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