Sacred and Strategic: The Russian Orthodox Church as a Conduit of Soft Power
By Ms. Rebecca Danis Webb, U.S. Department of State
Editor's Note: Ms. Webb's thesis won the FAO Association writing award at the U.S. Marine Corps Command and Staff College. The Journal is pleased to bring you this outstanding scholarship.
Disclaimer: The views expressed in this paper are the author's own and do not reflect the view of the Department of State or the United States government.
When Vladimir Putin faced growing protests and the possibility of a run-off vote in his quest to be re-elected Prime Minister of Russia in 2012, one supporter spoke out to call Putin’s time in office “a miracle of God” – and 101 million Russians listened. This divine endorsement came from Russian Orthodox Patriarch Kirill, the leader of the largest church in Orthodoxy and Putin’s close collaborator. While the Russian Orthodox Church’s voice carries weight with its own believers domestically, it also has significant influence among the 99 million Orthodox Christians who live beyond Russia’s borders in Central and Eastern Europe – many of whom recognize Patriarch Kirill as a higher religious authority than Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew, Orthodoxy’s traditional “first among equals.” Over the course of Putin’s regime, the church has increasingly used its clout to support his geopolitical agenda, encouraging former Soviet countries to integrate more fully into Russia’s sphere of influence and reject closer affiliation with Western Europe and the United States. It has also added a veneer of moral credibility to some of Russia’s most controversial international engagements in Syria and Ukraine.
While some scholars argue this cooperation between church and government is a marriage of convenience based on shared objectives, others are far more critical, asserting that Putin has “turned the church into a huge propaganda machine that uses religion to exploit patriotism, to promote Russian ‘greatness and exclusivity’, to justify Russian territorial expansions, to batter government critics, and to propagandize against the ‘horrible influence’ of the West.” The truth is most likely somewhere in the middle. Although Russia’s government and church do share a common world view, the church has become a significant instrument of Russian soft power, supporting Russia’s quest for regional influence and lending moral legitimacy to its geopolitical ambitions.
To gain insight into these dynamics, this paper examines Russia’s regional interests, its use of soft power, and the historical relationship between the Russian government and the Russian Orthodox Church. It then analyzes the church’s often-overlooked role in promoting Russian soft power in former Soviet states, particularly by legitimizing and amplifying narratives portraying Russia as the leader of a broader “Russian World” and the guardian of traditional Orthodox values against a corrupt West. Finally, it discusses how the church has furthered Russian interests in two countries in its near-abroad: Ukraine and Belarus.
Russia’s Regional Interests
Beyond its broad ambition to be seen as a major player on the global stage, Russia seeks to restore and build on its historical primacy as a regional power. Russia is particularly interested in regaining influence over its “brotherly nations” – those with a common Soviet or (more broadly) Slavic heritage. Some scholars, such as Stefan Hajitodorov, believe Russia is convinced the West has been waging war against it since the fall of the Soviet Union – and as a result, it now seeks to counter or prevent further Western expansion by “creating a periphery of instability along [its] borders and strengthening [its] say in countries that haven’t yet joined NATO.” Russia views Western efforts to expand NATO or the European Union as direct challenges to its sphere of influence, and specifically lists “further expansion of the [NATO] alliance” as a security threat in its National Security Strategy.
To bolster this influence, the traditional concept of Russia as the Motherland or “Mother of Slavs” has been revived under Putin. Although it dates back to at least the 1800s, this depiction of Russia as the mother of all the nations within her orbit was popularized during the Soviet era. Today, Russia envisions at best, unity – or at least, fraternity – among nations with whom it shares a common cultural heritage. In a 2014 speech after the annexation of Crimea, President Putin hinted at the full extent of his aspirations, speaking of Russia as a “divided nation” and comparing “the aspirations of Russia, of historical Russia, to restore unity” to the reunification of Germany. For the present, however, Russia has primarily focused on maintaining “brotherly” relations with countries in its near abroad – which, in the view of Chatham House fellow James Sherr, “do not rule out the independence of others, but which are based on the premise that Russia should define what sovereignty and independence should mean in practice. Failure to ‘consult’ and in practice ‘coordinate’ over such matters as relations with NATO or European integration is regarded as unfriendly act.” Sherr argues that Russia aims to convince the Baltic states in particular that they belong in its own sphere of influence, not Europe’s:
Russia’s fundamental aim in the Baltic states is to persuade them (and, as far as possible Europe) that they are part of a grey zone between East and West and that they should behave accordingly. In other words, Moscow wants the EU and NATO to recognize that the systemic divide in Europe lies not between them and Russia, but between the ‘historical West’ and the ‘Russian world’ (which, as Putin affirms, exceeds ‘Russia’s geographic boundaries and even the boundaries of the Russian ethnos’).
