery, 124

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