Russia views the values of this Russian World, or Russkiy Mir, as being in fundamental contrast to the more modern, consumer-focused, secular values of the West. In a Brookings article, Fiona Hill suggests that Putin’s support for the revival of the Russian Orthodox Church has been accompanied by an emphasis on “communitarianism over Western individualism.” Some scholars argue that Putin has also been strongly influenced by Eurasianism, a worldview which argues that Russia’s unique history and geography destine it to challenge Western paradigms and build its own orbit of power, promoting “authoritarianism, hierarchy, and the posing of community-based, nation-state principles against small human, individualist, hedonistic, and economic interests.” During his annual call-in radio show in 2014, Putin described his perception of the moral superiority of those in the Russian World, who: “always ponder about the higher moral predestination of the human being. Contrary to the people of the West, they aren’t satisfied with living for themselves, but they also think in broader terms than just their particular interest.” In this view, the expansion of NATO and the European Union not only represents a threat to Russia’s influence and security, but also to its values and way of life. In a 2015 report published by the German Marshall Fund, Alicja Curanovic and Lucian Leustean observe that Russia can take advantage of this narrative to suggest its actions carry moral weight outside its borders as well:
The ruling elites are actively constructing Russia’s identity as the guardian of values and foreign policy plays a major role in this process. The presence of the moral factor in Russia’s interpretations of world politics has recently become stronger. Russia claims to have “moral obligations” in the Middle East, which was not at all the case a few years ago. Europe and the United States, presented as spaces with falling moral standards, are shown in Russian public discourse as the opposite pole to Russian civilization.
Even beyond its near-abroad, Russia seeks to be respected for playing an important civilizational role by defending traditional values and serving as a counterweight to the moral corruption of the West. While there are differences of opinion about the sincerity of President Putin’s religious devotion, it is evident he has embraced the symbolism and rhetoric of religion to lend legitimacy to his aims. Anna Geifman suggests Putin has seized on longstanding national mythology that Moscow would become a “third Rome” and center of Christendom to give his expansionist objectives a messianic sheen:
“Putin realized that he could not sustain his regime’s legitimacy or maintain mass support without a tradition-based messianic mission. He did not invent a new ideology but simply reformulated and popularized the vital concept of Russia’s “greatness.” That the Russian state is “great,” according to the time-honored meaning of the word, means that it directs the world along a visionary path towards a redemptive goal.
According to this narrative, if Russia encounters resistance from the West as it seeks to complete this mission, it is because Western societies have lost their way. Geifman observes:
Since 2012, Putin has insisted that Western societies “have moved away from their roots” and forsaken their “Christian values,” which has led to “degradation and . . . a profound demographic and moral crisis.” Unlike those societies, Russia has returned to the path of true faith, which, according to Foreign Minister Sergei Lavrov, has triggered Western hostility—presumably because Russia's Orthodox Christian goals are at odds with those of the apostates.”
While the concepts of Eurasianism and Russkiy Mir are primarily geopolitical, their themes of Russian nationalism and shared Russian values and identity beyond current state boundaries have helped shape Putin’s world view as he seeks to bolster Russia’s power and influence among its neighbors. Combined with national mythology depicting Russia as the third Rome, they paint a picture of Russian exceptionalism which allows Putin to justify his centralization of power and opposition to Western influence on ideological and even theological grounds. Russia’s sense of a higher calling to serve as a leader among its brother nations, paired with its assertions of moral superiority, has increasingly placed it at odds with the West.
Pushing Back through Soft Power
Since Russia perceives NATO and EU expansion as a threat to its values and influence, it has engaged in an extensive campaign to promote its own interests and encourage regional unity. This bid for influence has often depended on soft power, defined by Joseph Nye as “the ability to get what you want through attraction rather than coercion or payments.” Russian government officials have spoken openly about the importance of soft power to their regional strategy, with Putin characterizing it in 2012 as “a complex of tools and methods for achieving foreign policy goals without deploying weapons, using information tools and other forms of intervention.” Foreign Minister Sergei Lavrov was even more explicit, saying in 2008:
Nowadays the growing role is played by the so-called ‘soft power’ – an ability to affect the environment through civilizational, humanitarian, cultural, foreign policy and other forms of attractiveness. I believe that the whole grammar of our diverse links with compatriots should be constructed precisely with account of these factors.
Accordingly, Russia has dedicated significant resources to promoting a positive image of itself by sponsoring events highlighting arts and culture throughout Eastern Europe, organizing cultural exchanges, and hosting students from post-Soviet republics its best universities. International Russian media outlets such as Russia Today and Sputnik News provide a Russian view of domestic and global events, and Russian cultural centers promote Russian language, history and culture across Europe. “Humanitarian cooperation” is also upheld by Russia as a form of soft power, although as public diplomacy scholar Yelena Osipova points out, this term is defined more as fostering cross-cultural dialogue, supporting civil society and assisting members of Russian diaspora than the traditional Western concept of funding disaster relief. However, in addition to these licit activities, many Western observers argue that Russia has engaged in subversive actions under the guise of soft power – “manipulating, undermining, and weakening opponents,” and “militarizing non-military means, blurring the lines between war and peace and between falsehood, truth, and reality.” Others, such as Polish scholar Jaroslaw Cwiek-Karpowicz, note that Russia’s attempts to woo its fellow Slavs and former Soviet compatriots seem to contradict traditional concepts of soft power: “instead of winning people over who do not share Russia’s foreign principles and goals, the country seeks to mobilize those who already agree with them.”
Particularly noteworthy among these soft power tools are Rossotrudnichestvo, an autonomous government agency focused on international humanitarian aid and cultural exchange, and the influential and far-reaching Russkiy Mir foundation, which is “not only an organization to promote Russian language and culture abroad but also an ideological concept to unite Russia with Russian-speaking minorities worldwide.” A key part of Russian identity, according to this narrative, is Orthodoxy. Similarly, Russia has created several other international NGOs to promote traditional values and portray “Orthodox Christianity as core of Eurasian civilization in opposition to “foreign” European values.” Given Russia’s emphasis on religious identity as a core unifying element of the Russkiy Mir, the Russian Orthodox Church has a central role to play.
While some scholars do acknowledge the church is a tool of soft power, its importance relative to other instruments is often minimized. In fact, much scholarship on Russian soft power omits the role of the church altogether. According to Russian scholar Fyodor Lukyanov, this may be because it is poorly understood – and therefore, in his view, “foreign counteragents are frightened by it even more than by traditional leverages.” However, as Victoria Hudson observes in her doctoral thesis for the University of Birmingham, the role of the church should not be underestimated:
The Russian Orthodox Church is engaged in the business of soft power par excellence; not only working to increase the attraction of Russia and its culture, language and historical legacy, but simultaneously striving to set the agenda by asserting the right to contribute to the conceptualization of issues of normativity and legitimacy – in short the definition of ‘attractiveness’ itself.
As the remainder of this paper will explore, this is a mission the church has come to embrace.
A History of Church and State
While the Russia’s government and church enjoy a remarkably close relationship, this circumstance is not unique in the Orthodox world. Unlike traditional church-state relationships in Western Europe and the United States, which have been characterized by a formal separation since the late 1700s, most Orthodox churches are more closely linked to national identity and exhibit a higher degree of involvement in political and social matters. As Lucian Leustean observes, “Due to the ways in which Eastern Orthodoxy is structured in autocephalous (independent) ecclesiastical units in the construction of sovereign nation states, churches remain involved not only in human and social security but also provide a link to international security by building alliances, conveying diplomatic messages and projecting state power.” This is certainly the case for the Russian church, which has seen its influence both within and beyond Russia grow significantly since the fall of the Soviet Union in 1991.
Although the Russian Orthodox Church was brutally suppressed by the Bolsheviks and the ensuing Soviet regime, the fragments that were permitted to survive did so by demonstrating their utility to the government. While most of the church’s clergy had been purged by the beginning of World War II, Stalin recognized the potential usefulness of the institution in building support for Russia’s war effort and struck a deal with three of its leaders: state protection in exchange for the church’s unquestioning political support. Thus began an era of close church collaboration with the KGB, with priests (and particularly bishops) traveling abroad to spy and recruit potential assets for the communist regime. Domestically, they worked closely with the KGB – and were permitted to celebrate traditional liturgies, but little else, with all aspects of parish life under close surveillance. Bishops demonstrated their support for the government by participating in public ceremonies – and as a reward, enjoyed access to better medical treatment and other perks offered to communist leaders. With the opening of the KGB archives in 1992, the extent of the Russian Orthodox hierarchy’s complicity with the Soviet regime’s intelligence apparatus became clear – encompassing nearly every diocese and both past and present church leadership, including current Patriarch Kirill, who would become a key player in Russia’s quest for regional influence.
The fall of the Soviet Union gave rise to increased public interest in freedom of expression and religious participation. Although certain Russian Orthodox leaders were known to have ties to the old regime, the church itself was viewed with respect for the suppression and persecution it had suffered. Russian journalist Sergei Chapnin notes that in the early 1990s, the number of Russians engaging with Orthodoxy was on the rise: “Most Russian citizens were attracted by what the church had preserved: a culture that was Russian and traditional, but non-Soviet. This was true even for those who had no interest in church doctrines or worship.” The perceived distance between the first independently-elected Patriarch, Alexy II, and the Soviet regime also added to the church’s credibility – and its parishes experienced a surge in membership and lay participation. Chapnin, who was the editor of the Moscow Patriarchate’s magazine until he was fired for criticizing church leadership in 2015, notes that a disturbing trend began to emerge in the early 2000s:
Almost imperceptibly at first, and then more and more overtly, the Russian state abandoned the democratic model for an imperial one. It did so out of a desire to play a larger role in international politics and to overcome, in the eyes of Russians, the humiliation it had suffered with the collapse of the Soviet Union. As the state became imperial, so did the Church. As a result, ideas of what it meant to advance the Church changed radically…Pastoral care has been deemphasized in favor of attention to what the Church can do in partnership with the state. The Church now focuses on the construction and restoration of property, and on the acquisition of state funds for this purpose… Undertaking to shape Russian national identity, the Church promotes patriotism and traditional values in coordination with government propaganda.
As this transformation has occurred, Church bureaucracy has cooperated ever more closely with the Russian government. In 2000, the Church “asserted its right to be consulted on issues relating to society…[and] reinvigorated its mechanisms for communication and interaction with most key state institutions through establishing new consultative organs and appointing senior clergy to existing ones; in short, linking in to networks of influence.” While clerical appointments and budgetary decisions remain under the church’s independent control, its hierarchy has embraced a deepening collaboration with the highest levels of Russia’s government. Patriarch Kirill meets regularly with President Putin – along with all newly appointed Russian ambassadors prior to their departures, and he and his predecessor have participated in the inauguration ceremonies for the country’s presidents. The church and government have undertaken numerous shared initiatives on international political and social issues, and many government offices feature Russian Orthodox chapels. A recent nationwide exhibition on the history of Russia, jointly sponsored by the government and church, portrays the Kremlin’s preferred view of historical events - “glorif[ying] Russian autocrats, including Ivan the Terrible and Stalin, as great leaders, while vilifying as Western agents the Decembrists, a group of young Russian officers who sought to introduce reforms and a constitution in 1825.”
Patriarch Kirill has also undertaken numerous political and cultural diplomacy trips to Europe and Latin America on behalf of the regime, on one notable occasion inaugurating the Russian Cultural and Spiritual Center in Paris. When nearly 200 Orthodox priests signed a letter in Fall 2019 condemning “repressive” trials for pro-democracy protesters, the church hierarchy pushed back hard: its spokesman condemned the priests’ outspokenness, reminding them that ““A [political] struggle with the authorities has never been and will never be the church’s mission.”
Why did the church seemingly reverse its course and choose closer collaboration with the government? Some analysts, such as Tatiana Christy, argue it was practically a foregone conclusion: “Most of today’s leaders have been literally made and trained by the KGB, and continue to be directed by its successors. The church, as an institution, has never had the opportunity to reform itself so it serves society rather than the people in power.” Christy notes this history also makes the church vulnerable to being instrumentalized by President Putin, “who sees in the church yet another tool to serve his regime. In fact, during Putin’s stay in power, the church has been integrated into the government far more profoundly than during the Soviet era.” This relationship has been advantageous for the church as far as advancing its domestic priorities, from the restoration of historic property to the institution of religious education classes in schools and suppression of non-traditional faiths it views as competitors to traditional Orthodoxy. Religious priorities have appeared in national security documents as well. In 2015, Russia’s National Security Strategy (NSS) cited the destruction of “traditional Russian religious and moral values” by nationalists and religious extremists as one of eight “main threats to state and public security,” listing this concern at the same level of urgency as preventing color revolutions. In turn, the church has made several of the government’s priorities its own, promoting closer ties among the nations of the Russian World and increased Russian influence within this orbit.
The Church and Russkiy Mir
Echoing the Russian government, the Russian Orthodox Church has been a leading proponent of the spiritual unity of the Russian World since the fall of the Soviet Union. In fact, the church lamented the news of the “artificial” break-up of the Soviet world in a 1992 synodal statement, saying: “Our Church is historically tied with Kievan Rus that gave life to the Belorussian, Russian and Ukrainian peoples. That is why historical unity and brotherhood of Slavic peoples baptized together, should not be broken. Being separate on the level of states, we should be united spiritually.” Thereafter, the church has supported a “several states, one patriarchate” model in former Soviet countries, asserting its own canonical territory and the continued understanding of Moscow as the spiritual center of Russian orthodoxy.
Patriarch Kirill reminded the faithful of this continued unity in a speech, asserting that “the heart of the Russian World is the Russian Orthodox faith…spiritually we [Russia, Belarus, Ukraine and Moldova] remain one nation.” On another occasion, at the third Assembly of the Russian World, he elaborated further: ““It is necessary to clearly understand what the Russian World means today. I think that if we consider the Russian Federation with its present boundaries, then we have sinned against the historical truth and artificially cut off millions of people who are aware of their role in the fate of the Russian World and consider its creation their main deed.” While the church often advocates for brotherly love and unity among former Soviet nations in the name of religion, Hudson argues that Kirill’s speeches have a deeper agenda:
“God is referred to, but the spirituality with which the narratives are infused relates more generally to modes of living. In this sense, the narratives expressed so prominently in the Patriarch’s public discourse are more ‘national-spiritual’ than ‘religio-spiritual’ in nature. Members of the Russkiy Mir, or Holy Rus’, to use the Patriarch’s preferred expression, are invited to avow themselves to an identity as part of a spiritual people anointed with the task of reclaiming and preserving a presently neglected part of Europe’s heritage.”
Polish academic Alicja Curanovic agrees, noting that Kirill’s conferral of a sacred mission on the Russian people has a dual nature – both defending traditional values and legitimizing Russia’s ambition for regional primacy.
While talking about the necessity to protect Russian civilization (civilizational sovereignty), the representatives of the Moscow Patriarchate refer not only to the territory of the Russian Federation but also to the other former Soviet republics. Surprisingly, the notion of Russkiy Mir is used noticeably less often in the ROC’s narrative than “Russian civilization” or Holy Rus. The latter notion is, in turn, used to underline the closeness of the Eastern Slavic countries as well as Moldova.
In fact, Curanovic’s analysis of sermons and public remarks made by Russian Orthodox leaders from 2009 to 2015 revealed that rhetoric about who was responsible for this mission shifted from the church to the government. While initially portraying this mission as a “spiritual revival” belonging to members of the church, Russian Orthodox leaders began to instead emphasize the Russian government’s responsibility in 2013-2015 – coinciding exactly with Russia’s geopolitical ambitions and involvement in Crimea, Ukraine, and Syria. After an over-enthusiastic member of the clergy provoked an outcry in 2016 after going on record describing Russia’s involvement in Syria as a “holy war,” the church backed off and Kirill returned to discussing the church’s mission rather than the government’s.
Supporting the government’s narrative that the Russian World should be united in brotherhood rather than integrated into western power structures, the church has used its influence to publicly oppose NATO or EU membership for former Soviet states, even beyond the orbit of the immediate Russkiy Mir. It has discouraged NATO integration in Serbia and North Macedonia, publicly denigrating NATO for its lack of respect for Orthodox heritage and destruction of Orthodox shrines in Serbia. To reinforce this narrative of brotherly support for Orthodox heritage in Serbia (in contrast to alleged Western disrespect), a Russian government-owned energy company donated six million euros in 2019 to fund Byzantine gold mosaics and decorations inside a historically significant Serbian Orthodox church in Belgrade. President Putin himself chose to address the Serbian people standing in front of this church beside Serbia’s president during a 2019 visit, offering a powerful image of Russia’s respect for Serbian Orthodox heritage and priorities. For his part, Serbian Orthodox Patriarch Irenej recently stated that while Serbia wants a good relationship with the United States and EU as well as Russia, western interests “counter ours, [so] there is no doubt that Russia comes first.” Leaders from the Serbian Orthodox Church and Montenegro Orthodox Church, both of which harbor close ties to the Russian Orthodox Church, served as prominent voices condemning Montenegro’s intention of joining NATO. Political scholar John Anderson argues that the Russian church’s reluctance to support NATO and EU integration is moral as well as political:
This could be seen in Metropolitan Kirill's concern that if millions of Orthodox were to join the European Union they could not simply be expected to accept the prevailing liberal consensus with its alien values, a consensus they had played no role in creating. It could also be seen in the more extreme conspiracy theories floating around in parts of the church, which saw Orthodoxy as the last obstacle to the creation of a new liberal world order.
Thus, the church as well as the government view the promotion of Russkiy Mir and alternative power structures to the West as an existential struggle to preserve identity and influence – and the church has added a moral legitimacy to the government’s political and economic motives.
Russia as Guardian of Orthodoxy and Traditional Values
Based on its concerns regarding the secular attitudes and moral corruption of the West, the church has also vocally supported the Russian government’s narrative of Russia as the guardian of Christian values and traditional morality. As part of this strategy, both the government and church have aggressively challenged what they view as the West’s monopoly on how human rights are defined and supported. Patriarch Kirill has lauded Russia as “one of the few countries in the world which forms its foreign policy in accordance with moral values and international law.” Meanwhile, his deputy Metropolitan Hilarion has gone even further, asserting that “since the West cared only for Israel and oil, all Christians have already learnt the lesson that the Russian Orthodox Church and President Vladimir Putin are their only hope.” Curanovic notes that this rhetoric fits into a broader Russian Orthodox Church narrative, in which “history clearly shows that Russia is predestined to be the guardian of global balance, not merely in geopolitical but first and foremost in a moral/ethical sense.”
The church has supported the government’s quest to offer a distinctive perspective on human rights, drafting a 2006 Declaration of Human Rights and Dignity which interpreted these topics from the Russian Orthodox tradition. In 2011, the Russian Foreign Ministry published its first report on the state of human rights in other countries, and the following year the church collaborated with diplomats to push for a Russia-sponsored UN Human Rights Council resolution entitled “Encouraging Human Rights and Main Human Freedoms through Deeper Understanding of Traditional Mankind Values: Best Practice.” Victoria Hudson argues that the church’s participation in these efforts lends an important legitimacy to Russia’s use of soft power to achieve global status:
The ROC [Russian Orthodox Church] advances the claim that it is possible to think about a progressive and just world system based on universal principles differently defined. The proposition and implementation of a viable alternative to the Western (neo-)liberal project is a vital constituent part of Russian claims to sovereignty of spirit; a fertile kernel of soft power.
Russia has in turn used its claimed role as a guardian of traditional rights and Christian values to justify its involvement in Syria’s civil war – arguing that its participation was necessary to protect minority Christian communities. The Russian Orthodox Church has strongly supported this incursion, with Patriarch Kirill taking part in war planning meetings and Russian Orthodox priests accompanying troops. In 2016, the church consecrated St. George Chapel at Khmeimim Syrian airbase, asking this patron saint of the military to bless their efforts there. In a meeting with a representative from the Assyrian Church of the East, Patriarch Kirill presented Russia’s involvement in Syria as a continuation of its historical mission as a defender of Christianity, saying “just as the Russian Empire saved Assyrians from genocide while the Ottoman Empire was crumbling, today’s Russia follows this tradition and protects the Christians of Syria.” For his part, President Putin has embraced the mantle of leader of Russia’s self-appointed quest to defend the world’s Christians, telling reporters in October 2019: “The Middle East is the cradle of Christianity, and Christians are in peril there, facing persecution, being killed, raped and robbed. Russia will do everything to protect Christians in the Middle East.” The church has unquestionably used its religious influence to lend moral credibility to the government’s assertions about its motivations for presence in Syria - and to rally the support of Christian communities across the world for its controversial intervention.
The Church in the Ukraine Conflict
Perhaps nowhere have Russia’s government and church worked together so closely as in Ukraine. Both entities view Ukraine as an essential, highly prized asset in Russia’s sphere of influence and the Russian Orthodox Church’s canonical territory. According to some religious and historical interpretations, the roots of Russian Orthodoxy can be traced to the baptism of Vladimir the Great and the people of Kiev in 988. Since Ukraine was the birthplace of the Russian Church, it has a special place in the Church. Ukrainians, who are characterized by some authors as more devout than their Russian counterparts, also composed one third of the Moscow Patriarchate’s total parishes before the Ukrainian Orthodox Church requested autocephaly in 2018. These numbers significantly bolstered Kirill’s claim to be the leader of the largest of the Orthodox churches. As competing Ukrainian Orthodox churches began to vie for recognition and eventual autocephaly in the 2010s, Russian media spread disinformation about their would-be patriarchs in an effort to discredit them.
When Russia invaded eastern Ukraine in 2014 and a “civil war” broke out in the country, priests of the Moscow Patriarchate in the contested regions used the narrative of Ukraine’s role in the broader Russkiy Mir to mobilize support for Russia’ s cause. Heorhii Bushuiev and Ekatarina Maskalova argue that this strategy was an important aspect of Russia’s hybrid warfare approach in Donbas region in particular:
One of the elements of the hybrid war against Ukraine was the countrywide propagation of the idea of the “Russian World” – a cultural and civilizational concept designed to unite Russia and the countries where the Russian language and culture are common. According to this concept, one of the pillars of the Russian World, its consolidating core, is the Orthodox Church of the Moscow Patriarchate (MP)…. The belief in the need to protect Christianity in Ukraine from the central government and Ukrainian nationalism was disseminated with the help of Russian propaganda and led to the emergence of Orthodox radical groups in eastern Ukraine.
Donbas clergy from the Moscow Patriarchate incorporated this rhetoric into their sermons, telling their congregations “about the threat to Orthodox people from Ukrainian authorities and urged them to defend the Russian World.” Meanwhile, Russian Orthodox Church-affiliated media, long accused of seeking to support autocracy in Ukraine, published fawning profiles of Patriarch Kirill and President Putin, promoting their cults of personality.
The Church has collaborated with Rossotrudnichestvo, which seeks to promote Russian language and culture among diaspora, to support Cossack groups as defenders of the Russkiy Mir. A number of these Cossack groups went on to serve as a “primary destabilizing force” in Donbas at the beginning of the conflict, and later formed a “Russian Orthodox Army” which seized government buildings, attacked checkpoints and participated in several major battles throughout 2014. A Russian church-sponsored Synodal Committee collected humanitarian aid for supporters of two Cossack groups, which Bushuiev and Maskalova assert was then able to be transferred into separatist-controlled areas, due to a lack of state oversight of religious groups’ funding. Additionally, Moscow Patriarchate clergy have collaborated with Rossotrudnichestvo in co-hosting paramilitary-style camps for youth, with physical training and religious instruction. Amid accounts of weapons caches being kept in churches and militias being lodged at church-run cultural centers, a report from the International Partnership for Human Rights and Ukraine’s Center for Civil Liberties asserted:
Many priests in the Donetsk and Luhansk regions provide moral and spiritual support for the unlawful armed groups that have committed human rights abuses and violated the law in their persecution of Ukrainian authorities and citizens who express pro-Ukrainian opinions. Much photo and video material has been circulated on the internet portraying priests sanctifying flags, check-points, and fire-arms, and blessing the actions of the fighters against the “sinners”, “schismatics” and “American agents.”
Meanwhile, the constitution of the newly-declared Donetsk People’s Republic placed the church’s priorities front and center: “The leading and dominant faith is the Orthodox faith ... as professed by the Russian Orthodox Church (Moscow Patriarchate). The historical heritage and role of the Russian Orthodox Church (Moscow Patriarchate) are recognized and respected, including as a main pillar of the Russian World doctrine.”
Along with promoting Ukraine’s continued participation in Russkiy Mir as justification for armed conflict in its eastern regions, local and senior church officials supported Russia’s assertion that its role as the defender of traditional Christian values justified its involvement in Ukraine’s “civil war.” Fr. Andriy Zelinskyy, a political science lecturer at Ukrainian Catholic University, notes that this narrative was particularly prominent in the first year of the war as part of Russia’s hybrid warfare strategy. In addition to emphasizing the defense of Orthodox identity, local clergy condemned Western European attitudes toward permitting same-sex marriage and argued the uprising was necessary to protect Christian values. In Curanovic and Leustean’s characterization of this narrative, “Ukraine is faced with a civilizational choice. Forced by the West to give up its values and submit to a foreign model, Ukraine’s only hope is Russia if it is to avoid becoming a satellite of the West. [Russian Foreign Minister] Lavrov has even gone so far as to state that Russia was helping Ukrainians ‘because Christian values say so.’” Back in Moscow, high-ranking Russian church officials invoked this justification as well, with the influential head of the Department for Cooperation between Church and Society Fr. Vsevolod Chaplin describing the conflict as “a result of the clash of values” and observing that “in certain circumstances, defending the Holy Truth requires armed resistance.” Meanwhile, Kirill’s deputy Metropolitan Hilarion connected events in Ukraine with upheaval in the Middle East, characterizing both situations as “part of the same strategy of the West to turn Russia’s neighborhood into an unstable and hostile place.”
Despite these high-level expressions of support, however, one voice was conspicuously absent: that of Patriarch Kirill himself. While Russia’s annexation of Crimea and military activities in Donbas may have advanced Putin and Kirill’s shared goal of increasing Russia’s regional influence, they had a markedly detrimental effect on the spiritual unity of Orthodox believers – and arguably harmed Kirill’s standing as a unifying spiritual leader in the Orthodox world. A recent analysis piece in the Financial Times suggests that Kirill’s absence at a Kremlin ceremony celebrating the Crimea annexation was indicative of his silent disapproval of the use of force to unify the Russkiy Mir. However, while Patriarch Kirill may have considered it prudent to abstain from enthusiastic statements of support for Russian military involvement in Ukraine, he has also refrained from condemning it. Moreover, he has stood by as priests under his authority in Moscow and across Ukraine have praised and supported it.
While Russia’s geopolitical aims in Ukraine have been at least partially successful, the Russian church’s attempts to maintain spiritual unity with its Ukrainian brethren is in shambles following the Ecumenical Patriarch’s decision to grant a tomos of autocephaly to the Ukrainian church in 2019. Although many Orthodox churches have not recognized this move – and some Ukrainians have chosen to remain affiliated with Russia’s Moscow Patriarchate – it was nonetheless viewed as a strong blow to Russian influence in Ukraine. In fact, the Financial Times recently suggested that Patriarch Kirill’s inability to prevent Ukrainian autocephaly may have damaged the church’s standing with the Russian government. In an interview with the paper, Sergei Chapnin observed: “The state starts treating the church differently, because if the Russian church is collapsing, if some Greeks and the local president could pull this [the tomos] off, then what’s the good of the church? The Kremlin has seen how weak the patriarch is.” Nonetheless, with fewer Ukrainian Orthodox believers abandoning the Moscow Patriarchate than initially predicted, the Russian church continues to be in a position to shape the spiritual environment in Ukraine – and its need to demonstrate the extent of its influence to the Russian government may in fact be stronger than ever.
The Church in Belarus
The Russian church has also supported Belarus’ closer integration with Russia as part of the restoration of the Russkiy Mir. Like Ukraine, Russia considers Belarus to be a particularly close part of its orbit and sphere of influence. Unlike Ukraine, however, Belarus has been more open to this role – signing a reintegration treaty to form a union with Russia in 1996. At the time, Russian Orthodox Patriarch Alexy II joyfully welcomed the news. Alexy II expressed his hope that this was just the beginning of the Russkiy Mir’s reunification, praying that “with the Lord’s help, this process will not stop” and noting that “the emerging new union will be tragically unfinished unless it is joined by the people of Ukraine who have the same blood and confession.”
Although the reintegration treaty has since stalled, Russia remains eager to move it forward – but now faces resistance from Belarusian President Lukashenko. An “Orthodox atheist,” Mr. Lukashenko has recently pushed back on Russkiy Mir rhetoric, promoted use of the Belarussian language, and called for reform in the Belarusian Orthodox Church, including reining in Russian influence. In a July 2019 meeting between the Russian and Belarusian leaders, Putin took Lukashenko to a restored Orthodox monastery in northwestern Russia, underscoring the shared imperial past and Orthodox heritage of their two countries. Noting the religious undertone of the visit, the Economist observed that “to the cynical eye, inviting the Belarusian leader to a magnificent monastery which flourished under the tsars looks like one more move in a hard-and-soft power game” – and also called attention to “the new Russian mood-music, which tries to mix Orthodoxy, communism and secular geopolitical dreams in a single harmonized chant.”
For his part, the exarch of the Belarusian Orthodox Church has strongly supported Belarus’ integration with the broader Russian World. A Russian citizen himself, Metropolitan Pavel used a Christmas service at the Minsk cathedral to call for the “reunification” of Belarus, Ukraine, and Russia under the mantle of “Holy Russia.” When faced with severe criticism, the exarch insisted he had been referring to spiritual unity and blamed pro-Russia bloggers for “wrongly interpreting” his words. After the Ukrainian church’s bid for autocephaly damaged the possibility of even spiritual unification among Orthodox faithful in the three countries, Metropolitan Pavel described it as an “awful tragedy” on state television and warned “if such thing happens to Belarus, it will mean the death of the Belarusian Orthodox Church. It will be a death penalty to Belarusian Orthodox Church.” As it currently stands, the Belarusian church remains closely linked and subordinate to the Russian Orthodox Church, with its leadership appointed by Patriarch Kirill. Although only 27% of Belarusians consider religion as personally important to them, Orthodox identity and the unity of Orthodox peoples continues to be a powerful narrative. After analyzing content produced by 141 pro-Russian organizations across Belarusian civil society, media, think tanks and churches, democracy activist Francisak Viacorka found that 73% of them promoted Orthodoxy and pan-slavism as a significant component of their messaging.
In addition to publicly making pro-Russian statements, Belarusian clergy have hosted events for speakers promoting Russkiy Mir ideology and sold their books and pamphlets in church bookstores. More concerningly, since the annexation of Crimea, some Belarusian Orthodox priests have collaborated with Cossack groups to organize military-patriotic clubs and host pro-Russian paramilitary camps for youth. According to Ostrogorski Center analyst Alesia Rudnik, “in 2016 Nasha Niva revealed at least five such orthodox-military-patriotic clubs in Hrodna region alone…On their webpages, two such clubs invited Belarusians ‘to protect Russians in the former territory of Ukraine’… [while] one Vitsebsk club organised a trip to Russia for youngsters which included training with former military officer Aleksei Milchiakov, who fought in Donbas.” Viacorka, who has also heard accounts of former fighters from Crimea and Donbas serving as guest trainers at Orthodox-sponsored youth camps, claims that in 2017 alone he found evidence of Orthodox clergy sponsoring dozens of youth paramilitary camps across Belarus. As Russia seeks openings to advance its goal of closer integration with Belarus, the church has an important role to play in making the case for a shared identity among citizens of the two countries.
Conclusion
Over the past decade, Russia has repeatedly turned to instruments of soft power to increase its influence over former Soviet republics and discourage Eastern European countries from aligning themselves more closely with the EU or NATO. As part of this strategy, Russia has used culture and religion to convince populations that their historical and cultural ties to the Russian World make it in their best interest to support its geopolitical ambitions. In this effort, the Russian Orthodox Church has been its staunch – but often overlooked – supporter.
As this paper has demonstrated, Russia’s church and government share strongly held views about the need for “brotherly” unity among members of the Russian World to defend against Western threats to traditional Russian (and Orthodox) identity. Accordingly, the church has become one of Russia’s most eager and effective tools of soft power, lending moral and religious credibility to President Putin’s efforts to discourage closer integration with NATO and the EU in the Balkans and expand Russia’s strategic influence in Syria, Ukraine, and Belarus. At the local, national, and global level, senior clerics spread key Russian narratives to the faithful – and occasionally provide material support to Cossack and paramilitary organizations as well. Led by Patriarch Kirill, the Russian Orthodox Church builds bridges with other Orthodox believers around the world, calling on them to support Russia’s objectives in the name of spiritual brotherhood – and demonstrating that geopolitical influence can be simultaneously sacred and strategic.